The Terran Representative (7 page)

We sat in small debriefing room. It surprised me that the
Omanix
had enough space dedicated to having a table, chairs, projection system and nothing else. Baron told me it was meant for officers to convene away from the enlisted, but she almost never used it. I could understand why as her large frame took up almost half of the table space and three chairs.

Wards dimmed the lights and brought up a 3D representation of a moon. It floated in the middle of the table and spun slightly. Twilight-strength light from it glowed and lit everyone’s face. It reminded me of the light and shadow cast from a campfire.

“Using Terran records we have narrowed down the number of colonial spots,” said Wards. “Based off of data gathered from a cooperative effort between the Confederacy and The Hive we were able to determine that seven potential sites do not have detectable levels of the heavy particles associated with a ship traveling through a trans-dimensional rift.”

Baron motioned to the moon floating in front of us. “Why are we heading towards this moon?”

“Because,” said Wards, “this moon is in disputed territory between the Vantagax and the Confederacy.” She glanced towards Baron who had leaned back in her chairs, arms crossed over her chest, seams on her uniform straining. “Three of the sites are within Confederacy space, two within The Hive’s sphere of influence, one within Vantagax territory and,” said Wards, gesturing at the moon floating in front of us, “this one in disputed territory.”

“At least you aren’t planning on having us head into an enemy system,” rumbled Baron. “Even though I’ve been ordered to assist in any way possible it’s still my ship.” She leaned forward. Her chairs groaned with the effort. She put one forearm on the conference table. It too protested. “Why are we headed to a moon in a zone where we might get into a firefight?”

Wards nodded towards Chare who cleared his throat. He opened his mouth then closed it when Baron turned her gaze from Wards to him. He put his fist in front of his mouth and cleared his throat again.

“Based off of our readings taken throughout the Sol System,” Chare said, “and the study of the particle decay combined with…“ Chare trailed off and gulped as Baron tapped one of her claws on the tabletop. It made a small indentation that caught the light from the representation.

“We’ve detected a stream of heavy particles,” he said, motioning to the spinning moon, “that I believe are precursors to a rift opening.” He wiped his brow and gulped again.

“We’re monitoring the other sites just in case,” said Wards. “We feel that this moon is our best chance to catch Admiral Kaur and her fleet entering our dimension.”

“And what happens if Kaur shows up?” I said. We were one ship, and I knew Kaur had left with colonial ships but who knows what they’d been modified into during their time in the other dimension.

“We alert the higher ups. We sit back and assess the situation. We don’t contact them. We don’t get involved,” said Wards.

“And if we’re attacked?” said Baron.

“We run,” said Wards. “We aren’t in this for a fight. We already know Kaur’s fleet is dangerous, and I can guarantee you we’ll be outgunned.”

“What about Vantagax?” said Baron.

Wards shrugged. “There wasn’t a specific direction, but we’re at war heading into disputed territory. We have orders to be there. Use your discretion, Captain.”

Baron nodded. “Good,” she mumbled and stood. Her chairs fell backwards, but she didn’t seem to notice. “That is an arrangement I can live with.”

The rest of us stood. I took a deep breath. This was the closest I’d been to the colonists since being put into my cryo-chamber. The anticipation of finding them almost outweighed the anxiety of what we might find.

The ship pitched.

I went sprawling over the table, landing in a heap on the floor as klaxons blared. The lights went off then red emergency lights replaced them. I had just long enough to think it was a funny coincidence that the Vantagax and Confederacy had the same warning system before something sent vibrations shuddering through the room.

Baron had slammed the claws of one hand into the wall. She anchored herself in spot and spoke in a calm, authoritative tone. “Report.”

I pulled myself up from the ground as another round of vibrations came through. Crew members could be heard yelling outside the door. Footsteps thundered past.

“A Vantagax vessel has attacked, Captain.” The reply came from the room’s speaker system.

