A Galaxy Unknown

by Thomas DePrima

  "Go ahead, Captain," the com operator said.

  "Attention crew of the Vordoth. This is the Captain speaking. I've decided to undertake a mission that may provide the GSC with vital and invaluable information about Raider operations in this deca-sector. I'd like two volunteers to accompany me in a space tug. This is an extremely dangerous mission and, if discovered, we may not be returning. There's no shame involved for anyone who doesn't volunteer. Anyone interested in participating should be in Bay Two in ten minutes. Carver out."

  To the others in the wardroom, Jenetta said, "Well, that gives me enough time to enjoy another cup of Anthony's delicious coffee."

  Anthony grinned and hurried over to fill Jenetta's cup as she sat back down.

  "Charley, I'd like you to prepare the last cargo link section for separation from the ship. I'll be taking that with me as a cover. Have some bots remove any signs that identify the contents. No, better yet, alter them to indicate that they contain only empty Argon gas canisters."

  "But Captain, the last section is the one containing the Corplastizine. You had us put it there when you reconfigured the cargo and gun placements."

  "Yes, I know, that's why I need the hazard warning signs removed. Please synthesize whatever catalyst you can. I realize the yield will be abysmally low without the dithulene-35, so I'd also like you to place a torpedo in two of the containers. They should provide some extra boost to the detonation. If we get into a bind, it might provide us with enough of a diversion to make our escape. Rig a detonation switch on the console of the tug and another on the command chair console of the Vordoth's bridge. If I'm not back by the time repairs are complete, I probably won't be coming back. We can smite the Raiders one more time just before you leave this area if I've successfully placed the cargo container where it might do some good. At the very least, it will keep the Corplastizine from being used by the Raiders. Gloria, what say we drop down to Bay Two to see if there are any other suicidal fools on board?"

  "Aye, Captain," Lt. Sabella said glumly.

  Jenetta was awestruck as she and Gloria entered the bay, but she managed to keep herself in check and swallow the enormous lump that suddenly materialized in her throat. It appeared as if everyone on board was volunteering to accompany her on the dangerous mission. If they didn't have some intestinal fortitude, they wouldn't be freight haulers in the first place; and if they didn't have more than the average hauler, they wouldn't be on this particular ship for this run; but this display of courage was more than she ever expected. The group that was assembled in the bay lined up in formation and came to attention as Jenetta approached.

  "At ease," Jenetta said loudly, and everyone in the bay relaxed, but remained in formation.

  Prominent in the front row was Gunny Rondell. "I haven't thanked you for the excellent job that you did in preparing the gunners for our last fight," Jenetta said as she stopped in front of him. "Well done, Gunny, and thank you."

  The early doubts that he'd had about Jenetta's ability to command had been dispelled with their first action. After the second action, he couldn't believe that he'd ever seriously entertained thoughts about wresting control of the ship. Things had definitely gone their way in both engagements, but Gunny had been in the Corps long enough to recognize superior intelligence and leadership when he saw it. She might still look like a snot-nosed cadet, but she'd been as cool under fire as any battle hardened veteran Gunny had ever fought alongside or even known.

  Bracing to attention, Rondell said, "It's been an honor to serve under your command, Captain. I hope that you'll pick me for this mission. The Raiders have been killing my fellow haulers for years; a lot of them have been close friends, and I'll do anything I can to put a crimp in the Raider operations."

  "Do you have a family, Gunny?"

  "Just the Corps, and now the brotherhood of freight haulers, Captain."

  Jenetta looked up at fierce steel-gray eyes that stared straight ahead. His vibrant black hair had not yet begun to grey even slightly. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather have along," she said.

  "Thank you, Captain. I won't let you down."

  "I know you won't, Gunny," Jenetta said aloud. To herself, she said, ‘I hope that I won't let you down.'

  Stepping out of line to fall in behind Jenetta, Rondell said, "Captain, almost everyone on board wants to go, but those on duty can't leave their posts, so if you don't select a second here, there are still others to choose from."

