Episode 9 – Mayday, part 24

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!


Lily saw a bright flash outside her tiny window.

The stars had largely faded, but she still looked out.  The view was comfortable and she was happy to think she was facing them.

They still had so much to tell her, she thought.  It brought her peace.

The flash . . . had it been one of them?

She didn’t know, but she liked to think so.  Soon she’d be another star among them.  That had been a story she’d heard once.

Or maybe she’d imagined it . . .

Memories, dreams, fantasies, all of them seemed equally real and plausible to her.  Thoughts from childhood were coming back to her, sparks of a pure joy that almost brought tears of happiness to her eyes.

How had she ever forgotten these things?  They were the parts that made life so beautiful.  Almost as beautiful as those stars out there, glowing for ages upon ages, longer than humanity had existed or likely would ever exist.

At this moment, she felt like she was one with them.

One of those lights might be the Craton, she thought.  She felt a pang of sadness, thinking of how hard they were all working to save her.

She could imagine the distance, for the first time she felt she truly could feel just how vast they were in space.  She could feel that distance.  It took light seconds to cross the gap.  She was an insignificant nothing in this endlessness.

But it would end when she was dead.  She knew she was dying, that the gas was leaking in here and killing her.  That she would not be rescued.  She’d accepted that.

It did not upset her.  She just hoped they wouldn’t take it too hard.

Maybe it was the gas itself that was making her so accepting of her fate.  Probably.

But that didn’t make her acceptance any less real.  It didn’t make her memories or fantasies or dreams any less real to her.

It was funny.  She’d been afraid of death.

But it was everything leading up to it that was hard.

Dying was easy.


Captain’s Log:

Escape Pod 57 was recovered six hours after initial launch from the Maria’s Cog.

The second drone was successful in attaching to the pod and penetrating the hull to begin scrubbing the air of toxic gases.  Concentrations, however, were by that time above lethal limits.  Medical drones deployed within the pod found that both Lily Brogan and Davyyd Pedraza were dead.

Their bodies have been recovered, and will be returned to their families.

All other personnel from the Maria’s Cog that have been recovered are in stable condition.  We are en route to Medical Base 17 for their further treatment.

Further investigations have confirmed our earlier theory that the Cog had been hit by a piece of space debris moving at an unusually high velocity.  Notations of this particular danger in this region have been sent out to all Union vessels and independent ships.

The known flaw in the escape pods that allowed the release of engine coolant gas under certain circumstances has been elevated in importance; all current models of that pod in service will undergo revision to help prevent such future incidents.

Finally, Commander Kai Yong Fan has requested a leave of absence of three days.  I have granted her request.


FINIS


< Ep 9 Part 23 | Ep 10 Part 1 >

Episode 9 – Mayday, part 23

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!


“Braking maneuver complete,” Rachel Zhu called.

“The drone has successfully matched the pod’s speed,” Cenz said.

“Preparing to deploy docking clamps,” Sulp said.  “Cutter, you ready on your end?”

“Prepared,” the Bicet said shortly, all of its focus on the task at hand.  He was wearing an entire headset that gave his spectacularly complex and precise eyes a fully-realized view from the drone’s cameras.

The lightlag did not help, but he was only supervising the drone’s own computer as it carried out the complex maneuver.

“Have not yet matched pod’s rotation,” Cutter said.  “Require more rotational thrust.”

“Synching drone to pod now,” Ji-min Bin answered.

It had been hard to be sure they had the right data for the pod’s rotation, the interference from debris had made the measurement difficult at the distances involved.

The pod was visibly spinning, the view of it now on the main screen.  Slowly the drone was matching the spin, but they were still getting a full view of the side of the craft as it turned.

“Look at that whole side,” Sulp said, in horrified awe.

One full third of the side of the pod was warped, the heat having melted the plates.  They’d re-set in space, but were heavily warped.

“Incredible that the pod did not break apart,” Cenz said.

“They were built to survive,” Brooks replied softly.

“Rotation matched,” Zhu announced.  The view of the pod had stabilized over one of its intact faces.  They could not risk cutting into the melted plates; the warping might have rendered them brittle and they’d end up venting the whole craft to space.

“Preparing to connect,” Cutter said tensely.

They held their collective breaths as the pod grew in the view.  Out there, where it was, was three seconds ahead of them, the entire endeavor already either succeeded or failed, but they could not even know.

The view shuddered.

“We have contact!” Cutter said.  “All arms secured.”

Brooks found himself breathing again.  He said nothing, just watching.  His officers were the experts here, and he could only let them work.

“Deploy drill head and connector sleeve unit,” Sulp said.

There was a long pause.  The view from the drone shuddered once, then after a few moments shuddered again.

A red light began to flash on an instrument panel.

“What’s happening?” Kai asked sharply.

“We are having difficulty deploying drill head and connector sleeve unit,” Cutter said.  “It is registering mechanical error.”

Sulp let out a string of curses.  “They were housed near where that bloody debris hit.”

