The shudder of the jump faded as the stars re-aligned to stable points of life, rather than the spears of brilliant luminescence streaking by my view-port as they are when we jump. The jump is still beautiful, but after your tenth, or twentieth, or hundredth jump, it becomes the average. Even as a new freeman, you go through a period of appreciation, but it's been enough jumps for that childlike fascination to fade.
I've been working in the sensor suite since Captain Diedrick recruited me. I've had my fair share of the action, too. I've put out a few fires, whose burns still scar the rooms they affected. I've fixed a hull breach, too. Tomas, the engi, jumped in at the last second before the last of the oxygen drained from the room. With his help, I got the hull to at least hold air. I've even gotten a few baubles to brighten my workstation from the rest-stops we've taken.
We were jumping ahead to a normal beacon- in the immediate seconds after the jump, sensors returned negative on any environmental hazards: asteroids, stellar bodies, or energy storms. We had jumped into a few of each, and none are particularly fun. We have the shields to compensate for an asteroid field, and the five of us crew onboard are enough to respond to any fires that start, but there is just no getting past the constant shudder of the shields struggling to protect us, or the shrill whine of a pulsar passing over us, and the power system shunting off the ionic energy.
This beacon didn't have a distress signal active, either. Those show up before you jump from the previous beacon, and we would know by now if anybody here needed help.
The near-range scanners sent out the radar pulse automatically when we arrived, but the onboard computers filter the results that I see to help keep false-positives down. There's a lot of debris just floating in space, and if there weren't filters, my radar would be full of objects about the size and shape of a ship. The radar returned 5 really good positives, four of which I discounted immediately. All four were ships, but in various states of destruction and decay. Two engi vessels, both with significant hull damage, a mantis vessel, pristine except for the lack of crew, and no power signature, and a large rockman vessel that was actually in two pieces, just close enough to each other to appear as one ship. The purposes of each ship was impossible to divine, and the time they spent here, while impossible to guess accurately, was not a small amount of time. Except in the case of reactor meltdown, a ship's FTL drive can carry thermal energy for weeks or even months after the ship has been disabled.
The fifth lock, for example, still had some lingering thermal energy. I focussed a tighter beam scan on the ship in question. Radar profile similar to a Rebel frigate, not a surprise, so far from Federation space. No hull damage, it seemed. Significant thermal profile, these guys must still be afloat. I pulled the intercom microphone to my mouth and hailed the captain.
"Hey chief, we've got a live one." I rattled off some coordinates and figures. "Recommend your input on it?" I pulled up the radar profile on-screen that had a twin feed to a screen up in the cockpit.
"Yeah, she's still running hot. Too hot to be dead. And you can see the thermal spots where her systems are heating the hull. Plus, the ion emission from her shield emitters say to me that her shields are still up." It's uncommon to find a ship disabled with it's shields still up. "Looks like a Rebel ship, alright. But there's not as much weaponry. Not as much as I'd expect, anyway."
"I agree." I'd noticed that but wasn't sure if I should mention it. "Looks like she's been refitted for something. Cargo hold is bigger, by the looks of it."
"Yeah. I'm going to hail them. I bet there's something useful in there."
My pulse quickened. Combat wasn't new to me, but that doesn't change the fact that we're going to try and test our skill against another ship. We haven't yet, but there is the possibility we lose and die.
"Understood, over and out." I put the mouthpiece back into it's slot in the console.
The captain doesn't disclose everything that happens on the bridge with me, but as I assume the Rebels didn't want to share, or rather, that they wanted to share their missiles more than their cargo. A missile lock followed shortly by the missile itself was all the sharing they wanted to do. A thermal spike around their engines meant they were trying to run. Not that they would, the Captain would order weapons fire on the engine room, and disable their FTL capability. We've been around the block with runners a few times before.
