Nine
Transfer Nexus 321
17 September 2017
A tense mood permeated the cockpit of the Ladyhawke. The lights were dimmed, all control surfaces dialed down as low as possible while still being visible enough to use. Gabe and Apone stood opposite each other at the display table, watching the course as Adrian guided the starship through the star system toward the wrecked mass five astronomical units out from the system's star. Anyssa, Colonel Markson, Adrian and the Sorceress were all at their assigned stations, all grimly going about their tasks.
The muted lighting was not a requirement, but it did help not only to set the mood but kept everyone alert and looking for unseen threats. Adrian likened it to an alert status setting on submarines when the vessel entered a potential combat situation.
Nothing moved anywhere in the system save the tumbling pieces of debris from transports that had been crippled before boarding. Or simply blown apart if there was nothing useful onboard worth taking by force. Navigational hazards increased the closer the starship drew to the massive nexus complex.
This far out, the structure was hard to see as it stood between the Ladyhawke and the star. The corona of light surrounding the irregularly shaped structure occluded the debris between it and the starship. Miriam monitored the forward sensors and called out obstacles, often before the Sorceress could. Sorceress had quickly left that task to the AI, while she concentrated on the dead station.
Accurate readings of the station and the surrounding field of wreckage could normally have been made in a matter of minutes; however, Adrian cautiously cruised through the system with the MASC and visual cloaking systems engaged. The visual cloak necessitated using passive sensors to avoid revealing their presence to anyone who might still be lurking about.
Once within several hundred kilometers, the sensors picked out surface details clearly enough for Gabe to begin searching for an airlock. He located one that was still functional on the main structure.
Any terms for the sheer size of the installation were relative; no one on Earth had ever seen an artificial structure comparable to the size of what they approached. In simple mass, the transfer stations outweighed the crime family stations by an order of magnitude, as new sections were added on when traffic increased.
The original mass was much older than the surrounding pieces that had been attached later. Scans of the scarring on the hull plating indicated some of the damage was recent, while the majority dated over a century old.
Gabe found it hard to believe that structures like this were not simply replaced with newer stations, with the latest upgrades and technology, if the shipping routes were so vital. On viewing several scans, he was amazed that certain modules hadn't come entirely apart, considering their outward appearance.
Adrian, with Miriam doing the heavy lifting, guided the Ladyhawke into place next to the airlock. Armored plates split horizontally, swinging up and retracting to reveal the circular docking tube retracted into the hull. When the alignment between both was correct, tubes extended from both the starship and the station. The collision of metal on metal and the locking clamps engaging echoed through the corridors. Miriam confirmed the hard dock moments later.
Adrian and the Sorceress climbed out of their seats and headed aft. While Anyssa replaced Adrian at the pilot's controls and the others remained at their stations, the pair dropped down to the main corridor running the length of the starship and strode aft towards the airlocks situated almost amidships, where the wing assemblies that housed the weapons tapered back to the main hull. The port and starboard locks had been installed opposite each other for convenience.
Falcon and War Wing already stood waiting between the inner lock doors, having been moved into position earlier. The AIs opened for their operators to back into the "cockpit", then sealed around them. Certain sections were adjusted to make the suits airtight.
After checking the heads-up display for any discrepancies, Adrian eyed the icon to open the prearranged com channel. A small window appeared on the left with the image of the Sorceress. "All set?"
"Everything is green here," she answered.
"Um, I have a question," Colonel Markson said.
"Only one?" Sorceress returned, trying to hide a smirk.
Ignoring the jab, Markson continued. "In your rather lengthy report on the attack runs on the planetary cannon, you two stated you left the life support system activated when the Ladyhawke was dying."
Jon was referring to the part of the mission where the ship had been a low orbit around Etheria, waiting for the battlestar Defiant to return and literally catch them in the port side landing bay by use of magnetic grappler beams.
"What about it?" Adrian prodded, moving to the control panel on the right side of the port airlock hatch. At the touch of a button, the thick doors split down the middle, sliding smoothly into the wall recesses. The pair stepped inside, Adrian hitting the control to close it.
"I recall you saying the suits could be adjusted to become a vac suit when required, but when the starship was dying, you didn't use that function. Why?"
