That was why his non-rates were such a pain in the ass. They simply didn’t have the experience apart from dome drills and the occasional trip outside the station. He’d have to fix that. Right now, however, he needed to fix their goddamned maneuvering to place the goddamned thrusters.
He hadn’t wanted to baby them, but in the end, it seemed the safest way to accomplish the mission. PFC Copenhaver and Private Lyke grav-walked over the fractured engineering bay like little kids afraid to step on a crack. In a way, he couldn’t blame them.
Gunnery Sergeant Cartwright had made the decision to start on the top of the hull rather than the bottom, mostly because the bottom part of the hull was in worse shape than the top. With Mira’s roll stabilized, it was easy to see the damage to the engineering section. He was surprised it hadn’t collapsed on itself.
The way the Atmo-steel had exploded outward like a blooming flower confirmed that something in the engineering section had detonated. The curled-up edges of the giant hole in the hull might as well have been metal petals marked and blackened by extreme heat. Even from twenty meters away, the individual layers making up the metal composite were easily visible. Whatever had managed to make that hole had to have been catastrophically severe. It was like someone had set off a nuke inside the ship.
Lyke grav-walked across the hull, his helmet cast down at his feet. The Private was breathing too heavily and going through oxygen as if he had an inexhaustible supply. Gunny had already yelled at him twice to cut it the fuck out and breathe normally, but the twenty year old didn’t seem to understand. It was just another failure of training in the goddamned domes.
“Lyke,” Gunny said, “if you keep breathing like that, I’m going to rip off your helmet and let your lungs experience vacuum. Got it?”
“Aye, Gunny,” Lyke said, his voice sounding as though he was close to hyper-ventilating.
Gunny rolled his eyes, calmed himself, and tried again. “Look, son. You’re going to hyper-ventilate and end up passing out. We don’t want that, do we?”
“No, Gunny.”
“No, we don’t. So calm down. Breathe with me.” Gunny made as much noise as possible with his breathing, listening closely to make sure Lyke was following his example. After a moment, it seemed to be working. “That’s right, breathe deep, exhale slowly. There. Feel better?”
“Aye, Gunny,” Lyke said.
“Good. Now let’s get these thrusters placed so we can get the hell out of here.” He switched his attention to Copenhaver. She was doing much better. Ranked PFC, she at least had more experience than just z-g boot, but her technique needed a lot of work. The view through her HUD was like being on a see-saw. Christ, but her grav-walk was difficult to watch.
Gunny made another mental note. He’d have Dickerson and Carbonaro teach these kids how to properly grav-walk. “Copenhaver. What’s your status?”
“Fine, Gunny,” she said. She at least knew how to breathe properly. She was no more than five meters from her spot.
Kalimura’s crew had the easy job. The planar personnel decks provided for simple ingress and egress points. Hell, she could probably joyride up there without ever nearing an obstacle. But the engineering decks offered a real challenge. To contain the fusion reactors, help the ion engines distribute heat, house the kilometers of cables, connections, and whatever else they threw in during construction, engineering was all angles. The furthermost aft portion of the ship looked more like a series of fan blades stacked atop one another. With the ship still tumbling through space, finding the right attitude for the skiff had been hell. Even after getting the rotation correct, he’d had to move the skiff multiple times to drop the marines off on the target plates.
After Taulbee’s flyby, Black had adjusted the coordinates to compensate for the extensive damage. Black had even warned him that some of the plates may be unstable, depending on whether or not the supports had been vaporized by the explosion. So far, though, so good.
Lyke had finally reached his spot. The private held the thruster with both hands, seemingly afraid of dropping it. The marine hadn’t realized his mag-gloves made that a near impossibility. Unless, of course, he turned them off. Gunny shook his head. Through Lyke’s helmet cam, he watched as the marine bent at the waist and placed the thruster on the hull.
“Gunny. Thruster in place and all lights are green.”
“Good,” he said. “Get back here. And watch the serrated edges around the hole. I don’t want you ripping your suit. Understood?”
