(The following story, I wrote back in 2006. Spud found it recently and liked it, so I decided 'what the heck' and
figured I'd post it here in chapters, see what people thought of it.)
***
You always hear people going on about how they'd love to travel the galaxy, live the kind of life you see in movies and the like. You know, a ship of your
own, going from world to world, seeing things the mundanes would never imagine? Most people never get the chance, or when they get the opportunity, they
chicken out, giving excuses. For them, the closest they'll get is a commercial flight to a nearby planet.
I don't know if that makes Ben and I lucky, or slightly crazy. We got the chance, and we took it. A ship of our own, the Duskwalker, a bit of cash, and off
we went. We got in a fair bit of trouble at first too. My God did we make mistakes. But we were lucky enough to get out alive, and smart enough to learn. (My
mother would say 'but not smart enough to get out of the business', but she accepts it.)
We've been at this for about a year and a half, living the eternal buddy-movie throughout the stars... It's a good life. Right now, it's a cargo
run to Ragol. Just exotic foods, a few crates of medical goods and what have you. Still, it's always interesting on Ragol, and I doubt this time will be
any different.
***
Duskwalker
By Chris Wood
***
Ben Cook looked over his shoulder as the door of the ships control room opened and Chris entered, idly scratching at his neck. "I was having the most
wonderful dream," he said, suppressing a yawn.
"Yeah, I'm sure you were," he replied with a slight chuckle, "but I found something I think we should check out." He tabbed a button,
and the control rooms speakers crackled to life. It sounded like random noise, crackling and spluttering, but after a few moments, Chris could make out another
noise. A steady pulse, beeping every five seconds.
"What is that?" he asked. "A signal beacon?"
"I think so," Ben replied. "It's not on any maps for this region, so it might be attached to a ship." He turned off the speakers.
"Might be a distress beacon."
The other man looked uncertain. "Distress beacons are usually a little more... I don't know... urgent?"
"Well, is there anything else around here that would be making that kind of noise?" Ben asked. Chris paused, thought about it, then shrugged.
"Makes sense. If not, we might as well check it out anyways. Lay in a course." He picked at a piece of lint on his shirt, then spun and opened the
door again. "I'm gonna have a shower."
"We'll be there in twenty minutes," Ben called out after him, before chuckling and entering new commands into the navigation systems.
***
As luck would have it, Chris came back into the control room just as the Duskwalker dropped out of Slipspace, a few dozen kilometers from the beacon.
"Cutting it a little close, aren't we?" he asked.
"I never hit anything, do I?" Ben asked with a grin, hands moving over the flight controls as he moved the freighter closer to the beacon.
"Whatever's making the signal, it's not very big," he commented.
His friend took a seat at one of the other stations. "Few hundred meters wide," he responded, looking over the scans. "Damn small, especially
for something that's, what, twelve light-years from the nearest system?"
"Just about," Ben said. "Bringing us to match its path and speed." The ships maneuvering thrusters flared, the ship slowing somewhat,
before toggling the lights in the forward section of the ship, directing the beams over their target. As they got a first look at it, both of them sucked in a
breath.
It was a fragment of ship, drifting all alone in the darkness. The searchlights revealed corridors and maintenance shafts that had been blown clear open,
having long ago exposed whatever was inside to hard vacuum.
"Well, this adds support to my distress signal theory," Ben noted bleakly.
"Yeah," Chris agreed. "Thing is, I'm not seeing any other debris. Hell, there's nothing else out there. This has to have been drifting
out here for a long time if it's all on its own."
"Alone or not, something in there's sending out that signal." He glanced over at Chris. "Flip you for it?"
"Nah," he replied, standing up. "I'll go over there. You keep an eye on things from this side."
"Just be careful," Ben called out after him. "If this is some sort of trap..."
"I know, I know."
***
In a locker room just before Duskwalkers primary airlock, Chris opened a locker and took out a light undersuit. Dull grey in color, he pulled it on, then
reached for the armored boots, followed by a slightly bulky breastplate and pair of gloves. As he checked the seals and reached for the helmet, he paused and
went over to another locker, this one sealed with a coded lock. Entering a code into the keypad, he opened it and took out a small pistol and its holster,
hooking it onto his belt.
"Think you'll need it?" Bens voice crackled over the PA.
"Doubt it, but better safe then sorry," he noted, picking up his helmet and putting it on. There was a slight hiss as it locked into place along his
undersuits neck collar. Details flickered across the inside of his helmet visor. He checked them, then nudged his chin against the comm button in his helmet.
