Derelict: Marines (Derelict Saga Book 1)

by Paul E. Cooley

  “T-minus one minute,” Taulbee’s voice said through the comms.

  Kali connected to the squad channel. “All right, marines. Pressurize and magnetize.” Her three marines acknowledged and she shut her own visor. The suit automatically drew atmosphere from the small pack on her back. Once her HUD went green, she connected the suit’s O2 cable to the skiff. The others, except for Dickerson, did the same. While in the skiff, they could use its O2 supply without wasting their own. The skiff’s magnetic field would keep it firmly attached to the deck when the cargo bay depressurized.

  “Dickerson,” she said, “make damned sure you activate your mag boots. Don’t want you floating away when the bay doors open.”

  “Aye, Corporal,” he said, insubordination obvious in his tone.

  “In ten,” Taulbee said over the comms.

  She kept her eyes forward, staring at the large sliding airlock doors. A yellow light began flashing and then turned red. Her HUD lit up with a warning and then Black’s voice followed. “Venting residual atmosphere. Good hunting, marines.” The light turned dark red. She took a long, deep breath, and held it as the giant doors slid past one another.

  There was no sound, but she felt the remaining air rush past her suit and into space. The skiff remained affixed to the deck. Less than fifty meters from Mira, she was all they could see. The giant starship spun end over end at a deceptively slow rate.

  “Cutting cargo bay grav-plates for vehicles and skids,” Taulbee said. “In ten.”

  The Lieutenant slowly counted down. Her HUD glowed yellow as the grav-plates ceased holding them down. The skiff stayed still without momentum to move it into space.

  “Dickerson? We ready?”

  The skiff shuddered as the rear magnet attached the thruster skid to the skiff. “Attached, Corporal.”

  “Good. Get in.”

  “Aye,” Dickerson said. She didn’t turn the pilot’s chair, but she felt the skiff shudder again. “In the rear with the gear,” he said.

  “Squad, all set?” Her marines rattled off affirmatives. “Lieutenant. Permission to leave the cargo bay.”

  “Granted,” Taulbee’s voice said. “Slow and easy, marines. Let’s get this done without a hitch.”

  Mira continued to roll before her. She focused on its center, the part of the ship moving the least, and hit the jets. The skiff rose nearly a meter off the deck. The rear camera view showed the thruster skid doing the same. Good. Everything was how it should be. She nudged the throttle forward and a jet of gas erupted from the skiff’s rear. At just a meter per second velocity, the skiff moved from the cargo bay and into space.

  S&R Black’s powerful lights illuminated much of Mira’s axis, but there were still shadows just beyond their rendezvous point. Kali kept her eyes focused on the target, nudging the throttle gently, first to starboard and then to port, to keep them on track. She increased the speed to three meters per second.

  Her HUD lit up with a side view. Gunny sat in his command chair, piloting his skiff to stay ten meters abreast. The two skiffs moved through space in tandem. Both the squad comms and the open comms were deathly silent; in the vacuum of space, she only heard the sound of her own breathing.

  They closed on Mira. “Twenty meters,” Kali called out. She heard Gunny call out the same distance. They were close enough to Mira that it was impossible to see below or above her. The derelict’s pitted gray hull continued its spin. She nudged the fore thrusters and the skiff slowed to one meter per second. “Gunny? Approaching rendezvous.”

  “Right beside you, Corporal.”

  Now was the tricky part. Flying a skiff across space was easy. Orienting the skiff so it would land on a moving target wasn’t. “Prepare for attitude match,” she said through the comms. By moving her left hand, she fired the rotation thrusters and the skiff began to cant. “How’s our cargo, Dickerson?”

  “We’re good, Corporal.”

  They were a mere five meters away from Mira now. She re-oriented the skiff so its bottom was just above the derelict's hull. Through her HUD, she saw Gunny doing the same. The two skiffs were less than five meters apart now, each rotating and rolling. Without gravity and with the two skiffs in perfect orientation with Mira, Kali could no longer even tell Mira was moving. The ship might as well have been a perfectly stationary object. Kali looked “up” from her command chair. S&R Black appeared to be rotating just as Mira had. The ship slowly disappeared from her field of view as the skiff rolled. The view was disorienting and she quickly flicked her eyes back to the holo display.