“Restarting system,” Cutter said.  “Remote connection re-established.  Attempting to deploy again.”

There was no shudder of the camera this time, and Brooks looked from Cutter to Sulp, hoping this meant something positive.

Sulp’s head tilted down and he sighed.

“Attempting again,” Cutter said.

The feed flickered.

“We have Main Bus B failure,” Cutter hissed.  “Battery problems registering.  Internal heat rising.”

“We have counter-measures to fire!” Sulp said.  “Deploying!”

“No effect!” Cutter said.  “No effect.  Internal heat rising to dangerous levels.  Damage to drone too severe.”

“Detach, detach!” Sulp said quickly.  “Before she takes the pod out with her!”

The view feed suddenly cut, replaced with a simple telemetry that showed the drone moving away from the pod.

It winked out.

“Fire spread.  Ruptured internal oxygen storage tanks.”

“Is there damage to the pod?” Brooks demanded.

“Unknown,” Cutter replied.  “Unlikely.”

“Long-range scans show no change in pod’s velocity,” Cenz said.  “No unexpected change in its albedo.  It appears that it is still intact.”

Brooks breathed a sigh of relief, but it was brief.  He looked to Ji-min Bin.  “What is our ETA on the second drone?”

They had launched it some time ago, and Bin put it up on the screen.

It had barely gone a third of the way to the pod.

Kai had her headset on.

“Lily, this is Kai.  Are you there?” she called out into the dark.


< Ep 9 Part 21 | Ep 9 Part 24 >

Episode 9 – Mayday, part 22

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!


“Lily?  Lily, are you there?”

Kai sent the message again, hoping that this time the woman would respond.

Her eyes went to the chart up on the main monitor showing the progress of the rescue drone.  It had cleared the debris field some time ago and now was just over three quarters of the way to Lily’s pod.

“Lily, if you can hear me, please respond.”

She waited again in vain.

Footsteps came up softly behind her, and Brooks knelt down next to her console.

“Anything?” he asked quietly.

“No,” she answered.  “There’s been no activity at all.”

Brooks nodded, his eyes closing a moment.

He did not have to tell her to keep trying; he knew she would.

“You’re doing everything you can,” he told her.

“I know,” she replied.

Brooks looked as if he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t.  He stood, putting a hand on her shoulder comfortingly, then moved over to speak to Cutter and Cenz, who were still working on the problem from their end.

“Lily-” she began.

A voice crackled in.

“It’s cold out here,” Lily said.  Her voice was soft and weak, almost lost to the static.

“Lily, I’m glad to hear you!” Kai said, relief flooding through her.  “Listen, we have a drone approaching your pod.  It will arrive soon and can start purifying the air in there, okay?”

There was a long pause again.  Kai was about to speak when Lily’s next message came through.

“Don’t have it block the viewport under the access panel,” Lily said.  “I want to keep seeing the stars.”

Kai’s heart pounded harder in her chest.

“Lily, are you feeling okay?”

“No,” Lily replied.  “I don’t feel anything.  Not okay.  Not bad.  But I can still see the stars.  I don’t want to lose that.”

“Lily, the gas leak is affecting your thinking.  I need you to not do anything rash, okay?  Just rest and soon the air will feel clearer.  Dr. Y will be able to-“

“They’re twinkling like they do on Earth,” Lily said.  “Isn’t that weird?  There’s no atmosphere out there, but . . . maybe there is, you know?  Maybe space does have air and we just never knew it.”

“Lily,” Kai said, her voice going firm.  “Do not try to open the pod.”

“I’m not that far gone,” Lily replied.  “I just wonder.  Because they’re twinkling, and I know it sounds really crazy but I think they’re sending me a message.  They’re calling me home.”

Kai fought down panic.  “Lily, promise me you won’t do anything.  Just sit tight and wait.”

“You can let me go,” Lily told her.  “I know you care, you really do.  But it’s okay, Kai.  You don’t need to worry about me anymore.”

The call clicked off again.

“Lily?  Lily!”

Kai was yelling now, the others on the bridge looking to her, but she didn’t care.


< Ep 9 Part 21 | Ep 9 Part 23 >

Episode 9 – Mayday, part 21

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!


“The last pod has been collected,” the call came through the speakers.

Cheers came from the halls, but Ham Sulp was not among them, puffing as he ran.

The last pod his ass.  It was the last pod in their area, but there was still one more they needed to recover, one more soul still out there.

He’d grown up on a fleet of vagabond ships.  They lived their whole lives, generation after generation, in the deep void, only occasionally even piercing the heliopause of a star system.

To leave someone stranded out there to die was the worst thing in his view.

The doors to the launch room opened before him, and he heard the voices call out something else;

“Lift!”

The mechanical arm hefted the modified drone like it weighed as much as a feather instead of 800 kilograms.

Sulp had run down here as fast as he could, sweat pouring off his brow.  For the last sixteen minutes he and his team had been working; even before he’d gotten into the room, his boys and girls had started pulling apart one of the long-range Response drones, the plans for what was unimportant and what was vital laid out in their HUDs.

