Jak Phoenix

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Jak Phoenix Page 20

by Matt D. Williams


  ***

  A short while later, the G33 moon finally came in to view. It slowly grew from a point of light, to a larger point of light, to a small sphere, and to a large globe with distinguishable features on the grey surface. Craters and other surface features became visible, but Dodge’s ship did not.

  “This is his last reported position,” said Baxter.

  “From the sound of his transmission, Rusty didn’t think he was going anywhere,” said Jak. He squinted as he scanned the space in front of them, trusting his eyes more than his sensors when it came to matters of personal importance. “Let’s get into an orbit around the moon. He might just be around the other side.”

  “Heading in,” replied Baxter. He made a few adjustments and slowed the ship’s momentum before changing to a safe trajectory.

  As they neared the moon with their sensors on maximum, the three shipmates repetitively shifted their focuses between the outside of the cockpit window and the sensor readouts. Dodge’s ship was nowhere to be seen, as they locked into an orbit around the moon. The black scenery of space which had become so familiar over the past few days was replaced with the speckled and beaten grey surface of the dried moon.

  The light reflected from the nearest star began to fade as they passed around the dark side of the moon, until they were in near blackness. Jak watched the darkness for a flash or some other sign of Dodge’s spacecraft.

  Still, there was no sign of him.

  “Do you think he left?” asked Cyan.

  “Not likely,” said Jak. “He’s not the type who would radio for help if he didn’t absolutely need it.”

  “What if his ship has been destroyed?” she asked.

  “You’d see some debris or something. He’s gotta be here somewhere.”

  The pitch black of the rear of the moon eerily made things seem quieter, as if the lack of light had some effect on the ambient noise. Jak made an effort to visually scan the area, the light increasing slightly as they made their way around the orbit, until they passed back into the bright sun-drenched side of the lunar body.

  “Look!” shouted Baxter, pointing out the window.

  Jak had seen it the same moment Baxter had said it.

  Not in orbit, but on the surface. In the center of a small crater, lay a small object. The Brigatine — Dodge Stonewall’s ship.

  “Dodge, come in.” Jak repeated it over the intercom several times.

  “It looks like it’s in decent shape, considering,” said Baxter.

  Jak agreed. It had landed right side up in what appeared to have been a controlled landing. The ship had still hit hard enough to cause enough concussive force to create its own crater on the dusty surface. If the ship hit nose first or at an angle, it would have crumpled and there would be no hope of any life saving. It wouldn’t have been a pleasant ride, but they were still in one piece, at least on the outside.

  “Let’s go in,” said Jak.

  He grabbed the flight stick and broke the orbit, flying quickly, but cautiously, toward the surface where Dodge’s ship lay dormant.

  Baxter squinted at the information on his screen. “I’m getting some power readings on their ship. Very faint, but there is something still running down there.”

  Jak took it under advisement, but it didn’t really matter. He was going in either way. As he was flying in closer, he realized that Murdock had become dangerous, as Rusty had mentioned. There was a time when he was just a nuisance, but seeing a shipwreck with his friend involved, that Murdock had willingly caused, told him the stakes had been raised. Murdock had gone too far and turned over an ugly new leaf.

  Jak pushed aside his thoughts and spun his chair around to face Cyan. “Do me a favour, would you? Down the hall, to your left, down the second corridor there’s a room with a whole bunch of lamps and first-aid kits and stuff. Could you grab a few things that you think we’ll need?”

  “Sure,” she answered.

  “They’re all organized on the floor, so try not to mess them up,” added Jak.

  Cyan gave a short laugh through her nose and turned to leave. Jak ignored her answer and turned back around.

  Jak had brought the ship in very close to the surface, and could not see any signs of life from the outside of Dodge’s ship. It appeared to be in rough shape, with clear scarring from energy weapons. The crater was big enough for Jak to land his ship right beside the Brigatine.

  “Bax, how do you feel about linking up to his dock port?”

