Chapter 6
You may be disappointed if you fail, but you are doomed if you don't try.Beverly Sills
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'REB!' Bren screamed at the top of his voice, clutching onto a railing for dear life. But the young captain didn't even seem to hear him; he was too busy trying to bring their bucking bronco of a ship back under control, and failing miserably at that. Swallowing an urge to vomit, Bren made his way over to Reb and grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around. 'Reb, where's the portal? I don't see the portal!'
'We're in the portal, stupid!' Reb roared back over the wailing of the alarm siren. With the next nauseating tossing motion, Zak and Gret half-ran half-fell through the door. They both wound up on the floor with the breath knocked out of them, and before they could stand up, the portal spat the Deepwater out into a strange universe, much faster than the engines alone would ever be able to propel it.
'Reb, what the hell is going on?' Zak yelled, struggling to get to his feet on the shaking floor.
'My God, Reb, what have you done?' Gret added, holding onto Zak's arm for support.
Beads of perspiration broke out on Reb's forehead as he tried to ignore the shouts of his crew and slow them down. Come on, Reb, you can do this. You were chosen. You're the best of the best. He threw on the brakes until they creaked, until the friction must have been enough to set the Deepwater on fire. He didn't even notice the new ship appearing on the radar until it was too late.
'Andromeda, is it Commonwealth? Nietzschean?' Dylan asked desperately, wiping his brow while peering at the radar and the strange ship that had just appeared.
'No,' the ship replied in her usual minimalist fashion. 'I can't identify it. It's like nothing we've ever encountered before. Very primitive, though, I can't detect a slipstream drive or any other familiar modern technology.' Dylan nodded distractedly.
'Can you give me a visual?' he asked. As a way of reply, the Deepwater appeared on the screen in front of him. Dylan frowned at it. 'It looks out of control… I think someone's trying to slow it down. That must mean there are people on board. Alive people. We have to try and save them. Andromeda, do you feel up to playing catch?'
The hologram nodded crisply. 'We should inform them of what we're trying to do, though, so that they can attempt to manoeuvre themselves into a more suitable position. I'll have to adjust our systems a little but I think I can open a com line to them.'
'Do it,' Dylan commanded, not taking his eyes off the screen where the Deepwater was hurtling towards them. There were a few moments of silence. Then…
'Audio communications established,' Andromeda said. First there was a lot of hissing and crackling. Then a voice sounded out, interjected with static but still just audible.
'This is Captain Reb Anderson… ssshhrrrkkk… eepwater. We… cccrrrckk… immediate assistance… sshhrrrkkk… condition unstable… ffzzzttt… please help!' For a moment the voice sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.
'This is Captain Dylan Hunt of the Andromeda Ascendant speaking,' Dylan replied in his most authoritative voice. 'We are doing our best to assist. We need you to try and slow yourselves down a bit more so that our drones can guide you into our airlock. But we must have your assurance that you have no intention of harming us.'
Another pause, then: 'We couldn't even if we wanted to, Captain. We'll do our best, but I've got the brakes on and I don't know that we're slowing down fast enough, and our steering's not what it was.'
'Just do your best,' Dylan said. 'Andromeda, open the airlock.'
'Well?' Zak asked breathlessly, standing on trembling kegs as the cabin finally stopped shaking.
'This ship… the Andromeda, it's the one that the woman came from, isn't it?' Bren asked quietly, watching the drones approach with wide eyes. 'You know what that means, don't you?'
'Yes, I'm aware of what that means, thank you, Bren,' Reb snapped back. 'But would you rather die?' He looked up as the Andromeda filled the screen, the airlock open and awaiting them to board. 'Here goes nothing,' he whispered, and slammed the emergency brakes on as hard as he could, his eyes screwed up tight. 'Brace, everyone!' he yelled, the message broadcast throughout the ship. He could only hope that Yuna, Lise and Beka would have the sense to do as he said without question.
The Deepwater hurtled on board the Andromeda smoothly, before colliding painfully with the deck and creating a screeching shower of sparks. Luckily, Reb and the others had managed to buckle themselves in, or undoubtedly they would have been thrown to the floor once again. As it was, the straps created painful welts across their arms and shoulders and tore holes in their clothes, and their heads snapped back and then forward at whiplash speeds, and creaking the muscles of their necks. Finally, the ship slowed to a halt. Reb looked up to check that his crew was all still intact. Then he grabbed a microphone.
'Yuna, are you OK?' he called into it. The torrent of abuse that followed assured him that she was. He then asked the same thing of Lise and Beka. The strange blonde girl didn't reply, but Lise, who was with her, called breathlessly, and angrily, that they were both alive if that was what he was asking, but that Beka had been knocked out and that Lise herself felt like she'd fractured her skull. Reb cut her off mid-flow and eased himself out of the helm.
'Right, we'll go get cleaned up and then see if our hosts are really who Miss Valentine says they are,' he said grimly. Bren opened his mouth to argue, but Reb silenced him with a look, and the four young crewmembers made their way painstakingly to the showers and fresh uniforms.
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The airtight door creaked open and a hiss of compressed air escaped. Dylan wrinkled his nose at the stale smell. The air conditioning must have given up the ghost just before they had arrived. He steeped on board the Deepwater and looked around in amazement at the strange surroundings. Tyr followed close behind him, holding a very big gun close to his chest and scowling at the plumbing. 'Is anyone there?' Dylan called, hoping that there was still someone left alive.
Silence, for the most fragile of moments, then footsteps. The sound of boots clanking against metal as someone approached, someone who was very eager to see them. Tyr gripped the gun a little tighter, but Dylan shook his head sternly. Suddenly, from round a corner, Beka appeared. Dylan stared, but not for long. She caught him around the middle and nearly knocked him flying. As it was he staggered a few steps back and felt what seemed like all the breath being squeezed out of his lungs.
'Dylan!' she cried happily. 'I thought I'd never see you again! Oh, Dylan, there's so much to tell you; you wouldn't believe what I've seen, who I've seen. Dylan, Har…'
'Yes, OK, Beka,' Dylan cut her off impatiently, sure that she was delirious. He pushed her away, firmly but gently, and held her at arm's length, looking into her eyes carefully. 'Now, Beka, who is the captain of this ship? How many people are there on it? Where are they?'
'I believe that I might be a tad more eligible to answer your questions, Captain Dylan Hunt of the Andromeda Ascendant,' someone called loudly. Dylan looked up from Beka and started as he saw that what had once been empty space a few feet away was now occupied by six people. All young, all dressed in fresh, crisp uniforms, with their arms held behind their backs, seemingly subconsciously, out of habit. They all carried strange weapons; not dissimilar to Gauss guns, in holsters at their hips, a couple with various throwing knives and other blades. The uniform had an insignia on the front in old Earth characters that Dylan could not read. But apart from all these factors, one stood out in Dylan's eyes, as it had done in Beka's. The young man who had spoken, whose voice he recognised as the one who had the claimed the title of Captain, had stepped forward, a wry smile forming on his lips, but his guard not dropping. He had very fair hair, sapphire-blue eyes that seemed to carry a wisdom associated with men many years older than him, and a sadness that only came with those who do not truly know who they are. The man was Dylan's Chief Engineer, Seamus Zelazny Harper.
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