Cloud-Four

Pre-jump checks were complete, all systems were green, and the crew of four were antsy to get going. The ship was barely more than a cockpit and engines attached to a giant cargo pod.

“Cloud-four, this is gate control. Verify your jump plan.”

As the copilot, it was Barn’s job to communicate with gate control. Just as well, as the pilot, Merilee, was as likely to chew their head off as give an answer.

“Gate, cloud-four. Verify jump to Tau Ceti at rate three-point-seven, immediate re-jump to Linden at rate four-point-zero.”

“Cloud-four, I am obligated to remind you that the Linden gate is in an active war zone.”

“Gate, cloud-four copy, Linden gate is in an active war zone.”

“Cloud-four, gate. Cargo check cleared, proceed to aperture three. Cleared for departure.”

“Gate, cloud-four, copy proceed to aperture three, departure aye.”

“Good luck and Godspeed, cloud-four.”

Barn clicked off the mic and watched as Merilee guided the ship to the shimmering aperture. She entered the commands to spool up the warp shield, then shot forward through the shimmer into the featureless grey of superluminal space.

“I am obligated to remind you,” she said in an exaggerated, nasal tone, “active war zone. Godspeed you stupid gits.”

Barn chuckled. Liv, the navigator, laughed out loud. “Cap, are you saying we’re stupid?”

“Of course,” Merilee said in her normal voice. “Who else could they find to do this?”

“You got it all wrong, Cap.” Kara turned her chair from the engineer station to face the others. “We ain’t stupid, but we sure ain’t all there. More like crazy.”

Barn leaned back. “I second crazy. Cap?”

Liv raised an eyebrow. “What’s the matter, Barn? Feeling insecure being the only guy, have to get Cap’s approval?”

“Bite me, Liv.”

Kara giggled. “Mom! They’re fighting again!”

“Don’t make me pull this warp bubble over,” Merilee said with a false sternness.

“It’s cool,” Liv said, “that we’re all in a good mood, but we gotta make a plan for when we get there.”

“We’ll get the latest news TC has at the gate before we jump,” Merilee said. “After that, we’ll be winging it.”

“I hope that ain’t literal,” Liv said. “There’s no way we can go atmospheric with a load.”

“We can…sort of,” Kara said.

Merilee laughed. “I don’t know whether to be proud or afraid when you say things like that. We’re locked in warp for the next nine hours, I’ll take first watch, Barn. Why don’t you two come up with some contingency plans. It doesn’t matter how wild it sounds, we’ll consider it, and fly it if need be.”

Barn stood. “Coffee, Cap? Anybody else?” After getting affirmative responses from all three, he left the cockpit for the small galley and ordered three cups of coffee and a water from the drinks dispenser.

Merilee sipped at her coffee, headphones playing music and system updates. Liv and Kara pored over charts of the Linden system and the planet that held the disputed colony, drawing out possible paths from the gate, ways to offload without getting shot, and more.

Barn took a nap in one of the hammocks in the “crew quarters” that had been set up for just that. He woke a few hours later and relieved the captain. Resuming the music where she’d left off, he was surprised she’d been listening to Bach. It suited him just fine.

He looked at the plans the navigator and engineer had come up with. The captain had already organized them from most preferable and safest, to what could only be considered last-ditch efforts. Lowest on the list was to skim the upper atmosphere and dump the load there, hoping that at least some made its way to the colony.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and removed the headset. Liv handed him a cup of coffee. “Me and Kara are gonna take a nap. You’ll be okay by yourself for a while?”

“Sure, Liv. Thanks. Oh,” he said, raising a finger, “don’t wake the Cap, or I’ll hear about it all day.”

“I said we’re crazy, not suicidal.”

By the time they exited warp at Tau Ceti, the crew were all at their stations. Liv downloaded the latest information available about the situation at Linden while Kara did a once-over of the systems checks.

Barn clicked on his headset. “Gate control, cloud-four exiting aperture one, requesting immediate departure for Linden at rate four.”

“Cloud-four, gate. Negative on rate four to Linden. Military requires all vessels to clear the lane as quickly as possible, minimum rate six.”

“Gate, cloud-four, copy minimum rate six for Linden, hold for instructions.” He turned to Merilee. “Cap? Do we go at six?”

“Six with a full load is pushing it. Liv, estimate fuel reserves after a six to Linden.”

She was already in the process of doing just that. “Aye, Cap. Leaves us with nine percent main fuel, and reserves. Enough to maneuver, unload, and set down for refuel…just.”

Merilee turned on her headset. “Gate, cloud-four. Any fuel available here?”

“Cloud-four, gate. Nearest fuel arrives in twenty hours.”

Merilee growled. “Gate, cloud-four. Copy, no fuel.” She turned to look at the rest of the crew. “This is it. We either do this now or pack up and go home.”

“I’m in,” Kara said, and Barn nodded in agreement.

Liv took a deep breath. “Let’s do this!”

Barn turned his headset back on. “Gate, cloud-four requesting immediate clearance for Linden at rate six.”

“Cloud-four, gate. Proceed to aperture two, you are cleared for departure.”

“Gate, cloud-four. Copy proceed to aperture two, departure aye.”

As Merilee shot the ship forward through the aperture, the mangled hulk of a military ship emerged from one of the other apertures. They all had just the briefest glimpse of it, but it was disquieting all the same.

The ship rattled and the solid grey of superluminal space sparkled with stray hydrogen atoms demolishing themselves on the warp bubble. Kara kept a constant eye on fuel usage, warp shield level, and generator temperatures while Merilee leaned back and closed her eyes.

“Wake me up when we’re close to the Linden gate,” she said to Barn.

What they had planned as a seven-hour trip would take less than two, and Barn found himself nervous. He kept his attention on their course and the bubble, trying not to think too hard about what they’d find when they exited the gate.