  “In position, Gunny,” she said.

  “Go for landing,” he said.

  She activated another set of thrusters and jets of gas puffed upward from the skiff’s sides. The skiff moved downward until it hovered half a meter above Mira’s hull. “Activating magnetics.” The Ray shuddered slightly as the skiff’s magnetic field powered up, holding their position just above the hull plates. She’d done it. They were now on Mira. “Attached,” she said over the open comms.

  “Same here. Lieutenant?” Gunny said. “Both skiffs attached. Do we have a go for thruster placement?”

  “Aye, Gunny. Good work, marines. Now let’s get her stabilized.”

  “Aye, sir,” Gunny said. “Kalimura. You know the drill. Any last minute questions?”

  “No, Gunny.”

  “Good. You heard the LT. Let’s do this.”

  “Aye.” She opened the squad channel. “Dickerson. Carbonaro. Take the first thrusters out. I want a clean grav-walk. Elliott? Get yourself on the hull, take the line gun, and spot for debris.”

  “Aye, Corporal,” Elliott said.

  Kali turned in place so she could watch Dickerson and Carbonaro. Dickerson was already out of the skiff and walking across the thruster skid. His magnetized boots alternately attached and detached as he walked, making it appear as though he were knee-deep in water. Carbonaro pulled herself the length of the skiff using her magnetic gloves and joined Dickerson on the skid. Elliott had already disengaged and was attached to the hull a meter away from the skiff. Elliott’s job was not only to look for close flying debris, but to act as a failsafe in case either Dickerson or Carbonaro had an issue. He held the line gun in his hands, ready to fire the tether to either marine if they needed it.

  The first set of thrusters would be used to stop Mira’s axial spin. According to Oakes and Black, they’d need four thrusters in total, two placed by her squad and another two by Gunny’s. That would leave them 16 total thrusters for the rest of the mission. Carbonaro and Dickerson each removed a thruster pack from the skid’s aft. Carbonaro attached one of her gloves to the thruster, Dickerson did the same with his own. He activated his suit thrusters and the pack rose from its skid-slot in a smooth, almost liquid motion. Carbonaro did the same with hers.

  “Sending coordinates,” Kalimura said to them and activated her block. On each of the marines’ HUDs, targets lit up in crimson. Dickerson had the spot forty meters down the hull. Carbonaro would place hers twenty meters down. Gunny’s squad had the opposite side. She watched as Dickerson expertly grav-walked down the hull. He passed Carbonaro and continued on his way, his legs constantly pumping.

  “Show off,” Carbonaro said.

  Kali tried not to laugh.

  Carbonaro reached her spot and placed the thruster. The half-meter tall device clamped onto the hull. She pressed the base down on the pack and puffs of gas rose into space as the built-in bolts shot into the Atmo-steel.

  Dickerson proceeded to do the same with his. When he finished, he looked past the thruster to several meters further down the hull. She watched as he walked away from the thruster. “Wow,” he said, “there’s some strange shit on the hull.”

  “What are you talking about?” Kali asked. Her HUD flashed and an image appeared in the lower left. She increased its size and studied it. Dickerson had sent her a picture of several 1/4 meter indentations on the Atmo-steel. It took a moment for her to realize she wasn’t looking at indentations
. Dickerson’s suit-lights illuminated several bristled, conical objects embedded in the steel. “Dickerson? Whatever those are, stay the hell away from them. We can take a sample of them after we get the ship stabilized.”

  “Aye,” Dickerson said. He lingered for a moment, his helmet-cam snapping still images. If her boots weren’t magnetized to the skiff, she would have tapped her foot.

  When he was done, he raised a thumb. “All good, Corporal.” He started grav-walking back to the skiff.

  “Carbonaro?”

  “Clear, Boss.”

  Kalimura opened her mouth to admonish her for the address, but chose not to. She had a feeling that was Carbonaro’s way of showing respect. It was a start, after all. “Good job. Let’s get back to—”

  “Corporal?” Elliott said. “We have a—”

  Black’s voice broke through the comms. “Marines. Ice shards are headed toward your position. Please use caution while grav-walking.”