The longest wait had been for their high-speed fabricators to finish producing the modified parts they’d need.

A drill to penetrate the pod’s hull.  A vacuum-rated sealing coupling.  The special air scrubbers that would remove the deadly engine coolant.

Last minute Y sent up modified plans that required only a little creative rearranging to fit in six more of their best medical drones, that he had modified personally to be able to treat the chemical poisoning and burns that Lily Brogan and Davyyd Pedraza had already suffered.

Then they’d packaged it all up, and moved it into the internal transport system.

Entirely unmanned, lacking gravity for easy movement, the tunnels and drones within the system brought their modified drone as fast as possible to the launch bays near the heart of the Craton, not far from the bridge.

He’d managed to make it in time to see the drone lifted, then placed in the launch cradle.

As the aperture slid shut – itself a solid block of the strongest alloys known to the Union, he looked to the launch screen.

“Power building – five seconds until launch!”

“Dark and stars, let it fly true,” Sulp muttered, bunching his fist over his chest.

“Rotating ship,” Jaya said.  “Preparing to launch.”

“Charge complete!” the call came.

“Seven seconds until rotation complete.”

“Three seconds until rotation complete.”

“Rotation complete – all hands, brace for firing.”

Sulp gripped a rail, then felt the shudder that went through the decking, the very air, as Isaac Newton’s famous opposite reaction of recoil was released.

His eyes were still following the screen, watching their missile travel.

It was moving at a good rate, but not as fast as it could be moving – barely 0.01% of lightspeed.

With all they’d had to modify, the probe could not handle anything near what a military shell could.  They could make things to last much harder blasts, but they hadn’t the time to produce all that.

Still – it would take only an hour to reach Escape Pod #57.

If it could make it through the debris field.

It was another reason for the slower launch; with the drone’s armor, at this speed an impact might do some damage, but it shouldn’t annihilate it.  A far higher speed would mean that hitting even the tiniest piece would be like exploding a bomb on its surface.

It was all consolation, he knew.  The drone would not take any impacts well, but they’d done their best to chart a course that gave it a chance.

Still struggling for breath, noting to himself how he was not a sprinter and should not even try sprinting like that again, he got on a lift to the bridge.

“How’s it going?” he asked as soon as he appeared onto the command deck.

“It’s 22% through the debris field,” Brooks informed him.  “So far, so good.”

Not even a quarter.  If it had taken the hit in the first minute or two then they might have had time to fabricate another attempt.

Already his team was working on another drone, this one to take a longer route around the debris.  It would have to carry its own fuel and not just cruise on the coilgun’s boost, which meant less payload, but they’d accounted for that with a larger drone.

That would take another twenty minutes, though.  And then take over two hours to get there.

The next several minutes passed.  Sulp watched with trepidation as the drone ate up the distance, breathing a heavy sigh as it passed the halfway mark of the dangerous part of its voyage.  Once it got through the debris, it was home free . . .

“We have an impact!” Rachel Zhu called.  “Nose cone panel 17, small particle, low albedo!  Skewing off course . . .”

“Can we re-orient?” Brooks demanded.

“Yes, guidance says so.  Damage is unknown, but seems minor.  Settling back into course . . .”

“We must know the extent of the damage,” Cenz spoke.  “Share all internal sensor data.”

“We don’t have any,” Sulp said.  “We had to take those sensors out to fit in the framework for the new equipment.”

Cenz was silent a moment.  “I understand,” he finally said.

“Drone is back on course,” Zhu said.  “This will not affect arrival time by more than a few seconds.”

Brooks looked to him.  “How soon until we can launch the second probe?  Do you think we should do a straight launch for it as well?”

“Twenty minutes, my team tells me.  The initial work I put in before we finalized the plan all went into this one, so we need more time to get the second one running.  I’ve got all the people I have on it and every fabricator.  We can’t squeeze it out any faster.”

“As for course change,” Cenz added.  “If I might jump in – I recommend against a second launch through.  The high-speed particles from this one’s passing will likely stir up more micro-debris.  While it may clear the path in some ways, it may also easily cause more to end up in the course.  It is simply too chaotic to be certain, but I calculate the odds are likely to be worse for a second drone.”

Brooks nodded.  “Very well.  Let’s go ahead and reorient the ship for the second firing, and hope to hell that first drone makes it through.”

Sulp looked back up to the screen.  It was 74% of the way through the debris.

Just a little further, then the rest of it voyage would be a clean cruise.


< Ep 9 Part 20 | Ep 9 Part 22 >

Episode 9 – Mayday, part 20

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!


“Commander, we’ve got less than one minute to cut-off time!”

Pirra heard the words and weighed them.

“Are all other shuttles heading back?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Finish the connection,” she ordered.  “We’re moving fast.”

“Aye!”

During Team Four’s connection to their first pod, a water line on the outside of the pod had burst.  The water inside had become flying knives that had damaged her connection tube.  They had a spare, but it would take too long to deploy it.