"Heading out."
"Okay. I've managed to locate the beacon," his friend continued as he entered the airlock. "It's fifty-three meters in from the side
facing us, which kinda looks like an outer hull. Still haven't been able to figure out exactly what it is though."
"Any markings on the hull?" he asked as the air drained out of the airlock. After a moment, the lights on the wall console flashed, and the outer
doors opened, revealing the void outside.
"Not that I can see," Ben replied as Chris grabbed a handrail just inside the airlock and stepped out, swinging around so he was kneeling on the
hull. Taking a moment to reorient himself, he activated his boot magnets and stood up. As he looked around, he chuckled softly. "What?" came the
comment over his headset.
"Sorry," he said. "It's just..." he looked over the seemingly endless field of stars. "I've never gone EVA outside a star
system before. It's different. So... silent, so alone."
"I'll have to try it sometime," Ben chuckled. "Sounds interesting."
"Oh, it is. Sure, I can see our mystery debris, but it almost feels like I'm completely alone here." He looked directly up, studying his target,
then knelt down. "I'm kicking off," he said, shutting off his boot magnets and kicking off the hull gently.
For over two minutes, he drifted though the darkness, using the air jets in his breastplate to alter his path ever so slightly. As he reached about thirty
meters above the hull, he flipped over one hundred and eighty degrees, landing on the hull, dropping to his knees before he activated his boots again.
"Made it," he whispered.
"Yeah, I can see you," Ben replied, not whispering. "There's an opening in the hull about twenty meters to your right. Chris looked in that
direction, the lights in his helmet highlighting the hole in question.
"I see it," he said, standing up and walking across the hull slowly, before coming to a halt at the hole. "Looks like it was blown open. Weapons
fire maybe." Carefully avoiding anything that looked sharp, he lowered himself into the ship and ended up standing on what had once been a wall.
"Huh."
"What?" Ben asked.
"Carpet. Would've looked pretty nice once."
"You don't see carpet on many ships," Ben noted. "What color?"
"Some sort of blue." He walked along the wall for a stretch until he came across a door. "Am I even going in the right direction?"
"You're going towards it," came the reply. "Just depends on what rooms are in the way. But it's definitely further in."
"Then deeper I go," Chris muttered, deactivating his boots and drifting. Carefully, he made his way through the next few rooms, all of which were
done up in a manner that might have been rather pleasant once. "I think this was a passenger ship. Done up pretty damn fancy. Well, middle class
fancy," he corrected himself, seeing a portrait of dogs playing poker. "There been anything about passenger liners being attacked around here?"
"This close to Ragol?" Ben asked, skeptical. "I sure as hell haven't heard anything. You're the one with the fascination with missing
ships."
"Famous missing ships," Chris corrected. "Like the Pillar of Avalon. The ones with more of a mystery then 'some jerks with some guns on the
hull figured an easy kill's got some mone-'" As he passed into another hallway, his voice cut of into a panicked yelp, grabbing the door frame and
pulling himself back.
"Chris?!"
"I'm okay," he managed, still getting his breath back. Slightly sickened, he looked at what had startled him. "Found a body," he added.
"Man, maybe twenty five." He moved on, making sure to never touch the corpse, although his eyes lingered on it. Hands stretched out into claws, mouth
wide open in a frantic scream... Decompression was hardly a pleasant way to go. "Moving on," he said, tearing his gaze away and continuing down the
hallway.
"You're close to the signal," Ben reported, "it might be in a room to your left. Wait, you passed it."
"Yeah, there's a door here," Chris replied. "Nearly missed it. Damn dark in here, even with my lights." He studied the sealed door for
a minute, then, not expecting it to work, pressed the open button on the keypad next to it. After a moment he scowled and pulled out his knife, jamming the
blade into the door seal and forcing enough of a space to get a handhold.
It seemed that whatever hydraulics the door had were either frozen over or just plain destroyed, as it slid open easily. Stepping inside, Chris looked around,
then nodded in understanding at the rather bare metal room, dramatically different from everything he'd seen so far. "Escape pods," he said.
"I can see a lunch tube in here."
"Should've gone in that way," Ben said wryly.
