Shoulders tensed around the bridge. “Evasive action, sir?” asked Roger.
“Steady as she goes,” said the captain. “Wait until they’re closer.”
Betty read off the range to the fast moving missiles. The captain didn’t tense until they reached the current’s boundary layer.
“They’re losing their speed,” reported Betty. “Fighters are catching up to them.”
“Missiles are even lighter than fighters,” said Landry. “Terrible environment for them.”
“The missiles are hitting the boundary layer,” said Betty. “Whoa, all over the place now. None of them made it through. A couple are headed back toward the fighters.”
Now the bridge crew wore smiles. More respectful than usual glances went toward the captain. Even the first mate gave him one.
Marcus came to the bridge hatch. “Hold is secure as it’s going to get, sir. Permission to take the jumpseat?”
“Granted.” Landry thought the best thing would be for his son to nap in preparation for replacing someone else who had to come off-duty. But there was no way he’d sleep with this much excitement going on.
“Holy shit!” squealed Betty. “A missile just hit a fighter! Let me send another ping.”
Everyone on the bridge held their breath.
“Oh my God. Yes. There’s only five fighters out there. And the missiles are too far away to see.”
They were too tired and stressed to cheer, but there were sighs of relief across the bridge.
Betty had more news. “Two of the fighters are going back the way they came. The others are spreading out, still heading toward us.”
“Bringing the news to Momma. We’ll see how well that one handles the storm,” said Landry.
“I’m not sure how much longer we’ll handle it,” said Roger. “I’ve cut relative speed to zero. We’re just drifting with the current. And pressure is still going up.”
“The current must be going toward the core,” said Landry. “We’ll move outward before it gets too high.”
“What happens when the mother ship comes after us?” asked Welly.
“Depends how aerodynamic it is,” said the captain.
“Can’t be very,” said Betty. “It reflects too well.”
“Which means it may be time to talk to them,” said Landry. He switched his repeater to a file he’d been making notes in. “First mate, tell me what you think of this.”
***
“I know how the blasted laws of physics work, Lead,” snarled Captain Wing. The Fighter Operations Leader acted as if the pilot’s death was Wing’s fault instead of that of the blasted traitors who’d led them here.
“I apologize, sir,” said the FOL. “I’m just suggesting the best use of our remaining fighters is to surround the storm and watch for the freighter to emerge.”
“I’m not going to let them hide forever.” Wing forced himself to stop grinding his teeth.
“Sir, incoming signal,” said the communications officer.
“Put it on,” said Wing. “Which fighter is it?”
“Um, not a fighter, sir.”
Captain Landry’s face formed on the screen, seated in his command chair. Lane and Marcus stood stern-faced by his shoulders. “Censorial Commander, this is Captain Niko Landry of the Azure Tarn. I hope you’re enjoying this chase. It’s certainly been an adventure for us.”
Landry leaned forward. “I know you’ve been ordered to bring us back. I assure you we have no interest in harming the Censorate. We just want to go home. If we have to we can go out of sight and drop into normal space. We can stay there for months. Can you?”
The transmission cut off.
Captain Wing suddenly felt calmer than he had in a full day. “Comm, delete that insolence from the log. Helm, take us directly to the freighter, best speed.”
The senior chief on the helm said respectfully, “Sir, doctrine requires the chief engineer’s approval before entering volumes with aether density over—”
“Yes, yes, ask him,” interrupted Wing.
The brief conversation was followed by the chief engineer’s face appearing on the captain’s personal display. “Sir, if we were flying a cruiser or destroyer we could chase those traitors right into the core of the storm. Implacable isn’t designed for that kind of stress.”
Captain Wing unclenched his jaw to say, “You’re saying our ship’s structure is too flimsy?”
“It’s not the structure, sir.” The engineer’s face was replaced with a rotating diagram of the carrier. It was a thick disk, one face pocked with sockets to hold the fighters. The drive unit projected from the other side, ready to accelerate Implacable to match her fighters’ speed when bringing them back on board.
The engineer continued, “It’s her shape. A flat bow gathers the aether instead of deflecting—”
“Lieutenant Commander, I did pass basic spacemanship. Implacable has cruised in dense aether before.”
“Yessir. But the storm has gusts. One could exceed our limits.”
“Fine. We’ll put fighters out to warn of gusts.”
A thoughtful look passed across the chief engineer’s face. Then it went back to grim. “Even so, sir, I can’t authorize entry to the storm.”
“Very well. You’re relieved.”
The deputy also required relief. The third engineer approved it, after a brief chat with the helmsman directing response to gusts and severe turbulence.
Implacable headed into the storm, launching the last of her hyperspace-capable fighters.
***
“Density’s going up, sir,” said Roger. No one was surprised. Azure Tarn was shaking harder despite reducing thrust to zero.
“Time to exit this highway,” said Captain Landry. “Quarter ahead thrust. Hard to starboard.”
“Aye-aye.” They didn’t feel a change as the ship yawed to the side of the current. The boundary was a mix of green and blue, turbulence showing in the chaotic movement.
“When you reach another current follow it,” said Landry gently. “Do it by feel.” His voice was just audible over the roar of aether past the hull.
