by Greg Mutton
‘Yes and an even bigger one on Condor. The water isn’t wasted… it’s continuously recycled. Most cabins have a bath as well as a shower… depends on crew preference… but as far as I’m concerned ion showers, while being much more cost effective, just don’t feel right.’ He was very forthright in his defence.
‘Hey, don’t get defensive, I think it’s great.’ Petra laughed, throwing up her hands before her face in mock defence. ‘It’s just I’ve never seen all this before. Most traders supply the bare minimum. It’s no wonder you can attract the best people; you treat them like family.’
‘Well to me, that’s what they are. Trading is a solitary business… trips can take years and I believe a few creature comforts make it more bearable. If others do it differently, that’s their business, but anyone who works with me deserves the same as I do.’
Petra moved to Aaron, reached up and kissed him. ‘No more talk, I’m dying to get in.’ She moved away and removed her clothes; Aaron stood back enjoying the view. She bent to check the water temperature and then turned to see Aaron standing naked just watching. “Enjoying the show?’ she asked. ‘Silly question… I can see you are,’ she teased as she gazed at his hardening penis. She came back to him, reached out and began to caress him.
‘Don’t mind him; he has a mind of his own. The rest of me is interested, just too bloody tired. Try again after a few hours’ sleep.’
Petra gave him a wicked look, dropped to her knees, ‘What if I don’t want to wait?’ She guided his penis into her mouth and Aaron’s groans told her he was enjoying her attention. Suddenly she stopped.’ You’re right… we both really need sleep.’
She stepped into the tub and reluctantly, Aaron climbed in after her. They reclined in the bubbling water allowing it to soothe away the tensions of the last few days. After a few minutes Petra moved over to Aaron.
‘Well, do you feel refreshed enough now?’
He reached to her, pulled her close and answered her with a kiss. Petra straddled him, slowly lowering herself onto him, engulfing him. They held each other tightly and made love slowly in the spa.
15
Tocmal was having difficulty with the command chair until he discovered the recline function.
With the chair laid back, and a couple of cushions he found in one of the cabins, he was able to fashion an acceptable imitation of a Reglaon seat. The entire transit was preprogramed into the nav system so now he was able to monitor the ship’s systems in relative comfort while the others had some welcome down time.
Mondrac hadn’t looked up from the screen for nearly three hours, so engrossed in his work that time had no meaning. Maybe it was time to divert his attention?
‘Mondrac,’ Tocmal asked tentatively, ‘would you like a coffee?’ No answer. He spoke again, this time louder ‘Mondrac, ‘would you like a coffee?’
This time an answer came. ‘Yes, please.’
Tocmal chuckled. ‘I would too but I actually don’t know how to make it. Can you assist?’
Mondrac looked up from the console and smiled. ‘You are correct, my friend. I need a break, thank you.’
Together they left the bridge and went back to the dining area. Mondrac busied himself making coffee, putting several spoons of sugar into Tocmal’s — he’d developed quite a taste for sweet, strong coffee. They sat in silence while they drank. When they finished, Tocmal took their mugs, put them in the sanitiser and followed Mondrac back to the bridge. With his work with the computer completed they now had a few possible locations for a second gate in the Twelfth Realm and, based on these assumptions, the possible location of others in the Tenth.
‘Why did you need to do that? Our ships will destroy what’s left of the portal in our realm.’
‘You may destroy that one, but what if there is a second one? Suppose there was an accident on the one we found? The explosion would solve the mystery of where all that energy came from. But I don’t think it is the only option. Zarof was far too arrogant, and Nefaris is far too cautious for that. No, Tocmal, I don’t think the threat is over yet. We need to find the portal in the Twelfth Realm and destroy it also.’ Mondrac’s voice was filled with conviction. Tocmal realised that for an Eldoran to propose such violent action the situation was dire.
Ten hours after they retired, Petra and Aaron returned to the bridge. Mondrac had left to rest and Tocmal was working on the computer, so absorbed he didn’t see them enter.
