8 - Maxon

Maxon

Two hours in and it was clear to Maxon that this was a bust. The ruin of the derelict spacecraft was useless. Over the years, looters had had their way and what remained was junk better left where it lay. Components were either fried beyond recognition from the initial crash or oxidized by decades of being exposed to the weather. Scrape off the rust and crud and scoring and there’d be nothing left.

But they were there, and Wheeler refused to leave empty handed. There were parts that could be bastardized into the Supersoul, she reasoned, and scrappers would buy whatever looked even slightly decent. Load it on the ship and get to polishing, she ordered. Maxon acquiesced, but he thought whatever was patched onto the ship wouldn’t be much of an improvement and most of the black markets would laugh themselves silly at the paltry collection of junk they’ve wasted time gussying up.

This was almost as bad as the planet he left. Scuttling around the ruins of somebody else’s war, scratching out a piss-poor living with junk. At least back home he didn’t have to plummet from the sky and get shot at first.

Knock that off, he told himself as he pried open another access panel and poked around inside. There was always the risk of coming up empty. Big risk, big reward was the game. And sometimes the payoff was nil. Like these couplings, he thought. He tossed the panel aside, listening to it clatter as it bounced off walls. His comm buzzed – Wheeler was pissed there was fuck all on the ship, so she was pissed about just about everything, including when he was making noise when there were drones flying around outside – but it was what it was. Frustrating work made for foolish decisions, but as far as Maxon was concerned, the most frustrating decision was the one to come down to this miserable planet. He continued his climb.

By his calculations, Maxon was about three-quarters up of what remained of the ship. He was in the main passage, connecting the pulverized command center deep in the ground with the aft klicks above him. Given that the ship lodged itself at a near-perfect 90-degree angle, Maxon was ascending section by section via the magnetic climbing cable that he affixed to the damaged walls and wrecked traverse pods. His arms were beginning to tire, and he was all too aware that the higher he went, the less value he would find. Like most warships, the officers bunked at the bow and the enlisted were shunted to the ass end of the boat. It wasn’t likely that one of the non-ranking crew had squirreled away any treasure. Since he was starting to see daylight peeking through the jagged spires of the destroyed hull, he’d run out of cabins to search soon.

At least Veciennes had been silent since the salvage team touched down. So far, no signs of local trouble. To go through all this trouble only to face an armed and dangerous mob fueled by religious dogma might convince Maxon to go back home and live out his remaining days planetside. What was the point of being an almost-equal if there was nothing to share?

“Maxon, you find anything that you haven’t been able to drop?” Wheeler asked.

“Sorry for that, Captain, but there’s a whole bunch of nothing here. Everything under the surface was damaged one way. Up here it’s another. Looks like the engines took off most of end when they exploded. It’s a mess, and I’m running out of ship to search. I’ve been checking cabins for personal items but that’s a wash too.”

Wheeler sighed. “Roger that. Ellis found parts of the internal weapons system that may be of use. He’s loading the skiff. Keep checking but be ready to leave in less than 60 minutes.”

“Trouble?” Maxon asked.

“Not yet, but I’m running out of time to feel comfortable about this boondoggle. Any longer and we’d have officially wasted out time.”

“Sorry, Captain. This wasn’t what you wanted.”

“Nobody’s fault, Maxon, but thanks all the same. I think we’ve got enough to break even. Won’t go hungry anytime soon but I’d rather our bellies be a little fuller. Find what you can and get back to the skiff. We’re off this backwater shitheap as fast as we can.” She clicked off.

Maxon climbed another few meters, pausing at an elevator. The door had been blown outward with such force that the entryway curved. It looked like a grotesque mouth, Maxon thought. Based on the schematics Veciennes provided, this was most likely the elevator that led to the hangar and labs. He swung in and shined his light up and down the shaft. It looked clear towards the hangar, but the opposite end was blocked by what was presumably the elevator itself.

There were enough munitions in the hangar at the time of impact to blow a hole in the side of the ship. Worthless to even bother, Maxon decided, unless he wanted to take a good picture of the glass sea. But if access to the lab was blocked, this excursion might not be a total loss. He checked again. That was the elevator, he was sure of it, and it didn’t look like anyone had tried to cut through the base of the car.

Beats climbing, he thought as he slid into the elevator shaft and walked towards the obstruction. He pinged Wheeler: Lab may be intact. Checking it out.

####

The undercarriage of the elevator car was inundated with scratches and gouges. At one point in time, some intrepid scavenger had managed to cut a fist size hole. But whoever had tried to get through either gave up or was caught. Peering through the hole, Maxon decided the former. The force of the impact had crumpled the car. It looked like haphazard stacks of metal in there. Getting through one layer would only result in another.

But this could turn their fortunes around. Imperial medical equipment fetched a high price, almost regardless of quality. Maxon checked the schematic again and confirmed this part of the ship was the least damaged.

He opened a secure comm to the team. “Veciennes, I’m in the elevator shaft leading to the med lab. Can you tell me if there are any openings in the exterior at this location?”

Checking.”

Wheeler asked, “What are you thinking, Maxon?”

“This has been a ghost hunt so far, Captain, but we’ve been stepping on other footprints the whole time. People have tried to get here but the elevator’s blocked up pretty tight. If we had a day, we might be able cut through it. Could blow it open with explosives a lot quicker, but I figured you didn’t want the noise.”

“That’s affirmative. If popping it open with a bang was an option, somebody else would’ve done so already. And there’s too much activity outside already.”

“Maybe something bad in the lab itself we don’t want going up?”

“I’d like to think if that were the case, it would’ve dissipated by now. But if the lab is sealed, I wouldn’t bet on that. What do you have VC?”

