Blackthorn (Taurian Empire)

by Nate Johnson

  Reaching down, his hand searched for the connector. Again, he felt the gravity field getting ready to let go, but it firmed up, and the connector rolled into his hand.

  Smiling, he slipped it into the hose and then connected the two pieces together.

  “Bring the port impulse engine back online,” he told the AI.

  “Acknowledge,” the computer said. “System working.”

  Logan’s shoulders slumped.

  “You can use the port arrow, Kaylee,” he said into his suit radio.

  “Logan,” Kaylee, said. “Hurry.”

  His heart jumped as he pulled his head out of the compartment, not bothering to button her up. Scrambling to his feet, he raced through the hatch and into the galley.

  The world came to a screeching halt as he waited for the air to return to the galley. Every nerve was screaming at him to break the seal and hurry to Kaylee. But he forced himself to wait for the green light.

  At last, the light shifted to green, and he was through the hatch and running up the passageway.

  “What is it?” he asked as he stepped onto the bridge.

  The ship rocked to the side, and the lights flickered, then went out. Followed almost immediately by the high-pitched scream of a Higgs engine winding down to full stop.

  Logan’s heart came to a stop as the ship died around them.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Logan’s heart floated into his throat as he felt the gravity field fall away. The darkness was broken only by two small emergency lights. A pale, eerie glow gave just enough light to see that everything was offline.

  “Noooo,” Kaylee screamed as she started to float out of her chair.

  Holding onto his armrest with one hand, Logan reached out and grabbed Kaylee with the other. He grunted as he pulled her back down to her chair. Holding her in place, he waited while she hurriedly strapped herself down.

  “A6127,” Logan said as he fought to keep the panic out of his voice. “Where is auxiliary power?”

  A weak, scratchy voice answered, “Standby.”

  Logan glanced over to Kaylee and noticed that her faceplate was still up. Reaching over, he flipped it down and gave her a smile.

  She tried to smile back, but the terror pumping through her obviously didn’t help.

  The ship rocked to the side and then slowly began spinning. They were venting somewhere. Maybe that’s good, he thought. He had lost maneuverability. But their spinning from the escaping air might make things harder for the Black Pearl.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Kaylee said. Her face had turned a pale shade of green with heavy undertones of gray. Her hair had wrapped around her sweaty forehead.

  Logan shook his head. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do for her.

  “A6127, where are we on the power shift?”

  “Standby,” the computer said. Followed almost immediately by a heavy thunk.

  The gravity returned at one-third of force. Just enough to make moving about possible. A few of the red and blue lights on some of the equipment started to flicker.

  “Damage report,” Logan said as he held his breath.

  The A6127 returned with a slightly stronger voice. “The Higgs engine is offline. I am running diagnostics. The auxiliary power is on, Life support is set to the minimums. The vessel has been breached in the Engine room, the port sewage handling tank and in staterooms three and four.”

  “What about the weapon system?” Logan asked.

  “The Plasma cannon is offline. The auxiliary power system is not designed to support such an energy draw.”

  “So, you are telling me that we have more holes than Swiss cheese, no engine, no weapons, and a broken toilet?” Logan said with a shake of his head. “What would you recommend?”

  The A6127 didn’t even pause. “I am sorry,” it said. “I thought that was obvious. I would recommend abandoning ship. Really, you probably should have done so several minutes ago.”

  Logan shook his head. The damn thing was getting too cocky. His mind frantically searched for some answer. They were sitting ducks. Waiting to get plucked.

  Twisting in the weak gravity, he pulled Kaylee from her chair and made her sit on the deck between two equipment consoles. Then he pulled his suitcase to place it in front of her. It wouldn’t really provide any protection, he thought. But it might make her feel better.

  Opening the case, he removed the pistol he had taken from their attacker on Montlake. What had it been? Ten days earlier? It seemed like a lifetime.

