Gunboat

by James Evans

  “Aye, sir,” said Jackson, punching the control that would summon the rest of the bridge crew.

  Cohen tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair as various crew members floated onto the bridge and took their positions. Ms Martin arrived last, apologising for the delay.

  “Let’s just get things moving, shall we?” said Cohen. “Mr Jackson, what have you found for us?”

  “Difficult to say for sure, sir. Most of the sensors are still out, and even the ones that are working aren’t backed by fully operational processor arrays, so resolution is low.”

  “Yes, understood, but given the data we have, what do we know?”

  The bridge door slid open one more time and White floated in, pulling himself quickly into his chair. Cohen nodded at him, then turned back to Jackson.

  “I think there’s a large asteroid, more of a dwarf planet, really. Our drift has actually taken us very close, and it’s actually heading our way, no more than a hundred thousand kilometres ahead, sir,” said Jackson. He flicked at his controls and pushed a low-res image to the main display. Then the image pulled back to show the route that would take Ascendant to the asteroid.

  “Thank you, Mr Jackson. Ms Martin, if you’re quite ready, let’s start things gently with one per cent engine.”

  “Aye, sir,” said Martin. “Manoeuvring thrusters, short bursts, then an initial sixty-second burn at one per cent.”

  Manoeuvres complete, Ms Martin triggered the main engine. For a few brief seconds there was a gentle push of acceleration, then it stopped. Martin frowned at the controls and tried to send the command again. Then an angry message flashed up on the main monitor.

 

  Mantle, working on the issues, Cohen supposed. The bridge crew could do nothing but watch the asteroid approach and wait for Mantle to work her magic. A few minutes later she sent another message.

 

  Martin triggered the engine again and this time it fired correctly, delivering a continuous gentle acceleration. She recalculated the thrust operations required to take Ascendant to the asteroid and laid in a new course.

  “Two per cent burn for twenty seconds,” she announced as punched the engine control again.

  Again the engine fired, but again it failed. No message from Mantle this time, just an expectant pause. Eventually, an ‘Engine Ready’ status message flashed onto the main screens. Martin tried again and was rewarded with another gentle burn. She shook her head. This was going to take a while.

  But it took less time than anyone thought. The engine lost thrust a few more times, but they were able to reach a steady three per cent, which took them sedately towards their target. And the asteroid, which Jackson titled Ceres II in honour of its counterpart in the Sol system, was moving towards them at a good rate, bearing down on Ascendant as the ship pushed through the belt. Martin and Jackson worked to move Ascendant into position, manoeuvring to match the asteroid’s velocity and bring them safely to a halt.

  “It’s the rotation that’s tricky, sir,” said Martin after another round of manoeuvres. “The sensor degradation means we can’t be sure exactly where the asteroid is or how quickly it’s spinning, which makes landing risky.”

  But it couldn’t be avoided, and Cohen ordered the final approach. Jackson and Martin worked in near silence, battling the vast mass of Ascendant and forcing it to obey their commands and align with Ceres II.

  “Corn is asking if she should put Palmerston alongside, just in case something goes wrong,” said White. Cohen looked at his XO in annoyance. He didn’t much like the implications of Corn’s request, but he couldn’t fault her logic.

  And I should have considered it sooner, he thought, annoyed that Corn had had to suggest it. He nodded agreement to White and the XO made the arrangements with Corn.

  “Palmerston will be out in about three minutes,” reported White. “Flight status is unproven, and she’ll be back for further repairs once we’re safely down.” Cohen grunted and went back to watching the main display.

  At some point, the door to the bridge opened and Warden floated in. Cohen glanced his way, annoyed at the distraction, then snapped back to stare at the Marine when he realised he was wearing full power armour.

  “That’s not a big vote of confidence, Captain,” said Cohen as Warden flipped himself around to sit in one of the empty seats. “Do you really have so little faith in our abilities?”

  “Not at all, sir,” said Warden, setting his helmet on his legs while he strapped himself into the chair. “But this isn’t the easiest of manoeuvres, even with everything in good working order, and Ascendant isn’t really in the best of shape.” He grinned as Cohen glared at him. “Just being cautious, sir.”

