"Yes, sir. Good luck, sir."
Paul exited Combat as fast he could, thinking as he went that he needed luck a lot less than the crew of the
Maury
did. Partway to the gig, the maneuvering alarm sounded and Paul managed to snap onto a tie-down just before the
Michaelson
lurched and swung in response to her thrusters.
Getting closer to the
Maury
. Probably not all that close. There's got to be lots of junk still floating around her. And lots of stuff that could still explode, like Chief Imari said
. Paul felt another inner chill.
Did
Maury'
s fuel vent from all the ruptured tanks and lines? What happens to us if it blows while we're there
? He tried to remember if the cloud of gases had included vaporized fuel, how dense a free-floating cloud of fuel would have to be to ignite, but his mind wouldn't focus on the calculations.
The push of the thrusters halted, followed by an "all-clear" announcement. Paul unhooked and hastened the rest of the way to the gig.
The area around the gig was a mess. Too many sailors, bulkier than usual thanks to their survival suits, along with portable damage control equipment of every description crowded into the space near the gig. Paul pushed through until he was close to the gig, where Lieutenant Kilgary and Commander Destin were organizing the rescue effort. "Lieutenant Sinclair, reporting in."
Destin nodded absently. Colleen Kilgary gave Paul a quick look, all business. "Paul, you'll be in charge of Damage Control Team Two."
"DC Team Two. Roger."
"I'll be in charge of DC Team One and the overall effort. Have you seen Sonya?"
"No, I—"
Lieutenant Sindh pushed up next to Paul. "Here. I assume I have command of DC Team Three?"
Kilgary nodded rapidly. "Right. Commander Destin and I are going to supervise loading everybody and everything into the gig. Try to sort out your people."
Sindh nodded back. "I'll move my team toward the aft bulkhead."
Paul checked his suit display, where a list of names had appeared, then activated the communications circuit designated for his team. "All personnel in DC Team Two, this is Lieutenant Sinclair. I want you up against the forward bulkhead." Sailors began moving as Paul's and the other damage control teams started sorting themselves out, the tightly packed crowd breaking into those moving forward, those moving aft, and those trying to reach the center. More quickly than Paul would've expected, the three groups formed up in their designated positions.
No horseplay or delaying. Everybody knows the guys on the
Maury
need us
.
Chief Meyer sketched a quick salute. "Team Two ready, sir."
"Thanks, Chief."
Meyer's from engineering. Lieutenant Kilgary's division. He ought to be real nice to have along
.
"Any idea what things are like over there, sir?"
"Bad." The sailors in Team Two shifted uneasily at Paul's single word reply. "I just got a quick visual look, but
Maury
looked real torn up from just aft of amidships."
Meyer nodded slowly. "Engineering spaces."
Paul felt the hollow space in his gut again.
Jen
. "Yes."
"How torn up, sir?"
"I don't know, Chief. We'll know when we get there."
"Yes, sir." Paul watched Chief Meyer stare toward the gig.
Engineering's a fairly insular community. Odds are Meyer knows a lot of people in
Maury
's engineering department. How many of them are still alive
? He shied away from the question, wishing he could somehow banish it from his mind.
Team One shuffled forward as Commander Destin and Lieutenant Kilgary directed them to positions in the gig. Paul brought his own team up behind them, waiting until Kilgary pointed his way. "Your turn. Make sure your people pack in tight."
"Aye, aye. Team Two, I want everyone up close and personal in that gig."
A muttering of acknowledgements followed, along with a few cracks. "Sir, can I have a window seat?" "Sir, can I get up close and personal with Petty Officer Velos?"
Velos craned her head to look at whoever had spoken. "In your dreams, Gino."
Chief Meyer glared at the sailors. "Zip it. I don't want nothing else said that ain't mission essential. Understand?" He faced Paul and shrugged. "They're nervous, Mr. Sinclair."
"I understand, Chief. Just between you and me, so am I."
"I guess that makes it unanimous, sir."
