Lisa's muscles strained and her back ached for a moment before her and the entire squad were pressed to the deck under the force of more gravity than she'd ever experienced. They were utterly immobilized. She strained to see her hand scanner but couldn't. It was difficult to breathe, like something was sitting on her chest and her knee was twisted at an awkward angle.
Liam stepped into the gravity field and non-nonchalantly collected their weapons and equipment, placing them in a pile. The door behind him opened and his engineering team got to work on something she couldn't discern. When the Engineer collected Lisa's sidearm, scanner and other tools he carefully repositioned her leg so her knee wasn't under such a terrible strain. "That's got to be a relief," he said to her comfortingly. He did the same for everyone else, straightening them and making them reasonably comfortable. "I'm going to leave you here for a while, there are other things to attend to and I can't have you under foot. I'm sorry it's come to this, but in a way you're lucky," he told them. "I'm the resident humanitarian. The rest of your people are going to start running into Triton soldiers soon."
Nott managed an angry, incoherent wail from where he was sprawled, pinned to the floor.
"Don't try to get the last word in, just lay there and concentrate on breathing," the Engineer told him. Lisa could hear him smiling around the words.
Chapter 15
Tamber Arrival
"Are you all right Minh?" Came Ayan's voice over the comm.
They had been in hyperspace for five hours, and for the whole time Minh felt naked, vulnerable, like he was in nothing but his vacsuit and at any moment the energetic particles that covered the hull of his small fighter could dissipate unevenly and he'd be torn to shreds. His instruments told him everything was fine. When he turned off his head's up display and looked to his right, his left, he saw the dark confines of the cockpit around him. He could feel the adjusting rests on his stomach, his chest, his back, legs and shoulders. They fit snugly, perfectly, but it didn't help. Every time he brought up his head's up display all he saw was a gossamer of statistics and stars. He tried to think of something else, anything else, but his mind wouldn’t settle on anything.
His breaths came in shorter and shorter gasps, he could feel sweat collecting as quickly as it could be soaked away by his vacsuit. Then an image came to him; Ashley, sitting at the bar with her drink after she’d stopped by his table in the Pilot’s Den. He had one brief conversation with her, but would never forget her smile, her dark eyes, or the light curiosity she'd approached him with. That's all it was, he was sure, curiosity, but if he had just approached her, taken the time to look her up on Crewcast during his off hours, or chat with her during a simulation, there might have been more.
From her last known condition and the situation the Triton was in he knew it was more than likely that she was in serious danger. He tried to withdraw from the mental image of her laying somewhere in the Triton’s infirmary, helpless, in a medical coma that could last hours or days.
The rumbling of his engines burning less than two meters beneath his feet lessened. He was reminded once again of where he was, and panic threatened to overtake him. Minh's years alone, drifting at speed in space in a compartment that may fall apart at any time had jaded him to the risks of space travel, or so he thought.
There was a constant fear that his refuge from the destruction in the Blue Belt would fly apart as it drifted aimlessly through space. It would threaten to render him senseless, and yes, there were a few times when he sat with his face in his hands, sure he was past saving, that he’d be lost for all time, and that it might be faster if he opened his drifting home to space, got it all over with. Reduced to a shuddering, mumbling, useless thing he would remain curled up on the deck for hours. The few times it happened he fell into a fitful sleep and would wake up feeling angry at himself for letting his fears get the best of him.
Later in therapy he had difficulty understanding how he could lose control so completely, become so useless. Until the moment came, until the panic threatened to overtake him, he couldn't understand how it happened.
The knot in his belly, his quivering limbs and the pressure in his head, the rising panic made it easy to understand those times. He checked his own statistics every few seconds, glancing, cursing himself for being so weak. His heart was racing, his breathing was becoming more shallow, increasing in speed.
"Minh, are you all right?" came Ayan's voice again.
He worked his dry mouth, struggling to force an answer and finally it came. "No."