"Might've been sealed off by an explosion," he replied. "There's one pod still on the launch rails. It might be the source of the
beacon." He noted another body floating near the ceiling, but ignored it and focused on the escape pod. It was a long, featureless bulletshaped oddity,
moisture having frozen on it after whatever had destroyed the ship. After a moment, Chris found a hidden panel at the rear that opened to reveal a control
panel. He tapped a few buttons, then nodded. "Ben, I was right. This pod's transmitting a distress beacon..." his voice trailed off for a moment.
"Because it's got someone in it," he finished.
"Christ," Ben said. "You sure about that?"
"This thing's pretty damn insistent about it," he muttered. "From what I can tell, he's in suspended animation, his body right at the
borderline. Must have got in the tube, gone under, and never even knew his pod didn't make it out."
"And then he drifted," came the response.
"Yeah... God only knows how long he's been he-"
"Wait."
"What?" Chris asked.
"I heard something, some kind of interference. Hang on." Chris was left in silence for a moment, before Ben's voice returned, urgent. "Some
kind of data burst, almost on the same frequency we're using. It's coming from inside the wreck. Chris-"
"I get it," Chris replied, taking his pistol out of its holster and tabbing off the safety. "There's something else here."
***
"Ben, where are they?" Chris asked, moving towards the door. "Hell, what are they?"
On the Duskwalker, Ben studied the console in front of him. "I'm not sure, okay? It was some sort of brief data burst, so possibly a droid or
something, maybe more then one. I'm looking for a power source, see if I can find them."
"Great," his friend replied, stopping just before the door and risking a look out. "Hate to pressure you, but stumbling around in here with
something that may be aggressive-"
"I know," Ben snapped, then scowled. "Got it. Three clear power sources that weren't there before. You must have woken them up."
"Crap... where're they going?" he asked, a second before an orange-red beam lashed past his helmet. Swearing, he pulled himself back into the
escape room, leaning against the wall. "Never mind, found 'em." As the beam stopped, he leaned out and fired three shots down the hallway, the
gunshots echoing through his suit, shattering the eternal silence. For a moment.
As he leaned back in, Chris noted to himself that one of the more annoying aspects of space was the fact that, in situations like this, there was no way to
know if you'd hit anything worthwhile... well, until they fired back. As the energy beam lashed the door frame, it became clear he hadn't.
"You found one of them," Ben said, annoyingly calm. "The other two power sources are still moving. They're not heading towards you."
There was a moment of silence, Chris idly studying the energy beam, before Ben spoke again. "Dammit, they're heading towards the ship."
"Can they do any damage?" Chris asked.
"How the hell do I know? If they shoot in a window we're gonna have problems. You deal with your dance partner, I'll take his friends."
"Deal with him?" Chris protested. "Damn things hosing down my cover with some kind of beam weapon. I can't get off a shot."
"Then improvise," came the response, before the channel went dead.
"Improvise," Chris muttered, looking around. "What the hell am I supposed to improvise with? Some bits of metal, an occupied escape pod..."
his voice trailed off as he looked up. "Aw fuck. I'm going to Hell for this, I'm sure."
Keeping a careful eye on the door, he pushed off the floor and drifted up, reaching out to stop himself just below the roof, placing himself at eye level with
the corpse he'd noticed earlier. "Sorry about this pal," he whispered, placing his other hand against the mans chest and pushing him down towards
the door, before following him. As his soles pressed against the floor, he grabbed the body and pushed.
The mans corpse drifted out into the hall. Instantly, the beams target changed, locking onto it and searing the frozen, cracked flesh. Chris didn't pass up
the opportunity, leaning out and running his helmet light over the hallway, tracking the beam to its source.
There it was, a small drone, with a spherical body and small maneuvering fins. He didn't study it any further, emptying his clip into it. While he
couldn't hear the bullets hit, he could see the results, as the small drone was ripped apart, the beam cutting out almost instantly.
Chris ejected the spent clip and loaded a spare, then stepped out into the hallway, moving towards the shattered drone. He got no reaction from it, but put
another bullet through the beam emitter, just to be safe. "God damn piece of scrap metal," he muttered, turning back to the doorway, only to pause as
he looked over the body. The heat from the energy beam had thawed out parts of the body it hadn't destroyed, and half-thawed chunks of flesh and blood were
drifting, almost orbiting the body.
Pressing a hand to his helmet on reflex, Chris gagged as he nearly threw up, before turning away. "Ben," he managed. "I've taken care of one
of them. What about the other two?"
