It wasn't a situation they trained you for in the academy. Shit, half the situations he'd already been thrust into weren't part of his training.
Bremerton's comm beeped. It was Commander Vaughn. "I take it you have some good news."
"More bad than good," the man replied. He almost sounded winded as if he'd finished a five-kilometer run through the ship.
"Explain," Bremerton replied, leaning forward into his chair.
"Well, the good news is that the anomaly is operational. Richards is studying the language used to operate the device now, but expects it to be ready in a few minutes."
Bremerton smiled. That was good news. Possibly the best news he'd heard in a long time. With the anomaly working, they might catch up to the scavenger and save the captain.
He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath to prepare himself for the rest. "And the bad?"
"The bad news is the flight deck, and surrounding levels are on lockdown. The power supply on the anomaly emits significant amounts of radiation. Nearly lost one of my engineers the moment we turned it on."
"Wait, so you're telling me the main flight deck and surrounding levels are inaccessible? How long will that be the case?"
"Until we power down the anomaly as far as we can tell. That will be a challenge considering we have to be on top of it to shut it down."
"Well, shit," Bremerton replied. "Guess we better hope we don't need the pilots soon."
"Considering they're on security detail, it's not a bad thing," Vaughn replied. "Speaking of which, I heard Valarie was up there. Can you pass along the information about the flight deck to her? Hate to have her getting mad at me for ordering her pilots around."
Bremerton's mind went back to the pilot's assault on the bridge. How he watched her die in the opening salvo of the attack, the victim of a well-placed shot to the chest.
"Valarie is dead," Bremerton replied, somberly. "Died rescuing us up here on the bridge. Lieutenant Bradly is handling those duties though she is currently overseeing the detainment of some of the staff. I'll pass the information along when I see her next."
"Damn shame. She was one of the good ones." The line remained silent for a few moments before Vaughn continued. "I'll return to help the crews do what we can with the thrusters. In the meantime, I sent Richards back to you. Figured he'd be more use to you up there than to me down here."
The door opened, and Richards' haggard form stepped through the door, winded and covered in sweat. Apparently, Vaughn had ordered him to run up to the bridge.
"He just stepped through the door now. I appreciate everything, Vaughn. Bremerton, out." Jason cut the transmission before strolling to meet the engineer who struggled to give him a sloppy salute. "Save the formalities for later. Tell me what Vaughn says is true."
"Not sure what he said," Richards said, panting. "But the device is operational, and I seem to have control."
"So we can do the same trick the scavengers did? A jump?"
"Yes and no."
"Yes and no? Explain."
"We can do the jumps." Richards stood upright and offered Bremerton the datapad. "The language is foreign, but I know what each of the commands does. One turns the device off and on. The next forces it to draw power from the ship's systems into a handful of cylindrical collectors inside the anomaly while the last allows us to jump. The problem is I don't know anything about programming vectors and routes."
"Then let Ensign Price handle it. She programs routes and vectors every day."
"It's not as simple as that. But I believe if I can attach the device to her console we may be able to work together to make it work."
Bremerton beamed. "You made it sound like it would be complicated. Ensign Price, I hope you don't mind sharing your seat with our sweat-soaked engineer."
Price glanced back at Richards and nearly gagged. "All things considered, I think I'll stand, sir."
The bridge erupted into a batch of light-hearted laughter, including Richards as he strode towards the console.
Sitting down in her chair, he plugged his datapad into the device. Within seconds he'd programmed the anomaly algorithms into the shipboard system and brought up the commands on her console. He then took a few moments to go over how the device worked, telling her which commands did what before allowing her to have her chair.
"Take it you're about ready?" Bremerton asked as she took her chair.
"Just need to reprogram our approach vector to disregard the nearest available gates. Give me ten seconds." Ten seconds later, she breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in her chair. She regretted it immediately as her uniform soaked up most of Richards' sweat. "Approach vector programmed. Awaiting your command to initiate the drive."
"Do it."
Chapter Fifty
Lebrea Sector
Bridge, NECS Endeavor
Tegan led the last group of marines back down the hall. Flanked by four of her well-armed pilots, there was little chance the marines could get away. She'd interviewed each marine, both in a group setting and as individuals and was confident the ones that remained were responsible for the attempted coup. If they weren't, well then the NEC could sort them out when they got back to a station. Until then the rest of them were going to sit in the brig.
"This is bullshit," one of them spat as she pushed him back into the cell. "I'm going to file a grievance with the corps when we get back to port."
Tegan sighed and stepped back as a pilot moved in to lock the door. It took every ounce of patience in her body to keep from telling each one of them off. Either they had the balls to take over the ship and deserved to be here, or they lacked a pair which made this a good holding point as any. In any case, the matter was out of her hands. Unless Commander Bremerton wanted to come down here and question them all himself, there was nothing more to do.
The pilot at her side fumbled at his hip for the keys. He lowered his blaster just enough to make Tegan anxious as she expected one of the men to strike. But to their credit, they stood well away from the door while the pilot did his thing.
