Humanity in the Deep

The Alice was easily keeping pace with the two behemoths that were making their approach to the Erikson.

Roger was happy that the quarantine ships were gone, at least. The council had been able to get the locals to pull them back in return for agreeing to the meeting.

He was piloting the Alice, he sincerely hoped he would not have to use the laser or the rail gun. He hoped even more that he would not have to kill.

Both local ships were making their way along the courses they had agreed to. As the tension died down, Roger noticed that Thomas was humming. Just like the last time he manned the engineering station. He was currently going over sensor data; the Alice was close enough to the local ships to get more and different kinds of data than the Erikson had been able to gather so far. He was obviously excited.

Dianna was co-pilot again.

“Shit, answers that question,” Thomas said in a quick outburst.

“We have quite a few unanswered questions, details please,” Dianna said from the co-pilot seat.

“They must be using an old-style fission reactor, one with a steam turbine. Only way the radiation they’re giving off would make any sense. No wonder they’re only going half a G. It’s a miracle the ships work at all.”

“Request permission to call this in.”

“Permission granted,” Roger said.

Thomas had just finished explaining what he found to the Erikson when the approaching ships made their final approach.

So far, everything was going according to plan, the Diplomatic ship was following its assigned course as it was shown on Roger’s boards.

Roger thought that maybe it would work out. After all, some things were done better face to face, even if everyone would be talking through translators.

At least, that was what the news was saying.

“Preparing for final approach,” Roger said as he throttled down the plasma drive and switched to jets. He turned the Alice, for her to take up station over both local ships.

Then the diplomatic ship veered off-course.

Almost immediately, Roger heard the XO’s voice over the radio, on a subchannel that carried the original message before it was translated. “This is Erikson C&C; you are off- course. You have thirty seconds to explain.”

On an encrypted channel, he said, “Pilot Powell, at your own discretion, if either ship does anything to risk the Erikson or the Alice, open fire on both ships. Don’t wait for my order.”

Roger began to sweat. It took more nerve than he wanted to admit to calmly say, “Lock helmets. Prepare for high G maneuvers.”

Above all else, he was an artist; he valued life, he valued beauty, but he would do what he had to do.

Roger heard all of their helmets lock, then he hit the button that injected high G drugs into them.

As before, they made the world seem slow and his motions sluggish despite his reaction speed increasing.

Roger turned the main engines back on and shot the Alice forward and above both local ships while turning the ship’s laser to face them.

He heard the commander say, “This is your final warning. Return to your assigned course or be fired upon.”

“Holy shit!” Dianna all but yelled as more than a dozen small objects were ejected from each ship, all at the same time.

They burned as soon as they were clear of the local ships.

They could only be missiles.

They were heading for the Alice, at nearly point-blank range.

“I can’t do it! They’re too many!” Dianna shouted.

He instantly saw that she was right. There was no way she could get that many with the laser. He turned the boat while yelling, “Pilot override! Disengage all engine safeties!”

He did a full burn.

It was the hardest thing he’d ever done. He ran from Kat, he ran from the people who had given him a home, and a place he never knew he needed.

---

Kat was bored. Things were going as planned, so all the interesting things were going to happen elsewhere.

When she had agreed to the marine training, she imagined feeling many things, but boredom was not one of them.

Scared to death, or angry. Mostly angry, she was comfortable with angry. But not boredom.

Life was easier when Roger was around. He almost made her forget about what she was responsible for; what her failure meant.

It was difficult to forget when she was bored.

Adrian had taken command of the honor guard. Yes, he was the most experienced, but that did not make it any less annoying to be stuck in engineering.

While making yet another circuit her earpiece, which was set to receive the relay officer in C&C, started talking.

“The diplomatic ship is off-course. I repeat, the diplomatic ship is off-course.” She then cut to the XO. “This is your final warning. Return to your assigned course or be fired upon.”

Kat stopped dead in her tracks. As did almost everyone else who had an earpiece.

Harken bellowed, “Seal all Hatches! I want all block air tanks fully stocked and isolated!”

Kat brought up the composite maps of what was happening outside the ship on her wristcomp. She was looking at it when she heard Lieutenant JG Austin starting talking in her ear again, “Shit, Fuck. They fired missiles.”

Kat’s heart nearly broke as she saw them streak toward the Alice. Roger was running but more than two dozen missiles were right behind him.

She was only brought back to where she was by the deck, shaking badly. It felt like an earthquake, if there could have been an earthquake on a ship.

“Hit, hit! The temp lock on the white ring has been hit. I repeat, lock on white has been hit!”

She imagined everyone there dead, the captain, the council, all the marines who had trained with her. She felt her anger consume her for once she did not even try to push it down.

She embraced it.

