by B. C. James
The bridge wasn’t as dark as the rest of the ship. A small amount of ambient light from the cosmos trickled through the viewport. The Christmas-tree-like illumination of the control panel was absent, and long shadows marked the location of the dead switches.
The Pescado Rojo loomed out in front of him as he sat down in the pilot’s chair. He gazed out at the dark lifeless hulk hanging in the vast void of space, so far from a safe harbor. It was only a matter of time before it would be his again, and when it was, he vowed to make Sharp suffer for his sins.
18
Blow the Hatch
Sharp slunk down in his command chair. It felt good to be home, even if that home was a broken down freighter. The backlight of the display screen strapped to his wrist washed his face in a bright white glow, contrasting the dim red illumination on the bridge as he checked the battery backup power of the ship. It was already under fifty percent and dropping faster than it should. The power cells must’ve been damaged when the nuclear explosion dropped them out of warp. With main power out, the battery backup was all that was keeping life support online, but it provided for little else. They had no propulsion, no communications, no sensors, and when the batteries ran out in a few hours, they would have no air.
His bruised face wore a grim expression as he considered the situation. He’d reclaimed his ship, but what good was that if it turned out to be his and his crew’s coffin. He shivered. The heating had been cut down to the bare minimum to conserve power, and he wished he’d stopped by his cabin to fetch his jacket.
As he thought about his warm jacket going unused in his empty cabin, an idea came to him. “Morales,” he called out toward the pilot’s console. “Come with me. There’s no sense in keeping the bridge or any other unnecessary area habitable. We can’t do much from here anyway without power. Let’s close off all nonessential locations and cut the life support to them. That’ll help preserve backup power a little longer and give Briggs a little more time to get main power back online.”
“Alright, Cap, good idea. Let’s hope they don’t need it,” she replied and followed him out the door.
He took a longing look at his lifeless bridge and slid the hatch closed with a hint of reluctance. He sighed as the latch twisted shut. A nagging feeling that this might be the last time he saw his bridge came over him. He told himself it wasn’t true and pushed the thought to the back of his mind.
After he’d retrieved his jacket, they sealed up his quarters. Next, they reorganized the eight remaining crew from the Endurance, along with Commander Cormac, into three cabins. Cormac made no attempt to plead her case as they moved her. She hung her head as if she’d accepted her mistakes and was prepared to face the consequences. Alice, on the other hand, was quite reluctant to be relocated, only pacified after Morales mentioned the airlock again. After supplying the detainees with plenty of rations and blankets to shield from the cold, they sealed them in and cut power to the rest of the habitat section.
They left the darkened crew quarters behind and stepped into the cargo corridor. Morales locked the hatch behind them. Then, using the manual controls next to the panel Pierce had inadvertently broken while trying to smash Sharp’s skull, she shut off the life support to the rest of the forward section.
Sharp looked down at the display strapped to his wrist. The battery level was still under fifty percent, but the rate at which it was dropping had slowed. The plan was working. If only a little battery life was gained, it might give them the extra time they needed to restore power to the ship before they all suffocated and turned into human ice sickles.
As they made their way through the long corridor, Sharp looked around at the array of doors and ladders leading to the cargo bays. He knew the energy supply to them automatically cut off when the ship went to backup, and he hoped the module’s standalone battery systems would be enough to hold over the more delicate and perishable goods until they could restore main power. The thought was fleeting though, and he immediately chastised himself for worrying about the condition of his load when the fate of his crew hung by a thread. Also, there no sense in stressing over cargo if they’d all be dead in a few hours anyway.
They’d reached the end of the walkway, and as Sharp moved to open the exit hatch, a faint buzzing vibrated through the metal bulkheads around them.
Sharp turned to Morales. Her feet were frozen in place. She cocked her head to one side and pointed it to the ceiling, trying to place the sound. “You hear that, Cap?” She asked.
He nodded silently and listened, discerning the direction it came from.
“You think it’s the power coming back online?”
