Starship Revenant (The Galactic Wars Book 3) (8 page)

N
arrow beams
of emergency lighting lit the corridors. They flickered randomly—some type of power anomaly. Despite the lighting, plenty of dark shadows remained throughout the ship.

The gas and dust particles of the nebula allowed the low frequency rumble of the electrical storm to cascade through the
Revenant
. Random bursts of thunder rattled the ship. Combined with the creaking and groaning of the vessel, it made for a creepy feeling.

Zoey and Mitch descended the ladders to the hangar deck—all of the fighters were gone. The hangar deck had the capacity to store a hundred. There were no shuttles or troop transports. There wasn’t a single craft left on the
Revenant
. Zoey felt an ominous sense of foreboding wash over her. She was more curious than ever about what really had happened here.

They marched from the hanger deck toward the engineering compartment. Both of them were starting to get the willies aboard this ship. Neither one of them wanted to spend any more time aboard than necessary. Zoey was getting the feeling that something bad happened here. And she figured the less she knew about it the better.

“We should really start heading back now,” Mitch said. “We’ve got less than 45 minutes of oxygen left.”

“I just want to see what condition the engines are in.”

“I don’t think we have time for that.”

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she was thinking if she just gathered all the necessary information, she might not have to come back on board.

They were on deck 2, compartment 143. Even on a fully operational destroyer, this was a creepy place to be. Only nuclear techs and engineers came down this way.

The hatch ahead of them was closed—many of the hatches they encountered had been. Zoey pressed the button on the bulkhead, and the hatch slid open. They took several steps into the passageway. The hatch slammed closed behind them—all by itself. It made them both practically jump out of their skin.

“What the fuck?” Mitch gasped for breath.

“Relax. There’s some kind of glitch in the electrical system. It’s no big deal.” Zoey said the words to comfort herself as much as she did Mitch. Her heart was pounding in her chest.

The emergency lighting flickered for a moment.

Zoey and Mitch shared an ominous glance.

She took another step and the lights went out completely. It was pitch black until she could illuminate her helmet lighting.

Mitch moved back to the hatch and pressed the access button on the bulkhead. But the hatch didn’t open. He mashed it repeatedly.

Still nothing.

He was starting to panic. His face was dripping with sweat, and the color had washed from his skin.

Zoey grabbed onto his arm. “Mitch. Pull it together.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Maybe you haven’t noticed, but we’re stuck in this fucking hallway.”

Zoey tried to remain calm. She took a deep breath. “No. We are not stuck. We are going to walk down to the next section and open the hatch.”

It was an optimistic thought. But in the back of her mind she couldn’t help but start to worry that Mitch might just be right.

They clanked down the corridor, feeling more and more claustrophobic with each step. Zoey’s visor was pretty well fogged by now. The defrost system in the suit either wasn’t working, or was woefully inadequate. It only added to the closed-in feeling that the dark passageways evoked. By the time she reached the second hatch, she was covered in sweat.

She mashed the button on the bulkhead and nothing happened.

“Just a glitch huh?” Mitch’s brow furrowed.

Zoey hit the button a few more times. Still nothing. She freaked out a little bit and started kicking the hatch.

“Weren’t you just saying to remain calm?”

Zoey inhaled deeply, held her breath for a few seconds, then exhaled slowly. She repeated the process a few times. It was a technique she often used to calm herself down. Sort of like a mini-meditation session. Controlling your breathing is the first step to controlling anxiety.

Zoey had never really considered herself claustrophobic. She had been in many tight spots before. But something about the ship was getting to her. Crawling under her skin and ruffling her nerves.

It reminded her of going into a creepy fun house as a child. The distorted walls, the warped mirrors, the unnavigable mazes. There was something about traveling carnivals that creeped her out. The smell of moldy canvas tents. Poorly maintained rides. Charlatan fortunetellers. The sensation came rushing back to her.

“We are not stuck,” she repeated. “This is just a temporary setback.”

“It’s going to be a permanent setback if we don’t get out of here before we run out of oxygen.”

There was no other way out of the corridor.

“Maybe there’s a short in the wiring.”

“You got a screwdriver? We need to get the access panel off so I can get to the wiring.”

“Yeah, hang on while I pull a screw driver out of my ass.”

Zoey scowled at him.

There was no way she was going to get the faceplate off the access control panel without a screwdriver, or some kind of tool. The thick bulky gloves of the spacesuit made it almost impossible to do any fine dexterous work with your fingers.

