CHAPTER 02

As it turned out, the mechanical docking and airlock facilities aboard the massive alien space station weren't as dissimilar to those of the Earth vessel as Sven Holmes had initially thought.

Using one of the small shuttlepods carried aboard the Pioneer, compact vessels capable of carrying two operator crew and either four additional passengers or cargo, the small away-team had left their ship. They were limited to sublight velocities due to the fact that warp engines simply hadn't advanced to the point where they could be incorporated into such small spacecraft, and as a result the shuttlepods were primarily used for planetary operations and ship-to-ship transfers as opposed to actual space flight.

The two primary flight and navigation consoles at the front of the cockpit were manned by Caesar Hans and Antonio Levente, who had deftly performed a launch from the Pioneer's shuttlebay less than a minute earlier. Despite being sheltered from the raging ion storm by the docking cavern, the shuttle was still limited to employing RCS thrusters for propulsion rather than standard ion engines, as a safety precaution.

"I'm detecting a small airlock fifty metres beneath us," Captain Hans announced, scrutinising the sensor panel on his navigation console as the shuttlepod coasted away from its mothership.

Levente tapped at his controls, adjusting the little vessel's course accordingly and bringing them into a shallow dive.

"Twenty metres," Hans revised as they descended.

In the passenger compartment at the rear of the shuttlepod, Svenn Holmes could do nothing more than watch as the two Solar Defence Force officers coordinates their efforts to get them all aboard the station safety.

The searchlights set into the bow of the shuttle played their powerful beams over the airlock as the spacecraft drew level, and Holms visually inspected the octagonal structure that had been designed to allow arriving ships to nuzzle in and dock. Physically, the docking port and integrated airlock appeared to have rusted over, presumably due to some sort of chemical discharge since the absence of air in space generally prevented rusting. Indeed, the vacuum usually preserved objects in pristine condition.

"Activating docking-collar," Hans reported, tapping commands into his control panel.

The noise of mechanical movement resonated through the shuttlepod, as the extendable collar and docking-latches rose from its dorsal hull.

"Adjusting position," Levente added, using the flight controls to rotate the ship through three axes to bring the docking collar in line with the alien airlock.

Holms braced himself as the pod continued its roll, feeling disorientated as he watched the docking bay spin whilst the artificial-gravity maintained his sense of 'down' despite the manoeuvres. In conjunction, the inertial-dampers reduced the feeling of movement to almost nothing.

With precision thruster bursts, Levente nudged the shuttlepod upward relative to their current position toward the awaiting airlock. The craft made contact with the awaiting docking-port lightly, the buffers on the Earth ship's collar absorbing the impact before latching tightly onto the alien station.

"Docking-clamps activated," Captain Hans confirmed finally, his fingers moving over the console to secure the shuttlepod before the three men disembarked.

Relieved that he finally had a task to perform, Holms vacated his seat and rose to his full height, reaching up to the small dedicated control panel on the ceiling that serviced the docking collar.

"We have a good contact," the EI director informed his colleagues, checking the sensor readouts, "According to these readings there's a breathable atmosphere on the other side of the airlock, a little less oxygen than we're accustomed to but nothing that will cause problems."

"That's reassuring," Levente commented, sliding out of his acceleration seat at the helm after finalizing the engine shutdown and locking his console. Doing so was standard procedure aboard Earth vessels as a precaution against theft of the vehicle whilst it was unattended.

Holms' left hand moved to his utility belt to check that his EM pistol was still in its holster, finding the gesture reassuring as always. With his free hand, he punched in a command to the overhead console, and the thick panel that gave access to the docking collar withdrew into the ceiling with a short hiss of escaping air.

The interior of the collar was now visible, a narrow cylinder approximately two metres in length, constructed from a ribbed polymer fabric that collapsed almost entirely when retracted. On the other side of the cylinder, illuminated only by the dim light spilling into the tube from the interior of the shuttlepod, was an octagonal airlock door constructed from the corroded ochre metal of the space station. In the centre of the door was a circular viewport that had long since been frosted over by stray moisture sublimating in the vacuum.