Aaron checked the clock on the main viewer. ‘Good morning Tocmal.’
Tocmal was startled by the figure at his side. ‘Yes, you are correct… good morning.’
‘Anything interesting?’
‘Yes, Mondrac suggested it. While we can all understand each other, what happens when we reach Earth? Are you going to translate for us? Not very practical, I think. Mondrac suggested I work with your computer; it does have a basic translation capability.’
This amused Aaron. Humans had made such a fuss about their universal translator and here was the first real alien they had encountered dismissing it saying, ‘Oh, it’s basic.’
Tocmal continued. ‘The parameters in your standard system are very narrow so I have modified the program to allow it to work more efficiently. All we need to do is transmit this new routine to any receiving station… another ship for example. If it is equipped with even the most basic of translation capability the new routine will automatically upgrade it. For all other situations, where I will be talking in person, I have a simple translator system that can be worn by each person; everyone will be able to communicate normally.’
Aaron studied the schematics on the console screen; the design was simple, elegant and easily fabricated.
‘Tocmal, when we reach our realm, I would like to send these to a facility where they can be manufactured. Hopefully when we reach Earth, there should be enough to supply those who need it. I would also like to send any details of your particular requirements; chair and bed design, for example.’
‘An excellent idea… while I have made do on your bridge, it is not the most comfortable arrangement.’ Tocmal worked his personal data pad and transferred the relevant files to Junior’s data bank. ‘There… all is now available. A-Bra-Ham, I have also placed all the technical detail from our engineers, the repairs to your ship, and all the data on the upgrade.
‘The resin is one of our most closely guarded secrets. It is one of our main tactical advantages, but we would be open to trading it with you. To assist in this our engineers have placed a quantity in your hold. It is not a great amount, but enough for a thorough evaluation. I have placed the application details in your data base. We ask that you use it wisely and then we can negotiate on trade.’
“I understand,’ replied Aaron. ‘Rest assured, we will evaluate it and then we can negotiate a mutually beneficial agreement.’
Tocmal stood and stretched, he too was feeling the strain. Aaron went with him to one of the rooms where they improvised a sleeping arrangement so he could rest comfortably; then returned to the bridge. As the door slid open he heard the chime of the computer indicating that an analysis program had just finished. Aaron went straight to the console, brought up the results but had no idea what they meant. Whatever Mondrac was working on, it would have to wait.
‘What time is it?’ Aaron asked Petra.
‘Zero nine hundred, Earth time. Why?’
‘I’m hungry. Care for some breakfast?’
‘Yes, but it’s my turn. You take over here, while I go and play in your kitchen.’ Petra stood and offered the command chair to Aaron.
Twenty minutes later, Petra returned with two plates and a pot of tea. On each plate was a sandwich with Poragan ham, egg and hollandaise dressing, on a lightly toasted bread roll. ‘I couldn’t believe it when I saw you had Poragan ham in you stasis larder; it’s so hard to come by. I used generous slices… I hope that’s ok?’
Aaron laughed. ‘Just the way I like it… thick. We have a contract with the major producer on Poraga… we transport
all their smallgoods.’ He took a bite and smiled, ‘Damn good… looks like we’ll have fun in the kitchen.’ He winked as he took another bite.
They finished their breakfast in silence. ‘We will reinsert in about twenty minutes,’ Aaron commented as she rose and left with the empty plates.
Petra returned just as the ship re-materialised back into the Eleventh Realm, changed course and proceeded on the new heading toward their last worm hole insertion point in this realm. Another three hours, then they would jump back to the Twelfth Realm. Six hours from now they should be in the Solar System, and close to Earth. Petra had just sat in the pilot seat when an alarm started to scream.
‘Proximity alarm… there is something ahead of us.’ She started to interrogate the system. ‘It’s a ship, just off line to port with a very low energy reading. Either it doesn’t want to be seen or it’s in trouble!’
‘Wake the others up… we may need their help,’ Aaron commanded as he resumed manual control. One golden rule he always obeyed: never leave a ship stranded. If he could assist he would. Petra complied as she brought the shields and weapons on line.
