Rapparee_The Regeneration

by Robert Weisskopf

  “Al, get ready,” I said. He nodded to me and with a look of determination he re-gripped the pilot’s joystick and said, “GO.”

  I flipped a protective cover off a toggle switch on my console. It was biometrically coded to me and no one else could operate it. I nodded back to Al and flipped the switch.

  Lola has an artificial gravity damper system which smoothed the bumps of acceleration. Lola’s system is the best available and has had several upgrades. Even with that, the sudden acceleration caused everyone to sink deep into their seats. I heard a few coffee cups hit the floor and Julie’s pad flew off her console to the ground. Lola was like a racehorse now. Spurred on and given a free rein to race to the finish line. There were few ships in space as fast as her and none in this quadrant of the galaxy.

  On the scanner’s screens, the crippled fighter grew larger. Soon it was clear the little ship was Larry’s. It also became clear it had heavy damage. Sensors showed the life signs for one person aboard, but we were unable to make contact. Iwona got my attention. “Sir, at our speed we’ll reach Larry in ten minutes, but we’ll never be able to slow down enough to help him. We'll shoot by.”

  “I know,” I responded. “Tony, be prepared to launch when I tell you. We won’t be slowing down. We will shoot you off as we pass by. Understand?” I said as I keyed my radio mic.

  Tony was ready. “That’s what I figured. We're strapped in tight and we’re ready. Make sure you keep sending us the telemetry. I'd hate to lose track of him.”

  Iwona looked at me, unsure what to say. “We can’t fire him off at this speed. It would be suicidal. Wouldn’t it?” She asked.

  “Probably,” I responded never looking up from the calculations I was working on my console.

  “Prepare for shuttle launch on my mark,” I ordered.

  “Al, 90-degree port yaw now,” I said.

  Without a hesitation, Al yawed the ship so that we were skidding sideways. Still moving in the same direction only now we were flying sideways. Once again personal items slipped off desks and we all felt it as we were once again slammed into our seats.

  “Launch shuttle.” I almost shouted. Throughout the ship, you could hear the small shuttle craft rocket off from the forward flight deck. On our monitors, we saw the little transport shoot off and disappear. We continued to move in one direction and the shuttle flew off in the opposite path. His speed soon countered Lola’s speed. It allowed him to get into position to pursue the crippled fighter.

  Tony turned to Leroy. “You two okay back there?”

  Leroy answered, “I’m okay. Johnny how about you?”

  The battlefield medic spoke up “Well if that wasn’t a punch in the stomach.” He grunted “I’m okay, I wasn’t expecting that. Do you guys do this often?”

  “Often enough.” Tony chuckled.

  Leroy interrupted. “Come about, 22 degrees to starboard. Larry’s a few degrees off to our right and low.”

  Tony made the course correction and spotted the fighter tumbling. “Oh, that tumble is going to make it tough going. How much time do we have?” He asked.

  Leroy answered back, “No more than ten minutes, tops.”

  Tony had no response for that. He focused himself on pulling up to the fighter. He had to position himself so that he could tumble the shuttle in sync with the fighter. Only then could he risk reaching out with the claw and grabbing on. Once they connected, he'd have to correct the tumble and pull out of the gravity well or they would all die as a burning ball of spacecraft plummeting through the atmosphere.

  On the bridge, Al impressed me as he slowed the ship in a large wide orbit around the smaller methane planet. I watched on the monitors as Tony attempted to sync his tumble with the fighter. Not only did he have to consider pitch, yaw, and roll, but he also had to change and watch his vector to ensure he eased up to Larry. He couldn’t afford a collision. If he wasn’t in sync, the grappling arm would snap off from the combined torque of the two ships.

  We all sat glued to the monitors. Julie streamed the video feed to ship-wide, so the entire crew could see the deadly tango danced by the fighter and shuttle. Slowly, the shuttle’s movements mirrored the fighters. Inch by inch they grew closer. Finally, operating the grappling arm, Leroy moved it forward and opened the claw.

  Spinning and tumbling together, Leroy latched onto a hoisting hook on the damaged freighter and secured it. Now locked together Tony maneuvered to ease the tumbling before it was too late. Using the smaller thruster rockets on the shuttle like a musician might play the piano, he stopped the rolling. Gradually the ships both stopped pitching up and down and finally, he corrected for the yaw.

  As Tony added power to pull out of the gravity well, he noticed skin temperatures on the shuttle were beginning to climb. They were entering the thicker methane. In what seemed to him to take long minutes but was more like seconds, he accelerated and began to pull up and away. Skin temps dropped again as they pulled out from the planet.

  Tony pulled further away from the planet until they could achieve a high orbit. Once there, he set the ship on autopilot to await the return of Lola. He could do little more than wait now. Once in orbit, Tony took a deep breath. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.” He said.

  Johnny, sitting behind Tony in a jump seat, realized he’d been holding his breath with a white-knuckle death grip on the arms of his seat. Taking a deep breath, he asked, “You thought it would be worse?”

