Star Runner

by Mark McDonough

  Chapter Ten – Rescue Mission

  Beep, beep.

  “You answer it, Alex,” said Pete.

  Alexander jerked. He gulped. The last thing that he wanted to do was to answer that hail. After the ships that they’d just seen, he was afraid that he knew exactly who, or more precisely what, was hailing them. An alien. Hoping that he was wrong, he tentatively reached out and toggled the communication switch.

  Alexander cleared his throat. “Crewman Alexander Daniels, Work Pod Nine, responding.”

  There was no response.

  “Crewman Alexander Daniels, Work Pod Nine, responding,” he repeated.

  Alexander checked his panel. The line was open. Whoever was calling them could hear them and they should be able to receive a response. Their mysterious caller just wasn’t responding.

  “This is Crewman Alexander Daniels from Work Pod Nine. If you are receiving this, please respond,” he repeated firmly.

  “Maybe they can’t respond,” suggested Nick.

  “All of these other ships are dead. Maybe they’re damaged as well,” agreed Pete.

  Alexander nodded. “Nick, can you get a fix on where this is coming from?”

  Nick worked his board. “Got it.”

  “Unknown ship. If you can hear this, please respond.”

  Alexander waited. Nothing.

  “Do you require assistance?” he asked urgently.

  Silence.

  Alexander left the line open, just in case. “Nick, set a course. Let’s go take a closer look.”

  Ace plotted in the best course that he could with his malfunctioning navigation console. He punched the engines and watched the space in front of them shift around. The viewscreen steadied on a small light blue and purple dot.

  “On course, Alex,” Ace reported.

  “Unknown vessel. We are on an intercept course. We mean you no harm. If you require assistance, please respond.”

  As they sped on, the strange ship slowly increased in size. The light blue steadily resolved itself into four huge pods slung underneath a long, slim, purple superstructure. Each pod was easily twenty times the size of their own small pod. Attached to the top of the superstructure was a smaller purple pod.

  “I’m guessing maybe a cargo hauler,” said Pete, casting a critical eye over the ship.

  Nick nodded. “It’s definitely not built for speed.”

  “Is that the command module on top?” Alexander asked.

  “That’d be my guess,” said Pete.

  They peered at the strange ship. Eventually, they were able to make out some of the viewports in the module on top and part of the engines at the rear.

  “Looks like they’ve really taken a beating,” said Pete.

  Huge holes could now be seen in three of the four cargo pods. What little they could see of the engines also looked damaged. Nick eased the pod into a higher trajectory. From above, the damage looked even worse. A massive chunk of the superstructure between the command pod and the engines was completely missing and all that was left of two of the four engines was a mass of tangled metal.

  The fact that there was any power at all in the ship looked to be a complete miracle.

  The computer beeped.

  “We’re getting a response. Audio only,” Alexander reported.

  The message was hard to make out. It came faintly across the speakers full of static. Alexander lent in to the panel and fiddled with the controls, but even then, only the occasional word was intelligible.

  “Vessel . . . aide . . . join . . . girl child . . . delight . . . precious stone.”

  “Did you understand any of that?” Nick asked, staring at the communications panel.

  Alexander shook his head. “Not really.” He turned to the panel. “Unknown vessel. Could you please repeat your message?”

  “Vessel . . . aide . . . join vessel . . . salvage girl child . . . delight . . . precious stone.”

  “That wasn’t much better,” Pete commented dryly.

  “Something about joining vessels?” Alexander frowned. “Could that mean that they want us to dock with them?”

  “Makes sense,” Nick replied.

  “What did they mean ‘salvage girl child’?” Pete asked.

  Alexander just shook his head.

  “I think I can make out an airlock on the command module. Do you want me to make for that?” Ace asked.

  “Pete, what readings are you getting?” Alexander asked.

  Pete focussed his engineering sensors on the vessel in front of them. “They’re only putting out a bare minimum of power. My guess would be that they’re down to batteries. Life support seems to be cutting in and out. I’d say their ship will be dead within the hour.”

  “Dock with them, Nick,” Alexander commanded.

  Ace’s fingers moved over his board, setting up a course that would bring the pod to a position above the command module.

