Against A Rock

by Kalin Ringkvist

  Floreina systematically took control of repair bots, checking priorities, and guiding decisions. She touched her father’s mind for a moment. He jumped in and out of the same repair drones, synchronizing with the damage reporting systems. He was frantic, but she knew he had things under control.

  She backed out of the damage control systems to look over the entire cannon. Ethanial seemed to have his systems handled, segregated from the chaos in damage control. His mind focused on the tiny target, as though feeling its propulsion and trajectory as spiritual entities instead of numbers. Like a rhythmic dance, she felt him passing values into his tracking calculations to direct strike after strike on their targets.

  Floreina was proud.

  As she admired her crew, an explosion tore through the main bank of coolant pipes.

  She refocused to watch it, calmly at first.

  She perked up milliseconds later as the explosions moved down an unexpected plasma router. In the repair command center at the base of the turret, her father stood at his monitors still punching in orders to drones and slaves.

  “Daddy!” Floreina screamed through the loudspeaker in his room.

  But Miltein only had time to glance at his daughter’s voice before the explosion took out a two meter section near the ceiling, rupturing a large coolant pathway. He ducked, and for a split second, Floreina felt relief as the shrapnel missed him.

  But Miltein looked back, and Floreina’s hope drained as the coolant poured from the rupture.

  He stumbled backward, the coolant splattering against him. He blocked with his upper arms, but Floreina knew that every drop would freeze a chunk of flesh.

  Her body was rigid as her mind flashed red and her skin seemed to expand, as though every cell in her body wanted to burst.

  But as quickly as the emotion overwhelmed her, she began to work through it.

  Shut down the turret, Floreina ordered, searching for the source of the coolant. All repair teams, move to the safety perimeter. The cannon is incapacitated.

  She found several slaves near her father, already on their way out of the danger zone, “Get to the repair command center!” she shouted over the nearest comm. “Get Miltein out alive and there will be great rewards.”

  And as she communicated over the speakers, Lieutenant Adran said, I hate to be the one to mention that Allihence has not authorized a shutdown… the captain was very clear that we go until incapacitated.

  The situation has changed, Floreina replied.

  Belay that order! Allihence ordered. But as Floreina expected, the captain had too much to deal with at the moment to make certain her orders were followed.

  And Floreina sensed a pause in her crew.

  I gave an order, Floreina told them. You know this is the best decision we can make.

  And that’s all they seemed to need. They began ordering their crew out of the danger areas and shutting down the firing systems.

  But the chest pain became overwhelming. She looked back at her father, searching through scattered signals of half functional cameras. His mindlink had been disconnected in the chaos. After a long second, she found him dragging himself as the coolant pooled onto the floor, his body pockmarked with coolant burns. He tried to scramble onto the chair, but fell back to the floor.

  Floreina jumped to the three slaves already at the door. Two of them attempted to pry the hatch open with a pipe and the other shouted into a nearby comm panel, begging for specific instructions. But they already had all the tools she could give them, and her heart began to echo through her chest as she searched the local systems and realized she could do little more than watch.

  Take over command, Adran, Floreina ordered.

  From the corner of her eye she noticed Adran look up hesitantly.

  Allihence suddenly came into full view. Maintain your post, Commander!

  Even with her father lying half dead in the command center, Floreina knew she would never leave her post in a true emergency. But this was not one of those times. They were fighting belt pirates and could warp away any time. Floreina wished to communicate these arguments, but as she pulled her data connection, all she could think was, Rot in hell, Captain.

  A wave of dizziness struck her as she forced herself from the system. Continuing up, she ripped the cable from her head and jumped from the command chair. She stumbled and ran toward the hatchway.

  Almost immediately she regretted her words.

  She sprinted down the corridors into the depths of the cannon, her mapping application displaying the route before her eyes, overlapping her regular vision.

  She estimated she could get to her father within two minutes, hopefully in time to speak to him before he died, possibly in time to pull him out and save him. Hopefully the slaves would have forced the door open.

  And Floreina checked her laser sidearm in its holster on her right leg. The room would be too dangerous for herself. Instead, she would need to order the slaves to go in…

  But she was halted by a jammed hatchway. She pulled the handle as she heard repair drones on the other side attempting to cut it down. It refused to move, but she kept pulling. She put her foot against the wall and screamed in frustration. She stepped back and gave it another long, hard pull.

  The latches gave and the door ripped free.

  The hatch fell and Floreina tried to leap backwards, but slipped under its weight.

  The hatch landed, the edge coming down on her shin. She let out an abrupt scream, cut short as her head slammed to the floor. Her shin snapped as strange sensations surrounded her. Her medical interface forced itself to her consciousness as she descended into colorful dizziness.

  “Daddy!” she cried.

  Her body sank into the deck plating.

  ______ ______ ______

  “The Airlock.”

  She heard the words from the backward depths of her consciousness as she dreamt of mutiny and slave revolts, and of fighting for her life against an invisible, unjustified, and un-Godly enemy.

  Even in unconsciousness the fear overwhelmed everything… or was that all she was? …an entity of fear and confusion without a human form; a blip in a computer system, or a spirit, cursed to float eternally through God’s realm, embodying nothing more than a state of misunderstanding and terror.