  Pulling back the pistol’s slide, he made sure the gun was ready, then forced his glove finger into the trigger housing. It was all he had left. He’d wait until the pirates boarded and try to take them out.

  Of course, knowing the Black Pearl, she’d just stand back and poke them full of holes.

  Turning, he gave Kaylee a weak smile.

  She looked at him with sad eyes. She knew what was coming.

  Kneeling down, he sat next to her and put his arm around her.

  She leaned into him and smiled.

  “Miss Kaylee Williams,” he began. “I am ...”

  The bridge was bathed in blue light as a laser beam pierced the far bulkhead. It lingered but a moment then disappeared.

  A swift breeze pulled at his suit as the air rushed from the compartment.

  That hadn’t taken long, he thought, as he reached up and pulled the video feed where he could see it.

  The Princess’s running lights reflected off the pirate ship. The Black Pearl had drawn within point blank range. Logan knew that she would sit there and tear them apart.

  His heart fell. He had failed.

  Again, the pale yellow light of the emergency lanterns faded to be replaced by the brilliant blue laser ripping another hole in the ship’s side.

  Kaylee’s hand gripped his shoulders.

  The Black Pearl had them bracketed. With as many holes as the ship had, the attacking ship might actually be able to pick up infrared readings. They knew where they were sitting on the bridge and were just lining up a shot.

  Logan watched the clock count down. Four seconds.

  They wouldn’t miss again. Three seconds.

  His muscles tensed, expecting the blow. Two seconds.

  He closed his eyes and winced in expectation. One second.

  Nothing happened. He kept his eyes closed for a moment longer. But he couldn’t stand the pressure.

  Slowly cracking one eyelid open, he looked.

  His heart jumped. No, it was impossible.

  A long gray shadow of wonderfulness had placed itself between the Black Pearl and the Princess.

  As Logan watched, the new ship grew bigger, and the familiar Imperial Shield came into view. Followed by the sweetest words in the entire Empire.

  I.S.S. Blackthorn

  “YESSSSSS!” Logan screamed.

  His heart raced as he watched the Black Pearl frantically shifting their aim and firing again into the Blackthorn. Logan could well imagine the crew scrambling to patch holes.

  “What is it,” Kaylee asked as she stood up to see what he was screaming about.

  “The Blackthorn,” he said with a large smile. They came back for us. I don’t know why I don’t know how. I just know they did.

  Her eyes narrowed in confusion. “Does that mean we are safe?”

  Smiling, he held up a hand and said, “watch,” indicating the video screen. “Watch the starboard side, just aft of the hangar hatch.”

  Kaylee frowned as she studied the screen in front of her.

  Logan held his breath.

  “There,” he said as a small white explosion pushed something from the Blackthorn.

  Almost immediately, the Black Pearl split open like a peeled banana. Starting at the front of the ship, the skin curled back on itself.

  “What happened?” Kaylee begged.

  “They messed with the Imperial Navy,” Logan said with a huge grin. “A rail gun. Fifteen pounds of pure steel launched at mach six. N
othing can stop it. The Blackthorn held off on firing until they were properly aligned, then put a bowling ball through the ship, from bow to stern.”

  Kaylee looked at him, then back to the screen and back to him.

  “Is it over?” she asked.

  “Well, if anyone on that ship is still alive, and if that person moves an inch. They will be swallowing a railgun slug traveling at over four thousand miles an hour. So yeah, I think it is over.”

  She stared at him for a long moment then sank to the deck and buried her helmet covered head in her hands.

  “Starship Princess this is Blackthorn, over,” a voice said. It sounded like the skipper, and he didn’t sound pleased.

  Logan scrambled with the keypad on his suit arm to shift his suit transmitter over to the vessel hailing frequency. His heart raced as he tried to bring his breathing back to normal.

  “Blackthorn, this is Princess,” Logan answered.

  “Miller? Is Miss Williams with you? Over.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Logan answered as he glanced at the woman smiling next to him. “She is fine, we are both fine.”