“Acknowledged.” Lyke’s voice now had a hint of fear.
He shouldn’t have said it. He shouldn’t have said it and he knew why. The boy was already scared to death. Cartwright switched views to Copenhaver. The PFC had finished placing her first thruster and was grav-walking further down the hull. Through her helmet cam, he saw the pockmarked and dented Atmo-steel. Whatever caused the explosion certainly hadn’t caused this damage. Instead of bubbling outward, the steel looked crumpled in places as though something very large had smashed into it. Mira had been lucky the entire engineering section of the ship hadn’t been ripped away. The camera view shifted slightly and he raised his eyebrows.
“Gunny?” Copenhaver asked. “The steel looks melted in places.”
He nodded to himself. “I see it, PFC. Stop your progress and give me a low 360°.”
The camera view lowered half a meter and then began to turn in an awkward circle. Gunny studied the hull through the images. This didn’t make sense. Atmo-steel had a ridiculously high melting point. But Copenhaver was right. Several patches on the hull looked as though they had turned to liquid and then returned to a solid. Runners of molten steel had spread out like infected veins.
Black, are you seeing this?
Yes, Gunny.
What is that?
The AI paused for a moment. I believe PFC Copenhaver’s assessment is correct. The hull looks to have been melted by incredibly high heat.
What could do that?
Unknown, the AI said. Is it safe for PFC Copenhaver to acquire a sample?
Gunny blinked. Was it safe? Good question. And how the fuck should he know? “Copenhaver. Do me a favor and do not step on any portions of damaged hull. I repeat, do not step on any of the melted areas. Understood?”
“Acknowledged,” she said.
“Go ahead and place your next thruster. Step carefully.”
“Aye, Gunny.”
Sample. Shit. That could wait until after they accomplished the damned mission. If they managed to correct the tumble, they’d have time to scour the hull and really assess the damage. Black could then analyze the metal as much as she wanted.
He flipped his attention back to Lyke. The young marine was less than five meters away from the skiff. Gunny breathed a sigh of relief. At one point, he’d been afraid the boy would freeze. He’d seen it more than once. Get them out of z-g boot, get them through the simulations and drills, and then the first time they really see the black, the utter void of space beyond their suit and their mates and the safety of their ship, they simply shut down. Not for the first time, Gunny found it amazing the human brain could even function knowing it was surrounded by death with only a flimsy suit to keep it alive.
Lyke clumsily stepped into the skiff and firmly planted his boots.
“Good job, marine,” Gunny said to him.
“Thanks, Gunny.”
He filled his HUD with Copenhaver’s helmet cam. She had resumed her walk, but at a much more cautious pace. Toward Mira’s tail, the patches of melted steel increased in frequency. Her last thruster target was five meters away, but she had to choose her steps more carefully.
“Marines,” he said over the channel, “strap in. We’re going to move the skiff closer to Copenhaver.” The affirmatives sounded off in his ears. He took the command chair, instructed Private Niro to keep watch on Copenhaver, and started to change the skiff’s attitude.
He hadn’t wanted to move the skiff any closer to the rear plates. Black had alread
y warned him that if another shatter storm presented itself, they’d have almost no cover. Unlike the mid-ships and fore-decks, Mira’s ass end was the widest part of the ship and therefore, there was no cover at all. Marines could hide themselves in the plate overlaps, but the skiff was much too large to enjoy the same protection. “Murdock. You’re the lookout for debris.”
“Aye, Gunny.”
Cartwright pushed the thrusters and rotated the skiff 90°. Thirty meters separated the skiff from Copenhaver and he had to go damned slow. Gunny brought the Ray to 1/4 meter per second velocity, eyes constantly flicking between the view ahead and the cameras displaying the hull below. It took him more than a minute to cut the distance with his heart hammering in his chest the entire journey. Constantly adjusting the vector as well as their altitude, he finally managed to bring the skiff within five meters.
