by Hellfire
“The important thing is that we’re having a dialogue about this,” Jordan said soothingly.
In the front of the shuttlecraft, Matthew Driver and the Hellion pilot could not avoid overhearing them. Driver sense Aha’s embarrassment. “I am sorry about this,” he offered to Aha.
“I do not hold their offense against you, personally, but among my people, to discuss personal matters before others is considered quite vulgar,” Aha told him.
“It’s generally that way among my people as well,” Driver replied. “We have licensed counselors for that purpose. But, my warfighters are from a different culture, plus, they’re bored.”
“A different culture?”
“The planet Sapphire,” Driver explained. “They are an individualistic and undisciplined people.”
“Um, we can hear you,” Rook cautioned.
“And I am not from Sapphire, I am from Bodicéa,” Max Jordan explained. “But it’s okay, Dr. Skinner told me I was genetically Sapphirean.” Ignoring them, Matthew Driver continued his discussion with Aha. “We have been in space for nearly eight years, and in that time, I have noticed that a certain casualness has become the norm among our crew.”
“Casualness?” Aha asked.
“People seem to be comfortable discussing most any aspect of their self-lives, even while on duty,” Driver explained pointedly. “On Republic, my homeworld, people were more reserved. Mostly because our city-states were so crowded, what you kept inside of yourself was the only real privacy you had.”
“It is the same with my people,” Aha relaxed, just slightly. “Quiet City was densely populated, like your cities on Republic.”
“Was?” Driver asked.
“Was always, I should have said,” Aha clarified. “As you can imagine, with thousands of people living in a confined space on a small planetoid, people came to guard themselves. In such an environment, a human holds fast to that which makes him unique.” He paused. “I grew a rose once, a single beautiful rose. It was most precious to me.”
“You’re a very deep man, Aha,” Driver said. He indicated a panel. “What is the meaning of that readout. It fluctuated constantly during the flight.”
“It measures stellar interaction with the shuttle’s ion-drive,” Aha explained. “If the stellar gas becomes too dense, which sometimes happens, the ion-drive can accidentally detonate it.”
“I can see how that would be bad,” Driver said.
“Yes, but not a great danger to us, compared with certain other things,” Aha’s old eyes looked out into the burning maelstrom. “We are at our most vulnerable, now. If the Solarites strike, we will not know it until it is too late. The Tritium carrier is defenseless, and our shuttle could never escape their attack craft.”
“I thought you said this shuttle was too old to be any value to them?” Rook asked.
“The shuttle is worthless, but hostages may be valuable. The Company would never ransom our lives, but your ship might ransom yours,” Aha said.
Matthew Driver tried to shift the subject. “We have problems with piracy in our home systems, too,, primarily from ex-Mining Guilders who’ve gone rogue, it’s why we put starfighter bases in the out-worlds of our systems.”
“We used to send squadrons of fighter-ships to escort the Tritium-Haulers out of the photosphere,” said Aha, seeming almost wistful. “A long time ago.”
“Why did you stop?” Driver asked.
Aha was succinct. “Because the haulers stopped coming,”
“Right,” Driver knew that. He also knew the Hellions were extremely tight-lipped about… well, everything, but especially their Tritium refining business.
Driver went on. “My first tour of duty was escorting freighters from the outsystem to Republic. I was stationed at the Archon Orbital Base, secondary pilot on a ESV-39XJ. Very good ship, the 39XJ.”
“Did you engage many pirates?” Aha asked.
“We did not,” Driver admitted. “The Archon-Republic transit was too well defended.
Our unit record was flawless, though. Perfect launch and flight protocols for 100 missions.”
“And then?” Aha asked.
“I was promoted to first pilot and tasked to Inter-system transit. I escorted liners between the Sapphire system and the Republic system in an ESV-33H.”
“How long did you do that?”
“I did thirteen transits, and then I was selected for the Odyssey Project.”
“Did you encounter any pirates?”
