Derelict: Marines (Derelict Saga Book 1)

by Paul E. Cooley

  If Black could sigh, it would have. The AI constructed a new status message for the Trio, signed it, and dispatched it immediately. Black wiped the records of the transmission. Through the ship’s external cameras, it located all four members of Kalimura’s squad. Black needed them aboard Mira. It was time to help the humans.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Corporal, a voice said in her mind.

  Her head hurt and she didn’t understand why. Where was she? And who the hell was talking to her?

  Corporal Kalimura, the voice said again.

  “Go away,” she muttered.

  Open your eyes, please.

  “Fuck off.”

  For a moment, she was alone with the sound of her breathing. Her head throbbed as though she’d banged it into a bulkhead, but there was something more disturbing. Her arms and legs didn’t seem as though they were attached to her body. They felt weightless. She moved her fingers and felt the give of fabric. Wiggling her toes produced the same effect. Shit. She had hurt herself during a z-g training mission. And now she was floating—

  WAKE UP, MARINE! NOW!

  The words rocketed through her brain like a bullet. Her eyes flicked open at once. And then she was wide awake. More awake than she had ever been in her life.

  The stars cartwheeled before her. She turned her head and saw nothing but more stars and the barest glimpse of dense shadowy objects. But no light. “Where—Hey, where the hell am I?”

  Thank you, Corporal, the feminine voice said in her mind. You have a concussion, it said. What do you remember?

  Remember. Yeah, good question. All she remembered was screaming and then— Black?

  Yes, Corporal. Your block indicates you suffered a blow to the head. I have damage telemetry on you and the other three in your squad.

  Squad. Shit. Where are they?

  A burst of static crossed her vision and then her HUD appeared. Suit malfunctions lit up on one side of the display. Her helmet had suffered damage and she had three small perforations running down her left leg. The suit had auto-sealed them, but they would be weak points from here on out. She ignored the warnings and focused on the 3-D map glowing before her. Two orange circles pulsed with statistics. Both Carbonaro and Dickerson were healthy, despite the fact they were unconscious. The one marked “LCpl Elliott” flashed from white to red. Kali focused her eye on it and the statistics opened up.

  Elliott had lost part of his left arm. The suit had sealed itself against further loss of atmosphere and his bio-nannies had stopped the bleeding, but before they had managed to cauterize the exposed veins and arteries, he’d lost a liter of blood. Beyond the injury to his extremities, his suit had also suffered damage to its maneuvering thrusters. He still had O2, but was in deep shock from both losing the hand and the sudden pressure loss. He was dying, and even if he was conscious, he’d be powerless to help himself.

  How long have I been out?

  You were unconscious for a little more than two minutes, Black said.

  “I need to get to Elliott,” she said aloud, her voice sounding strained and far away to her own ears.

  Agreed, Black said through her block. But first, you need to stop your spin.

  “Right,” she breathed. She’d been so focused on the HUD readouts she had forgotten the universe was spinning and pinwheeling before her. Kali tried to focus through the fuzz in her mind. Her every thought tried to slip away like vapor in a vacuum. Elliott. He’s dying. Get to Elliott.

  That thought finally broke through the haze. Kali nudged her suit thrusters, first to stop the cartwheel, and then to bring the spin under control. Once she was stable, she used the thrusters to stop her momentum. With the stars no longer flipping about, it was easy to see where she was in relation to Mira and S&R Black. Mira’s mid-ships were all that were visible in Black’s lights, the bow a mere shadow.

  The tumble from the skiff had thrown her well away from the giant ship, but she was closest to its bow. Both Mira and Elliott floated at a negative vector. Kali oriented herself, spreading her arms and legs in an ‘X’ and looked “down.” There, near the shadowy giant, she saw the tell-tale blink of a suit light. I’m going for Elliott. Keep trying to wake the other two.

  I will, Corporal. If they do not regain consciousness soon, we may lose them both. You will not have enough fuel to rescue them.

  Fuck, she thought. One problem at a time, Black. If they’re not conscious in the next 60 seconds, I’m authorizing an override. Bring them to me.

