COUNTERPOINT
CHAPTER 2: THE PILOT
PART 5
By Mya Thevendra
"What do you mean they're all dead?" screeched Valerie.
Kimiko leant against the hatchway, and peered back through the access tunnel into the darkness of the passenger cabin. Another flashlight had been recovered from one of the side lockers, and it's flickering beam shone in the background.
"What do you think I mean, Mailer?" Replied Kimiko wearily. Seeing the horrendous fate of the training fleet had stolen what little bravery she had remaining, and her strength waned as she sagged against the rear of the cockpit.
"I mean they're dead. I don't know, there must be some survivors…if we made it, then someone else must have."
"Oh God, I-I want to see!" cried one of the cadets.
Two others pushed to the front of the gathering at the other end, hankering to climb through and see the carnage with their own eyes, when Kimiko shouted back.
"No, stay back there! There's not enough room in here. Believe me…believe me, you really don't want to see it."
Amid murmurs of anguish, Palmer called out:
"Satomi, what about the pilots?"
"One's dead," said Kimiko, glancing at the seated corpse behind her, "the other one's alive I think, but he's cracked his nut. It doesn't look good."
"Is the first aid kit there?" Called Drickson.
"Yeah, but…I only got a D in first aid. Can anyone beat that?"
"Most people, I think, Satomi."
"Hey, what about Val?" Said another cadet, "Hey Val,you did good in first aid, didn't you?"
"Yeah, but…"
"Hey, it's okay Satomi, Val's coming!"
Kimiko shook her head, and sat down in the co-pilot's seat to retrieve the medical kit. With a little careful coercion, Valerie "volunteered" to administer first aid to the wounded co-pilot, and after a few moments, her head poked through the hatchway into the cockpit.
"Oh, Jesus." she whispered, eyeing the shattered figure slumped in the left hand chair, "Is she really…"
"Dead?" jibed Kimiko, as she held out the medical kit, "No, she's napping. Here."
Valerie scowled, and then slid down onto the floor; as she reached out for the kit, she looked out of the cockpit window, and froze.
"God."
Kimiko looked over he shoulder at the dreadful scene, and then back at Valerie.
"They're, they're..." stuttered Valerie.
"I told you," replied Kimiko quietly.
Valerie took a moment, and crouched on the cockpit floor, while the realisation of what had happened sunk in. Kimiko sat, and silently watched her; there was a look in Valerie's eyes, a look of fear and grief like that of a small child. It stung her deep inside, and she wondered whether the same expression lay across her own bloodstained face. Eventually, she spoke out.
"C'mon Mailer, this guy needs some help."
Valerie nodded weakly, and turned her attention to the co-pilot.
"Ugh, I think I'm gonna be sick," she groaned, examining the man's smashed skull.
"Don't, for God's sake." Grumbled Kimiko, "Like there aren't enough gross things to look at. I really don't need to see your fuckin' breakfast too."
"Oh, put a sock in it, Satomi." said Valerie, while she applied a gauze wrapping to the wound. "Here, put your hand on it."
While Kimiko held the wrap in place, Valerie reached into the medical kit, and retrieved a roll of bandaging, and proceeded to wind it around the co-pilot's head until the gauze had been pressed into place, and then fastened it underneath his chin. Rummaging around at the bottom of the kit, Valerie then brought out a syringe and a small cluster of medical vials. Drawing liquid from one of them, she pulled the man's arm straight, rolled up his sleeve and squeezed it above the elbow till a bluish vein bulged to the surface.
"What's that?" Asked Kimiko, eyeing the syringe cautiously.
"It's a calcifier. It'll help his bone repair itself," replied Valerie, nodding towards the co-pilot's head, "and it'll keep him stable. I don't think there's anything else I can do."
With gritted teeth, Valerie pushed the needle tip through into the vein, and emptied the syringe.
"Now what?" Asked Kimiko.
"God, didn't you pay any attention at all during first aid?" snapped Valerie.
"Yeah, I got a D, didn't I?"
"What, you think that's good?" asked Valerie incredulously.