"Can we open that door?" Captain Hans inquired, craning his neck to look up through the docking collar with the two other men.

"Depending on the density of the metal we could probably use cutting-lasers," Levente suggested.

Holms shook his head, privately marvelling at the SDF's innate ability to always propose a violent solution to a problem rather than exploring other alternatives.

Grasping the two handholds positioned on either side of the port, Holms pulled himself upward into the confined space of the docking collar, feeling his stomach roll uncomfortably as he moved out of the shuttlepod's gravitational field. Earth engineers generally avoided furnishing docking collars with artificial gravity, since zero-G allowed easier transitions between ships that had differing orientations.

Within this weightless environment, Holms pushed himself up against the airlock, pressing his palm to the freezing metal and wondering for a moment what alien being had set this door in place. He knew that the builders of this great station breathed a similar atmosphere to humans, and the size of the airlock itself told Holms that these aliens were approximately the same size as himself. But how many arms, legs or eyes this species had was still a mystery.

Perhaps more importantly, would they going to be hospitable or hostile to their uninvited guests from the distant planet Earth?

Holms wiped away the ice crystals that had developed below the frosted viewport, feeling the surface of his hand freeze uncomfortably as extraterrestrial scripture became visible.

The unintelligible alien signage was embossed, raised slightly from the door, and appeared to take a form that was reminiscent of the Egyptian hieroglyphics that Holms had studied as a young man. He presumed that these words, incomprehensible to him, gave some sort of warning about the operation of the airlock, but had no way to be certain.

Cautiously, he pressed his index finger against one of the raised glyphs, and instinctively snapped his hand back when the embossed scripture glowed from within. With no conventional control station visible, Holms had taken the only course of action he'd seen possible by touching the signage, and was surprised to find that it appeared to be the correct one.

With a loud sucking hiss and the groan of ancient servo motors being called upon for the first time in years, the airlock door withdrew a few inches from Holms before retracting completely into the deck.

Only darkness was visible through the new opening.

"Good work," Caesar Hans observed from beneath the EI scientist.

Encouraged by his success in opening the airlock door without resorting to slicing into it with Levente's cutting-lasers, Holms eased himself the remaining distance through the narrow docking-collar. For the second time in as many minutes, he made the uncomfortable transition to another gravitational-field, and found himself crawling out of a wall aboard the station as opposed to the ceiling of the shuttlepod.

Drawing his EM pistol from its holster and removing a halogen torch from the utility belt he wore around his waist, Holms slipped out of the hatch and tentatively placed his boot down on the metal grid of the deck. Shining his torch down toward his feet to ensure a safe footing, Holms could see that the beneath the metal latticework upon which he now stood, various conduits and cables were visible.

Holmes directed the powerful beam of light all around him, listening to Hans and Levente scramble through the shuttlepod's docking collar even as he inspected his new surroundings.

He was standing in a high corridor, constructed from dark textured metal and gave way to more piping at regular intervals along the passageway. At these points, lattice panels ensured that crewmembers didn't accidentally fall against high-voltage cabling.

Behind Holmes, Captain Hans emerged from the airlock door with his weapon already drawn, and shone his own torch around the long corridor as Levente followed.

"Are you detecting any lifeforms?" Hans inquired, his words seeming extremely loud in the silence of the space station.

Quickly, Holmes replaced his EM pistol and his belt in favour of a small scanning device. Quiet electronic noises issued from the scanner as its miniature sensors reached out into the darkness of the corridors.

"Negative," the director reported after a moment, "But the scanner's range is limited and this is an extremely large station. And there's no guarantee that this species' biology will even be detectable by our sensors."

Hans nodded in silent agreement, obviously aware that the genetic makeup of the galaxy's various races differed greatly. As the Pioneer continued on her course away from Earth, she would almost certainly encounter aliens more exotic than anything that humanity had encountered before.

"We need to locate a command-centre," Hans decided, "There must be a control facility somewhere onboard."

Holms concurred with the captain's assessment, but had no information as to where a command-centre would be situated. He presumed that whoever built this place would be positioned their bridge in the core of the station, but admitted that it was somewhat arrogant to base such an assumption on human standards. If he was to survive this mission hundreds of light-years from his home, he knew that such Earth biases would have to be abandoned.

