Derelict
Posted: Fri Apr 15, 2011 6:19 pm
Derelict
by Ganelon
Derelict by Daniel Bemis, AKA Ganelon, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License. (Ooliters don't need to worry much about the NoDerivs, though I'd like to be asked if anyone ever wants to borrow the characters for another story.)
_______________________
Part 1
He kept the trigger pulled, expecting at any moment to hear the overheating alarm go off and have them cut out on him. Laser shots were ringing ominously off his hull as he rode the injectors in on his target. The Thargoid warship loomed, it's glowing bulk filling the viewscreen as he sped towards it on what could very well turn out to be a collision course.
“It's now or never. Just a little more..” He growled.
Suddenly there was a blinding flash. He looked down below his cockpit's glare shield, blinking rapidly to try and clear his dazzled eyes. He eased off the laser and injectors just as he heard “Weapons system.. overheating.” There was a brief clatter on the hull as his ship cruised through the debris from the warship. A few more laser strikes rang off his hull, then all was silent. Finally his eyes cleared enough to be able to see the scanner clearly. Several blips nearby and to his aft, but they were all white.
“You still there, Yoofie?” He asked as he took his hands of the controls, flexing his right hand to try and relieve the cramped muscles.
“Yes, Jack.”, a female voice responded from the intercom.
“What kind of shape are we in?” He asked as he shut the throttle all the way down and rand his fingers through his sweat-soaked short dark hair.
“No systems reporting as critical, Commander.” Yoofie paused. “Shall I commence full diagnostic checks?”
“Yeah. Probably should.” Jack nodded and after checking the display for the ship's chronometer, he pressed the button on the panel for his long overdue meal. A soft whirring inside the upper starboard console commenced as the dispenser unit started up. A display screen prompted him for flavour choice and he keyed through the selections until he settled on burrberry.
His ship, the Sliver, was making occasional brief sounds and movements as Yoofie checked her out. The synthetic person's proper name was Euphrosyne, but Jack had never called her that and he doubted his father had either. Jack's father had Yoofie installed in an attempt to pacify Jack's mother's jealousy. She had accused the old man of sleeping with every copilot he hired. When the accusations started again even after Jack's father started hiring only male crew members, he'd decided that enough was enough and had the synthetic personality installed.
A soft chime from the dispenser broke Jack's somewhat marred reveries, and he licked his lips hungrily as he undogged the panel and slid it up. He grabbed the chilled sphere and flipped up the attached drinking tube and took a long pull. He started to close the panel, but hesitated, sighed and took out the small ration package of three 'krunchee-stix'.
Jack hated krunchee-stix. They possessed almost no nutritive value, and were for the most part dry, brittle, and almost without flavour. They were part of the rations of basic spacer chow only because the law frowned on purely liquid diets for spacers. Allegedly, they fulfilled some need to bite and chew something, and helped clean teeth and stimulate gums. Most spacers either considered them a sort of penance to be stoically endured or simply thought of them as wretched. But Jack was hungry enough at the moment that they were at least a few additional mouthfuls of something to eat.
“Diagnostic checks complete.” Yoofie announced. “Shall I give the full report or would you prefer just the damage report, Commander?”
“Let's hear just the damage, Yoofie.” Jack swallowed another mouthful of the thick berry flavoured beverage and tore open the package of krunchee-stix.
“No systems are dysfunctional. Engines are at ninety two percent. Rear shield generator is at ninety seven percent. Some hull damage, but it seems to be superficial. All other systems are fully functional. Life support consumable goods are sufficient for at least several days, medical supplies are all fully stocked.” She paused. “If I may say so, Commander, I believe your father would have said 'Good shooting, Tex.'”
Jack nodded and chuckled. “Yeah, he probably would have. Right now, though, it's time to take care of business and get out of here. As soon as we make station, I'm for a radiant bath and a steak!”
He took the controls and brought the ship around, finding and identifying each of the white blips. Having confirmed that they were five Thargoid robot combat drones, he turned to his cargo screen. He jettisoned five tons of liquor to make space in the cargo bay, and then carefully scooped up the inert drones.
“Well, it's a shame to dump good booze, but we can get more for these Thargons, eh, Yoofie?”
“Affirmative, Commander.” She replied.
“Let's point our nose to home”, Jack said, reaching out and thumbing the cover off the jump control and pressing the button.