  With great care, Leroy turned the fighter to get a better view of its condition. Holes peppered the left rear section, ranging from microscopic to large enough to stick your head into. The port side engine was missing, torn from its nacelle. Nothing but torn metal and ripped out wires remained. There was no sparking. That meant the automatic circuit breakers did their job and tripped. That’s prevented the ship from exploding after the shrapnel struck.

  As the ship turned under Leroy’s manipulations the cockpit came into view. They knew Larry was still alive from their sensor readout. They saw nothing inside the darkened cockpit at first. Johnny then shined a spotlight on the fighter and they could make out some detail. The cockpit wasn’t darkened from fire and there was no smoke. Further rotation of the ship showed Larry slumped over in his seat. He didn’t move.

  Tony, Leroy, and Johnny could do no more for Larry until Lola returned. They'd have to transfer the fighter to the ship’s hangar bay before trying to open the cockpit and offer him aid. They'd love to try a spacewalk to extricate Larry, but it was safer for Larry to stay strapped into his seat for now. They'd need tools to open the cockpit. To try pulling him from his seat now could cause him further injury.

  Tony keyed his radio. “We have the fighter in our grapple and can see Larry in his cockpit. He’s not responsive. Good news is we see no obvious physical trauma to him. His life support systems are functioning for now. We await your arrival.”

  I replied, “ETA four minutes. We’ll have the medical section on hand to help with his extrication in the hangar bay.”

  “Nicky, can you get the Doctor and crew to the hangar bay?” I called out.

  “Already done. The Doctor and assistants are waiting with a gurney and crash cart now.” He responded.

  “Thank you. Now let’s get them back on board.” I said softer.

  “Okay now, are there any more bandits out there?” I directed this at the bridge crew, to get everyone back into the game.

  Chapter 13

  Chris excused himself from the bridge and ran to the hangar bay. Larry was part of Genus. That meant that Larry was his responsibility. He entered the hangar and could see the rescue crew gathered, awaiting the wrecked ship to arrive. He pulled his helmet on, closed his visor and picked up a titanium pry bar. He joined the men waiting.

  It was a long ten minutes before the automated taxi tractor pulled the perforated fighter into the hangar. The rescue crew stayed back until the hanger crew secured the little fighter off to one side. They needed to allow other hangar operations t
o continue. The shuttle taxied in on its own power right after the wreckage and moved to its berth.

  Once the decks were clear, the rescue crew swarmed forward over the small spacecraft. Before anyone even tried to open the cockpit, they secured the reactor and made it safe. It would do no one any good if they triggered a reactor explosion in their efforts to save Larry. Finally, Chris got the go-ahead to try the cockpit.

  Chris unlatched the starboard manual release and another crew member popped open the port side release. The cockpit gave a little burp and they couldn’t move it more than an inch. Damage to the ship had warped the rails holding the transparent canopy. Chris took his pry bar and with brute force, he pushed the canopy full open. He cleared the way for the medics to get to Larry.

  With a mother’s care, the medics removed Larry’s helmet and immobilized his neck. Using a function of the power suit, they completely immobilized his body. The suit became rigid. They could now remove him without fear of further damaging his spine.

  A unique feature of this fighter was that the seat was removable in case of a crash. Rather than manhandling an injured pilot out of the cockpit. A cable would hoist the seat up and out. The injured pilot could then be moved without further injury.

  Throughout this process, Larry remained unconscious. His suit relayed his vital signs and they stayed within safe limits. They wheeled him away to the medical section sickbay. There, they would conduct full body scans before they even tried to remove him from the seat.

  Chris sat down on the edge of the cockpit as he watched Larry disappear into the ship. He sat there for a moment allowing his thoughts to settle down. He was about ready to head back to his cabin when he got a message to meet in the small galley. Coffee sounded good right now.

  He had to pass the sick bay to get to the galley, so he stopped by to see them working on Larry. Still immobilized in his seat and wearing his power suit, he was being scanned for injuries. The doctor and several assistants were standing around a monitor screen viewing the results. Chris noticed they were smiling.

  “Doctor, how is he?” Chris asked.

  The Doctor smiled. “The results are preliminary, but initial scans show a basilar skull fracture. That's a fracture of the base of the skull. It usually occurs where the brain stem exits the skull and becomes the spine.”

  “Wait, that doesn’t sound good to me,” Chris said.

  Nodding the doctor responded. “You’re right, and it didn’t use to be. It was almost always fatal. At one time, it was a major cause of death among twentieth-century auto race drivers. In an accident, the body was well secured, however, the head wasn’t. It was whipped around in collisions. The bones in the base of the skull would shatter and death was usually immediate. Eventually, racers began to wear a device that limited the heads movement and these deaths decreased. We had had the same thing here only the fracture is small, there are no bone fragments acting like shrapnel in the brain and we can heal the damage. With our rapid bone damage repair, He'll be up and walking about in no more than a week. In a month, he’ll be back flying.”

  Stunned by the prognosis Chris asked “Really? Why is he still out?”