  …she had to be more than that. Fear has a purpose; it’s a guide, if used properly. Feel it; understand it; embrace it… and its power can be yours…

  “Airlock.”

  Someone was speaking.

  Mental applications begged for attention.

  Floreina forced herself into her physical form, as if at gunpoint, first noticing her eyelids tightly shut. As the sensations coursed through her, she coaxed her eyes open.

  And she felt her hands. Her right lay limp on the floor. Her left hand, however, was doing something… clinging to a mass of material.

  Her vision opened to a blurry scene. She lay on the floor, propped up, clinging to a security officer's uniform, and saw, in her peripheral vision, the edge of the airlock hatch.

  Another soldier stood behind him, yelling.

  Floreina looked around, barely moving, as the soldier attempted to pry her fingers from his clothing.

  And she came together in an instant, and pulled herself up to grip the man’s uniform. The pain in her leg sent trembling waves up her body.

  “Just punch her!” shouted the man’s partner.

  And Floreina felt a blow against the top of her head, spinning and distorting reality.

  Clearly she did not currently have the capacity to do anything about the situation…

  But she still had one secret weapon…

  Floreina accessed her emergency medical implant, closing her eyes to focus on the options. She selected a healthy combination of adrenaline, pain killers, and quick acting steroids, set them to administer slowly over sixty seconds, and injected an initial boost.

  Her eyes widened as the drugs hit her bloodstream. Colors brightened and her face grew hot. S
he looked into her attacker’s eyes as his second blow contacted her cranium. Her head shook and her anger soared.

  Floreina dragged herself upward, pulling at the soldier’s uniform, as her one good leg struggled to figure out how to move. She rose quickly, feeling stronger with every thought. Her left leg found a footing as she came face to face with the soldier. Her right hand moved, almost instantly from his shirt to his neck, and she clamped, her fingernails digging into his flesh.

  She looked at the soldier’s partner, his weapon drawn, searching for an opening. “Kick her foot!” he shouted. “Get her off you!”

  So Floreina hugged her attacker, pressing her chest and stomach tightly against him as her fingers dug ever deeper into his neck.

  He coughed and choked as he punched her awkwardly in the side. She felt him kicking her broken leg as it dangled. A wild grin crossed her face, imagining her eyes glowing red with fury.

  She closed the gap as though kissing a lover, but opened her mouth, bared her teeth, and clamped down on the man’s upper lip. She pulled suddenly, not wishing to move her head too far and risk a shot from the man’s partner. The soldier screamed as her teeth passed through his lip. She tasted blood and stared into the soldier’s eyes, as if to say, “Hi; isn’t this an interesting happening?”

  And she pushed with her good leg, throwing her weight onto her attacker. He stumbled backward, and Floreina kept her face against his, slowly biting a mass of flesh. They fell, and the bulk of his lip pulled free. For a moment, they were separated enough for the other soldier to get a shot. The laser heated her neck as it grazed the back of her uniform.

  She landed on top of him, spitting his lip in his face. She pulled close, rolling to the side, trying to keep moving to avoid the partner’s shots. Her fingers dug into the soldier’s neck.

  She stared into his eyes, but at the same time, from the corner of her vision, watched him getting a hold on his pistol, and just as he freed it from its holster, she made her move. Releasing his neck, she rolled to bring both hands toward the soldier’s sidearm. Her hands surrounded his as his finger slipped around the trigger.

  Floreina guided his hand to point at his partner, and squeezed his finger.

  The laser clapped into the partner’s armor, a blinding flash emanating from his chest. Floreina watched just long enough to confirm that he dropped his weapon.

  Now able to put a little distance between her and her opponent, she removed her right hand from the struggle over the weapon. Pulling herself up as far as possible, she began punching, aiming for the center of his already bloody face. With her left, she continued struggling for the firearm. Meanwhile, the soldier’s punches connecting with her own face and body.

  In one last push, she twisted the man’s wrist, pulling the weapon free. She grabbed it with both hands, pulled away from her enemy, and brought the weapon around to point at his face, centimeters from his brutally exposed teeth. He grappled his hands around the pistol a moment before she pulled the trigger.

  His face exploded, flesh searing as it splattered across the scene. Her face burned as the hot Amarrian shrapnel slapped her skin.

  But it was not time to rest; not for another few seconds. She rolled off the Amarrian soldier to look at his partner, still clutching his chest. His head bobbed. His free arm struggled to lift his sidearm… unsuccessfully.

  Floreina carefully aimed and fired.

  The commander then rested against the first soldier and looked out on the scene in a simplistic, uncomprehending daze.

  Confused thoughts raced through her mind, scenarios, questions. How could this have happened? Were they sent under orders of the captain? Would someone else just come for her to throw her back out the airlock?

  She sat up, holding the weapon at ready and looked at the other firearm, but her head began to spin as she realized that even without another wave of attackers, she was already in grave danger. She exhaled and pulled herself across the floor toward the gun.