When the ship crossed out of the current the roar intensified. Azure Tarn pitched and yawed. Clots of fog flowed over the ship, obscuring the view then moving past. Lightning flashed to port. Metal groaned as the hull strained under the pressure.
A clear orange current showed, shifting to dead ahead as Roger steered toward it. More bits of fog swirled in between. The turbulence was strong. Landry considered ordering Roger to steer over it. No. He’d delegated the job, time to let Roger work. He clamped his jaw shut.
As the ship forged into the chaos she kept thrashing about. Landry realized Roger was riding the vortices, letting the ship’s nose make a full circle then thrusting forward into the next swirl of aether before backing off on the engines again. Boy knows what he’s doing.
The shaking was worse as they approached the orange current. Its boundary layer was thicker than the one they broke through to escape the purple current. There were no simple vortices now, just forces battering at the ship with no pattern.
The creaking of the hull could only be heard in the momentary lull as the aether shifted to come at them from a new direction. Then a screech of tearing metal overwhelmed the sound of the storm.
“Shit!” cried Betty. “The dish is gone!”
Welly shouted, “Hull breach! Aether is shorting out the lines. Shutting down breakers.”
Roger struggled with his controls. “I lost the forward attitude thrusters!”
“I’ll have to blow out the aether and reseal,” said Welly, barely audible over the storm.
Landry waved her down. “Wait!” The deck was rolling too much for anyone to move safely around the ship.
“Dammit!” Roger slammed multiple levers to their limits. The hull groaned. Then the green fog over the bridge windows cleared. They were in the current. Shaking and noise died away as he jockeyed them to the center of the stream.
“Permission to execute damage control?” asked Welly, already on her feet.
“Granted,” said the captain.
Marcus popped out of the jumpseat. “I can help.”
“Fine. Both of you suit up.”
***
Welly reached for the locker labeled ‘DAMAGE CONTROL SUITS.’
“Wait,” said Marcus. “Those are for vacuum. Let’s use the EVA suits. They handle high pressure.”
“Can we spare the time?”
“Can we afford a ripped suit?”
The bulky EVA suits had all been moved to lockers by the upper deck airlock as part of preparing the hold for the floaters. They helped each other don them. That involved more bracing against the ship’s lurches than holding gear.
When Welly’s helmet snapped into place Marcus began inspecting her seals. She confined her complaint to tapping a toe in frustration. Her return inspection was cursory.
Then they headed down the forward stairs. The landing had two hatches labeled ‘CARGO HOLD’ and ‘ELECTRONICS BAY.’ Welly yanked the latter open.
“Crap,” she said.
Bits of orange mist were visible in the accessway. Some clung to the deck or bulkhead.
“We can contain it.” Marcus turned to the environmental panel for the stairwell. He increased the pressure setting to 1.3 atmospheres. Air began blowing through the open hatch, sending the mists into circular flurries.
“Come on.” Welly waved him through then closed the hatch behind him.
He took patches out of the DC locker while Welly went from one access panel to another, peeking in to assess the damage. The ‘MAIN DISH PWR CNDT’ panel puffed out orange mist.
“That’s it. Six inch round.”
Marcus handed her the patch.
“Four by two. Vacctape. Clamp ring, four inch.” He kept passing Welly the necessary supplies. She had all the tools for the job on her belt.
“There, one hole done.” Welly moved to the next panel. “Oh, this isn’t bad. Two inch round.” All the tears in the hull were places where the sensor dish had been firmly attached before tearing loose. She efficiently sealed them all.
“Done. Done with the holes. We still need to get rid of the aether.” She waved at a clump floating past her face, then rubbed her hand on the bulkhead to scrape off the sticky vapor.
Marcus said, “Usually we’d jump to normal space and dump the compartment to vacuum. But God help us if the Censorials follow us through before we’re done.”
“Yeah. And jumping back into a moving storm could kill us. We could pump the compartment down to vacuum but the seals won’t hold against the pressure difference.” Welly turned in place to survey the compartment as she thought. “Ah. Marcus, start pumping air out of the compartment.”
“Okay.” He reset the environmental controls. Even through the suit helmets they could hear the whine of the pump as it forced air out through the hull valve. The orange mist drifted toward the intake.
“And now to solve the pressure problem.” Welly opened the hatch. It slammed against the stops, flung hard by the 1.3 overpressure in the stairwell.
They could see the higher pressure air rush in by the way it forced the mist ahead of it. Much of the aether went straight into the pump intake.
“That’s working. Clean up next,” said Welly. The EVA suits had an external line for the air tank. It was intended to supply another suit. She opened the access panel closest to the hatch and blasted it with air from the line. Bits of orange vapor flew out and were carried into the current toward the pump. When they were all gone she moved on to the next panel.
Marcus used his air line on the bits of aether clinging to the bulkhead and deck. “Why the hell is this stuff so damn sticky.”
“Surface tension. It’s a pure fluid. No atoms.”
“I hate hyperspace physics.”
When all the aether had been blown out Welly inspected the power lines to the attitude thrusters. “Looks clean now.” She called the bridge to request a breaker reset. The indicator lights came on.