"We'll be out of hyperspace in a moment, just hang on," she reassured.
Minh's eyes flicked to the small portrait of her in the corner, concerned and friendly. He nodded, a reflex. "Stupid, God I'm so stupid," he muttered to himself, at first in reference to nodding but then he remembered who he was, what he was supposed to be; the Wing Commander. "Can't keep myself together, how am I supposed to take care of a few dozen pilots? Jonas should have found someone else, I'm a mess, it's too soon." Every word was punctuated with an inhale.
"I'm going to put him out," Jake said as he brought up Minh's profile on his command and control unit. "Try and slave his ship to your Comm."
"I don't have access," Ayan replied from the rear cockpit seat of the Clever Dream.
"You should, I gave it to you myself."
She brought up the status of Minh's sleek Ramiel fighter and saw that it was just finishing its hyperspace deceleration cycle. "I'm ready," she said as she assigned it to follow the Clever Dream at a safe distance. It would be close enough to exit hyperspace and not collide with any of the ships behind.
"All right, just relax Minh, don't do anything you'll regret," Jake said as he administered sedatives remotely.
To Jake and Ayan's relief Minh's life signs normalized, he would be unconscious for several minutes, enough time for him to revert to a calm mental state. "That was unexpected," Jake said quietly.
"I should have seen it coming," Ayan whispered.
"After drifting alone for years, you're right. Do you think he'll be all right to land?"
"I don't know. I mean, if what he was muttering is true, that he feels naked, then probably not. Could you enter an atmosphere with his fighter moored to the ship, Lewis?" Ayan asked the ship AI.
"I know my seals and clamps will survive the heat and shear, but his fighter won't. Ramiel fighters have a soft, fabric seal that would survive the temperatures but not the stress of atmospheric entry."
"Slick, this is Hitman," Jake addressed through the comm.
"I love that call sign for you, it just fits," Ayan winked.
"Slick here. What can I do for you?"
"Can your Uriel clamp onto Minh's Ramiel and enter an atmosphere?"
"Sure can. Might get a little bumpy, but both fighters will be fine."
"All right, Ronin will be coming aboard the Clever Dream then we'll be touching down on Tamber."
"Captain, is the Wing Commander all right?"
"He'll be fine. His command unit was damaged and dosed him with a few milligrams of Taustim. We had to sedate him to get his heart rate down," Jake replied. Anyone who wasn't interested in disproving his white lie would never know the difference.
"Yikes, that explains what I was seeing in the squad status display. I'll stand ready. Slick out."
"And I'll make sure Minh gets a replay of your fantastic cover story as soon as he's lucid," Ayan added.
Lieutenant Garrison put his hands on the Clever Dream's flight controls as he watched the main pilot's display. He had forged a surprisingly uncomplicated bond with Lewis, the pair seemed to get along quietly and communicated well. Jake had witnessed one of their quiet debates already, and listening to them set the priority list for the ship maintenance was nothing short of amusing. The young Lieutenant would counter any of Lewis' objections with pure logic, giving in on some points when it made sense and sticking to others when he could. It was more a conversation than an argument, and it kept both the minder o
f the Clever Dream and her AI entertained. "I'll keep the Wing Commander's secret, Captain, don't worry. Nothing unusual about losing it when you notice how empty and dangerous space is. I tossed my breakfast on my first space walk."
"Almost everyone does," Ayan comforted.
"Three times."
"I don't know if that makes you tenacious or just special," Captain Valance replied with a sideways grin.
Lieutenant Garrison couldn't help but smile as he watched the small fleet's formation and deceleration rates. "We're emerging into normal space in three seconds, should be right in the middle of empty space."
Jake sat down in the copilot's position and rechecked the position of the other ships and fighters. They hadn't drifted more than a few millimetres, amazing considering the condition of most of the vessels. The Clever Dream wasn't pushing herself, of all the ships it had the most thrust. If all the Samson's engines were operational it would have been the most powerful, since Jake's old ship was originally designed as a cargo hauler.