"We hadn't tried out that function before going into action during the unrest on Val-kyre," Adrian answered simply. There was nothing simple about the attempted coup on Val-kyre, but Adrian did not like to dwell on the incident.
"And here you are putting your faith in the technology."
"If we weren't sure we could keep our operators safe, we wouldn't be doing this," Falcon said before either person could. "People on your worlds may be cavalier about their lives, or the lives of theirs, but I can assure you that we are not!"
After a brief pause Jon said, "I'm good with that."
Shaking his head, Adrian stepped to the control panel for the outer hatch. He examined the readout showing the conditions beyond the barrier. The seal with the station was secure. Air could be pumped into the connecting tunnel if he chose to do so. Instead, he had the lock on their side emptied of air; before leaving the cockpit, Adrian had noted that much of the station was open to hard vacuum. Chances where good that the deck they were connected to was too severely damaged to hold pressure.
The sounds of air evacuating from the chamber gradually diminished down to nothing as a vacuum was achieved. When the light on the panel flashed from green to red, Adrian tapped a large button to open the outer doors. The hatch opened upon a darkened, reinforced tunnel leading to the station.
The 'eye' slits of their helmets normally lighted up to indicate the suits were powered up. The AIs increased the intensity to light up the immediate area. War Wing turned the left gauntlet energy blaster from the assault-mode weapon into a powerful light Adrian could aim wherever he needed to. Falcon materialized a twin light assembly on her left arm for her operator's use.
Leading the way, Adrian stepped into the connecting tube, their boots magnetized to keep them grounded on the deck plates. While the audio pickups would not catch the sounds of footsteps, they could feel each impact when the magnetic soles made contact.
They reached the other side within a minute, although their movements were carefully slow and somewhat exaggerated by the vacuum. Adrian checked the display panel, already knowing what he would find. The part of the station they were going to enter was indeed open to the vacuum of space. Emergency systems were still in operation, but the power grid had extensive damage.
"Miriam, close the outer lock hatch," Adrian ordered. Only when the AI had complied did he touch the control to open the hatch and access the station.
A rumbling vibration reverberated through the soles of their boots. The round hatch jerked and stuttered as it rolled back, seizing a little over halfway. Adrian managed to shove it another foot before it jammed permanently. Wing reported that the surrounding bulkheads had been warped, probably as a result of the attack. Sensor scans had identified major structural damage, so it was no surprise that hatches would jam. Hopefully that would not shorten their visit.
The Guardians squeezed through into the lock, manually released the inner hatch and rolled it aside. They exited the lock into a large block of intersecting corridors. The ones to the left and right were cut off by blast doors a hundred meters from the airlock, dropped in response to the assault, leaving the corridor ahead of them as the only way deeper into the dead station. At first, it had looked clear, but as the pair progressed, they found debris floating around.
Along with the occasional body, much to the Sorceress' dismay.
Death in vacuum was an ugly thing. The beings they came across had all died horribly. Truthfully, the sights also sent Adrian's stomach into fits, but he had to discover who attacked the station. He knew there was something here to find.
"Maybe you should go back," Adrian suggested.
"No," she answered, firmly. "I'm staying."
Adrian left it at that.
Exploration deeper into the structure revealed more of the same. They had to weave a path through the debris and blocked corridors in order to make any progress. The first signs of fighting were encountered several hundred meters in toward the core.
Something powerful had blasted its way through the deck. Peering down into the darkness, War Wing used soundwaves to map out the topography. He did the same through the melted hole in the ceiling. Although melted around the edges, the holes through the deck plates measured almost four feet across. The damage penetrated through at least seven decks, including the deck the Guardians were on.
"Well, that explains all the blast doors dropping in this area," Adrian commented.
"But not what caused this damage," Sorceress pointed out.
Adrian frowned. War Wing's battle form plasma blaster rifle could do this kind of damage, but the hole would have been a lot larger. Besides that, the battle form would not be able to navigate the corridors they had passed through. While they were fifteen feet wide, the ceiling was only ten feet. Too short for a battlesuit in battle mode.
Something else had done this damage. When asked, Miriam did not report an external damage relative to their location. That raised a more disturbing question. If the weapon that had cause this damage did so from deeper inside the station, then the enemy was more powerful overall than first suspected.
