by Blair Wylie
“None of the Warriors were suited-up for space, but some were wearing what looks like a flexible kind of body armour. A few of those guys were also wearing what looks like some kind of electrical power-generating back-pack. Those guys might have been guards, as there are lances or spears on the floor near their corpses. I strongly suspect those spears may also have had an additional feature like a Taser. I’m sure you will want to have a closer look at them yourself, as I know you have similar weapons, and armour.
“The toroidal section is almost a completely open floor plan, so it was relatively easy to move around in there with the drone. There are only three private cabins. Perhaps a few high ranking officers had special status, and the rest of the company had the same rank or hierarchical status? There are sixty bunks in one area. That may mean there are more bodies to be found somewhere else on the vessel, and that Warriors did some ‘hot bunking’ on shifts?
“There is a kitchen with a very large pantry and freezer. It’s right next to what looks like a combination mess hall and lecture hall that would seat thirty Warriors. And there is an area that looks like an exercise or training room. Also, there are what look like lounge, sitting areas in four separate places, but nothing resembling a recreational area. Recreating might not have been one of their allowed activities, perhaps? There are what must be toilet facilities spaced-out about evenly throughout the torus.
“The bridge is a fairly obvious feature, thankfully. There are a few glowing lights on workstation panels within it, probably from light-emitting diodes. So, there must be at least a trickle of electric current flowing in a few places on the Flagship. That is very good to see. I am now feeling a bit more upbeat about our ability to break into their computer systems, and hopefully get some real power back on again within the vessel.
“I suspect there are thermophotovoltaic cells onboard, somewhere. They work like solar cells, only they tap infrared energy emitted by something hot, rather than say, visible light photons from the sun. Those cells could also be the heat source that is keeping the interior space well above absolute zero. But we all know that it is still really freaking cold inside this temporary space hulk!
“In addition to the suspected, perhaps ‘emergency only’, radioisotope thermoelectric generators, we know from our intelligence reports that the Masters used deuterium fusion generators, for their magneto-plasmadynamic ion space-thrust drive systems, and to generate electrical power for primary weapon and life support systems. Those large power-producing units are probably all located in the engine compartment, behind some radiation and heat shielding, and probably some massive, currently closed doors.
“So, bottom line, Captain, I can see no reason why we cannot now proceed as planned. Specifically, I suggest it is now time to have a first-hand look around the toroidal section. Over.”
Captain Fitzpatrick waited for only a few moments to say rather loudly in reply, “I fully agree with your suggestion, Commander.
“And therefore, Commodore, I ask your permission to bring over the rest of the Ranger Company now. I assure you that no one will actually enter the toroidal section until we are all fully assembled and fully sorted-out. That will give Commander Yamato the opportunity to enter the Flagship right now, and get a bit of sleep, too. I’d say he has definitely earned it!
“As planned, when we are ready, Lieutenant Ghandi will lead his platoon into the toroidal section using the ‘spoke’ we discovered with the two ladders. Commander Yamato, First Lieutenant Sweetwater and Special Sergeant Gonzales will go with Ghandi’s platoon.
“Do you concur, Commodore? Over.”
There was a short pause, then in a clear, strong voice, Commodore Chamberlain said, “I fully concur, Captain. Proceed as we have planned.
“Now, while the torus team is doing their thing, I know you and the rest of the Company will be tempted to try to open things up in the cylindrical section, like modules, bins or lockers. But only do that if you suspect there might be an immediate hazard that has to be dealt with. Hopefully, Commander Yamato and the bridge team will soon be able to access database and control systems that can tell us exactly what lies behind every door and hatch on the vessel.
“That might be wishful thinking, of course. But I strongly suspect the bridge team may be able to remotely open hatches and doors so you will not have to actually break into anything forcefully. We should suspect that some places might be mined or booby-trapped, until we know for certain otherwise.
