Of Bravery and Bluster

by Scott Kelemen

They set off at a quick pace, ignoring the well-established Navy rule that running in the corridors of compactly built military ships was a poor idea, likely to cause your head to crack off a protruding piece of machinery. This station was relatively spacious, built for some modicum of comfort. The real danger was the muted lighting, rendering the mostly abandoned station into an eerily quiet backdrop to the patter of their footfalls.

  The friends came upon a knot of a couple dozen people surrounding the escape pods. There were mostly junior station personnel milling around, as well as half-a-dozen midshipmen from their class.

  Makaio tapped Garam on the shoulder, and shook his head in mild disgust. No one was loading into the pods, and no one was taking charge. There was a small triage area with three injured station workers. The wounded made it even less reasonable that everyone was standing around doing nothing. Makaio spoke over the cross-chatter among everyone, “What’s everyone doing just standing around? This station is going to shut down in less than ten minutes! We got to be getting these injured men off the station, not to mention the rest of us!”

  A junior rating from the station crew spoke up, “One of the injured is the pod officer, the only one trained to fly it. If we get in one of these things, we’re as dead as if we stay here.”

  Garam cursed under his breath, “One pilot? There are three pods here!”

  The woman shrugged, not knowing what to say. “There should be six trained to show up here, two for each just in case. Maybe they got lost or hurt in all the confusion.” She fell silent, with no more answers.

  Garam scowled. “No one has tried to call for help? We still have a minute or so of secondary power, right?” He turned to pick out one of his former cadet classmates, who just happened to be Jenna Winehosen. “Jenna, did anyone try the comm circuits?”

  She shot back at him, “Of course we did! The system’s dead, probably in power conservation! We couldn’t raise anyone.”

  Dianne asked, “Did anyone send runners?”

  Jenna threw up her hands, “Run to where? We’re supposed to be running to these pods!”

  Dianne gave a loud, “Arrrgh! They could have spare pilots at another pod node!”

  “Or we might get crushed in an explosion running through dark corridors in the path of a meteor shower!”

  The sound of more footsteps came from down the corridor, cutting off their argument. Turning, the small crowd witnessed the arrival of a few more familiar faces in the form of Shawn Crawson, Paula Ophere and Harric Zenners. Makaio and Sam stepped over to Shawn and traded hand slaps with their friend, while Shawn shot a small smile Dianne’s way.

  She, of course, refused to really acknowledge him. She never did, outside the bedroom. Instead, she sidled up to Paula, hugging her fellow survivor from the last time they had climbed out of a crumbling piece of Alliance technology. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

  Paula was cradling one of her hands. “Got off a little easier this time. Only broke one of my hands.”

  Harric, who was looking a little irritated at being generally ignored, said, “Nice to see all of you, too. We nearly got trapped back near the air processing plant. We were visiting a buddy of mine who lives on the station when the whole section lost pressure and a bunch of machinery collapsed. But Jenna’s right. We tried comm systems all along the way, and we couldn’t raise anyone. Just a lot of static.”

  Sam asked, “You weren’t hurt?”

  Harric lowered his head in emotional pain, obviously shaken. “Saw a half-dozen station workers go down under the wreckage. Including Jake. Couldn’t do a damn thing about it. We couldn’t even start digging to see if anyone lived through it. It was a mess. This is bad, guys. We need to punch out of here, and do it now.”

  Paula pulled away from Dianne and shuffled to his side. Trying not to further protect her hand, she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Couldn’t be helped, Harric. There was nothing we could do.”

  Garam cracked his fingers, “Yeah, well there is something we can do now. I’m getting these comm systems working. These pods could take us all out of here if we can just get a few qualified pilots down here!” He stalked over to the local control console and was soon elbow deep in the maintenance hatch. “I’m only going to be able to get one circuit going, maybe two. Who should we call? Maybe one of the other pod bays and hope we find some extras?”

  Sam interjected, “We need to call the ones who everyone talks to. The ones who have the whole picture. They’ll be the ones who can summon help. Can you get us a link to the command and control room?”