  As you say, Corporal.

  She hit the thrusters and a jet of gas pushed her toward Elliott’s floating body. Just like in the rings, she thought, only this time you don’t have to worry about getting hit by rocks.

  Elliott’s suit lights slowly turned from far away dots to circles. Black, initiate an override on Elliott’s suit. I want the lights on full.

  Yes, Corporal.

  The shadow of his body suddenly blazed with light. Kali ground her teeth together as she approached. She fired the chest suit thruster and her speed slowed. She could make out Elliot’s head and torso now. The angle of approach would allow her to wrap her arms around his waist, but she had to be careful not to hit the arm. He was already in shock and another jolt to his system could kill him.

  Get him stable, bio-nannies, she thought. Get him stable.

  She hit the thrusters again to cut her speed. He was mere meters from her now. In the glow of both his suit lights and hers, she saw frozen blood where his left arm ended in a stump. His body slowly rotated before her. Closer. Closer. She spread her arms wide and shut them around his waist. The impact was soft, but not as soft as she’d hoped. His statistics jumped slightly, but he didn’t flatline.

  Feeling a sense of relief, she managed a slight smile. Black. Connect me with Gunny.

  I am unable to do so at this time, the AI said. I’m experiencing communication problems with the rest of the Company.

  “The fuck?” she said aloud. Black. Explain.

  Corporal. Mira’s shuttle bay is the only nearby shelter for Lance Corporal Elliott. You do not have enough fuel to return to me. If you want him to live, I suggest you make your way there as soon as possible.

  Kali blinked. The AI’s voice sounded forlorn, apologetic, and somehow fake. Her HUD lit up with the coordinates for the shuttle bay. With her arms wrapped around Elliott’s body, she couldn’t see S&R Black or the giant derelict. She’d be flying blind with only the AI’s instructions to guide her.

  How are Dickerson and Carbonaro?

  Dickerson is awake, Black said. He has Lance Corporal Carbonaro and is heading to the shuttle bay just as you are.

  She sent a block message to Dickerson, but it bounced back immediately. Black? What the hell is going on with communications?

  I do not know, the AI said. Some kind of interference is keeping me from relaying messages.

  Does the command crew know of our situation?

  Yes, Black said. They only have one operational skiff at this time and it is still being refueled. They should rendezvous with you at the shuttle bay in time. But you need to hurry, Corporal. Another shatter storm is approaching.

  “Goddammit,” she muttered. There was no use arguing. What the AI said made no sense at all. If it could communicate with her, she should be able to communicate with anyone on the ship as well as her squad. Worry about it later, she told herself.

  The HUD provided her instructions on when to hit the thrusters and in what order. She tried using her suit cams to make sense of her position, but apart from the view of Elliott’s chest, they showed her nothing but darkness. Black? My HUD says I’m ten meters from the bay.

  Yes, Corporal. The rest of your squad is approaching now. In five seconds, activate your magnetic boots. 5-4-3-2-1.

  She did as instructed and the boots stuck fast to metal. The sudden stop jarred her knees, but only slightly. Black had brought her in fairly gently. Small favors, she thought.

  “Corporal? This is Dickerson. Do you read?
”

  His voice came over the comms with a shower of static. She grinned. “Where you been all my life, Dickerson?”

  “Glad to see you too, Corporal. Carb and I are about twenty meters out.”

  “Can you see an entrance? I can’t see shit.”

  “Yeah. I think I see where we can cut in. It’ll be tight. How’s Elliott?”

  “Still alive. We need to get him inside so we can get him stabilized. Can’t fucking do that out here.”

  “Understood,” Dickerson said. “Carb’s awake. She’ll take him from you.”

  Kali waited in silence, the comms awash in white noise. Every few seconds she made out what sounded like voices, but they were probably just her imagination. Or wishful thinking.

  Black? How can I talk to Dickerson and not to the ship?

  The interference impedes your range, Corporal.

  She pursed her lips but said nothing. The direct connection to Black was difficult. She felt as though she needed to hide her thoughts, but didn’t quite know why. Focus, she told herself. Then something touched her back. She stiffened, but didn’t cry out.