  Her HUD flashed red twice and the warning compass showed her the direction of the hazard. Kali turned and scanned the area. Mira was still rolling as well as tumbling, but she caught sight of the ice floating in front of S&R Black’s lights. The shards glinted in the illumination looking like silver icicles. Her heartbeat rose slightly. The shatter storm was closer to S&R Black than Mira, but they still had to be watchful. Any of the shards might puncture a suit. Worse, they could knock an unsecured marine into space.

  “Carbonaro. Dickerson. Get back here. Now.”

  “Aye,” the two responded.

  Kali glanced at Elliott. His helmet pointed in the direction of the ice missiles traveling between the two ships. “Elliott? You spotted it?”

  “Yes, Corporal.”

  “Good job.”

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “Now get your ass in the skiff.”

  Elliott saluted, disengaged his boots, and pushed himself at the skiff. He flew through space for an instant before catching the lip with his magnetic gloves. He expertly climbed back into the vehicle and returned to his chair. She shook her head. Another show off in her squad.

  Carbonaro and Dickerson returned to the skiff. She took the gun mount while Dickerson retreated aft. Once sure her team was secure, she opened the comms channel. “Gunny. Thrusters placed, team recovered.”

  “Acknowledged,” Gunny said. “We’re going to wait until the storm passes before we fire them.”

  “Aye, Gunny,” she said.

  She spun in her chair and watched Gunny’s crew. Two of his marines were headed back to their skiff. Gunny stood from the command chair, his head moving slightly. She’d no doubt he was yelling at the non-rates over his squad’s channel. Kali grinned beneath her helmet. When he and Taulbee had put the most experienced marines in her squad, Gunny had signed himself up to deal with the newbies. It was unfair to him and, to be honest, them. She imagined being one of those marines, trying to accomplish their task all the while listening to his shouting through the comms. Better you than me, she thought.

  Gunny’s marines finally returned to the skiff. The two squads watched as the ice particles continued to streak between Mira and S&R Black. It was beautiful. Some of the ice shards were a deep blue rather than white. She wondered where the ice had come from and how far it had traveled. The gravity of the Kuiper Belt objects might not be enough to trap them. Hell, they might travel all the way to Pluto before finding a home in its orbit. If not, they might even make it to Neptune.

  It took nearly five minutes for the storm to pass. The tail end looked more like rock than ice. Whatever KBO or exo-solar object gave birth to the debris, it had likely been pulverized. She hoped whatever had hit it was nowhere near them.

  “The storm has passed,” Black said. “You may resume your mission, marines.”

  “Acknowledged,” Gunny said. “All right, marines. You heard the lady. Get moving.”

  “Aye, Gunny,” Kali said. “Crew. Prepare for launch.” She checked once more to ensure her squad was situated and demagnetized the skiff. She nudged the Ray off the hull with a blast from the thrusters and the vehicle rose. The skiff flew backward and away from Mira. Gunny’s skiff followed hers until they were between S&R Black and the giant derelict.

  “Marines,” Black said over the comms, “we are ready to fire thrusters.”

  “Acknowledged,” Gunny said. “Light it up.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Taulbee watched the skiffs depart from the cargo bay using the SV-52’s camera. Kalimura and Gunny piloted them nearly side by side out into space. Taulbee couldn’t help but grin. Kalimura was going to make a fine NCO after all. Maybe when they returned to Neptune, he, Gunny, and the Captain could pass her on z-g combat. After all, what was better than real-life experience?

  When the skiffs neared Mira, he activated his private comms to the command crew. “Lieutenant Taulbee requesting permission to leave the bay.”

  “Permission granted,” Dunn said. “Good hunting.”

  “Thank you, sir.” He put his hands on the interface and activated the throttle with his index finger. Jets of gas puffed from the rear of the vehicle, pushing it silently forward. At one meter per second, the vehicle slid from the bay and into space. Once his HUD glowed green, announcing he was clear of S&R Black, he increased speed to five meters per second. Taulbee quickly pumped the attitude thrusters pushing the vehicle “up” and away from Mira and the skiffs. He wanted to watch them work from a safe distance. He also wanted to take a look at Mira’s hull.

