by J. L. Curtis
Fargo laughed. “Satisfying? Is that what you call it? I’m just glad the cabins are pretty soundproof.”
She reddened slightly, saying, “I don’t care. Everybody here knows about us, and it has been three months.” Liz stuck her head in, and Nicole asked, “You need me?”
“If you’re not too busy. There’s something you need to see.”
Curious, Nicole got up, dropped her tray in the recycle and said, “I’ll see you later,” winking at Fargo.
Nicole followed Liz up to the bridge, “What’s up?”
Liz plopped in the seat she’d adopted as her station and brought up one of the large screens, “What do you think of that?”
Nicole looked at the vid, “A moon? With some kind of… surface expression… No wait, that’s a…”
“Mining operation maybe?”
Nicole cocked her head, “But that surface doesn’t look right.”
Liz stepped through the vid, and the picture expanded greatly, “Definitely mining. But that doesn’t look like any equipment I’ve ever seen. And that plume… Volcanic, no… Gas or maybe liquid? There’s a… rim around the caldera?”
“How about ice? This is Eros, Endine’s moon. And it’s an ice moon. I think that’s a Goon or Trader ice mining operation. There was an alert a couple of months ago about ice blocks with unusual composition showing up in some locations.”
Nicole sat down, “I obviously didn’t see that. Where did this data come from?”
Jace stepped onto the bridge, “From a stealthed drone we dropped the last time we were here. It was sent in on a ballistic trajectory to check out the other things in the system. We picked it up last night, and it captured this.”
“Have you reported it?”
Jace laughed. “Not yet, the analysis is not complete. There are some strange things in the data.” He leaned over, “May I?”
Liz nodded and moved over, as Jace forwarded the data to a particular location, “What do you think of that?”
Nicole bumped the frames forward and backward, “It… It looks like a ship is coming out of that geyser!” She zoomed in until the frame blurred, “That is a ship! How?”
Jace stood back smiling, “Remember Enceladus?”
Fargo stepped into the hatch, “Permission, Captain?”
Jace waved magnanimously, “Enter, sir. What do you know about Enceladus?”
Fargo looked around in confusion, then up at the vid, “Uh, moon of Saturn? That Enceladus?”
Jace nodded. “That one.”
“Isn’t that where we got a lot of our ice for the exploration and colony ships?”
Jace sighed, “You’ll never make a spacer. Enceladus was an ancient discovery orbiting Saturn, in the eighteenth century, and was first closely observed in two thousand five, by an early probe called Cassini. It was determined that there was ice and plumes of water coming from its South Pole. In twenty-one thirty, the USSF made the first landings and determined that in fact there was an eight to ten mile thick ice sheet covering the entire moon and under that was a ten to fifteen mile deep liquid ocean below that. They drilled out one of the vents, and sent probes down, finding a thin layer of atmosphere between the ocean and the ice. While it wasn’t quite habitable atmosphere, they were able to place some specialized Habs down there that floated on the water. They also, starting in twenty-one fifty, started mining the surface ice using ‘Stroid procedures and lasers to cut ice blocks to size. They developed a specialized tractor to pull the ice blocks up, put them in Saturn’s orbit and marked them with beacons so the colony ships could get ice to use as water and micrometeorite shields.”
Nicole asked, “Did the miners… live below the ice?”
“Yes, apparently it was quite the plumber’s job. There was considerable gravity compared to the ‘Stroids, about point five G, and no danger of being thrown off a ‘Stroid during the mining. It was mostly automated, and they did three year tours, then had a year off.”
Nicole looked at the images again, “I wonder… could this be the same technology?”
Jace nodded. “It’s on the off side of the moon, not visible from Endine, and that piece looks like a pressor. It could shove the ice blocks into space away from the planet, and nobody would be the wiser.”
Fargo, confused, asked, “What… are we going to do anything about it?”
The other three shook their heads in unison, and Jace answered, “No, we’ll do an analysis, send it in, and let the nearelephants make that decision.”
Jace glanced at the ships clock on the center console. “And we have thirty segs to the first transition. I’d suggest everyone go back to their cabins and secure for transition.”