“We’re in Confederacy territory,” said Baron. She spoke with a mix of anger and disbelief.

Wards and I exchanged looks. She grabbed my arm and began pulling me towards the room’s exit. “It’s General Braxa,” she said. “It’s got to be.”

The smell of smoke began drifting into the room through the air circulation system. Chare pulled himself up from the ground. A large gash across his forehead spilled blood down his face.

“We’ve lost engines.” The speakers crackled and popped. The sound of an explosion and screams came over the intercom system.

Wards pulled me to the doors. They didn’t open. She threw open a panel along the wall and pulled a lever, cracking the doors apart a fraction of an inch. Baron slammed her claws into the gap and levered the doors apart enough to stick an entire hand through. With a grunt she slammed the door open.

The hallway filled with smoke. The fire suppressant system sputtered and failed to put out any flames. I saw vague shapes in the smoke. Some were hunched over and moving along the walls. Others were on the ground, still.

Wards pulled open an emergency hatch. She reached inside and tossed me a suit. Without hesitating I put it on, trying to avoid breathing in the smoke as much as I could. I fastened the suit’s helmet and with greedy gulps sucked in clean air. Wards had her suit on, but Chare struggled to get into his. He couldn’t fasten it around his midsection.

Baron stood at a screen affixed in the wall. She ground her teeth between coughing fits as she pounded away at the buttons.

“Engines down,” she said. “Bridge targeted and destroyed. Weapons inoperable. Half the crew sent into vacuum without suits.”

Chare yelled and ripped his suit off. He threw it to the ground and looked around. “Where are the P’you suits?” said Chare. He doubled over coughing. His eyes watered, matting the fur to his face.

Baron slammed her fist into the screen. She leaned her head back and yelled, “Abandon ship. Abandon ship.”

Her order came in a split second later over my suit’s intercom, the beginning of it overlapping the end of her original statement. Wards nodded to me and pointed down the hallway. A way marker popped up on my HUD with a tag: Escape pods.

Baron grabbed Chare by the shoulder. She dragged him down the hallway in the opposite direction of the way marker. Wards slapped my arm.

“We’ve got to go,” she said.

I looked back down the hallway at the lumbering shadow disappearing into the smoke. Baron knew what to do.

“Okay,” I said to Wards. “Let’s go.”

Wards took off into the smoke. She appeared on my HUD as a green outline. Periodically she’d turn around and look back at me. I knew she could outpace me. It felt comforting knowing that she wasn’t.

The escape pod tag continued to blink ahead of us. The distance ticked down as we got closer. As we ran we were joined by other members of the crew. Some had on emergency suits while others were protected only by an arm over their mouth to try and filter out the smoke. None appeared to be uninjured. Out of everyone in our little herd Wards and I looked to be in the best shape.

The ship shuttered, and we stumbled as it began to list to one side. Wards continued without missing a beat. A crew member stumbled and fell into me. We tangled limbs and started to go down. I felt hands grab me under my armpits and heft me. My feet dragged for a bit, but I managed to get my legs back under me and took off running again. The crewmember who helped nodded once and we continued.

Most hallways we passed were obscured with smoke. I could hear yelling and shouting as we ran by them. Some had screaming and moaning of the injured.

I winced at the realization that those sounds had become familiar to me. Escaping a ship had become familiar. Running from another attack had become familiar. My heartbeat wasn’t elevated because of fear. It was elevated because I ran. My body wasn’t drenched with sweat because of panic. It was drenched because of the heat and exertion. Escaping a dying ship had become the new normal of my life.

We turned a corner andfell to the ground in a jumbled tangle of arms and legs. Three Vantagax had run from a side corridor straight into us. Wards separated herself and pulled me away, flinging me behind her with little effort. One of the Vantagax screeched in surprise as Wards opened fire with her arm cannon. The three died without firing a shot.

“Boarding party,” said Wards. Her tone was cold and straight to the point. She jumped over the bodies and continued moving forward.