---

“Move the bulkheads, lock boots, and exhale!” Lieutenant Moisey yelled at the top of his lungs as he jumped to the bulkhead near an emergency locker.

The captain had started the jump before Moisey had finished. He locked his boots to the bulkhead then exhaled as hard as he could. It had been more than fifty years since he’ had had to breathe hard vacuum, but some things, he would never forget.

He saw all the hatches close. From the pattern of lights above them, all the hatches in the ring had closed. Someone was thinking fast, he hoped he would survive to commend them.

A few seconds later, about half had done as Moisey had said and were moving to the bulkheads. Only a few made it before the room shook. It was indescribable, more powerful than even the one and only time the captain had been near a meteor collision.

Patel felt the air rip from the compartment before the shaking stopped.

Closing his eyes, he waited for the pain to start and for it to grow dead silent.

He was damn lucky one of his boots was still stuck to the bulkhead when the air finished leaving the compartment. Feeling around, he found a large button and hit it with all the force he could.

He was feeling faint when he was finally able to put an e-mask on. He pulled the ripcord and felt the epoxy mix, and gluing itself to his face.

The captain slung the small backpack with the air supply on then opened his eyes. He saw Lieutenant Moisey putting a mask on as well.

They turned and started to take the scene in. The hull was peeled and ripped outward. Everything not tied down was gone. It looked like at least half a dozen people were missing.

The rest had managed to lock their boots. Many of them were next to bulkheads, but only a few were still moving, and those not quickly.

The sight harried the captain to action. The few who were still moving were losing the coordination they needed to put masks on. Quickly grabbing several masks, he jumped over to the nearest person, a marine unknown to the captain. A boy no older than twenty.

He tried not to look at the large hole and rips in the hull underneath him.

Putting the mask on the boy’s face, he pulled the ripcord and waited for it to set. After the edge changed from red to green, he then hit both buttons inset on the side. Air and a mix of drugs were pumped into the boy’s mouth.

The captain breathed a short prayer of thanks when he saw the boy breathe. Moving on to the next person, he used the next mask.

Between him and the Lieutenant, they managed to silently put masks on twenty people. Most of the time, their eyes opened with shock when the air entered their mouth.

A few times, they did not.

But that was all they could save. They ran out of masks. More than twenty people were left with only minutes. Every second increased the odds that their lungs couldn’t be re-inflated.

The captain pulled the earplugs out of his e-mask, put them in his ears and squeezed the end, causing them to expand. The plugs outgassed a small amount after sealing themselves to his ear canals.

After touching his wristcomp to the e-mask and establishing a link he said, “Emergency, call C&C.”

“Captain, we thought the—...”

Cutting her off, “I need somewhere close that can hold an atmosphere.” As he was talking he saw Moisey grab a fistful of nitro injectors, and look at him.

Nitro was dangerous, but it was there for a reason. The captain nodded. They would need help moving those people without masks. May the gods have mercy on his soul in the next life, but most of the people that they had given masks to were too weak to help.

“Two compartments upship on the left, sir. It looks uncracked.”

“Evacuate it, then open the hatch. Patel signing off.” He cut to local. “Two rooms upship on the left, grab someone and show the way.”

“Yes, sir,” Mosey said as he grabbed a young marine and injected him with nitro.

The captain used his last nitro injector on a marine, about half the people there were awake and alert, if a little too jumpy for the captain’s liking.

The captain, with everyone watching him, slowly grabbed the nearest unmasked man and put him in a zero-G carry. He then gestured at the hatch. A moment later, he had engaged his boots and was mag-walking as fast as he could to the hatch.

The man on his shoulders felt heavy as he braced himself before jumping forward and upship, flipping and landing on his feet.

He managed to get into the compartment with the others in three jumps. When inside, he put the man on his back down and jumped back, making it in two jumps that time.

There were only four people left, he and Adrian, who had followed the captain, were somehow able to get all four back upship quickly to join the others.

As he Captain Patel yelled into the local channel,

“Officer override! emergency pressurization compartment white ten five eight!”

The lights above the hatch changed and air rushed in.

Those with masks were able to take them off and use them to try and re-inflate the lungs of those without.

The captain slowly took his mask off Spokesman Nyda’s wise face. It had not worked; it had been too long. He was dead. The man who had sponsored his emigration, who’s guiding hand and thoughtful presence had averted many disaster’s. He slowly closed his friend’s eyes.

He was a good and honorable man who put others before himself.

The attack was not self-defense; it was not even war. It was murder. He ran from his home once, and he was not going to do it again.

He took a few deep breaths and then opened up a channel to the C&C while looking at the dead. He stared at them, forcing himself to never forget.

---

“Flipping!,” Roger yelled, even though Dianna and Thomas were right next to him. Roger suddenly went from feeling like he was made of lead to light as a feather as he quickly rotated the ship completely around. That gave Dianna a small window to use the single laser to try and swat the missiles coming at them.

