Never say it will never happen. No matter what the circumstances, it will never happen.
I'm saying never say never.
You think nobody is stupid enough to be outside a ship when it goes to hyperspace?
Nobody is stupid enough for it to happen by accident with all the safeties and protocol?
I'm here to tell you, some jackass will do it on purpose just to see what it is like. - Hyperdrive Mk 0 design board memo
The stars streak toward him, filling his vision. The middle went black and slowly spread out, the gaps between the streaks grew larger.
Color began filling them. Geometric shapes being hinted at. Swirling, flashing colors that sometimes streaked away and other times morphed and warped.
--DON'T LOOK DON'T LOOK DON'T LOOK-- was streaming down his visor, but by the halfway point it slid to the side and streaked away.
A screaming Telkan Marine in full power armor come out of the black, tumbling, and hit him, phased through him, merged with him.
He knew it was Xulrek, Second Squad, Third Platoon, Bravo Company, from Nevelstet-4.
More streaks. He saw at least three other screaming Telkan slam into/through/past/around him.
His suit went dead. The linkage from the M318 went dead.
He could hear himself breathing, hear tones and chimes and ringing and squeals.
--DON'T LOOK DON'T LOOK DON'T LOOK--
He could hear his heartbeat thudding in his chest.
He was suddenly falling, thrown backwards, still while the universe moved around him, thrown upwards, pulled to the right and left, pulled in two directions at the same time.
Pulled from everywhere all at once.
The stars came back with a grand crescendo of noise.
He vomited into his skull his brains leaking out his ears and from his eyebrows.
The music of the spheres went through his stunned brain.
He turned inside out and upside down.
His fur rubbed against each other as the vomit in his skull ran down the inside of his armor.
A burning white hot hook grabbed behind his nose and yanked him rightside in.
He was tumbling, falling, spinning. The stellar mass kept whipping by. He could see huge constructs on the distance.
Training pulled his arms and legs in, cradling the M318 close, as he moved to the fetal position.
He managed to get the bit in the middle of the funnel between his teeth in time.
He projectile vomited into the tube.
He was aware he'd lost control of his bladder and bowels.
He let go of the bit and whooped a big inhale, then started panting.
His suit was stifling, hot, the air too thin and stale at the same time.
Reflexes and instinct told him to paw at his faceplate. Pull it off. Get a deep breath. Yank his helmet off.
Training kept his hands still.
--hang on rebooting--
It wasn't the visor, it was appearing in the middle of his retinal link, the words jammed up and the spacing between letters too far as the letters merged together and bled together and ran down the inside of his iris to pool behind his lower eyelid and slowly slide out to slide down his face and
The suit went live for a second. The visor flashed white and went frosted.
The suit went dead.
--running checks--
The letters spiraled around each other, swirling and moving, then shrinking to a pinpoint before exploding out of his vision to stick on the inside of his visor and slowly drip down.
He managed to get the bit between his teeth in time to dry heave convulsively into the puke funnel.
He felt ghostly fingers plucking at his marrow. Red hot claws tickling his nerve endings in his joints. Ghostly taps against the inside of his eyeballs.
The suit went live.
Then died again.
--complete failure of anything not backup hardwired-- 8814 sent over the retinal link.
The words whirled and spun and he pressed his nose into the vomit funnel as he dry heaved again.
Stars, the stellar mass, impossibly huge objects, flashes, streaks, and discolored space filled his vision as his visor stayed clear. The light from the star seared his eyes, crisped his fur, scorched his soul.
He closed his eyes.
Training kicked in.
I am a Telkan Marine. I always maintain my arms, my equipment, and myself. I am an expert and I am a professional. I am the bulwark of the Confederacy. I stand ready to deploy, engage, and destroy, the enemies of the Confederacy. This I hereby swear upon my life.
He swallowed, getting control of his stomach.
I am Private First Class Jaskel, a Telkan Marine, the bulwark and armored fist of the Confederacy, he told himself.
The sip of water training demanded tasted like lilies soaked in raspberry jam.
My weapons, my training, my courage, my expertise keep the people of the Confederacy safe regardless of species, ethos, creed, or religion.
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
He swallowed another swig of tepid water.
It tasted like asphalt smelled.