"It's a pass, so it's good enough."
"I swear, Satomi," muttered Valerie, packing up the medical kit, "you so don't belong here."
Kimiko stood up, and walking to the hatchway, she squinted back into the cabin.
"Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing myself…" she muttered.
Drickson spoke through from the gloom on the other side of the access tunnel:
"Hey, Miss Buxton wants to know how the pilot's doing!"
Before Kimiko could reply, Valerie pushed in front, and called back.
"I've taken a look at him," she announced, "he's stable I think, but he's not going to last much longer unless we get to a capital vessel, or a medical frigate, and all the ones from the fleet have been destroyed, by the looks of it."
"Okay, hang on a sec," Replied Drickson and relayed the message to Carol, who still lay pinned against the cabin floor. After a moment, he returned.
"Miss Buxton wants to know if there are any, any hostiles out there."
"No, there's nothing." Said Valerie.
"Nothing we can see, anyway." added Kimiko.
"Okay," said Drickson, "she said she wants you to check the damage display."
Having regained her composure somewhat, Valerie reverted to her usual domineering persona, and assumed authority of the murky cockpit. Shoving past Kimiko, she settled into the co-pilot's seat, and examined the forward console.
"I can't," she yelled back, "There's no power, everything's dead!"
"Try and switch on the backups…" came Drickson's faint voice.
The console from where this would have been done lay across the upper right side of the cockpit; such was the extent of the damage however, that even this specially insulated terminal had been shorted out.
The backup generators for the cockpit systems were located about six feet beneath and in front of the forward flight consoles, deep within the nose of the shuttle. Valerie knelt down and removed one of the panels in front of the co-pilot's flight yoke and peered inside. She shook her head; a melted net of smouldering cables lay plastered around the interior, and somewhere behind, out of sight and reach, were the generators. Kimiko bent over Valerie's shoulder and grinned.
"Hunh. Need a hand?"
"No!" barked Valerie, "I can handle it, all I need is a-a…"
"A what?" Kimiko asked, "A really long stick? Relax Mailer, I've got this one covered, now get outta the way!"
Shooing Valerie aside, Kimiko crouched down, and ran a finger along a clump of wiring running along the floor of the compartment.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" scowled Valerie.
Kimiko edged further and further forward, creeping along almost on her belly, and reached into the dark, tangled space in front with her right arm.
"Wait just one second…"
Taking care not to burn herself on the exposed wiring, she twisted her arm around and then looked over her shoulder at Valerie.
"Go over to power relay switches!"
"What, but there's no power?"
"For God's sake Mailer, just do it, will you?"
Valerie stood up, and sidled around the pilot's corpse to the left hand wall console.
"Come on, Mailer let's go! I don't want people calling me lefty, God damn it!"
"All right! All right, I'm there. Now what?"
"Wait until the backup light comes on, and then transfer the power to the main battery."
With a grunt, Kimiko pressed her shoulder forward, and at that instant, and very much to Valerie's surprise, the signal light for the cockpit's backup generator flared. Not wasting any time, she quickly opened a power feed into the cockpit system grid, and electronically locked the connection into place.
"Hey, how did you do that?" She asked.
Kimiko shuffled backwards, and slowly withdrew her arm from the cabling compartment.
"There's a little junction box for one of the backup generators," she said, "it's within arm's each if you know where to find it; if the backup control terminal's kaput, you can use it to restore cockpit power."
"They never taught us that?" Said Valerie, a little put out that Kimiko had known something about the shuttle's systems that she hadn't.
"Yeah well, it's not "standard procedure" or something like that," said Kimiko, rubbing her hand across her sleeve.
"How did you know it was there?"
"Oh, there was this old Albatross shuttle back at Miholo Academy. It was just a piece of junk, no one flew it; I used to tinker around in the cockpit when I didn't have anything better to do. I was trying to get some of the optics working when I found that junction box."
Kimiko gave a wry grin to herself.
"Yeah, if the primary power core's online, there's something like a one in four chance that you'll get fried if you touch it. So it's not exactly surprising they don't tell you about it."