Evie turned, a smile on her face, “I’ll do my best to make it a smooth transition, sir.”
Surprise
Fargo groaned as they spit out the far side of the hyper gate, Deity, I truly hate transitions. I can’t understand how people put up with this time after time. It’s like being torn apart and put back together every time… I wonder where we are, this time.
The IC came on with a pop, “Translation successful. We have a six div transit to the next gate. Passengers are free to move around for the next five divs. Clean up crew to compartment C-23-4 starboard, again.”
Fargo winced in sympathy, apparently Devi had even more problems with hyper translations that he did. He puked every time, and apparently missed the sick sack every time too. Fargo got up, stretched, popped his shoulder, and rotated it slowly. Not forty-one anymore. I know the surgery was successful, but dammit, it still hurts when the weather changes, or I do shit like this. He dilated the hatch and headed for the mess, glancing at his wrist comp to see if it was lunch yet.
Nicole pushed him in the back, and he jumped. “Hurry up. I need coffee.” He stopped and turned, pulling her into his arms. He kissed her, and she pushed him away. “Coffee, not kisses. Cofffeeee,” she caroled.
Fargo laughed. “Okay, okay, coffee.”
Evie purred, “I saw that PDA, Captain,” as she stalked down the passageway. “The captain would like to see you at your convenience.”
“Okay, let me get some coffee in me first.”
Evie nodded. “I will pass that along.”
After getting their coffee bulbs, Fargo and Nicole sat at one of the tables, “So, how’s the AAR coming?” Fargo asked.
“Almost completed. We’ve documented the actions, both at Feeder Three and Feeder Four, including videos, interviews, and diaries from the duty folks. We’re still working on the ambush of Lev and Shanni. The videos from GalPat’s surveillance cameras aren’t the best, and it was a block from the nearest one. At least they took out most of the attackers before that one asshole shot them in the back.”
Fargo’s face darkened, “And Jiri is still mad that I wouldn’t let them go hunting. I know their culture is pretty strict on retribution, but I had to bow to GalPat on that one. At least GalPat caught him, and they’re finally putting him on trial.”
“Shouldn’t have been a trial. He should have been shot. He admitted, hell, even bragged about it, when they arrested him!”
“I agree…” Suddenly the IC popped on, the lights flashed red then back to white. A discordant thrumming started up and Fargo tensed, remembering the last time he’d felt that. A two toned siren sounded, “General Quarters. Prepare for maneuvering. All passengers return to your cabins. Captain Fargo to the bridge, please.” It repeated twice more, but Fargo was already running for the bridge as Nicole sprinted for her cabin, the two coffee bulbs left on the table in their haste.
As Fargo slid through the hatch, Captain Jace turned to him, “Seat please, Captain. We have a situation.”
Fargo slipped into the captain’s chair as the hatch closed and he felt his ears pop as the positive pressure system came on, “What kind of situation?”
“There is a beacon from a shuttle, pinging in free space and drifting toward the jump point. There is also a target attempting to hide behind the fourth planet.
Analysis shows it to be the Ex-Ganymede, which was sent to the breakers in twenty-eight sixteen. There is also a distant track, heading for the local sun that appears to be a dead ship.”
“What is here? Wherever here is. Didn’t we go through this before with a phantom ship?”
“Nothing here, and yes, we did. It’s simply an intersection between two jump points. There was a habitable planet here many years ago, but was destroyed during a battle between GalPat and the Dragoons in the first war, by a planet buster. We are on a ballistic approach to the shuttle and see if there is anyone alive.”
“Ballistic approach?”
“Simply, we are coasting for about another thirty segs. We have not powered up since we dropped into the system.”
“What do you intend to do with the shuttle?”
“Depends on what we find. If there is anyone alive, rescue them. If not, salvage if possible. If not, vector to the sun for destruction.”
“Vector to the sun?”
“The shuttle is a hazard to navigation. It’s not noted on any star charts, and it could merge with a ship at the hyper point, which would not be good. Therefore, we toss it into the sun. That way it’s out of the way.”
“So why the GQ? And why Fleet tones?”