  The holo-display flashed with live video feeds from both Kalimura’s and Gunny’s helmet cams. Through Kalimura’s cam, he watched as Dickerson grav-walked quickly down the hull. He grinned. Dickerson always was a damned space-monkey when he wanted to be. The marine was incredibly skilled at z-g maneuvers. Taulbee wished all of his marines were as competent.

  He increased the positive vector until Mira sat directly below the vehicle. He activated the cameras and began taking video at 200fps. There wasn’t time for him to understand what he was looking at, much less analyze it, but the feeds dumped into Black. Data was what they needed. Raw, unfiltered, un-fucked-with data. Black could quickly process the images and determine additional damage or ingress/egress points.

  He glanced again at the marine feeds. Dickerson had placed his thruster, but had moved past it. He changed channels to hear Kalimura’s squad and listened. Dickerson mentioned something about indentations on the hull. Then the images appeared on Taulbee’s holo-display. “Black? Any idea what those are?”

  The AI immediately responded through the private comm. “No, Lieutenant. The images are hardly well-lit and meaningful analysis is impossible at this point. Perhaps we can get a sample?”

  He heard Kalimura tell Dickerson to leave his discoveries alone until after Mira was stabilized. Taulbee could have overridden her, but he didn’t. She was right. They had to complete the tasks in the right order, or they’d never get Mira safe, much less accomplish their actual mission.

  “I’ll add it to the list of things to do later,” he told the AI.

  “Acknowledged, Lieutenant,” Black said. The AI’s voice sounded disappointed. He felt a shiver run down his spine. Whatever upgrade the Trio had applied to S&R Black had certainly made her more helpful, but the personality changes were creepy.

  He broke the private comm and immediately felt less exposed. With a few expert adjustments, the SV-52 matched Mira’s tumble. The giant ship rolled slowly beneath him. With the cameras still running, he should be able to get just about all the data they could possibly need.

  Piloting the vehicle to the bow, he rotated the SV-52 using the attitude thrusters, and began a 5-meter-per-second fly-by of the hull. The personnel decks appeared intact with no more than a few punctures. Whatever had hit Mira’s bow had done so with precision and little damage. The punctures looked to have been immediately blistered closed by the integrity systems. Although Mira was more than fifty years old, the technology to suture its own hull had been aroun
d for nearly a century. The systems couldn’t repair moderate or severe damage, but it was perfect for sealing small perforations from micro-meteorites. Still, what the hell had hit the hull?

  As he continued his flight, Black warned the marines of a shatter storm. Taulbee checked his sensors. The ice and rock shards were well beneath him. Besides, the vehicle was made to weather some debris impacts. So long as a large KBO didn’t come out of nowhere and smack him, the ‘52 would be fine.

  Captured in Black’s powerful floodlights, the shards glistened and sparkled. They were beautiful, like watching a sideways rain in space. He tried to focus on the images of the hull flashing across the display, but the storm had completely captured his attention. By the time he was halfway down the hull, the storm had started to pass. With a pang of regret, he flicked his eyes back to the images. He was coming up on the engineering decks now.

  Black’s assessment that an explosion had occurred near the reactors was spot on. The Atmo-steel had curled outward like a blooming flower. “Jehovah,” Taulbee muttered. They would have to send a nano-probe inside to determine deck integrity. Something causing an explosion of that size would almost certainly have vaporized the interior deck, if not significantly damaged the others. He made a note in his block with a timestamp of the video feed. Once Mira was stable and under tow, he’d have to make a decision on how to approach engineering.

  He gazed out the canopy to the darkness of space. Shadowy objects moved across the pinpoint lights of far-away stars. He frowned. This area of the Kuiper Belt was far more crowded than he’d hoped. Black was right. If they left Mira out here too long, she’d probably be smacked by large balls of rock and ice. Considering the damage already done to engineering, a large enough impact could split Mira in two or more pieces. That would end their mission in a hurry.