“Jump failed. Insufficient fuel for your jump.” came the calm recorded voice from the console as “Insufficient fuel for witchspace jump” came up on the status screen.
“No!” Jack shouted. Then he sat for a moment with his head in his hands, shaking his head.. “Nonononono...”
Finally he looked up and called up the navigational map, but it only confirmed what he already knew. “One point three units of fuel short. Guess I should have been keeping a closer watch on the fuel when I was riding the injectors, Yoof.”
“Affirmative, Commander.” She replied.
“Well...” He shrugged. “Guess we'll have to take a few hours break in our busy schedule to cruise and let the fuel collector top up the tank before we can be homeward bound.”
“Negative, Commander.”
“Huh?” Jack paused with his hands already on the controls.
“Fuel collection is slower in interstellar space, due to the lack of proximity of stars or leakage from other ships.” Yoofie's synthetic voice sounded unusually tenative. “Calculating.”
Jack waited.
“Calculation complete. At eighty seven percent speed, it will take approximately seventeen standard days to collect sufficient fuel to jump to the nearest station.”
“Why wouldn't we be running at full speed?” Jack asked.
“Engines are somewhat damaged. Running at full speed would give an estimated eighty percent chance of failure before sufficient fuel can be collected for the jump.” Yoofie paused. “Sorry, Jack.”
“Well, I suppose we'd better have a look at it then. EVI drone ready, Yoofie?”
“Ready and on your console, Commander.” Yoofie replied.
Jack nodded and hit the EVI button. A moment later, the main screen switched to the Extra-Vehicular Inspection drone that had been deployed and was now off the port side of the ship. Jack looked over the damage briefly and then hit the EVI control again, and then again, causing the small drone to swoop to a different external view of the ship. When he got to the starboard view, Jack winced slightly. The Thargoid lasers had scored a path right through the blue cobra logo.
It had been a while since that logo had been common. The Sliver was an older ship. An early model of Aegidian Shipyards' “chopped Cobra”, properly called a Cobra Mark 3.5, but it was better to just call her a chopped Cobra around The Cobra MKIII crowd. The first and only ship that Jack's father had bought brand new, and the only ship Jack had ever owned. She was a bit sleeker than a standard Cobra, a bit faster, and a bit less cargo bay. The Sliver was a good little fighter, though, and Jack knew how to use her tight turn radius to his advantage in a dogfight. Jack sometimes dreamed of upgrading to a new Python, with a big cargo bay, so he could make some real credits or maybe even a Boa. He knew that if he ever did change ships, he would miss the swift nimbleness of the Sliver, though. He made as many credits bounty hunting as he did trading, unlike his father.
He cycled the drone back to the aft position for another look at the engines. “Well, at least it doesn't look too bad.”
“The damage is superficial, except for here..” Yoofie placed a blinking red dot on one spot of the display. “That hit got us right on the edge of the housing for the focusing bell. The damage itself is minor, but it's keeping us from going to full throttle without it overheating and risking full failure.”
Jack nodded, thinking. “What bearing to aim our nose to home, Yoofie?”
“The heading won't matter for the jump, Jack.”
Jack nodded. “I know, but it's a point of morale. I'll feel better if I think of us as being on our way home.” He paused. “How much food do I have?”
“Six days at standard rations.” Yoofie replied.
Jack nodded. Water was no problem, the Sliver had a recycler for that. But since he rarely did trade runs that needed more than a few days, neither Jack nor his father had ever felt it necessary to put in one for food. Jack rarely was more than a day out of some station or other stop, and so he didn't even keep the dispenser console topped up, only refilling it when it actually ran out of either nutrient or flavouring. “I'll have to go light on rations, then. By the end of seventeen days, it's likely to be getting pretty hungry around here.”
“Seventeen days is strictly an estimate, Jack. If we are lucky, we may run across a section of space that is a bit richer in fuel per cubic kilometer, and that could take days off that number.” Yoofie said in a hopeful tone.
“But doesn't that also mean it could take us considerably longer to collect enough fuel to jump?” Jack asked.
After a brief pause, she replied, “Affirmative.”
Jack nodded. “Well, we'll just have to see how she goes. Can we plot that bearing so we're at least aimed towards home?”
“Affirmative, Commander.” She replied. A navigational dial came up on one of the auxiliary display screens. “From our current position, zed three two degrees, five minutes, six decimal one seconds starboard. Negative zed four seven degrees, twenty minutes, forty seven decimal eight seconds pitch.”