  "Thank you, Gunny, but with so many excellent crewmen to choose from, we'll easily find someone here." To the group, she said, "Thank you all for volunteering. You don't know how good it makes me feel to see this expression of your confidence in me, but this is an extremely dangerous mission. Someone has already described it as suicidal. Considering the danger, I'd like to ask that anyone with at least one dependant family member step out of line."

  There was some murmuring, and about three-quarters of the group stepped out of line and reassembled off to the side in front of a space tug. The eight remaining volunteers moved together to form a single line. She would have been happy with any of them, but she needed to limit her selection to one more. After looking them over, Jenetta said, "Anyone with military service, take a step forward." Three of the eight moved towards her. Two were men and one was a woman.

  Stepping in front of the first volunteer, a tall man of about forty with medium-brown hair, she said, "What was your job in the military, Clarey?"

  "Motor-pool, Captain. If it runs with a motor, I can fix it."

  Jenetta nodded and said, "Thank you," and moved to the woman volunteer. She was also about forty, physically fit, and stood perhaps two inches taller than Jenetta. She had often seen the brunette working out in the gym, and had even sparred with her a few times. "What was your job in the military, Harris?"

  "I was a supply clerk in the quartermaster corps, Captain."

  "Thank you." Moving to the last man, who appeared to be about fifty, she asked, "What was your job, Browne?"

  "Ship's engineering tech, Captain," he said. His soft-spoken reply, enunciated clearly and crisply, immediately gave one an impression of marked intelligence.

  Browne's jet-black hair was graying slightly at the temples, and he had a narrow shock of white near his forehead. With his hair combed back, the white patch formed a streak that extended almost from front to back. Another prominent distinguishing feature was a long scar that ran from his right cheekbone to his jaw line, before cutting back slowly towards his ear to form the letter ‘J.' She had seen him around, but had only spoken to him briefly before today. Although Browne, at five-foot eleven and about a hundred ninety pounds, was shorter and lighter than Gunny, he looked fully capable of holding his own in most situations. His dark complexion, indicative of his Caribbean ancestry, was in stark contrast to Rondell's, whose progenitors were French European.

  Jenetta nodded, said "Thank you," and then paced back and forth in front of the line a couple of times. When she had made her selection, she addressed the entire group.

  "Thank you all for volunteering. With so many excellent candidates to choose from, it's been difficult to decide. I'd love to have each and every one of you with me, but given the danger, and knowing how vitally important you are to the Vordoth if this ship and the Nordakians are to safely make port, I can't. You're the finest group of people that I've ever worked with, and it's been my great privilege to be your captain. I wanted to say that now in case we don't make it back. Those who weren't chosen have nothing to be ashamed of. My selections are Gunny Rondell and crewman Browne. Everyone else is dismissed, and thank you again."

  The bay emptied slowly, many people stopping to congratulate Rondell and Browne on being chosen and wish them luck. When everyone else was gone, Jenetta briefed the two men and instructed them to be ready to leave in two hours. That was the time that Charley said would be needed to prepare the diversionary explosive charge. Both men appeared outwardly calm, but they knew the inherent danger that the mission entail
ed.

  Jenetta's personal preparations included a brief trip to her office on the bridge to record messages for Space Command and her family. Removing her personal log ring and Space Command ring from her fingers, she dropped them into an envelope, sealed it, and placed it on the desk. A simple note on the outside instructed that if she failed to return, the prerecorded messages in the outgoing queue should be sent when the ship reached safe space, and the envelope should be forwarded to her family.

  All preparations for departure were complete when Jenetta returned to Bay Two. Rondell and Browne were already in the tug, running through the operations checklist. Charley, Rebecca, and Gloria were naturally on hand to see them off. After shaking hands with Jenetta, all three officers came to attention and saluted her. Jenetta smiled enigmatically and returned their salutes before climbing into the tug.