  “I’ve got him,” Carbonaro said. “Let go and I’ll take him, Boss.”

  Kali unlocked her fingers and arched her back. Elliott’s body slid away from her finally affording her a view of Mira. A pitted and blackened rectangle filled most her vision except for the left edge. The metal there was less damaged, but glistened with silvery lines. Lights moved across the rectangle and suddenly Dickerson was standing beside her.

  “Good to see you, Corporal,” he said.

  “You too, Dickerson,” she said. He sounded better, less confused.

  He swung his head to stare back at the bay door. “You think that’s the acid shit Gunny was talking about?”

  Kali nodded. “Yeah. So stay the hell away from it.”

  “Aye on that, Corporal.” He grav-walked a meter closer to the door, but stayed well away from the hazard. “That’s going to be fun to cut through,” he said.

  She grunted. “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, if the new schematics are right, that door there is about a meter thick of Atmo-steel. We’re going to run out of O2 before we get halfway through it.”

  Kali rolled her eyes. “I thought you spent some time studying Mira’s layout.”

  He paused for a beat before he said, “I did, Corporal. Why do you say that?”

  She shook her head in disbelief and then regretted it as a lightning bolt of pain ground into her skull. “Then I guess you’ve forgotten the first rule of S&R training—always know your ingress and egress points.”

  “Well, of course the damned shuttle bay is an i/e point,” Carbonaro said. “You don’t have to study the plans to know that.”

  Kali slowly raised her arm and pointed to the very port edge of the shuttle bay door. “But,” she said with a smile, “that also means knowing everything about the i/e point.” She moved forward a meter and brought her suit lights to a tight focus. Nearly hidden by the superficial damage, the seam of a small inset door appeared beneath the increased light. “That is the manual release.”

  Dickerson groaned. “Aye, Corporal. I, um, forgot about that.”

  “And you studied,” Carbonaro said. “That’s the sad part.”

  Kali checked the HUD. Elliott was still stable, for the moment, but his blood pressure had dropped. He needed a bio-nannie infusion if they couldn’t get him to the auto-doc. The real medical supplies had been on the skiff, along with most of their weapons. She’d no doubt the Ray was tumbling through space, never to be recovered.

  Panic scratched at her, its talons raking her confidence. She shook her head violently. Pain exploded in her skull and flashed across her vision. She groaned as it washed over her and waited for the afterimage to fade.

  Once she was able to see clearly again, she initiated a direct connection to Black. Black. What’s the ETA on the shatter storm?

  The AI responded immediately. I calculate you have at most two minutes, it said. But that is an optimistic estimate.

  “Dickerson. Get over there and release the door. Now.”

  “Aye, Corporal.”

  “Carbonaro?” Kali said. “Is Elliott secure?”

  “Aye, Boss. I’ve got his suit mag-linked to mine. He’s not going anywhere,” Carbonaro said.

  “Okay. I’m going in first. Dickerson, stay with Carbonaro and Elliott. But if I yell out, you better be at my side instantly.”

  “Aye, Corporal.”

  Kali pulled a vibro-blade from her suit. The handle automatically magnetized to her glove, the tungsten combat blade remaining sheathed. Mira had no power. If the ship had been in that state long enough, all the emergency power supplies would no doubt have drained. When she walked inside the shuttle bay, it was going to be darker than space itself. Panic surged in her mind, her heart thumping in her ears. She had to move or she was going to freeze up. “Get it open. Now!”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  The coffee tasted like corpse ash. Black might as well have filtered hot water through a cremated body. But he knew that was bullshit. The coffee tasted as good as it ever had; it was his brain that had soured it into something dreadful.

  Taulbee sat in a chair across from him still wearing his EVA suit. Another mug of steaming black liquid sat untouched in front of him. Dunn didn’t like the way his XO looked; Taulbee’s face was dark and brooding.

  Gunny wasn’t in much better shape. The sergeant looked as though he’d been through absolute hell and wasn’t sure he’d left it behind. Niro’s ghost was probably running rampant through his mind.