  Her emergency drug injections had overloaded her system. She checked her medical implant, closing her eyes, and received readouts from her heart monitor. She identified a foreign sedative in her veins, and the system informed her that she could be nearing cardiac arrest.

  The implant gave its recommendation: hand over control to her medical implant, and allow it to administer treatments as it saw fit, which most likely meant going relatively unconscious for an unknown period of time.

  But she still had to deal with the situation.

  Most likely these two soldiers had been sent by Allihence. However, they were probably working in secret, as the captain knew most of Floreina’s crew would not support this. This meant these two were probably working alone, and that the recording systems in this area would be disabled.

  So she needed to deal with the mess, and there was only one way to do that without killing herself.

  Floreina thanked the lord for giving her such close relationships with the Minmatar, just for situations like this.

  She had already killed two of her fellow crew members; two Amarrians she did not know. She would need to kill one more… this one being an innocent if not an Amarrian.

  And Floreina reached out with her remote signal and searched for Mahran.

  “Hello, Ma'am,” said her slave a moment later.

  “Are you alone?” Floreina asked.

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “I need you to come to airlock fourteen in docking bay four, immediately. Drop whatever you’re doing. This is a matter of life and death. Tell absolutely no one.”

  “Understood,” replied the slave. “Will be there in ten minutes.”

  “Thank you, Mahran. You are greatly appreciated. Get here quickly.”

  She slumped against the corpse as the implant did its work. The adrenaline slowly cleared to be replaced with combinations of healing agents and pain killers.

  Floreina relinquished her body to the little computer in her brain.

  ______ ______ ______

  Floreina snapped up as her slave entered the docking bay. He stopped, mouth hanging partially open, eyes jumping back and forth.

  Mahran took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said. “I don’t want to know… just tell me what to do.” He approached slowly then darted forward. “Master!” he exclaimed, squatting before her to look at her injuries.

  Floreina stared through a haze as he touched her leg, sparking waves of pain, examined her arms, and finally reached a careful and sheepish hand to push her dirty and matted hair out of the way to reveal her bruised face and the bumps across her head. Normally such touching would be inappropriate, but in this situation, it seemed natural and expected.

  At first she could not speak as she stared at Mahran and saw the fear in his eyes. “Please help me,” she said, unable to think of anything more specific.

  “Shall I call for a medic? I guess not… you would’ve called one yourself. Do you need me to carry you to the slave’s medical bay?” Mahran was a quick study for a Minmatar, knowing already that she could not go to a normal sick-bay, where she would be noticed. The slave’s medical station, while not as well equipped, would not have a problem treating her anonymously.

  “Not yet,” Floreina said. “I need you to clean up this mess, then take me to the medical station.”

  “You don’t look well, Master,” said Mahran. “I should get you to a doctor, then I can come back and clean. If you give me a code to the airlock I can dispose of this without you.”

  Floreina shook her head. “Help me up to the control panel.”

  Mahran awkwardly reached for her, and lifted her from her shoulders. She struggled to help, but Mahran was very strong and didn’t have much trouble dragging her up. He pulled her across the floor to seat her in a rolling chair in front of the airlock controls. She put the first pistol into the holster on her thigh, and set the extra next to the network terminal.

  She sat for a moment, simply breathing, as Mahran hovered, looking anxious. She opened the airlock d
oor. “Get the bodies out,” she ordered.

  Mahran jumped to the task and within minutes had hauled the bodies into the airlock. Floreina struggled to keep her eyes open and focused on the task as she sealed the hatch and blew the airlock to expel the corpses into space.

  She ordered Mahran to find cleaning supplies from a nearby janitor’s station. He sprinted there and back and began rapidly scrubbing the floors.

  For now, Floreina kept the airlock hatch closed. She would need to throw him out soon, and somehow that idea kept coming back to her mind. After everything that had happened, disposing of one Minmatar shouldn’t require a second thought. But a nagging sensation lingered.

  There’s no other way to guarantee his silence, she told herself.

  But Mahran had been a gift from her father.

  She drifted in and out of sleep several times before Mahran finished cleaning the outside of the airlock. As he came closer to finishing, Floreina tried to force herself out of the haze, and to sit up in the chair, the pain searing through her leg. She felt the bones grind as she moved, and her vision went blank.

  Coming back just a few seconds later, she looked up at the control panel. She would need to watch Mahran closely so that she could close the door right as he was finished cleaning inside the airlock.

  But as she tried to wake up, she realized she would not be able to focus long enough to do anything reliably. And there was no way she’d be able to drag herself all the way down to the depths of the slave quarters on her own.

  She needed to trust him instead, and reward him for keeping his silence. That’s the only way; have faith in the bond between master and slave.

  “Okay, just cleanup in there…” Floreina tapped the key to open the hatch to the airlock. “Then you find a way to get me to the slave medic. You will not tell one soul about this… and I will give you luxury coupons and long weekends. …tell one person and I’ll have you terminated. …okay, there Buddy…” she trailed off as she fought to remain conscious.

  “You’re a good boy, Mahran,” she said. “I know you’ll do me proud. I’m going to sleep soon… You clean up as fast as you can and get me to a doctor.”