Team One would pick up the last pod.

There was just one person aboard this pod, she knew.

Watching the timer click down, she saw her team set a new record for sealing and getting down to the bottom.

It filled her with pride, even if she could not take the time to verbalize it now.

“Opening!” Kiseleva called.  The pod’s hatch opened easily, but black smoke poured out, and she heard coughing from within.

“We’re at cutoff,” she heard in her ear.

“Everyone else back aboard the ship,” she ordered, swinging herself down into the pod.  “If I’m not back aboard in 30, cut loose.  That’s an order.”

She knew that her team would have moved heaven and earth to save her, but they had too many others aboard that they had to get out.

They would obey.

Going down into smoke, she cycled through optical views until she could see the person inside.

Infrared could barely make them out; the pod interior was hot, and she cursed that they hadn’t gotten this information before.

“Come on!” she said, grabbing the person.

They coughed, fighting her briefly before curling up slightly and letting her take them.

Using her thrusters she moved them towards the hatch, she looked up to gauge a push-off.  The smoke made it hard to see exactly, even with sensors, but she took her best guess and pushed off the floor hard.

Wrapping her arms around the person’s head and body to shield them, she smashed her shoulder into the hatch rim, but caught with her leg to keep them from tumbling awkwardly in the tunnel.

Burning her thrusters again, she went up into the Response Shuttle, arms grabbing her and pulling her in.

Her chrono read that she’d been thirty-six seconds.

“Pull away, cut the tunnel!” she called.

“Brace!” she heard the call come.

The arms still held her, and she still held the man, as they began a hard burn.

“Debris field?” she called out.  It was hard to get words out under the g-forces, but she forced them through.

“We are ahead of it,” she heard Y’s voice in her ear.  “Though you have cut it far closer than I thought you might.  We can visibly see debris approaching – though we are thankfully outpacing it.”

The burn began to slacken, the man in her arms coughing violently.  It hadn’t been easy for him, but it had been vital.

Y and Mwanajuma moved to help him into a medical cradle, and Kiseleva helped Pirra move into a sitting position.

She felt exhausted, drained.

But she connected to the Craton.

“This is Commander Pirra.  All pods evacuated.  We are on our way back.”


< Ep 9 Part 19 | Ep 9 Part 21 >

Episode 9 – Mayday, part 18

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!


“Lily?” Kai called out.

The light lag had increased by only a fraction of a second since their first message, but the reply was much longer than six seconds in coming.

“I’m here,” Lily said.

Her voice was quieter than before, the sensors told Kai.  Even accounting for the damage to the radio.

“How are you feeling?” Kai asked.

“I’m feeling tired.  Kind of numb, I guess.”

“Physically or mentally?” Kai asked her carefully.

“Both,” Lily said.  “It’s starting to smell bad in here, too.  Like burning plastic or something.”

Kai knew that was consistent with the toxin in the air – it actually had no odor, but the damage to nerves could trigger scents such as that.

The curve chart suggested they had less than the maximum of four hours they had hoped for.  It was all going to be tight.

Lily spoke again; “I think Davyyd’s going to die.”

“I’m sorry,” Kai said.  “We’re doing everything we can to get help to you.”

“That’s what you said earlier,” Lily replied.  She did not even sound angry.  Just resigned.  “But we’re still here.”

“We will have help directly en route soon,” Kai replied.  “And I’m here.  We can still talk.”

“Okay,” Lily replied.

“You’ve done good work, Lily.  Without the information you’ve gathered we couldn’t be getting help to you.  You just need to hold on now.”

There was a long pause.

“Lily, are you there?” Kai asked.  “I need you to keep talking to me if you can.”

“Okay,” Lily replied again.  “I’m just tired.”

“I know,” Kai replied.  “Just hold on.”

“. . . what made you join Response?” Lily asked.

The question came out of left field, but Kai had fielded stranger questions in her time.  She went with it.

“My family wanted me to do it,” Kai told her.  “I was not actually interested in it, originally.”

“Really?” Lily asked, her voice perking up a little.  “But now you’re a commander, right?”

“Yes.  I was a dispatcher first, in Communications, then I joined Response as a field officer.”

“How long were you a field officer?”

“Almost twenty years,” Kai admitted.  “I loved it.  But eventually I accepted a promotion and became a desk jockey.”

“Do you miss it?” Lily asked.

“Yes and no.  I miss helping people directly.  But I keep my skills up just for times like this, when we need everyone.”

“Why did you join if you weren’t interested?”

“Because after I got an idea of what it was like through the dispatching, I thought ‘I could do that!’  I was young then.  I knew I could do it, and so I applied myself.”

Kai hesitated.  “Are you thinking about signing up, Lily?  It’s very hard to get in, but I bet you could do it.”

“No . . .” Lily admitted.  “But I keep thinking of Davyyd.  He could have just run to an escape pod when things first went bad, and he’d be fine now.  But he stopped and saved me.  When we got to the pods, he wanted to go back.  If he hadn’t waited, maybe . . .”