***
Ben checked his glove seals, then pulled his helmet out of his locker before turning and going over to the weapons locker. Entering the keycode, he took out a
rifle and several clips of ammunition. Stashing most of them in a pouch on his belt, he loaded the rifle and worked the bolt, then hooked the rifle to a small
strap on his breastplate. Sealing his helmet, he picked up a coil of thick, metallic looking rope and walked towards the airlock.
"They're out there," he replied. "Not in the wreck anymore, I know that much. At a guess, they're sweeping the Dusk."
"What the hell are they? Security Droids or something?"
"Got to be," Ben said as the airlock began cycling. "Whatever happened to that ship put them in a standby mode, probably to defend
survivors." He clipped one end of the cable onto his belt.
"It's a freaking splinter of a ship," Chris protested. "What the hell is left?"
"An escape pod with someone in stasis," Ben noted.
Chris was silent for a moment. "Okay, I'm gonna give you that one."
"Good man," he said, hopping out of the airlock and kneeling on the hull. Moving forward about ten meters, he latched the other end of the cable onto
a hook, then stood up. "Alright you bastards... where are you?" he muttered, raising his rifle and running it over the 'horizon' created by
his ship.
He saw them soon enough, two flickers of silver dancing over the Duskwalker, looking for whatever they were programmed to find. Closing one eye, he watched
through the rifles scope (Not as easy as one would think when wearing a helmet), studied the two drones for a moment, then pulled the trigger. A triple-burst
shot through the space, ripping at one of the drones and tearing one of its maneuvering fins clean off.
In response, the other drone fired, a beam slashing across the ships hull. Ben stepped to the side, firing off another burst, more to keep the drones guessing
then anything else. Focusing on the wounded drone, he fired a third burst, missing.
Both drones closed in, firing on him. He threw himself to the side, cable spinning out behind him. He darted over the hull for a moment, then grabbed the
nearest handhold and jerked to a halt, getting back on his feet and firing his rifle again. The damaged drone was clipped again, spinning down in what looked
like some sort of evasion maneuver, right until it slammed into the hull, shattering.
"One down," he muttered, ducking under another beam, then leaping to the side. A part of his mind complained that Chris had it easy. At least
he'd had some cover. Raising his rifle, he fired off a round and then had to evade again, the remaining drone determined to take him out.
"Ben, I'm on my way!" came the call from Chris.
"By the time you get here-" He cut off mid sentence, leaping to avoid another burst. He shot up at an angle, unable to grab at the ship. Out of the
corner of his eye, he could see the drone spinning to face him. Then, his cable went tight, and momentum pulled him back down towards the ship, and right into
the open airlock. He came back into the ships artificial gravity and slammed into the floor, gasping. Pulling himself to his knees, he raised his rifle,
waited... and opened fire on fully automatic the moment he saw the drone come into view. Not expecting such a barrage, the drone nearly disintegrated, leaving
Ben alone in the silence.
"Correction," he managed, getting his breath back. "It's done." He ejected the mostly empty clip and loaded a fresh one, then sighed.
"You want me to come over there?"
"Well, we do need to figure out how to get this pod out of here," Chris replied.
"Okay. Give me a few minutes."
***
Chris looked down the launch tube, his headlight giving him a good view of the junk blocking it off. There were openings he could see through, but the majority
of the tube was virtually sealed off, some unknown force having crushed it in from above. "This could be a problem."
"Bad?" came the response from Ben, who was currently drifting between the Duskwalker and the wreck.
"Bad. The escape tube is half crushed, the rest full of crap. I don't know if we'll be able to get it open."
"Hang on," he said. "I might be able to find the tube from the outside." As he landed, Ben kicked off at an angle, drifting along the hull.
He pulled himself over the edge and floated along the side, looking over the passageways and corridors that had been ripped open. After a moment, he saw a beam
of light, made by his friends headlamp, stretching out of a small hole in the ship. Following it to its source, he looked over the outside of the launch tube.
"Even worse out here," he admitted with a scowl. "How much space would that pod take up?"
Chris did a quick check. "Seventy, seventy-five percent of the tube. Even if we get this crap out, the roof cave in is going to make it impossible."
He backed up and looked around. "Hey, check about ten meters to your right. Is there a hallway there?"
Glancing over, Ben saw what Chris was looking at, then shifted over. "Yeah, it's here." As he looked down it, he saw the slightly bulky figure
that was his friend emerge from a door. "Hallway looks wide enough."
"Cut the door out, push the pod out?" Chris suggested.
"It'll take a while," he replied. "Looks like it was made of Trinium."
