Isaac tumbled through space, flailing while the gargantuan battleship fell away into the distance. The jettison protocol had immediately opened all the disposal ports and evacuated the contents of the reactor core vault. As he spiraled, he watched the reactor swirl in and out of vision. He reached in desperation, and his rotation slowed as each hand slid across the glass surface of the reactor core also tumbling with him.
Decelerated enough to ease nausea, Isaac tuned his radio to the high band to call for the Excursion Unit. “Mayday, mayday, mayday. Man overboard.”
Throwing his arms out, Isaac hugged the metal scaffolding enclosing the reactor core and slowed himself. His skin tingled from its radiating energy. The power it gave off tugged at him, like he was magnetic, or more like something gripping him by the wrists. Despite knowing that each moment he clung to the radioactive reactor sheared more and more off his life, he was grateful not to be tumbling into the cold void.
Then he spotted Erik unconscious and whirling away from the reactor, out of arm’s reach of the Alucar. Both were approaching the core. Isaac wondered if the pull from the reactor would hold his feet. Curling up, he eased his boot onto the glass surface. As if by suction force, his boot snapped to the sphere. With caution, he attached his other foot to the glass and stood, head pointed in the direction where Erik would cross.
Yanking his hands from the core, Isaac stood up and stretched to grab Erik. As the marine floated closer, it looked like he was almost too far away. With arm extended, Isaac noticed on his wrist display that Erik’s tracking beacon was offline. The strike from the drone must have severed its power source. There was only one shot to save Erik before he drifted off into the cold void, never to be found again.
“This is Excursion 47, no contact, pulse your transponder.” The Maintenance Excursion Unit’s radio operator Gerod called out.
As Isaac reached for Erik, he strained to get as close as possible without dislodging himself from the core’s surface. His fingertips grazed the marine’s shoulder, but Erik drifted by despite Isaac’s desperate swipes. Then Isaac recoiled into a crouch as the Alucar drone’s torso drifted by. Spinning wildly, its wrist blades danced, aching for the chance to sink themselves into Isaac.
Still ducking, Isaac flipped up the radio menu on his wrist display as the drone passed by. After pulsing his transponder, Isaac flipped his radio permanently to the high band.
“Excursion 47, I’m secured to an active core. I have one more on a terminal trajectory away from me.” Isaac radioed the MEU. “I need a bearing sync.” In space, directions were only relative to a specific body. A bearing synchronization would orient directions based on who requested it.
“Copy, go for bearing sync,” Gerod replied.
With the drone now passed him, Isaac stood up once more and, in a hurry, shot from the hip. Pulling up the orientation app, he looked at Erik and the laser unit on his helmet strobed. Isaac’s wrist display vibrated, indicating it sent the sync.
The app displayed what it read the found target on a course from zero bravo toward 030 alpha, indicating Erik was moving away from directly ahead toward a point upwards and to the right relative to Isaac.
“Green line confirmed, 030 alpha.” Gerod replied.
From around the massive battleship, in front of an exoplanet with purple and gold cloud cover, the MEU burned hard, with a wide berth. It came to a slow drift along the path Isaac designated. The boxy utility ship had several pyramidal thruster canisters atop its elongated frame. At the rear, were two sets of cylindrical tri-pack XL-boosters, almost half of the ship’s length, to move heavy ship components and haul ore. In front was a toothy quad-grip, what it used to grab things and to where it tractored mined ore. What was built for maintenance and mining was called into service as a makeshift drop ship.
“Negative visual contact.” Gerod radioed. They couldn’t see Erik.
Isaac looked around, expecting to see Erik’s silhouette against the MEU. But he too lost sight of him. Panicked, Isaac took stilted, beleaguered steps in the direction of the MEU along the surface of the reactor core. He brought his radio back down to the low band.
“You out there? We need some directions.” Isaac called out to the marine.
Isaac cursed.
“Dammit marine, say something.” He spoke under his breath, channeling Isaac’s officer brother, Jakob.