Abruptly, the scanner's screen flashed with a positive reading, accompanied by a high-pitched chirp warning its user of its findings.

"What's that?" Levente asked sharply.

"A life-form reading just appeared for an instant," Holms told him, frowning at the small liquid-crystal screen, "But it's vanished again."

Hans brought up his EM pistol. "Where?" he demanded urgently.

Holms checked the scanner again. "A hundred metres," he said, pushing past the two SDF men and breaking into a brisk run down the long corridor, shining his torch to illuminate his path.

Hans and Levente followed in the scientist's wake, moving down the dark passage with their customary military precision.

Holms checked his scanner again as he ran, but whatever had been detected was no longer visible to the sensors. He charged past a corridor intersection, listening to the jarring metal noise his boots made as they impacted with the grid work of the deck.

"Distance? Hans called from behind.

"Forty metres!" Holmes shouted over his shoulder.

Suddenly, the corridor up ahead flashed green with a powerful energy discharge, and blinding sparks geysered from an overhead conduit.

"Weapons fire!" Levente snapped, skidding to a stop and sliding smoothly into a small alcove set into the bulkhead.

Holmes dove for cover in another recessed section, breathing hard as he looked at the LCD screen of his scanner. "Plasma weapons," he whispered hoarsely, wincing as the alien sidearms fired again a few dozen metres distant.

A moment later, a deep, throaty voice could be heard roaring commands in a harsh alien dialect.

The sparks issuing from the ruptured conduits provided considerable, if intermittent illumination, so all three Earth men replaced their torches on their utility belts so that they wouldn't draw attention from whoever, or whatever was up ahead.

Grasping his own weapon with both hands, the captain of the Pioneer slid out of his concealment and began to move toward the sound of commotion, keeping his back to the bulkhead as he went.

Levente swiftly changed position to the opposite side of the corridor from his commander, so that they could set up a crossfire if necessary and attack an enemy from two vectors, and followed Hans no less than two metres behind.

Steeling himself by drawing in a long breath of cool air, Holmes un-holstered his own EM pistol. His fingers wrapped around the moulded handgrip of the weapon, and as he felt its satisfying weight he emerged from the relative safety of the alcove and hurried after his crewmates.

Tense seconds passed as the trio of officers from the only Earth starship within a hundred light-years advanced toward the scene of battle, until they finally reached the doorway from where the initial weapons shot had emerged.

Holmes felt his jaw clench with anxiety as they tentatively looked around the doorframe, and saw that the entryway gave access to a high balcony in a massive cylindrical room.

The facility was easily twenty-metres high, with a diameter that was perhaps half its total height. Three balconies ran around the circumference of this huge room, each with three doors that presumably gave access to more corridors.

This place was illuminated by dim crimson lighting, and the husky alien voice could still be heard down below.

Alongside Hans, Holmes gently placed a foot out onto the balcony, careful not to alert anyone to their presence, and leaned over the handrail to see what was taking place on the lower level.

Twenty metres beneath the Pioneer crewmen, Holmes could see the beastlike forms of three alien beings armed with rifle weapons. They were fierce-looking bipedal creatures, humanoid in general appearance, but with long manes of unkempt dark hair and monstrous faces that were twisted into perpetual snarls.

From his vantage point, Holmes estimated that none of these beasts was less than seven-feet tall, with muscular bodies and dirty armour that only served to enhance their terrifying appearance.

Huddled around the central console set into the lower-deck were two smaller humanoids, wiry aliens with smooth grey skin and dark eyes that dominated their hairless heads. Holmes vaguely noted that they had a similar appearance to the creatures described by people who claimed to have been abducted by alien spacecraft in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, but decided that he didn't have the luxury of exploring the possibility at that time.

The grey aliens appeared to be prisoners.

One of the looming warrior creatures was still barking commands at his two, captives in his own language, possibly trying to extract information. But the grey aliens were cowering together, obviously terrified to the point where they were unable to speak.