"I'll take the first air cycle," Chris said.
***
figured I'd post it here in chapters, see what people thought of it.)
***
You always hear people going on about how they'd love to travel the galaxy, live the kind of life you see in movies and the like. You know, a ship of your
own, going from world to world, seeing things the mundanes would never imagine? Most people never get the chance, or when they get the opportunity, they
chicken out, giving excuses. For them, the closest they'll get is a commercial flight to a nearby planet.
I don't know if that makes Ben and I lucky, or slightly crazy. We got the chance, and we took it. A ship of our own, the Duskwalker, a bit of cash, and off
we went. We got in a fair bit of trouble at first too. My God did we make mistakes. But we were lucky enough to get out alive, and smart enough to learn. (My
mother would say 'but not smart enough to get out of the business', but she accepts it.)
We've been at this for about a year and a half, living the eternal buddy-movie throughout the stars... It's a good life. Right now, it's a cargo
run to Ragol. Just exotic foods, a few crates of medical goods and what have you. Still, it's always interesting on Ragol, and I doubt this time will be
any different.
***
Duskwalker
By Chris Wood
***
Ben Cook looked over his shoulder as the door of the ships control room opened and Chris entered, idly scratching at his neck. "I was having the most
wonderful dream," he said, suppressing a yawn.
"Yeah, I'm sure you were," he replied with a slight chuckle, "but I found something I think we should check out." He tabbed a button,
and the control rooms speakers crackled to life. It sounded like random noise, crackling and spluttering, but after a few moments, Chris could make out another
noise. A steady pulse, beeping every five seconds.
"What is that?" he asked. "A signal beacon?"
"I think so," Ben replied. "It's not on any maps for this region, so it might be attached to a ship." He turned off the speakers.
"Might be a distress beacon."
The other man looked uncertain. "Distress beacons are usually a little more... I don't know... urgent?"
"Well, is there anything else around here that would be making that kind of noise?" Ben asked. Chris paused, thought about it, then shrugged.
"Makes sense. If not, we might as well check it out anyways. Lay in a course." He picked at a piece of lint on his shirt, then spun and opened the
door again. "I'm gonna have a shower."
"We'll be there in twenty minutes," Ben called out after him, before chuckling and entering new commands into the navigation systems.
***
As luck would have it, Chris came back into the control room just as the Duskwalker dropped out of Slipspace, a few dozen kilometers from the beacon.
"Cutting it a little close, aren't we?" he asked.
"I never hit anything, do I?" Ben asked with a grin, hands moving over the flight controls as he moved the freighter closer to the beacon.
"Whatever's making the signal, it's not very big," he commented.
His friend took a seat at one of the other stations. "Few hundred meters wide," he responded, looking over the scans. "Damn small, especially
for something that's, what, twelve light-years from the nearest system?"
"Just about," Ben said. "Bringing us to match its path and speed." The ships maneuvering thrusters flared, the ship slowing somewhat,
before toggling the lights in the forward section of the ship, directing the beams over their target. As they got a first look at it, both of them sucked in a
breath.
It was a fragment of ship, drifting all alone in the darkness. The searchlights revealed corridors and maintenance shafts that had been blown clear open,
having long ago exposed whatever was inside to hard vacuum.
"Well, this adds support to my distress signal theory," Ben noted bleakly.
"Yeah," Chris agreed. "Thing is, I'm not seeing any other debris. Hell, there's nothing else out there. This has to have been drifting
out here for a long time if it's all on its own."
"Alone or not, something in there's sending out that signal." He glanced over at Chris. "Flip you for it?"
"Nah," he replied, standing up. "I'll go over there. You keep an eye on things from this side."
"Just be careful," Ben called out after him. "If this is some sort of trap..."
"I know, I know."
***
In a locker room just before Duskwalkers primary airlock, Chris opened a locker and took out a light undersuit. Dull grey in color, he pulled it on, then
reached for the armored boots, followed by a slightly bulky breastplate and pair of gloves. As he checked the seals and reached for the helmet, he paused and
went over to another locker, this one sealed with a coded lock. Entering a code into the keypad, he opened it and took out a small pistol and its holster,
hooking it onto his belt.
"Think you'll need it?" Bens voice crackled over the PA.
"Doubt it, but better safe then sorry," he noted, picking up his helmet and putting it on. There was a slight hiss as it locked into place along his
undersuits neck collar. Details flickered across the inside of his helmet visor. He checked them, then nudged his chin against the comm button in his helmet.
