Rapparee_The Regeneration

by Robert Weisskopf

  The ship was happy. Training was going well. Our new guests were doing well with their power suit training and would be ready when we arrived at Chico 7. The bridge watch was set, and all systems were in the green. I had some free time and decided to play in my galley

  If I wasn’t doing what I do, I’d want to be a chef in a restaurant somewhere. Not much gave me pleasure like preparing fresh ravioli, or roast duck for a party. Recently I’ve been working on my bread. There was a talent for creating the right crust and texture in a loaf. I had been working on perfecting my own sourdough bread.

  When people think of sourdough bread most imagine the tasty loaves created on earth in the old town of San Francisco. That is the goal everyone strives to recreate. The problem is, that if you follow the traditional methods of developing a yeast strain known as the Mother, you find that it tastes different than the San Francisco version. The old bakeries in that town brag their Mother is centuries old.

  Yeast is everywhere. It floats in the air. When you make a Mother, you mix equal parts of water and flour in a jar. Cover it and leave it out on the counter for several days. It will begin to foam up. More water and flour a few more days, and you have your starter. The Mother has taken yeast from the air and grown its own strain. Very simple. A child can do it. Problem is yeast is a product of its environment and is different in every new location. Even if you start with a sample of a Mother from San Francisco the yeast changes to reflect the new environment.

  I keep Lola at a reduced gravity and slightly lower air pressure than sea level San Francisco. Because of this, we tend towards bread with larger air bubbles inside. I've been trying to reduce the bubble size and maintain the flavor.

  It was five hours later that Julie dragged me, covered in flour, out of my little galley. As often happened, I’d lost track of the time. She chased me off to our cabin after she told me to shower and get ready for dinner.

  I haven’t felt this good in a long time. Even though I knew we’d be facing an orbital battle around Chico 7, I was at ease surrounded by the people I loved, on the ship I called home.

  Chapter 6

  I woke to a flashing red strobe light and a klaxon alarm blaring. Jumping out of bed, I pulled on my flight suit and deck shoes out of instinct. Within seconds I was dashing down the corridor to the bridge where I met Iwona at the door. She'd been on night duty and was coming to get me.

  “Skipper, we have an unknown projectile headed towards us on a collision course. I've maneuvered several times, but the unknown object adjusts its trajectory and keeps headed at us.” She said.

  “Are there any targeting radars?” I asked.

  “No sir, no electromagnetic emissions at all.”

  Jumping into my seat I shouted to the Weapons station. “Arm photon Guns and target incoming unknown. Identify this target Bogey 1.”

  Tony Nicosta who had the Weapons station responded, “Aye, Aye Skipper. Port side rear Photon guns targeted and armed.”

  “Comms, send a message to Bogey 1. Instruct them to immediately turn away, or we will take their actions as hostile and fire upon them. Also, send a message to the nearest military base. We are under attack by unknowns. Be sure to give our coordinates.”

  Iwona did as ordered and moments later she spoke up. “Messages sent. No response from Bogey 1. The military won’t receive our message for several hours due to the distance.”

  Tony spoke up. “Skipper all hands are at battle stations and weapons are hot. I suggest a warning shot.”

  “Tony, I agree. Fire a quarter charge at Bogey 1. Iwona, send Bogey 1 a message we are firing a warning shot at them.”

  They both responded, “Aye, Aye Skipper.”

  “Message sent to Bogey 1,” said Iwona.

  “Lock onto Bogey 1. Quarter-power shot fired.” Tony paused a moment. “Target hit.”

  “Any change?” I asked.

  “Negative sir. Bogey 1 still on a collision course. 30 seconds until impact.”

  “Full power photon gun, fire on my mark,” I said.

  “Fire!”

  “Pilot make evasive maneuvers now,” I ordered. “Give me a full sensor scan in all directions now.”

  “Skipper, a direct hit on Bogey 1. Target destroyed.”

  Although our artificial gravity did its best to compensate, we still felt the rapid maneuvering. There'll be some broken dishes in the galley.

  As a precaution, I ordered our active-camo activated.

  Julie and Nicky were now entering the bridge and jumped into their seats, taking over their assignments. Julie would pilot, allowing Iwona to focus completely on sensors. Tony could concentrate on weapons, as Nicky handled Ship’s Systems. I knew Chris was back in Engineering, looking after everything there.

  I switched to the intercom and made a ship-wide announcement. “We’ve been attacked by an unknown craft. We’ve taken evasive action and defended ourselves with our photon cannon. The unknown attacker has been destroyed. We’re currently scanning to see if there are other threats in the area. Remain at battle stations until further notice. I’ll keep you advised.”

  Sitting back in my chair I took a deep breath and tried to make sense of what happened. I switched to personal comms and called Larry Stacey to come to the bridge. “Tony, get Al in here to take your seat. I want you to take the small shuttle out with Larry flying shotgun in his fighter. See if you can pick up some debris from our attacker. Let’s try to identify our enemy.”

  Iwona spoke up. “Skipper, we’ve activated the camo and conducted an area scan. There are no threats in the vicinity.”