Roger tested the thrusters and declared them functional.
“Thank God,” said Welly. “Now we can get out of these damn suits.”
“Hold off on that. I want to talk to the captain first.”
Eying someone suspiciously in a spacesuit required turning the entire body to face him. Welly shuffled her feet around to do so. “What?”
“We set the air in here to 1.3 atmospheres to hold the seals in place. What if we did that to the whole ship?”
“We explode when we go back to normal space.”
“Yeah, we’d have to reduce pressure before we transition.”
“It would counter the external pressure. Hmmm.” Welly thought a moment. “We’d have to wear suits. Should be doing that anyway in case the hull breaches. Let’s talk to the captain.”
***
Captain Landry interrupted Marcus halfway through his description of his idea. “Let me get Gander on the line.”
Once the intercom was open Marcus started through it again.
When he finished, Landry said, “What do you think, Chief?”
“It’ll work. Need to go back down to one atmosphere before we go back to normal space. Want to close the interior hatches to compartmentalize breaches. There’s a lot of reserve air. Might as well use it all.”
“Then we’ll do it once everyone is suited up. Betty, are those fighters still hanging around?”
“Still pinging us every two minutes. Haven’t missed one yet,” she reported.
“Are they keeping close to us?”
“No, the storm is blowing them all over the sky. Still in radar range.”
“Then we can ignore them for a bit. Go suit up. Roger, let Marcus take the helm. You and Soon suit up too.”
“Find where Alys is hiding while you’re at it,” said Marcus. He had to adjust the helm chair, lowering the seat and spreading out the arms so he could fit in it wearing the EVA suit.
Putting everyone in suits wasn’t the most time consuming part of the operation. Gander put everyone who could be spared to opening hatches and access panels. He didn’t trust the air circulation system to handle a pressure surge that large.
Once every door on Gander’s list was open the chief engineer opened up the ship’s nitrogen and oxygen tanks. Azure Tarn’s designers prepared for a hull breach that left the whole ship in vacuum. The interior pressure was just over two atmospheres when the tanks were empty.
Then Gander insisted on closing all the doors again.
The first mate led Marcus, Welly, and Soon back onto the bridge. As Marcus fastened the seat belt on the jumpseat he asked, “Did we miss any excitement?”
“No,” answered the captain. “We’re following the same current. It’s heading into the heart of the storm. We’ll have to get out soon. Those damn fighters are still watching us so we can’t go back to normal space.”
“What if we transition to normal space and wait for them to go away?” asked Welly.
Captain Landry shook his head. “If we sit there until the storm moves past the mother ship can come through. We need to break contact before hiding.”
“Pressure gradient is increasing,” said Roger.
“Very well. Take us out of the current.”
Roger pivoted Azure Tarn away from the center of the storm. He cut speed as she reached the boundary of the current. The exit was smoother than the last time. The hull made a few faint creaks, nothing like the groans they’d heard before.
Landry pivoted to face Marcus and gave him an approving nod.
The turbulence shook the ship about as badly as before. Roger rode with the vortices. Their course was a random walk through the storm. Soon had declared this was as likely to find a favorable current as a more deliberate search pattern.
“Found a current,” said Roger. He fought the ship toward the pink streak.
“Don’t,” said Soon. “It’s headed straight into the core.”
With a curse the helmsman twisted the ship away. Vortices tossed her about. They worked toward the edges of the storm.
“There’s a current above us,” said Welly, leaning to look out her window.
Roger pitched the ship up to get a look at it.
“That’ll take us straight toward the fighters,” warned Betty.
“Do it,” said the captain. “If we move fast enough we might go past and lose them.”
The green current was weaker than the others they’d been in. The boundary layer shook the ship without straining the hull. Once in the center of the current Roger increased thrust to move faster than the flow.
“We’re closing on the fighters,” said Betty.
“Are they reacting to us?” asked the captain.
“Can’t tell. The storm’s been bouncing them around like crazy.”
“Acknowledged.”
Betty smiled. “This is a reaction. They just increased their ping rate. Every ten seconds.”
The fighters were still caught in the maelstrom as Azure Tarn rode the current past them. The frantic pinging continued as they fell further behind.
“If we break contact we can drop to normal space,” said Captain Landry.
“Still getting echoes off us,” reported Betty. “But fading.”
Landry pressed the intercom switch. “Gander, how long would it take to pump the air back down to normal?”
“Twenty minutes at least,” said the chief engineer. “Pumping up high pressure tanks is harder than letting them bleed off.”
“Right. We’ll have to be sure we’ve broken contact then.”
Betty shouted, “Low frequency ping! The mother ship saw us!”
The green current curved around high pressure regions. Azure Tarn went around a bend into a straightaway. Filling the far end was the Censorial ship. The boundary of the current bulged out as it flowed around the huge vessel.
A line of aether reaching halfway between them turned white then spread out, fading into the rest of the current.
“At least we’re out of energy weapon range,” said Landry. “Take us into the turbulence.”
Roger turned hard to port.
Storm Between the Stars: Book 1 in the Fall of the Censor Page 19