“Roger Dodger!” Jack replied brightly, bringing the ship around and setting the throttle to eighty seven percent. The engines thrummed and the “pull” from the acceleration came and eased off as the Sliver came up to speed. “I'm off to the refreshener, Yoofie. Alert me if we get anything in proximity. Don't wait for it to go red.”
“Aye aye, Commander.” Yoofie replied as Jack unstrapped himself from the cockpit seat and headed for the ladderway down to the crew berths and his quarters.
Once inside the Commander's quarters, Jack stripped off his flight suit and tossed it into the bin and headed immediately to the refreshener. He hit the switches to activate it and undogged the latches as he waited for the ready lights. Shortly the lights came on and the door in the side of the vertical tube slid open. Jack stepped in and thumbed the switch to close, then start the machine. A fine tepid mist of droplets came first from above and then from below, alternating every few seconds. Jack wished it was a nice radiant tub or, better yet, a real hot water bath on dirtside. But small ships had rather conservative facilities, and something nicer would have to wait until they could make station. The water mist had the same blandly chemical scent as the drinking water, but at least it was better than his own sweat.
Jack ran a hand across his chin and upper lip, feeling the stubble. He briefly considered trying to shave, but since he usually had a barber at whatever station he stopped at every couple of days shave him, he decided against risking it right now. He let the refreshener run until it finally timed out, then thumbed the switch for the drying button, spending the next couple of minutes letting the warm air pass over him. Finally it stopped as well and the panel slid back as he pressed the exit button. He re-dogged the latches on the refreshener tube, since it was an old model, and that had to be done to keep it from leaking during accelerations. He dressed in a fresh flight suit and headed back up to the command deck.
“How are we doing?” He asked as he resumed his place in the lone pilot's seat.
“No proximities detected. All systems are fully operational except for those already noted otherwise.” Yoofie replied. “How are you feeling, Jack?”
“Better.” He nodded. “Much better. Now, I had a thought while getting cleaned up. I took the required classes on basic repairs and maintenance back in flight school. Are there any repairs we have the parts and tools to manage that might improve our chances?”
“Most of the engine damage is external, Jack, and we would have to stop to allow for EVA. It appears that it would also take tools and materials we don't have aboard.” She paused. “But there are some repairs and maintenance that might be possible from within the ship. I'd need to take a better look to be sure. “
“Well, let's get cracking, then.” Jack replied. He got up and went to one of the side cabinets, undogging the latches and taking out the tool kit and Yoofie's “hoofer”. The “hoofer” was the nickname for an HFR unit. Hands Free Remote. He clipped it to the chest of his flight suit and turned it on. “Is it working ok?”
“I have audio and video. Confirmed.” Yoofie's voice replied from the small flat box. “Ready when you are, Jack.”
…
Several hours later, Jack was back on the command deck. He put away the tools and plugged Yoofie's hoofer into it's charge slot in the cabinet. Then he sat down in the pilot's seat and strapped himself in, out of habit, before speaking. “So, did we improve our time at all?” He noted with some satisfaction that it was well after the usual time for third meal, and decided to punch in for a full meal.
“The repairs and adjustments we made to the engine, as well as the reactor tweaks have improved the time estimate by almost a full day.” Yoofie replied.
Jack nodded. He had been hoping for more of a difference, but had worried it might be far less. “Can you put up a display of the estimated jump time on the third panel clock, please? Countdown mode.”
Almost immediately the previously dark clock display came alive. Fifteen days, eighteen hours, forty two minutes. “On your panel now, Commander.” Yoofie said.
“Aye aye, I see it.” Jack replied. At that moment, the dispenser unit chimed. Jack opened the panel and took out a somewhat larger globe of chilled burrberry flavoured liquid nutrient, a transparent disk about five centimeters across and a centimeter thick that would be his burrberry flavoured “dessert”, and the dreaded packet of krunchee-stix. He wished he'd remembered to change the settings on the dispenser, since he usually preferred a warm savoury globe of nutrient for third meal, since he felt it helped him to sleep better.
He flipped open the top of the globe and took a long sip. Deciding to get “dessert” over with quickly, he bit off a bite of the rubbery disk. He knew from experience it was far easier to eat if one washed it down with the “meal” rather than saving it until one was done. “So, Yoofie..” He said between bites, “How are you feeling now?