Valerie looked over at her, and screwed her face up in disbelief.
"What, are you serious? Have you got a death wish or something?"
Kimiko tilted her head to one side and smiled.
"Lemme see. Death, or sitting in a smoky cockpit with a corpse, a vegetable and, well…you. Hmm, give me a minute. "
Valerie gave her another scowl, and Drickson's voice called out once again.
"What's happening?"
"Hang on," said Kimiko checking the co-pilot's flight console. After a couple of attempts at booting it up, the panel flickered to life, and some of the display screens, although scorched and cracked, were still relaying information from the shuttle's electronic systems. Cycling through one of the display's various functions, Kimiko accessed the damage analysis screens. Valerie, and others behind listened as she delivered the readings.
"The third primary thruster is online, thrusters one and two are toast. There's intermittent response from the laterals, same goes for the collar thrusters…"
"What about the hull?" asked Valerie.
"Hull, hull…" muttered Kimko, flicking through the display screens, "The hull's uncompromised. There's a shitload of yellow grade regions, and one red one, but it looks good to hold for the moment. The ship's power core is still functional, magnetic gravity is stable."
"Hey, why don't we shut off the gravity rail?" asked one of the cadets from the cabin. "That way we'll be able to lift all of that stuff on top of Miss Buxton."
"No, that's no good." Answered Valerie. "Her leg's too badly injured; if she moves it, it'll just make it worse. Anyhow, if we take the rail offline, we probably won't be able to get it back, and that'll leave a whole load of heavy debris floating around back there with all of you."
Kimiko turned back around, and continued reading off the display screen.
"Ok fuel. Fuel tanks are at eighty four percent. Okay, most…no, make that all of the shuttle's optics have been burned out. There's no radar, no navigation or guidance, and no communication."
"How much air have we got left?"
"Uhh, air supply is…not so good. there's enough for another twenty eight hours. Wonderful."
Valerie leant through the hatchway and spoke back to the others.
"What do we do now?" She asked.
One of the students clambered to the rear of the cabin to check with Carol, and after some pause, he returned.
"She says we've got to go. We have to try and make it to the fleet fallback point at Cid Fleiis."
"What?" said Valerie, "why don't we just wait to be rescued? Command has to know what happened here, there've got to be rescue teams on their way right now!"
"Val," said Palmer at the other end, "For all they know, there aren't any survivors. And even if they are on their way, they might not be able to get here. Maybe the enemy carried on into Confederate space, and are in between them and us; we can't just sit and wait for them, not with just twenty-eight hours of air left. And it's not just the co-pilot that needs help; Miss Buxton's bleeding pretty bad. There'll be a garrison fleet at the rally point, it's our only chance. If we start now, we can make it back."
"What about the other survivors?" Asked Kimiko, stepping to the hatchway, "Are we just gonna leave 'em?"
"If there are any," said Drickson, "then…we can't help them. We're in bad enough shape as we are, and we wouldn't be able to contact them anyway. We just have to hope that they can make it back to Cid Fleiis."
The cadet who had just spoken to Carol came forward again.
"Miss Buxton says that you two are going to have to try and fly the shuttle. She wants Satomi to take lead, and Val, she wants you to co-pilot."
"You've got to be joking!" cried Valerie, "No way! There's no way! I'm not flying with this...retard in the pilot's chair!"
"Oooh retard, " Murmured Kimiko, "and there was me thinking you didn't like me."
From far behind, almost unheard, Carol's straining voice reached forward to the cockpit.
"Val."
"Yeah?" she replied.
"I don't have time to argue this with you. You two are going to have to work together. If you don't want to do it, then one of the others can come up there and take your place."
"No. No, I'll do it." Said Valerie.
"Kim?" Called out Carol, "What about you?"
"Yeah, I'm okay. Sure…"
"All right. Get started."
