Flagship (A Captain's Crucible #1) (5 page)

If I requested approval for everything I did,
Jonathan wanted to say.
I'd never get anything done.
Instead: "Send this response: We've found the
Selene
. It appears abandoned. We're proceeding to investigate. Captain out." He turned toward the ops officer. "Have you been able to interface with the
Selene's
AI via the remote override protocol?"

"No."

"Do you need my command codes?"

"Normally I would," the ensign answered. "But the AI isn't responding. In fact, nothing is—the whole system appears to be offline."

Jonathan tapped his lips with that finger triad of his. "Can you tell if any of the lifepods have been launched yet?"

"The readings are blurred somewhat by the radiation," the ensign said. "But it looks like no, none of them were launched."

"I have my team assembled in hangar bay one," Robert's voice came over the aReal. "We're suited up inside a fully-fueled Dragonfly. Waiting on your order to transit to the
Selene
."

"All ships are at safe escort distances," the ensign informed the captain.

Jonathan glanced at the tactical display on his aReal and confirmed the ensign's words.

"You're cleared for launch, Commander," Jonathan said.

Robert waited impatiently as the Dragonfly crossed the four kilometer span of space separating the two vessels. He did his best to ignore the stomach-churning feeling zero-G always inflicted on him: shuttles were equipped with inertial compensators but not artificial gravity. That fact always bothered him, because it seemed to Robert that it should be a simple matter to extend the inertial dampening to provide the feeling of gravity, but the scientists always assured him there was more to it than that.

The two MOTHs tapped their feet with nervous energy, obviously excited by the mission. The elite special forces soldiers usually had nothing to do but hang out at the gym all day, that and practice their war games in the ship's virtual kill house. They had to pass the time somehow, since the navy mandated a small MOTH presence aboard every ship. Well, they did help the masters-at-arms (MAs) provide security, too, taking on patrols and watches as necessary, though Robert was sure MOTHs considered such duties beneath them. 

Their specialized jumpsuits were substantially bulkier than the spacesuits the other party members wore, containing an exoskeleton that augmented the speed and strength of each soldier to near robotic levels. Or so he had been told.

The shuttle rolled, tilting the view of the
Selene
beyond the main window. Robert felt suddenly nauseous. Throwing up in a space suit was a bad idea, as there was a chance the vomit could clog the air regulators. He wasn't worried so much about that, but more-so the effect it would have on the away team's opinion of him. Pride simply wouldn't let him throw up.

He pressed his lips against the nozzle below his mouth and took several sips of water.

The science officer had no such qualms about throwing up apparently, because he vomited right there in his helmet, splattering the lower part of the glass plate.

Robert checked the man's status on his aReal. Life signs were within normal parameters and his breathing apparatus was unaffected by the vomit.

"Are you all right?" Robert asked him.

"Fine," the science officer said after a moment. "Just a little... queasy is all." He threw up again.

One of the MOTHs laughed.

Robert gave the man a withering look and the soldier quickly straightened.

"Sorry sir," the petty officer second class said.

"Laugh again," Robert told him. "And you're the one who's going to be cleaning his suit."

"Understood, sir," the soldier said.

MOTHs were hard men, and the best way to deal with them was to treat them mercilessly. They would expect as much because of their military training. Anything less would be viewed as a sign of weakness.

The shuttle arrived at the
Selene's
external hangar doors. The craft hovered alongside, matching the speed of the drifting vessel.

Several uneventful moments passed.

"Is there a problem, Pilot?" Robert said over the comm.

"I can't find the bay doors on the device list," the pilot said. "Nor any other ship systems for that matter. If I can't connect, I can't issue an override request."

"Let me try." Robert pulled up the list of remotely accessible devices on his aReal. They were all devices local to the shuttle, sorted by range from his person, such as the airlock and nav controls, along with a few systems from the
Callaway
that were still cached. Robert focused on the refresh button and the HUD updated with the message:

Searching for interfaces...

The display refreshed, showing the same local devices as before, minus most of the
Callaway's
devices. There were none from the
Selene
itself.

"Looks like we're going to have to dock the old fashioned way," Robert said. "Pilot, find the nearest airlock hatch."

The pilot directed the Dragonfly along the hull until he found what he was looking for, then he had the autopilot magnetically secure the shuttle to the research vessel.

"Attachment complete," the pilot announced. "Whenever you're ready, Commander."

"Let's go, men." Robert pushed off from the bulkhead and floated across to the shuttle's internal hatch.

The commanding MOTH, one Chief Rade Galaal, beat him to it. The soldier reached out to open the hatch, but glanced at Robert for confirmation first.

Robert nodded.

Rade opened it. There was no explosive decompression as the shuttle had no atmosphere.

Robert stood in front of the
Selene's
external hatch.

"Shall I get the laser cutter?" Rade asked.

"Let me try the command overrides, first." Robert knelt beside the small control panel that lay at the center of the hatch. It contained a keypad.

He attempted a remote connection one more time, but again no cloud devices showed up in the access list, despite the fact he was standing right next to the panel.

He retrieved an extension cord from his utility belt and plugged it into the provided slot.

His HUD displayed a message:

Searching for interfaces...

The device list updated. At the top, under the heading
Selene
, there was a new entry:
External hatch 2-135-18-H
.

Good. Power was still active to vital systems aboard the
Selene
, then.

He entered his manual override code.

"Prepare for retinal scan," his aReal informed him.

The panel scanned his retina through the face plate.

A moment later the entry hatch shuddered and collapsed inward a few inches. Robert disconnected the cord as the hatch slowly moved aside.

The airlock was dim beyond, lit only by emergency lights.

"Helmet lamps on, people," Robert said, activating his own. "Lead the way, Chief."

