Special 14, Part 1: A Rocky Beginning

Chapter One
//July 21, 2941. //UEE-Vanduul Contested Space.
This wasn’t the first time Fredrick had been in a situation this bad. He just wasn’t used to going through it solo. Then again, the situation was unprecedented for any budding young pilot like him; he was just 21, after all. Currently, the frustrated Chinese-American young man sought to remedy his situation by venting through his comms at Central Command.
“Damn it, he’s too good! Bulldog to CENTCOM, my turret gunner’s dead, I’m in severe need of assistance!” Fredrick roared over the radio to Central.
Command was quick to deliver the next blow to Fredrick’s resolve: “Negative Bulldog, you’re the only one left out there. We’ll try to get more birds in the air, just hang on.”
Continuing his strategy of “evade until assistance arrives”, Fredrick’s badly-damaged Hornet fighter flitted around the battlefield as he worked his way back towards the carrier, seeking protection in the form of the capital ship’s much larger and abundant anti-aircraft guns. Behind him, a trio of Vanduul Scythe fighters streaked through space like knife blades through water.
Knowing full well that he couldn’t last out in battle much longer, Fredrick brought his Hornet in on approach. “Bulldog to CENTCOM, open the hangar, I’m switching to gunner mode and initiating landing.”
Command was quick to voice their objection to his proposal. Fredrick heard the opposite of what he wanted to hear: “Negative Bulldog! Telemetry shows that your Auto Landing is malfunctioning. Pull away for manual approach and landing!” Of course, this would mean extra time out in hostile space, and with his ship in its current condition and the battle still raging, those extra few moments could mean the difference between his death, and living to fly another day.
It is for this reason that Fredrick elected to ignore Command on its order. Switching to gunner mode in his cockpit, he opened fire at his pursuers while his headset screamed objections and orders from CENTCOM. With all this happening around him demanding his full attention, he failed to notice that his Auto Landing was indeed malfunctioning as Command has advised him, and that his Hornet had begun to bank far too high.
CENTCOM issued one final warning to the hapless pilot maneuvering outside, as the soldier stationed on the other end of Fredrick’s comms relayed the order to pull away. Fredrick ignored the command, sparing a fraction of a moment to mentally celebrate as he finally managed to destroy the final Scythe just as it came back around from a swooping pass over his flight deck. His jubilation was abruptly brought to a literal screeching halt as his Auto Landing program flew his Hornet straight through a stack of crates and to a screeching, sliding stop on the deck of the carrier. Fredrick, at a loss as to how he managed to survive the dogfight, even if is gunner didn’t, simply sat in his cockpit, finally taking the time to breathe deeply.
And then everything turned to static. Fredrick could only see the words “SIMULATION TERMINATED” on his helmet’s HUD.
“CENTCOM, did you stop the sim or is this another bug?” Fredrick inquired.
A new voice replaced that of the recruit that had been on his comms. Whereas the previous voice was youthful and determined, this new one was gravelly and somber. It spoke, saying the phrase that every recruit either dreaded or welcomed at the end of a simulation: “Fredrick, get to my office. Now.”
//July 21, 2941. //UEE Naval Academy, New Austin, Terra.
Given that Fredrick knew he behaved in violation of his orders in the sim for what must have been the fifth time that quarter, Fredrick’s heart dropped into his stomach. He knew why he was being called to the commander’s office. It was time for another ass-chewing.
His gunner had heard the commander as well, since he and Fredrick were on a shared comm channel. “I don’t think the commander’s too happy about that last stunt you pulled.”, quipped Jimmy, Fredrick’s friend and fellow recruit.
Not about to let that go unchallenged, Fredrick shot back. “If I landed any later you would’ve ‘bled out’.”, he responded, making quotes in the air. “You’re alive because of me, technically.” Fredrick and Jimmy split up as they entered the corridor outside of the sim room, Jimmy turning to head for the flight suit lockers while Fredrick went the opposite direction to the commander’s office. Steeling himself for what he knew was coming, he knocked on the door to announce his arrival.