  The roomy cockpit of the tug had seats for a pilot and copilot at the front of the craft, with rearward facing jump seats that could accommodate two passengers. Unlike the main ship, which didn't have a single viewing port anywhere in the hull, the tug had thick polycarbonate panes in the bow for the pilots. Anyone occupying a jump seat could activate a monitor on a positional arm mounted to the bulkhead to get a forward-looking view of space outside the craft. All occupants of the tug could access any of the views available from a dozen perimeter cameras mounted in the hull. Rondell was flying left seat, with Browne in the right, so Jenetta took the jump seat behind Gunny. As soon as she was belted in, she swung the monitor out in front of her.

  Jenetta took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Okay, Gunny, let's do this."

  "Aye, Captain," Rondell said as he flipped the switch that would close and lock the hatch. When the console indicated that the small vessel was sealed, he signaled the control room that they were ready to depart. As the bay was cleared and depressurized, the outer door was opened and gravity reduced to zero. Gunny Rondell disengaged the electromagnetic skids, then expertly flew the tug out of the ship and along the length of the cargo section. Backing the tug against the last cargo link, he slowly maneuvered it until the hubs were properly positioned, then flipped the switch to lock the tug to the cargo section. The tunnel door had been secured, so the tug immediately floated free of the ship with its hundred-sixty-meter wide link-section attached.

  Rondell advanced the tug slowly forward until well clear of the ship, then engaged the navigation computer. A course had already been plotted, and piloting instructions popped up on the helm monitor. It would direct them to a point where they would intercept the containers they intended to tail.

  There were no crew quarters on the tug, but they had stocked sufficient emergency food packs for 30 days. Water and air were recycled, so the supply was almost inexhaustible, unless vented to the outside. Thin, gravity-shielding cloth, like that used in gel-comfort beds, could be rolled out on the deck for sleeping. Suspended between twelve and twenty centimeters above the cloth, where the normal gravity field from the deck plating in the tug curved over the cloth and again took hold, the crewmember could rest in complete comfort. If they didn't reach their destination in 15 days, they would turn around and return to the Vordoth.

  With a top speed of Light-75, it took the tug a little over twelve hours to close with the Raider tugs moving the abandoned cargo container sections. Gunny fell in line behind them and matched their speed to maintain a separation distance of ten thousand kilometers.

  They had been following along for several hours when Rondell said, "Captain, we have other contacts converging with our course."

  "How many, Gunny?"

  "A lot. They're too congested to get a precise count at this distance, but I'd say at least twenty."

  "It might be another raiding party. Can you determine their point of origin?"

  "We'll need at least five minutes of plots to get an accurate positional map. I'll get the computer chewing on it."

  Five minutes later, Gunny said, "I have the plotted information now, Captain. The computer indicates that their course has them coming directly from the site of our last battle. The Raiders are probably mopping up and salvaging everything usable."

  "How long before they join the others?"

  "They won't actually meet the others. They'll fall into line a few thousand kilometers behind us, unless we alter course."

  Jenetta sat back in her chair and considered the options. They should pull out now, before the new group got any closer, to guarantee that they could escape unchallenged. On the other hand, this might be their only opportunity to get a precise fix on the Raider base.

  "Gunny, start moving up slowly to close the distance with the tugs ahead. Let's try to blend in with the salvage parties."

  "Aye, Captain."

  Eight hours later, they were only a hundred kilometers behind the last tug in the first group, and the second group had moved to within a thousand kilometers behind them. So far, no hint of an alarm had been raised, but Gunny was ready to drop the cargo link and push the throttle to the stops, if Jenetta ordered it. Dropping the cargo wouldn't give them any greater speed, but it would make them appear immeasurably smaller, and therefore more indiscernible on DeTect screens.

  "We seem to be headed towards that asteroid belt, Captain."