“Better. Thank you, Jack.” Yoofie replied, her tone sounding slightly more relaxed than it had earlier.
Jack was fully aware that Yoofie was just a conversational interface for the ship's computer, but he also knew that the emotional state of her synthetic personality was somewhat tied to the ship's actual status. The idea, quaint and outmoded as most pilots considered it in this day and age, was that the change of tone of voice would keep the pilot aware of the ship's stats even without telling her to report or looking at the panel. His father had been keen on that selling point, but Jack usually just thought of her as a companion who was just out of his line of sight. It helped to make the long quiet hauls feel a bit less lonely.
“Any activity at all on the comms channels?” He asked.
“We've heard nothing but low level background static since the last fight. But Jack..” She paused for a second before continuing. “You know that is no indication of if there are Thargoids nearby. The only time they've ever been observed to use any type of communication we can receive has been the occasional taunt in fights.”
Jack finished his meal, even the last crumbs of the krunchee-stix and took the cabin lights down to their dimmest setting. He had a fully equipped berth, but like many solo spacers, preferred to sleep in the pilot's seat. He reclined the seat and settled back, hands folded over his chest. “Steady as she goes, wake me in case of any problems.”
“Aye aye, Commander.” After a moment, Yoofie asked, “Shall I resume our current story from the banks, Jack?”
“Yes, please.”
Yoofie started reading aloud in a soft voice that almost blended with the steady drone of the engines, and soon Jack was fast asleep.
…
On the third day of their journey, Jack was jarred awake by the whoop of a warning klaxon and Yoofie's voice. “Off to port, at the edge of scanner range, Commander!”
By the time Jack's eyes were fully open, he'd already set the weapons controls to hot. While the odds of meeting another ship at all this far in interstellar space were so slim as to be incalculable, the odds of it being friendly were even less. There was nothing showing on the scanner by the time he got his eyes open, so he swung them into a slow roll to port, easing back towards the region where the scanner had last detected anything. “Hopefully we can get an ID before they notice us and slip away unseen. Thargoids?”
“It was on the extreme outer range of the scanner, Commander.” Yoofie puased for a second and then continued. “Contact was only for a few seconds. Impossible to identify at this range. It may have been an asteroid.”
Jack nodded and eased back on the stick, and a white blip appeared on the edge of the scanner, now directly in front of them. Jack eased the throttle down to twenty five percent, heading directly towards the blip. “Most likely it's just an asteroid.” He nodded.
As the Sliver edged slowly closer, suddenly the blip went green. Jack frowned and activated the identification console. He adjusted their course until the console announced that an ID lock was established. After a pause several seconds longer than usual, the HUD on the main screen labeled the small dark object in the distance.
“Coriolis Station?” The question mark blinking.
“Yoofie, I've never seen a blinking question mark on that display before.” Jack said, as he slowed the ship to a stop. Even at this distance, he could make out the spinning angles of the station. He tapped the blank screen of his space compass and the aegeis indicator, but they still remained blank.
“That's the secondary identification system, Jack, based on shape analysis.” Yoofie replied. “The question mark indicates that it is not a precise match. Some parameter or parameters do not match the known data in the banks.” She continued. “The secondary identification system comes on when there is no transponder, beacon or known energy signature for the primary ident to use.”
“Let's get in a little closer.” Jack said, nodding grimly. He eased up to fifty percent throttle and the station slowly grew larger on the screen. He eased the throttle back down to a full stop when they were five kilometers away. “Everything is dark.” He observed. “And it has a wider docking slit than usual.”
“Correction, Commander. The docking slit is standard size.” She continued after a brief pause. “The station is twenty seven percent smaller than any known Coriolis type in our data banks.”
“Open a short range hailing frequency, Yoofie.” Jack ordered. “We should be close enough.”
“Affirmative, Commander. On your console now.”
Jack thought for a moment, then pressed the microphone button. “Ahoy the station. This is ensign Jackson Walters of the Galactic Navy. Identify yourself and your business in this space.” That was true enough, since he sometimes flew in the Navy Reserve. If the station turned out to be some covert official outpost, he could explain his use of Naval authority... And if it turned out to be a trap, then it wouldn't matter. He waited a few moments, then repeated the message and waited again.
“No response, Commander.” Yoofie informed him.
