Starship Revenant (The Galactic Wars Book 3)
Page 5
He sniffed the food as he strutted down the table toward Declan. It may have been Declan’s ship, but Max was the boss.
Declan held out a little piece of bacon, and Max devoured it.
Zoey was tired and hung over, and her face was tender as hell. “You got a med station on this ship?”
“What do you need?” Declan said, crunching on a crispy slice of bacon.
“Something for this headache would be nice. You have any cooling gel for this bruise?”
Declan pushed away from the table and stood up. “Let me see what I can rustle up.”
“Finish eating first,” Zoey said.
“I’ll just be a minute.”
Zoey scooped the last bit of waffles into her mouth and followed after him.
Max proceeded to nibble at Declan’s omelet.
Zoey caught up to Declan in the corridor, still chomping on her food. “Thank’s for breakfast. You’re not a bad cook.”
“My cooking will keep you from starving, that’s about it.”
“Do you do dishes and laundry too?”
He frowned at her and stepped into the med station. He rummaged through the cabinets and handed her a few pills. “Here. Take these. That will take down the swelling.”
Declan dug through the cabinet and pulled out a jar. He unscrewed the lid and dabbed a finger inside. “Let me see your face.”
He wiped the clear gel over her bruised and swollen skin.
“Ow. Go easy.” Her skin was extremely sensitive.
“Sorry.”
Declan finished applying the gel. Within moments, her skin grew cool. The gel was like an icepack, activated by skin contact. Declan gave her the jar. “Hang on to this. It will last about 15 minutes, then you can reapply.”
“Thanks.” She looked up at him with appreciative eyes.
“Just put it back when you’re done.” His steely blue eyes met hers. He held her gaze for a moment.
Zoey felt a little tingle in her stomach. Declan was attractive, in a dangerous, rough around the edges kind of way. She was a sucker for those kind of men, though she wasn’t about to admit it. “Well, it seems you aren’t as much of an asshole as I thought you were.”
“Don’t sell me short. I’m a tremendous asshole, you just don’t know me that well yet.” He grinned and left her in the med station just as Violet hovered in the entryway.
It was easy to see that she was a little jealous. She gave Zoey a back off, he’s mine look. It was an awkward moment.
Zoey slid past her and bumped into 8-Ball in the hallway.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m going to get a little shut-eye,” 8-Ball said.
“That’s not a bad idea,” said Zoey. “But don’t get any ideas about us bunking together.”
“Please, you are totally not my type,” 8-Ball said.
Zoey rolled her eyes. “Anything with a pulse is your type.”
“Are you suggesting I don’t have standards? I mean, I guess I could compromise my values, if you begged me.”
“You definitely need sleep. You seem delusional.”
As she headed to her quarters, Zoey suddenly got an uneasy feeling in her stomach. The bulkheads breathed and rippled. She felt seasick for a moment. The Zephyr had emerged from slide-space.
Zoey’s face twisted up, perplexed. It was much too soon to be exiting a quantum jump. She and 8-Ball raced to the cockpit.
“What the hell is going on?”
“It’s an old ship, sweetheart,” Declan said. “It doesn’t have the range of modern vessels. It’s just going to take a few more jumps than usual to reach our destination.”
Zoey grimaced.
“We’ll get there. I promise.”
“Where are we?” Zoey said, gazing out the front viewport. Visibility was almost down to zero. They had emerged in an angry green cloud of dust and ionized gasses. Electrical charges flashed about the hazy nebula. It was like an interstellar thunderstorm.
“X2997365. It’s a planetary nebula that doesn’t even get a real name,” Declan said, looking over the charts. “But we shouldn’t be here. We should be two sectors over. It doesn’t make any sense.”
The Zephyr cruised through the luminescent clouds. Suddenly, a large metallic object emerged from the haze. They were on a collision course, and there was no time to avoid it.
13
ZOEY
Declan pulled hard on the controls. The ship veered starboard. The inertia sent Zoey crashing against the port side bulkhead. The old Zephyr creaked and groaned. It was going to be a close call.