The gruff voice of the commander replied, ordering the recruit to enter. Fredrick couldn’t shake the feeling like he was a hyena walking into the lion’s den. Nevertheless, he knew that if he couldn’t speak to his commander, then he couldn’t possibly be expected to hold his own in battle once he graduated from this Academy, so he entered.
He walked in to find the sight of his commander’s back facing him, as the older man stared out of his office’s floor-to-ceiling windows. He then turned, and stared down the recruit standing before him. This certainly wasn’t the first time this particular offender had been in this very spot, but, unbeknownst to Fredrick, this particular meeting would be their last. At least, their last meeting on these circumstances.
The commander began with a deep breath, then began. “You know, what you did back there was something your dad would’ve done. He was just like that. Happy-go-lucky, confident… arrogant.” Fredrick took offence to this attack on his and his father’s personalities, but kept it to himself as his superior continued, his tone getting sterner and icier. “Fredrick, just what the hell am I supposed to do with you? That landing, if done for real, could’ve killed more than just you and your gunner. You completely failed to consider the possibility of other crew being present on EVA, not to mention the damage caused to the contents of those crates. For all you knew, they could’ve been packed with ordinance, which would detonate upon impact, creating a hull breach that would kill dozens and injure more.” Fredrick’s heart sank as the possible implications of his maneuvers were revealed to him. He berated himself at his lack of consideration and foresight. But his commander wasn’t finished yet. “This isn’t the first time you’ve pulled off a crazy stunt like this! This is not the time to imitate daddy!”
Fredrick knew he should say something to defend himself, but he was dumbstruck by his superior’s final comment. All he could bring himself to do was to quietly mumble out a “I’m sorry, sir. I was trying to save my friend and bring us home safe as fast as I could.”
The commander was not pleased by his attempt at appeasement. “Spare me, Fredrick. You’ve caused the other instructors and I one hell of a headache. Ever since your father died, you’ve been on a streak of disregarding the rules and commands issued to you, and you continue to attempt maneuvers that can get you or others needlessly killed! It is for this reason that the Board has decided that this will be your final offense. We concluded our discussion just before you came in. You are hereby discharged from this Academy for the lack of respect for your superiors and the orders they issue to you, as well as dangerous and negligent decision-making in the cockpit. Pack your things and get out of my flight academy by 0100 tomorrow.”
Fredrick was too shocked at this heavy-handed punishment to say or do anything to object, and he simply gave a weak salute and exited his commander’s office. Just before the door closed behind him, he could hear his commander mutter “We don’t need another Admiral Lee out there…”
The door shut behind him as Fredrick slowly walked towards the flight suit lockers and barracks in a daze, part of him refusing to believe that what just happened actually happened. As he entered the barracks, he pulled out his Mobiglas to check on his Academy record. He needed to make sure that this wasn’t really happening.
His hopes were dashed, however, as his records showed, in bold, dark red letters at the top, a simple
ERROR 919: RECORDS SUSPENDED (DISCHARGED)
He collapsed to a sitting position on his cot, and supported his head with one hand with his elbow resting on his knee, his gaze locked on the floor. He couldn’t tell if he held that position for mere minutes, or hours. And he no longer cared, so long as he got out of there as soon as possible, so as to cut off the impending breakdown at the knowledge that he no longer belonged where he sat. After changing into his civilian clothes, not even bothering to turn his EVA pilot’s suit in and electing to leave it at his cot, he began slowly packing his Navy-issued olive drab duffle bag with all of his belongings, including his dog tags. He then stood, took a shaky but deep breath, and made for the lobby. Arriving there, he took one last look around, a neutral but stern expression covering his face, and he exited the Academy for the last time.
>>>THREE YEARS LATER<<<
//February 20, 2944. //New Austin, Terra.
Fredrick was rudely jolted awake by the ever-irritating sound of his phone ringing. He checked the clock by his bedside, finding that it was 6 in the morning. It was Saturday; who in the name of the Lord could possibly be calling him at 6 AM on a Saturday? He still had an hour and a half left until his alarm was set to go off. Not to mention that this was one of his few weekends off.