Adrian positioned himself at the edge of the hole, deactivated the magnetic fields in his boots and shoved himself feet-first down to the lower deck. He paused briefly to get the layout using soundings, then shoved off to the next deck. At the third level down, he decided to do some more investigating. He could not explain it, but Adrian had a feeling about this deck. Sorceress joined him moments later, though her landing was somewhat awkward. She had quickly discovered that flying in atmosphere in the form of a falcon was quite different than maneuvering in microgravity and vacuum.
They spread out in different directions, searching for some signs of the enemy who had attacked and destroyed the station. Damage in this area was much heavier than three decks above; it looked as though someone here had had weapons to defend the station with. There were scorch marks on the walls, deck and ceiling.
"Must have been a helluva fight," Adrian commented.
"We'll have to take your word for it," the colonel replied. "While the images are coming in clear, we can't see a whole lot."
Although Adrian had had the feeling they would find something on this deck, it was the Sorceress who found it. She called him over to a corridor that led toward the central core. It was blocked by an explosion that had weakened the ceiling, collapsing it in a twisted pile of metal wreckage thick enough to be impassible. That wasn't why the Sorceress had called him over.
A robot unlike anything either of them had ever even heard described lay trapped under the pile of beams and plating. Only the head and shoulders were visible, but there was enough for War Wing to extrapolate an approximate size of ten feet in height. The machine was quite dead. A structural beam through the chest tends to do that, if the AI's' soundings were accurate. The black surface of the thing seemed to soak up the illumination from their lights, making it hard to discern details. What little Adrian could see gave him the impression the robot was something one did not want to meet in broad daylight, much less in a dark alley.
Adrian turned off the light in the left gauntlet projector. The AI reconfigured it, snapping out a two-foot blue/white energy blade that cast weird, flickering shadows about the area. Adrian placed the shimmering edge against the right shoulder of the unknown robot. Wing had to ramp up the intensity when the blade did not immediately start melting through the armor.
"That's at maximum. If this takes too long, the projector will overheat," Wing advised. "It would appear that some of the energy is being deflected away."
Gabe chimed in, "Sounds like a refractive coating. Whoever created that thing didn't skimp on amenities." He was examining the detailed scans Falcon was taking and relaying back to the Ladyhawke.
Wing knew better than to keep pestering his operator with warnings or advisories. Instead, the AI threw the status of the projector up on the upper right of the heads-up display. The blade had cut through only half of the robot, but the stress on the projector approached the red line. Adrian pressed harder, forcing the energy blade through the resilient metal as fast as it would go. Alarms blared in his helmet as he forced the blade the last few inches through the shoulder. Finally, the blade melted through the last bit of stubborn armor and the section floated free.
Neither took the time to examine the innards, which were melted and distorted by the thermal-energy blade. They had the evidence Adrian had promised the three crime bosses. It was time to go before someone discovered their presence.
The nice thing about microgravity was the ease with which heavy objects could be moved about. All you had to do was overcome Newtonian physics and an object could be moved around. Adrian guided the cut section up and away from the pile of wreckage.
"Now all we have to do it get it back to the ship," Adrian commented. He did not relish pushing the piece of salvage all the way back.
Sorceress released an audible sigh. "Foolish mortal. Why do you think I stuck with you in the gruesome tomb?"
"Well, I'd like to think you prefer my charming company."
Gabe chimed in with a comment directed at the Sorceress. "You told me you were a sucker for hard-luck cases."
"Magic has its uses." The Sorceress raised left hand.
The shimmering oval portal that had become so familiar to her Earth friends formed a short distance away. Although he couldn't hear it in the vacuum, Adrian's mind filled in the characteristic hum such portals generated. A gentle, but firm shove propelled the salvage through the portal, the pair following it close behind.
Instead of crossing into the airlock as he expected, Adrian found himself standing on the platform in the forward cargo hold. The chunk of salvage lay nearby. He stooped to set it upright on the melted end and quickly discovered just how heavy even a small piece of that robot was -around two hundred pounds.
Gabe arrived in the hold as the pair were locking down the battlesuits, a satchel containing his tools of the trade slung across his chest. As soon as his feet touched the platform, Gabe's eyes locked on the prize, and he ignored everything and everyone else around him.