The group of ships emerged from hyperspace and just as Lieutenant Garrison had predicted, they were at the edge of the solar system, speeding past the eleventh planet, a dark gas giant that appeared marble sized in the forward viewport.
“Ayan, there’s something I should tell you before we get in touch with anyone,” Jake started. “I’ve signed the Clever Dream, the Samson, and the fighters’ registries over to you. I’ve also made capture slips for all the raider ships so you’re listed as the commanding officer during the action. They’re a day off, but that’s not unusual for deep space ship captures.”
Ayan cleared her throat, “So what you’re saying is-“
“I’m in hiding, you’re in charge.”
“You left telling me to the last minute so I couldn’t refuse.”
“Who else would I trust? Everyone who served on the Samson is wanted.”
“Minh, maybe? He served in the Freeground Infantry, and he’s your Wing Commander.”
“Right, but you have years of officer training, more years in service and at least a few people from the Triton won’t be surprised if you take the lead.”
“You and everyone else who has more experience out here will be helping me every step of the way,” Ayan told him.
“Absolutely. Unless you have to go somewhere that’s equipped with DNA sniffers, but we can figure that out later.”
“Oh, lovely,” Ayan groaned. “All right, sucking it up and getting ready to take charge.”
Jake glanced over his shoulder to catch a glance of Ayan, who was flushed to her hairline as she looked up some last minute details on her command unit. He couldn’t help but grin as he returned his attention to the tactical display. "Everyone checks in fine. Laura says the Samson will be able to make a landing, they were able to brace all the weak points in hyperspace. I don't want to know what they had to tear apart for the metal, but at least they managed."
"Minh's starting to wake up," Ayan announced quietly. "I'll update him and tell him to come aboard."
He checked his long time friend's vitals and breathed a sigh of relief. He was back to normal, humour included. Minh managed to add the message; "’A moment spent leaning on others can lift a lifetime of egotistical weight gain from one’s shoulders.’ I feel as light as a feather, thanks guys! Mind the road." Jake looked up at the tactical display and noticed three navnet requests appear on screen. Each came with it’s own nationality, Confederation, Omiri and Carthan. All but the Carthan Navnet were demanding a fee. Left with little choice he selected it and viewed their managed territory.
At a closer glance, the situation in the Rega Gain system looked much as it should, according to the information they already had. There were active fire fights and areas of lingering resistance scattered throughout the solar system. Most of them were hot spots were United Core World Confederates were refusing to abandon settlements and a few older cities, while others weren’t as well marked, offering few details. "All right, it looks like Tamber is still our best option. There’s still a little fighting on one side of the moon, but not as much as in some other places."
"I know, I'm confirming that by reviewing the available propaganda now," Lewis replied.
"The good news is the Carthans have several open ground areas that are marked for safe landing. This one looks pretty clear," Jake brought up a broad section of land in the middle of one of the Tamber moon's southern continents. "No conflict markers for several thousand kilometres either."
"I can verify that. The Carthans are assuring people that the Tamber moon is open for business, most vessels without a permit are being directed to the Dower Wastes so they can land while they get proper clearance to set down in a recognized port. Clearance for orbit isn’t available for any part of the solar system.”
"Wonderful. Well, the Carthans are coming in at the right price and we need a place to set down and get organized anyway. Contact Tamber Control and set us up for a landing. Remember, if anyone asks, Ayan's the Captain," Jake smiled.
"I have to ask, Jacob; why don't you assign me to Captain the Clever Dream myself?" Asked Lewis.
"Because someone would probably slag you if they discovered an AI in complete control of a ship. Oh, that reminds me; try not to behave like an artificial intelligence. The last thing we need is someone tracking you and this ship back to Pandem."
"So you’re telling me to pretend I’m a human."
"That’s right.”
“Okay, should be easy. I’ll speak more slowly and unnecessarily add details about my personal life to the conversation while complaining about something I cannot change, like the weather, or my height.”