“I don’t think so,” he replied. “Sounds like it’s coming from the port side of the ship.” He nodded to the bulkhead behind her, drawing both their eyes as the sound intensified.
“That’s bay three,” Morales pointed out, her eyes narrowing.
“Dammit, I told Briggs to seal it up. Come on, let’s check it out,” he exclaimed, rushing for the entrance to bay three. He pushed the door open and barged into the unheated bay. His breath floated in the air, and his broken nose ached as the cold bit at his face. The clank of the latch echoed in the cavernous room as Morales closed the door behind them. Darkness overtook him as the light from the corridor snuffed out. The red emergency lighting was out, and as his vision adjusted, the faint blue glow of the containment field drew his eyes to the far end of the bay.
The noise was louder now, almost deafening, and punctuated by a growling hiss, like the firing of an inert gas thruster in atmosphere. “It’s from the bay door,” Morales yelled over the growing roar.
Beyond the energy field, a faint glowing red spot appeared in the center of the metal door. Sharp cocked his head to the side, analyzing what he saw. The spot spread and intensified, transitioning from red to orange then white. Sharp pulled Morales against the wall and shielded her as a blinding beam of energy tore through the door. Ruptured metal cascaded down in molten globs which burst into showers of sparks as they hit the deck. Pulsations rippled through the energy field as the beam struck it. The field emitters flickered, struggling to dissipate the energy of the beam. The focal point of the ripples moved upward, following the beam as it traveled in an arc, slicing through the bay door.
“They’re trying to cut their way in,” Morales yelled.
The emitters flickered with greater frequency, threatening to fail. “The control booth,” Sharp shouted as he pushed her toward the small room. They would be safe there if the containment field failed and depressurized the bay. Morales ducked inside, and Sharp sealed the control booth door, locking them in. They watched through the tall windows as the beam sliced through the bay door. It had completed a half circle and continued on its destructive path. Sharp looked down at the console and found the containment field controls. He tried to shore up its integrity by drawing power from the battery systems in the other cargo modules. The ominous flickering ceased, and the field stabilized. His trick had worked, and he allowed his shoulders to relax a bit.
“Now what, Cap?” Morales asked.
He gave a long exhale. “Well, I’d say we jettison this whole cargo module, but that’s probably not a good idea since we’re inside of it at the moment.”
“Yeah, let’s not do that. Besides, they’ll just cut into another cargo bay. We need to put whatever’s using that cutting beam out of commission for good.”
They stood in silence and watched the beam while it circled around, approaching its starting point. The field emitters wavered, and Sharp reached down to divert more power.
“Captain, wait,” Morales blurted out, grabbing his arm before he could work the controls. “Drop the field.”
He looked at her like she was crazy, but her face was stern, and her eyes were trained on his intently. “What? Are you serious?”
She nodded to him. “Yeah, drop it. The atmo will rush through the hole in the door, and whatever’s on the other side will be blown away.”
&nb
sp; He had little time to consider the idea as the cutting beam neared the completion of its circle. He had to act now then deal with the consequences later. Sharp mashed the large red button on the console, and the blue field collapsed, retracting into its emitters with a flash. No longer inhibited by the energy field, the cutting beam shot through the bay and struck the far wall. Sizzling and smoking, it burned through the thick metal bulkhead. Air rushed through the cut in the bay door, and the beam slanted up at an angle as the pressure pushed the circular piece of metal out. The uncut portion of the hole acted as a hinge, and it popped open like a soup can. It smacked into whatever was on the other side, sending the cutting beam veering wildly toward the booth.
Morales and Sharp dove to the floor as the beam passed over the windows of the booth. Looking up, Sharp saw a blackened line angled over the glass. The beam hadn’t lingered on the thick panels long enough to burn all the way through, but it had gouged a deep fissure into their outer surface. He pulled himself up in time to witness the bay door buckle as the air pressure overwhelmed the hole. The door bowed out, and the sides ripped free, sending the twisted metal square twirling out into space. Sharp braced himself on the control panel as the ship rocked from the explosive decompression. He winced as the door bounced off the dome of the Dyson collector, leaving a long deep gash in the red hull.