My job right now was also to operate the electronic warfare suite. I had a readout of all the ship's computerized systems, and I had to keep an eye out for suspicious code going through. Unless they had launched a hacking drone, which they hadn't, I had a relatively easy time quarantining the attacking codes, and I had enough time to launch my own attack. I always launched a virus into their surveillance suite, which granted me access to their internal cameras. I counted three enemy crew, plus an anti-personnel drone onboard. No teleporter, so they were staying there. I turned my attention to their cargo holds to try and determine the usefulness of whatever they were trying to keep from us.
The hold contained a large amount of sensor equipment and databanks. While the Rebels could be criticized for their violent uprising, they were led by bureaucrats who know how to run a galaxy. This ship is likely a run-of-the-mill census/survey ship. I'd assume it maps the worlds the Rebels control, counts the populations of loyal Rebels, and identifies Federation military outposts and bases for later action. So they weren't running to keep anything physical from us. They were keeping information about the system from us.
Information we could use. Information I wanted. Information I could get.
I began scouting the network of the Rebel ship. A couple internal firewalls, but nothing serious. They didn't have a counter-electronic-warfare station to keep me out, so I began scouring the networked pathways to try and figure out which lines simply ran to the toilet, and which line would run into the data banks that had the scan information. Of course, if I did stumble over the toilet, I'd send it a signal to start flooding the head. I kept an eye on the sensor monitor, too. The captain of the Rebel ship can't be doing well. His ship's weapons, engines, and oxygen system were disabled. His shields were flickering, but not at full strength. We hadn't taken a hit yet.
There! I found the connection labelled [EXTERNAL DATA STORAGE DEVICE (D:)] and accessed it. One glance at the files told me everything I had already guessed: Text files in orderly folders with world names and locations, and population counts inside. System map files, showing hazards in the jumps ahead of us, distress markers showing where to direct Rebel ships from the next base the surveyor would stop at. Everything we needed to get to the next system in one piece! I started two simultaneous programs: A virus in other systems to mask my intentions, and a download-cascade program designed to transfer more data the longer it runs. The problem is, if the cascader doesn't finish, the data will be compromised completely and utterly unusable.
I pulled the intercom again. "Captain, can you hold off on them? I'm trying to-"
"I can't, son. They're repairing their weapons and will fire on us if we don't destroy them in the next volley."
I looked at the progress bar on my viral monitor. It was gaining speed, but whether it was fast enough, I couldn't tell. Only thing to do now is wait.
I turned my attention back to the radar read. Sure enough, the missile launcher on the enemy ship had been repaired and was seeking a lock on us. Before it could get a good read, our own weapons fired. A triple-burst of anti-ship laser weapons slammed through the shields, and the ship's reactor detonated. Too much, too soon. The ship split into about seven pieces, and separated from each other. I turned my attention to the download.
It had finished! I had all the details the Rebels had about this sector! I got up from my seat to tell the captain.
I passed through Ship Security and an airlock room to stand on the bridge behind his control chair. "Captain, I-"
He turned his chair around to look at me with an expectant look. "Why aren't you in sensors? We need to to help us salvage this wreck." He gestured at the radar readout he had. "Since we had to destroy them, we won't know what their cargo was." He began to turn back around.
"Actually, sir, I hacked their cameras and saw what it was. They were a surveyor, and I pulled the scans they had taken. I'll upload them to the sector map, but we got it all."
He turned back around to face me. "Excellent work, son! So this wasn't a total loss. Want to try your hand at space-work? There's still salvaging to do."
I shrugged my shoulders. "Sure, I'll give it a shot."
"Meet Stick in the Medbay and suit up. Dismissed." He turned back around, and I started making my way to meet Stick.
I haven't really gotten to know the crew. The bunkroom has only 2 bunks, and the captain has his own cabin near the helm. I'm on the same sleep shift as the engi, and he doesn't say anything while we try and fall asleep. The other two crew are a zoltan and a human, but I don't really know either. I had seen them when I had been sworn in, but they had been in formation and in Dress Greys. There wasn't any talking then, and there was almost no cause for us to do so now. We all received our rations through a materials dispersal system that ran through the ship. The engi and the zoltan don't use the head, or rather, not like humans do, and I've never seen a line.