Out of the corner of his eye, Roger saw at least one missile go up.

He righted the Alice and burned again before any of the others found their mark.

He brought them quickly up to two G’s, then after checking everything over, he brought them up to six.

They had flipped several times. Each time, trying to take out more of the missiles.

Roger was unwilling to give up on going back to help the Erikson, so they were not trying to just outrun them.

Of course, for all they knew, the Alice couldn’t outrun them.

Unfortunately, the laser was mounted in the forward ventral section of the boat. It couldn’t fire at targets behind and dorsal of them. Whoever had programmed the missiles, took advantage of that and they only got a few before he started flipping.

He waited what he hoped was long enough to put the missiles at the ideal distance before he moved his finger and he lost most of the weight on his chest as he dropped them down to two G’s.

He turned them slightly to port then starboard to give the sensors on the sides a better chance to see the missiles. He could not veer too much, or they would lose the lead they had.

“Ready,” Dianna said.

“Flipping!,” Roger yelled as he throttled down the plasma drive then spun them over with the jets, feeling nauseous.

He quickly stopped the rotation and held them steady for a few seconds.

A radiation spike registered on his board as at least one missile went up.

After the hot jets stopped and they were righted again, he reached for the controls that would turn the plasma drive back on.

That was when he was jerked forward, his faceplate snapping shut as he lost consciousness.

---

They had no contact with the group that was going to greet the locals.

None.

They were probably dead.

Just like the poor people in the black ring central corridor when the locals had decided to make their own airlock.

Kat could see them advance on the map, opening hatches to the vacuum behind them, casually killing everyone in their way. They entered the downship transit. Coming to the engine room, if she did not miss her guess.

They were coming to kill her, her friends, and her family.

She drew her rifle and gripped it so tight it hurt, while looking at Sergeant Tucker, waiting for orders.

He was in charge of the marines guarding the engine room, and her boss at that moment. He was one of the part-time cops.

Kat watch them go through the transit in old-fashion hard suits.

Looking at Kat, he said, “Sergeant Loke secure that hatch,” while pointing across the engine room to the lock on the other side.

She hesitated, stunned for a second. then said, “We need to send people out to flank them. If we take the go-to upship one level, we can attack them before they get here. Maybe even set up a crossfire.”

“No, we outnumber them and are defending. We need to stay together.”

Kat looked into his eyes and realized he was frightened—, no, he was terrified. He was not going to make the right call.

Kat made sure to talk slowly and carefully, “We have more than enough people for that. We need to give them something else to do, and a flank will do that. Just give me three people. If we don’t go now, we never will.”

She pushed herself a few inches off the deck and looked down on him. It was kind of a cheap trick, but she needed to get him to say yes. “Fine, go. Take three people from your squad and go,” he said then and wondered off.

She grabbed Johnson, Smith, and Alex on her way out to the corridor. She saw fear and determination in their eye’s, but she got them moving before they could think too much.

As they left for the go-to hatch, the other marines were setting up behind consoles and putting masks on.

The go-to hatch was the only way between blocks without taking the main corridor that went down the middle of the ship. It was a heavy hatch that was put in so people could move about during catastrophic air loss.

Kat didn’t think the locals would know about the go-to’s, but she couldn’t do anything about it, so she tried to not think about it.

They went through the hatch and went upship one level; her feet barely touched the bulkheads as she flew through them.

After what felt like too long, they got to the lock two blocks upship from the engine room.

She heard an explosion over her wrist comp, she looked down and saw it was still set to show the engine room block. They were surrounding the engine room just one more lock to blow before they could get at everyone inside.

Choosing not to think how many might be dead, she pulled up the camera feed from the other side of the hatch she was facing.

She said, “Alex clamp on there.” She pointed to above her head. “You go left, I will get the center, and Johnson, you go right. Smith, you keep an eye behind us.”

With two of them latched to the bulkhead opposite the hatch, she opened the lock as fast as she could.

The four guards were standing around the lock leading into the engine room block. They were just standing there, like it was something they did every day. It took them a few seconds to look in Kat’s direction.

“Fire!!!”

In that window, they opened fire, aiming at the one in the middle. She heard several pings, then and a loud crack as blood poured from him.

A few more shots into his back and he went limp, floating there with one leg attached to the deck.

The others crouched and shot back, except for two who moved toward them. That gave Kat an idea.

She quickly closed the hatch, as Johnson reached for the lock, Kat said, “Don’t, we want them to chase us.”

Kat hurried back the way they had come, deeper into the block.

---

It had been years since his last fight, Mosey thought. Last real one, anyway. Breaking up bar fights and the odd bachelor party was the closest he got after he was hired onto the Erik. He spent more time teaching history than anything else.

