Pirates of the Dark Nebula (Hearts in Orbit Book 2)

by S. C. Mitchell

  He missed Harvey. The droid would be able to do the scans and check the probability in seconds, with high accuracy. He had no idea of Kyra’s capabilities.

  “Ms. Jansky, I need a forward scan, ten milliparsecs, for space debris. Best guess pathway for a micro jump based on Ms. la Cross’s navigational parameters.”

  “Aye, Captain.” Her tone was tense, her posture rigid.

  How much training does she have? He’d just thrown a dangerous situation on the shoulders of a young girl who’d just learned to run her station.

  Markus cleared his throat. “The McCaffrey is closing on us, sir. I estimate five minutes to weapons lock.”

  Rik looked to the defensive control station. Another new face on the bridge. Pyxis Taygete looked about as uncomfortable as the big man could look in front of the computerized touch monitor. It would have been one of the easier stations to train. Rik guessed the man had no prior experience on a starship.

  “Full power to rear shields, Mr. Taygete.”

  The man nodded, tapping the display. “Aye, Captain.”

  Rik resisted the urge to double check that his commands were being carried out. There wasn’t time and he needed to trust these people. He could only hope they trusted him.

  He brought up the piloting display on his workstation, assessing the possible vectors he could take toward the asteroid field. Gods, running toward an asteroid field? It felt so wrong. But if Luna’s device could get them through, leaving the pirates on the other side, they’d be safe.

  “Vector two has the lowest probability of space debris,” Kyra said. “Still, it’s thirty-five percent. Not good.”

  “Weapons lock,” Markus warned. “They’re firing.”

  The phason impact rocked the ship. Rik moved to bring up the defensive screen, to check the damage.

  “Rear shields at seventy-eight percent,” Pyxis said before he could bring up the display.

  Rik backed off. The man was handling the situation.

  Two, maybe three more hits and they’d lose their rear shields. He needed to act now.

  He set the course along the vector Kyra suggested. Thirty-five percent? Only a desperate man would micro jump into that. He assigned the vector, and brought up the hyper drive display. The ship rumbled again, as a second phason blast struck.

  No other choice. “Micro jump in ten, nine—”

  “Shields at twenty-eight percent, Captain.”

  Screw it. They’d been hit hard. They needed to jump now.

  Rik hit the control and the ship lurched.

  Instantly alarms sounded, their wail filling the bridge.

  “Hull integrity breach, Captain.”

  “Where?” Rik asked.

  Pyxis’s face went white. “Engineering.”

  “One more wire.” Luna held the connection in place as Ian touched the melding iron to the silver-tungsten solder. “And watch that syngonal flow channel.”

  Why the ship’s designers had run the hyper drive fuel lines so close to the ion stimulator was beyond her. Syngonal and gandisol do not get along. Mix in antimatter and you could have a . . . what? Luna filed the question away for later. Whatever would happen wouldn’t be good.

  The ship rocked for a second time. Frack, we’ve been hit again. “We need to get this system up and running fast.”

  How much more damage could the ship’s shields take?

  The craft lurched as Ian sealed the last connection on the asteroid avoidance system. Was that a Micro jump?

  The screech of twisting titanium, and sudden chill in the chamber registered as a small chunk of something whizzed by Luna’s head. Her eyes widened as she took a gasping breath of the thinning air.

  Suddenly weightless, she drifted back from the access panel where she and Ian had been installing the device. A chunk of jagged metal, about the size of a fist, had wedged itself between the gandisol and syngonal fuel lines, rupturing both.

  As the two fluids mixed in the air, sparks flew. A green blob of gandisol seeped into the blue syngonal leak fusing into a glowing orange mass.

  This is not good.

  “Captain, we are in the asteroid belt.” Tina’s warning brought Rik’s gaze back to his display. We jumped too far. How? Why?

  Too many questions. He hit the switch to retake manual control. No autopilot in existence could handle navigating the moving mass of tumbling asteroids around the ship. But could he?

  It didn’t matter. The controls weren’t responding. At the bottom of his display, flashing in red text, were the words: Asteroid Avoidance Activated.

  Bless you Luna.

  She’d done it. And just in time. But the hull breach had been in engineering, where Luna and Ian were working.

  Rik hit the intercom. “Damage report, Mr. Pinder.” He hoped at least one of the Pinders would respond.

  Thurban’s voice was ragged when he answered. “We’ve got the hole plugged, but far from patched. The way we’re bucking, I can’t promise it will hold. Got the boys on it though.”

  His voice quieted. “Doctor von Alderamin was rendered unconscious. I’ve sent him off to sickbay. Doctor Callista is wrestling with a problem of her own over by the drive access panel. I’ll have her fill you in when she comes up for air.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Pinder.” Rik allowed himself a sigh of relief.

  “Captain,” Markus said, “The McCaffrey has entered the asteroid field in pursuit. The other ships have pulled back.”

  Frack. The Umberhulk had its own asteroid avoidance system. Losing the other ships was something, but would it be enough.