“That ought to do it,” Lieutenant Garrison laughed. “I’ll listen in.”
When Jake came down the ladder leading to the lower airlock Minh was making sure the hatch leading to his Ramiel fighter was secure. He could see he was still shaking even in the dim light of the small compartment. "You all right?" he asked quietly.
Sitting down on a short bench beside a tool locker, Minh retracted his headpiece. The thin impact absorption plates folded into each other and fit into his collar. He exhaled and lowered his face into his hands. At the sound of the clamps releasing his Ramiel fighter he twitched, but didn't look up. "I should have known I wasn’t ready. Sorry Jake."
"Ayan told me you had to take some time after you came back."
"More like, spend several weeks in containment while therapists rushed me through reintegration therapy."
Jake sat down on the opposite bench from Minh, who had taken his head out of his hands. He looked tired, older somehow. "Why'd they rush?" He asked quietly.
"I didn't want to be there. I had friends, my sisters, and nieces and nephews I'd never met and I couldn't wait to see them. After a couple weeks they cut me loose. They checked in a few times a day from there. Everything was a little too loud, I felt a little unsteady but it was better than being paced by a panel of doctors. I was just happy to be in touch, even if it was so scary sometimes, you know?"
Jake couldn't help but think of his time on the Samson, before he had memories to draw on. He didn't trust anyone. It took him a long time to find people he could leave in charge of the ship, even for an afternoon, without locking the Samson down completely. That was a kind of isolation he became accustomed to, and he was just starting to emerge from his shell. He couldn't imagine what Minh's forced isolation was like, what lasting effects it could have. Sure, they had both attended the mandatory seminars regarding long term isolation in Freeground Fleet Academy, but few people had ever spent so long alone in space with so much uncertainty and so little reassurance. There was no way for Minh to know if anyone was looking for him, or if his body would be found centuries later, aimlessly adrift. Only weeks after he was rescued by a Lorander exploration vessel, he returned to flying a starfighter. "What triggered this? Do you know?"
"It started when I woke up in hyperspace. If I were in a Uriel fighter I would have seen the cockpit around me
, been able to stretch, but that Ramiel just wraps around you like a suit. Great for control but, man, I felt like I was trapped. Well, not trapped, but like I was naked. Both maybe, I don't know," Minh said helplessly. "My rep with the squad is shot now though."
"No one knows what happened, other than a stats increase. The only people who got on comms with you were Ayan and I. We can fake a stim overdose in the records and that'll explain the whole thing."
"That'll do it," Minh chuckled. "Were my stats that high? High enough to look like a stim OD?"
"They were through the roof. I've seen interrogation stats that never made it that high."
"Interrogation stats? It sounds like there's a story behind that, you'll have to share some of your shadier adventures some time."
"They're not as exciting as they sound."
Minh held his hands out in front of him, testing his steadiness. His shaking had almost completely gone. "After spending a few years adrift you'd be surprised at what I find exciting. Dinner. Dinner is exciting, and new combat boots, that's pretty interesting too. Oh, and materializers with patterns from the Sol System. If I weren't on energy rations like the rest of the crew my quarters would look like a Sol System Emporium."
Jake laughed and nodded. “Yeah, I could see that."
"Speaking of exciting, it looks like I'm good to go again. When we land I'm getting into my old Uriel with Slick and we're going to go see what's up with the Triton first hand."
"Are you sure you're good for it?"
Minh gave him a withering look. "A Ramiel is one thing, it feels like an oversized vacsuit with fusion fuelled thruster underwear. The Uriel feels like a rig, and I won't be alone. Slick's good people, laughs at half my jokes, oh, and he's a good pilot and SIO.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I'll be fine, Dad."
"Okay, okay. I was hoping we could send someone, even though everyone who knows anything about Freeground protocol is aware that sending a scout into that kind of situation is strictly prohibited."
Fragments sf-6 Page 12