“I’m not able to see any immediate access. Based on the drone activity, you wouldn’t have nearly enough time to cut through the hull.”

“Anything in there we don’t want to be breathing?”

“Doubtful. There’s nothing special about this ship. Standard battle cruiser, just another boat in the fleet. Nothing indicates they were fermenting poisons in their spare time.”

“So what do you say, Captain?” Maxon asked. “This could be what sets us right.”

“You don’t have to remind me. Ellis, what’s your take? You come from mining stock. Can you get us past?”

“Begging your pardon, sir, but I’m not comfortable making guesses on something I haven’t seen.”

“Indulge me.”

“This bird was built top shelf. I haven’t seen any cut corners in her design or structure. Elevator was probably reinforced a handful of times, so if it’s as crushed as the kid says, it’d take a good chunk of time to cut through. If we had the big digging tools, it’d be quicker, but we’d have to be on Bellzator for that to happen.”

“VC, we green?”

“For the moment, Captain Wheeler. Nothing and nobody on the radar.”

“And the drones – they running a consistent schedule?”

“Seems to be, yes. There should be another pass in about 30 minutes.”

“Okay. Sit tight, Maxon. Ellis and I are heading your way. Give us 15 to get to you.”

“Is that going to give us enough time to get out?” Maxon asked.

“We’re extending our stay. VC, I don’t care if it’s a stray animal running past, you let us know the minute we’re interrupted. Be prepared for a hasty retreat.”

####

Wheeler let loose one of the curses she picked up from Kongh. “You had to make this difficult,” she said.

“Earning my keep, boss.” Maxon replied. He knew that despite the obstacle, she was pleased. If luck stayed on their side, they’d be leaving much better off than how they arrived.

“Well, Ellis? Now you’re up close and personal. What do you think?”

Ellis, peering through the hole and poking around with a screwdriver, grunted in response. “This is flattened.” He knocked the undercarriage and listened. “Minimum air in there. They might as well have built a series of triple reinforced walls and welded them all shut on both sides.”

“How long to cut through?”

“Not on our timetable,” Ellis replied.

“So we blow a hole in it,” the captain responded.

“That we can do.” Ellis knocked on the undercarriage again and listened. “Thinking we drill another hole past this one and see if we have some space for a charge. If not, we keep drilling holes until we do. Best case we blow it out from the inside. That’ll give us room to pry through. Worst case we’re dropping the charge on the other side. Hope it won’t come to that. We’re awful close to the lab.”

“Then let’s hope for the best case. Let’s start cutting.”

####

The insurance trade with Statner worked in their favor – Ellis had a knack for cutting. He made shorter work than either Wheeler or Maxon would have. And yet it still took a painful amount of time. He was also right about the sorry state of the elevator car. It seemed like every hole led to another layer.

With Ellis insistent on earning his keep, Wheeler and Maxon were relegated to standing over him, on alert for any sign of company, watching the minutes tick past. They had been on the ship at least an hour longer than anticipated.

“You wretched whoreson,” Ellis muttered, peeling back another layer of metal and tossing it behind him. It was, by Maxon’s count, the fifth. He had busied himself imagining the various ways a standard rectangle could collapse in on itself, how many layers of obstruction it could create. More than five, easily.

“We closer to getting through or to wasting my time?” Wheeler asked. Whatever good cheer she had was gone. The longer they spent in the shaft, the more claustrophobic it became.

Ellis stretched his back. “We may have something. Looks like there’s enough of a gap to slip a charger in there. Might have to hammer it down a touch, which should dull the noise as well as do more damage. Whichever of you has the lighter touch can be my guest. I’m stepping back. Grace has never been in my skillset.” He held out his hands as if he were apologizing for their bulk.

“I’ll do it,” Maxon volunteered. “Just one charge?”

Ellis thought. “Two would definitely do it, but given the space we’re in we’d be making more of a noise than I’m guessing the captain would like. You get that charge deep enough, we should be able to pop a hole large enough to crawl through. Reach in through and you’ll find the gap. It’s to the left of the top.”

Maxon knelt and felt his way around. Ellis had a longer reach but Maxon was still able to find the spot. He grabbed an explosive from his pack and eased it into the space, getting it about halfway through before hitting resistance.

“It’s tight,” Maxon told the captain and Ellis. “I’ll give it a couple of knocks but I don’t want to force it too much.” The explosives were old and secondhand, possibly homemade. There was no guarantee they had the basic shielding of their more legitimate counterparts.

“Neither do I,” Wheeler responded, handing Maxon a hammer. “Treat it like you would your favorite grandparent.”

“Pretty sure I never bopped my Nona on the head, but I’ll do my best,” Maxon responded with a curt laugh. He was nervous, and that made him glib.

It was impossible to wield the hammer with his dominant hand, so he awkwardly twisted himself around and tapped the explosive. It shuffled a bit but was no deeper than before. Maxon shined his flashlight and peered into the hole. There was a visible scuff mark on the exposed side of the disc.

He reached in again and tried twisting the explosive. It rotated marginally, enough to move the damaged side out of range. He gave another couple taps, this time with more force. Reviewing his work, the explosive was lodged deeper, noticeably so, and boasted of a solid dent.

Maxon extracted himself from the work area. “It’s not all the way in, but the only way it’s going deeper is if I set it off. I’d rather not blow myself up, Captain.”

“It will have to do.” She pinged Veciennes. “We’re getting ready to detonate. Still clear out there?”

“Still clear. You’ve got at least 10 minutes before the next drone patrol.”

“Copy that. We’ll risk it and detonate now.” To Maxon and Ellis, she said, “Find safe cover. We’re making a hole.”