Misjump Read online

  The AI weighed the risk of leaving the coating damaged against the need for power to the laser and accelerators. It didn’t have a weighting for those variables and so it escalated the decision to the flagship; Gregor was too busy to give it attention, but Fumi was cranked up by a significant factor. The message appeared as text on a virtual display. She read it and picked through the data. Giving priority to repair would reduce the risk to the ship under normal conditions, but it would also reduce its ability to take out the threat. The damage was over a large area but light. She told the AI to prioritise the weapons but adjusted the evasion to try to protect that area from too many additional hits. The AI pulled power from the cells that made up much of the extended hull and several exploded as the load passed the safe limit, sending fragments out into space. Most delivered their power and added it to the output of the upgraded reactor. The ship bucked as the iron slugs sprayed out in a loose grouping. Many of the projectiles would pass through the sparse array of girders without effect, but even a few hits would cripple the weapon. The lasers switched to maximum duty cycle and the cooling systems moved up to overload. The beams made smaller circles on the display in front of the gunner, more focused now, and the ablative coating on the struts started to cook off. The gasses and particles scattered the beam, but the intense energy still burned away at the coating and, shortly after, the steel of the framework.

  Moments later, the slugs rained in, rippling away chunks of structure, the fragments spraying into space behind the greenie ship. The Fist passed over the greenie vessel with metres to spare and a missile launched from a tube on the enemy ship, initially slow but turning and rapidly coming up to speed. The Fist flipped end over end, killing its thrust to bring the lasers to bear and the missile blew, fragments flying everywhere including the hull of larger ship. The laser emplacement that it had attacked flapped uselessly in the vacuum, structural integrity gone. Suddenly the AI received an override and twisted the ship at maximum thrust, dodging the hail of slugs that the Nimitz had sent that way nearly half a minute before. One grazed the damaged underside of the Rockhammer and more hull tore away. Plasma and fragments from the impact pushed into power cells and caused secondary explosions, flipping the heavily modified trader end over end, out of the path of further danger. The remainder of the slugs raked the enemy ship, scoring the hull and slamming into the drive systems, punching deep into the metal and whatever lay behind them. Fumi told the AI to prioritise damage control and repairs as the ship flipped away from the boxy enemy vessel.

  The Tromp came in high and slow, spinning and rolling in a randomised pattern until they passed over what they assumed was the upper deck of the greenie ship and then stabilised, diving, hugging the hull of the big ship, under the laser fire. The emplacement had been designed not to target the ship that it was attached to. The Rockhammer strafed the reactive armour, triggering surface explosions that did no real harm to the hull but stripped it of a layer of defence. A missile previously launched at the Fist had been drifting, powered down after the loss of its target. The AI identified the target as a match with the one that it had been assigned and started its engines. It had limited fuel, but the target was close. It streaked towards the Rockhammer, closing the distance quickly. The Tromp picked up speed, weapons firing on auto, still skimming the boxy hull, dangerously close to the metal. It turned, swinging around the edge on full thrust, pushing hard against inertia and picking up speed. The missile followed, over the skin of the ship that had launched it, filtering the image of the target from the explosions and debris. It accelerated towards the stern of the Tromp, which flipped at the last possible moment, avoiding a collision with the swell of the greenie ship’s engines.

  The AI faltered, trying to understand the complex scene and the delay was fatal. It impacted the casing of the main engine on the greenie ship, already weakened by multiple iron rounds and punched into the body of the large ship. It exploded, rupturing the hull, spraying air and equipment into space and sending the Tromp spinning away. Secondary explosions rippled across the shell of the greenie warship, blistering the surface. The firing from the lasers stopped and no new missiles launched. The ship drifted, space around it thick with debris and ablative particles.

  “Tromp, Fist, Blade, report please,” broadcast Gregor on a shared channel. Several voices replied at one. “Tromp first. Report status.”

  “We are okay, kinda. We lost some control systems and can’t manoeuvre, but Horst says it is not that bad and we can fix it. We have life support and shit,” reported the pilot, his accent thick.

