by JN Chaney
The bullets flew into the void, missing the torpedo. She tried again, but it was impossible enough to hit an actual ship under this kind of pressure, let alone a missile no bigger than a couple of meters.
Finally, as it drew closer, she landed a hit, tearing the bomb on its edge, sending it careening into the minefield. It drew close to one of the proximity mines before righting itself and resuming its run. The mine followed, closing in to the missile as both headed straight toward us.
Abby fired in a more focused spread, hitting the torpedo again, but this time with more accuracy. The missile was torn apart by the gunfire, exploding some distance from us as we began to ease into the slip tunnel, still facing the minefield.
The proximity mine continued in our direction, however, despite its target being annihilated. It seemed to want to keep going, and I didn’t have the means to stop it.
The bomb flew right past us, into the slip tunnel, disappearing into the green lightning storm, missing The Renegade Star by what must have been ten meters.
A transmission broke across my com, right as the rest of my ship entered the rift. A husky voice that I had grown far too familiar with spoke in a rather commanding tone, “Send everything you have! Follow that ship!”
The General must not have cared about privacy, since I was able to so easily pick it up on my com. Or maybe he simply didn’t care. Maybe he wanted me to hear it.
Either way, we were gone, the tunnel closing behind us. Or was it ahead of us, since we were moving backwards? It didn’t matter. The point was, we were finally moving.
“Adjusting movement to compensate for trajectory,” said Sigmond.
“Does this mean we’re in the clear?” asked Freddie.
“We’re never in the clear,” I said. “Haven’t you learned that yet?”
I let Sigmond make the necessary corrections, since they’d require more attention to detail than any human brain could give. Constant micro-corrections every millisecond. Don’t ask me.
“The Dawn might be immobilized, but those other two ships are going to follow us soon,” said Abigail. She began to reflexively clench her hands. “We need to get aboard Titan as soon as we exit this tunnel.”
I nodded. With a fully charged tritium core at her disposal, Athena no longer needed to stop to recharge. We could run forever, and probably faster than before. That was my hope, anyway. “We can’t contact Titan from here, so we’ll just have to wait and see once we’re out of this,” I explained. “In the meantime, Freddie, let’s you and me check on our other passenger. You know, make sure she’s still alive.”
“You mean Dressler?” he asked.
“Who else would I mean?” I pushed myself out of the chair. “Hopefully she hasn’t starved to death.”
Abigail touched my wrist as I stepped between our seats. “Are you actually going to let her go?”
I shrugged. “She hasn’t done us any wrong. The way I see it, she deserves what was promised. If we make it clear of here, I’ll give her the shuttle and she can hightail it to whatever she thinks freedom is.”
* * *
Freddie and I left the bridge and made our way straight to the Doc’s room. “Open it,” I said, standing before the door.
“Yes, sir,” said Sigmond, and the door slid open.
Dressler was sitting on the bed with her hands across her chest, like she hadn’t expected to see us. She jumped to her feet. “Y-You’re back!”
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Doc,” I said, stepping in.
“What’s going on out there? I’ve been trying to converse with Sigmond for the last thirty minutes, but he isn’t the most talkative A.I.,” said Dressler.
“That’s because he’s been busy focusing on the fight. I’m surprised he had enough time to talk to you at all,” I said.
“It would have been poor manners to ignore our guest,” said Sigmond. “I do apologize for my lack of attention, Doctor.”
Dressler seemed to break a smile before putting it away and narrowing her eyes at me. “Well, then, would you care to explain the situation, now that you’re here?”
“We took out a few dozen strike ships, killed the engines on The Galactic Dawn so they couldn’t follow us, and jumped into a new slip tunnel before the rest of the fleet could catch us. We’re on our way to meet with Titan right now,” I said, fanning my hand at her. “Simple day, simple way.”
She blinked. “You took on General Brigham’s carrier ship? Sigmond mentioned that he had arrived, but what you’re saying sounds…unlikely.”
“Believe what you want,” I said with a shrug. “Either way, it happened, and now he’s sitting on his own tail, trying to figure out how to catch us. Without a working slip engine, he’s going to have a rough go of it.”
Dressler’s mouth dropped. “Y-You’re being serious? If you attacked General Brigham, the entire Union fleet is going to come after you!” She darted her eyes to Fred. “Is he telling the truth?”
Freddie nodded. “The Captain used a strike ship from Titan and penetrated Brigham’s defenses. He nearly took the entire carrier out on his own.”
The doctor cocked her brow at me, and for a quick second it looked like a sign of respect. “I can’t believe it.”
“Affirmative,” said Sigmond. “If you are interested, I can replay the video feed from the encounter.”
The doctor seemed to consider the idea, but then dismissed it. “No, it doesn’t matter. We had a deal for that shuttle, didn’t we?”
I smirked. “Figures, you’d still want to leave, lady. But sure, you can have the shuttle,” I said, then nodded in the direction of the window. Green swirls moved past us, along the slip tunnel walls. “Once we’re out of slipspace.”
“How long?”
“Beats the hell outta me,” I said. “What do you say, Siggy?”