The inside of the gig had never felt expansive to Paul anyway. With thirty-some sailors in survival suits and all the damage control gear they could carry being shoved inside, it felt like a king-sized can of sardines. Paul let Chief Meyer go first, then followed the last of his team in and pushed up against those already in place. Whoever Petty Officer Velos' admirer happened to be, he was probably pretty disappointed at the moment, since the survival suits let you feel nothing but the bare outlines of the shapes you were up against and in the press of bodies any motion with arms or legs was out of the question.
Lieutenant Kilgary came last, shaking her head. "We're breaking a few safety regulations doing this, people, but there's no doubt the
Maury
needs us and needs us fast.
Nobody panic
." She wedged herself in and cycled the gig's hatch shut.
Paul immediately understood Kilgary's last instruction. With the hatch closed, the gig's packed interior felt dangerously claustrophobic. Somehow the lighting also felt dim, perhaps because some of the internal lights were covered by sailors or equipment, which only contributed to the feeling of being crowded into too small a space. But no one panicked, at least not openly, as a series of bumps, jars and lurches marked the gig's lifting from its cradle. An unbearably long period, perhaps a minute, passed before the gig's main drive lit off. The sailors near the rear groaned as the mass of their companions pressed against them. "Take it easy!" Lieutenant Sindh called out. She was back there with her sailors, feeling everything they felt, and her presence kept any of them from being overwhelmed by the mental and physical pressure.
Paul chafed at the unfamiliar sensation of literally being in the dark. As an officer, he was used to be able to see situations.
But, then, I probably don't want to see the
Maury
until I have to. How bad is the damage? How many of her crew died
? That question again, the one he couldn't avoid thinking about.
"On final approach to the
Maury
," the gig's conning officer announced over the officers' command circuit. "Do you still want me directly amidships, Lieutenant Kilgary?"
"Affirmative." Kilgary's voice was almost that of a stranger, cold and controlled. "As close as you can get us."
"It's pretty ugly out there, Lieutenant. Lots of junk drifting loose."
"Don't risk the gig. We can jump to the
Maury
."
Paul felt grateful he was surrounded too tightly by sailors to be able to shiver. The survival suits had a limited self-maneuvering capability and he'd jumped through space as part of his training. But he remembered the endless dark all around, the sense of falling forever with nothing to grab onto, the feeling that if he missed his objective he'd just keep falling and falling until his suit's power and air gave out.
The gig lurched a few more times. Paul felt torn between dread at leaving the gig and a growing sense of urgency.
Let's get going, dammit
!
A moment later, the gig's conning officer called again. "That's as close as I want to risk it, Lieutenant Kilgary. I've got the gig's main hatch lined up with the
Maury
."
"Roger. I'm popping the hatch now." The hatch surface receded, then Lieutenant Kilgary pushed herself out, holding onto the inside with one hand while she looked around. "Mary, mother of God. Paul, Sonya, it's worse than I thought. The
Maury
's amidships is totally devastated. Both main engineering compartments definitely blew."
"Can you see survivors?" Lieutenant Sindh asked.
"No. I don't expect to, either. Not in this area." Paul heard a hiss as Kilgary drew in a breath. "It looks to me like everyone in engineering must have been wiped out."
I didn't hear it. I didn't hear it. I don't know what's happened to Jen. I won't know for a while. Just do my job. Think about that. Only that. There are people depending on me
.
"I'm going to take Team One in deep amidships, try to assess internal damage and find out if anything or anybody's left. Paul, Team Two goes forward. Sonya, Team Three goes aft. It looks to me like the survival bulkheads held, so we want to strengthen and seal them. Find weak points and get them reinforced. Plug holes. You know the drill."
Paul and Lieutenant Sindh answered up simultaneously. "Aye, aye, ma'am." Lieutenant Kilgary wasn't Colleen to them right now, she was the officer in charge.
"Look for air-tight boundaries. Anyone in the forward or after sections will be trying to maintain the integrity of those compartments. If you find a working internal airlock, send someone through to make contact. We have to know what shape the
Maury
's remaining crew is in. Any questions? Okay, I'm launching. I want everybody to follow, one by one. Keep your spacing."
Kilgary lined herself up on something Paul couldn't see, braced herself, then pushed off. The gig bobbled slightly in reaction, then the first sailor in Team One was at the hatch, raising fingers one by one as he counted to five before pushing off in turn. As more sailors left, the gig's maneuvering thrusters began firing in quick bursts, compensating for the reactions created by the sailors shoving off against the hatch.
