The Accidental Explorer

by George Deeb

  Mahna watched as three of his dhrojjas approached the surface of the moon, ready to release their bombs. He couldn't see what they were targeting, but it had to be the mining ship. Even just three ships could release enough bombs to cause a lot of damage. He had to admire their bravery, to be getting so close before releasing their weapons. It would insure that they hit the target. They were close to the release point and would drop the bombs at any fracin now. His tension and anger eased a little. He was going to enjoy knowing the surface of this moon, and he assumed the mining ship also, would be blown out into space as dust and debris. A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. This would be a very good show. As he watched the display screen, his three dhrojjas flickered out of existence.

  12

  The Folly dropped out of FTL when the Ion Drive shut down as it was programmed to. The pain the men were suffering immediately began to diminish. If judged by their last experience with FTL it would still be a while before it went away completely.

  “Everyone OK?” asked Smith, in a croaking voice.

  “I am alive.” replied Califas.

  Smith looked over at Washington. His eyes were closed and fluttering, and he wasn't moving.

  “WASHINGTON! WASHINGTON, WAKE UP!” yelled Smith while reaching over and shaking him. There was no reaction.

  “He is alive!” said Califas, looking at the biometric data from Washington's suit. “Brain activity is not normal. He is injured.”

  Smith was about to unbuckle his safety harness when the view in front of the ship caught his attention. Debris was spread throughout the area. What looked like bodies floated with all the ship parts, some in space suits and some without. His radar showed too many returns to count quickly, and only a handful of them were friendlies.

  “I see them also.” said Califas, unbuckling his harness and getting out of his seat.

  “What are you doing?”

  Califas released the unconscious Washington's harness, and lifted him out of the copilot seat.

  “The base is under attack. I can be more useful up here.” he answered while securing Washington in the rear seat. He took Washington's seat and strapped in. He quickly looked over the location of all the controls and hoped he could remember what he had learned about them. “No one has detected us yet.” he said pointing to the targeting screen. “Those three ships are heading for the base. We have to...”

  “Got it!” interjected Smith. “Are you familiar with the fire control system?” he asked as he moved the throttles forward.

  “I studied everything about this ship when I knew I was coming along on the test flight.” He tapped the touch screen in front of him. Guns and rocket launchers extended outward from the fuselage and wings.

  “Good man!” said Smith as he maneuvered towards the three threats. “I'll handle the guns. You lock on and fire those rockets as soon as you get target lock.”

  “I will. But how do I...”

  Smith reached over and set the controls for individual targeting.

  “When you get target acquisition one rocket will automatically be assigned to one target. They will both show the same iconic symbol to let you know which ones are paired up. Launch the rocket by touching it on the screen.”

  “Thank you.”

  Nothing else needed to be said. At that moment target lock was achieved. Califas touched three of the six rocket symbols on the left side of the screen. There was another six on the right side. Each symbol in turn changed from yellow to red and the word 'deployed' was flashed over them.

  “Sometimes fate is on our side and sometimes it is not.” he said to Smith. “The test flight was designated to be carried out with all systems operational, and because of that we are fully armed. Today, fate is on our side.”

  Both men watched the exhaust trails as the three rockets closed rapidly on the attacking ships. All three hit their targets. Smith's eyes went wide when he saw the size of the explosions that resulted, and he wondered if that was due to the type of explosive in the rockets or something that blew up in the ships. There was nothing left of the enemy but shards. 'Something to ask about at a later time.' he thought, and turned the Folly towards the nearest enemy targets.

  That was when the Folly started shaking, and the dark coating on the left wing blistered and ablated away. Then the structure underneath turned red, and then white, with increasing brightness, and they could hear a rumbling followed by the sound of partially melted metal tearing as the wing completely separated from the fuselage. They had been hit.

  The sound of liquids and gases escaping came to their ears next, followed by multiple 'fip – fip – fip' sounds of safety valves closing. The men quickly looked at each other, and then Smith pulled the ship up and to the right. He was surprised that he still had full control. The display panel showed the flight computer was automatically compensating for the lost thrusters of the left wing by adjusting the thrust direction of the main engine, and the output of the body and right wing thrusters.

  “I LOVE YOU COVE!” Smith yelled, while looking where the missing wing used to be.

  The targeting computer showed his attacker following close behind. It also showed another unidentified ship closing in on the enemy very fast. A second later the radar return of the enemy ship bloomed into a larger shape and then disappeared.

  13

  Joe Riley and Matt Pope tumbled through space, moving away from where their Moon Base shuttle had been destroyed. The small craft had taken a hell of a beating before the propulsion and life support systems failed (Credit to the ship's designers). Their ship had become the proverbial sitting duck, and several pirate ships were firing on them. There was nothing left to do but eject, which they did one after the other and just in time. The shuttle was turned into scrap by enemy fire just seconds later.