Pausing at the ladder, Adrian said to the scientist, "Now you can't say I never get you anything."
His back to the Guardian, Gabe waved the back of his right hand in response. The man was totally absorbed in plumbing the machine's secrets.
"A kid in a candy store," Sorceress said with a slight grin when Adrian joined her at the ladder to the upper deck.
"Yeah," Adrian replied, a wistful look in his eyes. "Some people never entirely grow up."
Stepping onto the ladder she said, "You are certainly evidence of that on occasion."
"And look how much richer your life has become as a result," he called up to her. "Admit it. Your life was downright boring sitting around in that musty old castle."
Sorceress paused just inside the cockpit and rounded on him. "I'll have you know Castle Grayskull is not musty. I have it cleaned on a regular basis."
Anyssa climbed out of the pilot's seat and returned to her station on the port side. Adrian and the Sorceress took their positions and prepared to detach from the dead transfer station.
Apone and the colonel watched from the display table. "Did you two get married when we weren't looking?" the grizzled gunnery sergeant growled. "Because you sure do bicker like a married couple."
In a testament to how quick-witted she could be. Sorceress immediately threw over her shoulder, "We're practicing! Leave us alone!"
"'Practicing for what?' is the question," Jon murmured.
Echoes of the docking clamps disengaging reverberated throughout the ship. Thrusters fired, pushing the starship away from the station, Miriam plotting the shortest possible outgoing path through the wreckage. Once clear, the Ladyhawke jumped to hyperspace on course for a Val-kyrie research station where the robot head could be properly examined.
Minutes into the flight, Anyssa frowned over her panel. Her quiet grunts drew Adrian's attention.
"Something?" Adrian prodded when the girl continued to work the controls.
"There is a general distress call going out on all emergency frequencies." Anyssa tapped several more controls. The signal was badly garbled, as if someone were blocking the transmission only enough to make it unintelligible rather than block it entirely.
Miriam announced, "Confirmed. I can barely pull the signal in. It appears to be partially jammed at the source."
"Partially jammed?" Apone echoed. "That doesn't make any sense."
"It does if our mysterious attackers are prepping for war, as our friend General Rongar thinks," the colonel said.
Anyssa snapped her head around. "They want someone to show up."
"Correct. Seems they are ready to advance to the next level."
Miriam had more information. "The distress call appears to be coming from Transfer Station 437. Time stamp shows the attack has been underway for a little under an hour."
"See what I mean?" Jon asked no one in particular. "Based on the scant information our crime friends provided, that entire area should be nothing but dead wrecks by now."
"Anyssa, any response to the distress call?" Adrian asked.
He ran the numbers through his mind. The transfer station was a bit out of the way, but not by much. And it was closer. Trouble is, what could one little starship overpowered and over-gunned for its size do against an enemy potentially fielding an ancient battlestar? At best, the Ladyhawke could take on warships up to cruisers. Maybe a battlecruiser if the crew was good enough to bring out the full capabilities of the starship.
They could get better scans of the enemy force than what the freighter captain had managed to get. That would mean sneaking in under MASC and cloak, get close enough to drop the cloak, take the scans and de-ass the area with the quickness. It would be easier if there was a response enroute.
"Nothing," Anyssa finally reported. "I can't get a response from Fleet Command. No sign that the Horde is mobilizing, yet."
Adrian didn't like the choices. There was nothing requiring him to divert there. But he did have a starship that could hold its own in standup fight -but it had its limits. However, a brief engagement would be a meter stick of the enemy's capabilities. Especially if they were using technology that was a thousand years out of date.
Jon walked up on the starboard side, placed his left foot on the sloped side of the flight pod and leaned on his knee. "So, what are we going to do?"
Everyone in the cockpit grew quiet awaiting Adrian's decision. Even Miriam restrained her usually blood-thirsty impulses.
"It looks like we're taking a little detour," Adrian finally announced.
The Sorceress had been updating the course change throughout the discussion. All she had to do was tap one control to set the change. The navigational computer took it from there.
No one would voice it, but every one of them hoped they weren't making a mistake heading into a potentially fatal firestorm.
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