"Hurry already, Cadet. We don't have all day."
"Sorry, Bobcat. I'm not used to doing this sort of thing."
You don't say. "It's alright. Just hurry so we can get back to work."
A few seconds later the cadet held up the key in triumph. For the first time since they'd been put into the cells, the marines laughed at the kid holding it like King Arthur holding Excalibur into the sky. Tegan bit her lip to keep from joining them.
Once he realized the laughter was directed at him, the kid blushed and went to insert the key into the door. As soon as the key entered the hole, a wave of sickness washed over them. Tegan doubled over, the contents of her lunch exited her stomach at an alarming rate. The other pilots fared no better, each struggling to keep down their last meals as their bodies came to terms with whatever had happened. Likely they'd just passed through a gate. The symptoms seemed severe for something they do multiple times on most days, but nothing out of the norms.
Using the walls as leverage, she picked herself back to her feet in time to watch a marine push through the door. The door caught the cadet in the head, knocking him into the muck. Within seconds two more of the marines pushed through the door behind him.
The three men stopped outside long enough to glance both ways down the hall before running away from the armed pilots. Tegan expected them to make a pass for the weapons but was glad they'd opted to avoid a fight.
She tried to order her three remaining pilots to follow the marines, but couldn't find the words as the strong odor combined with the jump sickness threatened to double her over again. Instead of fighting against it, she bent down and retrieved the key from the unconscious pilot and locked the remaining marine into the cell. She remained by the door for a long moment, taking in the air as her lungs would allow without throwing up again. Once her stomach settled enough to speak, she stood up and tapped her comm.
"CAG to the bridge."
; Silence.
She tried again, but the line was as quiet as before.
"Switch, try your comm."
He pulled his comm device out of his pocket and pressed the button. "Switch to the bridge. You copy?"
Silence again.
"Something fry the electronics?" Switch asked as he slammed the device into the palm of his hand.
"Yeah, the anomaly. Guess that meant we took our first jump." Tegan fumed. Why the hell hadn't the commander warned them ahead of time. Surely he would've expected the effects to be the same as a jump, if not worse. Now they were facing the reality that three of the marines were loose on the ship. Three men who'd been trained in both armed and unarmed combat and more than capable of disabling nearly everyone still left on the ship.
"We need to find a terminal and call the bridge. See if we have any better luck with a direct line."
"Maybe," Switch shrugged.
"Stay here with the cadet. Make sure nothing happens to him. I'll head back to the interrogation room and call the bridge. I'll drop a line to sickbay while I'm at it. Have Doc Simmons send down someone to help." She strode to the two remaining pilots, ordered one to stay with Switch while the other joined her.
Running at a jog, they reached the room a few seconds later. Once inside, Tegan entered her credentials in the computer and opened a comm.
"CAG to bridge. Commander, do you copy?"
Nothing.
She tried again for good measure and got the same result.
"Guess we have to do this the hard way." She reached into her holster and retrieved her portable blaster. "Hope you're up for a jog."
Chapter Fifty-One
Unknown Space
Scavenger
"Well Captain, what now?" Walker pressed against the bars, testing their strength.
"Not sure," he replied, unsure of himself for the first time since entering the ship. They'd taken their weapons before placing them in the brig, making their already low odds even worse. Not only that, they were stuck behind bars to await whatever fate the aliens had for them.
Without the constant adrenaline of combat and movement, his leg throbbed. With every passing second, he wished for the vial of pain relievers Walker had offered earlier. Only it was even too late for that, as that too had been confiscated, leaving the men with little more than the clothes on their backs.
"Sir, if I may," one of the marines in Wellard's cell pushed through the overloaded cell. The tall, skinny man seemed out of place against the squadron of marines. He snapped into a salute as he barked his name. "PFC Ryan Talbot, combat control."
"Combat control? Didn't think they assigned you guys to ships. Too valuable to the ground forces or some shit." Combat controllers were specialized ground troops who were often assigned to assist in the coordination of ground troops. While they were expected to take part in whatever mission his squadron had been assigned, his primary job was to coordinate movements between units on the ground and in the air. These were the guys who are responsible for calling in air support to strike an entrenched foe, or to coordinate a strategic retreat.
"We're still assigned to ships in case a ground assault becomes prudent. Not only that, we can fill crucial roles on the ship, should casualties make such a change prudent."
Wellard nodded. "I know what your job is son, what I'm trying to figure out is how it helps us in here."
"Talbot isn't a Richards by any means," Walker interrupted. "But he's as close as we got."
"I don't want to make you any promises, sir, but I believe I may be able to get us out of this mess. If the sergeant will be my eyes that is."
Walker perked up. "Shit son, I'll be anything short of your girlfriend if you can get us out of these damned cells. And even that's up for debate."
Talbot glanced down to Wellard. "Sir?"
"By all means, Private." Grunting in pain, he stood on his feet with the help of a few marines. The men helped him across the cell to the bench on the other side where they lowered him down once again.
