Captain Lee Everts had a lot to be thankful for, he reflected. That he was alive one one big plus of course. But that Ensign Liu was still breathing was another. Wouldn't do to have her go and die before he got that commendation sent off, now would it?
Broken ribs, now those weren't so nice. Sure, being alive to grouse about broken ribs was better than the alternative, but while he was wishing couldn't there be a few less of those? Despite being saved by that mattress- the combined velocity of the ship and his profligate use of suit thrusters would have been somewhat less than perfectly survivable, he thought- despite that, there was the ribs. And some nasty bruises otherwise, but never mind those. What he needed now was a way out. Because there was no going back the way they’d gotten in.
The corridor ran fore and aft through the derelict, littered with the debris of the battle that killed her. The violent impact that had created the hole his ship was even now hiding in- from what, he wasn’t sure yet- had also buckled deck plates, exposed wiring conduits, and shattered pipes, making the choice of direction simple: forward was completely blocked by wreckage, aft was at least somewhat clear. He decided to check back on Ensign Liu before heading out, though. Air he had almost a day left of. Plenty of time there. Power for the suit lights was somewhat more limited.
He ducked back through the hatch to find fingers of light reaching out form the maintenance closet across the hold. That was a good thing- either Liu was awake, or rescuers had found them. From this angle, he could also see a suited figure, dead obviously, sprawled behind a crate. By its gloved hand was a boarding pistol with the slide locked back.
Boarding weapons had changed over the past seventy years since the exodus, but the basic function was the same: put holes in whoever boarded you without putting holes in the thick hull plating. They utilized expanding or fragmenting ammunition once the outer shell punched through light armor or flesh. Marine shotguns and short rifles could fire heavier projectiles, more suitable for taking down heavier armored foes, or punching through the less massive interior bulkheads at need.
Everts wondered when the ship had been boarded- before the shot that killed her, or after, as the crew rushed to escape pods? Such things had occurred before, according to the reports he’d read. The bugs were by turns mindless and shrewd. Sometimes they sent their version of marines into dying ships for some reason that command had thus far declined to share with the commanding officers of lowly scout ships, if they even knew.
“Bad luck, mate. May your soul have found peace among the eternal stars, and your kin find closure crewman...” he peered at the name tag on the suit. “Baaltu.” The corpse remained silent, it's gloved hand reaching towards the pistol as if offering it to him.
He picked it up. The magazine release was in the same spot as he remembered from his early training. It was empty, but a similar magazine lay on the deck, along with a magnetic pouch with a few extras and some loose rounds. They were shiny yellowish metal encasing a dull gray tip. He took those, too. If nothing else, they would make a nice souvenir for when he got back to his ship. Maybe tell a ghost story or two at the O club. He grunted a laugh, but quickly stopped as his ribs protested this newest abuse.
Liu was sitting up and turned around as his suit lights chased away a few more hard edged shadows. Her brown eyes were puffy and red, but alert- good, no severe damage then. He hoped. His medical training had been rough and ready and more years ago than he’d like to recall.
“As we're not back on the ship, you can probably tell that something went wrong.” Her lips twitched. Another man might not notice the small smile, but Captain Everts did. He tried to get to know all his people. Other officers might try to remain aloof, but on a small ship like Celerity he thought it helped bring the crew together. They needed to be. Scout ships often operated alone in the deep black.
“A line parted on the dorsal forward quarter. I saw you drifting into the path where the ship would hit and got us both out of the way. More or less. That mattress over there saved out lives,” he remarked, pointed to the crumpled red and blue shape. “Can't get back out the way we came in so we'll have to work our way around. How's your head?”
“Hurts, sir. I am still able to function, though I would prefer to take it slow.” She blinked owlishly at him. “Can we go back to the ship now?” Everts smiled. It was the same wide, joyful smile he wore on many occasions, from when he'd given crewman Hallas his first good conduct medal to the ship's birthday party. Somehow it made everything seem a bit easier. Like the captain had the situation well in hand, even though intellectually she knew no one could be in such complete control of himself and his surroundings. At least not all the time.
“I'd very much like to, Ensign Liu. The corridor leading forward is blocked, so we will have to work our way aft and look for a way out. Either through the hull, or in towards the damaged section. I don't have much expectation of getting back so easily, though. The damage was quite severe.” He lent her his arm to stand up, and she carefully did so.
Liu crossed herself solemnly as they passed the corpse on the deck. Captain Everts gave a solemn salute. Whatever had happened back then, this crewman, this ship, had done their duty to the end. A worthy example to have, he thought.
He led the way aft down the corridor slowly. His mag boots made the footing sure, despite the broken deck plates, but he took it slow. Ensign Liu wasn't the only one not at full capacity, little though he would tell his subordinate. At least not yet. It could wait until they got back to the ship.
He tried each hatch as they passed. Many were warped shut. Others led into machinery spaces, a small mess area, and what had once been a missile hold with the gigantic weapons still in their racks and the launch doors firmly shut. He searched for a maintenance access port, but it had been melted at some point and was thus unusable. They continued on until the corridor split at a companionway.
“What do you think, Ensign- up or down?” Liu nodded her head up.
“Up. If the CIC is still intact, there is a chance that enough residual charge remains to show us which hatches are functional through the emergency subroutines.” It was a good thought. Modern ships used a similar system of telltales to show when the hatches were in use, and when they required maintenance.
