Starship Revenant (The Galactic Wars Book 3)

by Tripp Ellis

  “You know, we could make our last few moments count.” Mitch had a lascivious glint in his eyes.

  She stared at him, incredulous. “In a few moments we’re going to suffocate. It’s going to be a horrible death. And sex is the only thing you can think about?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Sorry. If I’m going to die, I’d like to maintain my dignity.”

  “So, would a quick tug be out of the question?”

  Zoey rolled her eyes.

  “Hey, you can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  The ship rumbled and groaned again. Thunder boomed from the electrical storm in the nebula. The emergency lighting flickered on. An instant later, both hatches at either end of the corridor slid open.

  It seemed like a miracle.

  Zoey’s eyes widened. “Come on, lets go!”

  She sprang to her feet and raced down the corridor. Mitch followed behind her, their boots clanking against the deck.

  They huffed and puffed as they sprinted through the maze of passageways to the airlock on the other side of the Revenant. Running only burned oxygen faster.

  By the time they reached the airlock, there were only 3 minutes of oxygen left. Zoey sealed the inner airlock hatch behind them, depressurized what little atmosphere had built up, then opened the outer hatch.

  Several metallic pings, emanating from the outer hull, echoed through the airlock. It was a hailstorm of small meteors, no larger than a golf ball. They zipped past the open hatch. They weren’t large enough to damage either ship, but they would tear through flesh like paper.

  “Ladies first,” Mitch said.

  Zoey waited until the last meteor had passed. The peppering of the hull stopped. It seemed clear, but there was no way to tell if more were coming. She didn’t have much of a choice. She didn’t have the luxury of waiting for too much longer.

  Zoey latched the safety cable to her suit and grabbed onto the tether wire. She could feel the air getting thin. Her chest heaved with deep breaths, but it didn’t seem to satiate her need for oxygen. She began to feel light headed. Was the display reading properly, she wondered? Was she already out of oxygen and just re-breathing her own CO2?

  She pulled herself into space and glided across the wire, pulling fist over fist. Looking out over the nebula was almost dizzying. Her heart was pounding, and her lungs were starting to burn.

  Another small meteor zipped within inches of her visor. If she’d had crawled out on to the tether just a few seconds sooner, she’d be dead. Life comes down to moments.

  She finally reached the Zephyr’s airlock. Once inside, she disconnected the safety cable and waited for Mitch. He wasn’t far behind her, but it seemed like an eternity. She couldn’t seal and pressurize the airlock until he made it across.

  Zoey was moments from passing out. She felt her eyes grow heavy and her vision dim.

  Mitch pulled himself into the airlock and closed the hatch behind him. He pressed a button on the bulkhead and pressurized the compartment. It only took 30 seconds to pressurize, but when you have no oxygen left, 30 seconds can be eons.

  Zoey tore off her helmet and gasped for breath. Her chest heaved, and her lungs expanded. She hunched over on her knees and sucked in several fresh breaths before she could spit out a word. “The oxygen meter isn’t working on this suit.”

  “I forgot to mention the gauges aren’t exactly spot on.”

  Zoey scowled at him, still light headed.

  The two changed out of their suits. Mitch didn’t even try to ogle Zoey. He was just thankful to be alive. The only thought running through his mind was that he never wanted to go back on that ship again.

  They staggered up to the cockpit.

  8-Ball was relieved to see Zoey alive and in one piece. He tried to contain his joy.

  “What the hell happened?” Declan said. “We were starting to get worried about you two.”

  “Yeah, Brody thought you two might have eloped,” Jaxon said.

  Zoey flipped him off.

  “What condition is the ship in?” Declan asked.

  Zoey gave him a rundown of the situation.

  “Are the engines operational?” Declan asked.

  “I don’t know. The diagnostic that I ran didn’t detect any faults, but I can’t get them online. The ship’s reactors went into standby mode at some point in time. I tried to power them up, but they wouldn’t respond.”

  “What do you mean, they wouldn’t respond?” Declan said.

