Into the Black: Odyssey One (6 page)

*****

Back on the ship’s command deck, Weston gave each officer an appraising look, trying to determine their stress levels. A few minutes later, Weston was satisfied that his command staff was up to the task, even Waters seemed well recovered from his earlier state.

“We are a go in three minutes,” the navigation officer didn’t glance up from his instruments as he configured the course corrections.

“Engage transition drive when ready.”

“Aye Sir.”

Seconds ticked down as the Odyssey pulled itself clear of the stars gravity well, reaching for deep space as its massive reactors charged the tachyon transition system. Captain Weston found himself involuntarily gripping the arms of his chair as the countdown started at one minute; he imagined that the rest of the crew felt pretty much the same. Transitional space was hardly a vacation.

“Engaging transition now,” Lt Daniels said, sounding almost fearful.

Outside, the nightmare replayed across the ship, as the great vessel transitioned out of dimensional space and was flung across time and space by the ship’s huge transition engines. Weston’s thoughts again echoed infinitely through his awareness, locked in time and mind by the big ship’s passage through the universe, I
sure hope this gets easier with practice.

Chapter 4

It just wasn’t going to get any easier.

The Odyssey re-entered dimensional space and the first thing anybody was conscious of were the automatic alarms blaring.

“Sensors! What’s going on?” Weston barely finished his sentence when the vessel rocked violently, forcing him to hold tightly to the command chair.

“Debris field, Sir! Shouldn’t be here, though!” Waters replacement, Ensign Bremen, muttered fearfully. Apparently the sensors weren’t going to be much help.

“He’s right, Captain.” Daniels replied tensely, “I specifically set our course to keep us safely away from any Lagrange points. Whatever this is, it hasn’t been here very long!”

“Hold on, data coming in,” Bremen spoke up before falling silent with a shocked look on his face.

The long moment of stunned silence forced Weston to prod the young man, “Ensign? What is it?”

“It’s… its wreckage, Sir. Sweet Jesus… it looks like an entire fleet died out here.” Bremen said his voice struck with a kind of awe and horror all at once. “Still reading heat dissipating from some, Sir. They’ve only been here days at most, if they use the same materials we do.”

Silence reined on the bridge for a long moment. One thought passed through the mind of every person on the bridge,
what have we gotten ourselves into?

Weston was the first to break the silence, checking a monitor beside his chair and stating, “Breman, I want a complete scan of the system. If whatever did this is still here, I want to know it. Daniels, triangulate and plot a course for the tachyon source.”

Lieutenant Daniels paused a moment before half turning, face downcast, “Lost the signal, Sir. Best I can do is a general area…, about two and a half thousand kilometer diameter.”

Weston sighed, he should have known it wouldn’t be that easy, “All right, take us to the area and initiate a search grid.”

Weston slumped back into the chair, acknowledging multiple reports from the various stations, as they reported negative contacts in each sector they scanned. Reports were still coming in from the labs concerning the tachyon signal and its peculiar modulation, Palin still swore it was an SOS… and judging from the debris they had just seen, that conclusion didn’t take a rocket scientist as the old expression went.

“Captain! We just picked up something along the search pattern. Looks like a ship.”

“Let me see it.”

The large screen focused on a floating hulk, no running lights, no apparent drive activity, no life support…, or life, for that matter. The ship was so dead that the Odyssey’s computers had to enhance the image from the ship’s LIDAR and RADAR-based sensors to allow it to be seen against the black backdrop of space. The screen automatically cut back on magnification as the Odyssey approached the derelict craft, nonetheless increasing in detail as the ships scans picked up more information. The ship was covered with carbon scoring from dozens of weapon strikes. Little of the original exterior appeared intact; although penetrating sensors detected that the interior atmosphere was possibly intact.

“Fascinating. Roberts have the landing shuttle prepped and take a team over there. Full environmental protocol. You’d better assume that it’s a class 6 environment.”

“Yes Sir,” Roberts sent a signal to the shuttle bay and left the bridge.

*****

“Pay up!” Bermont grinned as Rogers curled on the ground, after his more than ten light year standing long jump, emptying his stomach across the deck.