“So, Captain, after marshalling your company and sorting everyone out, with the help of Lieutenant Ghandi’s platoon, focus on getting all of the frozen corpses the hell out of there. We don’t want them to start melting and stinking up the place. That would not just be bad for morale. The corpses may be biologically hazardous.
“But we have to do this right. Carefully strip and search every corpse. Itemize and document everything you find on the bodies, carefully. And get before-and-after digital images of every corpse.
“Seal-up one corpse in a body bag, and send it back to the command ship in the shuttle. We’ll perform a comprehensive autopsy on it over here, and collect DNA and other tissue samples.
“Every other corpse should be pitched-out into space using the airlock in the caisson module. That can only be done, of course, when the shuttle is not docked there. Try to push them in the opposite direction to the vessel’s trajectory so they won’t bother us again.
“When all of the corpses are removed, perform a complete interior sweep for known human pathogens and toxins. When the power comes back on, and you have some hopefully room-temperature heat in there, perform the complete sweep again before you take off your space suits.
“On second thought, check in with me again for a final okay before anyone in the Company takes off a suit.
“Now, do you have any questions, Captain? Over.”
Captain Fitzpatrick immediately barked, “No, sir! All fully understood, sir! Over.”
“Right, then proceed as ordered, Captain,” Chamberlain replied crisply. Then after a long pause, he added quietly, “And good luck to everyone. I know you will all perform your duty safely and efficiently. Over.”
28
Captain Fitzpatrick found a quiet little nook to himself. He sat down on some sort of small container to enjoy a boxed lunch. He hooked his booted feet under a gap under the next container so he would not float away in the zero gravity.
He had not been able to have any real, solid food for about four days, and he was famished. The packaged food was basic, but it still tasted great. The food tube inside his space helmet had been supplying him with some liquid nourishment on demand. It had been sustaining, but far from satisfying.
It also felt great to be finally out of his damp, confining and smelly space suit. Thankfully, the two fully-comprehensive ‘known toxin and pathology’ sweeps had not turned up anything of concern within the interior of the Warrior Flagship.
The power had been fully restored in the Flagship for about twenty-six hours now. It was no longer a space hulk. An artificial intelligence system was once again automatically self-controlling the vessel’s attitude, and this same Master-designed AI system had decided to realign the bow of the huge vessel with its direction of travel through space.
The Rangers were now all wearing flexible body armour. Each Ranger was also armed with a holstered-blaster, a Taser-tipped spear, and either a short stabbing sword in a scabbard, or a mace, or a short-handled axe holstered in a back pouch. Most Rangers also carried a half-body-length shield. Those who were without a shield had a modified Chinese Repeating Crossbow with a large attached magazine of composite-shaft arrows. And a few especially mighty, ‘crack shots’ had a composite long bow with a quiver of armour-piercing, composite-shaft arrows.
Use of a blaster was strictly forbidden, unless a countermanding order was directly issued by a Ranger officer. It was more certain now that there were many probably explosive or flammable threats all around them.
But the pri
mary fear remained accidentally puncturing or rupturing the hull. There was only a relatively thin metallic barrier separating them from the vacuum of space. A shot from a blaster, or a higher-velocity kinetic weapon, simply carried to too much energy should a living target be missed, evenly partially.
There was still a large section of the Flagship that could not be accessed and fully checked-out. So, Captain Fitzpatrick had insisted upon full combat readiness. He was pleased that he had not heard any protests from within Company ranks about what could have been perceived as ‘overkill’ readiness.
Everyone knew by now that there was no obvious way to open the door to the engine compartment. There was some sort of intricate, multi-level, password-protected security system that was still in place. Commander Yamato and his team of computer experts on the bridge had so far been unable to crack the code, so to speak.
And if there was indeed a door in the centre of the engine compartment bulkhead, it was obviously stoutly made. Lieutenant Clayton had quite openly admitted he had no idea how to cut through it, even with the suite of sophisticated tools he had on hand. His probing, non-destructive analyses suggested that the obvious bulkhead, and the possible door, were composed of many layers of various types of metals, and probably many layers of high-tensile strength fiber mesh embedded in a tough, rock-hard polymer matrix.