Jace grinned, “Why not. It’s something everyone on here is familiar with. As far as why GQ, we don’t know what the destroyer is going to do, if anything. But if people are strapped in, I can maneuver up to the human limits without risking killing someone for being out of position.”
“Human limits?”
“We can pull thirty Gs, but humans can only stand twelve to fifteen. The IGPs can offset all G forces up to fifteen, but beyond that, it’s a one for one. In other words, at twenty Gs, you would feel five Gs. Link with the ship, please.”
Fargo pulled his hands out of his lap and placed them on the armrests, and felt the tingle and ping as the ship interfaced with his neural lace. Data started flowing faster than he could functionally review it, and he had to remember the technique Jace had taught him to allow his mind to catch up. He also realized he was seeing all the inputs from the various sensors, including tracks, merge points, and the ranges to the shuttle, the destroyer, its estimated pop-up position, and a countdown clock until that pop up point was reached. All of the planets in the system, their tracks and the jump points were also displaying.
Fargo glanced at the screens and realized that they had flipped and were now showing the combat screens, as he thought of them. “Are you going to hail the shuttle?”
“Once we put it on the starboard side. With a tight beam, that points away from where the destroyer is. No need to let them have any warning.”
Fargo wondered where they could put the shuttle, if they brought it aboard, and he called up the ship’s schematic while they waited to close. There was another entire shuttle bay that he hadn’t known existed, aft of the forward bay. Nosing around the schematic, he saw another set of bays on the port side, with the aft one a much smaller bay. Just as he started to ask, the ship’s radio came on, “Unknown shuttle. Unknown shuttle. Ship Hyderabad hailing on Galactic distress. Is there…”
A female voice answered, “Oh my God. Yes, yes!” She screamed, “We’re alive! We need rescue.”
“How many souls and origin?”
“Four. Three human, one Dragoon. And one Dragoon casualty.”
Jace looked at Fargo, who shrugged. Jace nodded. “Per Galactic law, we are required to save them, regardless of origin. Will this be a problem?”
Fargo shook his head. as the relevant portion of the law popped up on the screen, “No. Touchy, but we’ll do it.”
“Shuttle, are you able to transfer?”
The female voice, much more calm replied, “Negative. Only one suit. We are the only survivors of Star Lines ship that was blown up by unknown parties when we transitioned.”
A male voice broke in, “Hyderabad, Spacer two Lherson, I have twenty segs of fuel left. I flew scooters in GalPat, but not shuttles. Also, I blew emergency disconnects to get us out of the ship.”
Captain Jace arched an eyebrow, and Fargo saw the starboard aft bay door cycle open. “Standby, we will tractor you into the bay. Please strap into couches at this time. We are one thousand yards aft and closing.”
“Now,” the female voice asked.
“Yes, now. We will pick you up as quickly as possible.”
Fargo glanced at the destroyer track and timer, noting it was at 30 seconds and counting. “What about…”
Jace’s grin was feral, “We’re hot. Both lasers are deployed, counter battery missiles are tracking, and we have good ranging to the target exposure point. If they fire, they will die. We may, or may not.”
Fargo shook his head as he watched the screens. So fucking glad I went troop. At least I wouldn’t have to wait to die, and see it coming. Spacers are bat crazy…
A disembodied voice that he thought of as voice one said, “Missiles away. Destroyer is max accel.”
Fargo suddenly felt like the weight of the world was pressing on his chest as the ship went from coasting to maximum acceleration and the rumbling growl he’d heard before increased in pitch.
A scream was heard over the radio before it was choked off.
Voice three said, “Counter battery away. Only two missiles inbound. Firing dorsal lasers in three, two, one.” The groaning sound increase in pitch, rising to nearly a scream, as the mechanical voice continued, “9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Cease fire.” There was a ‘ting’ and the loud noises stopped almost immediately, as the destroyer was blown to pieces when the containment failed on the power plant in an actinic blast.
Fargo turned to Jace and grunted, “Why. Accel. Like. This?” He gasped out.
“Just in case there is something else out there, like a stealthed missile. At this short a range, the missiles can’t turn, so anything would be a proximity explosion, not directly on us.”