  “Good job everyone. There’s no better crew in all the heavens than what I have here. Thank you.” I said meaning every word.

  “Secure from battle stations, but I want everyone in no less than level 1 power suits with helmets handy at all times.” Level 1 suits were the older suits. They were comfortable under a jumpsuit and provided full atmospheric protections with a helmet. I have a great deal of confidence in them. I spent a couple hours floating around in space wearing a level 1 suit and helmet not even a year ago.

  Larry and Al both entered the bridge together. Tony exchanged seats with Al and hurried out with Larry after he explained their mission to him. The hangar crew was already getting the two ships ready for an immediate launch.

  We spent the next few minutes going over sensor logs. Looking to see if there were any more threats. Checking all systems to ensure we were ready for anything that might pop up.

  From the bridge's windows, we could see the fighter and small shuttle take off overhead. As they lifted off they first moved forward then banked to port and accelerated out of our view. I switched to the comms frequency used by the two small spacecraft and monitored their conversation. Tony mentioned Leroy Bowman had jumped in with him and would operate the remote arm while he piloted.

  On my console, I opened a small window showing the interior of the hangar bay. I noticed each of the other fighters had a pilot either sitting in the cockpit or on the edge ready should there be a need. These were professionals. They understood how quickly a battle progressed and prepared for the next step on their own. I was proud to serve with them.

  I looked over at Nicky C. He caught my eye and smiled knowing what I needed. I saw him switch comms, but I couldn’t hear what he said. Five minutes later my suspicions proved correct when Kenny our cabin boy came to the bridge with a tray loaded with Nicky’s specially designed bridge mugs. I could smell the rich aroma of one of Nicky’s special blend coffees. Kenny passed the mugs around and I could tell he was fascinated by the way his eyes were looking everywhere but at what he was doing.

  “Kenny, why don’t you secure that empty tray and grab a seat. I’m sure they can spare you in the galley for a few minutes and you can see how the bridge works.” I offered.

  “Yes sir,” Kenny replied with enthusiasm as he jumped in one of the upper-level seats.

  The bridge door opened again and Chris stepped in. “Can someone fill me in on
the details?” He asked.

  While I let Chris know what we were doing, Julie rotated the ship, so we could see our fighter and shuttle at a distance out our front ports. She also set up video feeds from the cameras on the two small ships and had them show on the monitor screens in front of us. We now shared the view with Larry and Tony. Larry was out ahead of the shuttle, and it was on his screen that we saw the first pieces of what had attacked us.

  There was a cloud of small fragments drifting out from the explosion. Most were too small to be of any value. But here and there were larger pieces. Larry pointed out one piece. It looked to be a part of the outer skin of the spacecraft. It tumbled as it moved. Jagged, torn edges darkened from the explosion. Our photon gun had struck the bogey and burned its way through. At some point, it triggered an explosion. Possibly a fuel cell ruptured, or onboard explosives detonated. Either way, it was a violent explosion.

  Tony maneuvered the shuttle so that Leroy could reach out with the mechanical arm and grab onto the fragment. It was a panel from the external skin of the spacecraft. Compared to the claw on the arm, I could see it was about two feet by four feet with torn edges. Shiny metal on one side and blackened on the other. On my screen, I couldn’t tell much more. A thorough exam on board would give us much more information.

  Switching my comms over to the fighter’s frequency I called to Larry. “Is there any sign of an occupant?”

  “Negative,” He replied. “No sign of any provision for a pilot or crew. Truth is it is almost impossible to tell yet. There isn’t much left. That panel we loaded was one of the largest pieces out here.”

  I was about to speak when Larry spoke up again. “I spoke too soon. I see a seat. Looks like a cockpit seat. I’m moving a little closer to get a better view.”

  From the camera on the fighter, we now saw the seat as it came into view in a slow tumble. Strapped into the seat was a space suit. “I think there is a body in the seat. Rather what is left of a body. I think it’s just the torso. The limbs have been ripped off.” Larry said.

  In the violent explosions that occur on spacecraft, this was not uncommon, and Larry had seen it happen before.

  Tony maneuvered in and Leroy grabbed the seat. Using the claw and articulated arm he could bring it around and deposit everything inside the open rear bay of the shuttle. Once the debris and torso were secure they turned around and returned to Lola.

  “Iwona, let the sick bay know what to expect. Have them ready to accept the remains at the hangar bay. I want them to conduct a complete examination of the body. I think Leroy might be able to help. Let them know I'll be down there when I can to go over everything.” I said.

  I pulled up a chronological timeline of the events that had happened. From the time the Klaxon sounded until now was fifty-seven minutes. Not even an hour had gone by and I felt like I had put in full day’s work. Onboard we try to keep to a normal 24-hour schedule. It is easier on our bodies and less confusing for our sleep cycles. The Klaxon had sounded at 0430 hrs. It was now 0528 hrs. The galley would open for breakfast in thirty minutes. All this happened before breakfast.