  “Look, I’m not a nuclear tech. The reactor cores need to reach temperatures of over a million degrees to convert the hydrogen to plasma. Only then can a sustained chain reaction occur.”

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe there’s not enough juice in the reserve power cells to make the reactor critical. All the diagnostics I’ve run show no faults within the system.”

  “We’ve got another problem,” Violet said. “The Revenant’s orbit is decaying. I’ve been monitoring our trajectory since we’ve been docked.

  “How long?” Declan asked.

  “48 hours, give or take. Then she’ll end up as a twisted heap of metal on the proto-planet at the center of this nebula.”

  “Can’t we just tow her out?” Jaxon asked.

  “We don’t have enough power to break her out of orbit,” Declan said.

  “I’m not letting my share of a trillion credits burn up in the atmosphere of some primordial rock,” Jaxon said.

  “Maybe you can get out and push the fucker,” Zoey quipped.

  Jaxon scowled at her.

  “Brody, give the reactors a look and see if you can figure anything out,” Declan said.

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Those are pretty sophisticated pieces of equipment,” Zoey said.

  “I know what I’m doing,” Brody said, squinting at her.

  “Brody served six years as a Naval Reactor Engineer aboard the USS Hamilton,” Declan said. “He knows his way around a reactor and an ion drive. Mitch, Jaxon… work on shoring up the hull. I want that thing tip top.”

  “I’m not going back on that ship” said Mitch.

  Declan’s face tensed.

  “What, you scared?” Brody said, baby talking him.

  “You want your share of what’s she’s worth, you’ll get back on board and do your job.” Declan looked over the misfit crew. “Start loading the gear on board. Violet, supervise and keep everyone on pace. Look into the code, see if you can find a software glitch or something that explains the issues with the power grid and the reactors. We’ve got 48 hours, I want it done in 24.”

  “Aye, sir,” Violet said.

  “Why does she always get to supervise?” Mitch whined.

  “Because I’m smarter than you.” Violet smiled.

  “That’s not saying much,” Jaxon said.

  “Eat me.” Mitch glared at him. “Oh, I’m sorry, you might actually like that.”

  Jaxon’s nostrils flared, and he clenched his jaw. He could dish it out, but he couldn’t take it. “Careful, little man.”

  “Knock it off.” Declan shouted. “We’ve got a lot of work to do, and it ain’t going to get done by itself.”

  21

  ZOEY

  The crew loaded their gear onto the Revenant, ferrying it across the tethered guide wire. Jaxon took his M729, just as a precaution.

  Mitch and Zoey kept an eye out for stray meteors as they crossed.

  By the time everyone was aboard the ship, there were 46 hours left until estimated impact with the proto-planet.

  Brody knelt down to one of the cases they had brought over with the equipment. It was a pet transporter, and Max was inside.

  Declan’s face tightened. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I thought he might like a little change of scenery,” Brody said. “The atmosphere in here is almost normal.”

  “Take him back.” Declan was seething. His face was turning red.

  “He never gets off
that ship. Let him run around this place for a little bit.”

  “We don’t know the first thing about this ship. It may not be safe.”

  “Oh, right, fuck us… but God forbid something happens to Max.”

  “Hey, fuck you. Max is family.”

  Brody raised his brow. He looked a little hurt by the comment. “I love the little guy as much as you do, alright? He’s gonna be fine. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Declan glared at Brody. “If anything happens to him, I swear to God…”

  The ship creaked and groaned. Emergency lighting still flickered randomly.

  “If anybody needs me, I’ll be in the reactor control room,” Brody said. He turned his gaze to Mitch. “Flickering lights don’t scare me.”

  Mitch scowled at Brody as he brushed passed.

  “Where’s the captain’s quarters?” Declan asked. “Maybe he left some written logs. Anything that might give us a heads up on what happened here.”

  “I’ll show you,” Zoey said.

  “Let’s be fast and efficient, people,” Declan said. He grabbed Max’s transport case.