  “Roger, Tromp. Fist, status?” Gregor’s voice was tense and controlled.

  “Sarafina, this is Fist. We are Greens and Oranges across all systems, but we got pretty badly rattled by that blast. Damage control is progressing and we have some manoeuvrability. Do you have a vector for us? Over.”

  “Roger that, vector to follow. Blade, report status, please,” said Gregor.

  “Uh, Blade to Sarafina, we have significant damage to warp drive and it doesn’t look like there is enough of anything to fix, but we are Green for most systems. We lost some auxiliary power, but we have weapons and in-system drive. Where do you want us?”

  “Roger, Blade. To me, please.” said Gregor. “Nimitz, make best speed to here please.” The Nimitz acknowledged, already on their way.

  Chapter 24

  Gregor and Lori crawled over the hull, looking for a large enough hole to enter. They had found the airlock without problems, but the mechanism was hopelessly damaged. Jax was covering them from the gunnery chair, although he wouldn’t be able to do much from there. Ivo had taken the pilot’s chair, and Meilin and Fumi would handle engineering between them. The two crew on the captured ship could cut through the hull if they needed to, but the reactive armour made that dangerous. It would be possible to cut into the airlock, but it would have taken time and alerted any survivors on board. The airlock was also a favourite spot for defensive emplacements, and this was apparently a military vessel.

  Lori and Gregor moved carefully as there was a lot of jagged metal and their suits were only so strong. The lasers had cut jagged lines and the ballistic weapons created relatively small entry holes with the reactive armour blasting away from the hull. That left only one entry point: where the missile had impacted. The explosion had left tongues of metal curling out into space, treacherously sharp but relatively thin. Gregor was able to take the edge off them with a plasma cutter in under a minute and they entered the spacecraft through the hole blasted in the hull. The interior of the ship was dark and the artificial gravity was off. Gregor clicked on his helmet light, the beam invisible in the vacuum except when a droplet of once melted metal or other debris drifted in front of the light. Lori clicked hers on too, making a point not to look Gregor in the face since that would blind his light intensification system for a moment. They looked around at the bowed and torn walls.

  “Was all this damage from the missile? How big was the warhead on that thing?” asked Lori.

  “Would not have taken so much to split walls like this. Is more like converted freighter than warship. Missile hit main fusion reactor and maybe field failed. If no containment field, super hot plasma not want to be in there anymore and leave, mostly through hole that we came in. Shock wave as air heats up would have done for walls, I think,” said Gregor.

  “Hey, Greg?” Jax’s voice came over the radio. “I don’t think that the missile actually made it through the hull. I am playing back the recording, and it looks like the armour did a decent job except where it was holed. That all has to be from the reactor getting a little of the blast through a hole.”

  Gregor grunted. “Maybe. If so, damn bad luck for them.”

  “Do you think that there could be survivors?” asked Lori.

  “Maybe, if any part of ship still airtight but is not likely. Walls made of damn tinfoil. Is no way to make internals of military ship, and if made like that, how come they took ballistics so good? Makes no se
nse,” grumbled Gregor. He looked around the warped chamber again. “Control is maybe that way,” he said, indicating a corridor. They headed for the bent doorway, Lori clumsy in freefall even with her height to help her.

  The corridor was narrow even with the walls buckled out by the force of the explosion. High voltage power cables, data lines and lighting systems were all exposed. The walls were oddly bare, lacking access panels or doors into areas of the ship such as crew quarters or the bridge. “Where the hell is everything?” asked Lori.

  “Is damn good question. How would you maintain a ship like this without cutting into the wall every time you need to replace anything?” Gregor shone his helmet light over the internals of the ship. “Keep a look to sides and not to look at cutter, okay?” he said to Lori and rotated himself so that the scuffed floor became a wall in front of his face. He pulled the cutter from his belt and rapidly sliced through the thin metal with the plasma torch, removing a rectangular sheet of metal. He poked around in the cables, grunting before pushing himself off the floor towards the ceiling. He repeated the cuts and again prodded the cables, He looked over toward Lori and spoke. “No life support systems, no artificial gravity. Lots of data cables and power. Interesting, no?”