  Opening a comms link to the main galley, I asked if the maneuvering had caused much damage. Two dozen eggs had hit the floor, but they’d already cleaned that up and the galley was on schedule for breakfast. They wanted to know if I could send Kenny back. They needed him to help get things ready.

  “Kenny, the galley wants you back in the kitchen. Just so you know you can stop in anytime and see how the action is on the bridge.”

  Kenny collected all the empty cups and left for the galley with his tray loaded.

  “Chris, want to join me in the hangar bay? I want to see what they found.”

  He hopped out of his chair and followed right along. “Those improvements that your engineer friend Rustack suggested helped out this morning. We had a little overheating issue with the photon gun, but because we made the changes he suggested. It rerouted power and kept things running. Are you sure you can’t get him on Lola full time?” Chris asked.

  “You met him. He's a peculiar fellow. He wants to stay on the Orla. It’s his home and where he’s most comfortable. I gave him my word he can stay there, but he did promise to lend a hand on Lola. I doubt he'll ever make the jump to Lola permanent, but I know he'll do what he can to help. That’s the best we’re going to get. Well, that and him training a few engineers for us.” I said.

  “I guess being a genius and being peculiar run hand in hand sometimes.”

  We arrived at the hangar bay as the outer doors were sealing. We waited until it was safe to enter and then threaded our way to the shuttle. Larry hopped down from his fighter and handed his helmet to his crew chief. He trotted up to join us.

  The shuttle’s rear hatch descended and locked down. Leroy was standing there with the pile of debris they’d recovered. He waved to us to hurry up the ramp. There laying on its side was the cockpit seat containing the torso. Only it wasn’t a torso. The sleeves and legs were empty, and the helmet had tucked back behind the torso and out of sight. We unbuckled the suit and lifted it onto a gurney. There was something inside and it moved freely. “Take this to the sick bay,” I ordered the crewmen. As they rolled off we explored the wreckage piled on the deck. The largest panel had been part of the external skin of the spacecraft. There were several pieces of electronics and wiring recovered. Our people could examine them and determine what kind of craft it came from.

  The debris was being spread out over an open area of the deck and photographed. We’d then store it in a cargo bay. As Chris and I were turning to leave the hanger bay our comms sounded. It was the doctor requesting we immediately come to the sick bay.

  Chapter 7

  We didn’t run, but we did walk fast to the sick bay. As we neared, we heard frantic shouting and some weird grunting noises. Chris broke into a trot and I followed. We found the sick bay in turmoil. Trays of equipment lay spilled on the ground, and the mattress from the gurney blocked the passageway. Chris eased his head through the door, peeked and pulled it back out as a kidney-shaped tray followed, striking the door frame.

  I looked at Chris and he was smiling, almost laughing. I began to ask but he beat me to it. “We have a Troll.”

  I peeked over Chris’s shoulder. Inside the room, holding the doctor and two orderlies at bay was a small creature, not two-foot-tall and covered in a thick blue-black fur with dark almost black skin. Chris walked in and shooed the doctor and orderlies out into the passageway with me. He sat down on the floor and kicked the door closed.

  There was silence in the room for several minutes then I heard a soft deep bass sound. Not loud but a distinctive “Grump.” I was sure it was Chris making the noise.

  The doctor and orderlies composed themselves after their ordeal. “What happened in there?” I asked.

  The doctor cleared his throat. “We transferred the pressure suit to the exam table and unzipped it. Inside was this little creature. It almost looks like a monkey but it’s not. It’s definitely not. It was curled up in a ball, semi-conscious. At first, we believed it was dead. The suit and the cockpit seat must have protected it. As we lifted it out of the suit the creature came around. I’m sure we were as startled as it was. Anyway, it began jumping around the room. It picked up the gurney and tossed it across the bay. Its strength is inhuman. I’m worried, is Chris safe in there?”

  Again, we heard “Grump” from inside the room, followed by another “Grump.” This one in a different voice. I decided we needed to let Chris do what he can. There were several other grumps and the sound of trays and cushions moving. After five minutes, the door opened a crack. Chris was at the crack and said “Get me a hunk of ham. Not sliced, a hunk.”

  I looked at one of the orderlies who said, “I got it.” He ran off down the passageway towards the galley.

  Two minutes later he was back with half of a canned ham, the gelatin dripping down his hands to the floor. I knocked on the door and Chris opened it. The orderly handed the h
am to Chris who then closed the door.

  I could tell Chris was talking but it was soft and muffled through the door. Another ten minutes and Chris opened the door. In his arms, resting on one hip, he carried a strange little creature. This was the real reason we were returning to Chico 7. This was a baby Troll.

  The little troll was nibbling on a hunk of the ham. He had a smile on his face like all contented babies have. You had to smile back at him.

  Chris whispered, “You might want to get our experts back here. I’m sure Julie would love to see this too.”

  I stepped back into the passageway and called our four experts and Julie to meet us outside the sick bay. Julie knew the ship better and was the first to respond followed by the two Kupp brothers. The Cryptozoologist and Linguistic Philologist followed.