Outpost Hell

by Jake Bible

  “Any sign of Manheim or Nord?” Ma’ha asked. “What about other members of the flight crew? Should still be, what, four or five of them left somewhere?”

  “My AI isn’t picking up life signs,” Kay said. Ma’ha growled. “What?”

  “Nothing,” Chann said. “Fill you in later. What about the bridge? No life signs up there?”

  “Not according to the scans,” Kay said. “But we’re also dealing with a hull breach right next to us while navigating trans-space. I’m not relying on any of these readings.”

  “Then maybe the Romper is better off than you think,” Chann said.

  “Don’t get stupid,” Kay replied. “The Romper is probably worse off than I think. And getting worse by the second.”

  “Fingers crossed Rosch is up there hunting for the closest wormhole portal we can drop out through,” Chann said.

  “Then what?” Ma’ha asked. “This op was supposed to be a piece of cake. Manheim didn’t have a fallback contingency. Everything should have been quiet. We hit the vault, get the goods, finish our leave like scheduled until Manheim’s source unloads the goods, then we split the take and go our separate ways. Now what do we do?”

  “We’ll ask Manheim once we’re out of trans-space,” Chann said. He waved Ma’ha’s obvious objection away. “Yeah, yeah, if he’s still alive.”

  “If he isn’t?” Ma’ha asked. “We should figure that out.”

  “Let’s live through the trip first,” Kay said. “Then we figure it out. No point in coming up with scenarios when we don’t know what we’re going to be facing on the other side of all this.”

  Chann sat straight up and gripped the console. He stared out into the hangar as he shook his head back and forth. “Oh, no. No, no, no.”

  “What is it?” Ma’ha said. “You see something?”

  “No, I don’t see a damn thing,” Chann snapped. “At least not the damn thing that matters.”

  “Speak plainly, Chann,” Ma’ha growled. “I don’t have the patience for riddles.”

  “DS1,” Chann said. “It’s gone.”

  “Yeah, we know,” Kay replied. “We watched it go.”

  “DS1!” Chann exclaimed. “The drop ship we used on the damn op!”

  “So?” Ma’ha asked.

  “Did any of you hear Manheim give the flight crew the order to unload the goods?” Chann asked.

  Neither Kay nor Ma’ha responded.

  “We lost the goods,” Chann stated. “Everyone died for nothing.”

  “Don’t say that,” Ma’ha said. “Seriously. Do not say that again.”

  “What else should I say?” Chann replied. “They died valiantly? They didn’t. They died because of bad intel and for nothing!”

  Ma’ha was up and out of his seat faster than Chann could track. The Gwreq yanked Chann from his seat and threw him across the drop ship’s bridge.

  “I said not to say that!” Ma’ha roared. “Why’d you say it? Huh? Why’d you do that?”

  “Shit, man, calm down!” Chann shouted as Ma’ha closed on him. He pushed up onto his feet and looked about for something, anything, that would slow the enraged Gwreq down. “Dude! Chill the fuck out!”

  “Guys! What is going on?” Kay asked over the comm. “What’s that noise?”

  “Me kicking Chann’s ass,” Ma’ha replied. “The next sound is me ripping his head off.”

  “Whoa! Hey! Too far, Ma’ha! Too damn far!” Chann shouted as he dove and rolled away from Ma’ha, coming up close to a supply cabinet. He punched at the latch and frowned at the lack of useful weapons inside. “Dammit!”

  “Doesn’t matter, Chann,” Ma’ha said. “Could have been an H16 in there and it wouldn’t stop me from shredding you.”

  “Ma’ha! Chann! Listen to me!” Kay yelled. “The radiation from trans-space exposure is leaking into your drop ship! I just did a scan and the shields are at ten percent outside the hangar! You’ve got TS sickness!”

  “I’m not sick,” Ma’ha said. “I feel great.”

  “I’m feeling pretty good too,” Chann said as he stood up to face Ma’ha. “Good enough to kick this pile of rock’s ass into next Wednesday.”

  “Chann? Do you hear yourself?” Kay cried. “There is no way on your best day you could do that to Ma’ha. No way in all the Hells. You need to have your AI redirect all power to the DS’s shields. Rely on your suits for life support. Chann? Do you hear me?”