“Lily, if you’re feeling guilty, you don’t need to.  Officer Pedraza is a very brave man, and he was doing his duty.  It’s what he wanted to do – you have nothing to feel bad for.”

“I don’t feel bad,” Lily admitted.  “I just feel kind of numb.  But I just didn’t understand, you know?”

“Different people have different mindsets.  Not everyone wants to be in Response, and that’s okay.  We all are part of society in different ways.”

“I never really planned to become a drone repair tech,” Lily admitted.  “I mean, I guess I like it.  I like fixing things.  I couldn’t be a doctor, though, I’m not comfortable with blood . . .  Heh, and now I’m covered in it.”

“Are you bleeding, Lily?”

“Some of it was mine, but I’m not bleeding now.  But Davyyd . . .  He was bleeding a lot.  The drone put a spray on him to stop it for now, but . . .”

Kai knew it was no good going down that route; even if a trained doctor had been aboard, without equipment the drone was the best thing to let tend to the officer.  Even if all it could do was help him die in peace.

“What did you want to be, Lily?” Kai asked.

“I never really knew.  I liked a lot of things, but none of them were things I wanted to do for a living.”

“What did you like?”

“Oh, you know . . . animals.  I wanted to have a ranch with horses, but that’s not exactly a career without a lot more effort than I wanted to put in.  It’s not just about riding them, after all.”  She chuckled.

“I was actually the same way,” Kai told her.  “I just didn’t know what I wanted to do.  It was only after I found my way into Response that I felt like I found my calling.”

“I’m not that brave,” Lily said.

“Well, not all fields in Response involved personal danger,” Kai told her.  “There’s support roles that still let you help people indirectly.  We could talk more about that later, if you think you’d like to help others.”

There was silence again.  Past ten seconds, then sixteen.

“Lily, are you there?”

Lily spoke suddenly, her voice sharp.

“Something’s wrong with Davyyd,” she said.  “He’s choking!”


< Ep 9 Part 17 | Ep 9 Part 19 >

Episode 9 – Mayday, part 17

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!


“Time is short,” Brooks said quickly.  “We’ve got two hours to get help to Lily Brogan and Davyyd Pedraza.  Perhaps they have longer, but we can’t plan on that without knowing.  Give me options.”

Cutter and was present in person, while Ham Sulp, Cenz, Dr. Y, Lt. Commander Pirra, and Rachel Zhu of drone control were all viewing remotely.  Kai was still monitoring the channel of the pod, though also listening in.

“Response Team One is prepared to do a high-G launch to reach the pod, Captain, if you order it” Pirra said.  She sounded breathy, her voice altered by the spacesuit she was already wearing.

“Not enough time,” Cutter said quickly.  “Even if launched now, not enough time to reach target.”

“We can do some pretty hard launches,” Pirra noted quickly.

“G-forces extreme,” Cutter replied.  “But possible.  Other problems remain – such as fact that pod is on opposite side of debris field.”

“Shit,” Sulp muttered.  “That cloud is going to be a bitch to get anything through.”

Brooks knew that they were already in a hard burn going between some of the difficult pods nearby – and that she was already cutting it close.

“I’m nixing that, but thank you Commander,” he said to Pirra.  “You have your own job to do.”

“Aye, sir,” Pirra replied.

“I need other options,” Brooks continued.  “What have we got?”

Rachel Zhu spoke up.  “We have rescue drones that can get there in time, if we launch them through.  They’re small and fast – they have a chance.”

“I know the models you speak of.  We’re going to need to modify them,” Cenz said.  “Normal rescue drones can interface with a pod, but this pod cannot interface externally – the drone will need the ability to secure the pod and extract the people inside safely.  Or the ability to cleanse the air within.”

“That’s not standard kit on them, no.  We can get it out there and it could start slowing down the pod, at least,” Zhu said.

“I feel this is unwise,” Cenz replied.  “The pod already had heat damage to its outer hull and the uneven force of attaching to a single spot to slow it might very well crack the hull open.”

“We must modify pod to enhance capabilities,” Cutter clicked out.

“I concur,” Cenz said.  “We can take a rescue drone and modify the payload.  Do you believe it is possible, Zhu?”

“We’d need to fabricate some custom parts,” she said.  “But we can do it.  The question is making them in time.”

“I’ve already started looking into it,” Sulp said matter-of-factly.  “Started a little bit ago.  It’s only groundwork, some generic parts, but I think we can have this baby ready for launch in twenty minutes.”

“If everyone is in agreement,” Brooks said.  “Then start immediately.  Next we just have to figure out how we’re launching it; around the debris or through.  Obviously the latter will be safest.  But do we have time?”

“To be frank – I do not think so,” Cenz said.  “Running the preliminary calculations, we will simply waste too much delta-v moving around the cloud to make our window.”

“I concur,” Y said.  “That will take too long to make our short-term window.”