Zoey scanned the passageway for anything that might be used to pry off the faceplate. Even if she could get the faceplate free, there was no guarantee that messing with the wiring inside was going to do any good.

The HUD in her helmet gave a readout of her vital statistics. Heart rate: 96. Blood pressure: 140/92. 32 minutes of oxygen remaining.

The oxygen sensor changed as it recalibrated to her increased heart rate and respiration.

29 minutes remaining.

Z
oey tried
several times to get in touch with Declan on the
Zephyr
, but all she ever got was static. She and Mitch had tried to force open the hatches, but they were unsuccessful. They looked for a ventilation shaft to crawl through, but there was nothing large enough in this particular compartment.

With 15 minutes of oxygen remaining, she had all but resigned herself to the fact that she was never getting out of this hallway. “I always thought I’d go out in a blaze of glory in the cockpit of a
Stingray
, not gasping for my last breath in a hallway.”

“You know, we could make our last few moments count.” Mitch had a lascivious glint in his eyes.

She stared at him, incredulous. “In a few moments we’re going to suffocate. It’s going to be a horrible death. And sex is the only thing you can think about?”

“Pretty much.”

“Sorry. If I’m going to die, I’d like to maintain my dignity.”

“So, would a quick tug be out of the question?”

Zoey rolled her eyes.

“Hey, you can’t blame a guy for trying.”

The ship rumbled and groaned again. Thunder boomed from the electrical storm in the nebula. The emergency lighting flickered on. An instant later, both hatches at either end of the corridor slid open.

It seemed like a miracle.

Zoey’s eyes widened. “Come on, lets go!”

She sprang to her feet and raced down the corridor. Mitch followed behind her, their boots clanking against the deck.

They huffed and puffed as they sprinted through the maze of passageways to the airlock on the other side of the
Revenant
. Running only burned oxygen faster.

By the time they reached the airlock, there were only 3 minutes of oxygen left. Zoey sealed the inner airlock hatch behind them, depressurized what little atmosphere had built up, then opened the outer hatch.

Several metallic pings, emanating from the outer hull, echoed through the airlock. It was a hailstorm of small meteors, no larger than a golf ball. They zipped past the open hatch. They weren’t large enough to damage either ship, but they would tear through flesh like paper.

“Ladies first,” Mitch said.

Zoey waited until the last meteor had passed. The peppering of the hull stopped. It seemed clear, but there was no way to tell if more were coming. She didn’t have much of a choice. She didn’t have the luxury of waiting for too much longer.

Zoey latched the safety cable to her suit and grabbed onto the tether wire. She could feel the air getting thin. Her chest heaved with deep breaths, but it didn’t seem to satiate her need for oxygen. She began to feel light headed. Was the display reading properly, she wondered? Was she already out of oxygen and just re-breathing her own CO2?

She pulled herself into space and glided across the wire, pulling fist over fist. Looking out over the nebula was almost dizzying. Her heart was pounding, and her lungs were starting to burn.

Another small meteor zipped within inches of her visor. If she’d had crawled out on to the tether just a few seconds sooner, she’d be dead. Life comes down to moments.

She finally reached the
Zephyr’s
airlock. Once inside, she disconnected the safety cable and waited for Mitch. He wasn’t far behind her, but it seemed like an eternity. She couldn’t seal and pressurize the airlock until he made it across.

Zoey was moments from passing out. She felt her eyes grow heavy and her vision dim.

Mitch pulled himself into the airlock and closed the hatch behind him. He pressed a button on the bulkhead and pressurized the compartment. It only took 30 seconds to pressurize, but when you have no oxygen left, 30 seconds can be eons.

Zoey tore off her helmet and gasped for breath. Her chest heaved, and her lungs expanded. She hunched over on her knees and sucked in several fresh breaths before she could spit out a word. “The oxygen meter isn’t working on this suit.”

“I forgot to mention the gauges aren’t exactly spot on.”

Zoey scowled at him, still light headed.

The two changed out of their suits. Mitch didn’t even try to ogle Zoey. He was just thankful to be alive. The only thought running through his mind was that he never wanted to go back on that ship again.

They staggered up to the cockpit.

8-Ball was relieved to see Zoey alive and in one piece. He tried to contain his joy.

“What the hell happened?” Declan said. “We were starting to get worried about you two.”

“Yeah, Brody thought you two might have eloped,” Jaxon said.

Zoey flipped him off.

“What condition is the ship in?” Declan asked.

Zoey gave him a rundown of the situation.

“Are the engines operational?” Declan asked.