As they careened closer to the object, it became clear it was another spaceship. It was massive. But the nebula prevented a clear view of the ship. The bow and stern were obscured by the luminescent haze.
Declan reversed the thrusters, trying to avoid impact. The Zephyr shuddered and rumbled. The edge of the Zephyr scraped along the top of the mysterious ship. Sparks flew, and metal squealed. It was like nails on a chalkboard.
Still pulling hard on the controls, Declan arced the Zephyr away, clearing the mammoth vessel.
“What the hell is that?” Declan muttered.
“She doesn’t show up on the scanner,” Violet said.
“Must be electromagnetic interference from the nebula. We’ve got to be careful in here.” Declan circled around to get a better look at the ship.
They flew along the mammoth structure from end to end. It didn’t take Zoey long to recognize what it was. “That’s an Avenger class star destroyer.”
8-Ball stared out of the front view port, slack-jawed. “Holy shit. That’s impossible.”
The tattered and faded name on the hull read: USS Revenant.
“That ship’s been missing for 25 years,” 8-Ball said.
An eerie silence fell over the cockpit. No one was sure what to make of the phenomenon.
“Can’t be,” Declan said.
“It says it right there on the hull,” 8-Ball exclaimed.
“You spike our breakfast?” Violet said in jest. “Maybe we’re all hallucinating?”
“That’s not a hallucination,” said Zoey.
Declan made another pass around the ship.
Violet activated the comm system. “SS Zephyr to the USS Revenant. Do you copy, over?”
There was no response. Just static and interference from the nebula.
“SS Zephyr to the USS Revenant. Do you read me?”
There was still no reply.
“She looks like she’s in pretty good shape,” Zoey said.
“She’s a little dinged up here and there, but I don’t see any major hull breaches,” Declan said.
“Do you think she still has an atmosphere and gravity?” Violet asked.
“There’s only one way to find out.”
“Oh, hell no,” Mitch said. “You’re not thinking about going aboard that thing, are you?”
Declan’s face twisted up. “Why not?”
“The Revenant is cursed.”
“Nonsense. Old wives’ tales.”
“This thing disappeared without a trace, then reappears here 25 years later? That doesn’t strike you as odd?”
“I’m sure there’s a simple explanation,” Declan said. “They probably had some technical difficulty, got stuck in deep space, and drifted into this nebula. Look at all this interference going on,” he said, motioning to the electrical disturbances within the cloudy haze. “More than enough to wreak havoc with long-distance communications. It’s why the ship doesn’t show up on the scans.”
“I’m looking right at it, yet it doesn’t read at all on LRADDS,” Violet said.
“That’s creepy,” Mitch said.
“No, it’s not,” Declan said, ever the skeptic. “Look, the ship probably got locked into an orbit around the planet. Eventually the crew ran out of supplies and… well, shit happens.”
“I don’t like it,” Mitch said.
“Don’t be a pussy,” said Brody.
“That means there’s go
ing to be a ton of dead bodies on that ship,” Mitch said.
“Crusty skeletons,” Brody said. “You’re not afraid of a few old bone bags?”
“Have some respect,” Zoey said. “There were over 1600 crew on the Revenant.”
“With all due respect to the dead, do you know what a ship like this is worth?” Declan said with a grin. “Trillions.”
Mitch's eyes widened.
“Hang on a minute,” Zoey said. “This is Federation property.”
“This vessel is abandoned, and is clearly in peril,” Declan said. “If we salvage this ship, we’re entitled to 100% of its value. The Federation can have it back, as long as they pay me for it.” He smiled.
“You don’t know if it’s abandoned,” Zoey said.
“Even if there is someone aboard, it’s likely they need our help. In which case, the vessel is in peril, and we’re entitled to salvage rights.”
“What’s the split,” Jaxon asked.
“The usual. I take 50%, the rest is split evenly between the four of you.”
“That’s bullshit,” Jaxon said.
“When you have your own ship, and your own crew, you can set the percentages.”