“Recommend we attempt both,” Cutter said.  “Modify two drones.  If one going around may not make it in time, send first through in hopes that it makes it.  Send second around to guarantee arrival.  If first does not survive – still chance second could save crew members if gas leak estimates were too high.”

“Do it,” Brooks said.  “I want both drones launched as soon as possible.  Use any resources you have to.”


< Ep 9 Part 16 | Ep 9 Part 18 >

Episode 9 – Mayday, part 16

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!


“Recovery of pods is 27% complete,” Cenz reported.

“Fast enough,” Brooks replied.  “But I will only breathe easy once we’ve got them all.”

He brought up a map showing all the remaining pods and their statuses.  Detailed information on the pods’s health as well as that of the people in them came alongside it.  When there was no or minimal damage, they were capable of telling nearly everything important about themselves and their occupants, and nearly all of them in this area were undamaged.

They’d already recovered the handful that had been unable to communicate, save the empty one.  Later they would recover it as well, in case it contained any bodies.

They had also focused on those containing the seriously injured.  It was mostly radiation injuries, some of which were severe.  A few hours or days, and most of those people would be dead, and he thanked the scientific minds of the centuries that had developed treatments for even the most acute of radiation poisoning.

The prognosis for most people, if still alive when brought in, was almost always positive.  Their ability to prevent death was at heroic levels . . .

But it still depended on the person being alive when they came in.  All too quickly parts of the body could suffer extreme damage, too much even for their ability to heal.

Looking at pod 49, he saw that it was slated for later recovery.  Its occupants were no longer conscious, and two of the six were already dead.

The entire crew had received over 50 grays of radiation – far higher than was lethal.

The medical drone aboard had dosed them with sedatives and medications that gave them some comfort, but even if they were aboard the Craton there was little more that could be done to help them.

Had they tried, then in that time, others who could be saved would have to be sacrificed.

It was not something he liked, to pick and choose who would live and who would die.

But it was part of his duty, and so he did it.

“Another pod recovered,” Kai said.  “Occupants are alive and conscious.  Minor injuries, mostly contusions.”

“Get them treated and comfortable, and find out anything they know about the event that destroyed the Maria’s Cog.”

“Aye, Captain.”

He looked again at the vessel, which had drifted further apart since they had arrived.  As soon as their zerodrive was charged enough they’d send a message off to command with their findings.  The original distress call would get back to them soon, and they would send out cleaner vessels to capture all of the pieces they could, destroy what they could not.  Even far from an inhabited system, one did not want to leave errant debris.

The thought of the hyper-velocity object that had caused this came to his mind and he frowned.  For all they knew, another such object was coming at them now, launched thousands or even millions of years ago, that could kill them all.

He’d deployed their defensive drones to watch for such things, but if they saw one there was very little defense.  Their lasers might be able to burn some of it away, but that was it.

“Captain,” Cutter said, approaching.  “A word.”

“Go ahead,” he said, closing out the image of the Maria’s Cog.

“Damage to errant pod is confirmed to include leak of engine coolant,” Cutter said.  “Air check system not configured to detect – but indirect evidence undeniable.  Gas is heavier than oxygen, but system will interpret as oxygen due to lack of data.”

He showed the data to Brooks;

“Fisc,” he muttered.

“Leak is microscopic in nature, across interior surface of pipe walls.  Difficult to fix – without proper tools impossible.”

“Ms. Brogan and Officer Pedraza will have to wear some of the emergency air masks until we can recover them,” he said.  “Has it been ordered?”

“It was ordered immediately,” Cutter said.  “Lily Brogan has not yet answered.  We await positive reply.”

Commander Eboh turned.  “Captain, we are receiving a new message from Lily Brogan.”

“Channel to Cutter and myself,” Brooks ordered.

The message came through, breaking up and full of static.

Craton, this is Lily Brogan . . .  I’ve gotten out the air masks, but uh . . . we don’t have any air cans.  I don’t know why, maybe they needed refilling or something but . . .”

Her breathing was heavy.  “We don’t have anything.  They have filters, so I have mine on and I put one on Davyyd . . .  But I think it’s making it harder for him to breathe.  Please advise; are the mask filters going to help?”

The message ended, and Brooks felt his heart pounding in his chest.  He did not know if the filter would help, and he looked to Cutter.

The creature had slumped slightly.

“Filters will not scrub out engine coolant,” he said softly.  “At estimated leak levels, we have between two and four hours before concentrations in cabin become lethal.”


< Ep 9 Part 15 | Ep 9 Part 17 >

Episode 9 – Mayday, part 15

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!


The triage room was already crowded as Y observed it.  Over two dozen of the rescued were in here, many simply needing to be checked, others in need of serious medical attention.

From his frame of reference, they were not moving.  Though his metal body was walking through the room, and he was fully aware of its path and actions, that was not all he was aware of.

Every camera in the room were more eyes for him; he saw through every scanner, it was as if he held every diagnostic tool.  Data poured into him, and he parsed it nearly instantly, the operations occurring so quickly that it was difficult to even apply a number to them.

