I reported my find to the XO. “Any sign of damage?” He asked.
I drifted down towards the deck. “Nothing except bent skids. It looks like the restraints held despite the strain.”
“That's good news.”
“Not if we can't get the outer doors open,” I said.
He cursed. “Well, how about the space in general?”
“Mostly whole,” I said. “Roomy enough.”
“Understood.” I heard someone interrupt with a report of six more bodies found. “Roger that. Start moving everything and everyone aft. Report on conditions you find along the way. Wright, see if you can get the shuttle comms up.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
I got down to the bigger shuttle, and got the hatch open. It looked pristine inside, like no one had used it in a long time. I made my way to the cockpit, found the communications station, and looked at it blankly. It was an older system, one I wasn’t familiar with. I cursed a bit, but started looking around, and finally found a manual of sorts in a storage space under the seat cushion.
I say of sorts, because it wasn't written for someone looking at the controls for the first time. And it was written in that dry, meandering way that military documents so often have, spending pages listing out regulations and who had signed off the various changes.
My tablet buzzed, and I answered it. “What have you got, Wright?” the XO said.
“A system I don’t know,” I said. “You ever used an ARC-671 mark 4?”
“Not since school.”
I sighed. “Do you know where the on switch is?”
“If the shuttle is powered, it should be on.”
“Okay, I could use some help,” I said. “If I turn this thing on, I’m likely to put it in whatever the shuttle equivalent of drive is and smash it into the bulkhead.”
Cmdr Tatum smiled faintly. “We’ve got everyone moving that way right now. Someone will be there to help shortly.”
Sure enough, I had five people show up moments later, and fortunately, one of the them, OS1 Zapprodos, had some experience with the shuttle. We got the main power on, and he leaned over the comms station for five minutes before giving me the thumbs up. “You’re good to go on channel six eight. It’s connected to a secure link to fleet HQ.”
“Me?” I said. “Why do I get to talk to them?”
He shrugged. “You’ve done it before.”
I gave him a dirty look. “Fine.” I keyed my mic to channel 68. “This is the USS Niagra Falls, SC-1503. Can anyone hear me?”
The radio stayed silent. It occurred to me that being in a metal cocoon probably didn’t help the signal get through, and I said as much to Zapprodos.
“It shouldn’t be an issue,” he said. “The hangar doors are designed to pass radio signals so you can do comms checks while in here.”
“But no one is answering,” I said.
“Just keep transmitting,” he said. “Isn’t that what you did at Juno?”
“This is all different,” I replied. “Much, much different.”
“Well, we’re all happy you’re here.” He shuffled his feet. “I don’t know what we would do without you.”
I looked around at the others standing watching me like I was some kind of hero. It made me both self-conscious, but also a little angry. “You’d fight like hell to survive. Just like we’re doing now.”
The radio crackled. “Niagra, this is the Lincoln. Who am I talking to?”
“FC2 Peter Wright.”
“Holy shit! The admiral said you’d be the one to call!”
The guys around were listening in. I could tell by the way they all grinned like proud parents. I just shook my head. “We’re sitting out here blind. Most of our systems are down or damaged. Can you tell us what you see?”
“Wait one, petty officer.”
“Waiting, aye.”
Cmdr Tatum came into the cockpit. “What’s going on?”
“Wright’s talking to the Lincoln,” Zapprodos said.
“They were expecting him!” someone else said.
“Of course they were,” the XO said. “What channel?”
“Six Eight.”
A familiar voice came over the radio. “Well, Wright, you’ve ruined another ship I see.”
“Affirmative, Admiral Duffy,” I said. “The question is, did we save Port Washington?”
“Yes, son, you did. Thank you.”
“It wasn’t me, Admiral,” I said. “I’d say that goes to Captain Butler.”
“Is he there?”
The XO jumped in. “Admiral, this is Cmdr Tatum. I’m sorry to report Captain Butler among the casualties.”
“Commander,” the admiral said. “What’s your status?”
“Still trying to get a handle on that, sir, but we have 89 confirmed dead, and another 60 or so with significant wounds.” He hesitated. “We still have almost half the crew unaccounted for.”
“I have full faith in your abilities, commander,” the admiral said. “You are hereby designated the acting CO, and I expect regular reports.”
“We’re concerned about our vulnerability, sir.”
“Understood, but I think you are safe from enemy action for the moment.”
“Good to hear, sir,” Tatum said, and I could feel the relief spread around the compartment. “How about rescue operations for the—for my crew?”
Admiral Duffy sighed. “It’s a good two weeks out. Can you make it that long?”
“We’ll do our best, sir.”
“I have no doubt. In the meantime, send reports every half hour, and advise us of any substantial change in your condition.”
“Roger that.”
“And Wright?”
“Yessir?” I said.
“You are the luckiest bastard to ever float in space,” the admiral said. “And I’m grateful for it more than you know.”
“Um...” I said.
“We are as well, admiral,” Cmdr Tatum said.
“Fuck you all,” I said. “No one is ever going to want me in their damned command after this.”
“Maybe,” the Admiral said. “And maybe every ship in a hot zone will be requesting you on board. Fleet out.”