He brought the Ray to a halt and took a deep breath. “Murdock. Get ready with that line gun. Just in case.”
Copenhaver awkwardly stepped over a large melted plate and brought her boot down just beyond it. He heard her take a deep breath before she detached the other foot and brought it forward. For a moment, he was sure she’d lose her balance, but she didn’t. She brought the boot down and stood for a moment, her breath coming in rasps.
“Easy, PFC. You got this. One more meter and you’re done,” Gunny said.
“Aye, Gunny,” Copenhaver said.
She paused a few seconds before resuming the grav-walk. Now closer to the damage, Gunny realized the extent of it; the hull was a beach littered with tidal pools of once melted metal.
Copenhaver stopped, bent at the waist, and placed the thruster on the hull. She tapped the side with a finger and a series of green lights came to life. “It’s placed, Gunny,” she said.
“Good job, marine. Take your time getting back here.”
“Aye, Gunny.”
The seconds ticked by as Copenhaver made her way back to the skiff.
Black? We placed that thruster in the middle of the damaged area. Do you think there will be any issues?
Unknown, the AI said. But if a thruster failure occurs, we have enough redundancy to compensate.
Well, that didn’t exactly answer the question, now did it? Gunny gritted his teeth, suddenly wishing the goddamned company had a metallurgist or engineer.
Copenhaver finally reached the skiff. Surprisingly, she climbed in with an air of elegance. Gunny smiled. She was hardly an expert at grav-walking, but she had good instincts. Dickerson and Carbonaro might be able to turn her into something after all.
“Gunny to Taulbee.”
“Go, Gunny.”
“Sir, we’ve finished up top. Kalimura is already heading beneath to place her last four thrusters. Permission to resume.”
“Granted,” Taulbee said. “I’m beneath the ship now. You’re in for a treat, Gunny.”
“Hoo-rah,” Gunny growled. “Care to elaborate, sir?”
Taulbee chuckled. “I can’t describe it. You let me know what you think when you see it.”
“Outstanding, sir,” Gunny said. After making sure his marines were ready, he maneuvered the skiff away from the hull and started the descent to reach Mira’s underbelly.
Chapter Thirty-Five
After performing his first slow flyby of the top portion of the hull, he flipped the ‘52 and decided to inspect the ship’s bow. The bulbous front of the personnel decks stuck out slightly from the otherwise rectangular fuselage. He set his speed to 1m/s and shined the lights across the starboard side. The antenna cluster protruding from the bow was smashed. A large KBO or something similar had obviously impacted with the ship at a high rate of speed.
What should have been an octagonal platform with multiple antennae was little more than a crushed divot in the hull. The other antenna clusters on the top of the hull had also been damaged, but not to this extent. Whatever hit Mira had destroyed the equipment but didn’t appear to have broken through. He marked the area for further hull inspection and continued on.
The cameras picked up more of those pinecone-looking things embedded in the Atmo-steel. “Black,” he said over the private comms, “have you figured what those things are yet?”
“No,” she said. “A sample would help, but I understand the necessity to wait until Mira is stabilized.”
“You have enough hi-res images of them?”
“Yes, Lieutenant. Your hull scans have been extremely helpful.”
Not helpful enough, he thought. Otherwise, you’d have a damned answer for me.
“Okay, I’ll continue scanning.”
“The scan of the bow is also very illuminating,” the AI said. “Obviously something large hit the ship. However, without samples and a check of the hull integrity in that spot, I can’t say if the impact has had any serious effect on life support systems or led to a loss of pressure.”
“Makes sense,” he said. “We’ll make sure we send Kalimura’s team to the spot for a full inspection.”
The AI went silent as he continued his relatively short fly-by. The very front of the personnel decks was more than 100 meters from top to bottom before it melded with the more rectangular portion behind it. After the meeting with Kalimura and Dickerson, he didn’t think they could trust the interior schematics the Trio had sent them. However, the array of thick, transparent windows told him he’d found the bridge.