Jack nodded, waiting a moment later before taking a deep breath and settling his hands on the Sliver's controls. “We're going in.”
by Ganelon
Derelict by Daniel Bemis, AKA Ganelon, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License. (Ooliters don't need to worry much about the NoDerivs, though I'd like to be asked if anyone ever wants to borrow the characters for another story.)
_______________________
Part 1
He kept the trigger pulled, expecting at any moment to hear the overheating alarm go off and have them cut out on him. Laser shots were ringing ominously off his hull as he rode the injectors in on his target. The Thargoid warship loomed, it's glowing bulk filling the viewscreen as he sped towards it on what could very well turn out to be a collision course.
“It's now or never. Just a little more..” He growled.
Suddenly there was a blinding flash. He looked down below his cockpit's glare shield, blinking rapidly to try and clear his dazzled eyes. He eased off the laser and injectors just as he heard “Weapons system.. overheating.” There was a brief clatter on the hull as his ship cruised through the debris from the warship. A few more laser strikes rang off his hull, then all was silent. Finally his eyes cleared enough to be able to see the scanner clearly. Several blips nearby and to his aft, but they were all white.
“You still there, Yoofie?” He asked as he took his hands of the controls, flexing his right hand to try and relieve the cramped muscles.
“Yes, Jack.”, a female voice responded from the intercom.
“What kind of shape are we in?” He asked as he shut the throttle all the way down and rand his fingers through his sweat-soaked short dark hair.
“No systems reporting as critical, Commander.” Yoofie paused. “Shall I commence full diagnostic checks?”
“Yeah. Probably should.” Jack nodded and after checking the display for the ship's chronometer, he pressed the button on the panel for his long overdue meal. A soft whirring inside the upper starboard console commenced as the dispenser unit started up. A display screen prompted him for flavour choice and he keyed through the selections until he settled on burrberry.
His ship, the Sliver, was making occasional brief sounds and movements as Yoofie checked her out. The synthetic person's proper name was Euphrosyne, but Jack had never called her that and he doubted his father had either. Jack's father had Yoofie installed in an attempt to pacify Jack's mother's jealousy. She had accused the old man of sleeping with every copilot he hired. When the accusations started again even after Jack's father started hiring only male crew members, he'd decided that enough was enough and had the synthetic personality installed.
A soft chime from the dispenser broke Jack's somewhat marred reveries, and he licked his lips hungrily as he undogged the panel and slid it up. He grabbed the chilled sphere and flipped up the attached drinking tube and took a long pull. He started to close the panel, but hesitated, sighed and took out the small ration package of three 'krunchee-stix'.
Jack hated krunchee-stix. They possessed almost no nutritive value, and were for the most part dry, brittle, and almost without flavour. They were part of the rations of basic spacer chow only because the law frowned on purely liquid diets for spacers. Allegedly, they fulfilled some need to bite and chew something, and helped clean teeth and stimulate gums. Most spacers either considered them a sort of penance to be stoically endured or simply thought of them as wretched. But Jack was hungry enough at the moment that they were at least a few additional mouthfuls of something to eat.
“Diagnostic checks complete.” Yoofie announced. “Shall I give the full report or would you prefer just the damage report, Commander?”
“Let's hear just the damage, Yoofie.” Jack swallowed another mouthful of the thick berry flavoured beverage and tore open the package of krunchee-stix.
“No systems are dysfunctional. Engines are at ninety two percent. Rear shield generator is at ninety seven percent. Some hull damage, but it seems to be superficial. All other systems are fully functional. Life support consumable goods are sufficient for at least several days, medical supplies are all fully stocked.” She paused. “If I may say so, Commander, I believe your father would have said 'Good shooting, Tex.'”
Jack nodded and chuckled. “Yeah, he probably would have. Right now, though, it's time to take care of business and get out of here. As soon as we make station, I'm for a radiant bath and a steak!”
He took the controls and brought the ship around, finding and identifying each of the white blips. Having confirmed that they were five Thargoid robot combat drones, he turned to his cargo screen. He jettisoned five tons of liquor to make space in the cargo bay, and then carefully scooped up the inert drones.
“Well, it's a shame to dump good booze, but we can get more for these Thargons, eh, Yoofie?”
“Affirmative, Commander.” She replied.
“Let's point our nose to home”, Jack said, reaching out and thumbing the cover off the jump control and pressing the button.