"Heading out."
"Okay. I've managed to locate the beacon," his friend continued as he entered the airlock. "It's fifty-three meters in from the side
facing us, which kinda looks like an outer hull. Still haven't been able to figure out exactly what it is though."
"Any markings on the hull?" he asked as the air drained out of the airlock. After a moment, the lights on the wall console flashed, and the outer
doors opened, revealing the void outside.
"Not that I can see," Ben replied as Chris grabbed a handrail just inside the airlock and stepped out, swinging around so he was kneeling on the
hull. Taking a moment to reorient himself, he activated his boot magnets and stood up. As he looked around, he chuckled softly. "What?" came the
comment over his headset.
"Sorry," he said. "It's just..." he looked over the seemingly endless field of stars. "I've never gone EVA outside a star
system before. It's different. So... silent, so alone."
"I'll have to try it sometime," Ben chuckled. "Sounds interesting."
"Oh, it is. Sure, I can see our mystery debris, but it almost feels like I'm completely alone here." He looked directly up, studying his target,
then knelt down. "I'm kicking off," he said, shutting off his boot magnets and kicking off the hull gently.
For over two minutes, he drifted though the darkness, using the air jets in his breastplate to alter his path ever so slightly. As he reached about thirty
meters above the hull, he flipped over one hundred and eighty degrees, landing on the hull, dropping to his knees before he activated his boots again.
"Made it," he whispered.
"Yeah, I can see you," Ben replied, not whispering. "There's an opening in the hull about twenty meters to your right. Chris looked in that
direction, the lights in his helmet highlighting the hole in question.
"I see it," he said, standing up and walking across the hull slowly, before coming to a halt at the hole. "Looks like it was blown open. Weapons
fire maybe." Carefully avoiding anything that looked sharp, he lowered himself into the ship and ended up standing on what had once been a wall.
"Huh."
"What?" Ben asked.
"Carpet. Would've looked pretty nice once."
"You don't see carpet on many ships," Ben noted. "What color?"
"Some sort of blue." He walked along the wall for a stretch until he came across a door. "Am I even going in the right direction?"
"You're going towards it," came the reply. "Just depends on what rooms are in the way. But it's definitely further in."
"Then deeper I go," Chris muttered, deactivating his boots and drifting. Carefully, he made his way through the next few rooms, all of which were
done up in a manner that might have been rather pleasant once. "I think this was a passenger ship. Done up pretty damn fancy. Well, middle class
fancy," he corrected himself, seeing a portrait of dogs playing poker. "There been anything about passenger liners being attacked around here?"
"This close to Ragol?" Ben asked, skeptical. "I sure as hell haven't heard anything. You're the one with the fascination with missing
ships."
"Famous missing ships," Chris corrected. "Like the Pillar of Avalon. The ones with more of a mystery then 'some jerks with some guns on the
hull figured an easy kill's got some mone-'" As he passed into another hallway, his voice cut of into a panicked yelp, grabbing the door frame and
pulling himself back.
"Chris?!"
"I'm okay," he managed, still getting his breath back. Slightly sickened, he looked at what had startled him. "Found a body," he added.
"Man, maybe twenty five." He moved on, making sure to never touch the corpse, although his eyes lingered on it. Hands stretched out into claws, mouth
wide open in a frantic scream... Decompression was hardly a pleasant way to go. "Moving on," he said, tearing his gaze away and continuing down the
hallway.
"You're close to the signal," Ben reported, "it might be in a room to your left. Wait, you passed it."
"Yeah, there's a door here," Chris replied. "Nearly missed it. Damn dark in here, even with my lights." He studied the sealed door for
a minute, then, not expecting it to work, pressed the open button on the keypad next to it. After a moment he scowled and pulled out his knife, jamming the
blade into the door seal and forcing enough of a space to get a handhold.
It seemed that whatever hydraulics the door had were either frozen over or just plain destroyed, as it slid open easily. Stepping inside, Chris looked around,
then nodded in understanding at the rather bare metal room, dramatically different from everything he'd seen so far. "Escape pods," he said.
"I can see a lunch tube in here."
"Should've gone in that way," Ben said wryly.
"Might've been sealed off by an explosion," he replied. "There's one pod still on the launch rails. It might be the source of the
beacon." He noted another body floating near the ceiling, but ignored it and focused on the escape pod. It was a long, featureless bulletshaped oddity,
moisture having frozen on it after whatever had destroyed the ship. After a moment, Chris found a hidden panel at the rear that opened to reveal a control
panel. He tapped a few buttons, then nodded. "Ben, I was right. This pod's transmitting a distress beacon..." his voice trailed off for a moment.