“I’m with Jaxon,” Violet said. “You want us to go aboard the ship, it’s an even split.”
Declan scowled at her.
“Even split, or I don’t go either,” Brody said. There was a little fear in his voice. “I’ve heard the stories about the Revenant.”
“Yeah, fair is fair,” Mitch said.
Declan threw up his hands in exasperation. “Okay. Fine. Even split. Five ways.”
Zoey stared at them with wide eyes. “Is money the only thing you people give a shit about?”
“No,” Declan said. “I though it was pretty obvious we all like bacon.”
“I’ll kill for bacon,” Jaxon said. He wasn’t kidding.
Zoey shook her head. “What about our mission?”
“Your mission can wait a day or two in order for us to make a trillion credits.”
Zoey’s face tensed. “You know, you wouldn’t have even stumbled across this ship if it weren’t for me.”
“So?”
“So, 8-Ball and I should get an equal share.”
“Absolutely not.”
Zoey scowled at him.
“She’s got a point, boss,” Mitch said.
Declan glared at him. Mitch was just trying to make a good impression, hoping it might help him get into Zoey’s pants—and Declan knew it.
Declan sighed. “Alright. All those in favor of cutting the clients in, raise your hand.”
Violet, Mitch, Zoey, and 8-Ball raised their hands.
“You two don’t count,” Declan said, looking at Zoey and 8-Ball.
Zoey gritted her teeth and huffed.
“All those in favor of keeping the shares among us, raise your hand.”
Jaxon and Declan raised their hands.
“That’s 2 to 2. Who didn’t vote?” Declan scanned the cockpit. Brody stood sheepishly, trying to ignore his gaze.
Declan’s eyes narrowed. “Brody, how say you?”
“Well, to be honest, it only seems fair.”
“I agree. It only seems fair to keep it among us.” Declan glanced at Zoey. “I’m sorry, but that’s 3 to 2. You lose.”
“No, I mean, it only seems fair to cut them in,” Brody said. “After all, we wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her.”
Declan grimaced. “Fine. Seven way split. Are the negotiations over?”
Everyone nodded.
“Just remember, it’s her fault if anything goes wrong. She brought us here.” Declan grumbled under his breath and spun back to the command console. “Who’s going to be the first aboard?”
14
ZOEY
“There are multiple air locks on the port and starboard side, and atop the superstructure,” Zoey said.
“This ship isn’t designed to form a hard seal. We’ll have to do an EVA walk,” Declan said. “Mitch, suit up.”
His face crinkled up. “Why me?”
“Cause it’s your turn.”
“I’ll go,” Zoey said.
“No, you’ll stay here.”
“I know how to operate the access hatch, and I know my way around the ship. 8-Ball and I are… were… stationed aboard the Scorpion. It’s identical to the Revenant.”
Declan reluctantly agreed. “Mitch, show Commander Ballbreaker to the airlock, and help her suit up.”
Mitch had a little glint in his eye. “With pleasure, sir.”
She rolled her eyes and followed him down to the airlock.
Declan maneuvered the Zephyr alongside one of the airlock hatches on the starboard side of the Revenant. He extended a magnetic docking arm that latched onto the hull. The two ships drifted through the green clouds in a synchronous orbit around the unseen proto-planet at the center of the nebula.
Zoey was skeptical of the spacesuits hanging from the bulkheads in the Zephyr’s airlock. There were a dozen of them. “How old are those suits?”
“They work just fine,” Mitch said.
She arched an eyebrow at him.
“Do you know how much a new pressurized spacesuit costs?”
“When was the last time anybody used one of these?”
“I don’t know,” Mitch said. “Maybe six months ago?”
“And you’re sure these things will hold pressure?”
“Well, that one has a slow leak,” he gestured to one of the suits. “But it’s within limits. The rest of them are fine.”
“And they maintain temperature?”
“Look, these aren’t SK-7s, but they get the job done.”
Zoey shook her head, then began to peel out of her uniform.
Mitch's eyes were glued to her.