“Based on the tunnel’s current approximate length, I estimate another three hours of flight time before we arrive,” explained the A.I.
“See?” I said to the doctor. “Not that long and you’ll be a free citizen. You can fly back to the Union and tell them all about your evil captors.”
She nodded, slowly, like she was mulling over what I’d said.
I stared at her for a moment, waiting to see if she had any other questions. She didn’t, so I took a step back. I was about to say goodbye when Sigmond’s voice broke the silence. “Sir, if I might have your attention.” His voice was coming through my com, I quickly realized.
I touched my ear and turned away from the others. “What is it?”
“I’m detecting an energy spike in the tunnel ahead of us,” said Sigmond.
“I thought we couldn’t see any other ships,” I responded.
“That is still correct. However, while we are unable to detect movement, energy distortions are still occurring—”
“English, Siggy,” I interrupted.
“Yes, sir. In short, when an object interacts with the slip tunnel’s boundaries directly, it creates a vibration, which is detectable by our long-range sensors.”
“What’s wrong, Captain?” asked Dressler, who was standing a few steps behind me. I’d almost forgotten she and Freddie were there.
I held up my index finger. “Hold on, Doc,” I said, then touched my ear. “Siggy, what’s the most likely cause?”
“Based on the size of the vibrations along the tunnel walls, I would estimate that a reaction has occurred,” said Sigmond. “I believe the source to be the proximity mine that we witnessed entering the tunnel.”
“How bad is it?” I asked.
Both Dressler and Freddie drew closer at the sound of the question. I could almost feel their tension clouding around me. It made me feel claustrophobic, so I threw my hand out to tell them to give me some space.
“The actual damage is unknown,” explained Sigmond. “However, given the magnitude of the explosive, it is possible that the tunnel has taken on severe damage.”
My eyes went wide with the possible repercussions of wh
at I had just heard. “Shit,” I muttered, turning to finally address the other two in the room.
“Don’t tell me,” said Freddie, swallowing the lump in his throat. “We’re not in the clear, are we?”
“Not even close,” I answered.
* * *
The slipspace rupture was worse than I thought.
The shockwave caused by the proximity mine explosion hit us a few minutes after Siggy told us about it, nearly knocking us all on our asses.
I held myself up on the wall, while Dressler collapsed back into the bed. Freddie, meanwhile, stayed on his feet, using the bedpost as leverage.
“Abigail to Jace!” screamed a voice in my ear. “I need you on the bridge!”
I tried to take a step towards the door, but nearly dropped. “Not happening! I can’t move!”
“Siggy says the mine blew up,” said Abby.
“Probably broke the tunnel,” I shouted. “Try to compensate!”
“Compensation is futile,” said Sigmond. “Please, brace for impact.”
Dressler, Freddie, and I exchanged a mutual horrified look of uncertainty. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I said in a tone that suggested we were royally fucked.
Before either could answer, The Star shook even harder, like it had been saving the bulk of its fury up, only to let it all come crashing out. Freddie finally hit the floor, slamming his face into the carpet, while Dressler tossed in the bed. I stayed on my knees, using the wall and floor as leverage. It wasn’t enough, however, and I finally went flying.
I slammed into Freddie, hitting him in the nose with my knee (poor guy). He screamed, and I was pretty sure I saw blood, but I couldn’t worry about that right now. There was a decent chance we were all about to die.
“Entering slipspace rupture,” said Sigmond, his voice as steady as ever. Sometimes I really hated how calm he could be.
The ship continued to shake, throwing both Freddie and me around the floor and into the wall, back where I started.
For a second, I thought the ship might tear itself apart from the inside, but the turbulence stopped before I could express it, and we came flying out of the tunnel in a few short seconds.
With a steady floor beneath me, I eased myself back on my feet, although I still felt like I was half-drunk and disoriented.
I shook it off and, without another word, staggered my way out of the room and toward the bridge. It was time to figure out exactly where the fuck we were.
For better or worse.
* * *
I entered the cockpit to find Abigail looking like she was desperate for a skull to bash. I could sense the frustration, thick as smog. “What’s our status?” I asked.
“What do you think?” she balked, pulling up a holo of the star system we’d just entered. “We’re stranded in the middle of nowhere.”
“Nowhere?” I asked, looking over the seven planets and three asteroid belts. “Siggy, where are we?”
“Unknown, sir,” said the A.I.
“What do you mean, ‘unknown’?” I asked.
“Star layout matches no previous model, nor can I extrapolate our position.”
I heard movement behind me, but I didn’t have to look to know who it was. “How bad is it?” asked Freddie, standing beside the door.
Dressler was with him, but she didn’t say anything.
“Bad,” I muttered. “We’re in unknown space, and since we entered that tunnel without knowing the destination, it’s hard to tell exactly where we are. We could have been dropped off literally anywhere, in any direction.”
“Can’t Sigmond read the star chart?” asked Fred.
“That only works if the stars match what we have in the database,” I said.
“Correct,” said Sigmond. “The layout before us is foreign. No records of it exist, which implies this is a region outside of known space.”
“Outside?” asked Dressler, who had finally chosen to speak up. “Are you saying we’ve moved beyond civilized Union space?”