We heard more screeching behind us and small arms fire. Some of the
Omanix
crew returned fire with their arm cannons. Someone cried out in pain and fell with a thump. I looked behind me as one of the crew members rushed back to help. The Vantagax continued to shoot and both crew members were cut down. Their tattered corpses streamed blood onto the floor.

“Don’t stop,” said Wards. “You stop to help you’ll die.” She continued to rush forward at the head of the pack.

“But what about the injured?” I said. The whomph of arm cannons mixed with the cracks of the Vantagax rifles echoed down the passages. Unintelligible yelling filled the empty space between shooting. Our herd had gotten much smaller as some had been injured and others had gotten involved with the fighting.

“I don’t care about the injured,” said Wards. Her words fought against her breathing, which came labored, almost panting. “I have to get you off this ship.”

We ran past a makeshift barrier thrown together with pieces of fallen bulkhead and wall material.
Omanix
crew members popped their heads above the top then pulled them back down and fired without aiming. Dead Vantagax and
Omanix
crew alike littered the floor. Some were propped against the walls. Others were splayed on the floor where they had fallen. A few were splattered across multiple surfaces. One Vantagax must have materialized in a wall after Traveling. Its arms, legs and parts of its torso protruded from the plastic.

The
Omanix
shook and rattled. It felt like something punched it. Another punching shudder followed in quick succession. My body became lighter, and my feet came off the ground. I started to careen out of control as my forward motion took me towards a wall.

“Gravity,” said Wards “The ship’s lost gravity.” I heard her take in a shaky breath. “We have to get to the escape pods.” It sounded like she spoke to remind herself as much as me. For the first time she sounded scared. A trickle of fear began to seep through.

The world went silent. I felt a sucking sensation and reached for the nearest thing to hang on to. Time slowed down. The ship, piece by piece like a jigsaw puzzle coming apart, dislodged around me. It traveled away into the darkness of space. A section of the ship’s air circulation system pulled out of the wall. It slammed into Wards, sending her spinning end over end. Her body slammed into a piece of hull, and she spun away bent in half, backwards. Other members of our herd flew past me. Their hands grasped for something, anything to grab, and I saw the panicked look on their faces as they went by, the realization that they were going to die in a few seconds not yet comprehended.

The muscles in my arms cried for relief. They screamed in burning pain. I felt my grip weakening. My suit strained to assist in keeping me onboard the
Omanix
. I focused all of my energy, all of my pain and newfound fear of being sucked into the emptiness of space, into holding onto my piece of the ship as the vacuum sucked out the atmosphere and everything else with it. I focused it into my hands, into my fingers and forearms, my biceps and triceps. As my body whipped in the storm of decompression, as everything around me bounced and rolled and tore and departed, I spent every bit of energy I had keeping myself from joining the debris cloud.

I failed, and I spun. End over end I went into the vacuum. Centrifugal force spun me into the back of my ill-fitting suit. I rattled around in my shell as the stars streaked by. Whatever luck I had left prevented me from coating my visor with my most recent meal.

My suit fired small stabilizing jets. The spinning slowed and then came to a halt. The stars stopped streaking by, and I got a firsthand view of the system we were traveling through. If there was a ship to have gone back to I might have enjoyed the scenery, but bits of the
Omanix
continued to hurtle past me.

I ordered my suit to turn me towards the chaos. I needed to see what had happened. Small jets puffed me around and into a point of reference where the ships and I were both standing “up”. I thought I could jet myself back to the
Omanix
and get on board, but I needed to know what obstacles I faced ahead.

“No,” I whispered. My chest tightened, and my stomach dropped.

The
Omanix
was broken into three main pieces. Debris from the ship floated in a large cloud. Corpses of both the
Omanix
crew and Vantagax boarding parties bumped around in the tangled mess. The debris cloud continued to expand and push out as small explosions rippled across the corvette’s surface.