Groggily, he rubbed his eyes with one hand while the other reached for his phone. Pressing the answer button, he lifted the phone to his ear, to be greeted by the deep, impossibly-alert-sounding voice of his friend Peter.
“Hey man, it’s me. I really hate to disturb you this early, but I need you to let me into the yard again. A very lucrative project came up and as you know, I always need the money, so I need to get the parts required ASAP.”
Fredrick could hardly believe his ears. Peter needed him to get up and out of bed, at 6 in the morning, no less, just because some “project” promised him a little extra cash? He could hardly believe it. But then he remembered that Peter knew that Fredrick owed him a favor, and this must be him calling it in.
Fredrick sat up in bed. There’s no way he could possibly go back to sleep after being woken up at this hour anyway. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
“Cool, see you there.” Peter acknowledged on the other end. Knowing that he was about to hang up, Fredrick took measures to secure all future opportunities to get his full amount of sleep, and caught Peter before he ended the call.
“Peter.”
“Yeah?” His friend sounded confused; of course he was, as it occurred to Fredrick that Peter’s job as owner of his “maintenance station” - it was really a chop shop and he knew it, but he hated it when people called it that, as it revealed the less-than-lawful methods he used to acquire parts - required him to get up early, so obviously he wouldn’t see the the issue in others getting up as early as he does. But be that as it may, Fredrick really needed his sleep.
“Don’t fucking wake me up this early again.” Fredrick said as he put on as serious of a voice as he could manage, despite his lingering drowsiness.
Peter defended himself, pointing out that he already said he was sorry for waking him this early.
“Look, I’ll meet you down there. Just… like I said, don’t do it again.” Fredrick finished, hanging up the call.
Fredrick rose from his bed, and walked towards the bathroom to start his day a little earlier than he had planned.
After completing his morning routine, Fredrick went down to the lobby to meet up with Peter. He found his friend, who was Caucasian, green-eyed with dark brown hair, sitting on a bench waiting for him patiently. The two exchanged few words, as Fredrick was still not fully awake, and headed off towards the parking lot.
Chapter 2
>>>February 20, 2944<<<
//ICS Evolen Station, Terra orbit.
On a station in high planetary orbit, in an apartment unit, two young women are also beginning their day. They were both sisters of the Lin family. The older one, a woman of about 25, made a last-ditch but futile attempt to wake her sister, gently holding her shoulder and shaking it back and forth as the younger girl drowsily stirred in her bed under the sheets.
“Hey, Sam. You can sleep in if you want, but I’m going out to see if I can land a job today.”, the older one said, only half expecting the other to awaken.
Her sister’s only response was to roll over in bed, facing the wall away from her sister, sending a clear message of “I don’t care, it’s way too early for this”.
A few minutes after her sister left, and after a few minutes of trying to get back to sleep, Samantha finally got out of bed to start her morning routine. After showering and dressing herself, not bothering to do anything with her long, dark brown hair except to brush it back and out of her face, she left her apartment, entering the stage of daily life on the station. Walking down the hall and into the main atrium of her apartment complex, she noticed a news story being broadcasted on one of the many screens adorning the walls of the lobby. Apparently there has been a spike in criminal and separatist insurgent activity in neighboring systems. Now that she thinks about it, she also sees more security officers around as well. She dismissed the thought of any attacks happening to the station, however. The station was of little strategic importance, so unless someone were to attack simply to make a statement, nothing was likely to happen.
Samantha left the atrium in the direction of the marketplace; her sister had left her a list of groceries and other things that they needed. Passing by a ship dealer, she looked in through the crystal-clear windows, casually examining the ships inside. She didn’t find anything too impressive inside: a few RSI Auroras and Kruger P-52 Merlins, with CO Mustangs lining the far wall near the large ship-sized airlock leading to the outside of the station. Hardly the Origin 300-series or M50s she favored. No one knew it just from looking at her, but those who knew her knew that she was a bit of a ship enthusiast.
She didn’t have much time for sightseeing, as the grocery list was very long and she wanted to have some time to herself, so she moved right along on her way to the stores.