Hans crouched down, gesturing for his two people to lean in close to receive their instructions. "I'll take the one who's speaking," he whispered, a fierce intensity visible in his eyes, "Levente has the one on the left, Holmes has the right."

Holmes nodded, feeling the adrenalin coarse through him at an even greater rate and his heart rate increase. He felt a wave of relief move over him that Hans was going to rescue the pathetic creatures being held, but took no pleasure at the prospect of shooting someone, even a beast like the three below.

But the EM pistols that the away-team had been equipped with were primarily non-lethal weapons, although at maximum intensity they could kill a man as easily as the old plasma pistols. Shooting the aliens at a medium intensity would, in theory, incapacitate them for a few minutes and allow the away-team to secure them with restraints.

Using the handrail to steady his aim, Holmes levelled the muzzle of his stocky weapon at his target. The intimidating alien had his back to the Pioneer crewmen, and appeared to be operating a computer whilst his associates handled the interrogation. Hans had, in all likelihood, made the conscious decision to give Holmes the easiest target.

"On my order," Hans said quietly, "Fire!"

Holmes squeezed the trigger of his pistol, and felt it momentarily become warm in his hands as it discharged a powerful pulse of electromagnetic energy. The bolt of energy burned across the intervening space between the weapon and target, striking the alien squarely between the shoulder blades.

Hans and Levente hit their own targets with equal precision.

But the instant they were hit by the electromagnetic pulses, the aliens spun around with their rifles raised, discharging searing beams of green power toward the upper-level.

Holmes threw himself backward from the guardrail and into Levente just as the alien weapons shots hit the balcony, tearing large holes in the metal as the away-team scrambled back into the corridor.

The creatures down in the pit were noisily exchanging commands, their heavy boots causing the decking to vibrate as they ran for the exits.

"How the hell weren't they affected by our weapons?" Levente asked, aghast at what he'd just witnessed.

"They must be a lot tougher than we are!" Holmes answered, equally stunned that their targets had barely been staggered by shots that would have incapacitated a human for at least fifteen minutes.

"That doesn't matter now!" Hans snapped, prodding at his EM pistol's controls, "Increase to maximum power!"

Holmes complied, increasing his weapon's intensity to its highest setting, a level of damage that would easily kill a human. But as they'd proved, these aliens weren't human.

"Check your scanner!" Hans ordered, "Can you locate those things?"

The EI director fumbled with the small sensor device for a moment before giving an answer. "No!" he shot back, "They're not showing up at all!"

"They're on their way up here!" Levente decided.

"Agreed," Hans said, his eyes scanning the shattered remains of the balcony just beyond the doorway, "We have to get down to those people."

Holmes shook his head. "That balcony won't support our weight."

Hans hesitated for an instant before brushing the scientist aside, reaching up and pressing his fingers into one of the grids on the wall and hefting the framework loose. Tossing the panel aside with a loud clang, the captain gripped a dense coil of wire, braced his feet against the wall and pulled.

A thick cable tore free of the bulkhead, and Hans continued with his fluid pulling motion until a good amount of wiring had collected on the deck.

"We're going to jump?" Holmes asked, shocked at what his commander was proposing.

Hans smiled wryly. "Unless you have a better idea," he confirmed, wrapping the end of the cable around a newly-exposed conduit and tying it as tightly possible. Then, he gathered up the remaining length of wire and tossed it roughly through the open doorway.

"This is insane," Holmes muttered, already becoming resigned to the fact that Hans was intent on abseiling the twenty metres to the deck below.

The captain grasped the cable with both hands, and with a final look back at his two colleagues, leapt through what remained of the balcony and out of sight.

Levente glanced up at Holmes. "After you," he prompted.

The scientist shrugged. "How kind," he commented, taking the cable in both hands and lowering himself carefully through the doorway.

Forcing himself not to look down, Holmes descended the length of cable with as much speed as he could manage. The descent took less time that he would have predicted, and as his feet made contact with the hard deck he breathed a short sigh of relief.

He turned, and saw Captain Hans standing over the two grey aliens who were now huddled together on the ground beneath the central console. Their dark eyes were staring up at the Earth captain, listening to the human's words through their small ears but unable to comprehend their meaning.