  “She wants us to engage the AI again,” Chann said to Ma’ha as the two of them began to circle each other in the bridge’s tight space. “The AI, Ma’ha. You think maybe she’s in on it?”

  Ma’ha had started to swing at Chann, but he held back and frowned. “Maybe she is.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud,” Kay hissed over the comm. “Are you for real?”

  “I think she is,” Chann said. “She moved the goods from DS1. Moved them to her drop ship.”

  Ma’ha and Chann turned and looked at the view screen.

  “We’ve got our suits on,” Chann said. “We could get to her. Wouldn’t be a problem.”

  “No problem at all,” Ma’ha said.

  “Yes, it will be a problem,” Kay said. “Because you two have lost your minds. You hear me? You have lost your minds. I’m calling in an AI override. Imminent loss of life protocol.”

  “Imminent loss of life protocol initiated,” the AI announced. “Marines showing unwarranted hostility due to trans-space radiation exposure. Directing all power to drop ship shields.”

  “The thing is going to kill us!” Ma’ha yelled and rushed for the bridge door. He made it halfway before he dropped like the rock he was made of.

  “What the hell just happened?” Chann shouted. “Ma’ha!”

  “Environmental suit override initiated,” the AI said. “Private Ma’ha has been subdued for his own protection. Will you need to be subdued as well, Private Chann?”

  “Damn right I will!” Chann shouted as he rushed for the bridge door.

  He didn’t make it as far as Ma’ha before he was taken down. Several electric shocks coursed through his helmet until his eyes rolled up into his head and sweet darkness took him.

  ***

  It felt like his stomach was crawling up his throat.

  Chann’s eyes shot open as he rolled over and threw up. Unfortunately, he was still sealed into his enviro suit and the vomit had nowhere to go. Other than all over his faceplate. It became a perpetuating cycle of puking as his gag reflex kicked in. The end only came when his stomach was completely empty.

  “Here. Let me help with that,” Ma’ha said as Chann’s helmet was unsealed and pulled from his head. Puke fell everywhere. “Oh, Eight Million Gods, that’s wrong.”

  “Not using this DS again,” Kay said.

  Chann, on his hands and knees, looked up and was surprised to see her standing over him, her own helmet clutched under her arm.

  “Are we out of trans-space?” Chann asked, wiping drool from his chin.

  “We are,” Kay replied. She didn’t look too happy about it.

  “We didn’t die,” Chann said.

  “Don’t get cocky,” Kay said. “There’s still plenty of room for that.”

  “Get cleaned up,” Ma’ha said as he tossed a towel at Chann’s face. “Find a new helmet. We’re going to go hunt for everyone else.”

  Chann glanced at Ma’ha and nodded. “Sorry.”

  “About what? Our freak out?” Ma’ha replied. “Yeah, me too. You’re lucky I didn’t snap you in half.”

  “Don’t even think of pretending he couldn’t,” Kay said before Chann could reply.

  “I wasn’t going to say anything,” Chann said.

  “AI? What’s the Romper’s status?” Kay asked.

  “Minimal to no life support in all regions,” the AI replied.

  “The bridge?” Kay asked.

  “Intact,” the AI said. “Full life support available. Unfortunately, that is all the information I have. Sensors are down and I cannot raise Pilo
t Rosch on the comm.”

  “Then that’s where we head first,” Kay said as she slid her helmet back on. “We make sure Rosch and Teffurg are good then we go look for Manheim and Nord.”

  “Yeah, yeah, cool,” Chann said as he got to his feet.

  He moved slowly to a storage cabinet and popped it open. He snagged the spare helmet that sat on one of the shelves and pulled it over his head.

  “Still smells like puke,” Chann said.

  “You got some down in your collar,” Ma’ha said. “Better get used to it. Gonna be a long time before we can hit the showers. If there are showers left on this ship.”

  “Would you like me to answer that inquiry for you?” the AI asked.

  “No,” Ma’ha said.

  “Come on,” Kay said. “We’ve got a lot of damaged ship between us and the bridge. We need to get a move on.”