  Ejecting from a ship in space is not like ejecting from a plane on Earth. In space there is no gravity to pull back to the ground. Instead you just keep traveling in the direction you ejected, at pretty much the same speed you separated from the ship at. And of course you are continually tumbling. You're not supposed to tumble, but Hey! That's life. There is no air resistance to stop the tumbling. There was a parachute but out here is space it was useless. The ejection seats were designed to separate the person from the ship in a stable and straight line, and it probably works very well – on Earth. In space the slightest imbalance can affect the end result. Now the result was that Riley and Pope were rapidly flying through space in nothing but their space suits, still strapped to their ejection seats and tumbling at a slow and steady rate.

  Riley pressed the release on his harness and pushed back with his arms and legs, separating himself from the seat which moved away from him a few yards but continued to follow him. Pope had done the same. Pope had been hired by 361 to pilot his own ship, but there wasn't one available at the time. While waiting for a new Base shuttle Pope was temporarily assigned as Riley's copilot. Both of them continued on their way to open space accompanied by their now separated seats which traveled along the same path. They both saw the energy pulses that hit one of the seats and sent it hurtling away, and both looked in the direction the pulse came from to see a pirate ship heading for them. It was damaged, with sections of the hull missing. It was moving very slowly and seemed to be having a lot of trouble holding its course. The whole vessel would vibrate and suddenly change heading. Every time its nose veered off it was forced back towards them. That was the only reason they hadn't fired again.

  Riley understood one thing about what he was seeing – the people in that ship wanted to kill them – strictly for revenge. They were waiting until they were so close they couldn't miss. 'He's going to blame me for this.' he thought, glimpsing Pope as he rotated. 'If he wasn't given the temp assignment as my copilot he wouldn't be a defenseless target right now. He's going to be pissed if they kill us.'

  14

  Giell-sil-Dhona dropped his IGT fighter out of tetra-space close to the moon of the third planet. You never kno
w what you are going to confront when you do that and his ship, being one of the latest design IGT fighters, automatically deployed defensive systems and armed all weapons. His eyes locked on to a ship at a distance in front him. It had holes blown through its hull. Its internal gases and liquids were venting into space. Some of it was white, some blue, and some red. Some of it had frozen into ice and some was evaporating away.

  He instinctively knew it was a pirate ship, as he also instinctively knew that the solid projectiles that made those holes were still intact and traveling directly at him. He had flown into the path of someone else's gun fire. The fighter's armor could protect him from most of them but not all. Thousands of heelas of training kicked in without thought and he went to maximum power in a direct vertical climb, just as he saw those projectiles explode into a fine powder. He released the breath he had unconsciously been holding and inhaled deeply, quickly performing a visual survey and then studying his weapons targeting system. The display showed two friendlies, five unknowns, and eleven dhrojjas. His battle computer located and identified the Orysta on the moon's surface. He knew the Orysta was equipped with two shuttles. Where did the other five ships assisting those shuttles come from? The computer didn't recognize their design, but they were obviously fighting with the Orysta's shuttles against the dhrojjas.

  “Send status report to Eowaar. Dhrojjas attacking Orysta and unidentified friendly ships. Orysta on surface of third planet's moon. Engaging eleven enemy ships.”

  “Message and situation data transmitted to the Eowaar.” said the computer.

  “Give me targeting solutions on all dhrojjas engaged with friendlies and unknowns.”

  On his screen all ships were color coded. Red for the dhrojjas, green for Orysta's shuttles, and orange for the unknowns. Curved lines from the symbol that indicated his fighter were drawn to the enemy ships, each marked with the name of the suggested weapon to use. Dhona smiled to himself. He just loved this fighter. It was designated a multi-purpose ship but it could outperform any dedicated purpose fighter even in its designated role – and he was one of the few people who presently had one. Now he was going to probably be the only person to have the opportunity to apply many of its capabilities in actual combat.

  15

  “Matt...do you see that,... what's... going on?”

  “Yes. Amazing. What are we firing at those shits?”

  “I don't know. Must be from one of the Orysta's shuttles. I don't think we have anything that can do that.”

  “What about the Folly? Does she have it?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  Every time their bodies rotated into the position where they could see the battle, they strained to maintain their view. Pirate ships were blowing up one after the other, like they had been programmed to self destruct. At first it seemed random, but it was happening so consistently you could keep time by the flashes. The pirates were scattering, and running scared.

  “Their running! Those ass holes are running! They're scared now.”

  “Joe. The ship! It's almost on us!”