Valerie turned slowly round and stared blankly at Kimiko. The two were not friends, that much was certain, but nor were they rivals, there was simply an animosity that existed between them, and had done so since they had first met a little over a year ago. To these young cadets, who had never before cared to even train with one another, the sudden prospect of having to work together in such dire circumstances was less than agreeable.
"This can't be happening." Valerie moaned.
"Hey, believe it or not," said Kimiko, "I'm not exactly overjoyed with how this has turned out either."
"You could always leave." Suggested Valerie.
"Heh, forget about it Mailer. I'm staying right here."
"Look Satomi, this isn't about you. Everyone's lives are at stake. I'm sure you think you're a pretty good pilot, but you're not cut out to take lead."
"I don't think I'm good Mailer," Retorted Kimiko, pointing her finger, "I know I am, and you know what? I'm just as good as you."
Valerie met Kimiko's steely gaze and sniffed.
"You really believe that, don't you? I am not even going to dignify that with a response."
"Fine," Said Kimiko, glancing over at the dead pilot, "then shut up, and help me move her."
The girls set about the grim task of removing the pilot from her seat, and carefully, they tucked the body against the rear of the cockpit. The two of them then took their places, and Kimiko fastened herself into her seat, paying as little heed as she could to the blood soaking its lining.
Prying away the console's panelling, she was able to sift through the burnt-out redundant wiring underneath, and directly access the engines' ignition controls. As Valerie rechecked the shuttle's power levels, Kimiko wrapped her right hand around the throttle lever beside her, and tightly gripped her flight yoke with the other.
"All right. Power levels are good," reported Valerie, "output's up to four-eighty, four-eighty two…holding steady at four-eighty two." She looked sidelong at Kimiko.
"I don't think we're going to get any more than that."
Kimiko nodded, and reached over with her left hand. With the console's circuitry swept to one side, a small metal connecter pad inside now functioned as a makeshift ignition switch.
"Okay Mailer, cross your fingers." Said Kimiko, and pressed it.
There was only the sharp click of the metal pad, and nothing more for long seconds afterward, and the two cadets sat in dread that there was some hidden breach in the power system, or the fuel lines. And then suddenly there came a thin ringing sound, like metal pipes clanging against one another, and the sound came faster, and louder, until finally a great roar erupted from beneath them.
"Yes! Power feed's good, fuel feed's good," Said Valerie, checking her readings.
"Thank God for that. Okay, before we start moving," Said Kimiko over the rumble of the shuttle's engines, "we, uh, we're fairly sure that there aren't any more of those things out there, right?"
Valerie looked over and bit her lip.
"Yeah…fairly sure."
"Great, good enough for me. Let's see if we can get turned around."
The shuttle was still spinning slowly in space, and with a gentle tug of her flight yoke, a thick hissing sounded out from the nose; the rising stars slowed to a standstill as the craft levelled. Turning the wheel gently to the right, Kimiko glanced over her shoulder. One of the shuttle's collar burners glimmered into view through the left window, and with a tremendous weight, the nose swung slowly around.
The dreadful panorama idled past before them. The fires had burned out on all but the largest of the fleet's vessels, and a million metallic stars glinted as debris tumbled about them. The great field of wreckage was eventually left to the side, and steadily, the shuttle turned to face the empty expanse of open space that lay behind; a vast emerald hued gas nebula sprawled across the starry blackness, and Kimiko squinted ahead.
"Uh, you do where we're going, don't you?" Asked Valerie.
"What? Pff, of course I do. It's that way, right?" replied Kimiko, pointing with her thumb to a region of space at the tip of the nebula. Valerie nodded uneasily.
"Well, then," said Kimiko softly, "let's get this tub of shit moving."
With her hand wrapped tightly around it, she pushed the throttle bar forward. A low groan rippled through to the cockpit from the rear, and they heard the guttural whine of the engine coil. As it rose in pitch and volume, the entire craft shuddered, and then at last, began to creep forward. Another push of the throttle bar, and the ship jolted, and gathered speed.
With the remains of their fleet, and their friends left far behind, the flight cadets in their battered shuttle began the long and lonely passage back from the Phyrriad system, and on towards the rally point.