“Neg, but once during an inspection, my crew found a shipment of unregistered hydroponic melons,” he said, with some pride. “We forced the ship to turn around and return to the inspection point.”
“That must have been… satisfying,” Aha said drily.
“I got a commendation for it,” Driver said proudly.
Aha nodded respectfully. “I remember when I was a boy, my father flew an escort fighter for the Company. He and another fighter were dispatched to answer a distress call from a waste-transfer vessel. However, the distress call was fake. The Solarite Pirates had already taken the vessel. They ambushed both fighters. My father and his weapons officer refused to allow their ship to be taken for the purpose of attacking our people. So, they collided their ship into the Solarite Pirate ship.”
Aha studied Driver for his reaction, and then leaned back in his seat. “By the time I was your age, the Tritium Long Haul ships had stopped coming. The Company shut down all the Tritium Refining Stations but one, just enough to keep what was left of our outposts going.
Mine was the last squadron of escort fighters left in the system.
“Our primary mission was to keep the Solarites from harassment of our outposts, and we had to protect the ships that carried Tritium from the refining station. Our ships were not as swift, nor as handsome as your Aves, but they protected the fleet enough.
“My wingman and were escorting a salvage ship to Hellfire Refining Station #1, to recover parts and equipment after it was decommissioned. Another squadron had established a tactical perimeter at the base. The Solarite Pirates held off just beyond the perimeter, waiting to claim the station and occasionally probing our defenses with suicide attacks.
“The Station Administrator grew more anxious with each passing sub-cycle. We knew from our experiences on other outposts that if we attacked the Solarite pirates hard, they would scatter and regroup, buying us time. But the administrator was convinced that attacking the Solarite pirates would only provoke them, and was convinced they were only waiting for us to leave so they could claim the station. He said if we did not attack them, they would not attack us.”
Aha paused long enough that Driver, Rook and Jordan wondered if he was going to continue the story at all. Finally, he continued. “When the Solarite Pirates attacked in force, the Administrator still would not let us counter-attack, because he had convinced himself it was just another test of our defenses. By the time he realized his error, Solarites were already boarding the station and slaughtering the work crews.
“He ordered an emergency evacuation, half of the fighters managed to escape, and one of the salvage ships. The Administrator did not make it out of the station. The Solarite captain dragged him through an airlock and into space while he was still alive, and lashed his body to the front of his ship as a trophy.”
Aha stopped, and in the silence that followed, you could almost hear the solar wind.
Rook stood and crossed the tactical periscope. “I think I’m going to scan the area for Solarite pirates. That should ease my boredom.”
Liminix CH-53
Eliza Change opened an access panel at the rear of the bridge and examined the crazy spider web of optical fibers behind it. “It looks like the pitch and yaw interface was blitzed in the last attack. I’ll be able to bypass it, but not until I can get out of this suit.” She held up her hands for Ono to see. The heavy gloves of the spacesuit were far too thick for the precision work she would need to perform.
“I suppose your
spacesuit technology is better,” Ono said.
“Not really,” Change conceded. “Space is the same everywhere. The Guild had an engineer, Dactylos Samsung, that tried to develop a suit with a force-field instead of a face-plate, but it malfunctioned, exposed him to hard vacuum. Both of his eyes exploded. They replaced them with cybernetic implants. We called him ‘Goldeneyes’ after that.”
“The Solarites do not require spacesuits,” Ono told her. “They have evolved the capability to survive in the stellar atmosphere; thick skin, internal air-sacs, bio-genetic reprocessing organs.”
“That must be convenient,” Change knelt down and examined the interface again. This was the kind of work a toolbot on Pegasus could perform, but she had grown impatient with the Hellions’ touchiness about their inferior technology, and decided not to mention how they would do it.
Logo called up to them. “Number 1 team, reporting. We have completed repairs and are ready to bring the power systems on-line.”
