Project Charon 3: Survival Mode

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Tina pulled herself hand over hand through the corridor of the Starfighter Manila, floating against a very low pull in the downward direction. Now that the ship had stopped accelerating, whatever pull of fake gravity had dissipated and she floated in near-weightlessness. The feeling was odd.

In her own ship, she would have unfolded the rotating habitats and a semblance of gravity would have returned. But the Starfighter Manila was very much not her own ship, and giant military ships of the Starfighter class, apparently, didn’t hold with such frippery as artificial gravity. Because that was for weak civilians who liked their coffee to stay in their cups and not float through the cabin, like a ticking time bomb, waiting to meet with disaster in the form of someone’s head or an instrument panel.

Fancy that.

The people coming up in the corridor behind her, a pitiful bunch of crew Tina had rescued from Aurora Station, were chatting, some of them excitedly because they had never been to the ship’s bridge, even though some of them had served on board for a long time. Junior crew just did not come to the bridge, the domain of the captain and flight crew. These women worked in the bowels of the ship and stuck to their stations, adhering to stiff military protocol.

But this was anything but a standard situation.

And excitement wasn’t something anyone should feel, at least not if they understood their dire predicament.

Deep s**t was an understatement.

Tina wasn’t looking forward to telling these women that. They’d escaped from a prison cell at Aurora Station, and any freedom was better than being locked up in the dark with a group of others, right?

Well, maybe.

She floated through the opening into the open bridge space. The emptiness of the room was in stark contrast with how she remembered the bridges and control centres of any large ship or station she had visited to be.

The bridge of the Manila was a huge cube-shaped space with control screens along the perimeter. Like every other room in the ship, it had no floor or ceiling, and was designed to be operated from all angles, although there was a ladder in the middle of the room, which seemed to go sideways at an odd angle, but it would go to the direction that was “down” when the ship docked at a station.

Not today.

The workstations hung in a loosely arranged cube formation in the middle of the room, suspended from a framework of metal bars that joined up with the sideways-ladder and cris-crossed the space. Each workstation consisted of a Zero-G chair with straps to hold the occupant in their position and one or more work consoles that could be rotated in the desired direction.

Screens of transparent material protected the command panels in the walls from rogue flying objects—or escaped coffee—when the ship made fast moves. The effect was that the bridge’s control stations sat inside a transparent aquarium-like cubicle, surrounded by screens that flickered with information.

“Wow,” someone said behind her, a young female voice.

Tina knew, having served on these big ships herself, that going to the bridge was a major thing for the low-ranking crew.

Tina let go and floated across to a holdfast post in the middle of the bridge room.

“Wow” did not describe her current reaction. Her feeling was one of sadness and apprehension. This place was supposed to be busy and bustling.

But most of the control stations were empty, except for the two most important ones: the first and second pilot stations which faced the opposite wall.

They were occupied by the only two people in this massive room: Aliz, the pilot, and Evelle, Tina’s daughter, acting as co-pilot. Aliz had to do two jobs: both fly the ship and give instructions to Evelle, who was normally in charge of navigation but now acted as co-pilot.

There was no one else to do the job. Tina, in turn, had temporarily left her post at the navigation console in order to call the rest of the crew onto the bridge now that it seemed they were safe.

She was exhausted from the strain of having to guide the ship to safety and learning to use the system at the same time. Tina knew about navigation, but nothing about this giant, powerful, deathly and hugely under-crewed war ship felt natural. On top of that, she’d been out of the Federacy Force for over fifteen years and struggled to remember any of the jargon.

They needed resources and people.

That was the predicament they were facing.

The small band of crew all floated into the middle of the room to the holdfast bay, looking around with wide eyes.

They were a sad collection of sixteen people, not even five percent of the crew normally on board this ship.

Aliz swivelled her chair, so she faced the group in the same direction, strapped in to make sure she didn’t float away.

Some people acknowledged her with nods. Some others looked simply too stunned to do even that.

Aliz started talking, her voice formal. “Those of you who missed my earlier announcement, welcome to the bridge of the Starfighter Manila. It seems we’ve escaped the station safely, while managing to cool down our overheating engines. Temperatures have returned to normal and we can focus on the next stage. We’re down about two thousand crew, so whatever we do from here on is going to be interesting. I’m Captain Aliz Paduano, one of the three first pilots originally consigned to this ship. The other two rotating pilots, Captain Yoshimoto and Captain Menkman, were captured by the pirates and are not with us. Sadly, they were left behind on the station. I have no idea of their fate. This is Flight Officer Evelle Freeman, filling in as co-pilot, because we have no adequately trained people to do this job, so I’ll be instructing her. In fact, that should tell you all you need to know about our predicament. Evelle and I will take command of the vessel. Because I am too busy to lead our group as well as look after the ship, the first thing we need to establish is who will lead our operation. I would like to propose Tina Freeman, who is the only reason that we got out of the station at all, and yes you heard that correctly, she is Evelle’s mother. I’ll hand over to her.”