  Riley looked back at the pirate ship that had been stalking them. It was so close now that he could see the joints and attachments on the skin. He knew it was just a matter of seconds now.

  “I'm sorry Matt. For getting you into this situation. It was an honor fighting with you.”

  “What?... This is not your fault... not anyone's fault. Just the hazards of the job. Wish I had a gun. Even if it wouldn't stop the bastard, I'd still feel better shooting at the son of a bitch.”

  Riley chuckled at the comment. “Me too. Next time we carry guns... in big holsters... six shooters!”

  They both broke into laughter as they watched the nose of the ship slowly move back in their direction. Then its forward guns glowed as a steady, regular pulse of deadly energy started flying out. The ship wasn't on target yet, and as Riley and Pope watched it seemed the pulses formed an arcing stream that moved closer and closer to them.

  16

  Shuttle one moved as fast as the calculated safe speed given by the computer allowed. It was going to be close – and dangerous. They were moving into the fire zone of the dhrojja, but there was no other way. Their turret gun had literally been shot off of the ship. The damage to that gun had also made their forward gun inoperable – both guns were powered by the same now damaged energy source. They were out of the fight, and were about to attempt getting back to the Orysta when they spotted one last bit of good they could do in this battle. There was one very small chance of pulling it off without getting killed, and all on board had agreed to take the risk.

  As it approached the targets del Rio opened the cargo doors, and Mersuul pivoted the shuttle so that the opening was facing broadside. There would only be one shot at this. At this speed being misaligned would cause the death of their friends just as surely as the enemy's guns. The closure rate was very high, and Mersuul had to maneuver by eyesight, with very subtle touches of the controls. There were no sensors on the shuttle that could detect the two targets and allow the computer to fly the ship with the precision necessary. If she made a misjudgment the men would suffer serious injury or a painful death.

  “Five,... four,... three,...” the shuttles computer counted down, calculating the time from it starting position, the distance to target, and speed of the ship. “two,... contact.”

  The impact shuddered the shuttle.

  17

  Riley and Pope never saw shuttle one approaching at high speed. They had been fixated on the approaching stream of deadly energy pulses from the pirate ship. It was a total surprise and shock when their bodies contacted the cargo net that had been strung across the opening of the door. Del Rio immediately closed the cargo door as both men came through the opening. Mersuul commanded maximum speed, and the shuttle moved rapidly away from the approaching gunfire.

  The net was normally used to hold down heavy cargo, and keep it from shifting inside the shuttle. It was made of a strong fiber that was not designed to be very flexible. It was not soft and it was never intended to be used like this. The impact forces of the two bodies hitting it at high speed caused the net to stretch until both men slammed against the opposite wall of the shuttle. The impact was severe enough to break Pope's left arm and knock Riley unconscious with a concussion. As the net sprung back it slung the men against the now closed cargo door dislocating the unconscious Riley's right shoulder, while breaking Pope's jaw and cracking his right eye socket. Both were now slumped on the floor, unmoving.

  Mersuul maneuvered the shuttle away from the stream of the dhrojja's gun fire. She and Plessa looked back to see if they were safe, and saw the pirate being cut in two by fire from another ship. The opened hull ejected three bodies which jerked around for a moment and then floated motionless in space. None of them had been wearing their helmets.

  “Orysta shuttle, this is IGT interjection fighter pilot Lanor Dhona, off of the Eowaar. I am here to assist you.”

  “EOWAAR?” screamed Mersuul over the comm. “Did you say the Eowaar? The battle carrier Eowaar?”

  “That is correct. Who am I speaking to?”

  “This is Orysta navigator Mersuul-sil-Vaana.”

  There was a pause, and Mersuul thought her transmission wasn't received.

  “Vaana? Mersuul-sil-Vaana you said? Is that correct?”

  “Yes. That is correct. I am here with Chief Engineer Benua-sil-Plessa, and members of Earth's Trailblazer Moon Base.”

  “This is amazing!” said Dhona. “Is the rest of your crew alive? We thought you were all dead. Your uncle will be very happy to hear this. I'm transmitting a report to the Eowaar now.”

  Mersuul smiled and looked at Plessa and del Rio.

  “My uncle is here. He brought the Eowaar!” she said, her smile almost breaking her face.

  “That is excellent news!” said Plessa.

  “What's the Eowaar?”

  “The Eowaar is something you have never seen before.” Plessa said to del Rio. “I
t will amaze you.”

  “He said it was a battle carrier. Is that like a battle ship... or an aircraft carrier?”

  “It is all of that and much, much more. You have to see it to understand what it is. Are they alright?” he asked, looking at the two unconscious men.

  Del Rio looked back at the two men on the floor.