"Because it's got someone in it," he finished.
"Christ," Ben said. "You sure about that?"
"This thing's pretty damn insistent about it," he muttered. "From what I can tell, he's in suspended animation, his body right at the
borderline. Must have got in the tube, gone under, and never even knew his pod didn't make it out."
"And then he drifted," came the response.
"Yeah... God only knows how long he's been he-"
"Wait."
"What?" Chris asked.
"I heard something, some kind of interference. Hang on." Chris was left in silence for a moment, before Ben's voice returned, urgent. "Some
kind of data burst, almost on the same frequency we're using. It's coming from inside the wreck. Chris-"
"I get it," Chris replied, taking his pistol out of its holster and tabbing off the safety. "There's something else here."
***
"Ben, where are they?" Chris asked, moving towards the door. "Hell, what are they?"
On the Duskwalker, Ben studied the console in front of him. "I'm not sure, okay? It was some sort of brief data burst, so possibly a droid or
something, maybe more then one. I'm looking for a power source, see if I can find them."
"Great," his friend replied, stopping just before the door and risking a look out. "Hate to pressure you, but stumbling around in here with
something that may be aggressive-"
"I know," Ben snapped, then scowled. "Got it. Three clear power sources that weren't there before. You must have woken them up."
"Crap... where're they going?" he asked, a second before an orange-red beam lashed past his helmet. Swearing, he pulled himself back into the
escape room, leaning against the wall. "Never mind, found 'em." As the beam stopped, he leaned out and fired three shots down the hallway, the
gunshots echoing through his suit, shattering the eternal silence. For a moment.
As he leaned back in, Chris noted to himself that one of the more annoying aspects of space was the fact that, in situations like this, there was no way to
know if you'd hit anything worthwhile... well, until they fired back. As the energy beam lashed the door frame, it became clear he hadn't.
"You found one of them," Ben said, annoyingly calm. "The other two power sources are still moving. They're not heading towards you."
There was a moment of silence, Chris idly studying the energy beam, before Ben spoke again. "Dammit, they're heading towards the ship."
"Can they do any damage?" Chris asked.
"How the hell do I know? If they shoot in a window we're gonna have problems. You deal with your dance partner, I'll take his friends."
"Deal with him?" Chris protested. "Damn things hosing down my cover with some kind of beam weapon. I can't get off a shot."
"Then improvise," came the response, before the channel went dead.
"Improvise," Chris muttered, looking around. "What the hell am I supposed to improvise with? Some bits of metal, an occupied escape pod..."
his voice trailed off as he looked up. "Aw fuck. I'm going to Hell for this, I'm sure."
Keeping a careful eye on the door, he pushed off the floor and drifted up, reaching out to stop himself just below the roof, placing himself at eye level with
the corpse he'd noticed earlier. "Sorry about this pal," he whispered, placing his other hand against the mans chest and pushing him down towards
the door, before following him. As his soles pressed against the floor, he grabbed the body and pushed.
The mans corpse drifted out into the hall. Instantly, the beams target changed, locking onto it and searing the frozen, cracked flesh. Chris didn't pass up
the opportunity, leaning out and running his helmet light over the hallway, tracking the beam to its source.
There it was, a small drone, with a spherical body and small maneuvering fins. He didn't study it any further, emptying his clip into it. While he
couldn't hear the bullets hit, he could see the results, as the small drone was ripped apart, the beam cutting out almost instantly.
Chris ejected the spent clip and loaded a spare, then stepped out into the hallway, moving towards the shattered drone. He got no reaction from it, but put
another bullet through the beam emitter, just to be safe. "God damn piece of scrap metal," he muttered, turning back to the doorway, only to pause as
he looked over the body. The heat from the energy beam had thawed out parts of the body it hadn't destroyed, and half-thawed chunks of flesh and blood were
drifting, almost orbiting the body.
Pressing a hand to his helmet on reflex, Chris gagged as he nearly threw up, before turning away. "Ben," he managed. "I've taken care of one
of them. What about the other two?"