Aliz turned around, attended to something at the controls and swivelled back again while attention of the group went from her to Tina.

“It’s an honour to lead you,” Tina began. “You don’t know me, so here is a small introduction. I’m Evelle’s mother. I have a son, Rex, who is still at the station, hopefully soon to be joined by the other two members of the party I was travelling with in my private ship. A long time ago, I used to be a Research Officer with the Force, but I left fifteen years ago, and have been running a security business at Cayelle. How I got to Aurora Station is a long story you may hear one day, when we get the time to sit around and share drinks. I left the Force a long time ago, and I no longer fit the characteristics of a Federacy Officer. I’m not going to run around yelling orders. I’m more interested in keeping as many people as possible in this group alive. Make no mistake, that will be hard enough. So I encourage comments and questions—yes.”

A hand shot up.

It belonged to a woman with dark hair in a severe bun and a heavy brow.

“What do you mean when you say our operation? Is there an operation?” She seemed very direct.

“Before you comment, state your name and function,” Aliz said.

“Yonta Macmillan, dock control officer. I want to know what we’re doing, since we have far too few crew members to engage with the pirate fleet.”

“The priority is to take us and the ship to safety,” Aliz said. “We’re not planning to engage with the pirate fleet.”

“That seems somewhat optimistic. The fleet might engage with us,” said a woman with a loud voice.

“State your name and function,” Aliz reminded her.

“Sorry. Sarina DeLeon. Tech Officer second class. Port comms.” She had a head full of springy curls and lively eyes that, right now, looked angry.

“The safety of the ship and crew is paramount.” Tina repeated Aliz’s words.

“So, you’re saying we’re going to run,” Sarina said.

She looked at Tina as if challenging her to argue, but Tina didn’t want to give any of the women the faintest skerrick of an idea that getting involved in a fight with the pirate fleet would lead anywhere good. Not with this ship in its current condition.

When the silence lingered, Sarina continued, “Where are we going to run to?”

Tina answered, “I was at Aurora Station because we were underway to Olympus to present information to the Assembly. I would still like to do that. I understand Olympus is this ship’s base.”

Women looked at each other, uneasy. No one said anything for a while.

That was clearly not the answer they had expected.

“So… we’re going to Olympus? Is that the operation?” Sarina asked.

“Why would we do that?” someone else asked. She didn’t introduce herself. She was quite young, in her thirties, and wore her sand-coloured hair in a ponytail.

Tina said, “I have some information that I’d like to pass onto them.”

“And you can’t send it?”

“Don’t forget to introduce yourself,” Aliz said.

“Sorry. Lisette Mann. Admin officer. I can help if you need something sent. I mean—is it important enough that you need to deliver it in person? Olympus is the official base of all Federacy ships. We came out of Pegasus and if we’re going back to base, Pegasus would be it, right?” She glanced sideways at Aliz.

Aliz did not react, because she was looking at something on her control panel.

Tina hesitated. Was it that important to go to Olympus? Her data was more than fifteen years old. Olympus hadn’t wanted her data, even if it had sat in a box owned by the Force for all that time. Was there anyone at Olympus who would care?

She said, “It was why I was here with my private ship. I have a crew member who comes from Olympus and was giving him a ride home. I don’t know if it makes sense for this ship to go there. This is why we’re holding this meeting. We need to figure out what to do next.”

“I don’t think we should flee,” Lisette continued. Her cheeks were red.

“I agree,” said another, louder voice. “Sorry. Zafira Calhoun. Systems Officer First Class. That’s IT. I don’t know what we’re likely to find at Olympus, but I’d very much prefer to stay as far away from that place as possible because it’s full of clueless politicians who are as likely to slap some stupid rule on us as I am to accidentally wring any of their necks.”

Several other women nodded.

“We can’t leave our crew mates,” another woman said, who also didn’t introduce herself. “I don’t like running. I don’t like abandoning our mates.”

Others agreed.