  “Four minutes,” said Martin, her voice taught but calm. “Firing thrusters again. Main engine burn in thirty seconds to match Ceres II’s velocity.”

  The engine fired again, this time with the main engines facing towards Ceres II as the ship fought to change direction and catch the asteroid before it passed them by completely.

  Warden watched the screens with no small amount of interest, but the low-resolution sensors and degraded processors meant that the crew were flying almost blind. He shifted uneasily in his seat and quietly fitted his helmet, just in case.

  “Forty seconds to landing,” said Martin, hands flying across the controls as Jackson adjusted the trajectory and fed new information to the helm. “It’s going to be tight,” she warned. “Firing main engine and manoeuvring thrusters for last adjustment, hopefully.”

  The engines fired, and the crew watched as Ceres II span slowly towards Ascendant.

  Cohen leant forward, barely daring to breathe as he watched the final approach. They were going to come down close to the forward edge of the enormous rock, where it looked like it might be fairly flat.

  Then the main engines failed.

  “Oh, shit,” said Martin quietly as she flicked at the unresponsive controls. She turned to look at Cohen, her fear obvious. “Sorry, sir.”

  Then Ceres II struck Ascendant from below, and there was a terrible grinding of metal as the ship crashed and bounced across the face of the asteroid.

  Everything went dark.

  7

  “Mantle,” Cohen practically screamed into the comms channel. “Damage report!”

  There was a crackle from the speaker then a whoosh of gas.

  “Lots of damage,” yelled Mantle. More gas – fire extinguishers – then a lot of swearing and shouting.

  There was a whining alarm from engineering, then Mantle shouted something in the background. A moment later there was a crunch, then a bang, and the alarm abruptly stopped.

  Cohen waited impatiently while the bridge crew, who seemed remarkably intact, reviewed Ascendant’s status. Sensors had registered damage across the ship but most of the decks were still pressurised.

  “It’s bad, sir,” coughed Mantle, “almost as bad as the damage we took during the battle. We’re back to square one in some areas. Three weeks of repairs, if things go well? Four if they don’t. The damage on the port side will be worse, and it’s hard to be sure until we complete a proper inspection. There could be breaches that are sealed against the surface.”

  Her estimate seemed like guesswork to Cohen, but he couldn’t expect more right now. Given enough time, crew and fabricators, there was a chance of getting operational again.

  What they couldn’t deal with was loss of atmosphere and a long-term reduction in hull integrity. Each time the hull was compromised, the ship became a little less safe and a bit more complicated to repair. Unless you were about to face a meltdown, patching hull breaches was always the priority, and for that to be done efficiently you needed operational hull and room pressure sensors. Ensuring they had comprehensive service from these sensors had been one of Mantle’s top priorities.

  “Atmospheric pressure looks good, sir. Is the bridge secure?”

  “Yes, no obvious leaks.”<
br />
  “Good. We need to get everyone into suits and start patching the breaches.”

  “Roger that. We have pressure suits here, so I can spare you a few people to come and help. It’s not as if the ship is going anywhere for a while.”

  “Tell them to take care, sir. This rock has gravity, but only just. My rough calculation is you could jump over thirty-five times higher than normal on this dwarf planet, so if people go storming about the ship, we’ll have a lot of concussions. They should treat it more like zero-G. Slow but steady.”

  “Noted, Mantle,” said Cohen. “Captain Warden, it would be greatly appreciated if you and your Marines could assist with sealing our breeches.” It had been mildly irritating when the Marine had opted to stand out the landing procedure in his power armour, but now that precaution was going to prove useful.

  “Absolutely, sir, we’ll be more than happy to assist you with your breeches. We’ll make a start immediately,” came the reply, with just a hint of amusement. “My team are all standing by in their suits. Just in case.” The Marine officer floated over to the door and left.

  “Right, Mr Wood. Let’s see if we can contact Palmerston,” said Cohen.