----------
Meanwhile, in one of the maintenance areas of the ship, four men, wearing the garb of maintenance workers, gathered in a dimly-lit passage, all the while looking around them suspiciously; as if they knew something important were about to happen.
One of them spoke, his voice a hushed whisper. “Alright guys, you all know the plan. You’ve each got your two charges, so when we split up, head straight for the area that you’re supposed to plant them at. Then we meet up right back here. We’ve already got the escape ship waiting for us in the landing zone, but someone will notice it’s unauthorized if we leave it there for too long. Let’s try to keep this under 20 minutes. Oh, and try to keep outta sight. Same goes for hiding your charges. If someone notices what we’re up to, we’re screwed.”
The other three nodded in agreement, each taking a bag with them as they headed off in different directions to their designated charge-planting points. They reconvened after a short while, then quickly walked off towards their ship, landed in the maintenance landing zone. They all boarded their ship, a Drake Interplanetary Cutlass, which then quickly took off and sped away from the station. The leader grinned to himself as he brandished a small transmissions device from his pocket, and pressed one of the buttons on it.
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Samantha had finished her grocery run and was just about to start heading back to the apartment, when a massive jolt and rumble rocked the ground beneath her feet. People fell to the ground as the tremor took their feet out from under them. Staggered and suddenly very afraid, remembering what she had seen on the news in the lobby of her apartment complex, she dropped her groceries and looked around for the nearest sign indicating where the nearest escape pod bay was. She had practiced for this; the station ran evacuation drills every two months in compliance with federal law. She knew her sister also knew what to do, as she had participated in the same drills she had. What the drills hadn’t prepared them for, however, was the combination of the hull breach alarms going off, and the mass panic of the crowd of people in the marketplace.
When the station ran evacuation drills, the exercises were announced a day prior, so naturally people acted calmly during them as they knew when it was going to happen. This was not the case here. People ran in every direction, calling out names of others, or yelling for people to get out of their way. Samantha found herself trapped in this mob of chaos, which she found no escape from. She couldn’t push her way through; there were simply too many people in the way. Her heart dropped into her stomach as she realized that she may be unable to reach an escape pod. She could already feel the air getting colder and thinner. Adrenaline helped keep her mind clear, however, and she started looking for other options. As the mob pushed her along, she noticed that they were passing by the ship dealer from before.
Samantha recognized this as her ticket to salvation. She found new strength in herself, shoving her way vehemently through the crowd perpendicular to the mob’s advance. Finally making her way into the dealer, she ran for the nearest ship she could find: a P-44 Merlin. Climbing in, she prayed that its battery had enough charge to sustain life support until rescue or salvage crews arrived. She shut the cockpit and heard the hiss of the seal forming, isolating her from the chaos outside.
She checked the power supply, and was relieved to see that it had a full charge since it had been connected to the station’s power grid. She knew that wouldn’t last more than 36 hours, but it was her only shot at survival. After trying multiple times to navigate the unfamiliar systems of the ship, which she had no prior experience with, she finally managed to activate the “long nap” function of the Merlin’s life support, which was designed to put the inhabitant to sleep until the function is deactivated by emergency response personnel, in order to save usage of the air scrubbers. The cabin’s ventilation system began to add sedative vapors to her air supply.
Finally allowed a moment to rest, and with the vapors going to work on her nerves, the girl began to leave the land of the conscious, and simply sat in the cockpit, thinking of her sister and her friends. She desperately needed to know if they survived and managed to escape. But she was unable to stave off the effect of the sedatives, and finally fell asleep.
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Fredrick and Peter parked in the parking lot of the city’s scrapyard. They had done this precarious dance so many times they didn’t even need to consciously synchronize to do it anymore. Fredrick took his position at the gate, and started up a friendly conversation with the gatekeeper while his ID was checked, while occasionally “forgetting” to hand over one of his various cards to buy more time for Peter to accomplish his own half of the procedure.