Taulbee brought the SV-52 to a stop and rotated so its lights focused on the band of windows. With the exception of a single window, the shutters were in place blocking the light. He moved the vehicle to the one exposed window and refocused.
Objects floated behind the aluminum. He couldn’t make out any details, but he was certain he saw several bodies moving. Bodies? Corpses, you mean. The bridge was dead. No lights, no signs of life. Mira was little more than a vast expensive tomb. “Black? You getting this?”
“Yes, Lieutenant,” the AI responded.
“Are those bodies?”
“They appear to be, Lieutenant, although it’s impossible to know for sure. I can say with certainty that if they are bodies, they have suffered extensive damage, possibly from decompression.”
He frowned. “Why do you say that? What makes you think there’s damage?”
When the AI spoke, he detected smugness in her voice. “Because, Lieutenant, the bodies are not intact. Several of the smaller objects appear to be limbs and possibly heads.”
Taulbee shivered. He reoriented the vehicle and continued moving across the bow. Apart from the demolished antenna cluster, the rest of the bow looked unblemished except for the expected impacts from micro-meteorites and exo-solar dust. When you were traveling at 1/5 of light speed, hitting anything was going to leave a mark.
He checked his fuel gauge and frowned. Unlike the skiffs, which could use their magnetics to keep them close to the hull or attach to it, the support vehicle’s thrusters had to constantly fire to match Mira’s tumble. That meant he was using fuel at a rapid pace. He had maybe another twenty minutes before he had to return to S&R Black. At least the on-board AI had been able to handle the attitude adjustments for him. All he’d had to do was focus on where he wanted to go.
Time to quit fucking around, he thought. He piloted the vehicle to just below the bow, flipped it 180°, and began a quick flyby. Mira’s bottom was more heavily damaged than he’d first thought. The ship’s lowermost decking had to have lost pressure. He saw multiple fissures between Atmo-steel plates as well as several holes in the plating, the largest at least 2 meters in diameter. Kalimura and her crew would have fun in this area.
He pushed the thrusters again and roared past the rest of the personnel section. The mid-ships were in better shape, but not by much. Whatever mishap had occurred, the damage was much more extensive on the lower decking. But he was unprepared for what he saw at the engineering section.
One end of an entire plate had ripped free from its welds. The partially free plate looked like a ramp into utter darkness. He swung the lights at
it and his eyes widened. Wires, cables, tools, and Jehovah knew what else floated inside the bottom deck. He thought he saw the silhouette of a body, but it disappeared before he could be certain.
When Gunny’s crew began their grav-walk on this section, they’d have to be damned careful. He fought the urge to linger near the broken plate and fire a nano-probe inside. He could ask permission from Dunn, and he’d probably get it, but if he was going to be the marines’ safety net, he needed more fuel. He broke off the flyby and headed back to S&R Black. Gunny should be contacting him soon. Taulbee hoped they’d wait to grav-walk until he came back.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Kali piloted the Ray down the side of the hull, the magnetics keeping it from flying off into space. Her HUD filled with information, including the distance to the other eight targets. Dickerson and Carbonaro were going to have two very long hikes. More than that, though, she was going to have to make multiple trips toward the mid-ships to shuttle the two marines back and forth from their targets.
Taulbee had already sent images to her block showing the damage they would likely encounter. He’d also included video from the aft engineering decks. Mira had taken a hell of a beating. Kali wasn’t surprised they didn’t notice most of the damage before they closed on her. Between the lack of light and the ship’s continuous tumble, not even Black was able to discern every shadow for what it was.
Her orders were to wait for Taulbee to return in the ‘52 before placing the thrusters, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have a look around. The skiff finally reached the bottom of the fore-decks, and she carefully maneuvered it to cross the planar edge connecting the bow to the hull.
“Man,” Dickerson said, “if I knew which way was up, I might get vertigo.”
Derelict: Marines (Derelict Saga Book 1) Page 22
