by Phil Maxey
Taylor sighed. “If we don’t get that Retrenium there’s no way we’re going to make our mooring at Titan by Thursday.” She turned to Jones. “How far can we get on what we got?”
“We can make it to Mars colony, but we’re not going any further without more fuel.”
Taylor looked surprised. “We’re that low?”
“Yes, Captain.”
Taylor slid her hand over her forehead, like she was in the midst of a painful headache. She sat back in her seat when Captain Decker appeared again looking confused.
“My comms officer is telling me he can’t reach them either—”
Taylor interrupted. “Is there any syndicate activity in the area?”
“Some of Grain’s ships were seen a month back, but apart from that no. Have you contacted EA yet? The base is their jurisdiction.”
“I’m fully aware of that, Captain. Okay thank you for your time.” Captain Decker went to say something, but Elisa cut the feed. She knew when her captain was done with a conversation.
“Get me Briggs.”
Kilo Briggs oversaw the logistics of the solar system wide penal system, and was the go-to person when things went wrong.
A man in his forties with dark short wavy hair and glasses which looked too big for his face, appeared on the screen. This time it was suffering some interference.
“What can I do for you, Captain?” Briggs said as somebody handed him a tablet screen.
“I’m due a shipment of Retrenium—”
Briggs kept looking as if waiting for something. “Okay, and?” He quickly glanced down at the tablet, tapped the screen then handed it back.
“And it was meant to have docked two hours ago but it’s nowhere to be seen.”
Briggs’s expression changed. “It wasn’t coming from Station thirty-one, was it? We’re having trouble reaching them. There’s a Space Force cruiser Zeus that’s about four hours away from them that’s been tasked to go and see what’s going on. But apart from that there’s not much—” The screen fizzled and shrunk then vanished.
The captain looked at Elisa. “What’s happening?”
Elisa’s fingers danced over her console screen. “There’s some kind of electrical storm over northern Europe, it’s causing problems.”
Just as the captain was about to speak again, Briggs appeared. “Captain, you there? There’s an electrical storm above us, huge one, storm of the century they are calling it. I’m not sure if you got what I just said. I was saying there’s nothing else we can do for you. If you have filled your quota of Earth inmates, maybe move onto Mars and meet your shipment there.”
The captain sighed. “Okay, I’ll see about that.” Elisa stopped the feed and the screen reverted to showing the solar system and the bases.
Jones looked around to his captain. “Shall I project our course for Mars Colony?”
Taylor sat back, tapping her fingers on the artificial leather armrest once again. “Yes, and try to get those shuttles disembarked.”
CHAPTER 6
Thiago sat, trying to look cool on the plastic white seat.
“Are you trying to raise that price on your head or something, because the longer we sit here, the sooner someone’s going to try their luck.”
Luke sat next to him and was counting on Thiago being right. He knew if he had any chance of surviving on this ship, he needed to show a sign of force as soon as he could. Hopefully some idiot would try to take him out to show favor with one of the syndicates.
They both sat alone like an island amongst the other tables which were now quickly emptying. Other inmates gathered high above on the gantries looking down at them.
Thiago looked around. “Don’t think the IMs will save you, they are quick, but they won’t be quick enough if one of the syndicates makes a move.” Just as he finished talking a group of angry looking men sat at a table about twenty meters away.
Thiago put his head down. “That’s Babel’s people,” he whispered. “Maybe it’s time we went back upstairs.”
“If you got to be somewhere, I understand,” said Luke.
Thiago rubbed his chin looking pensive. “No, I think I’m going to stick around and see how this plays out.”
Another group of men, including the large man that came with Luke on the shuttle, sat opposite an equal distance from the first.
Thiago shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to watch both ways at once. “Here we go,” he said as a weathered looking man of average height, stood up from the first group and walked and sat calmly at the same table that he and Luke were at.
The older man smiled. “With all my people that you have put in various prisons, including this one, I feel that we already know each other. But we haven’t actually met, so let me introduce—”
“I know who you are, you’re Babel,” said Luke.
Thiago scratched his forehead and looked down.
“As I was saying, my name is Babel, I run the Grain syndicate and if you want to be alive in, ohh say an hour from now, you and I will become great friends.”
“Doesn’t seem like much of a good deal for me. What if the Phoenix syndicate want to offer me a better one?” Luke made sure that his words were heard by the other group and just as he finished the large man and a much smaller, bearded man walked to the table.
Babel looked at the bearded man scornfully. “We agreed, Evgeni, that he would be mine.”
Evgeni sat while smiling and looking at Luke then back to Babel. “I agree with Mr. Carter, you’re not offering him much of a deal. I would like to propose a counter offer,” he said with a Russian accent.
Babel’s fist clenched and he placed it on the molded table, two men from his group got to their feet, walked over, and stood behind him. “Evgeni, now listen to me real good. This piece of shit has put a hell of a lot more Grainers inside than your flaming birds. The scales have to be put right.”
More men got up from Evgeni’s group and stood behind him.