“I don’t know. The diagnostic that I ran didn’t detect any faults, but I can’t get them online. The ship’s reactors went into standby mode at some point in time. I tried to power them up, but they wouldn’t respond.”

“What do you mean, they wouldn’t respond?” Declan said.

“Look, I’m not a nuclear tech. The reactor cores need to reach temperatures of over a million degrees to convert the hydrogen to plasma. Only then can a sustained chain reaction occur.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know. Maybe there’s not enough juice in the reserve power cells to make the reactor critical. All the diagnostics I’ve run show no faults within the system.”

“We’ve got another problem,” Violet said. “The
Revenant’s
orbit is decaying. I’ve been monitoring our trajectory since we’ve been docked.

“How long?” Declan asked.

“48 hours, give or take. Then she’ll end up as a twisted heap of metal on the proto-planet at the center of this nebula.”

“Can’t we just tow her out?” Jaxon asked.

“We don’t have enough power to break her out of orbit,” Declan said.

“I’m not letting my share of a trillion credits burn up in the atmosphere of some primordial rock,” Jaxon said.

“Maybe you can get out and push the fucker,” Zoey quipped.

Jaxon scowled at her.

“Brody, give the reactors a look and see if you can figure anything out,” Declan said.

“Aye, sir.”

“Those are pretty sophisticated pieces of equipment,” Zoey said.

“I know what I’m doing,” Brody said, squinting at her.

“Brody served six years as a Naval Reactor Engineer aboard the
USS Hamilton
,” Declan said. “He knows his way around a reactor and an ion drive. Mitch, Jaxon… work on shoring up the hull. I want that thing tip top.”

“I’m not going back on that ship” said Mitch.

Declan’s face tensed.

“What, you scared?” Brody said, baby talking him.

“You want your share of what’s she’s worth, you’ll get back on board and do your job.” Declan looked over the misfit crew. “Start loading the gear on board. Violet, supervise and keep everyone on pace. Look into the code, see if you can find a software glitch or something that explains the issues with the power grid and the reactors. We’ve got 48 hours, I want it done in 24.”

“Aye, sir,” Violet said.

“Why does she always get to
supervise
?” Mitch whined.

“Because I’m smarter than you.” Violet smiled.

“That’s not saying much,” Jaxon said.

“Eat me.” Mitch glared at him. “Oh, I’m sorry, you might actually like that.”

Jaxon’s nostrils flared, and he clenched his jaw. He could dish it out, but he couldn’t take it. “Careful, little man.”

“Knock it off.” Declan shouted. “We’ve got a lot of work to do, and it ain’t going to get done by itself.”

T
he crew loaded
their gear onto the
Revenant
, ferrying it across the tethered guide wire. Jaxon took his M729, just as a precaution.

Mitch and Zoey kept an eye out for stray meteors as they crossed.

By the time everyone was aboard the ship, there were 46 hours left until estimated impact with the proto-planet.

Brody knelt down to one of the cases they had brought over with the equipment. It was a pet transporter, and Max was inside.

Declan’s face tightened. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I thought he might like a little change of scenery,” Brody said. “The atmosphere in here is almost normal.”

“Take him back.” Declan was seething. His face was turning red.

“He never gets off that ship. Let him run around this place for a little bit.”

“We don’t know the first thing about this ship. It may not be safe.”

“Oh, right, fuck us… but God forbid something happens to Max.”

“Hey, fuck you. Max is family.”

Brody raised his brow. He looked a little hurt by the comment. “I love the little guy as much as you do, alright? He’s gonna be fine. I’ll make sure of it.”

Declan glared at Brody. “If anything happens to him, I swear to God…”

The ship creaked and groaned. Emergency lighting still flickered randomly.

“If anybody needs me, I’ll be in the reactor control room,” Brody said. He turned his gaze to Mitch. “Flickering lights don’t scare me.”

Mitch scowled at Brody as he brushed passed.

“Where’s the captain’s quarters?” Declan asked. “Maybe he left some written logs. Anything that might give us a heads up on what happened here.”

“I’ll show you,” Zoey said.

“Let’s be fast and efficient, people,” Declan said. He grabbed Max’s transport case.

Jaxon and Mitch headed toward the hull breach, lugging the repair gear. Violet went to the CIC to evaluate the ship’s operating system. 8-Ball tagged along with Declan and Zoey as they navigated the maze of passageways toward the captain’s stateroom.

Something caught Declan’s eye in one of the corridors. He stopped and leaned in to examine the bulkhead. Zoey thought he might be hallucinating at first. She stepped closer to see for herself. If it was a hallucination, all three of them were seeing it—there were bullet holes and blast marks in the metal.