  Lori leaned forward to look at the cable runs for herself. “The crew would have worn vacsuits all the time? That doesn’t seem practical. Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” said Gregor. “This is not designed to be a crewed vessel. There was air inside but not needed. Air easier on electronics but no need to replace oxygen. Nitrogen only better yet.”

  Lori thought for a moment. “Why have walls at all then?” she asked.

  Gregor shrugged, the movement awkward in the vacuum suit. “Maybe electrical shielding, maybe to hold cables in place during acceleration. I don’t think this thing has internal dampers.” He turned back to the corridor and walked towards a bent and split panel at the end. He searched for a handle for a few moments before realising that it was held in place by screw fasteners. He reached for the plasma torch and lowered his visor. A minute later, he pulled the panel out of the way, pushing off against the corridor sides to park the metal plate against the wall. He was surprised by a quick movement from Lori seen from the corner of his eye. He looked over to see her floating with a gun drawn, trying to aim as she rotated. Gregor drew his own pistol, bracing against the corridor wall with his free hand. A figure in an old-fashioned vacuum suit was strapped into a chair that had been welded to the floor. The suited figure didn’t move. “Okay,” said Gregor. “Maybe crew do wear space suits all the time. Cover me.”

  “Excuse me? I am the doctor here. This could be a casualty. You cover me!” said Lori. Gregor didn’t reply but motioned with his gun for her to move forward. Lori slowly approached the figure, examining the suit. “Typical civilian suit without external readouts. That is not so helpful.” She peered into the faceplate, into the flat dark eyes of a gaunt man. She watched as his pupils shrunk in reaction to the light. “He looks like crap but seems to be alive. Unresponsive though. We have to get him into the sickbay.”

  “Uh, not so sure is good idea,” said Gregor. “This ship was firing on us. He is likely greenie and they are supposed to be infectious.”

  “Yes, I know,” said Lori. “But he is a prisoner now and I need to understand what makes him tick. I am not going to kill him if I can help it. Hell, I will keep him alive if there is any way, but we need to study him if we are to cure the rest.”

  “And you are so confident of isolation on the ship?” asked Gregor.

  Lori paused for a moment. “Well, the bay is better than it was and I will be suited. The air is filtered. It should be safe.”

  “Am not so keen on betting our life on what should be so,” said Gregor.

  Fumi’s voice came over the radio, slightly metallic with dropped data packets. “Or we could transfer him to the Iron Maid, scan him and freeze him. You can play with the simulation as much as you like.”

  “Okay, maybe yes, but there is no-one on that ship to contain him. Is not zero risk,” said Gregor.

  “Unless he can breathe space, that still works. Sickbay still has atmosphere. The stored drugs can’t handle the pressure difference. The rest of the ship is in hard vacuum. He isn’t going anywhere, and if he does, we can vent the atmosphere or blow the ship. It will be expensive, but we have options,” said Fumi.

  “Da. This I like better!” said Gregor.

  “Okay, good. Someone more, uh, physical will need to get him aboard the ship,” said Fumi.

  Jax’s voice broke into the conversation. “No problem. Ivo and me will get suited up and head on over.”

  “Okay,” said Gregor, “you will need to secure him for transport, yes?”

  “Already on it,” said Jax,

  It took twelve minutes for Jax and Ivo to arrive, their suits tagged green and blue for ease of identification. Gregor and Lori had stood guard over the greenie, but he hadn’t moved or reacted in any way to their presence. He was seated at a blank shelf with a tool chest clipped to the wall and a smaller case tacked to the wall with Velcro. He didn’t resist as Jax and Ivo pulled him out of the chair and secured his arms to his chest with emergency hull patches. The black mats were designed to stick over a hull breach and hold against an atmosphere of pressure. They were often used for rapidly binding one thing to another and were too strong for a person to tear. They secured his legs in the same way.