I hadn't even received any training, from anyone. I am a member of the United Federation Space Navy, and the captain only had me watch the training materials and read the manual before he was apparently comfortable with my service. I've re-read the manual, and a few of the others that the UFSN Command had published for the training of both Space Navy Personnel, including Ship-to-Ship combat tactics, Boarding and Hand-Combat Tactics, and the Comprehensive Survival Guide to the Galaxy. I keep meaning to talk to the captain about trying my hand in boarding enemy ships, but I never have.
The doors to the Medbay slid open, and Stick was already suited up. Stick was the zoltan, I assumed. He was running some checks on the human suit for me and turned when I walked in.
"Hello, friend. Captain says you'll be joining me out there." He gestured to a screen that gave an exterior view of the hull. "How you feel about space-work?" His accent was difficult to place, but he sounded as though he had learned his Terran from a European. His bass voice was surprisingly voluminous for a being only about 95% of the mass of an average human being. The end syllable of some of his words trailed off with a slight buzzing, as well.
"I think I'll do okay. But I've never been in one of these suits before. Anything I should know?"
He was shorter than I was, I noticed, as I backed into the suit's front and pulled the thick fabric of the legs up so the belt would line up with my waist. "No, nothing. Any question you think up, you ask me over radio." I tested the flexibility of the suit at the joints. A little restricting, but I assume that's fine. I can still move perfectly fine. Stick was walking to the airlock room.
Once there, he opened a locker and pulled out another suit. This suit, as he demonstrated to me, went on over the first. It was thicker, and had hardened pieces for the major joints: shoulders, neck, elbows, waist, knees, and an articulating ankle-boot structure. The helmet system separated in three pieces, and folded open like a flower. Once the exosuit was on, the three petals of visor, left and right head pieces came together. Lastly, I put on a power and environmental systems backpack. Stick checked my seals, and I checked his. He didn't need a powerpack like I do, but he had environmental systems too. Once fully geared, we cycled the airlock and stepped out onto the hull.
The hull had railings, at one time. Not much of them was left. The cosmetic paint was gone, too. The functional alloy and ceramic plates that made up the exterior, however, retained their color. We trekked across the hull, examining it for anything out of the ordinary, whether useful or dangerous, before we instructed the captain to bring us to the debris field.
Salvage work, I almost immediately noticed, is extremely easy. When the enemy ship was destroyed, parts of it and all it carried were scattered, but for the most part stayed in one clump. Useful things like fuel capsules, operational missiles, and crates of scrap are all modular units designed to split apart from the wreck and from one another. Telltale signs of the remains being useless to us clued us in very quickly to what was worth looking at, and what was worthing being ignored. We could technically stay here as long as we want, amongst the wreckage hunks, and package up every piece of scrap we could possibly use, but we have a mission to be on. We took the useful things, a number of crates of scrap, a couple of fuel pods, and one working missile, before the captain recalled us back inside the ship. Stick and I unsuited, and once we had all the new cargo catalogued, we returned to normal operations and made another jump.
The monitors didn't bring up a feed in the next system. I sighed. Nebula. Not only would I not be able to see much of anything in the clouds of gas that must have been the upper layers of a star, but the electromagnetic forces generated by the swirling maelstrom of matter wreaked havoc on the intelligence capabilities of the ship. Frankly, the whole crew could be working on sensor feeds like I was and we wouldn't even be able to maintain view of our own ship, let alone outside of it, or of an enemy. Luckily, radio and laser carrier particles aren't really affected, so we can still communicate over radio comms, and LiDAR targeting is still operable.
But LiDAR didn't turn up any locks. It auto targets viable threats to allow the captain to choose what targets he has as options to be fired on, but there wasn't anything resembling a ship here. There was, however, a station nearby. LiDAR makes trying to decipher writing in the paint or even identification welded to the station impossible due to the lack of resolution. The detail of LiDAR painting isn't very good. I tried to fiddle with the particle count of the beam, and then the sweep speed, but there wasn't any better resolution to be had. LiDAR was, after all, a backup measure.
I sat back in my chair. Undoubtedly the captain would be hailing them right now, but there's no job for me to do.