“Jump failed. Insufficient fuel for your jump.” came the calm recorded voice from the console as “Insufficient fuel for witchspace jump” came up on the status screen.
“No!” Jack shouted. Then he sat for a moment with his head in his hands, shaking his head.. “Nonononono...”
Finally he looked up and called up the navigational map, but it only confirmed what he already knew. “One point three units of fuel short. Guess I should have been keeping a closer watch on the fuel when I was riding the injectors, Yoof.”
“Affirmative, Commander.” She replied.
“Well...” He shrugged. “Guess we'll have to take a few hours break in our busy schedule to cruise and let the fuel collector top up the tank before we can be homeward bound.”
“Negative, Commander.”
“Huh?” Jack paused with his hands already on the controls.
“Fuel collection is slower in interstellar space, due to the lack of proximity of stars or leakage from other ships.” Yoofie's synthetic voice sounded unusually tenative. “Calculating.”
Jack waited.
“Calculation complete. At eighty seven percent speed, it will take approximately seventeen standard days to collect sufficient fuel to jump to the nearest station.”
“Why wouldn't we be running at full speed?” Jack asked.
“Engines are somewhat damaged. Running at full speed would give an estimated eighty percent chance of failure before sufficient fuel can be collected for the jump.” Yoofie paused. “Sorry, Jack.”
“Well, I suppose we'd better have a look at it then. EVI drone ready, Yoofie?”
“Ready and on your console, Commander.” Yoofie replied.
Jack nodded and hit the EVI button. A moment later, the main screen switched to the Extra-Vehicular Inspection drone that had been deployed and was now off the port side of the ship. Jack looked over the damage briefly and then hit the EVI control again, and then again, causing the small drone to swoop to a different external view of the ship. When he got to the starboard view, Jack winced slightly. The Thargoid lasers had scored a path right through the blue cobra logo.
It had been a while since that logo had been common. The Sliver was an older ship. An early model of Aegidian Shipyards' “chopped Cobra”, properly called a Cobra Mark 3.5, but it was better to just call her a chopped Cobra around The Cobra MKIII crowd. The first and only ship that Jack's father had bought brand new, and the only ship Jack had ever owned. She was a bit sleeker than a standard Cobra, a bit faster, and a bit less cargo bay. The Sliver was a good little fighter, though, and Jack knew how to use her tight turn radius to his advantage in a dogfight. Jack sometimes dreamed of upgrading to a new Python, with a big cargo bay, so he could make some real credits or maybe even a Boa. He knew that if he ever did change ships, he would miss the swift nimbleness of the Sliver, though. He made as many credits bounty hunting as he did trading, unlike his father.
He cycled the drone back to the aft position for another look at the engines. “Well, at least it doesn't look too bad.”
“The damage is superficial, except for here..” Yoofie placed a blinking red dot on one spot of the display. “That hit got us right on the edge of the housing for the focusing bell. The damage itself is minor, but it's keeping us from going to full throttle without it overheating and risking full failure.”
Jack nodded, thinking. “What bearing to aim our nose to home, Yoofie?”
“The heading won't matter for the jump, Jack.”
Jack nodded. “I know, but it's a point of morale. I'll feel better if I think of us as being on our way home.” He paused. “How much food do I have?”
“Six days at standard rations.” Yoofie replied.
Jack nodded. Water was no problem, the Sliver had a recycler for that. But since he rarely did trade runs that needed more than a few days, neither Jack nor his father had ever felt it necessary to put in one for food. Jack rarely was more than a day out of some station or other stop, and so he didn't even keep the dispenser console topped up, only refilling it when it actually ran out of either nutrient or flavouring. “I'll have to go light on rations, then. By the end of seventeen days, it's likely to be getting pretty hungry around here.”
“Seventeen days is strictly an estimate, Jack. If we are lucky, we may run across a section of space that is a bit richer in fuel per cubic kilometer, and that could take days off that number.” Yoofie said in a hopeful tone.
“But doesn't that also mean it could take us considerably longer to collect enough fuel to jump?” Jack asked.
After a brief pause, she replied, “Affirmative.”
Jack nodded. “Well, we'll just have to see how she goes. Can we plot that bearing so we're at least aimed towards home?”
“Affirmative, Commander.” She replied. A navigational dial came up on one of the auxiliary display screens. “From our current position, zed three two degrees, five minutes, six decimal one seconds starboard. Negative zed four seven degrees, twenty minutes, forty seven decimal eight seconds pitch.”