Talbot pushed himself against the corner of the cell and slipped his scrawny arm between the bars. He stopped when his hand passed over the smooth surface of the screen.
"Don't tell me you're planning on hacking that thing without looking at it," Wellard said.
"No, sir. Waste of time if I can't see it and adjust myself." Talbot pulled his arm back through the bars then brought his hand to his throat. With a jerk, he pulled the metal chain holding his dog tags free. "Might be able to short it out, though."
Wellard grinned. "That might just work."
"That's what I was thinking. These ships weren't designed with prisoner transport in mind. Playing the odds, they don't have the same safeguards we have in place on our vessels."
"Doubt it. Bet the captains of these ships were more likely to airlock a problem crew member rather than lock him up and risk him going free. It's the only real way to guarantee he didn't end up on another one of your vessels."
With a grunt, Talbot pressed his body against the bar to get as much reach as he could. His hand fumbled against the wall until it once again rested on the smooth surface of the screen. He worked his hand back until he felt the edge and the small crevice that held the primary screen in place.
He jammed his dog tags into the gap and forced them inside. It took a few minutes of wiggling to get the front panel wedged away from the wall far enough to slip his fingers into the larger gap.
Talbot pulled his arm back through the gap and placed the tags in his shirt pocket before reaching out once more. He forced his fingers through the larger gap and with a grunt, ripped the panel free.
"This is where I need your help, sir. There should be four wires inside. Red, green, white, and black. I need you to direct my hand towards the red one."
"Few inches up. Just under the lip of the console."
Talbot fumbled for a few moments before his hand rested against a wire. "This one?"
"Yep."
"Good." Talbot wrapped his fingers around the wire and ripped it away from the console. Klaxons blared as he did, the sound echoing through the brig and ringing their ears. Talbot closed his eyes and moved the wire toward him until the exposed wire rested against the frame of the console. The act plunged the room into darkness. It also had the added effect of silencing the alarm and causing the locks on the doors to click open.
"Well, well. Good job, son." Wellard said.
"Standard safety protocol. If the ship loses power, you don't want to risk people getting stuck inside the cargo bays."
With the help of a pair of marines, Wellard got back to his feet sending a jolt of searing pain up from the wound.
"You going to be OK to walk?" Walker asked, stepping across the hallway to help stabilize Wellard.
"I'll be okay once we get moving." He took a step which made the pain intensify. "That may be a challenge, though."
"We have you covered."
Walker ordered most of the marines to the front of the hall, leaving only himself and another pair in the rear with the captain. Wellard didn't care for being protected like that, but considering his injury, he wasn't in any position to argue.
"Orders?" the marine leading the pack said.
"First, we find our weapons. Then we take the bridge."
Walker's grin was barely noticeable in the darkness. "You heard the captain. Let's relieve the ship of its alien presence."
The lead marines pressed their bodies against the massive double doors. Putting all their strength into it, they forced it open only to be welcomed by three ugly looking Klyptons on the other side.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Lebrea Sector
Bridge, NECS Endeavor
A wave of nausea hit Bremerton as the ship made the jump. Onscreen he watched as it switched from a star-sparkled view to that of a rocky planet. At a glance, he couldn't tell where the ship was, only that it wasn't where it was a moment ago.
The rest of the bridge crew was having a similar reaction
though some much more severe. Symptoms ranged from slight dizziness, disorientation, all the way to massive vomiting.
Wilson seemed to have the most severe reaction. The man was doubled over at his console, relieving his stomach of his contents while holding his head. Once one round was finished, he lifted his head only for another round to start anew.
Bremerton wondered if the crew of the scavenger was experiencing the same thing. Or if by some miracle they'd found a way to shield themselves away from the worst of the effects.
The latter had to be the case. Otherwise, they wouldn't have been able to attack so soon after a jump. That, or whoever was onboard could recover much faster than them. Perhaps, like the jump gates, it was something you got used to in time. That or never passed through the thresholds again. While those still sickened the crew, it was not to this level. He wondered how much the radiation below was having an effect.
"Status?" Bremerton barked, once he was sure he wouldn't vomit from the effort.
"Other than the thrusters, shipboard systems are registering normal."
Bremerton pressed a button activating his comm. "Bridge to Commander Vaughn."
Silence.
He pressed the button again, trying the command one more time with the same result.
"McRee, you having any luck?"
"Negative, Commander. Something in the jump shorted out our communication channels. I'm rebooting the system to see if I can bring them back online."
"Well, shit. Looks like you not only activated the anomaly's jump feature, you also turned on the communications blocker. I don't assume that's something you can fix from up here."
"I don't think so," Richards answered. "Doubt it's anything we can fix at all. We likely get both effects or neither."
"In that case, having short-term access to the jump drive is more valuable than communications. Long term, however, that will be a problem. I want you to head down to engineering and speak to Vaughn. See if the two of you can come up with a temporary solution. Barring that, a way for us to turn the damned thing off once we catch the vessel. Otherwise, it may be a very short fight."
Infamy (The Mythrar War Book 2) Page 17