“More than that,” I said, nodding at the nearby yellow star at the center of this system. “If there’s no record, that means no one has ever come this far. We’re not in the Deadlands, the Sarkonian Empire, or Union space.”
“But we were only in the tunnel for fifteen minutes,” said Freddie.
“Tunnels are funny like that,” I said. “Real space distance doesn’t matter. Only the slipspace inside matters, and no two tunnels are the same. That one was brand new, thanks to Titan, so there’s no knowing how far it actually went. Who the hell knows where we ended up?”
“That’s not very encouraging,” muttered Fred.
“Can we get back inside the tunnel?” asked Abigail.
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” said Sigmond. “According to sensors, there is no longer a tunnel to return back to.”
We all looked at each other. “Siggy, what do you mean there’s no longer a tunnel?” I asked.
“I do not know,” admitted the A.I. “Sensors are no longer showing an entry point for the slip tunnel, and I lack the necessary data to make a determined conclusion.”
Abigail leaned forward and slammed her palm on the dash. “Theorize!”
“It is possible that the tunnel resealed itself moments after the mine detonated,” said Siggy. “Slipspace tunnels have broken before, but they do not always remain so. Additionally, even if I could detect the tunnel entrance, I’m sorry to say that we would not be able to use it. The damage from the turbulence has put too much strain on our engines. Not only is the slipspace engine currently disabled, but so are long-range thrusters.”
“Are you saying we couldn’t open a tunnel even if we had one in front of us?” asked Abigail.
“Indeed, Ms. Pryar,” confirmed the A.I.
“Great,” said Abigail, tossing up her hands. “Out of one mess and into another.”
I had to admit, Abigail was right. We’d escaped Brigham’s attack by the skin of our teeth, only to wind up in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by unknown stars. Without a reference point, there was no way we’d be able to chart the right course, even if we could get our engines back online.
“Should we wait here for Titan?” asked Freddie. He was staring at me with puppy dog eyes, desperate for a solution.
I waited a second before answering, weighing what few options I had. “Siggy, how are your sensors?” I finally asked.
“Working,” he said.
“Scan the system and look for anything that might be useful,” I said.
“Already processing, sir,” said Sigmond.
“Any signs of other slip tunnels?” I asked.
“None within three-star systems,” answered Sigmond. “I apologize, sir.”
Abigail and I looked at each other. “What now?” she asked, all the frustration in her voice finally dissipated. If I didn’t know any better, I might have called it defeat.
“We have no choice,” I said, shaking my head. “We’ll have to wait here for Titan to come find us.”
“You think Athena even knows where to look?” asked Freddie.
“We’d better hope she does,” I muttered, glancing at the holo display of the star system. “As bad as it was back there with Brigham, the last thing you want is to be stranded and lost.”
“You talk about it like you’ve done it before,” said Dressler.
I nodded. “Lady, you don’t know the half of it.”
Epilogue
I waited for the scans to come in, while Freddie, Dressler, and Abigail went to check on the slipspace engine. Dressler was a trained scientist, so I figured if anyone on this ship could get things moving again, it was her. I just didn’t trust her enough to let her go alone.
“Sir, I believe I’ve found something,” said Sigmond.
“Put it on the holo,” I muttered.
A readout appeared with a full list of planets and moons in the system. Most were lifeless or too inhospitable to bother with, except for a class-5 world
, resting in the comfort zone around the star.
Class-5 meant that it had a breathable atmosphere, probably contained carbon-based life, and had a fair chance of having edible food, but it wasn’t ideal.
“What am I looking at, Siggy? You know a class-5 isn’t worth landing on,” I said, leaning back in my seat. “We’d be fools to try.”
“Of course, sir,” said the A.I. “However, the planet itself is not what interests me.”
I cocked my brow. “Then, why are you showing it to me?”
“I am detecting a faint transmission, sir,” said Sigmond.
“A transmission?” I asked, perking up. “Is it Union?”
“I don’t believe so,” said Siggy. “The signature is unknown, and it is too distorted to fully uncover, but I believe it is a request for help.”
“Where’s it coming from?” I asked.
The holo zoomed in on the planet, showing a landscape covered in ice, nearly barren. “Here,” said Sigmond, right as a red dot appeared on the globe. “Somewhere beneath the ice. Please, sir, one moment. I am attempting to recover the message.”
I stared at the holo, narrowing my eyes. How could there be a message in a place like this, so far from an existing slip tunnel?
“The message seems to be in another language,” continued Sigmond.
“Which language?” I asked.
The message erupted over the speaker, playing in a broken, static-filled voice. It was a woman, by the sound of it.
“Sir, I believe this is a dialect of a language in my database,” said Sigmond. “The same language that Titan’s original colonists used, although this one is very far removed, with many changes.”
“Titan?” I asked, taken aback by what I was hearing. How could this person be using the same language as the people on Titan from over two thousand years ago? Could some of the colonists have come here, while the other survivors went off in other directions? That was possible, I supposed, but it didn’t explain the lack of slip tunnels nearby or why exactly anyone would land on a planet like this one. There were countless habitable worlds out there that were better than this.