‘Shields at full strength… weapons at standby… remember, we only have half a dozen torpedos left,’ Petra reported as Mondrac and Tocmal hurried back onto the bridge.
‘A-Bra-Ham, do we have trouble?’ Tocmal asked.
‘I’m not sure… we seem to have a ship ahead… no power signature… no motion.’ Aaron had altered course and was now on an intercept trajectory. ‘Distance to target one hundred thousand kilometres.’ He continued to decelerate, ‘time to intercept… ten minutes.’
The time dragged by, the Bubble indicating they were closing on the mystery ship. It felt like an eternity as the distance slowly decreased. Mondrac manned the sensor console, watching for any tell-tale that might indicate some sort of treachery. Closer now — only 50,000 kilometres separated them.
‘Mondrac, can you give us a visual?’ Aaron asked.
The Eldoran worked the console and a hazy image appeared.
‘Not close enough… what’s the radiation reading?’
‘Nothing’s registering, just normal background for this sector.’ Mondrac continued his sensor probes. Junior edged closer, Petra keeping a solid target lock on the other vessel. At 20,000 kilometres, Aaron slowed Junior even more. Mondrac, as if reading his mind, spoke at once. ‘Nothing showing on long range scans. We seem to be alone… except for our friend. I still cannot determine any life signs.’
‘What do you mean by determine?’
‘I have been getting very faint, intermittent readings, human life signs. But the reading is not reliable. I will keep trying.’
Aaron urged Junior ahead, slowly closing the gap…10,000 kilometres… 5,000. The image on the screen cleared, the ship was now clearly defined. Petra started the recognition program, searching Junior’s data base for the identity of the ship.
Aaron decided to close and orbit the ship at the same time, giving them a full 360 degree view of the mystery vessel. As they passed the rear of the ship, its fate became evident. A huge hole had been blasted through what should have been the engineering section. It was all gone.
‘Mondrac, are you still getting power readings?’ Aaron called.
‘Yes, very low output and only in one section of the ship.’ He used his console and the view of the ship changed. They were still circling it, recording all they saw, but now the screen showed what the sensors were detecting. The design looked familiar to Aaron; a long ovoid shape, flatter on the underside and steeply domed on top, the square rear had been blasted away, exposing the entrails of the ship.
Two tubular protrusions either side of the hull were also heavily damaged, these would have housed the main reactors, generators and drive systems. Now they were just blasted wreckage. The view changed as Mondrac superimposed his power readings and life signs onto the screen. They could all clearly see the problem; just at the rear of the bridge section, there appeared to be a small power source and, more importantly, two life signs.
Mondrac spoke quietly. ‘Two very weak life signs… both Human. I have deduced that they are in some sort of life preserving area but their power is quickly depleting. A-Bra-Ham, they only have a matter of minutes of power left.’ As he spoke, the screen changed. Aaron now had “Junior” sitting above the derelict vessel, and only 75 kilometres away.
‘Now we know who they are,’ he said as he enhanced the insignia emblazoned across the front of the hull — the “skull and T” of Tragarian Raiders. ‘The mystery of the bodies back on Reglaos is solved, but we have a new one. How in fucking hell did these clowns get here?’ he said as he left the command chair.
‘Number one, you have the con. Mondrac, Tocmal… I’m going over there. I can’t just leave them to die, but I’ll need a Second… any volunteers?’
‘While Tocmal might be more appropriate, I don’t think you have any extra vehicular suits for him, which makes me the only option.’ Mondrac said, following Aaron as they left the bridge. Directly below the accommodation deck was a small docking bay. Inside, they quickly donned two suits made of a flexible Acrilan material. It not only protected them from the cold and radiation of space, it could also withstand quite a large number of impacts from debris, making it like a suit of flexible armour. They each selected a helmet, connected the small, life support module and were ready.