  “Unknown vessel. We are on course to dock with you. Please stand by,” Alexander said into the communicator.

  Ace glanced nervously down at his navigation display. At best, it was still only giving intermittent readings and he was loath to trust it. He brought the pod to a stop about one hundred metres above the ship. Slowly, he rotated the pod until the hatch was centred in the viewport.

  “Unfamiliar vessel . . . aide us . . .speed join vessel . . . save my daughter . . . much delight . . . Lornicaan’s Gem.”

  “Their message seems to be clearing up a bit,” commented Pete, listening to it repeat again.

  “Extending the arms and activating the electromagnetic claws,” Nick reported as he turned to the board at his side.

  The sound of the servos whirling seemed extraordinarily loud to Nick. He focussed on his board, trying to ignore the fact that he’d only ever done this once before, and that time he’d had A.B. sitting beside him ready to take over at a moments’ notice.

  Nick swallowed as he carefully fired the thrusters, bringing the pod in closer to the hatch. He glanced down at his nav display. The figures there were jumping all over the place. There was no way that he was willing to trust them. Sighing, he brought the pod to a halt.

  “Uh, Pete, maybe you should do this,” Nick said, swallowing his pride.

  “No way, Ace. You’re the pilot, not me.”

  “But I don’t know if I can,” Nick confessed quietly.

  “Nick, both Dad and Commander Bradford think that you’re one of the most natural pilots that they’ve ever seen,” said Alexander, looking at him.

  Nick stared down at his control panel.

  “You can do this, Ace,” Alexander reassured him.

  He stared back. “Alright,” he finally whispered.

  He looked up, ignoring the nav display completely. “Alright,” Ace said again, a little more confidently, flicking his hair out of his eyes, heart beating wilding in his chest.

  He feathered the thrusters and eyeballed the hatch; gave a slight course correction and watched the ship approaching. The arms reached out, ready to catch the ship looming ahead. Judging the distance, he touched the thrusters again. The pod slowed. Ace cocked his head and squinted. Feathering an extra touch to the starboard thruster, he nodded, satisfied.

  He waited, the sweat starting to gather on his forehead, even as it dripped down his back.

  Clunk. Clunk.

  The arms attached to the hull of the strange ship, not quite in unison like they were supposed to.

  “We’re attached,” Ace reported with a sigh.

  “Well done, Nick,” said Alexander.

  “Rotating the pod now,” Nick continued.

  The view of the ship in front of them gradually changed as the pod rotated ninety degrees so that the two airlocks lined up. Ace locked the pod into place and started retracting the arms.

  Clang.

  “We’re docked,” Ace reported.

  “Checking the seals. . . Seals are good,
” reported Pete.

  “Unknown vessel,” said Alexander opening up the communications line, “we are attached to your hull and will be boarding shortly.”

  “Come hastily. My daughter . . . to save. Much heed you must take.”

  “That almost made sense,” Nick commented.

  “We’re going on board?” Pete asked, ignoring Nick’s comment.

  “We have to. You’re the one who said that they’ve got less than an hour of life support left,” said Alexander, swivelling his chair to look at his brothers. “Besides, look at their ship. What sort of condition do you think they’re in?”

  Nick stood up and stretched. “Are we all going?”

  “No. You stay here with the pod, Nick. Pete and I’ll go,” Alexander answered.

  Pete checked his screen again. “They’ve still got life-support over there, but I don’t know for how much longer.”

  “At least we won’t need suits. Do we have any weapons on board?”

  “This is a Work Pod, Alex! It’s designed to fix things, not blow them up,” Pete told him sarcastically.

  Nick followed his brothers into the back. Pete checked his pouch, replacing the torch that had fallen out earlier.

  “Here, Alex, you might need this,” said Pete, handing him a second torch.

  “Alright. Any sign of trouble and we’ll get out of there as fast as we can,” Alexander told his brother. “See you soon, Nick.”

  Nick nodded as he stood beside Pete. They watched Alex enter the small one-person airlock. The door hissed as it cycled closed. They could see him through the small, round window as he waited for the green light. It flashed on and Alex began to disappear as he climbed up the ladder.