2142 – Leaving Phobos
Jack flipped the comm. switch. “Supersonic? Status?”
The channel stayed silent for a moment, long enough that
Jack suddenly began to worry she had been sucked out of the ship through the
hole. Finally a small crackle of static washed across the line, and Sarah
responded. “It was a close one. We…” she stopped herself, mindful that the
Omegans were likely keeping ears on them, “were lucky. Could have been a lot
worse than it already is. We lost… a lot. But repairs will hold fine. We’re
spaceworthy.”
“Good to know. Finish up and return to station. Desperado
out.” Jack’s thoughts turned inward. He went through the mental checklist for
the mission, repeating the steps over and over in his head, fretting over the
near-disaster they had just experienced. No room for error, that was the
guiding principle at work, and yet it had almost literally blown up in their
faces at the starting line. “Not an auspicious start,” he whispered.
He looked around, watching his crew, and he could feel their
anxiety rippling through the air. Gina was drumming her fingers across her
console, while Ben was bouncing his leg uncontrollably, vibrating his entire
body. Kate leaned back in her seat, staring at the ceiling like it was an
enemy. Dr. Gray paced back and forth along the back wall. Sensing that he
needed to do something, Jack cleared his throat. “I don’t know about you all,
but I could use a beer.” That got a small laugh out of them, and Jack relaxed
for a moment. As he did, Sarah entered the bridge, carrying a small stack of
documents.
“Captain, my report on our situation.” She handed them to
him and stepped aside. Jack leafed through them slowly, taking time to absorb
the details of what he was seeing. Finally, he studied the last page and then
began to smile, nodding at her in acknowledgment.
He handed the stack to Gina who perused it skeptically at
first, but soon began to brighten. She passed it over to Kate who snorted and
uttered a short “I’ll be damned” before giving the documents to Ben. As he
finished, Wilma took them and read them intently.
“Wow,” she offered. “I can’t believe…”
“Understood, Doctor,” Jack cut her off. He stood up and
pointed forward. “Signal the Rea’Cerb that we’re ready to go. We have a date to
keep.”
J’rwa R’ybt strode onto the bridge of his ship, clearly not
a happy man. His officers snapped to attention and he moved briskly to take his
seat. “Helm! Status of enemy ship?”
“They have signaled readiness to depart.”
K’Darl moved to his commander’s side. “The Kan’Tar, my
commander?”
The warrior charged with the leadership of the Rea’Cerb
cracked his knuckles loudly. “The Kan’Tar forbids that ship’s destruction. That
was made… clear… to me. So we will fulfill our mission as stated.”
“Pity,” K’Darl replied.
“Yes. Pity.” R’ybt muttered, sinking deeper into his chair.
“For them.”
It shouldn’t have worked. The odds of it working were
ludicrous. The timing, the luck… no one in their right mind would have thought
it was a good idea, let alone an idea worth trying. Yet somehow it had.
The autopilot course had executed perfectly, plotting a path
through fire, debris, and a small amount of open space. Disabling life support
and every other system on board except for maneuvering thrusters and the
navigation computer left an electromagnetic signature that looked like
background dust and solar wind.
It shouldn’t have worked.
Yet wedged between a rear bulkhead and the engine housing of
the Rea’Cerb sat the War Angel’s shuttle. Magnetic clamps held it firmly in
place in an area where the ship’s own sensors would never look for it. It was,
Richard thought, an absolute miracle.
“Scratch that,” he caught himself. “Only the first part of a
miracle, assuming we can do this.” A small lurch pushed him back against the
pilot seat, and he realized that they had just kicked the ship back up to
speed. They were underway for the Kan’Tar.
He released himself the seat and made his way back into the
cargo hold. Looking over the material he had been entrusted with, he began to
break into a sweat. Three containers and three jobs… that was his entire world
at that moment. The one holding his baby, the tachyon scoop; that was easy. He
could re-attach it to the War Angel with ease, assuming he had a little privacy.
But the others? “Impossible” felt like the right word.
Container two’s lid slid off gently. Inside, Richard looked
at the War Angel’s main computer core. Everything truly important about the
ship, every piece of data that simply could not be allowed into the hands of
the Omegans, that was now in his possession, and if they were to escape their
upcoming predicament, Richard was going to have to find a way to get inside the
ship and reinstall that core, a process that takes hours.
“Like we’re going to have hours!” he said to himself,
breaking the silence in the shuttle.
Moving to the third container, he shook his head and began
swearing lightly. He sat down and rocked back and forth for a minute, wondering
just how the hell Jack had expected him to deal with this on top of everything
else. For a brief moment, Richard found himself thinking that he’d rather eat
the computer core than go anywhere near the contents of container three.
Finally, he stood and released the latches holding container three together.
The walls split and fell to the floor, revealing what was inside. He took a
deep breath and then pointed and spoke in his harshest tone.
“I. Hate. You.”
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