And through it all, he was also in each Response Team Shuttle.

The data from his four drones was far lesser, and there was a slight bit of lag in data that required him to wait for each update, but that was fine.  It was simple to parse.

All twenty seven people in this room would live without much difficulty, he thought.  Only two were serious cases, and he focused them first.

His stream of thought came through to Dr. Zyzus’s feed.

“This man has severe radiation poisoning.  I believe his exposure was at least four Grays.  Begin the Anti-Radiation Reactive Nano-Drone treatment immediately,” he wrote.  He dispatched a drone with the ARRND treatment.  It was unfortunate he did not have the man’s entire medical history, but he had access to some of the older file’s from the man’s service medical record, and tailored the treatment to his particular DNA.

The next man was not irradiated, but was heavily burned over much of one arm.

“Place into medical capsule two and begin a treatment mist to clean his exposed tissue.  Follow with debriding nanos and a further wash to remove them, then begin replacing the skin,” he ordered.

“Get this man an emesis container,” he noted, catching the look on another man who was about to vomit.

It was not exactly speaking in real time, more of a recording that he sent.  Barely a moment had passed, no one had moved appreciably.

He continued on.  Ten needed only treatments for shock and could be moved from triage.  Seven others had minor injuries that could be treated by nurses.  Of the last eight, six needed their own anti-radiation treatments and two needed bleeding injuries sealed.

All very simple.  But he had more patients coming; already twelve more were being unloaded from the drones and six more were outside of the ship, merely waiting their chance to unload the people aboard.

He began to prepare another three triage rooms and allocated the appropriate staff, just to be safe.


Lily could recall the time she visited Earth.

She’d been just a girl, her parents having acquired three of the highly sought-after tickets to visit the homeworld.

At the time it had been more annoying than anything to her, disrupting her whole life for a week of travel from her home station of Ran 5-5 to Earth orbit.

Hours on the cramped space elevator, then the shock of experiencing a planetary atmosphere for the first time.

The open skies, the smells of the ocean had been overwhelming and she had hated them.

She’d gotten sick to her stomach and rested for most of the next day, staying inside and refusing to go out for several more after that.

But on the third night her curiosity had gotten the better of her and she’d stepped outside, looking into the dark blue sky.

The twinkling of the stars made them look different than they did from space.  The distortions of the atmosphere on their light was novel to her.

And she’d hated that, too, at first.  While she had eventually loosened up and found herself enjoying her time on Earth, she hadn’t paid much attention to those twinkling stars again.

Now, she found herself wishing she’d spent more time at night watching them.

The stars outside the window seemed to twinkle like that occasionally, in the corners of her vision.  She wasn’t sure if it was just tiredness or perhaps a result of the medications.

She really should have covered the portal back up, but she had used some of the tools on the shuttle to check if any air was escaping.  The pressure in the pod was, if anything, a little higher than she expected.

“Ms. Brogan?”

It was Kai again.  She didn’t know how long it had been since the last time a message had come in, she’d lost track of time.

Lily knew she should pick up the call, but she found herself spacing out again, staring out into the stars.

She chided herself; even if she was tired and hurt, this was a survival situation.  She couldn’t afford that kind of laziness.

“I’m here,” she said.  “Do you have any news coming?”

“We’re working as fast as we can to help you, Lily.  It may take some more time, but we’re working quickly.  Can I get you to check something else for me?”

“Sure,” Lily said, then felt chagrined.  ‘Sure’, she’d said.  Like it was some casual conversation, not a talk with a Response commander trying to save her life!

“How is Officer Pedraza doing?” Kai asked.

“I just checked him . . .” Lily said, her sentence drifting off.  When had she done that?  She had to bring up her system, it had clocked the check-in.  It was almost twenty minutes ago.

She went back over.

Davyyd was still unconscious, his breathing still rapid.

“He’s okay,” she said, feeling immense guilt.  “But he’s breathing really quickly.  He stops sometimes, but it starts back up again not long after.”

There was more than six-second pause before Kai replied.  “I copy,” she came back.  Her voice betrayed nothing, but Lily had a bad feeling.

“I can forward you the medical drone’s data,” Lily said.  “I mean, I think I can do that.”

“Yes, please do.  As well as its scans of you.”

Lily found her fingers fumbling, feeling oddly numb.

She stopped, noticing that her under her clear gloves her fingernails appeared blueish.

It was just the lighting in here, she told herself.  The lights in these pods were a very crisp white.

She finished sending the data, remembering at the last minute to send multiple copies to help fill in gaps due to data loss.

“We’re receiving now,” Kai told her.  “I need to ask you one more thing, Ms. Brogan.”

“Go ahead,” Lily said.  Then, on a spur of the moment she added; “And just call me Lily.”

“Okay, Lily,” Kai replied.  “Can you open the air circulation panel and read me what it says the readings are?”

