7 - Drazen (draft)

Drazen

The Valiant, or what had become of her, groaned. To Drazen, it sounded almost human, like dying cries. The thought pained him. He knew the ship better than he did anything else.

He knew that removing the majority of the shielding left it vulnerable to the Morass’ temperamental energy surges and gravitational pulls.

He knew that stripping the interior down to its skeleton left it even more defenseless.

He knew that jettisoning the engine core into the Morass was necessary. If it ignited, a ship that size would not only take out the Reach and the hidden armada but also might trigger the collapse of the nebulae. In a thousand millennia, they could name the protostar after his hubris.

He knew that it was like removing the ship’s heart.

And he knew it was an act of savagery, of desperation. There was no mercy in his decision. In a sense, it was worse than when he abandoned his family for this crusade. With his wife and child, he excised himself. Here he had to take stock of his decision.

What was removed from the Valiant had been used to stabilize the last few troublesome sections of the Reach. There were still issues – if he considered his command ship as her, the Reach had most decidedly become an it, and it had no qualms about protesting its existence. But it had come to learn its place.

And they were close.

But not close enough.

####

To journey to the near-center of the Morass, The Valiant had to run parallel to the Reach, so dangerously close that the crew opted to disabled the proximity sensors rather than hear their constant blaring. And The Valiant’s wake, even at the slowest speed, was strong enough to twist the Reach and cause more structural damage. A group of technicians were plugging holes in the third station. The number of honored crew from there was high enough to have them bolted around the mangled section like garland.

Drazen had fired all but three of his remaining probes deep into the Morass. Based on the returned numbers, the Valiant would land equidistant from the tip of the Reach and the hidden armada. Close enough to complete the handshake but not close enough to get on board the nearest ship.

“Check the handshake,” Drazen ordered. He was standing in the bridge, dressed in an exosuit. Despite not being grafted directly on the Reach, the Valiant was still generating enough power to disrupt the fragile balance. The last to go offline, even after environment, was the main display. Drazen had insisted they do whatever they could to keep it running. It offered visual confirmation of their prize – the Dzengharian armada. It was glorious.

“It’s holding,” Ensign Nelson confirmed. She was the only other person on the bridge. They had managed with thirty volunteers, including Drazen at the helm. To command a ship of the Valiant’s size with such a stripped-down crew should be eulogized. “Not very strong but we’re connected.”

“Can we maintain it?”

“If we can keep within acceptable power levels, I believe so.” She checked the console. “I’m seeing issues in Sector 7G of the Reach, sir. There’s a radiation spike.”

Drazen pinged the head engineer. “Sector 7G. Can we bypass it?”

“Looking into it, sir. We could conceivably shut down the Reach. Rebuild the connectors around 7G.” He paused.

“But?”

The engineer cleared his throat. “There’s a high probability that re-engaging the Reach would result in a massive power surge. Big enough to cause catastrophic damage. There’s no telling what would remain.”

“Understood. What can we do to manage the radiation spikes?”

“Honestly, sir, not much. If you want my honest opinion, we should get what we can and get the hell out of here. The Reach is a technological marvel, but we’ve been playing against the odds for too long. It’s not going to last much longer.”

“Define ‘much longer.’”

“Five days?”

Five days. Drazen looked at the blackened display. They were so close. He turned back to Nelson. “How close are we with bringing the armada online?”

She paused. “Not very. Their mainframes are still online, which is great, but so far we’ve only been able to ping them. They know we’re here and we know they’re there. But we’re so deep into the Morass that it’s impossible to remote into the ships.”

“Impossible.” He found himself unable to pose it as a question. It came out as a threat.

“Very unlikely,” Nelson countered nervously.

“The whole point of the Reach was to provide a link to the Armada so we can pull it out. Are you telling me we cannot do this? That a year’s worth of work was for nothing?”

The engineer said, “Sir, if we were at least a klick closer, I’d feel more confident. And even so, the Reach was theoretical. There was never any guarantee that this would-“

“If we got someone on board, would that help?”

The engineer paused. “Conceivably if we could get on board the closest ship, we could extend the handshake to that ship. But it’s not as simple as finding the on switch. These ships have been sealed tight for over-”

“I am fully aware of the complexities of battle cruisers. I just need to know if it’s doable.”

“We lack the ships.”

“We’ll use the shuttles.” There were two on board. Enough to transfer the crew to one of the capital ships.

“This far into the Morass, they wouldn’t make it. Not in their current condition. They lack the velocity.”

“Would they get close enough?”

The engineer paused again. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re suggesting. I’m not sure I want to know.”

To Ensign Nelson, Drazen asked, “What’s the closest ship in the armada?”

“Checking, sir. It’s a dreadnaught.”

“Pull all available schematics.”

“On it, sir.”

Drazen said the lead engineer, “If we can get a crew onboard, we can get the dreadnaught online. From there it’s a matter of spreading personnel to the other available ships and extending the handshake. But if we can only get close enough to the dreadnaught, will we be close enough to trigger its systems?”

“Conceivably, yes. It would depend on if we can bring the systems online from the shuttle. That’s still unknown. And how would we get the crew onboard?”

Drazen shrugged. “We will find a way.”

Nelson said, “Sir, schematics just sent.”

Drazen quickly reviewed them. The dreadnaught was a massive warship, build to be as effective in space combat as planetary bombardments. It boasted of six hangars, divided equally amongst the port and starboard. Based on probe data, the dreadnaught lay parallel to The Valiant.

“Ensign, how are your targeting skills?”

“What do you need, Admiral?”

“The starboard hangars. Given what we know of the ship’s position, can you hit one of them? Without taking the ship out? We need to open a hangar, not cleave it half.”

“Without proper visuals? Risky but doable. I’ll do my best, sir.”

“Do better than that, please.” Back to the engineer. “How can we increase velocity of the shuttle?”

“We can’t. They’re used up already. They can barely traverse the Reach.”

“If we cannot use the shuttles, I am ready to strap soldiers – engineers, even – to torpedoes and shoot them directly into the dreadnaught. Find me a solution.”

“I will try.”

“That’s a start. You have an hour.” Drazen shut off the comm and turned again to Ensign Nelson. “You’ve heard it all. What are your thoughts?”

“Begging your pardon, Admiral, but I don’t think I’m qualified to offer anything.”

 “We are in uncharted waters. The goal is for the good of Bellzator. Our part in this story can end at any time. What’s important is that we’ve mattered. Have we earned our place? We’ve done much, but I do not think we’re finished. So what are your thoughts?”

“We volunteered for this mission because we believe in the cause. We believe in you. But the engineer is right. The shuttles are trash. They were trash before the Reach and they’re still trash. You put a crew in one and hurtle it deeper into the Morass, they won’t reach the armada. You’ve just used up good people.”

“I appreciate your candor. Get me the number of torpedoes and exosuits. And a list of volunteers.”