  Jaxon and Mitch headed toward the hull breach, lugging the repair gear. Violet went to the CIC to evaluate the ship’s operating system. 8-Ball tagged along with Declan and Zoey as they navigated the maze of passageways toward the captain’s stateroom.

  Something caught Declan’s eye in one of the corridors. He stopped and leaned in to examine the bulkhead. Zoey thought he might be hallucinating at first. She stepped closer to see for herself. If it was a hallucination, all three of them were seeing it—there were bullet holes and blast marks in the metal.

  Declan rubbed his gloved fingertip over one of the holes. “Looks like some type of skirmish took place.”

  8-Ball and Zoey exchanged a wary glance, then Zoey continued on through the passageway. Several empty shell casings were scattered about, farther down the corridor. She knelt down and picked one up. It was a standard issue 5.56 mm round. Koenig Haas, the manufacturer, was stamped on the bottom of the spent casing.

  Her big eyes stared at it for a moment. What the hell had happened here, she wondered? She squeezed the casing, just to make sure it was real.

  “Let’s keep moving,” Declan said. He moseyed down the corridor, carrying Max’s case.

  Zoey stood up. The casing pinged across the deck as she dropped it.

  They pushed on and reached the captain’s quarters. It was exactly the same as Slade’s stateroom aboard the Scorpion, only with different appointments. A bed, a living area, a desk, a kitchenette.

  Declan’s eyes gleamed as he saw several bottles of liquor. He picked up the bottles, perusing through the labels. He stopped when he found one that suited his fancy. “Now this was a man after my own heart.”

  He was holding a bottle of McMillan 1939 scotch like it was a baby. It had come all the way from Earth, and was considered rare even back in the 20th century. Several hundred years later, and billions of miles across the galaxy, the bottle had to be priceless.

  “This right here makes the whole trip worth it,” Declan said.

  He ogled the bottle. Declan hadn’t had a drink in ten years. But a bottle of McMillan seemed too good to pass up. It would be almost sacrilegious, he thought, not to have at least a sip. He stared at the bottle, long and hard. He imagined the warm rich flavor dancing across his tastebuds. The sublime sensation of the onset of a buzz.

  He wanted to crack it open right then and there. But he set it back on the shelf. He eyed Zoey and 8-Ball suspiciously. “Hands off. I’m coming back for this.”

  “Technically, you’ve got to split that seven ways,” Zoey said.

  Declan glared at her.

  “Just keeping you honest.” Zoey flashed a sardonic smile.

  They rummaged through the desk drawers, the bookshelves, and storage lockers. There was no sign of a personal log, or journal.

  Max watched from his transport case that was perched atop the captain’s bed.

  In another part of the ship, Brody marched aft toward the reactor room. It had been a long time since he’d been aboard a destroyer. It made him a little nostalgic. The Revenant was mentioned in every history text relating to the first Verge War. Along with Captain Slade’s heroics, every school kid learned about the Revenant. Now he was walking its halls.

  The flickering lights didn’t bother him. He wasn’t afraid of the dark. He didn’t get claustrophobic. None of those things made the hairs on the back of his neck stand tall. It was the voice that he heard that did that. It sent a shiver down his spine.

  “Brody…”

  He spun around to see who had called his name—the eerie whisper of a woman’s voice. But no one was there. His eyes were wide, and his breathing grew heavy. His heart was thumping.

  He shook it off and spun back around toward engineering and the reactors. It could have been anything—his mind playing tricks on him.

  He recognized the sound of the voice, and there was no way that person could be speaking to him. She had been dead for a year now.

  After a few steps, he heard the whisper again. “Brody…”

  He nearly jumped out of his skin. He could feel her breath against the back of his neck. He spun around and scanned the corridor behind him. The lights flickered, but nothing was there.

  Brody activated his comm system. “Alright, knock it off.”

  “What’s the matter, Brody,” Mitch crackled back. “You getting spooked?”

  “Shut your ass, Donut. Who’s the practical joker?”