Peter, meanwhile, would avoid the gate at all costs, as well as the gaze of the guard there. Walking to a concealed hole in the fence, he crouched down and made his way through. Casually glancing through the fence to see that Peter had made it through, Fredrick redirected his attention to the guard, who had finished checking his ID and allowed him entrance.
Fredrick was acquainted with the guard, so he was allowed to use one of their Polaris maintenance vehicles to get around the scrapyard faster. Fredrick drove around to his usual meeting spot to pick up Peter, who had hid himself between two massive engine components. Peter looked around to make sure there wasn’t anybody watching, then climbed into the cart. Security inside the yard was almost nonexistent, so they could afford to relax from this point.
After a short drive down a couple of the yard’s gravel roads, Peter spotted a ship that should have what he needed - the rusting hulk of a Freelancer MAX. Instructing Fredrick to stop there, the cart came to a halt just off the road.
Peter grabbed his shoulder bag of tools from the cargo bed of the cart and began his walk to the old freighter, his mind recalling where on the vessel he would find his required parts. Fredrick called out to him from his position behind the wheel of the cart, some repressed guilt over his known lawbreaking taking brief control.
“You know, I sometimes wonder why I let you take parts from this place…” Fredrick’s voice broke its way through Peter’s concentration.
Peter, not wishing to be distracted for too long, was quick to respond. “Because you know I need this stuff to run my shop and that this is about as illegal as I get? How’s that for reasons?”
Fredrick still wasn’t settled, but he knew better than to press the issue. Peter was right; if he didn’t get these parts, his business would die and then he’d be out of a job. And he couldn’t bear to see his friend jobless on the street. Fredrick was quickly snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the most damning of noises, given their situation.
It was the sound of a security car coming down the road.
Fredrick knew they had to move fast, so he leapt out of the cart and took off at a sprint towards his friend, who was pulling some component out of an external hatch. Not bothering to consider the dangers of physically jolting his friend while he worked, he grabbed Peter’s shoulders and yanked him upright, facing him. The component dropped to the floor and fell apart; Peter was not pleased.
“What the hell are you doing? You know this stuff can be fragile! Damn, now I gotta-”
Fredrick had no time for his friend’s scolding. Pointing back at the rapidly-approaching security car, he released his own retort. “Forget about the damn parts! We’ve gotta go!”
Peter’s mood instantly changed as they both took off back towards their Polaris, desperate to escape the rapidly-closing distance between them and capture. They climbed into the cart and Fredrick slammed on the gas, nearly throwing Peter out, as he had yet to strap in.
Just then, a thought occurred to Peter as he fastened his seatbelt. “Wait, you work here! Can’t you just talk to them and call them off?!” he yelled over the sound of the engine and wind blowing past their faces.
“No way! These guys already don’t like me because of something that happened a couple months ago! And now they see me here with a trespasser?! That won’t go over very well!” Fredrick shouted back.
Fredrick took the cart around a corner, trying to shake their pursuers. Peter nearly lost his bag on the turn, but luckily his grip on the bag held. Unfortunately, they failed to lose the security chasing them. Peter grabbed a random object from the cargo bed behind them, an empty bottle in this case, and hurled it at the car behind them, desperate for anything to increase their odds of escape. The bottle fell short of the car, but shattered on the ground just before their pursuers drove over it. The shards went to work on the rubber tire of the car before finally rupturing the front right tire, causing the car to temporarily lose control and swerve off course, coming to a sudden stop by crashing into a thicket of dry bushes.
Now that they had temporarily done away with their unwanted company, both boys turned their attention back towards finding a long-term escape solution. The route that Fredrick had taken was, unfortunately, a dead end, the road obstructed by a waist-high metal fence. Both boys, sensing they were running out of options, quickly hopped out of the cart and vaulted the roadblock. They followed their gravel path for a short run until they entered a flat clearing, unusually devoid of the usual scrap heaps and rusting ships. What they found in the middle, however, stunned them more than the lack of scrap surrounding them.
In the center, standing solid and imposing, was an old Aegis Dynamics Idris-M frigate.