Yet, there he was, about to be shot at again. He felt like the man he had been before he mustered out.

He looked at Martin and John. They were afraid, but they lacked the youthful eagerness most marines had the first time they went into combat. Like everyone on the flying beer can he called home, they thought too much. He at least hoped the nitro was out of their systems; they would be jumpy enough without it.

Sadly, they were all the captain let him take. The rest of his marines were helping people in the white ring. Many people were injured or trapped. Adrian would bet anything it was a raid, the locals could not be so stupid as to try and capture a ship of five thousand with less than a hundred men, no matter how well-armed.

Mosey was never a builder or a healer. He was a soldier and he was going to do his duty. Unlike before, it was not to protect some corp’s ship, or to invade some pirate base it was protecting his home.

Lieutenant Austin, the relay officer, came over his earpiece and said, “...I repeat, the locals are splitting up at the downship transit. Approximately twenty are heading downship. Approximately six are heading upship. Stay in your compartments. I repeat...”

“I know you’re scared and angry. You have no time for fear now.

“Follow me and do what I do, and you’ll be fine.” He hoped they could hold it together.”

They arrived at the bottom of the strut, looking up at the upship transit. The transit was the large round room that sat in the middle of the ring. Everyone had to go through it to get into the white ring or go to the forward section of the ship.

Adrian saw someone in a hard-shell suit go across the transit. He motioned for them to make themselves flush with the wall of the strut. Martin moved his weapon up, but Adrian held his arm.

“Sorry.”

After waiting for the sixth target to pass, they made their way carefully to the top of the strut. Adrian pulled up thermals for the transit and had them overlay over his E-mask briefly.

“Fire on my fire!!!,” he said as he got to the end of the transit, locked his boots to the top of the strut, and made ready to lean over the lip to face upship and fire.

Except they were gone, turning his thermal on again, he saw they were not upship at all, not heading to the bridge at all.

They were heading to the boat ring, not the bridge.

Of course, they had only sent six people. Hardly enough to assault the bridge, but more than enough to take a boat. He should have thought of it.

The relay officer yelled, “If you’re in the boat ring, get out!!! The locals are entering the boat ring!!!”

Without a hint of emotion, he said, “Those six are entering the boat ring. Follow me.”

With the civilian grade thermal overlay on, he could tell where the locals were only because he knew the ship well, even places he rarely went like the boat ring. The thermal was not even made for tracking people but for damage control.

Making one last check at the location of the invaders, he quickly leapt to the other side of the transit. Seeing the other two were behind him, he ran a few steps using his grip boots and jumped past the end of the transit out into the large upship corridor, grabbing the lip so he could swing “upward.” He opened the hatch before him.

Entering the corridor, he ascended as fast as he could.

They reached the top of the boat ring. They had one and only one chance to surprise them.

When all three of them were planted to the side of the hatch, he counted down with his fingers. When he got to one, he opened it quickly.

They fired but only one of the locals floated listlessly; the others went out a hatch behind them. They had someone in a maintenance tech’s clothing hanging limp between them.

Moisey rushed to open the hatch where the invaders had went, but it was sealed.

They were going around the long way towards one of the other locks around the curve of the ship when the deck lurched.

---

Kat leaned out the doorway and saw them. She hardly noticed that there were four, not the two she expected as she started shooting.

Her people had led them to the end of the corridor then circled around, through a few cross-connecting doors and hatches. They were ready to start a crossfire.

She yelled, “Now!,” as she leaned out, took aim, and fired.

She held firm and fired until she was out of ammo. The sound was deafening, but it felt far away. She reloaded before realizing they were just floating, and she could see blood and bits of their hard suits floating next to them.

She walked over to them, enjoying her handiwork when she saw Alex down the corridor.

He was standing over Smith, and when Kat got closer, she saw a hole in his head.

He almost looked peaceful, almost.

He was dead.

At least some of the people who had been at the white ring airlock were dead, maybe all of them. But it was different up close, different when the people who were killed were following her. Her vision went red and she found herself back at the lock that opened to the tube. The same hatch they were chased through. Past the hatch were more of the assholes who had killed Smith. She didn’t even know his first name.

On a ship with only a few thousand people, and she didn’t know his name.

She opened the hatch and saw many of the aliens leaving, going back to the transit. They had blood over their suits, and she could have sworn she could see their faces.

The faces of men who would return friendship with murder.

Even after losing Smith, they still had made it into engineering; they’d still captured people.

They had a dozen people tied to a rope. Most were bloody, she could see the bone sticking out of one of their legs.

She forgot everything Adrian taught her of tactics, everything Roger had taught her about controlling her rage. Kat calmly kicked herself into the corridor. She locked her feet down and started shooting in full view of all the aliens.

They were going to take her people over her dead body.