Rogers groaned, but shovelled a ten and twenty into Bermont’s hand just as the alert stations call rang through the deck.

The laughing, joking, retching, and cursing ended abruptly as every man shoved their bitching stomachs back down their throats and stumbled for the door.

*****

It didn’t take long for Commander Roberts to reach the flight deck, and the crews were already prepping the large Prometheus Class Shuttle when he stepped onto the deck, boots echoing against the metal floor.

From another lift he saw a group of soldiers double-time their way across the zero-gee deck, heading toward the shuttle that was prepping. He nodded to himself, approving of their speed, though was a little concerned to note the sickly color of a few of their faces.

One of them, a Sergeant from the Marines. . . . Rogers he thought, was currently the palest black man that Roberts had ever seen in his life. He shook his head slightly in private sympathy for the man, but didn’t comment as the soldier began fitting himself into armor and grab a rifle from the rack. Instead, all he did was suit himself up in likewise fashion, grab a sidearm and rifle for himself, and follow the men onto the shuttle.

Shortly, Roberts was strapping himself into a troop seat on board one of the Odyssey’s recon shuttles, pulling the harness tightly down across his shoulders. Around him, a small team of Special Forces troops followed suit, some of them strapping weapons above their seats and others breaking their arms down in preparation for the mission.

“All right Jenny, take us out,” Roberts addressed the diminutive woman, Lt. Jenny Samuels, in the pilot’s chair and thought he detected an evil grin playing across her face, “and none of that hot-dogging either. The Archangels already know you’re a good pilot!”

A low chuckle rippled around the flight seat as the shuttle was jarred by the thrusters kicking in. Two of the older soldiers groaned at the sound, making Roberts wonder what they knew that he didn’t. He found out a few moments later, as the shuttle’s retro thrusters fired and he was pressed hard, up into the biting straps that held him to his seat. Outside, the shuttle flew clear of the Odyssey’s flight deck.

“Roger Odyssey Control, Archangel two and three have taken up escort positions. We’re burning to intercept vector now,” another jolt slid him roughly into the waiting embrace of the straps as he listened to the shuttle’s radio chatter over the induction transceiver secured to his jaw.

“Confirmed, Shuttle One. WE don’t read any viable airlocks on board so you’ll have to burn through.”

“Affirmative Odyssey Control, the portable lock is being prepped now. We’ll be ready.”

The chatter died down as the shuttle approached the derelict craft, its huge spotlights playing across the carbon-scored exterior as Lt. Matheson searched for a solid section to attach to. The alien ship seemed remarkably intact considering the appearance of its exterior hull and the lieutenant had little trouble selecting a spot. One last jolt pushed Roberts deep into his seat as the shuttles magnetic grapplers locked on and secured them firmly to the ship. From below them they heard the portable airlock lock onto the ship and then a hatch in the floor spiralled open.

“Everybody, lock up. Full environmental protection. McRaedy get in there and cut through.”

A hissing sound echoed through the shuttles interior as the soldiers and pilots locked up their environmental suits and moved into position. Two soldiers covered McRaedy with their rifles as he began cutting through the metal hull of the derelict vessel, sending showers of sparks flying back into the shuttle.

“Damn tough material, Sir!” McRaedy yelled back as he kept working.

“Can you do it, Soldier!?” Roberts asked over the noise.

“Kin-A, Sir,” the man yelled back. “Just watch me go.”

“Go Soldier, Go.” Roberts permitted himself a slight smirk under his helmet where no one was going to notice it.

Despite the slow nature of the work, McRaedy had managed to cut through after a little less than an hour had passed, moving back as the circular piece of metal fell away and clanged inside the derelict.

Roberts looked at one of the soldiers speculatively, “artificial gravity? Curiouser and curiouser.”

Roberts dropped though the hole, followed instantly by two others who swung their rifles up and down the length of the corridor they found themselves in. A third soldier dropped in between them, sweeping a hand-held sensor up and down the hall, tracing hidden circuits and power relays through the ship’s deck, finally settling on a direction and heading toward the ships apparent bow. The rest of the team takes up positions around Roberts and the sensor tech, covering point and guarding the rear.