***
Ben checked his glove seals, then pulled his helmet out of his locker before turning and going over to the weapons locker. Entering the keycode, he took out a
rifle and several clips of ammunition. Stashing most of them in a pouch on his belt, he loaded the rifle and worked the bolt, then hooked the rifle to a small
strap on his breastplate. Sealing his helmet, he picked up a coil of thick, metallic looking rope and walked towards the airlock.
"They're out there," he replied. "Not in the wreck anymore, I know that much. At a guess, they're sweeping the Dusk."
"What the hell are they? Security Droids or something?"
"Got to be," Ben said as the airlock began cycling. "Whatever happened to that ship put them in a standby mode, probably to defend
survivors." He clipped one end of the cable onto his belt.
"It's a freaking splinter of a ship," Chris protested. "What the hell is left?"
"An escape pod with someone in stasis," Ben noted.
Chris was silent for a moment. "Okay, I'm gonna give you that one."
"Good man," he said, hopping out of the airlock and kneeling on the hull. Moving forward about ten meters, he latched the other end of the cable onto
a hook, then stood up. "Alright you bastards... where are you?" he muttered, raising his rifle and running it over the 'horizon' created by
his ship.
He saw them soon enough, two flickers of silver dancing over the Duskwalker, looking for whatever they were programmed to find. Closing one eye, he watched
through the rifles scope (Not as easy as one would think when wearing a helmet), studied the two drones for a moment, then pulled the trigger. A triple-burst
shot through the space, ripping at one of the drones and tearing one of its maneuvering fins clean off.
In response, the other drone fired, a beam slashing across the ships hull. Ben stepped to the side, firing off another burst, more to keep the drones guessing
then anything else. Focusing on the wounded drone, he fired a third burst, missing.
Both drones closed in, firing on him. He threw himself to the side, cable spinning out behind him. He darted over the hull for a moment, then grabbed the
nearest handhold and jerked to a halt, getting back on his feet and firing his rifle again. The damaged drone was clipped again, spinning down in what looked
like some sort of evasion maneuver, right until it slammed into the hull, shattering.
"One down," he muttered, ducking under another beam, then leaping to the side. A part of his mind complained that Chris had it easy. At least
he'd had some cover. Raising his rifle, he fired off a round and then had to evade again, the remaining drone determined to take him out.
"Ben, I'm on my way!" came the call from Chris.
"By the time you get here-" He cut off mid sentence, leaping to avoid another burst. He shot up at an angle, unable to grab at the ship. Out of the
corner of his eye, he could see the drone spinning to face him. Then, his cable went tight, and momentum pulled him back down towards the ship, and right into
the open airlock. He came back into the ships artificial gravity and slammed into the floor, gasping. Pulling himself to his knees, he raised his rifle,
waited... and opened fire on fully automatic the moment he saw the drone come into view. Not expecting such a barrage, the drone nearly disintegrated, leaving
Ben alone in the silence.
"Correction," he managed, getting his breath back. "It's done." He ejected the mostly empty clip and loaded a fresh one, then sighed.
"You want me to come over there?"
"Well, we do need to figure out how to get this pod out of here," Chris replied.
"Okay. Give me a few minutes."
***
Chris looked down the launch tube, his headlight giving him a good view of the junk blocking it off. There were openings he could see through, but the majority
of the tube was virtually sealed off, some unknown force having crushed it in from above. "This could be a problem."
"Bad?" came the response from Ben, who was currently drifting between the Duskwalker and the wreck.
"Bad. The escape tube is half crushed, the rest full of crap. I don't know if we'll be able to get it open."
"Hang on," he said. "I might be able to find the tube from the outside." As he landed, Ben kicked off at an angle, drifting along the hull.
He pulled himself over the edge and floated along the side, looking over the passageways and corridors that had been ripped open. After a moment, he saw a beam
of light, made by his friends headlamp, stretching out of a small hole in the ship. Following it to its source, he looked over the outside of the launch tube.
"Even worse out here," he admitted with a scowl. "How much space would that pod take up?"
Chris did a quick check. "Seventy, seventy-five percent of the tube. Even if we get this crap out, the roof cave in is going to make it impossible."
He backed up and looked around. "Hey, check about ten meters to your right. Is there a hallway there?"
Glancing over, Ben saw what Chris was looking at, then shifted over. "Yeah, it's here." As he looked down it, he saw the slightly bulky figure
that was his friend emerge from a door. "Hallway looks wide enough."
"Cut the door out, push the pod out?" Chris suggested.
"It'll take a while," he replied. "Looks like it was made of Trinium."
"I'll take the first air cycle," Chris said.
***