  There was a long pregnant pause, then the radio crackled.

  “Standby, we need to fix a few things here. Then I will send over a team to retrieve you.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Logan said. “We aren’t going anywhere.”

  The radio was silent. Logan frowned as he tried to figure out what was going on. He knew that the waiting was going to be the worst few minutes of his life. He wouldn’t feel good until he had Kaylee safely aboard the Blackthorn.

  As if knowing it was going to be abandoned, the ship gave a twist, as a slight groan echoed through the steel deck. Logan’s heart dropped. They weren’t going to have long.

  “Blackthorn,” he said. “I don’t think we can wait, we are coming apart at the seams.”

  Again, there was a long pause.

  “Roger,” the skipper said. “Go ahead and make your jump. We will pick you up if you miss.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Logan said. “We are headed for the airlock.” Turning, he took Kaylee’s hand. “Do you need to get anything?” he asked as he picked up his suitcase.

  “No. I have the report right here,” she said as she patted the side pocket on her suit.

  He smiled to himself. She was always prepared.

  “Come on then.”

  The two of them made their way to the airlock. The Princess had stopped venting, and A6127 had stopped the spinning with the last of her impulse engines.

  The outer airlock hatch had been blown away, along with a good section of the ship’s exterior. A gap large enough for two people.

  “Be careful,” Logan said, “The sharp edges will rip a suit wide open.”

  Kaylee nodded, keeping herself focused on the sight outside.

  Logan looked out across the blackness to the Blackthorn hanging in space. A hundred yards from them. Home, he thought, as a warm happiness settled over him.

  The skipper had turned on the two large spotlights and pointed them towards the Princess.

  “We’re ready,” the skipper said. “But hurry, we can’t hang here too long. There is enough debris around here to scuttle a cruiser.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Logan said as he positioned Kaylee in front of him. Snapping his suit hooks to the back of her. She looked back over her shoulder with a confused expression.

  “No way am I letting you out of my grip. Here, hold this in front of you,” he said as he handed her the suitcase.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  She began to nod, then said, “Wait.”

  Logan froze in place as Kaylee shifted her grip on the case then held a hand out and gently patted the bulkhead.

  “Thank you, Princess, you were the best ship ever.”

  “You are welcome,” the A6127 responded. Logan thought briefly he heard a regretful tone to the A.I. voice. But then, what did he expect. The ship had served them well. Logan had to swallow hard to regain control. Smiling at Kaylee, he lifted an eyebrow.

  She nodded, then faced forward, leaned back into him and melted into his arms.

  Logan sighed, this was it. They were returning to the real world. A brief sense of sadness washed through him. Never again would he have Kaylee all to himself. She would go back to her world. And he to his. And this time, he was relatively sure it would actually happen.

  Gritting his teeth, he pushed off away from the Princess.

  The two of them floated across the inky dark. He wrapped his arms around Kaylee.

  The large hangar doors were open. Logan could see two suited figures waiting at the edge. Both of them with long poles, ready to pull them in if necessary.

  Using his suit thrusters, Logan made the necessary adjustments. The ship grew bigger. The opening beckoning them.

  At last, they crossed the threshold and collapsed to the deck.

  “Bridge, we’ve got them,” Chief Bowen said. “Request permission to close the hangar doors and pressurize.”

  “Permission granted,” came over the ship's 1MC.

  Logan knelt on the deck for a long moment as he pulled himself back together. For the first time in weeks, he felt some of the tension in his shoulders melt away.

  He had gotten her to safety.

  Glancing back behind him, he watched as the Princess started to come apart. A rupture somewhere had started her spinning once again. Pieces were flying off in different directions.

  It was a sad ending for a good ship.

  Finally, the Blackthorn’s hangar doors closed and the red light above the doors shifted to green. Chief Bowen pushed back his face plate.

  “Welcome home, Miller,” the chief said as he shook his head.