  “Lead the way,” Chann said.

  4

  The Romper’s condition was about as bad as they’d expected.

  “Another dead end,” Kay said as she stood a meter away from the abyss that should have been the Deck Eight starboard corridor. Across the abyss was a sealed bulkhead, adding insult to injury. “Double back two turns. We can climb up to the bridge from there.”

  “That’s what you said about this way,” Ma’ha replied.

  “I am able to scan ahead for you, if you would like,” the AI said.

  “Why’d you bring it with us?” Ma’ha asked.

  “Why do all AIs sound alike?” Chann asked.

  “It is helpful and it’s their programming,” Kay said, answering both questions. “Can your scans penetrate this far into the ship? We’re not even close to the hangar anymore.”

  “I have managed to use the few sensors left active within the Romper,” the AI answered. “The signal is not strong, I cannot give you specific details, but I will be able to tell you if your way is blocked or not.”

  “Do it,” Kay ordered.

  In seconds, each of their faceplates lit up with crude schematics of what was left of the transport ship. Half the decks were sealed and impassable. The other half were damaged, but accessible. The bridge was still shrouded in mystery, a blank against the schematic’s red lines.

  “I was right,” Kay said. “We can climb from this point and get to the bridge.”

  “If there is a bridge,” Chann said. “Not looking promising.”

  “That is because all sensors are down in that area,” the AI said. “I could not extrapolate the condition of the ship within that region.”

  “Any guesses?” Ma’ha asked. “Use that computer brain and give us some idea of what we’ll find.”

  “I do not make guesses, Private Ma’ha,” the AI said. “That would not be a productive use of my processing abilities.”

  “Then we climb,” Ma’ha said. He turned and started walking, not waiting for the others.

  “What a great idea,” Kay said, her voice thick with sarcasm.

  “Are you getting snippy?” Ma’ha asked.

  “Did you just use the word ‘snippy’?” Chann asked.

  “What of it?” Ma’ha responded as they came to the second turn and were faced with a pitch-black corridor.

  “Just funny hearing a Gwreq use that word,” Chann said.

  “Why is that funny? What does my vocabulary have to do with my race?” Ma’ha asked. “I sometimes wonder about you, Chann. I don’t think you’re all there.”

  “None of us are all there,” Chann replied. “We’re Marines. We have to be crazy to do this job when most of the galaxy has forgotten we even exist now that the War is over.”

  “Will you two shut up?” Kay snapped. “The constant bickering is really pissing me off.”

  “Wouldn’t want to do that,” Ma’ha said.

  “Now who’s being snippy?” Chann laughed. Just as he took a step and nearly stepped into a breach in the corridor’s deck. “Shit!”

  His arms pinwheeled and he started to float forward, but Ma’ha grabbed him by the shoulder and held him in place.

  “Pull me back, asshole!” Chann shouted.

  “Hold on,” Ma’ha said. “Look.”

  Chann was about to protest, but stopped as he looked down. Or up. Hard to tell with the grav generators out.

  “That’s open space,” Chann said.

  “Yeah,” Ma’ha replied. “Wasn’t on the schematic.”

  “What?” Kay asked. She yanked Chann back and out of her way then peered over the edge. “Shit. That wasn’t on the schematics. AI? What’s the deal?”

  “I am sorry for the error,” the AI responded. “As I stated previously, the amount of sensors I can draw data from is severely limited. I will try to extrapolate better. Please allow me to rescan and amend my previous schematic.”

  The three Marines’ faceplates lit up with new maps of what was left of the ship.

  “Bloody hell,” Chann said. “The ship has more holes than Tersch cheese. What happened? This isn’t all from the Skrang fighters.”

  “Unfortunately, most of this damage was sustained during trans-space travel,” the AI said. “There was quantum tearing upon the Romper’s structure.”

  “Quantum tearing?” Chann asked. “Is that a thing?”

  “It is, Private Chann,” the AI replied. “And very rare.”

  “Shit,” Kay said. “That means the parts of the ship affected are molecularly unstable.” She pointed at the edge. “We’re going to find more of these as the ship keeps falling apart.”