Paul shuffled forward, getting only glimpses of the
Maury
until he reached the hatch. Once he got his first clear view, Paul gasped, staring at the damage. His first impression, that something had taken bites out of the
Maury
, was replaced by an image of monsters inside the
Maury
who'd burst out, shattering everything around them. Where the engineering compartments should've been there were instead a couple of irregular areas in which everything had been blasted outward and away. Surrounding those cleared areas were sections where the blasts had torn and smashed their way along the lines of least resistance, leaving a tangle of wreckage in their wake. The masses of wreckage gave way to either open space or disappeared in the shadows created by the still intact portions of the
Maury
.
The last member of Team One leaped across the gap, his shape dwindling rapidly toward an area where Lieutenant Kilgary had gathered the rest of her team. Paul aimed for a point closer toward the
Maury
's bow, where he could see the remains of a compartment that seemed to offer a decent landing area.
Okay. You've done this. Remember the drill. Line up your body. Both feet set firm. Push off evenly with both legs so you don't go off to one side. Don't push too hard because you'll reach your objective at that same speed. Keep your eyes on your landing spot. Ready. Go
. He aimed and jumped, pushing off just as he'd learned during his training, not putting too much force into the effort, trying not to think about the infinite emptiness he'd just hurled himself into.
There wasn't anything under him, or above him, or to either side. Just the endless dark, lit with trillions of sparks of light. If Paul looked in those directions, he felt as if he might have been motionless, unable to judge his own movement against the incredibly distant stars. Part of his mind marveled at that. Both the
Maury
and the
Michaelson
's gig were traveling through space at speed measured in kilometers per second, yet Paul felt none of that since he was moving at the same speed and there was no air resistance, gravity or friction to slow him relative to the ships. He felt tempted to look back toward the gig, but remembered the warning not to take his eyes off his target. More than one jumper had slammed painfully into a target they'd forgotten to watch. But as he did look directly at the target, Paul felt like he was falling onto it. It took a determined effort to focus on the fact that his body wasn't accelerating under gravity's pull as it would in a fall, but was moving at a steady pace even though his Earth-bound experience kept insisting that couldn't be happening.
Despite his concentration on his target, the ruined compartment on the
Maury
grew in size with shocking speed as Paul got close. Paul swung his feet forward and took the impact with flexed legs. He could almost hear an instructor grunting out a reluctant "not bad" as he grabbed hold of the nearest object, in this case a section of electrical conduit swinging free on one end. The friction pads built into the survival suit gloves held firmly onto the conduit's smooth surface. Paul tested his stability, then looked up just as the first sailor on his team came flying into the compartment only about a meter from him.
Blast it. I should've remembered to get clear of the landing spot
. Paul swung off to one side, motioning the sailor to clear the area as well.
More sailors came sailing into the ruined compartment, landing with varying degrees of force and grace. Last came Chief Meyer, grunting as he landed. "Where to, sir?"
Paul looked around, trying to judge where best to go. "Our orders are to proceed to the survival bulkhead forward of the damage. Let's move toward the
Maury
's bow."
"Yes, sir. Spread out or stay together?"
Tough question. Spreading out would let them learn more, faster. But also separate them in an environment rendered unknowable by the damage the
Maury
had sustained. "Together. There's no telling what's blocked up ahead. I'd rather not have some of the team cut off from the rest of us."
They moved through the compartments, roughly along the line where the
Maury
's outer hull had been. Segments of the inner hull, unmistakable with their hollow, honeycomb shapes, still clung to structural members or were bent back by the force of the blast. Wires and fiber optic cables drifted across his path, while clouds of fragmented insulation and other materials floated amid the wreckage. A large piece of warped metal that might have once been a control console in engineering had been wedged across their path, requiring the team to traverse some of the rougher areas. Paul reached for a pale, white object for his next hold, then stopped in mid-reach.
It's an arm
. The limb, naked against space, protruded from a crushed compartment.
Is somebody still attached? I can't find out now. Not that I want to find out at all
. He reached elsewhere. "Watch out for human remains." Somehow, Paul's voice didn't shake.