Recker's Chance

by Anthony James

  Meanwhile outside, hundreds of shuttles and construction bots – deconstruction bots in this case, Recker idly thought - hovered with apparent eagerness, as they waited to dissolve the joins holding the outer plating so they could carry off the Ixidar piece by piece.

  “Are we expected to sit on the bridge for fifteen days and provide technical assistance?” asked Eastwood. He sounded tired.

  A wave of that same exhaustion hit Recker, and his hand, operating under its own biological autopilot, crept towards his leg pocket where three Frenziol injectors waited. He clenched his fist and withdrew it.

  “I’m sure we’ll be stuck here,” Recker admitted. He pursed his lips. “We’ll be in no fit state to fight if we spend the next two weeks on double and triple shifts. I’ll make sure we get some downtime.”

  In spite of his bold words, Recker admitted defeat on the Frenziol and gave himself a full shot. Any downtime wasn’t coming soon, and besides, he wanted to be ready in case the Ancidium surprised them all by turning up at Terrani when it was least wanted.

  Less than fifteen minutes after they’d exited their shuttle, a contingent of Daklan soldiers and a large team of technicians arrived at the bottom of the steps leading to the bridge. Recker opened the blast door and told them it was clear. The Daklan took that as an invitation to enter and, moments later, the bridge was an unwanted chaos of jostling personnel. Recker hunted for the soldiers’ commanding officer.

  “I am [translation equivalent] Lieutenant Erdax-Ivar,” said one of the Daklan. He was unusual for having blue eyes, which were no less piercing than the greens of the others. “I command the soldiers here and elsewhere on the Ixidar.”

  “I’m Captain Recker. Thank you for your expertise and efficiency, Lieutenant,” said Recker. “Now please take your soldiers back down those steps to make some room.”

  “As you wish, Captain Recker.”

  Erdax-Ivar bellowed a harsh order through the chin speaker on his helmet and the newly arrived soldiers headed for the door.

  “Sergeant Vance, Sergeant Shadar, stay here until I tell you otherwise,” said Recker.

  “Yes, sir. We’ll keep to one side,” said Vance.

  “Who is the lead?” shouted Recker to the technicians.

  “I am the lead,” said one. She approached, six feet tall, slender and with her face partly hidden by dark hair crammed into the suit helmet she wore. “I am Lera-Vel.”

  “You’re a technician?” asked Recker, spotting the tiny insignia on her shoulder.

  Lera-Vel unclipped her helmet and lifted it over her head. “I design warships for the Daklan fleet and will oversee work on the Ixidar.”

  She was startlingly beautiful and Recker felt a thunderous pulse of adrenaline enter his body. “I’m Captain Recker. What is your plan?”

  Lera-Vel narrowed her eyes as if she were sizing him up either for a meal or to gauge his intelligence. “Our people know of the Ixidar, Captain Recker. We know what it did to our fleet at RETI-11, so be assured I understand its importance.” Her voice was rasping and alien, and it rose and fell in a way that was both peculiar and mesmerising.

  Recker nodded at her words. Sometimes the construction yard teams failed to see the bigger picture. “We need the Ixidar and the Gorgadar ready for battle.”

  “My initial evaluation, and study of the Aeklu’s and Verumol’s designs makes me believe we can use ternium kickstarter cables to link the batteries of the Ixidar and Gorgadar.”

  “You have twenty-thousand-metre cables here at Hakarul?” asked Recker.

  “No, but our fabrication plant is creating the required lengths, which will be joined in the construction yard and suspended by a shuttle bridge between the two vessels.”

  Recker opened his mouth to ask more questions about the process, but decided against it. He had his own areas of expertise and the construction yard had theirs. He asked something else. “Do you know where the batteries are located?”

  “Not yet.” This time Lera-Vel grinned at Recker. “We will find out within the hour.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “That is good.” The Daklan paused. “My people also know of Captain Recker. You fight well.”

  “It’s a talent I have,” said Recker, wondering where this was leading.