One of the engineers came in. “XO, we’ve got an issue.”
Tatum didn’t correct him. “What’s up, Fox?”
“It’s the supply deck. There are three guys trapped, and the life support is out in their area. We can’t get air to them, and at least one is seriously injured.”
“Who are the three?”
“Harris, Martinson, and the Suppo.”
“Who’s injured?”
“Suppo.”
Before Tatum could say anything, I said, “I’ll go and help.”
Fox looked me up and down. “What’re you going to do?”
Cmdr Tatum just gave him a look, that even from within a helmet was withering. “Go,” he told me. “Just keep me in the loop.”
Chapter 12
I headed forward with Fox following. He kept trying to get my attention, but I just ignored him. I didn’t have time for bullshit when my friend was in danger. Finally, he caught my arm and spun me around. “What the hell do you think you’re going to do?”
“I don’t know!” I yelled. “But I’ll be damned if I don’t try something!”
He let go. “It’s bad. There’s a lot of damage, and there's also a lot of casualties.”
“Dead guys,” I said.
“Yeah,” he said. “And they didn’t just stop living. There’s a lot of blood.”
“In big globs, or a fine mist that you can’t dodge?”
He looked away. “Both.”
I nodded. “I’ve been through this before. It’s hell, and there’s nothing to do but just muddle through.”
He looked back at me. “Who the hell are you?”
“FC2 Wright.” With a grimace I added, “Last man standing at Juno.”
“You’re shitting me.”
I started moving again. �
�Seriously dude? I thought the whole damn ship knew.”
“I work nights in the engine room,” he said. “I don’t know half of my own damn department.”
We came to the end of the passage. Something had crunched it down, and there wasn’t enough space to squeeze a rat through. “Is this the problem?”
“Yep,” he said. “That’s one of the air recyclers. It came loose and went through the deck.”
I pulled up the ship’s layout. “Is there any way around?”
“Not really. Not now.”
“We can’t go across the ship to the starboard passage?”
“Not in this area,” he said. “We're not sure what happened, but a strip of the hull just peeled away right through there. We think it had to do with the way the starboard engine was jettisoned, but hell if I know how.”
“I didn’t think that could happen,” I said.
“Yeah, well, I don’t think any of this was planned for by anyone,” he said. “Certainly not the ship builders.”
“Fair enough.” I looked at the layout again. “So there’s this passage, and not much else. How did you talk to them?”
“Ad hoc network. They don’t have anything with any transmit power in there.”
“What are we doing yapping then?” I said. “Get them back up!”
“Oh! Right!” he said. He pulled out his tablet and tapped a few buttons.
I saw Harris’ face come up. His helmet was cracked, and he had a trickle of dried blood on his cheek. “Hey guys,” he said.
Same old laconic Harris. It made me smile. “Hey yourself,” I said. “How’s it going in there?”
“Lost the Suppo,” he replied. “He had a major gash down his leg. We couldn’t stop the bleeding, not without air.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, well, I don’t see how we’re going to avoid the same fate.”
“Do you have any air bottles?”
He chuckled darkly. “Two full racks. But my steel suit is leaking like a sieve. Doobie’s isn’t quite as bad, but still not whole.”
“And your space?”
“About the same.” He panned around, and I saw LtCmdr Clark’s body, surrounded by a cloud of blood, and Doobie, curled in a corner. Even in a steel suit I could see him shaking. A lot of debris floated around them as well.
“I’m going to find a way to get to you,” I said.
“Don’t see how,” he replied.
“Neither do I. Yet.”
He grinned. “Glad we’re on the same page then.”
I shook my head and signed off. “Okay, let’s see how bad this gash down the side is.”
“You’re joking,” Fox said.
“You got a better idea?”
“Up and over? Down and around?” he said. “Hell, there’s got to be something.”
So we looked. The engineering space where the air recycler had come from had ripped apart several other spaces, including the last forward ladder. We did find a few more live guys, and a lot more dead. Several others had joined our party, and I got them moving the living and dead back aft while Fox and I worked our way through the wreckage.
We got as far forward as we could, but it looked from our perspective that the whole nose of the ship had been crushed like a can. “Anyone in those spaces, do you think?” Fox said.
I looked at the layout. “Mostly storage. Hopefully no one was there when we hit everything.”
“Yeah, hopefully.” He sighed and looked around the dark, cramped passageway. “Down and around now?”
“Let’s try it.”
We had to go back almost to midship to find a way to the lower decks. Several guys were coming up, and they warned us about what we were going into, but I didn’t care. And at the rear of the group, I saw Dilly.
I grabbed him. “Dude! You’re the first person from our workcenter I’ve seen!”
He just looked through me. “What?”
“Dilly!” I shook him a little. “It’s me, Wright!”
“Wright’s dead,” he said. “Everyone’s dead.”
Fox pulled me off of him and he followed the ragged line of sailors aft. I started after him, but Fox said, “Let him go. The guy’s obviously in shock.”
“Yeah. It’s just...”
“You want to save everyone.” He didn’t look very happy about it.
