My gaze shifted to the left suddenly as I saw a tall pile of metal crates shoved up against the wall just underneath the metal gangway.
I grabbed the railing and made a quick calculation.
My heart was beating hard in my chest, that tingling feeling still itching its way up my arms and deep into my elbows.
Call it intuition, but I had the feeling I had to act quickly.
Who knew what kind of damage someone had done to life-support.
The Chief Engineer seemed to think it was fixable. Or maybe she didn’t. Maybe she was doing a valiant job of hiding the true severity of the situation. She’d called the Captain, after all.
Bottom line, I had to be quick.
There was no time to run all the way down the gangway, wait for a lift, or take the ladder.
Instead I ran right at the metal railing, vaulted over it, and sailed down to the box below.
The crates were sturdy, probably filled with weapons. It would take more than my slight form jumping on top of them to dislodge them.
Now all I had to do was make my way down the zigzag form, like I was stepping down a pyramid.
Maybe a few people stopped to stare at me from the hangar bay floor. Maybe that didn’t matter.
Maybe the only thing that mattered was saving this ship.
…
Lieutenant Commander Nathan Shepherd
I wasn’t a lieutenant commander anymore. A fact that kept slipping from my mind as J’axal and I passed several ensigns. No one saluted. Because they didn’t have to anymore.
I had about as much authority as a kid, and about as much power to back it up. Unlike J’axal, I wasn’t in any fancy armor, and I sure as hell didn’t have a spinning electro blade. I had nothing but my hands. If I were lucky, the resistance may arm me at some point. Or maybe they wouldn’t. They could just as easily toss me away.
Still, I was determined to carry out the Captain’s orders, even if she wasn’t my commander anymore.
J’axal strode ahead, and I matched pace, despite the fact I could tell his swift movements were assisted by his armor.
It didn’t take long to reach the hangar bay.
For just a few seconds I watched J’axal’s head tilt up further and further as he locked his gaze on the massive belly of the Ra’xon. He clearly wasn’t Star Forces; he would likely never have seen a ship as big as this.
Was he starting to realize he was out of his depth? That he had no idea how to plan an evacuation should the Ra’xon go critical?
“We won’t get anything done standing here and staring at it,” I snapped.
He turned his head towards me, then saw something and jerked his gaze up and to the left.
I followed.
I saw somebody leap right over the railing that connected the Ra’xon to the exit gangway, and land on one of the numerous crates stacked up around the edges of the hangar bay.
The person, whoever the hell it was, proceeded to make their way quickly down the piled boxes until they reached the ground and ran towards us.
That’s when I realized it was Jenks.
Arms pumping at her sides, cheeks flushed with action, hair swishing around her ears, she barely glanced at me as she shot past.
She came to a skidding stop near what looked like an environmental control station. There were several engineers from the Ra’xon and the resistance standing around. She handed one something, and talked to them briefly, before being ordered away to some other task.
J’axal snorted. “She does know we have lifts, right? Are all Star Forces like that?”
I didn’t answer. Instead I found my lip twitching high into my cheek.
Nope. All Star Forces were not like that. Jenks seemed to be in a category of her own.
Just before I could wonder whether she was superhuman, I watched her double over for a second, clasping a hand against her chest, clearly battling through a stitch. Yep. That would happen if you decided to forgo a lift for a goddamn pyramid of crates.
I had to forcefully tug my attention off her and fix it back on J’axal. “We have to start shifting all non-essential personnel from this area.”
“I’m not the one staring at her, buddy,” J’axal snapped.
“Excuse me?” I twisted my head around to glare at him.
J’axal held my gaze. “You’re wasting time.”
“Sure I am,” I snapped sarcastically as I brushed past him. I located a group of ensigns who appeared to be removing cargo from the Ra’xon. I gave them orders immediately, grabbing a lieutenant I knew who was handy in engineering, and ordering her to start working on containment shields should the Ra’xon blow. They wouldn’t be enough to hold the destructive power of that ship, but at least they’d contain some of the damage.
J’axal was useless. As predicted. He had no relevant skills. He stood there, arms crossed, occasionally making sarcastic comments, but thankfully smart enough to know not to intervene.
As every minute passed, I found my heart beating faster and faster. There was no ostensible threat, and considering I wasn’t privy to what the Chief Engineer was doing in life-support, for all I knew, she could have fixed everything. Something told me that this wasn’t over, though.
We’d barely arrived, and we were already in a race for our lives.
…
Ensign Jenks
I did what I was told. As quickly and efficiently as I could.
There was a real sense of mounting fear amongst the engineers. I didn’t have to ask them what was going on – I could hear it in their voices, and see it in the stressed sharp movements of their bodies.
I was right, wasn’t I? Whatever had been done to life-support, it wasn’t going to be easy to fix. And unless we were lucky, it was gonna take out the ship and half the planet.
A few times, between tasks, I found myself standing there and staring up at the great belly of the Ra’xon.
If it blew, could I do anything about it?