The shattered remnants of a robotic drone drifted off the opposite direction. Tiny sparks and electrical flashes fizzled around its ruined body. “What the hell was that thing?” Morales asked.
He shrugged. “Best guess… some kind of robotic cutting device.” Looking out the gaping hole left by the bay door, he could see the Endurance aft of the rear warp ring, moving away slowly. He squinted, attempting to make sense of the scene. Was Pierce repositioning for another boarding attempt? Had he restored control to the ship? Sharp had instructed Arnold to sabotage the main power relays before they’d left. Had they been able to repair his handiwork so quickly?
Morales interrupted his thoughts, giving him his answer. “The force of the blast must’ve pushed us forward,” she informed him. “We’re drifting now. Good thing there isn’t much to hit out here.”
“I never thought I’d be glad to be adrift,” he replied, watching the other ship shrink away. “But at least it’ll put some distance between us and the Endurance in case they try to pull something like that again.”
A cracking pop drew his attention. The cutting laser hadn’t penetrated the thick glass windows of the booth, but it had left a deep blackened rut where it passed over. Now, with the pressure inside the booth pushing out into the vacuum of the cargo bay, the glass groaned as cracks grew on the damaged panes, spider-webbing out from the gouge.
“Now what do we do, Cap?” Morales asked as she saw the growing striations.
Sharp stayed silent as he hit the button to regenerate the containment field. He considered their options as the glass bowed out, threatening to shatter and deprive them of the precious oxygen left in the booth. With the power shut off to the life support systems in the cargo modules, they had no way to pressurize the bay. The battery system was still operational, but the drain from the cutting laser had depleted the cells, and they only had enough juice left to power the containment field.
The glass creaked, and he looked up at the window. Fault lines crisscrossed the entire pane. “We’re gonna have to make a run for it,” he said to Morales.
She frowned at him. “I was afraid you’d say that.”
“Would you rather stay here, Ensign?” he asked, waving to the cracked and concave glass.
She closed her eyes and shook her head in reply.
“Okay, follow me,” he ordered, moving to the door. “There’s an emergency O2 station on the wall outside. On the count of three, I’ll swing the door open as fast as I can. Get ready to run out and grab a mask. It won’t protect you from the cold but at least you’ll have air to breathe.”
“What about you?” she asked, looking at him with fear in her eyes.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be right behind you. Just worry about getting your mask on. Then run for the exit door as fast as you can. We won’t last long out in that cold.”
She nodded and moved into position in front of the door as she inhaled and exhaled deeply, oxygenating her blood as much as possible before bursting out into the airless vacuum. She gave Sharp a thumbs up, indicating she was ready, and he began the countdown.
“One.”
She lowered her head and crouched down like a sprinter preparing for a race.
“Two.”
She exhaled so the pressure in her lungs wouldn’t tear them apart when she entered the vacuum.
“Three.”
Sharp twisted the latch and yanked open the door. The escaping pressure snapped the glass windows back in, sending them shattering into a million pieces which rained down on them as Morales sprinted out the door. The rush of air pushed her from behind, upsetting her balance. She tumbled forward head first and rolled onto her back then sprang to her feet as Sharp darted out the door behind her.
She looked around, disoriented from her fall. Sharp grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the wall. He ripped open the small metal cabinet affixed to the bulkhead. Four full face masks hung in the open cabinet. He grabbed two, passing one to Morales. She pulled the mask on, fumbling with the rubber straps as they caught on her ponytail.
Sharp donned his mask, wincing as it dragged over his fractured nose. Morales still stood next to him when he opened his eyes. “Run,” He yelled, the sound muffled by his mask, as he pushed her hard toward the exit. She stumbled to the side from the force then turned to run for the door.
The frigid airless vacuum stung at Sharp’s exposed skin, biting his ears and nipping at his fingers as he ran behind Morales. He could easily outpace her shorter legs, but he knew with her smaller body she would be more susceptible to the cold, so he lagged behind to help her along if necessary. He panted into the mask as he ran, fogging up the plastic. With each breath, the fog advanced up the mask then receded, momentarily blocking his vision, the door becoming closer with each rhythmic retreat of the condensation. The exit seemed a lot farther than he’d remembered.