  “I don’t know what your talking about, Cupcake.”

  Brody could hear Mitch and Jaxon snicker over the comm line. He gritted his teeth. “Keep it up. Next time I see you I’m gonna put my foot in your ass.”

  Brody turned around, and his flashlight beamed across a dead and decaying woman’s body standing before him. It was hideous and grotesque. Rotten flesh, eroding and sloughing from the bone. Festering, oozing sores.

  Brody shrieked and fell back against the deck.

  The woman’s eerie voice filled his ears. “Why, Brody? Why…?”

  When he looked up again, she was gone.

  By this time, Brody’s visor was beginning to fog. On his heads up display, all his vital statistics were elevated.

  He looked at the empty hallway, bewildered. He blinked his eyes, skeptical of what he had seen.

  Brody was huffing and puffing like he had just sprinted a mile. He pulled himself off the deck and tried to regain his composure.

  The emergency lighting flickered and went out completely.

  Oh, dear God, don’t let me see that woman again, he prayed.

  22

  WALKER

  “Get on your knees and put your hands behind your head,” a Decluvian security officer yelled.

  Walker complied. There were too many weapons aimed at his skull to do otherwise. One or two of them he might have been able to handle. But six? No way.

  One of the Decluvians pulled Walker’s wrists behind his back and restrained him.

  The squad leader pulled off Walker’s helmet. His face twisted up at the sight of a human. “I think this is the ugliest one yet.”

  “You don’t have a lot of room to talk,” Walker muttered.

  That little bit of insolence earned Walker a smack across the jaw with the butt of a rifle.

  Walker winced. The impact twisted his neck to the side and split his lip. He spit blood onto the deck.

  One of the goons hoisted Walker to his feet and shoved him down the hall toward the detention center. He was going to get a good look inside after all.

  In the prisoner processing area, he was forced to remove his body armor. He was down to his skivvies. Then he was escorted to a holding cell. The goons tossed him inside, sending him crashing to the deck. These bastards were strong. At 6’5”, Walker wasn’t an easy guy to throw around. But they made him seem like a rag doll.

  By the time Walker climbed to his feet, an energy shield enclosed the
opening of the cell.

  Walker was like a snarling bull, ready to charge at the snickering goons outside.

  “I wouldn’t touch that shield, if I were you.” The voice came from the corner of the cell.

  Walker glanced over to see a Decluvian lounging on a bunk.

  “That beam will disintegrate your flesh. But if you’re looking for a quick end to the misery, by all means, try stepping through that energy field.”

  Walker’s eyes stared back at the blue field that illuminated the entrance. It gave off a slight hum, kind of like a bug zapper.

  “The name’s Luvix, but you can call me Lu… or Vix… or whatever the hell you want. I don’t really care.”

  He had orange skin and large black spots. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. He could have just as well been on vacation, lounging in a hammock.

  “You speak pretty good English for a Decluvian.”

  “The galaxy is filled with old Earth TV shows bouncing around. It’s a primitive language. Easy to pickup.”

  Walker glared at him.

  Lu pulled out a hand rolled cigarette he had stashed in his pillow case. He sparked it up and took a hit. He offered it to Walker, who waived it off.

  “Are you sure? It’s really good Majuva herb. All the way from the Sapova sector.”

  Walker ignored him, and tried to get an angle on the rest of the detention center. But he was careful to keep his distance from the containment beam.

  “Might as well relax and enjoy this place. It’s only going to get worse from here. If you don’t end up as the main course, you’ll be shuffled off to one of the mining colonies. Let me tell you, that’s brutal.”

  Walker stepped away from the containment beam and turned back to Lu. He surveyed the cell. It was barely big enough for the two of them. There was a small sink, two bunks, and a place to take care of your business. But that was about it.

  “What are you in for?”

  “My charming personality.” Lu smiled.

  Walker almost chuckled.

  “Are you sure you don’t want a hit, man? It makes the suck factor of the situation go way down.”