“Oh.  That’s easy,” Lily replied, moving to the instrumentation panel.  The air quality panel still showed all green, the air in here was fine.  No excessive carbon dioxide, the pressure was still adequate for breathing . . .

“Air quality is reading as normal  . . . pressure is up slightly . . .”  She read off the numbers.  “Humidity is getting kind of high.  That’s odd, I checked it earlier because I thought it seemed high but it wasn’t high then.”

“What about oxygen purity?”

“It says it’s fine.”

“I need you to bring it up in your HUD and check the specific measurement,” Kai asked, her voice firm and slightly insistent.

“Okay . . .”  She brought it up, pausing a moment before answering.  “It says that the air is 101.2% pure.”

That was a weird result.  It should not able to read higher than one hundred percent here.  Unless it just meant there was too much O2?

Kai didn’t have any reaction to that, as far as she could tell.  “Now please do the same with air density reading.”

“Air density is . . . wow, it’s like nine percent over normal.  That’s really weird, do we have too much oxygen or something?”

That would explain why she felt a little lightheaded.  Maybe the Drone had even turned up the oxygen to help Davyyd?

“Thank you,” Kai said.  Then, she added; “Lily, I’ll speak to you again shortly.”

“Okay,” Lily said, her stomach squirming.


< Ep 9 Part 14 | Ep 9 Part 16 >

Episode 9 – Mayday, part 14

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!


It felt stuffy, Lily thought.

It didn’t really make sense; the air recirculators were functioning, but some time ago she noticed she was sweating.

“What’s the temperature in the pod?” she asked again.

The readout appeared in her HUD; 25.8 celsius.  It was warmer than it should be.

“What is relative humidity?”

It only showed 30%.

Letting out a frustrated growl, she walked across the pod to peer in at Davyyd.

He was still breathing, his chest moving in an alarmingly fast and shallow way.

She knew that was not good; it could be from pain or a sign that he was dying.  She was not sure.

The medical drone was charging, but she went over and connected to it.

“Why is he breathing hard?” she asked it softly.

“Cheyne-Stokes breathing,” it replied.  She’d never even heard of that, and as soon as she saw the definition she regretted it.

“An abnormal breathing pattern of progressive faster and shallow breathing followed by an apnea.

“Frequently associated with heart failure, brain damage, or inhalation of certain toxic chemicals.  Noted as occurring shortly before natural death in some individuals.”

Her head swam and she stepped back.

Davyyd was dying and she couldn’t do anyting about it.

A message came in and she jumped.

“Ms. Brogan,” it began.  She recognized the clipped translated voice of a Bicet immediately.  “Require that you check certain aspects of pod health.  Instructions have been sent along with message – follow instructions and report results immediately.”

She saw the appended file.  It was a simple text file – and there were ten copies.  She wasn’t sure why until she attempted to open the first one and got a corrupt data error.

Six of the ten had the issue, and she realized that the data streams must be dropping packets.  It was a common issue for drones, and she kicked herself for not realizing it earlier.

Playing back the message, she noted that the audio had a static to them that suggested the dropped data.

It made sense why they were having her check, then.  If her radio went out, they’d have a hell of a time rescuing her.

She sent back a confirmation.

“I’ll check right away,” she said.  “Please come help soon – we’re not doing great.  Davyyd, he . . .”

She looked to the man, wondering how aware he might be.  She had best not say too much.

“. . . he’s in a lot of pain.  Please.  Come soon.”

Sending it off, she looked at the text file.

Getting the pod’s toolkit, she found the panel indicated and opened it.  There were several brackets and pipes she had to adjust to reach through.

It was clearly not well thought-out for this sort of servicing she thought as she skinned her knuckles trying to reach in for the releases.

This was drone work, she mused in annoyance.  Ironic.

As she took out more and more, she noticed a strange white build-up on some of the pipes.  It had no odor, but it was not a kind of build-up she’d seen before.

Getting the part cleared, she popped loose the panel, pulling it back – and gasped in terror.

She could see space.

There was no rush of escaping air, and she realized that it was not just an open port to space, but an optical panel; there to allow workmen to see parts beyond without having to actually expose the inside of the cabin to the vacuum.

Stepping closer, she peered out.

The stars beyond were white dots, solid and unchanging without a planetary atmosphere to make them twinkle.

There should have been outer hull between this panel and space.  She should not be seeing these stars.

Whatever damage had distorted the thruster port must have also stripped off at least part of the outer hull . . .

Another message came in.

“Your plight is known to us, Ms. Brogan.  I promise – we are seeking the best option to aid you.  Please hang on.  Your pod is rapidly moving away – if your search into cabin condition finds damage to outer hull, we recommend immediate termination of engines.  This will aid recovery.  Cutter out.”

Staring out into the stars for just a moment longer, she then hurried towards the main control panel.

The system was ready to kill the engines.  Once she did it, though, she would no longer be able to restart them.

Taking a deep breath, she pressed the button to kill them.


< Ep 9 Part 13 | Ep 9 Part 15 >