  “Could be a bit awkward,” said Baxter, “but it would save us from having to go out in space suits. You think you can get the ship in that close?”

  “I’ll see if I can get in there, and you get the lock system ready.”

  “No problem.” Baxter flipped a few levers and leaped up out of his chair, rushing back into the ship toward the interlock.

  Jak wanted to bring the ship down close enough to touch the other ship, while lining up the air lock ports on the two crafts. It wasn’t something you would normally do when not freely flying in space, but it would be a simpler scenario than having to land further back and make trips across the moon surface. The only drawback was that if he missed by an inch, he’d probably crush the side of Dodge’s ship and rip a hole in his own.

  Jak slowly lowered his ship into the fresh crater, kicking up the grey dust off the surface of the moon. Visibility became difficult, so Jak was forced to fly by his instrumentation and his guts.

  He felt a bit of a bump as he came in a little too close and nicked the edge of Dodge’s ship, but was able to pull up again in time to correct his path. Jak lowered the ship again, watching his computer screen as it gave an estimate of where he was in relation to the other spacecraft. His course looked good so he hit a few buttons to lower the landing pads.

  Down the ship went until it made contact with the surface of the moon. Reverse thrusters fired in order to slow the ship’s downward momentum, tossing up some more powdery moon soil. He felt the confirmation of a solid landing. Jak watched the dust settle on his cockpit window as the moon’s weak gravity slowly pulled the powder back to the surface.

  His readouts said he was lined up.

  “We’re good,” gasped Baxter as he ran back into the cockpit.

  Jak jumped out of his chair and joined Baxter as they rushed back to the airlock. They passed Cyan on the way, her arms full with the gear Jak had requested.

  “Thanks for your help,” was the only thing Jak offered as he flew past her.

  She grumbled as she struggled with Jak’s decrepit space gear and was aggravated by the lack of a gentlemanly offer of assistance.

  They reached the circular door, which was surrounded in a few outdated computer consoles. Through the thick door’s cloudy window, Jak could see the opposite door of the Brigatine, close beside them.

  Baxter punched a few things into the console, to verify their alignment to the other door. It needed to be absolutely exact, or it would be a failure.

  Jak grabbed on to a rusted wheel to the left of the door and turned it with all his strength. The seldom used wheel squealed in reluctance as the internal gears spun and sent a thick steel ring out the side of their ship, a few inches from the outside edge of their air lock door, to mate with the other ship in a magnetically sealed connection.

  A clang sounded and Jak could no longer turn the wheel. That told him the tube had extracted and connected successfully.

  Jak and Baxter shared a nervous glance as they both realized the danger in their next step; opening the door. If the airlock on Dodge’s ship was damaged, or the seal was bad, the air in the ship would likely drain violently from the ship and cause the short interlock tunnel to collapse. They decided not to let Cyan in on the potential risks.

  Jak flipped a heavy switch upward on his side of the door with two hands and Baxter did the same on his side. They both grabbed on to the handles, which were sunken into the round riveted door, took a breath and pushed it together, off to the right. The first attempt did
nothing, but on their second attempt, the door slid slightly and a loud hiss filled the room for a moment as the pressure and air evened out between their ship and the space in the link to Dodge’s ship.

  The fact that the hiss stopped told Jak the link was good, and they were safe for at least another couple of minutes. They continued to move the door, which rolled in its track into a slot in the hull of the Tempest.

  Cyan handed out a few spotlights. Jak aimed the bright light of his lamp at the door of the Brigatine in front of them. It was blackened with carbon scoring.

  “What do we do now?” asked Cyan.

  Jak looked at Baxter.

  Baxter was the first to suggest something. “Knock?”

  Jak shrugged his shoulders, ducked down and stepped into the low metallic cylindrical space between the ships.

  He knocked loudly. There was no response.

  He knocked again.

  “What!” It was not a question.

  The powerful voice from inside the Brigatine, able to be heard through a thick insulated door, was not impressed.

 

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