Holmes took a few steps across the deck toward them, lowering himself to one knee as he approached and scrutinising their appearance further as they in turn regarded him.

These identical beings were no more than four feet in height, with thin limbs and comparatively large heads in relation to their sinewy bodies. They wore skin-tight jumpsuits that were almost the same tone as their grey skin. Now that he was closer, Holmes could see that their skin was opaque, and that darker capillaries and muscle tissues were clearly visible beneath their surface.

"My name's Caesar Hans," the captain was saying softly, "My ship is docked at this station."

Holmes heard Levente land nearby, and as the tactical officer moved to stand beside him, he pulled the universal translator device from his belt and activated it.

The translator was a relatively new item of technology, a cylindrical object approximately ten inches in length and two in diameter, developed over the course of a century by Earth scientists. It operated by sending and comparing a subject's brainwave frequencies, and selecting concepts that were comparable between species to use as the basis of a translation.

Universal translators had originally been employed to allow different nationalities of Earth citizens to communicate when speaking in their native tongues, but with the advent of spaceflight had advanced to include several alien languages as well.

The Pioneer's sophisticated computers contained a software version of the universal translator that was in continuous operation, translating the words spoken by different nationalities of crew and even aliens who came aboard the ship.

"They need to say something in order for the translator to work," Holmes explained quietly, careful not to unnerve the frightened aliens any further, "It has to collect a sample of their language so that its software can create a translation matrix."

"They don't look very talkative," Levente observed, directing his weapon upward to guard against the inevitable return of the other aliens.

Holms agreed with the tactical officer's assessment, looking across at these cowering creatures and how pathetic they appeared trembling before him on the deck.

"We need to get these people back to the ship," Hans said, glancing up at his crewmates, "Those things could be back at any minute."

Holmes opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, a rapid series of clicks issued from one of the grey aliens.

Then, as suddenly as the sound had begun, it ceased.

"What did it say?" Levente asked, neglecting to specify a gender since such a determination would be extremely difficult to make this early in their encounter.

Holmes checked the readout on the universal translator. "It collected five seconds of their speech," he told them, "It's processing the words and creating a basic translation."

"How long?" Hans inquired, obviously weary of another encounter with their foes and eager to evacuate the space station.

The translator bleeped, and a positive message flashed up on its LCD screen. "It's finished," Holmes announced, tapping a control, "I'm replaying what it said."

"Nor-si-can," came the computer-synthesized voice of the long device.

Hans turned to the EI scientist. "What's that?"

Holmes shook his head. "I'm not sure," he admitted, "I think it's a proper name that doesn't have a direct translation to our language. I think it could be name of the aliens who were holding these people prisoner."

"Because this one said it after I mentioned them coming back?" Hans asked, gesturing toward the individual that had spoken.

"So why did these 'Nausicans' attack them?" Levente interjected, just as sounds of movement were heard above them.

"We'll find out later!" Hans snapped, reaching down and lifting one of the timid grey aliens into his arms, "Come on!"

Holmes hooked the translator back onto his belt and reached for the remaining alien, pushing his hands under its arms and raising it aloft. He drew the trembling creature in close to his chest, supporting its weight with his free arm and aiming his EM pistol into their air as he darted for the nearest exit with the captain.

Green beams of energy began to slam into the deck all around them, vaporising the metal grid as the Nausicans on the upper-level cried out in their severe language.

Levente, the most mobile of the away-team without one of the delicate aliens in his arms, returned fire as he ran for cover. Firing his weapon, he sent two burning pulses of electromagnetic power up through the air toward the Nausicans, slamming into the doorframe and forcing them to withdraw.

Holmes hurried through the doorway, momentarily glancing down into the alien's large ebony eyes and thinking that this was the most exotic being he'd encountered thus far in his career.

Bringing up the rear, Levente discharged another shot just as he slipped through the door and out of the large room. The pulse slammed into one of the Nausicans, hitting his chest and knocking him off balance.