  Logan pushed back his own faceplate and took a deep breath. That familiar scent of machine oil, burnt ozone, and men, washed over him and his shoulders relaxed. Home

  The sad frown on the Chief’s face surprised him. When Peterson pulled his helmet back showing the same somber look, Logan’s heart began to race.

  He had expected hugs, slapping of backs, and a good ration of crap. But these sad expressions weren’t right.

  “What happened,” Kaylee asked as she looked back and forth between the two men. “What’s wrong?”

  It was Peterson who sighed heavily. “Drake bought it,” he said with a sad grimace. “Right off, first shot, they nailed him.”

  Kaylee gasped and held her hand to her mouth.

  “No,” she said as a tear began to form.

  “Come on,” the Chief said. “The skipper will want to see you both right away.”

  As the group started forward, the Chief held out a hand to stop them from entering the main passageway.

  Logan’s heart fell as he watched four crewmen caring a black body bag aft towards storage.

  Drake, the youngest spacer onboard. This had been his first patrol. The kid couldn’t have been more than eighteen.

  Logan flashed to the memory of Kaylee playing poker with him and the others. Their laughter, and that shared sense of fun. He could tell by the pain in her eyes that she was remembering the same thing.

  His fist tightened as he fought to maintain control and not hit a bulkhead. It wasn’t right. None of it was right.

  “I wish those pirates were still alive so we could kill them again,” Peterson muttered as he stared after the body.

  “I want the men behind this,” Logan said. “It won’t be right until they are made to pay.”

  Kaylee glanced up at him and tried to give him a comforting smile as she gently patted her suit pocket. Reminding him, she just might have the ammunition they needed to get the job done.

  Chapter Nineteen.

  Lieutenant Commander Bob White was pissed. He gritted his teeth and stared at the screen. He was madder than he’d ever been in his entire life. Young Adam Drake should still be alive. And it was all his fault.

  A ship’s captain should take care of his men, he thought as his gut tightened into a ball. It was his primary re
sponsibility. He had failed. Miserably.

  A thousand different scenarios danced through his head. He should have stood off and blasted that ship into smithereens, being the predominant one.

  But, he hadn’t been sure of the situation. Who was firing and why. But still, he should have known.

  Instead, he’d placed his ship between the attacking vessel and the Princess. No one would be stupid enough to fire on an Imperial Naval Vessel. Even a lowly beacon tender.

  Yet, the idiot had done exactly that.

  The skipper grabbed the edge of the command chair and squeezed with all his might as he fought to bring himself back under control.

  The crew had performed well. The damage control teams had been excellent. Fixing the breaches in record time. Navigation and maneuvering had been spot on. Throughout the crew, each man had done his job as expected.

  It was he who had failed them.

  Clenching his jaw, he shook his head. You have a ship to run, he reminded himself. The crew will be looking to you for guidance.

  Allen Drake. Poor young Drake. He had been popular with the crew. Eager to learn, willing to work hard. Everything a captain could ask in a young spacer.

  And now he was gone, all because someone, somewhere, had decided that attacking Miss Williams was justified.

  Well, they were wrong, he thought. And they would pay.

  An empty feeling filled him as he realized he would have to send a letter to the boy’s family. How did a person do that? What could he say that would make everything all right?

  Things would never truly be all right for that family. There would always be a hole in their lives.

  Biting his lip, he pushed himself out of the command chair.

  “Stevens,” he said through tight lips, “have the men secure from general quarters and set a course for Taurus.”

  “Yes, Sir,” the young officer replied. “Should I send a message to fleet headquarters letting them know what happened?”

  The skipper slowly shook his head. “Not yet. Not until we figure out what is going on.”

  “Aye, aye, Sir,”

  The skipper made his way back to his cabin. He needed privacy. Somewhere he could curse and punch something without being seen.

  As he started to enter his rooms, Chief Bowen called out “Sir,”