Morales reached the door ahead of him and gave a hard tug on the latch. It slipped from her cold fingers, and she fell back on her tail bone. Sharp tried to grab her as she dropped, but his numb hands wouldn't catch on. Unable to stand back up, she rolled onto her hands and knees and crawled for the door. Sharp stepped around her and grabbed the latch. The cold had permeated his fingers, and he couldn’t get a firm grasp on the handle. Thinking quickly, he looped his arm around it, placing the lever in the crook of his elbow. He heaved at the latch, using the strength of his shoulder, and it rotated free, the attached bolts retracting from the jamb with a welcome thunk.
The door flew open as the pressure from the corridor pushed into the bay. Sharp tried to leap clear, but the heavy door hit him in the face, forcing the mask into his broken nose. He fell to the floor, cradling his face through the mask. Morales nudged his shoulder to get his attention, and together, they crawled through the open door.
As they tumbled through the hatch and into the corridor, red flashing lights surrounded them, warning of the pressure loss. Sharp struggled to his feet as Morales collapsed on her back. He staggered to the door and pulled it shut with his stiff, claw like hands. The door struck the jamb and bounced open defiantly. With another heave, he pulled it tight and threw his weight against the latch. It clicked into place and the red strobe ceased as the corridor pressurized.
Exhausted, Sharp slunk down against the door and carefully lifted the mask off his face. He tucked his frigid hands inside his jacket, letting the warmth from his armpits flow into them. Morales crawled over and sat up next to him, shivering in her thin flight suit. He pulled off his jacket then draped it around her shoulders, and together they sat in silence, recovering from the cold.
Morales stirred next to him as she removed her mas
k. The rubber straps pulled strands of brown hair free from her ponytail, and they dangled lazily across her face. “Come on,” she said between gasping breaths as she rose to her feet. “Let’s get to engineering. Arnold and Briggs are probably wondering what the hell all that racket was.”
19
Collision Course
Pierce smiled as he peered through the viewport on the bridge of the Endurance. The mining drone was nearly finished slicing a circular hole through the cargo bay door, and soon he would be able to board the Pescado Rojo and dispose of Captain Sharp once and for all. He hoped Sharp’s death would be the last obstacle standing in the way of his mission. He suspected with Sharp out of the picture the rest of the crew would be easily cowed into submission. If they resisted, he would kill them one by one until they complied. He would start with Cormac. She’d pledged her loyalty to him, only to flip her allegiance the moment Sharp had reappeared. Her betrayal enraged him. He expected unflinching obedience from his followers.
As the laser’s arc came about and neared its starting point, a mist of air erupted from the hole, the moisture in the escaping air crystallizing as it met the cold vacuum. The drone lurched back as the cut section of door flapped open, smacking into it. The laser shot off into space before snuffing out as the drone attempted to regain its stability. As the drone leveled out, the entire bay door sheared off and smashed into it.
Pierce sat in stunned silence, following the damaged drone as it listed off into the blackness. A glint caught the corner of his eye. Turning, he saw the mangled bay door ricochet off the Pescado Rojo’s hull. As he watched the door tumble out of sight, he realized his objective was complete. The cargo bay sat wide open. He had his way back in.
His revelry was short lived, however, as he realized the blast had pushed the Rojo away from him. His prey was escaping, slipping through his fingers once more. He couldn’t let Sharp get away. He had to get back to the Rojo. But how? He looked down to the controls. Their dark lights mocked him. The Rojo grew smaller in the viewport. He had to think of something. His mind flashed to the lander. He could use it to fly over to the other ship, but that would mean leaving the embryo containment unit behind. His mind was torn between the choice of taking the lander and abandoning the embryos. He’d promised he would never leave them again, and in the end, his promise won out. He wouldn’t desert them, there had to be another way.