War father protect me, guide my hands, steady my weapons systems and steel my greenie. Grant me the strength for one last stand, one last push, one last trigger pull, one last breath that I may be judged by my ancestors as worthy. Counted on the rolls among the honored dead. May my enemies burn in the fires of scarred Telkan, amen.
He could feel the strength, the sensation coming back to numbed limbs.
The suit rebooted.
The OS crashed.
But he could feel the slight tremor he'd never felt before that let him know his faithful suit wasn't completely dead.
--got atmo and life support most other systems down coding and os is hashed-- 8814 said.
"Can you hear me?" Jaskel asked. His voice was high, tight, from fear and stress and he cursed himself.
--yes--
"Did you take that hit?"
--no greenie shell housing stabilized for lots-- 8814 said over the link. --how about you you stared eternity everything nothing in the face--
"I think I threw up inside my skull," Jaskel said.
--biometrics shaky looks like died at least three times-- 8814 said. --what happened--
"Ship crew panicked. We had a good two hundred boarding stars heading for us and they rolled the ship," he said. He remembered the boarding tube shattering, the way the station started to tear apart as the ship's grav drive shredded the superstructure.
"They did an emergency jump to hyperspace before we could get onboard," Jaskel said. He felt fury well up. "They killed the whole battalion."
--trying to get commo up-- 8814 said. --sar beacon is pinging--
"Don't bother," he said.
The stellar mass slowly went across his visor, the smartfilm darkening it mechanically.
"There's nobody out here."
The stars went by.
His bone marrow and nerves were still being plucked and tapped.
--system is fried looks like complete os and vi and complex process activation model crash-- 8814 said. --going to have to wipe everything but hardwire and reload all software from cold storage--
"Well, we're not in any hurry," Jaskel said. He gave a wry chuckle that grave humor sucked dry. "I'll try to make sure we don't wake the neighbors."
--har har har--
Jaskel was glad he was wearing a standard assault suit, rather than the scout suit. Standard assault suits had their own reactor sets, all the way down to a zero-point backup. They were basically self-contained armored spaceships without any drives or thrusters.
"Who do you think the grey guys were?" Jaskel asked after a while.
--grey guys like the Greys-- 8814 said. --greys vanished everyone thinks were eaten by mar-gite--
"No, big gray ships. We're talking as big as one of those standard Mar-gite hive constructs," he said. "Well, I'd show you in the battle-WORM, but it fried out."
--maybe not battle-worm survive almost anything-- 8814 was silent for a minute. --ooh boy--
"What?" Jaskel said.
--nasty ships not recognize-- 8814 said. --but other problem--
"What?" he felt stupid, like he was constantly repeating things.
--rebooted radar so can keep meteor from hitting us rebooted sensors but on machine language data only translation libraries still decompressing from storage-- 8814 said. --bad news--
"Hit me," Jaskel said.
--we are out past gas giant-- 8814 replied.
"Great. So we're screwed. Just waiting for the power to fail and we die or we spend the next fifty years living off of nutripaste, recycled piss, and bad breath," Jaskel said, shaking his head.
There was silence for a while. He started panting as the heat rose. Sweat covered him. He kept taking drinks of the water but it tasted flat and like old motor oil and sweat, doing nothing for his thirst.
The fans kicked on, sputtered, died, then kicked on again at low speed.
--got enviro up more-- 8814 said. --gun dead but ammo forge working--
"Thanks. Was getting hot in here," Jaskel said.
--storing heat in thermal cores to use later so do not freeze to death--
"Good plan."
More silence. Jaskel just took a nap, relaxing. He knew a nap would help his body and mind heal from what he had just been through.
He dreamed of Telkan even though he had never been there.
A pinging woke him up.
--trouble-- 8814 said.
"We're out past the Oort Cloud and in the gulf between arms?" Jaskel guessed.
--system not have Oort Cloud-- 8814 said. --news may be worse may be better--
"We're in a system being overrun by the Mar-gite," Jaskel said.
--yes--
"The task force had to flee."
--yes--
"We were exposed, unprotected, to hyperspace entry."
--yes--
"Our suit failed and we fell off the ship after like a half-second."
--yes--
"We're past the gas giant and heading for the deep dark."
--yes--
"While the Mar-gite and an unknown force fight."
--yes--
"In a busted suit."
--yes--
"And our guns are dead."
--yes--
"All right. Hit me with the news."
--radar contact moving in--
"Not like we can do anything about it. Can you at least stop my spin?" Jaskel asked.