  “There’s a little swelling at the brain stem, and this is the body’s way to shut down to protect itself. Also, his suit automatically injected him with meds to sedate him to prevent his moving about. He’ll be fine, I promise.” The Doctor said while directing Chris to leave, and let them get back to work.

  Chris arrived last in the galley. I had called the meeting of our little war council. Around the table sat Julie, Nicky, Me and now Chris. Nicky passed a cup of his finest brew to Chris and asked, “How’s Larry?”

  “He should be dead, but he’s going to need a week off before he gets back to work.” Chris’s voice sounded dumbstruck. “I helped pull him out of the wrecked ship. I was positive he would either die or be a cripple for life. His suit and the ship saved him.” Chris told us the rest of the story and we all shared in the amazement.

  I got everyone’s attention. “There was one ship left after the battle. It fled the system as fast as it could. We lost track once they got far enough away. I suggest we station two sensor satellites to scan for incoming ships. It will give us warning if they come back. I have a feeling they will be coming back. There's something about that little planet that is pulling them in.”

  “Good idea. They are very expensive, but what good are they if we don’t use them. We can always retrieve them before we leave.” Chris said.

  Nicky added, “They’ll give us the eyes of two more ships, won’t they?” He asked rhetorically. “I say use them.”

  I made a note on my pad to launch the two satellites. “Are we ready to take up an orbit around Chico 7?” I asked everyone.

  Chris answered first. “Everything has been quiet on the planet according to Tommy’s last message. Our experts are ready to go. They’ve trained and qualified with the power suits and our weapons. They weren’t too keen on weapons training, but they seem to learn. I take that back. The two Kupp brothers grew up with weapons. They hunted with their grandfather and father as kids. They’re naturals.”

  Nicky spoke next. “The troopers are ready. They need to get out and stretch their legs some. They’ve been working out day and night. They also need a break from getting thrown around the practice mat by our head chef. Most of them have now felt the embarrassment of a loss to a woman half their size. I love it. It helps keep their egos from swelling too big to fit on the ship.”

  Julie spoke last. “Our special guest is doing well. Butch is behaving, and he and Kenny have been watching the sign language tutorials. Kenny has picked it up fast, he’s a smart kid. Butch is moving a little slower. Remember the little Troll doesn’t speak English and the tutorials are in English. He's picked up about ten words so far. He is also trying to pronounce the words, but I don’t think they have the vocal cords for speaking. I don’t think there'll be a problem communicating with him. Kenny might even make a good translator at the speed he’s picking it up.”

  I sat back in my chair, drank the last of my coffee and spoke. “If there's nothing else, we're go for orbit and we can put together the first group to go down to the planet. Make sure Tommy and Jason know we are coming and deactivate the hilltop defenses. I don’t think we can send down the hogs until we build a suitable sty for them. I’ll talk to the Kupp brothers about that. Nicky, fill my cup, I want to go hit the bridge and I need a go cup.”

  Chapter 14

  From the surface on Chico 7, it appeared to be nothing more than another shooting star. When it didn’t vanish over the horizon, Tommy and Jason knew it was a spacecraft. They were expecting the shuttle from Lola, so they’d deactivated the defenses on the hilltop landing area. The last thing anyone wanted was the ring of lethal weapons aimed at the hilltop to wipe out the Genus landing party.

  Several weeks ago, these defenses had stopped the Organization's bandits from landing and taking possession of the planet. The results were devastating. A few bandits escaped in their spacecraft, but they left behind piles of dead and dying bandits littering the hilltop.

  As the shooting star closed on the hilltop, the two troopers made out details of the shuttle and recognized it was from Lola. The radio in Tommy’s helmet chirped and he heard Tony Nicosta ask “Are you sure you’ve turned off everything? I don’t want to scratch this bird. Jack wouldn’t like that.”

  Tommy responded in mock seriousness, “I pretty sure, but there’s so much pointed up at the sky, I won’t be positive until you try to land.”

  Nicky chuckled. “Blow me out of the sky and you’ll need to find a Troll girlfriend to settle down with because you won’t be going home.”

  Tommy, unable to contain the laughter responded. “Yeah, yeah, come on in. we cleared a corner for you.”

  Jason smiled as he spoke, “It’ll be great to see everyone again, and to take a shower.”

  Since Lola had sailed away, Jason, Tommy, Dora, and Rick have camped on Chico 7. The
ir purpose was to secure the landing site and protect the race of creatures known as Trolls.

  The Trolls lived in the caves and tunnels beneath the hilltop. The full extent of the tunnels was unknown even to the Trolls and was constantly changing as they dug new tunnels and collapsed others. They'd lived here for centuries and had tunneled throughout the area, looking for food, and exploring. Deep below in a large cavern was a spaceship. According to the Troll legend, the ship brought their ancestors to this planet a millennium ago. This spacecraft, almost fully encapsulated by the speleothemic flow of dissolved minerals now hardened, sat entombed waiting for examination by scientists.