Aaron opened a cupboard, took out a belt with two blasters attached and buckled it on. He offered one to Mondrac, who declined. Aaron just shrugged, checked the charge of his weapons and re-holstered them. He moved toward the rear of the room, opened another door and beckoned Mondrac to follow him. While Junior was classed as a pleasure boat, Aaron had made sure the design was capable of holding one of the units now before them—a small shuttle, ten metres long and three wide and high. It had a standard gravitron drive, but no reactor, with all the power it needed stored in the two nacelles on its underside.
‘Range is limited, but it can hold up to six people. We should be able to get over there and back pretty quick,’ he said with pride. A section of the side of the pod moved away from the body and slid rearwards, leaving an entry port for them. Inside were seats for the pilot, co-pilot and four more for passengers. Aaron took the right hand seat and contacted Petra. ‘Number one, we are in the pod. The door is now closed and sealed; commence depressurising the chamber.’ They watched the indicator on the wall outside the pod; it changed from red to green. ‘Now open the doors please.’
They felt the machinery of the door opening beneath them; Aaron powered the pod’s systems as this happened. ‘OK Junior, pod ready, releasing clamps.’ He tapped an icon on the control panel and the little pod shuddered slightly as the docking clamps released. ‘Commence ejection procedure.’ As Aaron said this, a blast of compressed CO2 shot the small craft out of the docking bay. He started the drive, setting course directly to the other ship.
‘This is an interesting vessel A-Bra-Ham… what is its purpose?’
‘Originally, it was designed as a maintenance support pod,’ Aaron replied. ‘It can carry six, has a small one-man airlock at the rear and various grabs and implements to help with any repairs the crew needs to do. We manufacture them on Argos and sell them right across our galaxy. I just liked them, and this little guy is the most I can fit in Junior. One problem I hope we don’t regret; no weapons… just tools.’
He smiled as he concentrated on the ship; now only a few thousand metres ahead. Deftly he moved the pod to the front of the ship, looking for an entry point. ‘I think this is a Tellurian vessel; if so, we should be able to access the emergency hatch just to the right of the bridge.’ Aaron moved the ship closer. Having located the best place to enter, he accelerated towards it. ‘Junior, what’s the status of those two life signs?’
Not good, you need to hurry… one seems to be fading faster.
Aaron didn’t need any more convincing. He turned the pod through 180 degrees and lined the rear airlock up with the em
ergency hatch.
A-Bra-Ham, according to your computer, those two only have about three minutes left. Tocmal’s voice echoed in the pod.
‘Shit, this is going to be close.’ Aaron worked faster, lining the pod up. ‘They tell me these little pods are very tough… we’re about to find out. No time for a soft lock, we’re going in hard.’ To attach the pod to the hatch would normally take about five minutes; for a true soft lock, they only had three… total. Lock on, get to the survivors and revive them… just three minutes!
Captain, I’m transmitting a schematic of the ship to you. Petra called. Junior’s computer had confirmed the mystery ship’s identity and supplied the schematics for it. Mondrac received it and transferred it to a data pad. There was a loud BANG and the pod came to a stand-still. Aaron checked all the readings and leapt out of his seat.
‘Mondrac… in that cupboard… extra oxygen tanks… grab a couple,’ he called as he worked the airlock internal controls. ‘This can only take one at a time. I’ll go first… cycle time is only about ten seconds so we should be ok. I’ll let you know when I’m inside.’ The internal door opened and Aaron stepped through. He pressed the cycle control and the airlock tried to connect to the hatch controls… no luck. The hatch control wasn’t compatible.
Quickly, Aaron started the manual cycle, dumping the air in the lock back into the pod’s tanks. A tell-tale light changed from green to red, indicating that all the air had been transferred… the outer door would open. It slid across easily, exposing the hatch manual control. He opened the control box — manual override was still operational, he interrogated the system; there was no atmosphere in the ship. ‘Mondrac, on the rear panel beside the airlock door, there’s a control panel, can you see it?’
‘Yes, I see it.’
‘Good, open it. Make sure your helmet is closed and your oxygen is feeding.’