“Roger Dodger!” Jack replied brightly, bringing the ship around and setting the throttle to eighty seven percent. The engines thrummed and the “pull” from the acceleration came and eased off as the Sliver came up to speed. “I'm off to the refreshener, Yoofie. Alert me if we get anything in proximity. Don't wait for it to go red.”
“Aye aye, Commander.” Yoofie replied as Jack unstrapped himself from the cockpit seat and headed for the ladderway down to the crew berths and his quarters.
Once inside the Commander's quarters, Jack stripped off his flight suit and tossed it into the bin and headed immediately to the refreshener. He hit the switches to activate it and undogged the latches as he waited for the ready lights. Shortly the lights came on and the door in the side of the vertical tube slid open. Jack stepped in and thumbed the switch to close, then start the machine. A fine tepid mist of droplets came first from above and then from below, alternating every few seconds. Jack wished it was a nice radiant tub or, better yet, a real hot water bath on dirtside. But small ships had rather conservative facilities, and something nicer would have to wait until they could make station. The water mist had the same blandly chemical scent as the drinking water, but at least it was better than his own sweat.
Jack ran a hand across his chin and upper lip, feeling the stubble. He briefly considered trying to shave, but since he usually had a barber at whatever station he stopped at every couple of days shave him, he decided against risking it right now. He let the refreshener run until it finally timed out, then thumbed the switch for the drying button, spending the next couple of minutes letting the warm air pass over him. Finally it stopped as well and the panel slid back as he pressed the exit button. He re-dogged the latches on the refreshener tube, since it was an old model, and that had to be done to keep it from leaking during accelerations. He dressed in a fresh flight suit and headed back up to the command deck.
“How are we doing?” He asked as he resumed his place in the lone pilot's seat.
“No proximities detected. All systems are fully operational except for those already noted otherwise.” Yoofie replied. “How are you feeling, Jack?”
“Better.” He nodded. “Much better. Now, I had a thought while getting cleaned up. I took the required classes on basic repairs and maintenance back in flight school. Are there any repairs we have the parts and tools to manage that might improve our chances?”
“Most of the engine damage is external, Jack, and we would have to stop to allow for EVA. It appears that it would also take tools and materials we don't have aboard.” She paused. “But there are some repairs and maintenance that might be possible from within the ship. I'd need to take a better look to be sure. “
“Well, let's get cracking, then.” Jack replied. He got up and went to one of the side cabinets, undogging the latches and taking out the tool kit and Yoofie's “hoofer”. The “hoofer” was the nickname for an HFR unit. Hands Free Remote. He clipped it to the chest of his flight suit and turned it on. “Is it working ok?”
“I have audio and video. Confirmed.” Yoofie's voice replied from the small flat box. “Ready when you are, Jack.”
…
Several hours later, Jack was back on the command deck. He put away the tools and plugged Yoofie's hoofer into it's charge slot in the cabinet. Then he sat down in the pilot's seat and strapped himself in, out of habit, before speaking. “So, did we improve our time at all?” He noted with some satisfaction that it was well after the usual time for third meal, and decided to punch in for a full meal.
“The repairs and adjustments we made to the engine, as well as the reactor tweaks have improved the time estimate by almost a full day.” Yoofie replied.
Jack nodded. He had been hoping for more of a difference, but had worried it might be far less. “Can you put up a display of the estimated jump time on the third panel clock, please? Countdown mode.”
Almost immediately the previously dark clock display came alive. Fifteen days, eighteen hours, forty two minutes. “On your panel now, Commander.” Yoofie said.
“Aye aye, I see it.” Jack replied. At that moment, the dispenser unit chimed. Jack opened the panel and took out a somewhat larger globe of chilled burrberry flavoured liquid nutrient, a transparent disk about five centimeters across and a centimeter thick that would be his burrberry flavoured “dessert”, and the dreaded packet of krunchee-stix. He wished he'd remembered to change the settings on the dispenser, since he usually preferred a warm savoury globe of nutrient for third meal, since he felt it helped him to sleep better.
He flipped open the top of the globe and took a long sip. Deciding to get “dessert” over with quickly, he bit off a bite of the rubbery disk. He knew from experience it was far easier to eat if one washed it down with the “meal” rather than saving it until one was done. “So, Yoofie..” He said between bites, “How are you feeling now?