  Garam rustled around inside the console’s guts, then nodded, “Should do. The command center will be on active emergency power longer than anyone but main engineering. Just need to steal a little from one of the live circuits and I can clear a circuit for you.” He huffed in satisfaction, slipped out and toggled the console to life. The screen fuzzed over, and then cleared again.

  A scene from right out of hell stared back at them. Hazy smoke filled the viewer, and they could see exposed conduits and sparking cables snapping and hissing in the background.

  Dianne caught sight of it over Garam’s shoulder. She hissed in disbelief, “Damn, Garam, is that the CCR?”

  Garam didn’t need to reply.

  A cough sounded out of the smoke. A haggard shadow resolved into a grey face framed with unruly hair. The rank insignia on his epaulets was coated in dust and debris, but Garam managed to figure out this broken image was all that remained of the polished lieutenant commander who had greeted them earlier when they boarded the station. He was the station’s second in command.

  Garam’s quiet voice only managed to whisper into the microphone, “Exec?” He used the short form acronym for executive officers throughout the Navy, along with other friendly short-forms like Exec or Number One.

  The exhausted officer nodded, then coughed again as he tried to find his voice. When it came back, it was scratchy from breathing smoke, “Lieutenant Commander Ashton, here. Who is this?”

  “Midshipman Anton, Sir. We’re on 3 deck, near the escape terminal. None of the station’s commissioned pilots showed up, and there are over thirty here who need to land on the planet. Can you direct someone our way?”

  Ashton’s face fell in pained regret. “An explosion took out most of the CCR, Anton. We’re dead and blind up here. We’re trapped inside, and the command level escape pod is unserviceable. We’re not getting out. I know some of the automatic damage control systems are working because we’re getting downloads from a few automechs, but they are sparse and scattered. And you’re the first active comm signal I’ve gotten since the accident.” He shook his head. “No, we’re not getting out. Can you get through to central DC?”

  Garam shook his head, “I just pinged every damage control circuit I could find. None of the teams responded. Either they are dead, evacuated or the whole DC net is down. I don’t know which.”

  “Sorry, son. There’s nothing I can do. But you know what you must do. You are all trained as pilots. Have faith in those skills and get people out.”

  Garam looked back over his shoulder at Dianne. There wasn’t anyone he would trust more to get him to stable ground. “Absolutely, Sir.”

  “Good man. Stop worrying about me and do it. Ashton clear.” The Exec cut the circuit, preventing any drawn-out good-byes.

  Shawn quipped, “Well, you heard him. I remember pulling all of you out of one mess. Might as well give this a crack and make it two you owe me.”

  Dianne snorted, their occasional intimacy not saving him from her sarcasm, “If we don’t have any better options, guess we can trust you. Three pods, we need three pilots. Each one holds eight, but we can squeeze in twelve. Probably. I’ll take the injured crewman. It’ll be even more crowded and might make things difficult. Since I topped the form in piloting -”

  Normally, her friends would have mocked her for such immodesty. Not this time. She was right about how good she was. Being in her pod improved anyo
ne’s odds of survival.

  Dianne finished, “- it only makes sense. Mak -”

  Makaio cut her off, “No. Paula will take it.”

  Paula shook her head, shivering in pain as she leaned against a wall. “Not with this hand of mine.”

  Makaio tilted his head in the other direction. “Sam, then.”

  Not used to hearing Makaio shirk any sort of duty or avoid a chance to show off, Sam’s eyebrows collapsed together in question, “You don’t want the reins? Our flights scores are almost identical.”

  “I know. And I also know who can bench more.” His white teeth flashed in a grin as he flexed his massive bicep at them, a small moment of playfulness amidst the chaos.

  Johanna caught on. “You’re going to the CCR.”

  “Damn right. We’re not going to leave the whole command team to burn in there. I need Johanna because she knows the station schematics best. Garam, I need you to coax the doors and hatches open if the tech side gets dicey. Sam, I know you’d want to go instead of me.”

