"Come on, come on, come on!" I chanted.
Eventually, the displays flared to life and started running through diagnostics. In a few moments, I had the results of the power on self-tests and initiated the flight protocols. I heard a sloshing sound, then, and looked down at my feet. The cockpit was filling up with liquid!
"What the fuck!?" I called.
The Eclipse Fighters fill their cockpits with fluid to help resist the excessive gee-forces their acceleration encounters.
"How do I shut it down?"
You can't. You'll have to attach the life support rigging to your face.
Crap! I started to look around desperately for a facemask, or breather unit or something that might allow me to breathe oxygen. The fluid was filling fast, and it was starting to rise past my seat.
"Where is it? I can't find it!"
I twisted in my seat, trying to look behind me, above me, below the back of the seat. Did the pilots take the masks with them and connect them somewhere? If that was the case, I was going to drown. There! By the right armrest on the seat, a compartment popped open when I hit a button near it. There was a mask, but the fluid was soaking it. I was rising up my chest now. I struggle with the mask, trying to get it to fit. It was adjusted for Frikk heads, slightly larger than my own. I pulled it on and tightened the straps, but no air was flowing! I lifted the mask off my nose and mouth and sucked in a deep breath as the fluid rose to my neck. I put the mask back and fiddled with the mask, tracing the tubing back to the recess it came from and found a valve control. I dialled it open and sweet air filled the mask. I breathed deeply.
More hard light bullets hit my canopy, and I suddenly saw a spider web crack appear. When the cockpit was full, the display showed flight data start to compile. I felt the ship lift off its carriage and I grabbed the yoke. I could see the display fairly well through the fluid, and had no trouble accessing the controls. I activated the weapon system and gave the ship an experimental turn. Controls were tight. I turned the ship to face the hangar doors and linked the weapon control to my flight yoke. The weapons charged up and in seconds, I had a green light. I didn't hesitate. Green plasma bolts lashed out from my fighter to the doors. I kept shooting until I saw them glow bright red and then with a sudden lurch they buckled and exploded outward. The sudden pull of the escaping atmosphere caused my ship to slide towards it. I pulled back and let all the loose equipment, crates and personnel fly out into space. When the atmosphere had vented, then I ignited my thrusters and left the hangar.
I pointed the ship towards the Dreaming and kicked in the main thrusters. I was pushed back in the pilot's seat as the fighter rocketed away, the gee forces were immense. I didn't care; I was going home.
51.
My elation at escaping the Blade of Xerxes was short lived. As my body was doing its best effort to resist the forces of acceleration working on me, my attention was drawn to a bank of indicators that lit up a few moments.
Seth, it appears we have company.
“Tell…me…” I squeezed each work out of clenched teeth, struggling to breathe. It felt like a horse was sitting on my chest.
The Blade of Xerxes has launched several drone interceptors. You will have to disable them before continuing to the Dreaming of Atmosphere. They won’t reach that far, but they will catch you before you get out of range.
I tried to reach for the controls but my arms wouldn’t obey me. There was simply too many g forces.
“Help…can’t reach…controls…” I managed to get out, each word a struggle to breathe.
Cutting acceleration in ten seconds, displaying positional data on lower display panel. Stand-by.
I glanced down and saw a two dimensional representation of the surrounding space appear before me on the screen. There were strange symbols besides eight targets, but I couldn’t get my head around where they were relative to me. “Feed…to overlay…” Tac transferred the data to my overlay, and I accessed an old app that I hadn’t used for years.
I had used the app when I was doing my pilot accreditation training. There were several ways one could gain a recognised pilot’s license, but the classical way was to actually sit the exam and show an instructor what you were capable of. Most of the accreditation was proving you knew interstellar laws and regulations; the rest was a practical demonstration that proved you could handle a small ship.
The Primacy Star Marine Corps made sure that all its marines were accredited as anyone could be called upon to pilot one of the troop assault boats in a pinch. There were always varying degrees of skills, however, and many different configurations of shuttles, drone controls and transports all with different control schemes. One bright spark put together an app that interfaces with most small craft controls and arranges the configurations to something familiar.