Unquestionably, undoubtedly I had immense power. That was what I was made for. To sail above battles and conduct armies. I wasn’t an ordinary telekinetic warrior. The enforcement officer who’d asked what I was had asked the most pertinent question of all. A complete battle system designed to win wars decisively and quickly.
But did that mean I had the raw energy necessary to stop the Ra’xon if she blew?
… I made a desperate calculation in my head, and realized I had no hope of stopping the Ra’xon from exploding.
I could minimize the damage, maybe. I could save myself, quite probably. But everybody else? Who knew?
… Would I do it, though?
Try to save everybody else? Try to contain the power of the Ra’xon’s explosion?
If I used every scrap of energy I had, maybe I could reduce the damage to this hangar bay alone rather than half the planet. But it would take me everything. And it would leave me entirely exposed. It would take me weeks to recover, and for those weeks I would be in the resistance’s clutches. They would know what I was, and they would….
I shivered as a hand seemed to snake out from nowhere and clasp my shoulder.
As I jerked around, expecting attack, I realized it was Shepherd.
He pressed his lips together in a commiserating frown. “You’ve done enough, Jenks. We’re evacuating this area.”
“No,” I said simply. “There’s more I can do. I’m happy to stay.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.
He looked as if he wanted to argue with me, so instead of giving him the chance, I turned quickly and ran back over to the environmental control station.
If I’d thought the tension in the air was unbearable before, I was wrong. Now it seemed to sit there like guns pointing at everybody’s heads.
As I passed several engineers, hunched over control stations, fingers sweaty and shaking as they manipulated the controls, I found my head jerking up to the belly of the Ra’xon.
I knew my answer, didn’t I?
&n
bsp; There was only one thing I could do.
If the Ra’xon blew, I would try to stop it. No matter the costs.
I would never do to others what the Star Forces had done to me. Life was valuable, and should not be sacrificed simply for the security of the few.
I brought my hands up for a brief moment and stared at them, suddenly exquisitely aware of the implants lodged in my elbows. With a thought, with a mere thought, I could activate them and send myself floating high into the air, yellow energy cascading off my body like lightning from a storm.
“You, Jenks,” a Lieutenant said, “the Chief wants you to get to the secondary buffer control.”
A resistance member by the Lieutenant’s side pointed up to a set of controls lodged half way up the wall. “We usually have scaffolding leading to them, but we had to rearrange it to get you guys off the Ra’xon. We didn’t have any exit platforms tall enough.”
“Stop explaining the situation to her,” the Lieutenant snapped, “do something about it. There’s a small magnetic set of scaffolding over on that side of the hangar bay,” the Lieutenant cut his hand towards the left, “grab whoever you need to help you set it up.”
“Wouldn’t a sky bridge be quicker?” I questioned automatically.
“Quicker, but guaranteed to kill us all. We can’t run the risk of any electromagnetic disturbance in this area.”
It was that bad?
“Go,” the Lieutenant snapped.
I pivoted on my foot and headed in the direction the Lieutenant had pointed.
He said grab anyone in my way to help me, and the only two people I could see were Shepherd and the surly guy with him.
“Come with me,” I snapped as I ran past them.
When they hesitated, I spun on my foot, hair flaring around my face. “I said, come with me.”
Both men pushed off.
“Most women introduce themselves first,” the man with Shepherd said in a smooth voice.
I ignored him. “We need to set up magnetic scaffolding to access the secondary buffer controls. For some reason they’re halfway up the side of the wall.”
“Got it,” Shepherd said without missing a beat. He ran ahead of us both, reaching the set of scaffolding.
I would have matched pace with him, if I could.
I was starting to feel a few aches and pains. I’d been rushing around non-stop for an hour. A feat I could have easily managed if I’d just topped up on compound 78.
Though I wanted to ignore it, there was the slightest tremble in my left hand.
I reached the scaffolding, sucking in a much needed breath.
“You must be exhausted,” Shepherd said. “You’ve run around this entire hangar almost 100 times. I’ve watched you.”
I didn’t know what it meant that he’d apparently been watching me so intently, but I didn’t have the time to question him. “I’ve never set up magnetic scaffolding,” I admitted, “you concentrate on programming it, and I’ll assemble the base platforms.”
“Right.” Shepherd plunged down to one knee, shoved his arm amongst the pile of scaffolding, and pulled out a hardened handheld com panel. “This junk is in a mess. You’d think the resistance would have time to take better care of their equipment,” he mumbled.
“We don’t have time to look after equipment, Lieutenant Commander,” the man with him said through clenched teeth, “we’re kind of preoccupied with saving the galaxy.”
“You there,” I snapped at the man, “stop standing around and snarking, and give me a hand.” I pointed to the end of the scaffolding I was trying to haul onto a platform.
I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw Shepherd smirk at that.
“My name is J’axal, by the way,” the man said.
I didn’t react. “We’ll move it onto that platform,” I pointed to the remaining set of scaffolding. “How’s the programming going?”
“Done,” Shepherd said.
J’axal, though he seemed irritating, was strong, especially in that armor of his, and helped me shift the scaffolding into place.
Then we both stood back. Without needing to be told, Shepherd activated the mechanical scaffolding.