  “Yeah, because I’m just as stupid.”

  “Exactly. But I thought of it first, and they might need heavy lifting.”

  Sam smirked, “I am from a heavy grav world, Mak. You might be surprised who can lift a little more. But I won’t fight you on this. It’s your idea. Go be the hero.”

  Makaio shook his head, “I don’t want to be a hero, but Ashton seemed like a good bloke. Besides, maybe if he speaks well for me, I will beat Dianne to our next promotion.”

  They shared a tight laugh, even as the other midshipmen and crewmen looked on in blank astonishment.

  Dianne called out to the other midshipmen, “Anyone else want to go peel the station Exec out of the CCR?”

  The station gave another shudder. Worried eyes tracked around, wondering if the bulkheads were going to literally collapse on them. They were spooked, and in no frame of mind to be brave.

  Irked by Dianne’s question, Shawn was practically shaking in fear. “We need to get in those pods now. If you go running through the station, you are all throwing your lives away! Remember survival school! Remember damage control training! If one part of the ship is open to vacuum, you seal it off even if that means some die! That’s how you save the ship! Don’t slag us just because we have more common sense than you! The station Exec told us to get the hell out!”

  Makaio stepped in, looking ready to spit in Shawn’s face. “She wasn’t slagging anyone, Shawn. She just asked a question. But I hear you loud and clear. Close the hatch so long as you’re on the right side of it, right? Makes me wonder if you could have helped Harric’s friend back there! Or did you close the door on them too without trying?”

  “You’re out of line!”

  Makaio stared him down, “We’ve been friends a long time, Shawn. Seen you run away before. Always figured you were trying to help. But that wasn’t it, was it? Coward.”

  Sam moved between them, pushing them apart. “We don’t have time for this!”

  Shawn glared weapon-grade lasers at Makaio. “You are way off base on this!”

  Makaio sneered at him. “Go crawl into a pod and save your own ass. Enjoy the rest of your career.” He did spit, though not right at Shawn. Ignoring the flush of anger that brought to Shawn’s face, he turned to the others. “Jo? Garam? I won’t speak for you, but I could use your help.”

  Johanna watched on, painted with an odd hint of regret, as if this was all a massive waste. Showing no fear, offering no objections, she said, “Of course.” She remained detached, considering the entire rescue plan and the chaos around her with the intellectual curiosity one gave to a holo-vid presentation.

  Garam answered with a cocky grin. “Did you even have to ask? Like you said, we can’t let the Exec and his team burn. But we don’t have the time for any more of this shit. We have to move.”

  “Awesome.” He glanced at Sam and Dianne. “Safe flight, you two.”

  Sam waved him off, “Like falling out of bed and finding the floor. Just don’t forget to get yourselves off the station eventually.”

  The lights of the station flickered again. This time half of the light panels around them never came back on. An almost pleasant computer voice intoned over the speakers around the station, “Secondary power failed. Reverting to emergency power.”

  Makaio’s eyes narrowed in concern. The station officer who had made the first announcements hadn’t come on the broadcast. Announcements switching to automatic backups was not a good sign. “Let’s move.”

  Chapter 25

  Makaio led Garam and Johanna back toward the escape ladder, and nearly ran right over Louisa Cravette coming from the other direction.

  Breathless, Louisa’s smile lit up the gloomy corridor with her delight. “Found you! Oh, thank the stars I found you!” She tried to encompass them all, but it was hard to miss how she focused more fully on Johanna.

  Garam took in her scuffed uniform and panicked eyes. “Are you alright, lieutenant? Are you hurt?”

  “What? Oh, no! But you might have been. You’re heading right into a very dangerous section. You’d be killed for sure!”

  The three midshipmen traded worried glances at each other. Makaio said, “Might be worse than we feared. We need to get up there now!”

  Louisa asked, “Up? Up where?”

  Johanna supplied smoothly, “The CCR.”