At twenty minutes before the gate, Barn woke Merilee, and she set the flight system up such that she could assume manual control with a single keystroke. “Liv, I want all sensors online as soon as we de-bubble. We’re not stopping, and we’ll be heading on course Alpha-two. I just hope there’s nothing in the way.”

Liv asked, “Shouldn’t we wait until we—”

“No. You all saw that destroyer. It’s going to be dangerous no matter what, but I’m not sitting still just to be a target.”

They exited the gate at speed. The second the sensors came online, a collision warning blared. Merilee took manual control and did a hard-burn left lower quadrant turn. Barn kept his hands on the controls, assisting with extra muscle as the ship tried to fight back.

Despite the radical maneuver, the ship turned slowly, the inertia of its laden mass difficult to overcome. They missed colliding with the burned-out hulk of another freighter by meters, instead being pelted with bits of debris.

“Any of that get through the hull?”

“No, Cap. We’re still good,” Kara said.

“Talk to me Liv.”

“Fighters in low orbit, thirty minutes until they can lock on us. There’s a platform in geostationary orbit, south of the colony.”

“Colony’s not directly on the equator, but that orbit gives them eyes on it,” Barn said. “Any read on what it is?”

“Coming up now, Barn.” The sensors continued their noise as Merilee piloted the ship into a lower and lower orbit. “Got it. No weapons, eyes only.”

“Liv, any read on the shuttles?”

“No shuttles in orbit or atmo.”

“Kara, how sure are you about your idea?”

“Well, Cap, if you can fly it, it’ll work. The recovery chutes were refurbished last month, so at least we know they’re good.” She began calling up other systems on her console and muttered under her breath, “Just hope the thrusters are strong enough.”

“Liv, make it happen. Descending, geostationary orbit directly over the colony. At eighteen kilometers altitude we deploy the recovery chute. I’ll manually control the thrusters to set us down just outside the colony.”

Liv’s fingers flew over her console. “In position in ten seconds, Cap.”

Merilee turned off manual control. “Manual off, go when ready.”

“Three…two…one….” The ship’s computer took over navigation, putting them directly over the colony in a steadily slowing, steadily falling trajectory. The difference in speed between the ground below them and the high atmosphere buffeted the ship, the engines whining in their effort to maintain position while dropping like a rock from the sky.

Barn watched their remaining fuel empty out, then they started burning reserves. He ground his teeth in anticipation.

At eighteen kilometers, the engines grew silent, and for a few seconds they were in free-fall, until the chutes deployed fully, yanking on the ship and slowing its descent. Merilee once again took manual control, using her console to determine their location relative to the ground now that the chutes held them in a tail-down position.

As the parachutes strained against the weight of the fully loaded ship, Merilee used the thrusters to adjust their trajectory. “It’s gonna be a hard landing,” Liv said.

“She can handle it,” Kara said, “I’m pretty sure.”

Barn let the comments go past him. He was busy mirroring the captain’s movements, ready to provide extra muscle or take over completely in case of failure. He watched the altimeter wind down far too fast for a recovery landing.

“Cap! We got trouble!” Liv sent the sensor data to the captain’s heads-up display.

“Incoming fighters,” Merilee said. “We’re a big target.”

“How long until they’re in range?” Kara asked. The sound of bullets hitting the outer skin of the ship thumped and echoed. “Oh.”

“Twenty seconds to land,” Barn said. “Brace for impact.”

The engines cut out and the four of them held their breath, their harnesses pinning them in their seats, their backs to the ground. The impact was sudden and jarring.

“I it my ongue,” Kara said.

“Aside from Kara’s tongue, is everyone okay?” Merilee asked.

“Yeah, just as soon as my heart slows down,” Barn said.

“Well, ain’t that a sight?” Liv had already removed her harness and stood on the back of her chair. She pointed through the forward window above them to the fighters falling from the sky in flames.

As they watched, the chute, almost settled, filled with wind and pulled toward the bottom of the ship where the cargo hold contained most of the weight. “Liv, strap in!” Merilee clenched her fist as Liv scrambled to return to her seat.

She wasn’t fast enough, and the ship leaned, seemingly balanced on edge for a second, before slamming down to its normal position.

Liv was thrown to the floor, where she groaned. She sat up, touching her forehead where blood poured from a gash.

“Kara, grab the first aid kit and patch up her head. Barn, get on the radio. Let ’em know we’re two kilometers south of the colony.”

“Oh, they already know,” Barn said, pointing at the rescue vehicles barreling toward their location.

Merilee helped Liv down first, for the medics to treat, then Kara. “How’s your tongue?” she asked.

“It hurts, but I’ll live.”

“Have the medics check you out anyway. I see you trying to hide all the blood you’re swallowing. That’ll just make you sick. Quit trying to be a badass.”

“Aye, Cap.”

“Barn?”

“Shaken, but uninjured,” he said.

“I’d feel better if the medics check you out, too, anyway.”

Merilee followed him down and walked away from the ship to assess the damage. The cargo hold was dented, but not pierced. The upper hull, though, looked like Swiss cheese, thanks to the bullets of the fighters.

One of the colony’s military leaders pulled up next to her. “You’re lucky to be alive,” he said.

“Luck has nothing to do with it.” Merilee looked at the damage to the upper hull again. “Well, maybe it does. Anyway, we heard the xenos destroyed your reservoir and things were grim, so we came.”

“What’s your ship’s call sign, and what’s the cargo?”

“Cloud-four,” she said. “One through three didn’t make it through, so, we had to. Cargo is 590,000 cubic meters of water.”

“Thank whatever gods there are you got here.”

“This should hold you until we get patched up and bring another load. Hopefully to unload in orbit like a sane person next time.”