In this instance, I didn’t have time to get used to the controls or find out where all the buttons were or what the labels meant. I used the app, and instantly had a familiar grasp of what the layout of all my options were. It sure would be handy if we had something like this for our consoles in the command module of the Dreaming, for when we had to hot seat in a pinch.
Suddenly, the intense pressure on my body dropped away as my main thrusters cut off. I grabbed the control stick and yanked the fighter around on its axis to face my attackers. As I was now flying using the same configuration I was used to on the Dreaming, I could clearly see the eight drones closing in on me fast. They were arrayed into four pairs, forming a flat diamond formation on the same plane as me. I glanced at my weapon controls and called up configuration details. I had seconds before they would be in firing range. I had no idea when I would be in range of their weapons.
My mind raced with possible tactics. I couldn’t out manoeuvre them, I couldn’t out run then, I certainly couldn’t out gun them. The only thing I could do was out think them. They would be controlled by drone pilots on the Xerxes so if I could break their formations, I could target them as individuals or pairs. I had to press them, and keep at it. I couldn’t let them remain organised and act in concert. I hammered the thrusters again and shot towards them.
The pilots were good, I’ll give them that. The instant I ignited my thrust they flipped their formation on its end so that the diamond was upright, and I was heading right into their centre. All four pairs would be able to fire on me at the same time. I wasn’t a fool, however, and this was what I was expecting. I changed my heading a few degrees at the last instant, so that I shot out above them, while my Class 1 turret below my cockpit tracked and fired on the upper formation.
The liquid atmosphere of the cockpit vibrated with the sound of rapid fire energy blasts, and I could feel the sound in my chest and abdomen. Gee forces once more pressed into me, but despite pulling almost nine gee of force it felt like only a few. The inertial stabilisers weren’t that good, it had to be a property of this liquid encasement I was in, I was sure.
One of my contacts flared out, and I corkscrewed back and around, watching as the diamond broke up into an arching pincer formation trying to flank me with the outer arms of the arch. One drone broke away, absent its wing mate. I saw a brilliant staccato of red and green pulsing beams flash by my canopy, and two beams managed to pierce the transparent material. Where the beams hit the liquid, they turned an opaque grey that seemed to absorb the energy from the strike. The beams didn’t penetrate more than about thirty centimetres.
I juked and spun, trying to shake my pursuers. I made to veer to port, but yanked my controls to starboard and cut my thrusters, spun the ship and ignited my thrusters again. I had the central pair of drones within my cone of fire for a split second, and that was all my weapon system needed to stitch them both into expanding clouds of parts and debris.
The remaining pair split immediately into a square and came at me from all angles. I felt a shuddering rattle hammer away at my aft somewhere, and warning lights lit up all along my control dash. My app translated the damage to indicate I’d suffered hits to the st
arboard fuselage, ripping a gash down my side. In the long run, this was bad news, but as I didn’t plan on staying on the fighter for longer than a few hours it was little more than superficial. I’d also suffered a hit to the aft sensor pod, which now meant I had a large blind spot covering a sixty degree cone directly behind me. Luckily, I’d not lost any control capability.
I spun my ship again, and I yanked as hard as I could while burning the thrusters hard. My mind was nearly torn from my consciousness as the gees drained the blood from my head. I cut the thruster to fifteen percent and reversed my direction, hoping to break up the formation again. The pilots were catching on to my tactic, though, having already fallen for it twice. They parted and my shots went wide. As I poured on the thrust to get clear of them again, they darted back around and reformed. Before they could line up another attack run I cut my thrust again, this time they just shot past me while I remained in the same direction. My weapons blared to life again, firing at first one, then two drones. They blew apart in seconds.
The hard gee manoeuvres were not normally my thing, this was more Crege’s specialty. I’d never have been able to perform these turns in the Dreaming, however. Whatever this fluid was that I swam in, it worked incredibly well with the inertial stabilisers.