  Louisa saw in her mind’s eye Sanders moving off in the direction of the sickbay. That would keep him far too close to the ladder these three were headed to climb. “The CCR? You might get there, but that ladder over there is cut off two decks up. Take the cross-corridor just back there, cut over two sections, and then climb. It’ll put you right in the proximity.”

  Johanna offered a pleased smile. “You have a real handle on the DC situation, Ma’am. Thank you.”

  The compliment breezed right past her, considering all her ‘knowledge’ was bold-faced lies to keep them well separated from the assassin. “Think nothing of it. I’m trying to help people get to where they need to go. Umm, why the CCR?”

  Makaio explained, “Trapped people. Come on, we don’t have time. Ma’am, our apologies, but we need to go. If you see any damage control teams, let them know we need help up on the command deck!”

  Louisa called out to them, even as they ran off. “I will!”

  Once they were out of sight, she back-tracked, heading for the very ladder she had described as being out of commission. If she could catch sight of Sanders again, maybe she could do it this time. Maybe she could pull the trigger and do what needed doing.

  She sobbed even as she ran.

  There was just no way.

  ***

  The trio scrambled the four decks up to the command level in only a few minutes once they found the ladder, and true to their guide’s word there wasn’t any debris or broken infrastructure to stop them.

  Their luck ended as they pushed through the last escape hatch into the section outside of the CCR proper. The outer corridor was a mess. Metal fragments, cable runs, and other random equipment had been torn loose and shredded. The only positive sign was the door to the CCR which was still showing a glowing green outline to mark an intact air seal. The lights only came to life in emergency situations, but gave hope that the CCR hadn’t lost atmosphere.

  Makaio gave the green glow a cautious look. “Can we trust that? We can’t let the station start bleeding air again.”

  Garam replied without hesitation. “Absolutely. The sensors aren’t controlled from anywhere else. The door looks intact, and the sensors to read pressure and air quality are built right into the frame. It’s showing as pressurized, and the Exec wasn’t exactly gasping for O2 or getting sucked into space.”

  Makaio bought the arguments. “Alright, let’s take the chance and crack it open. Jo, you always see things before the rest of us. Tell me what you see when it opens.”

  Johanna offered no objection to Makaio tossing out orders. Never a forcefully loud woman to begin with, she was
even more subdued now as she watched them fight to rescue the trapped people inside.

  Garam tried to key open the door, but it just spat back error codes. “I expected that.” He pried open the support panel below and began attacking the control relays that kept the locking seal in place. He worked with the speed of a mechanic who knew he was doing more damage than he was fixing, tearing away at circuits with the efficiency of a surgeon bent on death rather than life. A brief spatter of sparks littered the deck. Garam finished the bypass and then fed a small surge of power into the jumped circuit. The door hissed open.

  Inside, pure chaos reigned. The deckhead and bulkheads of the command center were black and scarred in the wake of a crippling explosion. Wreckage was everywhere. A nightmare of exposed power conduits and splintered metal cluttered the whole space, all lost in near total darkness with only a pair of ruddy-red emergency lights still glowing in a far-off corner.

  Johanna squinted, extending her senses and trying to see and feel anything past the tangled mess. “Difficult to say.” She said, just loud enough to be heard. “Shadows, maybe.”

  Garam turned toward her in surprise. That was the first time he had ever heard uncertainty from her when trying to absorb details. He could have sworn she was trying to be deliberately vague. Not misleading, but…vague. “Feeling alright, Johanna?”

  Makaio growled, not even noticing. “They were in there before!” He came as close as he dared to the wreckage which still crackled as if being charged by life-threatening static electrical charges being grounded away with random snaps. “Exec, Sir! Lieutenant Commander Ashton! Exec, are you in there?”

  At first, Garam thought he picked out a low conversation being held only in whispers. Then, a hacking cough followed by the familiar shout of the Exec made raw by the latent smoke built up in the room. “Damn it, who is that? Anton? What are you doing here? Why aren’t you off the station? You shouldn’t be here! We can’t get to you!”

  Makaio yelled back, “We’ll try and find a way in!” His eyes darted to Garam. “What do you think?”