The door slid open behind me. Without thinking, I swivelled my chair and got up-
-To stare directly down the barrell of a Rebel hand-blaster. "Where do you think you're going?"
Time slowed down. My eyes snapped instant pictures of everything about the man. tousled dark hair, uniform a little bit too big for him, wild eyes. His eyes stared straight at mine. He must have already seen I don't have a weapon in here. Well, not a blaster.
I raised my hands slowly. He lowered his blaster from shoulder to hip, but still kept the barrel trained on me. At this range, with no protection, he'd liquefy me. He stepped close enough for the door he came in through to close.
His boot straps weren't all on. His belt was a notch too loose. He wasn't even wearing combat armor. This guy must have been teleported onto the ship from the station. Apparently, the Rebel station. His uniform was clear, though. He was a Rebel. I learned that much from my spotty training. I don't think the captain knows he's on board, but I don't think he'd approve of him being here. I'll remove him.
"The safety is on." I made a visible effort to look like I relaxed slightly. But I kept my eyes on his. His retinas didn't even shake. It was off.
"No, it's off, buddy." He kept staring. His eyelids closed, and fluttered open with his retina halfway between me and halfway to check the blaster. I exhaled and saw his muscles start to tighten on the trigger.
But I was faster. Time snapped back to normal and I was lunging myself at him. Really, I had just leaned forward, but pressed my body up against his, so that if he could rotate the barrel to fire, I'd be able to wrench it out of his hand easily. Also, as a side effect, the energy would probably splash off me and kill him too, but I don't intend to die.
He didn't try and shoot. He slammed against the door, which didn't open fast enough, but did open and we tumbled out into the unused system room adjacent to Sensors.
I had wrapped my arms around him but now I used them to push myself off the floor and reached down to feel the blaster. I locked my hand over the top of the weapon, thumbed the safety, and pushed as hard as I could to get it out of his hand. He was preoccupied with landing, still, and let go with comparatively little difficulty. I didn't want to give him the chance to get it back, however, so I tossed it behind me, through the door that we fell through, and it closed. I rolled off him and got to my feet, in the combat stance I learned from the arena. He shook his head and got up, a little slower than I. I was confident I could beat him within an inch of his life, so I gave him the benefit of getting up before I started in on him.
He blocked a right hook but didn't block the second, and staggered. Trying my luck, and half evaluating his abilities, I swung a third and he took the full force, slamming into the wall. He clearly wasn't trained for this. I feinted twice with my right and left fists to cover for a full power flat footed kick to his sternum while he was still recovering from both the faked blows and the impact with the wall. He flew backwards, and his head hit the wall low behind him. He slumped over and didn't make a move to get up.
I took a breath, and stood up straight. I took a step towards him, waiting for him to move. He was breathing, but not conscious. I kicked him lightly to ensure that. I decided to check his pockets and kneeled to start rifling through-
When the room around me flashed red and a blaster shot charged the air where my head had just been. Reflex kicked in and I spun, up and towards the shooter, before I even got a good look at him.
Another Rebel, standing just inside the door leading in from Weapons. The doors all around the room, I noticed, were open. I don't remember them opening. But adrenaline makes you focus on the important things when it's going.
This guy, as I flew towards him, I noticed was like the other- ragged, but armed. He was skinnier, and less sure of himself. Explains why he missed. He looked angry, though. His thin face was twisted between a sneer of doing a dirty job and a surprise. I bear-hugged him around the chest as he was still trying to bring the barrel of his blaster down to fire again. He wasn't stanced properly and just crumpled below me. I bounced with him when we hit the wall, in the corner by the door. I recovered first and threw him by the shirt into the middle of the room, away from the doors.
He was trying to get his bearings when I started to charge him again. He fumbled and dropped his blaster, but snapped a combat knife off a sheath strapped to his hip. We tangled, fell to the floor, and his knife clattered away, too. I pushed his chest so he was lying on his back, and then kneeled on his chest and nailed him a few times across the jaw. I wasn't counting. I was looking to see when he'd lose consciousness. He struggled, at first, but then he started to ragdoll and I stopped. He was out. I stood.