  “Correct, Private Kay,” the AI said. “It may take several hours, possibly days, before the extent of the tearing is known. Until then, the ship will continue to disintegrate. This is not a safe environment for you.”

  “Do not need an AI to tell me that,” Ma’ha said.

  He took a couple steps back then ran and leapt over the gap in the corridor. The lack of gravity meant he overshot the opposite edge by a couple meters before he could get a foot down on the deck and lock his mag boot in place. He spun around then stabilized and waved at the others.

  “Come on, I’ll catch you,” he said. “We can’t stay next to that.”

  “I am rerouting you,” the AI said. “I have taken into account the quantum tearing and marked the areas that will be most affected.”

  “We still climb,” Kay said and pointed at a narrow hatch set into the far wall behind Ma’ha. “Pray to the Eight Million Gods that the bridge is still there.”

  “Readings say systems are working within the bridge,” the AI said. “Still no audio or visual confirmation of its current state, but the ship continues to respond to the bridge’s controls.”

  “Respond?” Kay asked. “Someone is working the controls?”

  “It appears so,” the AI replied.

  “Okay, let’s get some things straight,” Kay said. “When you have information like that, report it. Understood?”

  “Understood, Private Kay,” the AI replied. “My apologies.”

  Kay jumped the gap then Chann. They proceeded to the hatch and stared at the ladder that seemed to go up and up forever. They had a very long climb ahead of them.

  “Ladies first,” Ma’ha said.

  “Suck my dick, Ma’ha,” Kay replied.

  She grabbed the rungs and began to climb.

  ***

  “Hold up,” Chann said as he rested with his arms crooked over one of the ladder’s rungs. “This is nuts. How can it be so hard when there’s no gravity?”

  “You do not feel the gravity because of your mag boots and gloves,” the AI said. Its voice had become staticky and garbled, but the Marines could still make out what it was trying to tell them. “There are pockets of gravity in and around the ship.”

  “Whoa, around? What does that mean?” Ma’ha asked. “How can there be pockets of gravity around the ship? The grav generators only work within the ship.”

  “I’m guessing it’s the quantum tearing,” Kay said.

  “Your guess is correct,” the AI
replied. “The quantum tearing has allowed the environment within the ship to leak outside of the hull where there are significant breaches.”

  “Good to know,” Kay said. “Can you map them?”

  “No, I cannot,” the AI replied. “I am sorry, but sensors are…”

  The Marines waited, but the static had grown too strong until the AI’s comm connection finally cut off.

  “On our own,” Chann said.

  “Not a bad thing,” Ma’ha said.

  “Keep climbing,” Kay said as she continued up the ladder.

  Chann took a deep breath and followed closely with Ma’ha right behind him. It took them thirty more minutes before they reached the hatch that exited onto the bridge level. Kay spun the hatch’s wheel and gave it a hard shove. It swung out quickly and slammed against the wall next to it.

  “Hey,” Nordanski said, standing in the corridor just outside the bridge’s door. He was leaning against the wall, fully suited, holding his H16 in a casual grip. “Glad you guys made it.”

  “Manheim?” Kay asked as she clambered up out of the hatch and moved out of the way so Chann and Ma’ha could follow.

  “Manheim is borked to Hell, but he’ll live,” Nordanski said.

  “What’s with the carbine?” Ma’ha asked. “Did some Skrang follow us through the wormhole?”

  “No,” Nordanski said as he pushed off from the wall and motioned for them to follow him. “Manheim is being paranoid.”

  “Why?” Kay asked. “If there aren’t any Skrang, then what’s to be paranoid about?”

  “This system isn’t empty,” Nordanski said. “I’ll explain when we’re on the bridge. Follow me.”

  “Aren’t we going through there?” Chann asked, pointing at the bridge doors.

  “They don’t open,” Nordanski replied. “We have to use the emergency hatch.”

  “That’s outside the ship,” Kay said.

  “Yep,” Nordanski agreed. “The transport’s AI is working on the doors, but there’s something about quantum whatevers messing everything up.”

  “Quantum tearing,” Kay said.

  “That’s it,” Nordanski said as he approached an airlock that had more warnings stenciled across it than a child’s fission science experiment. “Helmets tight?”