The barrier was clearly more than just a radiation shield.
But the bridge team had been able to break into many parts of the computerized system that controlled the Flagship, and some parts of the immense, ancillary, data storage system. And Commander Yamato had just informed the command staff that he thought they were finally getting closer to discovering the location of the ship’s log.
With that log in hand, the location of the home planet of the Warriors should be revealed. And then their primary mission would be accomplished.
Fitzpatrick had placed his helmet on the floor beside him, and loosely tied it down with a single Velcro strap around some sort of hook embedded in the floor. As he was washing the last of his meal down with some bottled water, a little red light on the top of his helmet, and another one on his wrist strap, both started flashing. The red lights indicated someone was calling him on the command frequency. Yellow lights would have indicated an incoming call on the operation frequency.
Fitzpatrick quickly untied the strap and put his helmet back on. Then he said calmly into the built-in mouthpiece, “This is Fitzpatrick, go ahead. Over.”
“Captain, this is Yamato. Look, there is something strange and alarming going on behind the bulkhead door. We’re not sure what exactly. We have been trying for a day or so to get the lights back on in there. We just had some of them on for a minute or two, and then we think we saw some sort of movement. But it was all a bit blurry. Then all of the lights went out again, and we don’t know why exactly.
“Also, we are pretty sure all of the video cameras in the engine compartment have now been disabled. So, instead of continuing to try to open the bulkhead door, we thought it best to put our own extra layer of password protection into the Master-designed security system.
“But someone, or something, is now trying very hard to hack into that system! And the attempts are being made from somewhere within the engine compartment! If it’s a living Warrior, they may succeed, as they obviously know this ship a whole lot better than we do.
“Therefore, I strongly suggest Captain that you ready your company for an imminent attack that will probably come through the bulkhead door. Over.”
“We’re on it, Commander!” yelled Fitzpatrick, loud enough for the Rangers around him to hear without radio assistance. “Thank you. Over.”
Then Fitzpatrick started barking orders in quick succession. He had Lieutenant Yang and First Sergeant McIlroy arrange the assault platoon along the central corridor. Everyone with a shield hooked a foot under a rail and found a nearby hand-hold so they could properly defend themselves, and use a weapon.
First Lieutenant Sweetwater suggested over the command frequency that half the platoon in the toroidal section could safely be sent over to bolster what everyone believed would become the front line. Fitzpatrick instantly agreed to her suggestion, and about ten minutes later Lieutenant Ghandi arrived on the scene with twenty-nine Rangers. That increased the strength of the frontline force to ninety-six Rangers, including officers and non-commissioned officers.
Fitzpatrick positioned archers and a blaster rifle at the very end of the corridor. He left Lieutenant Ghandi in charge there. Lieutenant Yang and Lieutenant Clayton positioned themselves at the midpoint of the corridor, on opposite sides.
Captain Fitzpatrick and First Sergeant McIlroy then went forward, and took station next to each other about ten metres from the bulkhead.
And then everyone waited.
They all had their own thoughts, and their own way to ready themselves. They were all a bit scared, but no one was incapacitated by their fear. They had been well-selected, and they were all very fit and very well trained.
They only had to wait about twenty more minutes.
Commander Yamato yelled over the command frequency, “Captain, they have just broken through our extra password firewall! That bulkhead door is about to open! Over.”
Captain Fitzpatrick switched to the operation frequency, and said crisply, “Get ready everyone. The bulkhead door is about to open. Brace yourselves for an attack. Over.”
Fitzpatrick and McIlroy heard a hiss of air, and then the bulkhead door quickly slid fully open. Immediately, one Warrior after another propelled themselves through the door and then on down the long central corridor. It was pitch black behind the door opening. Each Warrior had a spear and a round shield. They were all wearing body armour, and helmets with face guards, and a bright, forward-directed head lamp. They flew right by Fitzpatrick and McIlroy, apparently without noticing them.
