Episode Eleven: Battle Stations
The Marius has a chance to survive and maybe deal a blow to the invaders. Celina is worried for her sister—again.
The Space Cruiser USS Marius, CS-1
In orbit around Io, the environs of Jupiter
June 2056
The hatch to the bridge cycled open, and Celeste jumped through, steadying herself with a quick grasp of a handhold mounted on the bulkhead. She wore a tight-fitting liquid cooling garment the astronauts wear under their environment suits.
This could not be good. Celeste was thinking she was going outside.
I couldn’t help myself. “Celeste, you are out of your mind if you think you’re going out there.”
Celeste just smirked.
“Don’t give me that look. Have you been watching? You go out there, you’ll die. What’s the matter with you?”
Celeste’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t need a lecture from you, Celina. Some of us have to take risks. When was …”
Captain Bullard spun around. “That’s enough out of you two. Dr. Chandler, keep it to yourself.” He turned his attention to Celeste. “What do you have in mind, Watson?”
Celeste released her handhold and glided over, locking her slippers in a deck restraint. “As you know, Engine One reactor is going supercritical in less than thirty minutes. Engineering is disconnecting all the electrical and fuel leads right now. We want to take a construction tug aft and grab the reactor when they fire the explosive bolts, and it drifts free.”
The captain looked skeptical. “And what would that achieve?”
Celeste took a deep breath. “We’d grab the reactor and drive the tug into the invaders’ whirlpool. I’d be surprised if they could withstand a megaton-level explosion as the reactor red lines.”
I gasped. “No way, Celeste. You can’t. It’s suicide.” The hot tears just flooded out. My sister—why does she do this? Our mothers can’t be OK with this. This has to stop. I slumped against my restraints, sobbing, and I didn’t care who heard me.
The captain flashed an annoyed look my way but let me cry. “Watson, your sister’s right. It would be suicide.”
“No, Captain. The tug needs two operators, a pilot, and someone to work the arms. A second tug would follow. Once our tug with the reactor is on its way, the pilot, Ahmed, has volunteered, and I would exit the airlock, where the second tug would pick us up and bring us back to the ship.”
The captain took a moment to consider.
Suddenly, the bridge monitors flashed as another blast of red plasma launched from the planet. Again, the sapphire countermeasure from Shield Officer 1 mitigated some of the blast. However, the bulk of the energy crashed into the ship, forcing a shudder through the bridge. Fortunately, the shield held, and the plasma dissipated.
The captain turned back to Celeste. “OK, Watson. It’s risky, but we’re out of options. I don’t know how many more of those we can take. Get going.”
I risked the captain’s ire. “Celeste, you can’t. Why you?”
Celeste freed her feet from the deck restraints and floated over. She gave my shoulder a quick squeeze and smiled. “No worries, Sis. We’ve got this.”
Celeste spun away and exited through the hatch where Ahmed was waiting without another word. I wished her good luck silently and struggled to stop crying. Turning back to my workstation, I forced myself to resume monitoring Lexi. I would have to work through the bolts of anxiety running through my body—hands shaking, eyes tearing.
Celeste had to come home. I wished that with everything in my heart, knowing that there was nothing I could do to keep her safe.
###
The aft-facing cameras captured the two tugs speeding towards the damaged engine. Celeste’s tug slowed and took up position near the reactor pod. All eyes on the bridge, except the captain’s, were focused on the action at the rear. I glanced at the captain. He was watching our adversary on Jupiter.
The bridge speaker crackled. “Bridge, this is Engineering. We’re all set.”
The captain took a glance around the bridge.
“Engineering—eject the core.”
A ring of silent explosions sparked around the base of the pod, and the reactor was ejected into space.
I gripped the arms of my chair, knuckles cracking, as the first tug raced in and grabbed the pod, spun on its axis, and headed towards Jupiter. The second tug fired its engines and moved to the front of the ship, halting behind the shield’s edge.
We all watched, hushed and tense on the bridge, as tug one flew past the bridge module, past the ablative shield, and straight to the turbulence marking the invaders’ location. The tug’s engine exhaust brightened, and I could see it accelerate. Suddenly, two figures jetted from the airlock but still drifted towards Jupiter, caught in the planet’s immense gravity despite their jetpacks. The tug’s engine increased power again and rocketed towards the invaders. Thrusters fired as the tug zig-zagged to avoid the invaders’ beam weapons.
The second tug stayed suspended at the edge of the shield.
I screamed silently with the delay. Celeste was almost beyond the rescue zone.
The captain punched the comms button. “Reynolds, what’s the hold-up? Get that tug moving.”
“Bridge, this is Reynolds. The main ignition sequence went offline. I’m re-initializing.”
“Skip the safeties, Reynolds. Get that tug moving.”
Suddenly, a brilliant flash blossomed from the planet. Swirls of turbulence flooded the space where the whirlpool had been—ejections of super-heated gas burst from Jupiter in a dome of nuclear fire fifty kilometers across. An enormous shockwave sped across the surface and out into space. The radiation readings went off the scale—and Celeste was in the middle of it all.
The shockwave slammed into Celeste and Ahmed. Their jetpacks were useless. Flung through space like rag dolls, they flailed and spun out of control. We watched as the blast catapulted them back towards the ship. A ball of white-hot energy flashed, searing one of the suited figures. Their jetpack exploded, almost bending them in half, catapulting them away from the other.
Finally, the second tug’s engine fired, and it rushed to the rescue. The tug grabbed the nearest figure, made a fast-braking burn, and headed to the second. A quick spark of thrusters and the tug encircled the burned suit in its manipulator’s arms—we had them both.
“Bridge. This is medical. Their readings show both our people are in distress. They need to get to the medical bay on the gravity ring immediately. We already have the hatch open.”
“Understood Medical. Reynolds. You heard them. Best speed to the ship.”
The comms officer swiveled towards the captain. “Captain. One is calling from the planet.”
“Put them on speaker.”
“Bullard of the Marius, this is One of the People. We thank you for your sacrifice. The invaders are no longer. Their devices have been destroyed, and we are redistributing the food and energy they robbed us of.”
“That is good news, One. And send our thanks to the one of the People we called Shield Officer 1.”
“I can’t do that, Bullard. That one’s special abilities were no longer needed. We reabsorbed it into the body of the People. Thank you again. That is all.” The speaker clicked off.
The comms officer worked her console hurriedly, to no effect. “They’re gone, Captain. Not answering our hail.”
“We can’t judge, but that seems heartless.” The captain turned to me. “Dr. Chandler, what does your AI say?”
“Lexi confirms they are no longer generating any signal in the kilometer band, and the centimeter bands are also dead. It must be over, Captain.”
“We’ll see, Dr. Chandler. We’ll see. We still have Saturn and Uranus to worry about.”
The captain must have noted my anxiety. He waved me towards the hatch. “Go see your sister. We’ll manage here for now.”
I murmured a thank you, unbuckled, and rushed from the bridge.