  “Wait, where are his spare tanks?” asked Ivo.

  Gregor looked around. He held onto the shelf which was otherwise useless in zero G and flipped open the tool chest to reveal neatly racked tools clipped in place. He moved to the side to reach for the other case but his suit shrilled a radiation warning. He pulled his hand back quickly. “Case is hot. Don’t go near. No extra oxygen. What he has is what he has.”

  Ivo checked the suit, turning the bound man in place. “Okay, it is twelve-hour tank and good for another eight hours, maybe a shade under. We can change his pack. From the SDB maybe?”

  “Maybe,” agreed Gregor. “Get him to Iron Maid but stay suited. He may have friends.”

  “On it, boss,” said Jax and they started towing the figure towards the hole in the hull.

  Gregor pushed himself to the far wall of the corridor and hammered on the metal with his cutting torch. The impact was solid with no bounce. “Hull,” he grunted. He pushed off, taking care to avoid the case still stuck to the wall. He passed Lori and she pushed off after him, their helmet lights showing the buckled walls. The other end of the corridor had a hatch into the forward section and metal cage, the door hanging open. A dark computer installation filled the metal frame, a keyboard and screen set in the surface. The screen was cracked where a metal fragment had embedded itself. Thick braids of cables led from the back into the wall.

  “Any ideas?” asked Lori.

  “Not yet,” said Gregor as he started to examine the system. After a while, he started tracing cables into the wall. “Da, yes, this is a mess but I get the idea. Top part is an autopilot that has been mated to a fairly standard AI core and a lot of heavy industrial control gear. Is not military but glued together from civilian parts. I think this ship is a bodged together single-use job under AI control.”

  “Greenie make?” asked Lori.

  “Maybe greenie assembled but parts are branded. AI is Sukkusu brand.”

  “Ok. What is the controller controlling then? Ships systems?” asked Lori.

  Gregor shook his head, exaggerating the gesture in the bulky suit. “Autopilot is hooked up for that. Control stuff would be for something like factory. Whatever, is other side of that wall. Let’s get it open.” He moved over to the door and tried to open it while bracing himself against the wall. It was stuck with no easy way to get purchase. The ship’s design only made sense in a gravity field. He pulled the cutter from his belt and started on the hinges, the bright energy blade slicing through the thin metal. The panel came free and drifted a little way from the wall.
Gregor looked over at Lori and saw that she had her pistol drawn, covering the opening, and so he slid the plate sideways, sending it down the corridor and himself towards the computer lash-up. Black smoke started to drift in to the corridor, moving oddly. It took Gregor a second to understand what he was seeing. It was moving oddly because there was no air and where there was no air, there couldn’t be smoke. He looked over at Lori and yelled, “Go!” the volume distorting his voice in the microphone. He pushed off the computer’s frame, aiming at Lori and collided with her, grabbing on and bearing her down the corridor. Lori started to say something, but the impact knocked the air from her lungs. Gregor kicked off one of the walls and then fended off the other wall with one hand, his other arm wrapped around Lori.

  “What are you doing?” gasped Lori. “What was that black stuff?”

  “Don’t know. We are getting out,” replied Gregor.

  “Okay, okay, put me down. We are away from it now,” said Lori, still panting.

  “Da, no problem but we go,” said Gregor, pushing her towards to improvised exit.

  “Do we even know that it was dangerous? It looked like smoke,” said Lori.

  “No smoke in vacuum. What it was is we don’t know and things that we don’t know can kill us. Better to be wrong safe than wrong dead. We go.” Gregor’s tone didn’t invite a debate. Sighing, Lori pulled herself through the hole in the hull.

  #

  Lori sat at the console and typed messages to Fumi on an ancient text interface. Apparently she was too busy with the scan to support video at the same time. “Are you sure that the drones can freeze him safely?”