A bright flash above me suddenly caught me off guard. The survivor of my first attack had swung wide through the entire dogfight, avoiding me. I’d thought it was because it was damaged, but now I could see that I’d made a mistake. It spent the several moments of the dogfight to go wide and line up a perfect attack run. I spun away, burning the thrusters as hard as they would go, but it was too late. A barrage of beams penetrated the canopy and the cockpit fuselage. Bubbling grey masses formed where the beams were absorbed by the goo, but a searing pain almost made me black out. I screamed into my mask, nearly tearing it from my face in my thrashing about.
I think that the fact I still had a firm grasp of the control yoke saved my life. In my throes of agony, I must have jerked the ship around into a wild uncontrolled spin and any further shots went wide. I could barely see, when the initial shock of my injury passed. The cockpit fluid had become a bubbling, hot mass and was turning a cloudy grey in colour. My left leg was a mass of white hot pain and I could tell one of the beams had lanced it. I couldn’t see how bad the damage was, but I was relieved when I realised I could still feel my toes wriggling in my boot. At least it was still attached. I had more problems. The fluid was painfully hot and was starting to scald my body in places. It wasn’t uniformly hot, but it was hottest around where the beams had penetrated.
When I could think again, I realised that I’d stopped manoeuvring and was putting myself in grave danger. My app had un-synced with the ship, probably due to damage in the cockpit. I tried syncing it up again, but it was slow going. I applied thrust and tried to work out the strange two dimensional display. One of opaque sections of the fluid was blocking my view, but as I watched I noticed that the fluid was moving. It was slowly being pulled down to pair of vents either side of the flight seat, probably to be filtered. I kept manoeuvring, randomly firing my jets intermittently to try and discourage fire control locks. I had no idea where the enemy drones were, all I could work out was where the Xerxes was. I decided to use that as a guide and head as far away from it as I could.
“Tac, I need help. I can’t work out where the enemy is, can you see if you can get the app on my overlay to re-sync with the display?” I asked. There was no reply. “Tac, do you read?” For a bone chilling moment I thought that he’d been hit by one of the beams.
One moment. Conducting electronic warfare against drones.
Elation filled me as I realised what had happened. The drone that almost killed me had gotten close enough for Tac to connect wirelessly with. He must had ridden the control feed back to the drone consoles on the Xerxes and was holding the drones off. I decided that I was going to use this chance to finish this.
I cut my thrusters and swung around. I switched the weapons over to manual targeting and peered through my canopy roof. The fluid up there seemed to be the clearest, having been replaced by a fresh supply of the liquid. I had a good enough view to spot one of the drones. I pointed my ship directly at it and sure enough, a targeting lock appeared on my HUD. I wasted no time, unleashing a torrent of energy bolts at it. I grinned through my pain as I saw a brief flash of light as it blew. I could see the other two drones, drifting calmly along as if in the midst of a patrol.
I turned, locked and fired. The second one blew to pieces. The last one followed suit moments later and I spun about and hit the thrusters once more.
That was…difficult, came Tac’s text, moments later, but educational. I believe I shall be able to perform that function approximately 7.32% more efficiently next time.
“If you want, we can go back and ask them to send more drones for you to practice on?”
That will not be necessary, Seth, I have already requested another wave from the warfare officer on their bridge.
“You what?”
That was a joke, Seth. I was trying to alleviate tension.
“Oh. Well. Yeah, I knew that. Remind me to have a word with Zoe about your humour when I get back. I almost added to the fluid content in this cockpit.”
52.
It didn’t take long for the fighter to catch up with the Dreaming. When I was a few thousand kilometres away, Tac was able to re-establish communications through Fel’s short-range transmitter. I also received a rather nasty message from the Blade of Xerxes. One of the displays showed a flashing icon, indicating a communication was open. I activated it and the screen filled with the face of a rather irate looking individual. He was a gaunt faced, grey haired man with the kind of features that bespoke of extensive gene therapy and bio-augmentation to extend life. The man was wearing a crisp, simple uniform with a crest on the lapels of a stylised KX. I knew instinctively that I was seeing the captain of the Blade of Xerxes for the first time. The image on the screen spoke.