  “Mr. Tyson, Mr. Stout, you have my permission to fire at will on that ship, if it gets in range.”

  “Aye, Captain,” they both responded.

  Rik watched in awe through the steel-glass windows that ringed the bridge. The Starboard Mist was weaving her way through the asteroid field with amazing precision. His heart clutched each time an asteroid approached, but the ship swerved and dove, missing them all, though some of them only by meters.

  Rik blew out a long breath. At least it was working.

  Markus chuckled. “They’ve closed the distance on us, but their weapons can’t lock.”

  “Weapon’s locks are for flapdashers.” Quatrain’s bold statement was punctuated with a round of phason beams, most of which did strike the Umberhulk.

  “Nice shooting, Mr. Tyson.” Rik’s heart warmed. The young man was amazing. We might make it out of this yet.

  Rik’s gaze was drawn back to the port side windows, where darkness appeared to be coalescing, blocking out the asteroids and the stars beyond.

  “What’s going on?” Tina asked. “My instruments just started going wild.”

  Rik checked his station. They had been on the course he’d laid in across the asteroid field, the auto system set to bring them out in less than half an hour, but now his readings were fluxuating wildly. The ion drives wined as the ship started shaking.

  Frack, now what?

  The intercom buzzed. “We have to shut down the asteroid avoidance system.” Luna’s voice was tense yet controlled.

  “We’re in the middle of the asteroid field,” he answered. “Is that wise?”

  “There’s . . . frack. Frack!”

  The intercom went dead.

  The lights flickered once.

  Then everything went dark.

  Chapter 22

  Rik pulled the flashlantern from his belt. The darkness around him was absolute. He was floating, weightless.

  What the hell happened?

  The light from his flashlantern brought dim illumination to the bridge. His crew also floated in the weightlessness, but looked otherwise fine. Some appeared to be unconscious. Others shook their heads as if just awaken
ing. Had everyone blacked out? He couldn’t recall. The blackness and sensory deprivation had been so complete, it was hard to say.

  It seemed like only minutes ago they’d been flying through the asteroid field. Yet, if he blacked out, how long had he been out?

  The lack of airflow and sudden chill told him life support was also offline.

  To have survived . . . whatever had happened, only to die in a powerless derelict in deadspace, or crash into an oncoming asteroid . . .?

  His gaze swept to the steelglass portholes around the bridge. Outside the ship was completely lightless. No stars, no asteroids, nothing.

  Then the darkness around the ship receded and twinkling stars reemerged. Still, there wasn’t an asteroid in sight.

  They were no longer in the asteroid field. So where the hell are we?

  Luna floated, weightless in the inky blackness.

  “Pollix? Wasat?” The Pinder boys had been working on the hull breach behind her.

  “I think Pollix hit his head. In any case, he’s out, but I can feel a pulse at his wrist.” Wasat’s voice was strained. “What do we do?”

  A spark illuminated the room, then the darkness pushed back in. But the light was enough for Luna to see the seeping fuel lines, and the green and blue fluids floating through the chamber.

  “There should be more sparks. Use the light to find a flashlantern.”

  They were helpless in the dark. Light would give them a chance to see the damage, and what could be done to get the ship’s power back online. If they were in the midst of an asteroid field, as Rik had said, the ship could easily be on a collision course with one of the spinning space rocks.

  The screeching of twisting metal drew her attention, as a thin stream of light threaded its way into the chamber. “Working my way to ya.” Thurban Pinder’s voice drifted into the room.

  The outline of the hatch door became visible, as it slid open. Thurban floated in the doorway, flashlantern in one hand, crowbar in the other.

  In the dim light, Luna located the shutoff valves for the syngonal and gandisol.

  “What can we do, Doctor Callista?” Thurban asked.

  “Find some steelglass canisters and start gathering up the fluids floating in this room. Keep the blue away from the green as much as you can.” Whatever had happened in the fusing of the two liquids bore study . . . later. Right now, they didn’t need a recurrence.

  There were hose clamps in the tool kit she and Ian had been using, and she fitted them around the fuel lines to repair the damage, then she turned the gandisol valve back on. Time enough to get the warp drive up and running after the ion engines had restored life support and ship control.

  As the green fluid once again filled the clear tubing, Luna heard relays clicking and fans whirling. Warmer air poured from the ventilation shafts and the lights flickered to life. Power once again flowed throughout the ship, and systems came back online.

  Luna breathed a sigh.

  Then her gaze was drawn to the asteroid avoidance device. As power reached it once again, the canister crackled, belching a plume of dark smoke.

  Luna hit the intercom, hoping the com system was back up. “Rik?” To hell with protocol. “You should have thrusters soon, but the asteroid avoidance system is down for now.”

  “Yeah,” he answered. There was a strange catch in his voice. “I don’t think we need that right now.”

  The sudden lights blinded Rik for a few tense moments, but the warm feel of life-giving oxygen blowing on his face was a welcome relief from the chilly darkness that had preceded it.