  “Perhaps, if I am successful in completing this project, you would spend time with me?”

  The blood pounded in Recker’s temples. “As soon as this work is done, I will be called away.”

  Lera-Vel stared. “That is a shame.” She turned. “Nevertheless, I will do what I can to finish this task quickly. You may change your mind.”

  “That I might,” said Recker softly, as Lera-Vel joined the others of her team.

  He went to sit back down, only to find Corporal Montero grinning broadly at him.

  “Don’t say a word,” he warned.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”

  With nowhere else to go, Recker sat and awaited developments. He kept in contact with the Gorgadar, which was a scene of similar activity. True to her word, Lera-Vel and her team located the Ixidar’s batteries within the hour and, in a significant development, traced the linking conduits to their termination point which was inside the outer plating on the eastern face of the spaceship.

  “This is the place where the energy transfer took place between the Ixidar and the Ancidium,” said Lera-Vel, pointing at a highlighted area of the hull she’d brought up on one of the command console screens.

  “Do we have any way to extract the energy without taking the ship apart?” asked Recker hopefully.

  “The location of these conduits is convenient,” said the Daklan. “We will remove the armour from this section and attempt to link with the Gorgadar. If we cannot make the conduits channel energy, then we must remove approximately thirty billion tons of ternium to reach the batteries themselves. If we cannot tap directly into the batteries, we must move them from one ship to the other.”

  “Which will be the worst-case scenario,” said Recker.

  “Very much the worst-case scenario,” said Lera-Vel. “Now I have a greater understanding of the Ixidar’s design, I believe the construction yard will require twenty-five days to switch the hardware and repair the damage. Even if we did no repairs, we would not finish in fifteen days.”

  “How long?” asked Recker.

  “Eighteen days.”

  “With no way to reduce the total?”

  Lera-Vel smiled at him and he detected the sadness in her eyes. “I know warships and how they are constructed, Captain Recker. Eighteen days is what it will take. We must hope the worst case does not come to pass.”

  “How long to complete the energy transfer if you can channel through the conduits without removing any more than the covering armour? And is there an easily-accessed linking place on the Gorgadar?”

  “To answer your last question, yes, the Gorgadar has a similar conduit and it links to that vessel’s underside. The last of the cable sections will be available in four hours and the operation to connect the two warships will begin immediately afterwards.”

  “Does the yard intend to begin dismantling the warships at the same time?”

  “That order has not yet been given, Captain Recker. To find out, you must speak to your superiors.”

  “I’ll do that,” said Recker. “Thanks.”

  Lera-Vel smiled again and rested her hand briefly on his shoulder. Then, she picked up the diagnostic tablet she’d left on the command console and returned to her team.

  “Corporal Montero, I want a channel to Fleet Admiral Telar,” said Recker. “And if you wink again, I’ll have you demoted.”

  “I’ve got something in my eye, sir.” Montero blinked rapidly. “Requesting a channel to the Fleet Admiral. He’s busy.”

  Recker swore under his breath. He wanted to know what was planned, but interrupting something potentially more important would only anger Telar.

  “Maybe he’ll come back to you later, si
r,” said Montero.

  “I doubt it,” said Recker. “He’s got too much to deal with.”

  Three hours passed and the main dismantling work didn’t start, though a cluster of robots was busily removing the outer plating around the conduit terminations on both the Ixidar and the Gorgadar.

  Recker could understand the reason for holding off – keeping these two warships operational for as long as possible was a hedge in case the Lavorix changed their plans. The HPA had huge teams working on predictive models that could analyse the tiniest pieces of data and use them to build probability tables for future events. From Recker’s experience, those tables were nine parts bullshit and one part guesswork, but high command – Telar included – had a degree of faith in the output.

  Or maybe the technical teams have a high expectation of success for the nonintrusive cable link.

  Taking a deep breath, Recker called Lera-Vel over.

  “Lera-Vel, what is the likelihood of the easiest method working out?” he asked.