  “Already tried, sir, so I could tell them we’re still alive.”

  “So external comms are down?”

  “Afraid so, sir. I’ve begun diagnostics,” said Wood. “They’re running now, but the results might be unreliable, given all the damage.”

  “What can I do?” Cohen asked.

  “Maybe start the diagnostics on the internal communications systems?”

  “We’ve just used that system,” pointed out Cohen.

  “Yes, sir, but there were still problems even before we crashed – er, had that rough landing, sir. If we can find the problems, we’ll be able to identify new damage, which might help us direct engineering.”

  Cohen nodded. “You’ve got details of the working areas and problems from before the,” he chewed his lip for a moment before continuing, “the crash. It was a crash, plain and simple, so we should just call it that. All right?”

  Wood nodded.

  “Good. So you’ve got the data on which systems were working before Ceres II tried to mate with our hull?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then let’s get to it, Midshipman. We have a lot of work to do.”

  “Give me data, people! I need to know what’s happening,” Captain Corn barked.

  “Ascendant is down, Captain,” Midshipman Parks said.

  “Brilliant deduction, Parks. I meant something we don’t all know already,” Corn said with what she sincerely hoped was withering sarcasm. “Anyone else got any helpful insights? What’s their status? Casualties? Any massive holes in the ship? Are they alive down there? Come on, people, we need to create solutions to problems here, and for that we need to know what’s going on!”

  “Captain, Ascendant is beached on her port side, she’s got multiple hull breaches,” Midshipman Robinson said.

  “I’m not getting any responses, Captain. Not from the bridge, or the engineering section,” Midshipman Shepherd said, pulling his headphone back from his ear as he spoke.

  “Noted, comms,” Corn acknowledged.

  “They’re going to need to patch those breaches soon, Captain,” Midshipman Meeks said. “I’ve analysed the data on the atmospheric loss they’re experiencing based on the flow rate of escaping gas. Their breaches are severely compromising hull integrity. The impact has probably affected a lot of systems, and without the breaches being sealed, their work rate to identify and repair damaged components will be compromised. If there are any badly damaged systems that are unstable, they could become critical by the time they’ve finished fixing breaches.”

  “Well, okay then, let’s find some solutions people,” said Corn. “What can we do to help?”

  There was a long pause and some uncomfortable shuffling in chairs. Someone coughed.

  Corn looked around, but no one seemed to want to catch her eye.

  “Right. We need to do something to help them. What can we do to help them with those breaches?” she asked.

  “We have engineering suits, Captain. Could we run a skeleton crew on the bridge and get everyone else out there to help them?” Robinson suggested.

  “Captain, we can’t know what the situation is with them until we establish comms. If I go down to Ascendant, I could patch in a short-range transmitter so we can establish ship to ship comms,” Shepherd suggested.

  “How do we get down to Ascendant safely? Even if we can spare bridge crew.”

  “Can we use the grabbers? Stent and Yards could take anyone we can spare down to the asteroid, and then it’s just a short trip to Ascendant,” Robinson said, drawing a circle around a spot near the stricken ship’s hull on the viewscreen, and another around an airlock that would be accessible. “They can get access through that hatch. Shepherd could get access to the ship to set up her transmitter, and anyone else can either patch external breaches or get in to help inside the ship.”

  Acting Captain Sub Lieutenant Corn pushed an internal comms button on the armrest of her chair. “Stent and Yards, we need you on the bridge.”

  She turned back to the bridge crew. “Shepherd, go get your transmitter and suit up. Elson, if we need weapons now. We’re stuffed anyway, so get prepped for engineering duty. Parks, you too, we aren’t going to need a navigator for the time being. Meeks, I want to get your analysis of any breaches ready in a summarised format for the engineering team on Ascendant. Robinson, you and I will work out how close we can get to Ceres II without joining Ascendant. I want the grabbers to have a short journey.”

  Before she’d even finished, they were unbuckling their harnesses and getting on with their new assignments. Corn moved forward to sit at Parks’ navigation console next to Robinson’s helm console so they could plot a flight path that would strike the optimum balance between proximity to Ascendant and not getting hit by an enormous asteroid.