“Better. Thank you, Jack.” Yoofie replied, her tone sounding slightly more relaxed than it had earlier.
Jack was fully aware that Yoofie was just a conversational interface for the ship's computer, but he also knew that the emotional state of her synthetic personality was somewhat tied to the ship's actual status. The idea, quaint and outmoded as most pilots considered it in this day and age, was that the change of tone of voice would keep the pilot aware of the ship's stats even without telling her to report or looking at the panel. His father had been keen on that selling point, but Jack usually just thought of her as a companion who was just out of his line of sight. It helped to make the long quiet hauls feel a bit less lonely.
“Any activity at all on the comms channels?” He asked.
“We've heard nothing but low level background static since the last fight. But Jack..” She paused for a second before continuing. “You know that is no indication of if there are Thargoids nearby. The only time they've ever been observed to use any type of communication we can receive has been the occasional taunt in fights.”
Jack finished his meal, even the last crumbs of the krunchee-stix and took the cabin lights down to their dimmest setting. He had a fully equipped berth, but like many solo spacers, preferred to sleep in the pilot's seat. He reclined the seat and settled back, hands folded over his chest. “Steady as she goes, wake me in case of any problems.”
“Aye aye, Commander.” After a moment, Yoofie asked, “Shall I resume our current story from the banks, Jack?”
“Yes, please.”
Yoofie started reading aloud in a soft voice that almost blended with the steady drone of the engines, and soon Jack was fast asleep.
…
On the third day of their journey, Jack was jarred awake by the whoop of a warning klaxon and Yoofie's voice. “Off to port, at the edge of scanner range, Commander!”
By the time Jack's eyes were fully open, he'd already set the weapons controls to hot. While the odds of meeting another ship at all this far in interstellar space were so slim as to be incalculable, the odds of it being friendly were even less. There was nothing showing on the scanner by the time he got his eyes open, so he swung them into a slow roll to port, easing back towards the region where the scanner had last detected anything. “Hopefully we can get an ID before they notice us and slip away unseen. Thargoids?”
“It was on the extreme outer range of the scanner, Commander.” Yoofie puased for a second and then continued. “Contact was only for a few seconds. Impossible to identify at this range. It may have been an asteroid.”
Jack nodded and eased back on the stick, and a white blip appeared on the edge of the scanner, now directly in front of them. Jack eased the throttle down to twenty five percent, heading directly towards the blip. “Most likely it's just an asteroid.” He nodded.
As the Sliver edged slowly closer, suddenly the blip went green. Jack frowned and activated the identification console. He adjusted their course until the console announced that an ID lock was established. After a pause several seconds longer than usual, the HUD on the main screen labeled the small dark object in the distance.
“Coriolis Station?” The question mark blinking.
“Yoofie, I've never seen a blinking question mark on that display before.” Jack said, as he slowed the ship to a stop. Even at this distance, he could make out the spinning angles of the station. He tapped the blank screen of his space compass and the aegeis indicator, but they still remained blank.
“That's the secondary identification system, Jack, based on shape analysis.” Yoofie replied. “The question mark indicates that it is not a precise match. Some parameter or parameters do not match the known data in the banks.” She continued. “The secondary identification system comes on when there is no transponder, beacon or known energy signature for the primary ident to use.”
“Let's get in a little closer.” Jack said, nodding grimly. He eased up to fifty percent throttle and the station slowly grew larger on the screen. He eased the throttle back down to a full stop when they were five kilometers away. “Everything is dark.” He observed. “And it has a wider docking slit than usual.”
“Correction, Commander. The docking slit is standard size.” She continued after a brief pause. “The station is twenty seven percent smaller than any known Coriolis type in our data banks.”
“Open a short range hailing frequency, Yoofie.” Jack ordered. “We should be close enough.”
“Affirmative, Commander. On your console now.”
Jack thought for a moment, then pressed the microphone button. “Ahoy the station. This is ensign Jackson Walters of the Galactic Navy. Identify yourself and your business in this space.” That was true enough, since he sometimes flew in the Navy Reserve. If the station turned out to be some covert official outpost, he could explain his use of Naval authority... And if it turned out to be a trap, then it wouldn't matter. He waited a few moments, then repeated the message and waited again.
“No response, Commander.” Yoofie informed him.
Jack nodded, waiting a moment later before taking a deep breath and settling his hands on the Sliver's controls. “We're going in.”