  They had successfully stopped the torsional spin. They had successfully placed the thrusters. The cost? One dead marine, four MIA, and a skiff that had undoubtedly been destroyed.

  The three men sat in a silence broken only by the grav-plates’ barely audible hum. He knew he had to say the first words, start the conversation, but he wasn’t sure how. Fortunately, Black did it for him.

  “Sirs,” the AI said, “I have confirmed thruster placement. We can stabilize Mira on your command, Captain.”

  He nodded and leaned back in the chair, his hands cradling his mug. “Thank you, Black.” He took another sip of the coffee, grimaced, and placed the mug back on the table. “Gentlemen, we have a decision to make.”

  Taulbee raised his eyes from the table. “Decision, sir?”

  Dunn nodded. “Black is picking up a ping from Mira’s personnel decks. At least one member of Kalimura’s squad made it aboard the ship. We can’t raise them on comms—they’re more than half a kilometer away from us and inside meters of Atmo-steel.”

  “A ping?” Taulbee asked. “Black? What the hell does that mean?”

  The AI paused before responding. “I am unable to raise Kalimura and her squad via radio or block communication. However, I am receiving a repeating signal from the Corporal’s block. Why I can’t communicate with her is unknown.”

  “So, at least she’s alive,” Gunny said.

  “If the block is still functional, it stands to reason she is alive, Sergeant,” the AI said.

  Gunny’s face lit with hope and something frantic. “Sir, request permission to lead a rescue mission.”

  “Denied,” Dunn said. He watched as the hope melted from Gunny’s face and transformed into anger. “For now,” Dunn said. “Before we rush out there, let’s make sure we don’t make any more mistakes.”

  Gunny opened his mouth to reply, and then closed it. At last, he cast his eyes down with a nod.

  “Sir?” Taulbee asked. “What decision are you referring to?”

  “Stabilizing Mira. If we fire the thrusters, we’ll get her back on track and it will make it much easier for us to perform rescue operations,” he said. “Plus, we’ll be one step closer to bringing Mira home.”

  Taulbee muttered something, but it was too low for Dunn to hear.

  “What was that, James?”

  He waved a hand. “Ignore me, sir. I’m
just very pissed off. My apologies.”

  “Look,” Dunn said and leaned forward to tent his hands on the table’s surface. “We’re all angry, but that’s not going to help us get our marines back. It’s not going to help us finish the mission. So let’s think.”

  “I vote for stabilizing her right now,” Gunny said. “It’s going to be damned near impossible to do that if she’s still spinning.”

  “Agreed,” Dunn said. Taulbee was shaking his head. “Lieutenant?”

  The Lieutenant glanced at Gunny and then back to the captain. “I was just thinking, sir. If we stabilize the ship, that could further endanger any survivors from Kalimura’s squad. We don’t know what part of the bow they went in, much less if they’re safe there. If we suddenly change the ship’s trajectory, they could get crushed into the deck plates or something like that.”

  Dunn thought for a moment, trying to visualize what his XO had said. He tried to pick apart the argument, but couldn’t. Taulbee was right—it was a huge risk. “What do you propose instead of firing the thrusters?”

  “I don’t know, sir. Black? Is there an alternative?”

  The AI was silent for a moment. “The alternative is to use the remaining skiff, and not the SV, to travel to the bow and scour the area for survivors. However, if an EVA must take place, the fuel consumption will be very high. Since there are four potential survivors, the skiff would have to have only two personnel aboard for there to be room if all four marines have survived.”

  “Shit,” Taulbee said. “Shit, shit, shit.”

  “But,” Black said, “that is immaterial.”

  “Why do you say that?” Gunny asked.

  “Pluto Exo-Observatory’s latest report indicates there is a 65% chance that Mira will impact with KBO-9413 in less than four hours on its present course. It is impossible to say with any accuracy what part of the ship the object will crash into. Furthermore, KBO-9413 is large enough to easily cut Mira in half, if not destroy her completely.”

  “Damn the gods,” Gunny muttered.