Evgeni looked at Luke. “Our friend Babel, offers you your life and in return you will be a whore. A man with no life who does whatever they tell you to do,” he said smiling.
Most of the men from Babel’s group walked over and stood behind him. “He’s coming with us. Do you want to start a war over him?”
The remainder of the Phoenix syndicate’s group joined the rest. Evgeni scratched his temple. “Hmm, if that is what it will take, I think, maybe yes.”
Babel jumped up angrily.
Luke watched both the syndicate leaders, then quickly glanced at Thiago who was sweating, looking from one group to the other with wide eyes. He couldn’t help but smile.
Babel turned to Luke. “Make sure you sleep well tonight, it’s going to be your last.” He turned and walked away. His men followed.
Thiago let out a large breath.
Evgeni looked at Luke. “Yegor, will now stay with you.” Thiago started to say something but stopped when Evgeni held up a hand “Settle down, Thiago, he will sleep on the floor. You do not have to move from your comfy bed.” The large man stepped to the side of Luke.
Evgeni held out his hand to Luke. No part of him wanted to shake the hand of a man who must have been responsible for hundreds of deaths, drug running and prostitution, but he knew he had no choice. Briefly but firmly he shook it. Evgeni stood, smiled and with his men filtered away back to their part of the cellblock.
Luke and Thiago looked up at the man standing close by, who was casting a shadow over them both.
CHAPTER 7
Captain Douglas Calder sat in his well-worn seat on the bridge of the Zeus and looked at a featureless area of stars displayed on a large screen on front of him.
“Ensign Driver are you sure there’s no energy readings at all coming from the station?”
“No, sir.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense.”
“The station is positioned approximately center in the image you see on the main screen, as you can see there is no light coming f
rom it and our sensors are not reading any radiation emanating from the station at all.”
The captain looked puzzled. “Are you sure it’s actually there?”
“The gravity well at that location is in accordance with the mass of the station, sir.”
The heavily armed ruby class cruiser was within four thousand kilometers of Station thirty-one.
“Helm, slow us to point one impulse,” said the captain.
A slim gray haired man entered the bridge walking immediately to stand behind the captain’s chair. “Are we picking up any other kind of activity in the area?” said Lieutenant Commander Vox the XO. They both looked at their science officer, Ensign Driver, and her fingers moved across her console screen, producing overlapping lines and diagrams over the view of space on the main screen.
“No, other ships are in the area, sir.”
The shadow encrusted station grew steadily in size on the main screen as the Zeus moved closer.
“Its—” Calder hesitated as he got out of his seat “—its stabilizers must be offline.”
The twelve officers on the bridge looked in confusion as the station on the outer rim of the solar system slowly rotated about their view.
Vox moved behind Ensign Driver. “What was the station’s population?”
“Approximately eighteen-hundred people, sir.”
Calder turned to his left. “Comms, relay what we have found to central command on Europa and tell them we are going in for a closer look.” He turned to his right. “Tactical, I want to be ready for anything, including being fired upon by the station itself. We will board with a small squad.” He turned to the front again. “Helm, all stop.
* * * * *
Orange and purple lines shifted position on Captain Kurt Shaw’s HUD. He quickly banged the side of his helmet and his view returned to normal.
“Captain, we are ready to take off. Are you and your men good to go?” said the voice in his comms.
He looked around inside the cramped interior at his squad of five marines in their space combat suits. Holland, Hansen, Wheeler, Vargas, and Holt all nodded. “All ready back here,” he replied to the pilot.
There was a jolt, the engine noise increased an octave, and the troop carrier of the Zeus quickly moved along the bay and past the ship’s external doors which proceeded to close.
Kurt noticed a peculiar level of silence amongst his people. Looking at their heart rates on his HUD he could see this wasn’t a normal recon for any of them. “Everyone, check your weapons status and your comms, we have no idea what we’re heading into other than things definitely don’t look right.”
“It’s got to be a massive attack by one of the syndicates,” said a woman to Kurt's left, her blonde hair just visible through her visor.
“No syndicate has the juice to take out an entire station,” said Holt. “And even if it was a syndicate the station would have got off a distress call.” He checked the magazine on his gun. “This is something entirely different, but don’t ask me what.”
“I bet it’s aliens, woo—” A slim faced man waved his arms around like they were tentacles. Some of the marines laughed.
“Maybe it is,” replied a stubble jawed man, older than the others.
“Holland, don’t start with that shit,” said Holt.
“We don’t know much of what’s out this far, beyond this station, the Ulysses probe of 2178—” Holland frowned at the interruption.
“Found microbes that probably weren’t from earth, yeah we know the story and each time you tell it, doesn’t make little green men any more real. There’s nothing in this huge universe other than dumb old humans fucking everything up,” said Holt.
The slim faced man raised his gun. “To fucking everything up!”
Everyone laughed, including Holland.
“Docking in five minutes, everyone. We’re having to dock with one of their external docking ports, as their bay doors are closed.” The static filled pilot’s voice came over their comms.
“Right, get your game faces on, because there’s not going to be any up and down on the station, but hopefully the gravity plating on the floor will still be working,” said Kurt.