Rade turned on his helmet lamp and pulled himself into the external airlock, keeping the soles of his boots pointed downward. The moment he crossed the threshold between the shuttle and the ship, the soldier was pulled to the deck, his boots landing soundlessly. He gave Robert a significant glance.

"Artificial gravity is still active, people," Robert said into the comm. "Watch yourselves when crossing."

He let the MOTH petty officer enter next, and the two combat robots after him. The featureless metallic faces of the M-4 Centurions reminded Robert that the robots would kill mercilessly, without emotion. He wasn't so sure the MOTHs would behave any differently.

Robert hauled himself in after them, letting the artificial gravity drop him rather forcefully to the deck.

The guest connection area of his aReal lit up. Curious, Robert checked who was accessing his feed: very few people had the clearance. Not surprisingly, it was the captain. The wireless signal would pass between Robert's aReal and the communication node of the shuttle, then onward to the ship. Signal reception was good at the current range—the HUD pegged the lag at four seconds.

Robert flattened himself against the bulkhead as the final two party members entered. It was a tight fit in there.

When everyone was inside, Robert accessed the inner control panel the same way and issued a manual override, using his command codes to seal the hatch and pressurize the airlock to match the inner environment. When that was done, the inner hatch spiraled open.

"Centurions, go!" Rade said.

The two humanoid combat robots rushed into the dark passageway beyond, AR-52 plasma rifles at the ready.

The two MOTHs joined the Centurions a moment later, also sporting ARs.

"Clear," Rade transmitted.

Robert stepped inside; the science officer and engineer joined him.

He stood in a darkened passageway that was very much akin to those found aboard the
Callaway
. Like the airlock, it was illuminated only by emergency LEDs. The conical beams from their helmet lamps cut swathes through the murk.

"Life support systems are only partially active," the science officer said. He held a scanning device that he'd retrieved from his utility belt. "The crew compartments are still pressurized, and the air is still breathable. But it's cold, and getting colder by the minute. Currently plus three degrees above freezing."

"That's still relatively warm compared to deep space," Robert said. "I'm surprised the thermals readings were so low on her hull."

"Some ships get that way when their engines shut down," the engineer explained. The aReal labeled him Specialist Second Class Pierson.

"Any signs of contagions in the air?" Robert said.

The science officer, one Hayley O'Rielly, extended a scanning device. "Seems fine."

Robert removed his helmet. His face felt slightly chilly without his own respirations reflecting back onto him, but the insulation layer still shrouding his head and neck more than made up for the sensation—he might as well have been wearing a winter cap and scarf.

The air smelled stale and musty. "Circulators aren't operating," Robert noted.

He secured the helmet to his utility belt and detached the lamp, holding it like a flashlight. The engineer opted to remove his own helmet but the science officer and MOTHs kept theirs on. Robert's earpiece ensured he would still hear the latter individuals.

The soldiers launched two small, battery-powered surveillance drones, called HS4s. These were rotor-based quadcopters, meant for operation in atmospheres. When dispatched to planetary surfaces, an energy harvesting mode allowed the drones to collect power from updraft regions via regenerative braking; that, combined with solar panels further boosted the battery capacities to near infinite levels, barring heavy cloud cover or extended dark side operation. Under shipboard conditions the batteries would still last several hours, of course.

The drones vanished down the passageway to search for survivors.

The party advanced. Rade led the way, with the two combat robots directly in front of him. The MOTH petty officer brought up the rear.

With his aReal, Robert attempted to connect to the local Li-Fi network, which should have been available through the emergency LEDs, but it proved inactive.

"Anyone else able to connect to the Li-Fi?" Robert said.

He was greeted by a chorus of negative replies.

Robert glanced at the map displayed in the upper right of his HUD. He had downloaded the vessel blueprints before coming aboard, and the current position of each party member was shown as a blue dot on that map. The blueprint scrolled with each step Robert took, ensuring that his dot always remained in the center.

When the group reached an intersection, the engineer spoke up.

"According to the schematics, engineering is this way." Pierson nodded toward the left passageway. "Four decks down, five frames aft."

"Where are the HS4s?" Robert asked Rade.

"Currently en route to the bridge," the chief answered. "I can have them turn back and scout this way instead."

"That's fine," Robert said. "Have they found anyone, or spotted anything unusual, yet?"

"No, Commander."

"Lead the way." Robert beckoned toward the left passageway.

Rade directed the Centurions into the passage and the group followed after them.

Four decks down, roughly twenty meters from engineering, Rade and his two combat robots paused. "Commander."

Robert joined him.

The soldier pointed out blaster burns and melted metal on the bulkhead. "Judging from the placement and direction of the damage, I'd guess the blaster fire came from engineering. The damage profile is typical of the sidearms issued to security personnel aboard such a research vessel."

Robert glanced down the passageway toward engineering. There were several more scars along the bulkhead.

"The HS4s are reporting similar scarring on the bridge," Rade said.

Robert withdrew the pistol from his belt, a standard issue plasma blaster.

"Chief?" Robert said.

The MOTH and two Centurions led them onward.

The party paused by the entrance to engineering. A perfect circle had been cut into the hatch. The surrounding metal exhibited no sign of the melting that would be typical of a laser torch. It was as if the molecules in the center of the door had simply lost cohesion and dispersed.

The science officer scanned the opening. "Atomized."

"Does the United Systems have any technology that could do this?" Robert asked him.

Hayley pressed his lips together. "No, but I've heard rumors the SKs have experimented with miniaturized particle accelerators."

"We've all heard a lot of rumors about the Sino-Koreans," Robert said. "Most of which are false."

Robert studied the opening a moment. It was large enough for the party members to squeeze through, one at a time, even the MOTHs in their bulkier suits. He beckoned toward the elite soldiers.

Rade ordered the combat robots inside.