  Jenetta had been following their progress on the jump seat's viewscreen and agreed. Apparently, she wasn't the only one who had thought about hiding in the asteroid belt around the star Zighesta. Thank God she had led the freighters to the cloud instead, or they would have been trying to repair their ships right in the Raider's back yard. "It certainly looks that way, Gunny. Let's close up a little so we look more like a part of the front group."

  "Aye, Captain."

  The Raider salvage group continued to move towards the asteroid belt over the next hour, leaving little doubt of their destination.

  "The base must be located on that large, black asteroid, near the outside edge of the belt," Gunny Rondell said. "We should break off now while we can still get away clean. Space Command can come in and clean house."

  "I want to be absolutely certain of our facts before we leave. If that asteroid is a base, we need to learn how they hide their vessels. A large contingent of Raider warships circling an asteroid couldn't be missed by patrolling Space Command vessels. Have the Raiders developed some kind of cloaking method, or do they move their ships somewhere else when Space Command is patrolling in this sector? We have to know. And we should also leave this little present that we brought along. It might look suspicious if we leave with the link-section still attached. Just keep following the other tugs, Gunny."

  "Aye, Captain," Gunny said, without the slightest hint of reproach in his voice.

  As they moved ever closer to the two-hundred-kilometer long asteroid, Gunny said, "There's something strange here, Captain, nobody's slowing down to set up an orbital entry approach and the gravitational pull from the asteroid is minimal, even though the sensors indicate that it's probable composition is principally nickel and iron."

  "That's impossible, Gunny."

  "Yes ma'am."

  Thoughts raced furiously through Jenetta's mind as she analyzed the available information. "Do you think it could be hollow?"

  "Hollow? Uh— I've never heard of anything that massive being hollow."

  The leading tugs finally dropped their envelopes and engaged their sub-light engines, but never altered their path as they headed directly for the center of the asteroid at Plus-10. All three sleuths spotted the orifice at the same time, when navigation lighting suddenly illuminated and a small ship emerged from the asteroid and sped away.

  "Look at that opening in the asteroid; it's enormous," Jenetta said.

  "Aye, Captain, it looks to be about a thousand meters across, and that's where everyone is headed. You must be right about the asteroid being hollow."

  Jenetta's heart quickened as the tugs ahead of them dropped their speed to Plus-.02 for their entrance into the mammoth aperture. To leave the convoy now would draw too
much attention their way, so they timorously followed along, trying not to alert anyone of their growing apprehension.

  At the greatly reduced convoy speed of 72 kph, it took over seven minutes just to traverse the tunnel leading into the asteroid. By Gunny's measurement, the tunnel was six kilometers in length, but that incredible fact became inconsequential when they emerged in a cavern that took their breath away.

  Gunny's initial response was to whistle softly before saying, "Holy S— will you look at this place. It's at least sixty or seventy kilometers deep and thirty to forty kilometers wide. It's enormous."

  "It's the perfect place to hide," Jenetta said, in a reverent tone not much louder than a whisper. "Who would look for a Raider hideout inside a hollow asteroid when everyone knows there isn't any such thing?" Raising her voice slightly she said, "Better start the onboard cameras."

  "Cameras rolling," Browne said. "This can't be a naturally occurring cavern, Captain. It must have taken a year to hollow it out."

  "Or longer. But they wouldn't have to carry the debris very far to conceal it," Jenetta stated. "They probably just released it into the asteroid belt. Or they might have taken it to a smelter and processed it. Nickel and Iron aren't rare elements, but if they had to mine it anyway, the return could have helped offset the cost of construction. Have you noticed the surrounding walls? They appear unusually smooth."

  "That looks like plasticrete," Gunny said, nodding. "Could they have covered the entire inside surface with pre-stressed plasticrete panels, like they do with the vacuum tunnels used by transcontinental tube trains on Earth?"

  "The expense would be incredible," Jenetta said, "but anything's possible, and it would help ensure the integrity of the walls. Especially if they then pumped vacuum plasticrete between the erected panels and the rough excavation surfaces during construction."