The massive alien stumbled forward though what remained of the upper-balcony, falling the twenty metres in the blink of an eye and smashing into the hard deck. His body lay at an awkward angle, obviously having been killed or seriously injured in the fall.

"Which way back to the shuttle?" Captain Hans demanded, rounding a corner into another gently curving corridor and coming to an abrupt halt as he realised that he didn't know where he was going.

Holmes shifted the weight of the shivering alien so that he could replace his EM pistol and grasp his scanner, and consulted the small device's screen. "We're heading in the right direction!" he said, thankful that the scanner had recorded the away-team's movements and therefore had a directional reading back to the docked shuttlepod.

"They'll be down here in a few seconds!" Levente told them sharply, "We'd better make ourselves scarce!"

"You'll get no argument from me!" Hans agreed, scurrying down the long passage with as much finesse as possible whilst carrying one of the grey aliens.

Holmes followed close behind, relying on Levente to defend against any further Nausican attacks. In his arms, the small sentient creature looked up at his face, and made a series of shrill noises that sounded almost identical to those made by its friend.

But with the universal translator inactive on his belt, Holmes was unable to comprehend what this being was trying to communicate to him. He hoped that the alien was attempting to convey his gratitude at being rescued, to say thank you to the three Earthmen for saving them.

"Those Nausicans must have a ship docked somewhere on the station!" Levente called as they hurried down the passage in the general direction of their awaiting shuttlepod.

"Perhaps they're sheltering from the storm!" Holmes suggested, feeling the trembling of the little alien he carried diminish.

"No!" Hans shot back, leading the way through the corridor network with the first creature in his arms, "They were interrogating these people! They were looking for something!"

"Maybe our new friends can tell us!" Levente responded as the trio rounded another corner.

Raising his handheld scanner to eye-level, Holmes checked the graphic representation of this sector of the station. "There's a staircase up ahead!" he informed Hans, "Go up three levels and we should be back at the airlock!"

The captain needed no further urging, and upon sighting the narrow flight of steps changed direction and ascended them two at a time. As he led the way up the stairs, he holstered his EM pistol and removed his torch in preparation for re-entering the darkened section.

Following Hans, Holmes charged forward into the shadows near the airlock where the shuttlepod was docked. In the distance behind them, he could hear the heavy footsteps of the two remaining Nausicans drawing closer.

Upon reaching their destination, Holmes allowed himself to draw a little comfort from the welcoming lights of the shuttlepod's cockpit already visible through the docking collar.

"Get aboard!" Hans urged everyone, holding the first grey alien close to him as he clambered feet-first into the conduit connecting the shuttle to the space station, and slid gracefully through the narrow tube.

Holmes hurried to insert himself into the collar with his own rescued alien, and pushed himself through the confined space as quickly as he was able. When the artificial gravity of the small ship took hold and drew him downward, Holmes felt his legs grasped by Captain Hans who assisted his exit from the collar.

Once Holmes was safely aboard, Hans lunged toward the flight controls and dropped into the acceleration seat, his nimble fingers moving over the console to power up the shuttle.

Levente dropped through the hatch a moment later, landing with the grace of a cat before hurling himself forward and into position at the navigation console.

Holmes quickly placed the alien down in the rear passenger compartment next it its fellow, before reaching up to the overhead console and punching in a command.

"Airlock sealed!" the scientist reported as the thick panel emerged from the ceiling, "Retracting the docking collar!"

"Clamps released!" Levente confirmed, "We're floating free!"

At the helm, Hans worked the controls and the shuttlepod's thrusters flared to life, accelerating the vessel upward and away from the docking port. As the pod turned, the vast hull of the Pioneer dominated the forward viewport, black scorch marks visible where ionic discharges had struck the massive starship.

"Contact the bridge!" Hans ordered his tactical officer, "Tell them to ready the shuttlebay for our arrival."

Levente nodded an acknowledgement, his fingers composing a short message on the console before transmitting it to the looming Earth vessel.

Holms glanced down at the two grey aliens that they'd liberated from the tender mercies of the Nausicans, and both beings stared back at him with their dark eyes.

Hopefully, these little humanoids would provide some answers once they were back aboard the Pioneer.