Ono received the news with her usual utter of emotion. “Secure your positions, number one technical team. I will initialize power systems from the Engine Control Room.” Ono prepared to exit toward the rear of the bridge. “You will have to come with me. I can not leave you on the Bridge alone.”
“We could complete repairs faster if I remained,” Change told her.
Ono insisted. “Leaving any of you unsupervised is unacceptable. You will come with me to the Engine Control Room.”
Eliza Jane Change snorted in frustration. “Very well.” In the engine room, Ono was careful. “I am going to power up the systems slowly. This will avoid a power spike. I will begin with life support.” She actually began by restoring power to two consoles in the engineering deck that controlled life support. Their iconography was unfamiliar to Change, but Lingotron helped her make sense of it. Once they were on-line, Ono purged the stellar atmosphere that had leaked into the ship, then pressurized the ship and sent minimal operational power to the bridge and the engineering section. Recessed lighting activated around the edge of the Control Room. It was dim and flickering, but with the light from the dials and displays that activated enough to reveal slightly more detail in the ship’s interior, such as the faded markings on the bulkheads in the Hellion language, and the outlines of the access panels to the Engine Control units.
After checking and double-checking the atmospheric readings, Ono and Change removed their helmets. The air was thin and cold, and it stung their nostrils, but it was breathable. “I’d like to repair that pitch and yaw interface now,” Change said. Ono gave a brief nod and led her back to the Bridge.
Shuttle-3
A light began flashing on the control panel in front of Aha. “Liminix CH-53 is repressurized,” Aha reported. “We are given permission to enter.” He unstrapped his restraints and rose from the pilot’s chair, and Matthew Driver rose with him.
“Finally, something to do,” Max Jordan said with a smile. “Not that it hasn’t been great
… waiting around here and stuff. And I’m not sure if we’re qualified to fix anything but… Hey, at least we’ll be off this ship. Not that it hasn’t been great. ” Rook said nothing, but simply stood up and shouldered his pack. Max Jordan strapped on his own pack, but then positioned himself facing Johnny Rook, but between him and the airlock.
“Hey, Johnny Rook, you are my best friend, and I am really sorry Caliph created a fantasy for me in which I had carnal relations with your wife.” Max Jordan spread his arms.
“Can I have a hug?”
Just then, the two viewports on the front of the shuttle exploded into the cabin.
Section 03
Shuttle 3
Driver felt the hurricane rush of the shuttle’s atmosphere venting into a space, and heard supersonic wind roar past his ears. He turned to see Aha fallen face first onto the deck and grabbed him by the collar of his uniform before he could be blown through the empty eye-sockets of the shuttlecraft. He heard Aha make a garbled sound like ‘Gurp,’ but thought nothing of it in the rush to escape the damaged ship.
With his other hand, Driver manually activated the shutters, which slid up from under the nose of the shuttle and managed to slow the expulsion of what was left of their air supply.
“Get out!” Driver screamed at Rook and Jordan. “Get out now!” His voice sounded strange and tinny, because of the thin air and because the sudden decompression had damaged his eardrums.
Getting out now happened to be the plan Rook and Jordan were already working on, scrambling to pull their gear together into a pair of landing packs, Driver pulled Aha across the shuttle to the airlock, wrapping his arms around the old pilot’s chest. In the minimal gravity, Aha weighed little, and Driver was able to get him into the tube that connected the shuttle with Liminix without much difficulty. Jordan followed and Rook sealed the airlock hatch behind him.
“Jeepers!” said Max Jordan when they were in Liminix CH-53’s airlock.
“What happened?” Rook asked.
Driver didn’t know for sure. Maybe it was structural failure but he didn’t think so.
Something had impacted the portals just before they exploded, but that was not important right now. Driver rolled Aha onto his back and checked him over. “He’s bleeding badly. Do any of you have a MED kit?”
“We had one in the shuttle,” Rook answered.
“I think there’s one in my pack,” Jordan dropped his bag and prepared to open it.