Between passing Warriors, Fitzpatrick yelled, “Keep a head count of these bastards, First Sergeant!”
McIlroy yelled back, “I’m on it, Captain! Sixteen so far!”
The once orderly scene in the central corridor became chaotic bedlam. The ‘floating’ Warriors would fend off blows with their shields until they could get a foot or a limb hooked into some place secure. Then they would engage in hand-to-hand combat. They were massive creatures, and obviously very fit, muscular and well trained.
But the Rangers were largely holding their own. It seemed that the Warriors were surprised by what they had encountered in the corridor. They clearly were not working to a coherent plan. Each Warrior was working independently. In contrast, the Rangers were forming up into clusters to form shield walls.
Four Warriors propelled themselves as a group to pass right down the centre of the corridor. They clearly had no intention of stopping to engage in a skirmish. They were each struck with a few arrows as they approached the far end of the corridor. That only seemed to infuriate them more.
They immediately killed three Rangers with their spears. Then they seemed to realize Lieutenant Ghandi was in charge, so they focused all of their attention on him. Corporal Simons and Private Romano formed a shield wall in front of Ghandi. They worked well together, and used their stabbing swords effectively. Coordinated timing was everything.
They remembered their training: ‘Defend yourself and your neighbours with your shield, look for opportunities to hack at a spear, or better yet, to poke at a limb or a face.’
They found that the body armour the Warriors were wearing stopped or deflected most of their blows. But there were chinks in their armour where some flexibility was needed, such as around the wrist, elbow, shoulder, knee, neck and waist region. The Warrior helmet face plates also offered a small opening from directly in front.
Private Fazlutdinov worked low behind his buddies Simons and Romano. He stabbed effectively with his Taser spear at exposed ankles and knees. After a few minutes, the four Warriors stopped hitting back. They were full of arrows now, and bleeding from many wounds. The orange
blood of the stricken Warriors, and the red blood of wounded Rangers, was floating everywhere in tiny, spherical globules.
Romano was unconscious and bleeding profusely from a grisly spear-thrust wound near his waist.
Lieutenant Ghandi put his blaster pistol to the neck of each of the four wounded Warriors to finish them off. The focused, particle-beam blast instantly severed their heads.
Ghandi then looked down the long, central corridor to see what was happening. Similar hellish battles were still ongoing everywhere.
McIlroy yelled, “That’s fifty altogether, Captain! None have come through for over five minutes now.”
The non-commissioned Rangers were all communicating verbally with shouts, which left both the operation and command frequencies wide-open for the use of the officers.
Fitzpatrick was extremely proud of the discipline and fortitude that all members of his Company were demonstrating. He yelled into his headset over the operation frequency, “Lieutenant Clayton, how are we doing up there? Over.”
There was no reply, so Fitzpatrick yelled, “Lieutenant Yang, how are we doing up your way? Over.”
There was a short pause, then Fitzpatrick heard between gasps and grunts, “This is Yang. Clayton is gone. Sorry, Sir.
“We are… we are holding our own… mostly. Our small shield walls are working. These bastards are fierce and very strong! They just want to kill us… don’t seem to have… to have… ugh… any other goal in mind. There are ten plus Rangers wounded or killed in the middle section. But we might be starting… we’re starting to get the upper hand. Over.”
“Right!” replied Fitzpatrick loudly. “Keep at it, hard! Lieutenant Ghandi, report!”
“It’s quiet here just now, Captain,” replied Ghandi with amazing calm. “We fended off one very determined attack. Four Warriors were clearly trying to get past us to get to the bridge through the open spoke hatch. We put them all away. But Private Romano just died. He fought bravely…” He trailed off with a gasp. Then he said feebly, “Over.”