But the radio silence was colder than the depths of space, sending a chill up Isaac’s spine.
“I see him.” A deep voice called out over the low band. It was Jakob. “I’m going after him.”
A tethered figure rocketed out from the airlock of the MEU. It was Jakob hurling himself out with a mix of haste and calculated motion beneath the boat and toward a point that silhouetted him against the exoplanet afar. Attached to his back, the tether extended and stretched. Then Jakob snapped to a halt. Isaac breathed hard, tensing all his muscles, hoping that his brother saved Erik.
“Move to 312 alpha, I need slack!” Jakob called out; his voice strained.
“Copy, moving.” Gerod replied as the MEU burst into motion.
At this distance, Isaac could barely make out movement among the silhouettes, keeping track of what was going on by the umbilical out the back of the MEU.
Then a stream of laser fire ignited the void beside the exoplanet like shooting stars. What followed was stillness then radio silence. Isaac hoped the still-nearby drone didn’t get his brother too.
“Retract, RTB,” Jakob called out, his voice calm. “Target secured.”
The tether reeled Jakob back as the MEU rotated, aligning to advance on the core. The boat closed in on the sphere as Jacob entered the airlock. The four grips on the front of the ship extended and enveloped the reactor’s sphere. Using the armature for stability, Isaac yanked himself from the surface of the core and climbed over the MEU. Atop the ship was the ore compressor, with multiple hydraulic pistons that condensed freed chunks and powdery bits into more manageable bricks which were loaded into the cargo hold.
Climbing down the rear of the MEU, between the massive thrusters, Isaac found the airlock open and his brother already inside the cabin. With the press of a button, Isaac cycled the airlock. After a moment of atmosphere rapidly entered the space, the secondary door opened, and Isaac entered the ship. Then he rushed over to discover Erik’s fate.
“Is he going to make it?” Isaac looked over Jakob’s shoulder.
Jakob waved a mediscan gun over the sergeant, silent. Isaac, frustrated by his brother’s silence, looked up and around to get someone else’s opinion when he found the cabin empty, aside from the four crew at the front of the ship.
Confused, Isaac looked back to Jakob. “Where’s the rest of your team?”
“I’m it.” Jakob continued to scan Erik.
Isaac drifted backwards in shock and bumped into the wall behind him. “T—there were twenty-five of us when we left.”
“Yeah, now there’s three.” Jakob’s voice dripped with venom. Then he took a deep breath and steadied himself. “We thought that part of the hull was vacant, and we were wrong.”
The medical scanner completed and gave Jacob a readout on the top-mounted display. “If he’s lucky he won’t have to crap out of a bag for the rest of his life.” Jakob let out a defeated sigh and lowered the scanner, then brought it back up to give it a second look. “And his two bottom ribs are broken. He’s lucky his autoplast went off. It barely had anything left.” Jakob pulled off the mediplast canister from Erik’s hip and wagged it, the indicator red to show empty.
Then Jakob tossed Isaac a blood-soaked bag. “Here.”
Isaac looked down, confused. “What’s this?”
“Our haul.” Jakob secured Erik to the bench. “Take something while you can.”
Inside were cans of vegetables and prepped foods.
“This isn’t enough to feed everyone on the lifeboat.” Isaac muttered.
“Clearly. There are 22 less mouths to feed in exchange for that. Get it while you can.”
Hesitating, Isaac reached in and retrieved an ancient can of beans. He stared at the overly joyous images of people on the front, sitting at a dinner table. The picture was faded with time. He wondered if there would ever be moments like this again. Jakob snatched the bag from his hand, shattering Isaac’s self-pitying thoughts and prompting him to stow his can of beans on a pouch on his hip.
Then a cacophonous alarm blared from the cockpit.
“Airlock warning!” The pilot called out.
Jakob and Isaac turned to find the Alucar drone prying open the airlock door on the monitor posted behind the cockpit.