“This way.” The tech was analysing the power relays and their nodes of intersection, “if we had designed this ship the bridge would be forward another 10 meters or so and up two decks.”

In point of fact, the bridge was up three decks and back 20 meters, but they found it relatively quickly all the same. While the hallways were empty and deserted the bridge was not. Bodies of the crew were slumped over their consoles, barely recognizable as such but definitely the crew.

“My God,” one of the soldiers gagged in his suit, trying fiercely to hold back vomit which would be considerably adverse to his continued good health.

“Help him,” Roberts directed another to help the soldier back to the shuttle, “what in hell happened to them?”

“I don’t know,” the techs voice relayed a grimness that matched the sight before them.

The bodies were completely desiccated, their skin reduced to leather on their bones, their hair waving about in the slightest breeze. Their eyes, or where their eyes should be, were black sunken pits.

“No water or other liquids are present…, but it’s more than that, their cell structure seems to have been ruptured. I’d say the loss of bodily fluids was a side effect sir.” The man said, “If it weren’t for the state of the wreckage I’d say that they’ve been here a long time. Internal heat, air, and other traces say otherwise though.”

Roberts just shook his head, and stepped up beside the second tech, who was trying to interface with the ship’s computer, “any luck, Macklin?”

The tech shook his head. “No, Sir. The computer’s either beyond the tools I’m using or it’s completely scrambled. Given the state of things around here, I wouldn’t be taking any bets on which one it is.”

Roberts was looking over the central seat, apparently the Captain’s position. He marvelled at the similarities to the Odyssey, in its layout and dimensions. Whoever these people were, they certainly seemed to be as close to human as you got.

“Commander Roberts,” his back inadvertently snapped straighter, as he heard the Captain’s voice over the induction set on his jaw, “recall your team, we spotted the source of the transmission and we don’t want to risk leaving you there while we go investigate.”

“Yes Sir,” Roberts thumbed the induction set to wide band broadcast and relayed the Captain’s orders. “Okay, everybody. Pack it up. We’ve got an SOS to answer and the Captain doesn’t want to be late.”

The team made it back to the lock in record time, climbing up out of the derelict vessel and into the shuttle. A signal from the pilot closed the floor hatch and the small ship lifted off, leaving the portable airlock behind still sealed tight.

“Roger, Odyssey control, shuttle one is clear of the alien craft and coming home. Archangels one and two providing escort.”

The Odyssey was already accelerating away from the derelict vessel, as shuttle one and its escort glided in on a docking vector. Looking over the pilots shoulder, Roberts could see the distant glow of four of the Archangels, as they accelerated on maximum burn toward the signal source, mock contrails forming behind them, as the superheated plasma from their twin reactors swirled a few moments before vanishing into the void.

“The Captain’s broken the ’Angels out,” Jenny pointed out the multiple points of light flitting around the big ship.

Roberts glanced at the pilot, “his prerogative, I suppose. Besides, he knows better than anyone, what they’re capable of.”

“You got a point there, Sir. Better strap in now, this one’s gonna be bumpy.”

Roberts hurriedly locked himself back into his seat. When Lt. Samuels said that a flight would be bumpy, even the fighter jocks asked for a transfer. The shuttle closed in on the Odyssey’s stern, slipping in under the massive engines and aligning carefully along the lower deck of the Odyssey’s carrier section. Suddenly, Samuels fired the thrusters and the shuttle drifted along the enclosed deck, its speed suddenly arrested, as the big ship’s fighter ‘trap’ hooked the shuttle. Two loud clangs sounded as the magnetic grappler connected and hauled the shuttle down to the bay floor.

Wincing Roberts unstrapped himself and rubbed his sore shoulders, “Last time I checked, it was a court-martial offence to assault a superior officer, Samuels. I don’t care if you do use the shuttle as a weapon.”

Several soldiers in similar condition laughed ruefully as they disembarked the shuttle, “You’d never get it through the court, Sir, too many of the Brass have identical bruises and they feel that if they had to go through it, so does everybody else.”

Laughter rang in their ears as the team headed for the shuttle pod along the central pylon. Before they got halfway there, Captain Weston stepped out and started toward them.