“Upwards it is. Keep an eye out for red lines on the bulkhead- on older ships this pointed the way to the CIC. Gold lines pointed to the bridge.” They climbed in silence. Everts' battery life indicator winked at him, letting him know he'd passed the 50% mark. A few more hours, tops, then darkness. He made a promise to himself to shut his lights off at 25%. He could follow Liu for a bit to stretch it out, but once power was gone it would start getting colder. Suit heaters were efficient, but not perfectly efficient. Air supply wouldn’t last much past that point either.
The Combat Information Center turned out to be only one deck up and deeper into the ship. A heavily armored hatch gaped open, and more still suited figures lay inside lit by the dull red glow of an emergency lamp on low power that lit as the slight charge from their boots tripped its simple circuit.
“Pardon our passage, brothers. Your long watch has ended. We hold the burden now, and will see it through. May your souls have found peace among the eternal stars, you and yours.” Everts murmured softly. The navy was officially agnostic when it came to religion, but a great many of the men and women who served still believed. It was why Navy chaplains returned to the ranks after so long a time.
Ensign Liu sat down at a console near the hatch. She hadn't lagged behind a bit during their trek, but Everts suspected her pride kept her going more than anything. A few moments rest would not harm a thing. He began picking his way up towards the secondary bridge console, where the First Officer would have held his post. Here in one of the most protected places on the ship things were in much better shape. The deck was solid instead of warped and much cleaner. That would be a heavy weapons console to port, with the finicky tracking screens in a U-shape. Electronic Warfare beside it and Defensive Weapons across from it. The layout evidently hadn't changed. Older, but recognizable to a man seventy years down the martial path from it.
The First Officer's console was another massive U-shaped affair, with repeater screens down each side. It would be easy to get lost in the weeds of minutiae like that, he supposed. Have to keep one's head above it, and extract the important information from all that mess. He had to respect the kind of men who fought a war that way. It would take a kind of mental agility and toughness he wondered if the current generation could ever match.
As he stepped up, he noticed another body behind the main watch station. It wasn't suited, from the foot he could see sticking out. Strangely shaped- a club foot? Perhaps the body had been burnt somehow? The deck was clean beneath it... As he gained the top level and it came fully into view, Everts became convinced that this was not a human body at all. And not of any one of the alien species he knew of either.
Spindly forelimbs ended in three hooked claws. A narrow chest over a starvation thin waist, and two backwards jointed knees. The head was completely obliterated, just a truncated stump and a pulpy mass of space-frozen flesh above. The skin of the creature was a silvery sort of green, almost like chitin in places.
The captain of the Spitfire had mentioned alien bioforms. Captain Everts was suddenly sure this was what he was looking at- though for no reason or by no supporting logic he could think of. The thing looked fast and deadly. His respect for the now dead woman whose final message was still transmitting rose another notch. She deserved to be remembered. And that was another good reason to get back to the ship.
He returned to find the Ensign tapping something out on her handheld, linked to the console she was sitting at. His was lost, tumbling somewhere out in space as far as he knew, from his wild leap off Celerity's hull. Liu looked up at the sweep of his suit lights and motioned him closer. He gently placed his helmet in contact with hers so he could hear.
“Captian, I think I've found our way out. And maybe even more. Did you know that this heavy cruiser was the Courageous, sir? I believe the ship's logs are removable- on the rear of the main watch console. My handheld can link with the ship's systems, but for some reason Captain Caro could not.” Ensign Liu looked down at her hand held, then back up to Everts. “Should we take them with us, sir? There could even be information in there that survived the Purge.”
Every human alive knew of the Purge. It was the first Great Disaster that struck the fleeing human convoy. Entire libraries and computer systems hopelessly corrupted. Everything from unlinked storage drives to drive controllers. Countless people died when their air supply stagnated or their power cores ruptured. To his knowledge, no one ever figured out how it had happened, or why. Massive gaps still existed in their knowledge and history. This was how hard copies became more common, and the death of the old shipnet birthed what was now the tanglenet, robust and redundant. But if they could recover some of that lost knowledge here, that could change everything. The young ensign probably knew this better than he himself did.
“We should indeed, Ensign. Good work.” He smiled again. “Let's see how bulky that storage device is first, before we commit to taking it with us now. If it is too heavy, we can send a work party to return for it later. Perhaps Sergeant Woods will get in some boarding practice after all.”
The good sergeant would likely jump at the chance for his men to be more than half trained sailors for once. He knew the man knew his business. He also knew that being ships’ marines for a tiny scout ship was not the first choice of the proud fighting men of humanity. Even a practice assault on a derelict ship would be welcomed, he was sure.
Liu recoiled briefly at the sight of the headless body. Pilots rarely if ever saw death up close, and today she had seen more than one. This one was new but it did not deter the woman from stepping over it to the watch chair and pointing to a yellow square near the base. Everts removed his toolkit- he still had that, if not his handheld. The Ensign was in the opposite situation- computing power, but no hand tools. Simple toggles yielded to his small prybar, and the yellow plate popped out, revealing a box the size of his doubled fists with a quick release plug on top. He removed the plug and took it out, placing it in the ammo bag he'd recovered.
“Now then. Where is this exit you've found us?” A flicker of shadow moved in the reflection of her helmet against his, as he saw her eyes widen. She screamed.