  Mr Stent and Mr Yards arrived on the bridge a few minutes later.

  “Captain. How can we help?” asked Stent, always matter-of-fact.

  Corn turned to face him. “Gentlemen, how do you fancy taking a field trip in the grabbers to Ceres II?” She pointed at the floor to ceiling viewscreen, where Ascendant looked to be in terrible shape, like an ancient shipwreck languishing at the bottom of a deep ocean. At least they didn’t have to worry about space sharks or drowning.

  “The weather looks good, Captain, and I have my travel sickness tablets. I’m up for it,” Able Rate Yards said.

  “Actually, I have a note from my mum, Captain. I’m to be excused highly dangerous space walks in power armour that’s several generations behind current standard,” Able Rate Stent added.

  “Well, unless you neglected to mention that your dear old mum is also an admiral, I think I’ll take my chances and tell you to get suited up, get in the grabbers and get Shepherd, Elson and Parks over to Ascendant. Shepherd needs to get inside and set up a transmitter so we have ship to ship comms. The rest of you are to assist with patching any breaches you can find. Understood?”

  “Aye, Captain,” they echoed, snapping smart salutes.

  “And, gentlemen, this is not the day for jokes. Ascendant is in trouble and we have no idea what state she or her crew are in. I want total decorum and professionalism today. And don’t crash my grabbers. Ceres II isn’t the type of small rock we pull in to launch in our rail cannon. It’s a dwarf planet, so make sure you adjust for gravity. If any of you crash because you didn’t, I promise you will never hear the end of it or see a head you won’t have to clean by hand.”

  Suitably chastened, they chorused another round of acknowledgement and exited the bridge with all possible haste.

  8

  “Right, so the plan is to right Ascendant using Palmerston’s asteroid grabbers, then patch the remaining hull breaches on the port side,” said Lieutenant Commander Cohen, looking at the officers assembled around his conference
table. “This is something that hasn’t been done before, as far as we can tell from the records. Because this will be a first, it might put too much strain on the structural integrity of Ascendant, which we’re still not entirely confident of. Does that about sum it up?”

  “Yes, sir, it does,” Mantle confirmed.

  “And yet, you don’t seem all that bothered, Sub Lieutenant Mantle. Why is that?”

  “She’s a good ship, sir. Well built. I’ll only be bothered if you’re expecting to get her on an even keel in less than six weeks.”

  There was a stunned and awkward silence to which Mantle seemed oblivious, interested only in her ship. Cohen noted that everyone else’s gaze had slid casually across the table, onto the floor and found a new home near the ceiling or checking the number of visible rivets on a wall panel. Not a man jack of them was looking at him.

  He took several deep breaths but still didn’t feel entirely calm.

  “What about Palmerston?” he asked. “Do we have any good news about that at least?”

  “Umm. Not really, sir. Palmerston is essentially spaceworthy, but we don’t have hyperspace capability at the moment,” Sub Lieutenant Corn said. “I’m sure it’ll be a lot easier once Captain Ruskin is redeployed to a new clone, sir.”

  Cohen shook his head. “I don’t need Ruskin, or anyone else who isn’t vital to maintaining and repairing HMS Ascendant and HMS Palmerston. Even if we had operational cloning bays, we can’t afford the food, water, atmosphere, cloning materials or energy expenditure for redeploying crew. An engineering expert might be one thing, but an officer whose skillset is leadership is a hindrance, not an asset, at the moment. You’re the acting captain of Palmerston, Corn, and you’re an engineer. That’s what I need. How long until your hyperdrive is operational?”

  Corn gulped. “I’m afraid I don’t have a timescale yet, sir. It depends on what components Ascendant can make available. Sub Lieutenant Mantle and I have assessed the damage with our teams, and Palmerston will be much easier to bring online because the damage isn’t so severe, at least to the complex systems which are more time-consuming to repair. Our hyperspace capability could be restored in a week.”