Episode Four: Critical Repairs
With gentle thrusts from the engines and some minor adjustments with thrusters, the Marius eases into orbit around Europa. With an unknown mission and no idea when their rescue will arrive, the crew hunkers down for a long stay.
The Space Cruiser USS Marius, CS-1
In orbit around Europa
September 2056
The insertion maneuver went as planned. With a gentle push from the continuous thrust engines, plus some course tweaks using the thrusters, and we were in orbit around Europa at the L2 Lagrange point. Captain Bullard feels that keeping the ship behind Europa reduces our exposure to the radiation pouring out of Jupiter. I’m all for that. We’re going to be out here for a while, and I’d prefer not to grow a third arm or lose my hair.
The chief assigned me to the engineering console on the bridge. The docs still want me on restricted duty, so Chief Jemison finally kicked me out of engineering and sent me here. Which, if I was honest about it, might be for the best. I’ve been feeling tired lately and I’m still having bouts of nausea. I haven’t told anyone, even Marco. Although I think he suspects I’m not quite right yet, since I’ve started complaining about my sore boobs when we make love. If I tell him anything else, he’ll just want to send me back to sick bay, and God knows what the moms will say then. So, I’ve kept it to myself.
Between duty shifts, I was resting in our quarters. Marco was taking a third shift for one of his teammates and I could take some me-time to relax. The entrance chime for the hatch was not welcome, but you never know who might drop by. I levered myself out of my comfy chair and went to greet my not quite unwelcome guest.
I waved the hatch open. Great, it was mom Kate.
“Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
“Don’t ‘what’s up’ me, young lady. You know what’s up. There’s something going on with you, and I’m here to find out what it is.”
“I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.” I waved her to come in.
“I’m not coming in. You and I are going to the med bay. I want you checked.”
“Mom, really. I’m fine.”
“Marco tells me you’re not. You’re coming with me. I’ve arranged for you to have some test and a full workup.”
I figured she’d never go away, so I closed the hatch and followed her around the gravity wheel to the med bay. At least the passageway was looking a little more organized. People had gotten used to the idea of a long stay and had started to get organized. Cleaning up after ourselves might be the only thing we had to keep us from going stir crazy.
At the med bay, the EMT ushered us into an exam room. The auto doc took a blood sample, and I waited for the results. Kate didn’t seem to want to talk. She just sat there giving me an evil look like she does when she’s trying to be tough. I know she’s really a softy, but I let her be in full mom mode. Maybe I can get out of here faster.
The doc walked with a handheld and a quizzical look on her face.
“Well, this is surprising. The test results show you’re perfectly fine.”
Well, that was a relief. “So, I’m OK, just need some rest.”
The doctor smiled at me and Mom.
“Yep. You’ll need rest all right. You’re pregnant.”
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Captain Bullard sat alone, considering his next move. In the privacy of his cabin and exhausted from round-the-clock shifts making repairs and guiding his command to Europa, he eased his usual stiff military posture and slouched in his chair. He knuckled his eyes, which didn’t relieve their soreness, nor his blurred vision. He needed sleep, a clean uniform, and considering the aroma that wafted up from his sweat-stained shirt and wrinkled his nose, maybe even a shower.
The ship was safely in orbit around Europa. Engineering had jury-rigged temporary solutions for the drinking water and sewage treatment problems, and the crew was safe—for now. But using the sewage for fuel had depleted their reserves. Drinking water would be in short supply, and the nukes might not be operational without another fuel source. The depleted fuel reserves might severely compromise his ability to maneuver and face the approaching challenge. Fuentes might have saved the crew, but the captain was not sanguine about their situation.
Two hours ago, he’d received the coded message from Space Force Command on Mars that the SS&T tanker would arrive at Europa in a week. SS&T was now under Space Force and InterSol control, but the Horns of Ammon, as they’d learned was its name, was ignoring commands from Space Force. Directives to stand down and change course went unanswered. SS&T was refusing to provide any help or even share details of the tanker’s capabilities and crew complement with Space Force or InterSol. The communique from General Buckley had hinted that SS&T thought their political clout would come to bear.
The captain indulged in a derisive chuckle when he’d read that. We’ll see.
The tanker remained on course, and he’d received direct orders to interdict it. With minimal fuel, rendezvousing with the ship was iffy at best. Sure, he still had weapons, but he was loath to assault and disable a possibly unarmed ship.
Either way, he needed to get the crew prepared for another confrontation. It would be months before the tanker arrived, but they had to draft plans and ready the ship—every day would count.
But right now he would clean up and get the first full night’s sleep he’d had in a month.
Tomorrow was soon enough to share their classified mission with the crew.