Declan rubbed his gloved fingertip over one of the holes. “Looks like some type of skirmish took place.”

8-Ball and Zoey exchanged a wary glance, then Zoey continued on through the passageway. Several empty shell casings were scattered about, farther down the corridor. She knelt down and picked one up. It was a standard issue 5.56 mm round.
Koenig Haas
, the manufacturer, was stamped on the bottom of the spent casing.

Her big eyes stared at it for a moment. What the hell had happened here, she wondered? She squeezed the casing, just to make sure it was real.

“Let’s keep moving,” Declan said. He moseyed down the corridor, carrying Max’s case.

Zoey stood up. The casing pinged across the deck as she dropped it.

They pushed on and reached the captain’s quarters. It was exactly the same as Slade’s stateroom aboard the
Scorpion
, only with different appointments. A bed, a living area, a desk, a kitchenette.

Declan’s eyes gleamed as he saw several bottles of liquor. He picked up the bottles, perusing through the labels. He stopped when he found one that suited his fancy. “Now this was a man after my own heart.”

He was holding a bottle of McMillan 1939 scotch like it was a baby. It had come all the way from Earth, and was considered rare even back in the 20th century. Several hundred years later, and billions of miles across the galaxy, the bottle had to be priceless.

“This right here makes the whole trip worth it,” Declan said.

He ogled the bottle. Declan hadn’t had a drink in ten years. But a bottle of McMillan seemed too good to pass up. It would be almost sacrilegious, he thought, not to have at least a sip. He stared at the bottle, long and hard. He imagined the warm rich flavor dancing across his tastebuds. The sublime sensation of the onset of a buzz.

He wanted to crack it open right then and there. But he set it back on the shelf. He eyed Zoey and 8-Ball suspiciously. “Hands off. I’m coming back for this.”

“Technically, you’ve got to split that seven ways,” Zoey said.

Declan glared at her.

“Just keeping you honest.” Zoey flashed a sardonic smile.

They rummaged through the desk drawers, the bookshelves, and storage lockers. There was no sign of a personal log, or journal.

Max watched from his transport case that was perched atop the captain’s bed.

In another part of the ship, Brody marched aft toward the reactor room. It had been a long time since he’d been aboard a destroyer. It made him a little nostalgic. The
Revenant
was mentioned in every history text relating to the first Verge War. Along with Captain Slade’s heroics, every school kid learned about the
Revenant
. Now he was walking its halls.

The flickering lights didn’t bother him. He wasn’t afraid of the dark. He didn’t get claustrophobic. None of those things made the hairs on the back of his neck stand tall. It was the voice that he heard that did that. It sent a shiver down his spine.

“Brody…”

He spun around to see who had called his name—the eerie whisper of a woman’s voice. But no one was there. His eyes were wide, and his breathing grew heavy. His heart was thumping.

He shook it off and spun back around toward engineering and the reactors. It could have been anything—his mind playing tricks on him.

He recognized the sound of the voice, and there was no way that person could be speaking to him. She had been dead for a year now.

After a few steps, he heard the whisper again. “Brody…”

He nearly jumped out of his skin. He could feel her breath against the back of his neck. He spun around and scanned the corridor behind him. The lights flickered, but nothing was there.

Brody activated his comm system. “Alright, knock it off.”

“What’s the matter, Brody,” Mitch crackled back. “You getting spooked?”

“Shut your ass, Donut. Who’s the practical joker?”

“I don’t know what your talking about, Cupcake.”

Brody could hear Mitch and Jaxon snicker over the comm line. He gritted his teeth. “Keep it up. Next time I see you I’m gonna put my foot in your ass.”

Brody turned around, and his flashlight beamed across a dead and decaying woman’s body standing before him. It was hideous and grotesque. Rotten flesh, eroding and sloughing from the bone. Festering, oozing sores.

Brody shrieked and fell back against the deck.

The woman’s eerie voice filled his ears. “Why, Brody? Why…?”

When he looked up again, she was gone.

By this time, Brody’s visor was beginning to fog. On his heads up display, all his vital statistics were elevated.

He looked at the empty hallway, bewildered. He blinked his eyes, skeptical of what he had seen.

Brody was huffing and puffing like he had just sprinted a mile. He pulled himself off the deck and tried to regain his composure.

The emergency lighting flickered and went out completely.

Oh, dear God, don’t let me see that woman again
, he prayed.