“You may think that you have escaped justice, but in reality you have made a terrible enemy this day. Whoever you are, I give you my oath, as captain of this ship, that I will bend whatever resources available to me through my standing in the Korveli-Xue Galactic Corporation to right the grievous wrong you have inflicted on my ship and my crew this day.
“You have angered one of the gods of the galaxy, and are but a flea resting upon the lions paw. You will rue this day I so…” I switched off the display. I hated pompous asses like him. Fuck him.
“Tac, relay to Max that I’m coming in by the port airlock. I’m going to have to translate into the airlock, as there’s no way to get out of this ship while it’s in space. I don’t have a space suit on.” I checked my charge. It was dangerously low, but there was no other way to do this. The journey over here had allowed me to regain a small amount of charge, so I hoped it was enough to see me through this last attempt. It would be very anti-climactic if I expired after fighting my way through so much.
I brought the ship in slowly by the ‘lock. I could see it lit up inside, and knew there was air in there.
Captain Cooper says that the airlock is ready for you. Proceed whenever you wish, Seth.
“One more risk, Tac. Then we’re home.”
I don’t mind admitting that I am glad this is over with. I find my natural sensors to be somewhat limiting after spending time within the Dreaming’s sensor nexus.
“I know what you mean. It’s hard to pull away when I connect to it with my nanites too.”
I’ll see you inside, Seth. Good luck.
“Thanks for your help; I couldn’t have done it without you.”
That is a correct observation.
“Ha, there’s that humour again.”
I took a deep breath and pulled my mask off, and with an effort of will shifted between dimensions to the airlock awaiting me. I popped into the airlock amidst a ball of the cockpit fluids and fell heavily to the deck. The fluid splashed around me and le
ft me sputtering for air. I started laughing when I realised that Max was going to kill me for getting her airlock so filthy. The others found me like that, lying in a pool for greenish liquid, laughing. They must have thought I was delirious. In a way, I was. Denno and Zoe rushed into the airlock and sat me up. Zoe started running instruments over me, checking my wounds. I kept laughing. Max just stood in the inner airlock hatch smiling at me.
“Sorry I messed up your airlock, Captain! Permission to come on board!” I reported between chortles.
“Get your arse up off the deck and come give me a hug!” she ordered. Zoe and Denno helped me to my feet, and Zoe got the first hug. I limped over the Max, Zoe under one arm and Denno under the other and gave Max a big hug as well. Behind her were the rest of the crew, they were all smiling, even Mal.
“I think I need a shower.” I declared.
Max agreed, “You definitely need a shower.”
“And a good sleep.”
“Not before I check you over.” said Zoe, “You’re wounded.”
“I’m fine, but okay. Can I shower first though? This fluid stinks.”
“Sure, but I’m with you. For observations.” she added as everyone started the chuckle. I didn’t mind. My face didn’t even go red. I let her help me walk to my cabin and disrobe, before she shoved me into the shower stall. I was pleased to note that someone had repaired the large hole in the side of the stall, and that hot water was back. I let the hot water wash away the strain and the muck that clung to me, and I was so engrossed in the sensation that I barely noticed Zoe slip into the shower with me until I felt her small hands encircle my neck.
It was good to be home.
Afterwards, we went down to the med lab, and I let her poke and prod me with several instruments before applying several patches and spraying my wounds with nanites and synth skin healing gels. My worst injury was my leg, which still throbbed. My other bad one was my arm where I’d been shot. It was my flesh arm this time, so there was no quick repair job to make the injury go away. I also had several burn marks and bruises, left overs from shots that had been mostly caught by my armour or shield. Zoe had given me a brief inspection before we’d made love in my cabin, and I think it was only our lust for each other that had stopped her from hauling my arse down here right away. While she fussed over me, she kept chiding herself about it muttering about her duty as a doctor ‘first and foremost’.
Dreaming of Atmosphere Page 43