I was breathing hard now, but I collected his blaster from where it had fallen. The first hadn't moved. I examined the weapon for a moment, but footsteps caused me to prepare for one more. Although that sounded like more than one.
Captain Diedrick sauntered in and I lowered the weapon back to my prisoners. His hair was a bit messy, and he was visibly sweating, but he seemed to be recovered from whatever he had just been doing. He whistled.
"Sorry chief, but I hope they're not your friends." I started.
He shook his head. "Three others teleported into other rooms. We neutralized them but I was worried about the other two. The last guy we took said there was two more. But it looks like you handled the situation well." He looked at the blaster I held pointed at them. "You can keep anything you found on them. Are they alive?" I nodded, and he sighed. "Well, I guess we'll put them back on that station using our teleporter. Go through their pockets, and I'll have Mara help you drag the blokes to the teleporter room." He walked through the room, to Weapons. The door was closed again, and cycled to allow passage.
The Rebels had a few odds and ends between them, the knife and two blasters, some Rebel currency chips as well as a well Galactic Currency chips. I was just finishing when Mara walked in.
She was gorgeous. Rosy red cheeks, and a wisp of brown hair tumbling down her forehead. Fair complexion, and she greeted me with a surprised smile. "Wow, Cap'n wasn't kidding, you really did get both of 'em."
I hadn't thought of anything to say, so I shrugged and put the things they had into my pockets. "I'll take the bigger one." I walked over to the first. I bent and slung him over my shoulder.
Mara looked at me for a moment but she moved to grab the other guy. Mara isn't as well built, I noticed, and she couldn't pick him up. "I'll come back for him, then." I lugged the first to the teleporter, where the captain was waiting, and set him down. Mara had dragged him by the arms through one room, but I carried him the rest of the way.
"Want to do it one at a time, with one of our guys to go too? I think you'd like to experience the teleporter before we send you on a boarding mission, Bryon."
I just nodded and took my place on the energized pad. I gave Cap'n a thumbs-up and he hit a button on the wall.
Teleporting is like regaining consciousness after being knocked out, except much faster. You don't even have time to topple over. I staggered a bit but once my vision was completely back to normal, I was fine. In a moment, Mara and the second guy flicked into the room we had been 'ported into. Mara and I took a look around at the dirty outpost, and she said "Nothing of value. Let's go." We held still and teleported back.
Mara returned to her station. Captain Diedrick spoke up once I was back, "I'll show you the combat stores. I don't want you boarding until we have another crewman to go with you, since we have two teleporter pads, but you can repel enemy boarders more effectively with armor, can't you?" The question was rhetorical, but he was already opening the lockers attached to the teleporter equipment.
I was given a tough synthetic fiber vest fitted with energy dispersing patterns of ceramic lattice, covered by ablative alloy plates designed to peel off when breached. Similar defenses, although less thick, for an undersuit and finally, armor plating that fit together almost seamlessly at the joints, for my arms and legs. Designed to stop impacts, the armor was still new, and shone beautifully with fresh paint and silent movements. An open helmet with integrated comms to complete the package.
Noticing how pleased I was looking with the new adornments, Diedrick said "You know, this is standard issue for the 'Rines. Space Marines start out with this stuff in boot camp. If you want, even better is available."
I laughed a little bit, half forced and half not. "This is fine, sir. I think I'll be able to work with this."
"Excellent! I'll get us set up for the next jump, and maybe you'll be able to try it out." He left. I continued adjusting and admiring myself on the chromed faces of the machinery. Painted with the United Federation colors Orange and Grey, I looked like a news segment hero. Like I was going to just give my report on the flawless victory over enemy forces. I hardly even noticed the jump.
Diedrick squawked over my comms, however " You're in luck, buddy. They've teleported into Shields, but they'll probably move to engines. On the double, soldier!"
"Aye aye, sir!" I tried to stop grinning as I moved. I don't want to look crazy.
But damn, it feels good to be a free, and dangerous, man on a military vessel.