  “In theory, there is a high chance of success, however we are working with part-known technology, Captain Recker. It is possible the Lavorix have created their extraction technology to channel its energy directly into the Ancidium and nowhere else. Why they would do so, I can only guess.”

  “What is the next stage in the operation?”

  “The cable sections are ready and they are on their way from the fabrication plant.”

  “That was three hours, not four.”

  Lera-Vel grinned at Recker and her green eyes speared into him. Her teeth were perfect and the alienness of her upward-curving fangs only added to the fascination. “The Hakarul yard is the best in the known universe.”

  Having seen the construction facilities inside the Ancidium, Recker wasn’t ready to agree, though he didn’t mention what he’d seen on the Lavorix mothership. “The linking operation will start soon?”

  “That is correct. However, we must place the Ixidar into an offline state before we begin.”

  “Nobody told me,” said Recker. “Why do you need to shut the warship down?”

  “It is likely the Ixidar’s security systems will prevent the flow of energy from the batteries,” said Lera-Vel. “If the warship is shut down, we can bypass the Lavorix technology and encourage the natural movement of energy along our cable.”

  “There’s nothing natural about what’s in those batteries, Lera-Vel.”

  Her hand rested on his shoulder again and Recker found himself wondering how she would look in normal clothes instead of the unflattering spacesuit she wore.

  “I know the tragedy, human. I also know that the Lavorix themselves provided the energy in these batteries. Their deaths will benefit us.”

  “Must the Gorgadar also be shut down?” Recker asked.

  “No – the security measures do not prevent an inflow of energy, only an outflow.”

  “Am I needed here on the Ixidar?” he asked. “If you’re shutting things down, I’ll find somewhere to stretch my legs.”

  “You are not needed,” confirmed Lera-Vel. “I recommend you wait until the warship is offline, else who would pilot it should the enemy appear in the skies of Terrani?”

  “How long before the shut down?”

  “It will be soon.”

  Recker fidgeted while he waited and his eyes kept drifting towards Lera-Vel. Something about her made him feel both sick to his stomach and lighter than air. Montero watched him from the corner of her eye.

  “She made the first move, sir. All you have to do is say yes.”

  “What?” Recker asked, dragged back into reality.

  “The Daklan, sir. Lera-Vel. She seems nice.”

  Recker wouldn’t have normally engaged in the conversation, but Montero was easy company and not one to gossip. “Nice?” he said. “That’s not the first word that comes to mind.”

  “I didn’t want to refer to her physical attributes, sir. In case it made me look crude.”

  Recker laughed. “She is something.”

  “You’re a lucky man, sir,” said Montero. She gave him another wink. “Damnit, something in my eye again.”

  “You’d best ask Corporal Hendrix to take a look at that,” said Recker dryly. “In case it affects your aim.”

  Lera-Vel approached the command console again and her eyes met his. “We are ready to shut down. Do the internal doors run from backup power? Otherwise you will be required to set them into an open state if you wish to leave.”

  “There’s backup power,” said Recker. “The lights will stay on as well.”

  He stood. Lera-Vel didn’t step back to give him room and he found himself only inches away, and looking directly into her face. Still she didn’t move and Recker brushed past, unable to take his eyes away.

  “I’ll be on the comms if I’m needed,” he said. “How long before the energy transfer is completed, assuming everything goes to plan?”

  “That depends on the flow rate, Captain Recker,” said Lera-Vel. “Hours, though not many.”

  Recker smiled at her. “I’m going to pay the Gorgadar a visit.”

  “And I will see you when you return?”

  “I promise.”

  Lera-Vel raised one arm and made a circular motion with three fingers. One of the other technicians across the bridge made the same movement, spoke something into her comms unit and then the consoles simultaneously went offline. A moment later, the ever-present drone of the propulsion dropped to silence. Recker didn’t know how the Daklan had managed to accomplish the shut down since they hadn’t obviously interacted with the bridge consoles, and he didn’t ask. Instead, he headed over to Lieutenant Eastwood.