An uncomfortable feeling came over Tina. Yet she understood the sentiment. “I’m not sure that trying to rescue the others is going to be feasible,” she began, picking her words carefully. She didn’t know how much these women had seen of what had happened to most of the Manila’s crew.

Or if they had seen it, how much they understood. Or even how much they wanted to believe. When Tina had walked through the lab on the way to where the women had been locked up, she had seen all the men and the different stages of their transformation into monstrous beings. She had seen the pirate leader Artan.

But the women had only seen their mates encased in glass cubicles. Imprisoned. They saw their mates needing rescue. Only the ones they could still recognise. Not the ones whose former identities could only be determined from the crew numbers on their uniforms.

When Tina had walked through that lab, she’d had the time to work this out. Once they’d escaped from the prison cell, and the others had been with her, there hadn’t been the time for them to wander around, for her to explain or show them.

It was a truth many would find hard to accept.

“I think we should sneak into the station to rescue as many of them as possible,” said another woman. “Then we will have more crew to fly the ship.” She glanced at Aliz.

“Mention your name and function, please,” Aliz reminded her.

“Sorry Clodine Vermont. Weapons tech officer.”

She met Tina’s eyes in a defiant look. She wore her sand-coloured hair in a tight bun.

“I understand your solidarity with your mates,” Tina said.

“Understand? They are our family.” Her eyes were fierce. “We should always be there for them. We would expect them to do the same for us.”

“We are going to need help before we can take any meaningful action.”

“Like what sort of action?” Clodine said. “What does that even mean? Who is going to come to help us? No one else is in this area. Our ship wasn’t captured here. The pirates towed us here, because this is their patch of space. I’m not leaving our mates here.”

“For one, we can’t sneak into the station unnoticed. We can hardly rock up in this ship or the fighter craft in the docking bay.”

“Isn’t that what the fighters are for? Fighting? We’re a f*****g war ship.”

“Randomly attack a civilian station and cross our fingers that we don’t kill the population? There are close to a million people on Aurora Station.”

“Who said we were going to do that? We’re not dumb. We’re trained military officers.”

“Yes, in managing the kitchens and admin.”

“Who are you to tell us what we can do? You know nothing about us.”

“Stop arguing!” Aliz called out.

Everyone fell quiet.

Aliz continued, “You will not interrupt Tina. And also, I will tell you that taking the fighters to the station is futile. They can’t take passengers. They’re too small and don’t have the right docking capability. We have no one to fly them. And the ship is likely to have sustained damage when the engine overheated. We might be able to make evasive manoeuvres if needed, but we’re not going to risk a conflict by doing stupid things. No one will be fighting anything.”

This was followed by a deep silence.

“Whatever we do, we need to be extremely careful,” Tina said, in a milder tone. “We may have one chance at going back for the men, if we think it is feasible and desirable.”

“Of course it is desirable,” several women said at the same time.

And then Yonta said, “Are we supposed to vote on who is going to lead us?”

“Do you have a problem with Tina?” Aliz asked.

“I’d rather that one of us got the job, because this person would understand what we want. I’d volunteer to take the position.”

Some of the women nodded.

One of the men, who had been silent this far, said, “Yeah. I agree.”

Tina looked from Aliz and Evelle to Yonta and the other women and the three men.

She let out a breath. “I don’t mind. If you think it would be better—”

Aliz interjected. “I’m the highest-ranked officer on board. If you don’t like it that Tina leads the group, then I will do it. This is a Federacy Force ship and we’ll follow Force rules, which state that in an emergency, the highest-ranked officer will be in charge of decision-making.”

“Then why get a non-Force person to lead us?” Yonta said.

“Because Tina knows the area, and she knows more about the pirates than all of us combined. And, as I’ve already said, I’m occupied with the ship, so I don’t want to do it.”

“She doesn’t understand us.”

“Tina is ex-Force. She understands that lower-ranked troops do one thing: follow orders. She tried to be friendly and treat you on an even footing. But since that hasn’t worked, you can listen to her, or listen to me, and without me, no one is going anywhere. It’s up to you. There is only one thing I will absolutely not stand for, and that is endangering this ship and losing any more crew. Whatever we do, I’m open to suggestions, as long as we adhere to those two things, and as long as we’ve listened to the advice of people in our group most likely to know what they’re talking about.”

Her words echoed in the large space. Evelle found something to do on a control panel. The women glared at Aliz, Tina or each other.

For a long time, no one said anything.

No one challenged the leadership. Did that mean Tina was still in charge?