--sorry grav systems offline no eva thrusters--
"Well, there's nothing we can do about whatever they're doing so we might as well not stress out over it," Jaskel said. He gave a big sigh, still feeling the ghostly plucking at his bone marrow and scraping of tinsel over his nerves.
After a long moment he felt soft but unyielding hands cradle him, slowing down his rotation, bringing him to a 'stop' so the stars and the stellar mass weren't whipping across his vision.
After a moment, he could see bay doors go by as he was pulled into a ship's boarding bay. He could see painted lines and stenciled runes, floor decking, and definite technology.
"Well, at least it's not the Mar-gite," he said.
--watch bright side-- 8814 said.
As the doors closed he could feel the grip on him tighten slightly.
"Do we have any suit function?" Jaskel asked.
--negative lost limb control on third reboot--
He could tell the bay was repressurized by that slight change in clarity that always happened.
After a moment he felt the suit lifted. His faceplate went dark when something was put over it. He could tell he was being carried, but the ride was smooth. After a moment he was set down.
--something trying to link to suit-- 8814 said.
"Let it. Might as well see what they can do," he said.
After almost a full minute 8814 sent a string of emojis indicating shock and surprise.
--antiviral software os and suit was infected by malware and virii--
"Is it working?"
--cutting out suit functions like mobility-- 8814 said. --whoever it is they know suit encryption and suit code--
ASSUMING CONTROL appeared on his visor. FEAR NOT
"Oh, like that is reassuring," Jaskel said.
--just got locked out of control systems can still talk to you--
There was a long moment of silence.
Then his armor moved around him, standing him up. The visor cleared and he could see around him.
He was standing in what was obviously a medical bay. There were tables and gurneys, medical monitors, and the outline of a Telkan on one of the interactive 2.5D screens behind one of the tables. Another, smaller table had the outline of a greenie on the 2.5D screens next to it.
In front of him stood two obvious robots.
They were bipedal. Two arms, two legs, head on top of the torso that was half of the body mass. They were white plastic that was almost opaque but Jaskel could see electronics and robotics underneath the plastic plating. The coloration was weird, the edges were opaque white but it became more transparent toward the middle of the plates. The joints, waist, and neck had obvious robotics. The head was robotic with a blank white opaque plastic oval at the front.
As he watched, the oval on the front of the head seemed to suck inward, becoming contoured, with a nose, chin, cheeks, eye sockets, brow ridge. Two splits in the eye sockets opened to reveal lavender colored eyes. The mouth slit changed so that it had lips which parted to reveal white enamel teeth.
"That's... that's..." Jaskel stammered.
--a terran-- 8814 answered.
"YoU aR3 iN in IN in IN n33d oF MediCA-ca-ca-CAL aT-ten-10-TENti0n," the one on the left said.
The voice was made up of different words, syllables, sounds from different speakers. Some male, some female. Some spoke in a sigh, others harsh and aggressive.
Still others sounded like they were screaming.
Speaking Old Confederate Standard.
"y0U aR3 SUFFER-suffer-suFFER-SUFFERing hyperSPACE-ace-ace expOHzur3!" another said, the last part a shout. "YOUR-your-YOUR lifeSIGN-sign-SIGNs WIll TERminATE-terminate-Terminate-TERMINATE withOUT medICal atTENTion."
--these aren't terrans-- 8814 said. --sound like pawm--
"Oh, crap," Jaskel said.
"DO n0T b3-be-be-BE AFR1AD, T3Lkan-kan-kan-KAN! Do not-not-NOT FEAR **Man-**man-MAN-TID. YOu Ar3 AmoNG FRiend friend FRIENDS," the robot said, gesturing at the table.
--suit ejection triggered-- 8814 warned.
His suit cracked open as his neural plug disengaged. For a moment his knees gave out and he sagged/stumbled from the suit.
One of the robots caught him, surprisingly gentle.
"You are suffer-*suffer-*SUFFERing jumpshock-shock-SHOCK!" the robot said, guiding him to the bed.
Jaskel turned to look in time to see another robot gently catch 8814 when the engineer protective housing opened and the diminutive green mantid poured out with the kinetic shock gel.
The robots laid him onto the bed and stood beside his bed.
"Who," he licked suddenly dry lips. "Who are you?"
The robot leaned forward slightly.
"We are-are-ARE humanity."
"shit"