  “I’m heading to the Gorgadar,” he said.

  “Need company?” asked Eastwood, standing from his own console.

  “You’re welcome along.”

  “What about me, sir?” asked Montero.

  “Do you want to come, or do you need to see Corporal Hendrix about that eye?”

  Montero glanced over her shoulder at where the other members of the squad were laughing and joking on a private channel. “I’ll stick around here, if that’s all right, sir?”

  “Go and catch up with the squad,” said Recker with a laugh. “I’ll bet Drawl’s invented a few more legends about himself that you haven’t heard yet.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Montero gave Recker a smile filled with warmth and then headed over toward the squad. A few seconds later, having informed Sergeants Vance and Shadar of his intentions, Recker left the bridge with Eastwood.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Recker’s brisk pace soon had the knots out of his muscles. The interior of the Ixidar was swarming with Daklan soldiers and technicians, but not so many that he couldn’t stretch his legs properly.

  “I’m wondering if we should stay put on the Ixidar,” said Eastwood as they exited the internal shuttle car. A squad of Daklan soldiers were in the room outside and watchful for signs of trouble.

  “The Daklan have switched everything off, Lieutenant,” Recker reminded him. “Even if there’s an emergency, it’ll take an hour or more to bring everything back to an operational state.”

  “Are you expecting an emergency?” asked Eastwood.

  Recker detected the suspicion in the other man’s voice. “No I’m not. What gave you the impression I was?”

  “It’s just…” Eastwood cut himself off and tried again. “There’s no need for us to leave the Ixidar. Usually when you decide on something that’s not entirely logical, it’s because you’ve had a feeling.”

  “Not this time,” said Recker.

  “Then why are we leaving the Ixidar? We’ve already stretched our legs.”

  “I don’t know.” Recker hadn’t been expecting the question and he was stumped. “I just want to visit the Gorgadar – to see how the others are coping.”

  “Well, maybe you don’t always get a feeling. Maybe you’re just one of those people who does something because you get it
into your head that it needs to be done, and then when you follow that instinct, suddenly end up in the right place at the right time.”

  Recker was about to give a flippant response. He didn’t and he slowed to a halt. “I don’t understand.”

  “I think you’re a statistical anomaly,” said Eastwood. “Whatever you do, you end up causing or responding to a significant event.”

  “The right place at the right time,” Recker repeated. “Whether I want to be there or not.”

  “We could return to the bridge, sir.”

  “I don’t want to do that.”

  “In which case, I suggest we get our asses in gear.”

  Recker picked up the pace, without being exactly sure why. When he arrived at the bay where the Gorgadar’s shuttle was still docked, the scent of burned Lavorix hung cloying in the air, and the blood of those chewed-up corpses was turned to a cracked brown layer.

  The two men entered the shuttle’s airlock, crossed the loading bay, and climbed the steps to the cockpit.

  “Did you tell anyone we were coming?” asked Eastwood.

  “Lieutenant Burner.”

  With a growing sense of unease, Recker activated the launch sequence for the shuttle and the huge doors on the bay lumbered open, the backup power clearly struggling with their weight. Piloting the vessel along the tunnel, Recker checked via the Gorgadar that he had clearance to fly across the construction yard without being shot to pieces by a ground launcher or a jumpy Daklan warship captain.

  “Is something wrong, sir?” asked Burner.

  Recker wondered if he’d fought so often with this same crew that they sensed when something was amiss, even when he couldn’t feel it himself.

  “Maybe, Lieutenant. Is there anything on the sensors?”

  “No, sir. The Daklan fleet has dispersed and most of them are back on normal patrol.”

  “Have you heard from Fleet Admiral Telar?”

  “Yes, sir, just about two minutes ago. He’s agreed with Admiral Ivinstol to hold off the most destructive work on the Ixidar and the Gorgadar until it’s absolutely necessary.”