“Yeah,” I said. “I guess I do.”
We went down and started picking our way forward. “What about you?” I said. “Why are you following me?”
He didn’t say anything at first. I didn’t feel like talking either. We were making our way down the port passage, but it was a maze of conduit, piping, and cables looking like some kind of industrial jungle. After we crawled through a tight spot, he suddenly said, “I don’t know why. I’m scared out of my mind but you... you’re not. And so despite you leading me into who knows what, I feel safer with you.”
I snorted. “I’m just as scared as you are,” I said. “I just want to work, and save a friend, if I can. If you want safety, head to the shuttle deck.”
“No, it’s cool,” he said. He pointed to a stencil over a crooked hatch. “Frame 36. We’re right under them.”
I peered forward, but we were near the crunched bow again. “It’s a good thing. That’s frame 24 right there, but it doesn’t look like it’s 12 feet away.”
“Okay then.” He pulled up the layout. “It looks like this space in the center is part of the garden, so that won’t help, but this area on the outside edge... is the freezer? Is that right?”
I looked over his shoulder. “Looks that way to me.”
“And here, you see this?” He pointed. “It’s the entrance from supply. On their level.”
I pulled out my tablet and sent out a call to Harris. His face appeared after a few minutes. “Hello, friend,” he said.
“How are you?” I said.
He shrugged. “Still alive.”
“And Doobie?”
“In a bad way, I think,” he said. “He’s gone completely catatonic.”
“What?”
Harris pursed his lips. “I guess it’s like he’s asleep, but his eyes are open. His suit says he’s still alive, though.”
“Well, that’s something,” I said. “Listen: can you get into the freezer from where you are?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, hang tight,” I said, and signed off.
“He didn’t even ask why,” Fox said.
“Not his style,” I said. “Okay, how hard do you think it would be to punch through this wall?”
Fox looked around. “It’s got some buckling already... if we can find a plasma saw, probably about thirty minutes.”
“And if we can’t?” I asked.
“We can,” Fox said. “We passed a damage control locker getting here. There are always a couple inside.”
“Lead the way.”
My tablet buzzed, and Commander Tatum appeared on the screen. “Where the hell are you?” he asked.
“Rescuing a couple of guys,” I said.
“Shit, I thought... never mind.” He hesitated. “FC1 Dillon is back here. He’s not really coherent.”
“Yes sir,” I said. “I passed him on the way forward.”
“What do you think?” he asked.
“Couldn’t say, sir.” I glanced at Fox, but he was struggling to get the hatch on the DC locker open. “I’ve never been through anything like this with other people. And everyone seems to be handling it differently.”
“Roger that.” The commander sighed. “Do what you can, but get back here ASAP. Things seem to be breaking down all over the place.”
“More than they were already?”
He snorted. “Let’s just say that I’m surprised everything isn’t already broken, but no, new things keep popping left and right. It’s bad enough that we may have to pull the shuttle out and park it somewhere away from the ship. So don’t assume anything.”
“Work fast, be careful, do
n’t assume. Got it.”
Cmdr Tatum shook his head. “And keep in touch. Tatum out.”
I put my tablet back on my chest and turned to find Fox trundling down the passage with the plasma cutter. “Hey, the XO says we need to be careful about live systems still being possible.”
“Really?” he said. “In this area?” He turned the cutter on, and the blade began glowing blue.
I started towards him. “Did you even check?” I said as he put the blade on the wall.
“Nothing to worry about,” he said. “Just some general type stuff in the bulkhead through here, nothing to worry about.” He pushed the cutter in, and I saw the smoke from where it vaporized the—well, whatever the made bulkheads from. Metal, fiberglass, and insulation I guess.
“See?” he said as I got closer. “No prob—”
The bulkhead exploded. I saw Fox thrown back just before the shock hit me, and then I was spinning down the passage, completely out of control... and then I hit something, and I blacked out.
Pain brought me back. Pain, and someone shaking me. I opened my eyes, and saw Harris looking back at me. “You got out,” I said.
I could see him talking, but I couldn’t hear anything. My ears were ringing, but more than that, I could see the cracks in my face screen, and I had a feeling that my radio had been broken. Hard to communicate without it in no atmosphere, but we had a few hand signals we were taught, and I gave the sign for pain. And no comms.
He nodded, and began towing me aft. I guessed we were headed to the shuttle bay. I didn’t know anymore, and almost didn’t care. Everything hurt, breathing was hard, and I had seen the end of the passage, with the hole in the bulkhead, and the remains of Fox.
I started crying, and couldn’t stop.
So many times I had blessed zero g’s when moving things around a ship. Never thought I would bless it for allowing me to be dragged, along with Doobie, behind Harris. But he still had to contend with the chaos, and we bumped each other and all manner of things as he made his way to the shuttle bay. And every time, no matter how slight, sent stabbing pain through every inch of my body. At least what I could feel.
I couldn’t feel my legs. And I was scared to look, both because I was afraid of what I might see, but also because moving my head hurt most of all. So I just closed my eyes. Tears floated all around my face anyway.
Till the Conflict Is Over Page 10