The metal bars climbed off their platforms, hooking together and forming connections all of their own accord. A series of loud thumping clicks rang through the hangar bay, echoing off the far walls.
As soon as the primary outer scaffolding was in place, I started to climb.
I could have waited for the platform lift that was sunk into the middle to form, but I didn’t have time.
I hauled myself up the bars and started to climb them as fast as I could.
“Damn, doesn’t she ever use lifts?” I heard J’axal say.
“I’d say she doesn’t think she has time,” Shepherd commented. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him shift his gaze towards the Ra’xon, his brow compressing with fear. “And I fear she’s right.”
I climbed faster now. Ignoring whatever feeling of lightness built in my fingers as I threw myself at the scaffolding.
At first I’d enjoyed the feeling of running freely. Now it was taking its toll.
I had three weeks between doses of compound 78 if I looked after myself.
If, instead, I threw myself around a massive hangar bay without stop, that window would reduce.
I wasn’t about to have a fit anytime soon, but I knew the slight tingling in my limbs would only get worse.
I clenched my teeth together, feeling a rigid pressure descend sharply into my jaw as I finally reached the top of the scaffolding and pulled myself up.
I struggled for breath, leaning on one knee for a second, until I jerked my head up, hair slapping into my cheeks as I jolted forward.
I ran the short length of the scaffolding and finally reached the controls.
That’s when I realized they were housed behind a thick durable casing, probably there to protect them from the exhaust of incoming ships.
I swore. Then I brought a hand out, almost automatically, ready to spread my fingers and use my powers to whip the casing right off the wall.
I stopped myself, just in time.
If I did that, I’d be found out, and there was still a chance we could save the Ra’xon without me using my powers.
I turned sharply on my foot and threw myself at the railing. “I need a weapon,” I screamed down at Shepherd.
“What’s going on?” he snapped.
“There’s a durable casing over the controls. Looks like you need some kind of key to open it.”
He swore.
“I got this,” J’axal said as he threw himself at the scaffolding. The lift was in perfect order now, but instead of using it, he chose to climb the edge of the railing like I had. Except he was faster, and far nimbler. I’d been around the galaxy long enough to recognize that he was from the Harax Clan. It took him half the time it had taken me to clear the scaffolding.
He jumped up neatly by my side and gave me a brief nod, then brought the spinning electro blade from his back in a smooth move. He began to swing it towards the controls.
I grabbed his other arm and jerked him backwards. “What are you doing?” I snapped.
Fortunately the force of my move was enough to pull him off balance, and his blade struck the wall, the spinning tip spewing chunks of metal out in every direction. A few even scattered across my uniform, and sliced over my cheek, a fine splatter of blood arcing down my neck.
I didn’t lift a hand up to brush the blood away. Instead I stared at him with a blazing gaze. “You slice the casing off the wall like that, and you’ll compromise the controls.”
Without being asked, and without warning him what I was doing, I reached beside him, leaned down, and grabbed a blade from his thigh holster.
He could have stopped me. Or at least he could have tried.
He didn’t. Instead he angled his head down and watched me intently, gaze following every movement I made.
The blade was a far smaller spinning electro
dagger.
I carefully unsheathed it, letting the sheath clatter to the floor and bang off my boots. Then I approached the controls, latched a hand on the wall, and carefully edged the blade against the side of the paneling. With my tongue between my teeth, I made a delicate enough cut – which was hard with a blade as brutal as this – and managed to pry the casing back.
I slammed a hand on my communication PIP. “I’ve managed to access the secondary buffer controls,” I snapped.
I expected the Lieutenant to reply, but he didn’t. “Just in time,” I heard the Chief Engineer snap, “this is going to be a delicate process, Jenks…” she trailed off.
I stood there, waiting for her next orders.
They didn’t come.
A dense terrifying pressure settled in my stomach and started to climb my back. It forced me to shift backwards and turn my head slowly towards the Ra’xon.
It was about to blow, wasn’t it?
Fear must’ve exploded over my face, because J’axal turned to face the Ra’xon with me. “What the hell is going on?” he asked in a pitching voice.
I didn’t reply.
Instead I made a fist with my free hand.
I felt my implant, connected to it.
I waited.
Even if I dropped everything and ran to life-support, I wouldn’t be able to stop the Ra’xon from exploding with my power alone. And it was far better for me to be out here, even if it meant the Captain and the Chief Engineer would lose their lives.
Out here I would be able to create a vortex of power to contain the explosion.
In a blistering haze, I walked my mind through exactly what I would have to do.
“What the hell is going on in there?” I heard J’axal ask once more.
There was an explosion. It came from the Ra’xon. Blew out of one side of the hull, spewing plating against a shield that automatically blinked into place.
It wasn’t enough to take out the whole ship, but it made the floor shake like the most powerful of earthquakes.
The scaffolding we were on was clearly old and hadn’t been maintained correctly. At the first tremor, it disengaged from the wall, and shifted two meters back from it as it jittered along the shaking floor.
The Crucible- The Complete Series Page 18