“Turn around. You’re not getting a free show.”
He frowned, then turned to face the bulkhead. “I didn’t want to watch anyway. Let me know when it’s safe to turn around. I don’t want to catch a glimpse of something scary.”
Zoey shook her head and stripped down.
These were SK-2, Advanced Extra Vehicular Activity suits. They were at least 50 years old, and weren’t very advanced by modern standards. They had several main components—the bladder, the lower torso assembly, the upper torso assembly, the helmet, and gloves.
Zoey grabbed a pair of absorbency undergarments from a bin in the bulkhead and slipped them on. If you had to go in one of these older spacesuits, this was the only way. Modern suits had duel pressurized locking zippers that created a perfect seal.
Zoey slipped into a formfitting bodysuit made out of wicking material. This was primarily to absorb sweat. Then she put on the bladder—a liquid cooled jumpsuit, regulated by the suit’s CPU.
She slipped into the lower torso assembly, like a pair of pants, and pulled the locking ring over her hips. She pulled the upper torso assembly overhead and slipped her arms into the sleeves. She locked the two sections together. The gloves were already attached to the locking rings on the sleeves, but could easily be removed if necessary.
She attached the helmet and pressurized the suit. It was bulkier than an SK-7, and had less mobility when fully pressurized. You could slip an SK-7 on over your skivvies and be ready to roll. The SK-2 wasn’t quite as antiquated as the old Apollo suits that the first astronauts used several hundred years ago, but it wasn’t state-of-the-art either. Modern technology had advanced quite a bit since the debut of the SK-2.
The suit had an old, musty smell. It was well worn, and some of the materials looked like they were deteriorating. The suit didn’t exactly inspire confidence.
The SK-2s were one size fits all. The gloves could be interchanged for different size hands, and the upper and lower torso sections had expandable fabric to compensate for size differences. The center locking ring was the only sticking point.
Mitch slipped on his suit, which was a little snug, in contrast to Zoey’s, which was a tad large on her. Mitch
’s belly was flush against the center locking ring. He had to suck in his gut to attach the upper and lower sections. He pulled the helmet over his head and locked it in place.
Zoey activated her comm system—it was part of the upper torso assembly. “Can you hear me?”
Her voice filtered through the speaker in Mitch’s suit. “Loud and clear.”
“Zephyr, what about you?”
“Unfortunately,” Declan replied.
“What’s our oxygen supply like?” Zoey asked.
“Roughly 2 hours.”
Zoey lifted her brow. “That’s it?”
“Of course, that depends on how much you breathe. How much you talk. How hard you exert yourself.”
Zoey shook her head. “These suits are fully shielded, right?”
“Yes,” Declan said, crackling over the comm link. “You’ve got protection from ultraviolet and particle radiation.”
“If there’s a reactor leak aboard the Revenant, we could be stepping into some high dose ionizing radiation.”
Fusion reactors were generally safe, and meltdown was impossible. Still, the inner components of the reactor were radioactive. But unlike fission reactors, the fusion reactor cores would only be dangerous for about a hundred years after being decommissioned. In comparison, byproducts of nuclear fission, such as Np-237, have a half life of 2 million years.
Mitch looked a little nervous upon hearing that.
“I’m not picking up anything on the sensors,” Declan said.
Zoey grimaced. “That’s because the sensors aren’t working.”
“Oh, right,” Declan said. “Look, the suits are equipped with dosimeters. I’m getting a clear readout on your vitals. If there’s anything to be concerned about, I’ll let you know.”
“I feel better already.” Zoey’s voice was thick with sarcasm.
Mitch grabbed a retractable safety line and attached it to his suit with a carabiner. Zoey did the same.
“You ready,” Mitch asked.
Zoey nodded.
Mitch closed the hatch to the airlock and made sure the seal was secure. He pressed a button on the wall and expelled the atmosphere from the airlock. Air whooshed through the vents. It was safer than just opening the outer hatch and running the risk of being swept out into space with the rush of exiting atmosphere.