Just then Aha snapped into consciousness for a brief second, and seemed to cast a quick glance, enough to confirm he was on LiminixCH-53 and the rest of the crew were safe.
“Good,” Aha whispered, and then he went limp and his eyes closed.
Jordan dropped down next to him. “I have anti-bleeders.” Driver checked Aha’s vitals again. “Never mind.”
“What happened?” Rook asked again.
Driver shook his head because he just didn’t know. Then, something hit the ship hard enough to knock the three of them off their feet.
Liminex CH-53 —– The Bridge
On the bridge, Ono and Change were jarred by the same impact. And before they could pick themselves up, the ship was hit by a double blast that shook the deck and knocked their legs out from underneath them.
“Solarite attack,” Ono announced, pulling herself up. “They attacked as soon as we brought main power on-line, exactly as I knew they would.”
“How could they detect that through the stellar interference,” Change shouted. “How did they get here so quickly?”
“They must have attached a transponder to activate when the ship was breached,” Ono answered. “It doesn’t…”
“… matter,” she would have finished except a massive Solarite charge detonated close enough to Liminix CH-53 to knock the ship hard and send them sprawling onto the deck again.
It was followed by another, further off, but close enough to give the ship a good hard shake.
Change pulled herself up and clung tight to the pilot’s chair. “I thought you said they didn’t want to destroy the ship.”
“They’re using compression charges, trying to injure us so we don’t resist when they board,” Ono told her. “They’d prefer living hostages, but if they can’t…” Suddenly, the entire ship began vibrating as though something were passing above it.
Several loud clanks came from the outer hull. Ono didn’t have to tell Change what it meant.
She knew a Solarite boarding ship was hovering them, and the first boarding parties had clamped on to the outer hull.
Ono pulled herself up to the commander’s station, and punched the communicator.
“Third team, we need the pilot up here, in the command center, immediately!” Liminix CH-53 – The Airlock
Back in the airlock, Driver clicked the communication device on the wall and spoke into the trapezoid of metal mesh that served as the microphone. “There is a problem with that,” he said, looking at the jagged piece of shuttle viewport that had nearly decapitat
ed Aha.
“The pilot’s dead.”
Liminex CH-53 —– The Bridge
Ono activated the sensor scopes using switches on the arm of the commander’s chair.
The images on the forward monitors of the bridge were cut through with static, but one could make out a pair of Solarite Pirate ships, one directly above them, the second bearing down on their position. Each one was a junky arrangement of engines and fuselages, salvaged from dozens of ships and hacked together.
Ono was grim. “Without a pilot, we will not escape the Solarite attack.” Eliza Change strapped herself into the helmsman’s seat. “If it’s all the same to you… I’ll pilot this tanker.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, professional.
“You are not certified to operate this vessel,” Ono protested.
Change ignored her and grabbed the twin joysticks. “Strap in! We’re getting out of here.”
Ono opened her mouth to protest could say nothing more because the sudden lurch of Liminex CH-53 away from under the pirate ship knocked her down to the deck for a third time.
On her second attempt to protest, she was thrown back to the rear bulkhead as Change fired the ship’s two working engines and directed them on a vector away from the attacking Solarites.
One of the data displays on Change’s panel lit up in ominous red, showing a line that sloped violently upward.
“This ship is not rated for that acceleration curve!” Ono screamed from the back.
But Eliza Jane Change didn’t hear her. She was in control. A hundred thousand tons of starship was obeying her every command, at least to the extent its battered systems could. She was doing the only thing in her life that had ever made sense to her.
All she had to do now was navigate out of the sun, avoid the pirate fleet, cut through an asteroid debris field and then find the refining station.
“Change to crew,” she said into the ship’s COM system. “If you haven’t grabbed onto anything secure, I suggest you do so now.”
Back at The Airlock
Because of the way the shuttle had docked, its airlock formed the floor of the Liminix airlock Driver and the warfighters had just been tossed into the walls of.