“Oh…” Fargo slumped unconscious. Five segs later, the acceleration came off, and Fargo looked around wildly. “What… What happened?”
“Nothing. We’re proceeding to the jump point. You might want to go check on the people in the shuttle. I fear they are still unconscious.”
Fargo wobbled to his feet, mumbling, “I’m not much better.”
“I will send Klang and Khalil to assist. If you could provide guards?”
“Okay. Page Boykin and Jiri and tell them to meet me at the shuttle bay with two Ghorkas for guards.”
Walking slowly down to toward the shuttle bay, he knocked on Nicole’s hatch, “You moving?”
A mumbled, “Barely,” was heard.
“Might need you. We apparently rescued a marooned shuttle in the middle of killing a destroyer.”
The hatch dilated and Nicole stared at him, “Say that again?”
“C’mon. There is apparently at least human female on this shuttle, along with a Dragoon. I’m hoping Boykin is up and moving. Just in case, can you come too?”
“What in the hell? And how do you know… Never mind. Not asking.”
The IC came on with a ping, “This is the captain. We had a minor issue with what appears to be a rogue destroyer. We are sorry for the acceleration, but it was necessary to clear the area. If anyone needs medical assistance, please speak up and a medic will respond. We have four divs to the next jump.
Three segs later, they stood at the hatch to the shuttle bay with Boykin, Jiri, Devi, Klang, and Grayson. Grayson had his med kit slung over his shoulder as Klang asked, “Desired is the hatch open first, Captain?”
Boykin interrupted, “My preference would be that they crack the hatch, we get an air sample, then we go in. Can you plug an IC cable into the port by the hatch for the Captain?”
“Plug the cable, I will. Dedicated circuit, do you wish?”
“Yes, please.”
“Comply I will.” Klang went through the hatch, pulling a headset and cables from one of the storage bins adjacent to the hatch. Striding to the
shuttle, he plugged the cable in, plugged a second cable into the first one, then plugged it into a jack next to the hatch. Stepping back through, he plugged another cable into a jack, handing it to Fargo. “Live, it is. Dedicated it is.”
Fargo put the headset on, and keyed the mic. Hearing a pop, he said, “Shuttle, this is Hyderabad. Can you hear me?”
He heard a groan, but no answer. “Shuttle, this is Hyderabad. Can you hear me?”
A cough followed by a weak voice answered, “Hyd… Shuttle. Lherson. I hear you.”
Glancing a Klang, he said, “The bay is pressurized. If you’re equalized, can you go ahead and pop the hatch? We want to get an air sample before we come in.”
Another cough was heard, then, “K, give me a seg… Been in zero for… for a lot of days. Bridget and Cedar are unconscious, and Ton is really bad off.”
A little more than a seg later, they saw the aft hatch swing open, a disheveled bearded figure leaning against the door frame. Fargo turned to Khalil, “Air quality?”
Grayson looked at his data comp, “Appears to be good. Possibly some fecal matter, and… Vomit?” He cocked his head. “Yes. Vomit. I would recommend breathing masks.” He opened a compartment and pulled out seven breathing masks, “Please gear up, and we will secure the hatch as soon as we go through. Will you have the bridge run the scrubbers on high for this bay, please?” Klang nodded.
Everyone took the masks, put them on, and checked the seals. When that was done, Klang opened the hatch and they filed quickly through, with Fargo in the lead. Lherson was now sitting in the hatch, and looked at them curiously as they approached.
“Fecal matter and vomit. We’re scrubbing the air,” Fargo said. “Ethan Fargo. Supercargo. Klang is crew, Grayson is a medic, Nicole and Boykin are here for the women. Jiri and Devi to guard the Dragoon.”
Lherson coughed again, “Ton doesn’t need guarding, he needs a med comp. We’ve basically been out of water for two days. Apparently his hydration requirements are much higher than ours. He’s young too, which might have something to do with it. His mother is… well Matriarch, died after we escaped, and is in the offside airlock. She’s in a soft suit. We kept that depressurized the entire time.”