  Gravity kicked in, and the crew dropped slowly toward the deck. Those that were conscious swam toward their workstations or other crewmembers as they descended.

  Rik pulled himself into the captain’s chair, checking the display on his station. Most of his programs were back up, but the chronometer blinked 00:00:00 and the network connection read No Connection. That made sense. The network would have to connect to Galaxynet or the pirate’s private internet, to reset the ship’s clocks after a power outage.

  Must have lost our antenna.

  He needed to check in with engineering. They’d taken a hull breach.

  Frack, and Luna’s down there.

  But before he could reach the intercom button, Luna’s voice crackled over the connection. “Rik? You should have thrusters soon, but the asteroid avoidance system is down for now.”

  Relief flooded his system.

  “Yeah,” he answered. “I don’t think we need that right now.” Thank the galactic gods she’s okay.

  He paused pondering their situation, then added. “Get back up here as soon as you can.”

  He needed her. He needed her to help him figure out where they were. But more, he needed to see her, know she was all right. The depth of his concern rocked his core. He wasn’t allowed to care this much about anyone.

  Yet, when the elevator door opened and she was there, his heart felt lighter. It didn’t really matter where in the galaxy they were, if she was here with him.

  Her clothing was grease smeared and stained with gods-knew-what, her hair tousled. She was beautiful. His Starshine.

  Frack, what am I thinking? She’s a galaxy–class brain trust.

  And he was . . . what? A beat cop. An undercover agent. Hell, after this job, probably just a desk jockey. I have to face it. She and I wouldn’t mix in the real world. What we have . . . had, was just a fling. She was in a desperate situation and she needed me. Once I get her home, she’s gone.

  But first he had to get her home.

  “Can anyone pinpoint where we are?”

  Tina’s fingers were once again flying over her keypad. “This doesn’t make sense. The stars are all wrong. Nothing lines up with any starchart in the system. Hell, any starchart in the galaxy.”

  Luna gasped. “That’s not possible.” She was furiously inputting on her own terminal. “This can’t be right.”

  Rik was about to ask her to clarify when Kyra spoke up.

  “Captain, scanning is picking up a ship off starboard about two kilometers.”

  Rik’s hopes rose. “Another ship? They should be able to tell us where we are. Luna see if you can raise them.”

  “Captain.” Kyra’s tone was darker. “It’s The McCaffrey.”

  “Frack.” Rik let protocol slip as his frustrations grew. “Wherever we are, they came with us. What the hell happened?”

  Luna was frantically pounding her workstation keyboard, vigorously shaking her head. “It’s not possible, and yet . . .”

  Rik moved to her side, forcing her eyes to meet his. “Talk to me, Luna.”

  Her breath was ragged, her eyes wild. “Were no longer in the Milky Way. We’re in a different galaxy all together.”

  Chapter 23

  Luna rubbed her brow, but the pounding ache between her eyes was the least of her worries. For a hundred years, the Milky Way galaxy and its satellites had been conquered and explored. Every habitable planet had been at least touched, charted, and catalogued.

  Andromeda, the nearest major galaxy to the Milky Way had long ago been deemed too far to reach. 780 kiloparsecs of empty space stood between the two galaxies. Even with today’s high performance warp drives, 2.5 million light years meant generations of travel in colony ships that would never return, and probably never be heard from again.

  Possible? Luna supposed, but it wasn’t the kind of adventure Federation citizens lined-up for.

  Luna ran her calculations on the current star configurations as seen from The Starboard Mist. Once again the ship’s computers returned the impossible. They were in the Andromeda galaxy.

  How? In? Hell?

  That part would take longer.

  “How’s it going?” Rik’s soothing tones helpe
d relax the anxious quell in her stomach.

  They were in the captain’s cabin they shared, a quiet place she could think and enter data into the workstation here. The ship was sound and The McCaffrey appeared either dead, or keeping its distance. Everything was fine except they couldn’t go home.

  Luna’s neck cracked as she swiveled her head. Muscles ached along her shoulders from hours spent entering and analyzing data at the terminal. “The Starboard Mist’s computational abilities are optimized for starfield charting. They crawl when fed quantum physics equations.”

  Rik came up behind her and placed his wonderful hands on her shoulders, kneading out the tension.

  “Oh, that feels great.” She closed her eyes and lost herself in the wonder of Rik’s massage. “Just a few more things to enter, then we’ll have a couple of hours to wait.”

  “Any way to speed that up?” His touch felt so relaxing, but she could hear the tension in his tone.

  “If I still had Harvey, he could interface with the ship and add in his computational abilities to the system, but . . .” Her heart ached at the loss of her old friend.

  Rik pulled his hands away. “I’ll be right back.”

  As he exited the chamber Luna brought up the sickbay display on the intercom. She wanted to check on Ian’s progress.

  Ian had taken a deep gash to his leg during the accident and lost a lot of blood. He’d still been unconscious the last time she’d checked in with him, but she’d left him a note and her calculations up to that point in case he came to. Luna knew he’d want to get right to work on this phenomenon as soon as he heard about their situation.