“I fucking hate zero G,” said the slim faced man.
“That’s why we train in it, Gibson. Everyone’s HUD working alright? Mine keeps doing something weird,” said Kurt. They all replied theirs was fine. “We go in with the usual formation. Gibson on point, Vargas you keep a real close eye on the sensors for any signs of life in there, Holland find out what the hell is going on with the stations systems, and Holt and Wheeler, cover our six.”
The small angular marine carrying ship approached the dark monolith silently rotating on the wrong axis.
“Zeus, we’re a few minutes out, you still seeing everything clearly? Over,” said Kurt.
“Yes, all your helmet cam’s and sensors are working correctly, Captain. Over.”
“Still no sign of life on the station? Over.”
“None. Over.”
“We are docking in ten seconds and counting, nine, eight, seven—” A voice came over the marines’ comms, then a deep clunk reverberated throughout the ship together with a slight jolt.
All the marines’ breathing accelerated.
“Stay tight, no exertions unless I give it the okay, everyone got that?” said Kurt standing. The rest also stood.
“Opening external airlock doors, now,” said the pilot followed by a clunk from beyond the ship. “Equalizing pressure.” Several seconds passed. “Okay, Captain, you are good to open the airlock.”
The lights around the marines changed to a red.
Kurt walked a few meters along the gantry between the seats to the large external airlock of the ship. He touched a green lit triangle on the wall to the side of the hatch and the airlock opened with a rush of air.
The light from inside the ship crept five meters along the station’s airlock. After that was darkness in which a small red light flashed on and off in the distance. Everyone switched their helmet lights on.
Gibson walked forward, followed by Kurt and the rest.
Once they were fully inside the stations airlock, the shuttles hatch behind them closed, and their helmet light beams illuminated the area around them.
“I’m bringing up the station’s layout, you should see it on the HUD,” said Kurt. “We should come out near the cargo hold, as you can see, reactor control is below us, and living quarters ten or so floors above us.”
Moving to the end of the airlock, a small red light flashed above a door. Gibson pressed the pad to the side to open it but nothing happened.
“It’s going to be a long way up to the living quarters if internal power is down,” said Wheeler.
“Take the panel off, use the manual control to get it open,” said Kurt.
Gibson pulled the panel off revealing a handle sunken into the wall. Pulling it down, he put his weight into it, rotating it. The door slowly opened, and the marines raised their guns.
“I’m reading hardly any internal atmosphere,” said Vargas.
“So, we got gravity plating working, but not enough breathable air,” said Kurt.
“The plating creates the gravity effect, it doesn’t require external power, which is probably why it’s working. It seems as if all transmission energy is out of action,” said Holland.
Gibson, Kurt, and the others walked out into a dark corridor. Emergency lights flashed red in the distance to the left and right.
“I’m not picking up any noise on the ultrasonics, or heat on the infrareds, for at least a couple hundred meters in any direction,” said Vargas moving her scanning device around.
Kurt looked at the group, his helmet light reflecting off their visors. “We’re going to have to split up into three teams, Gibson, go with Holland and check out the reactor, see why the stations dead. Holt, go with Vargas and see if there’s anyone still alive or not in the living quarters. Wheeler you’re with me, we’ll check out the cargo ho
ld and docking bay, see if there’s any ships still docked here. Anyone see anything wrong, don’t engage, either hold your position until you get support or get back to here.”
Everyone acknowledged and each team moved off.
Kurt and Wheeler moved along the grated flooring and past paneled walls with angled beams at their tops until they reached a secure looking door with “CARGO 02” above it. They briefly tapped on the dark glossy pad to the left of the doors frame, but as before nothing happened. Quickly pulling the panel off, they both set about turning the large handle which was more substantial than the previous one. The double doors started sliding away from each other. Once it was half open, Kurt peered into the gap. The light from his helmet only pushed the darkness away six or so meters, and within that, only a few cargo canisters were visible.
He brought up the schematic of the cargo hold, tapping the share option on the molded screen attached to his wrist. “The hold is about a hundred meters square, and three stories high.”
“Yup, I can see,” said Wheeler seeing the diagram on her HUD.
“There’s three exits, this is exit two. There’s another opposite us, then exit three is two floors up, which leads to docking bay one. Try to get a vid of all the canisters as you pass them, maybe something toxic escaped.”
“If it did, it will be covered up.”
Kurt looked at Wheeler. “That’s not our concern, marine.” He then squeezed through the gap in the doors.
Six floors further up, Holt and Vargas climbed off the top of the ladder in one of a few emergency shafts they had moved up, and out onto a small platform. “LIVING QUARTERS SECTION 2” was etched above a nearby door.
Vargas leaned over. “Give me a minute,” she said, out of breath.
“When we get back to Zeus, you, me, and the running simulator,” said Holt.
Vargas smiled. “That’s not much of a date,” she stood upright and moved her scanner left and right slightly. “Still nothing. This is not looking good for any survivors.” She looked at Holt who returned her look of concern with one of determination.