Peter was quick to see that this was a much easier way of evading the security behind them, who could now be faintly heard running up the path behind them. Peter nodded his head towards the giant vessel while looking at Fredrick, and began running towards it.
“Come on! I’ll get us a way inside, they’ll follow us in, and then we’ll lose them in the corridors inside!” Peter relayed his plan to Fredrick, who had taken up a run behind him. The two young men came to a stop in front of an external console. Peter got to work on gaining entry.
“Don’t worry man, I got this.” Peter said, but it was secretly more to reassure himself than it was to put Fredrick at ease. Peter rummaged through the pockets in his bag before brandishing a hacking probe.
Fredrick observed the strange device, which Peter had bought from one of his “associates” early in his career. It was primitive, so it could only do a couple tasks, but it was reliable and vital to their escape.
“Never thought I’d find myself betting my life on that thing.” quipped Fredrick as he stood behind Peter, anxiously looking back the way they entered the lot. Peter was focused on his work, so he didn’t turn around, but seeing as he prided himself on his ability to multitask, he found it in himself to respond.
“Yeah, I used this thing to hack ATMs for you when you needed that bailout a couple years ago. Be thankful I bring it with me everywhere.” Peter responded as he plugged the probe into the console, observing small indicator lights come to life across it. Smiling internally, as well as a little externally, and thankful to the powers that be for his probe’s success, Peter watched as the main boarding stairs next to them opened. They had no time to stand around, however, and they both ran up the stairs to the relative safety of the passageways and corridors inside.
Fredrick suddenly became painfully aware that the guards were much closer behind them than they anticipated at this point. Fredrick put a hand on Peter’s shoulder, guiding himself and his friend to where he hoped they could find a hiding place.
“You know where you’re going, right?” nervously asked Peter to his friend, whose judgment was now the only thing between their freedom and their capture. What Fredrick said, however, did nothing to put his fears at ease.
“Actually, no,” he responded, his head turning to see as much as possible in the hopes of finding refuge. “My best idea is to hope we get lucky with a hiding spot, and hope for the best. I don’t like it either, but it’s our only choice.”
Just then, both were startled witless by a third voice; one which they could neither locate nor recognize.
It spoke harshly, as if it was that of a homeowner returning his home and finding it broken into, then finding and confronting the culprits. “Who the hell are you two?! Why are those guards after you?”
Peter was the first to respond, as usual with the two young men. “Wait, what?! Who are you, and how can you see the guards outside?” The answer they received answered his question, but supplied them with so many more.
“I’ve been on this ship since its construction! You’re intruders in my home! And I can see those guards because I’m the ship’s AI using the external cameras. I don’t want them finding me either, but thanks to you two, that’s gone out the window!”
Fredrick, being better with diplomacy than his friend, quickly found an insane, if workable, solution. “Well, seeing as no one here wants to be caught, and you’re literally the ship we’re hiding in, it’s up to you to secure our escape.”
The AI wasn’t pleased with this, but could also see the logic in the statement. “Not too big on planning, are you?” he asked as he sealed the entrance the two came in through. It was just in time, too; the guards had caught up, and were just outside the hatch when it closed and sealed itself. It wasn’t any problem to them however, as they took out cutting tools and started trying to force entry, as the boys could see on one of the screens connected to the external cameras.
Peter was terrified. He had never been in such a dangerous situation in his life. “They’re cutting the hatch! Whatever you’re gonna do, do it now!” he cried to the AI, who now held the rest of their lives in his metaphorical hands. Unbeknownst to them, their savior had been hard at work reviewing the ship’s systems, and finding that all the vitals were in working order - barely.
The AI notified them of the completion. “Just finished preparations. Better strap in!”
The boys complied, strapping themselves into whatever seat was closest to them, but Fredrick voiced his concern. “Wait, why are we strapping in?!”, he inquired, more than a little concern leaking into his voice. Just then, his question was answered by a low rumbling sound and vibrations under their feet. Fredrick knew that sound from his time at Academy.
It was the sound of very large engines roaring to life. The frigate was going airborne.
In addition to these developments, the various consoles in their room came online, displaying different statistics about the ship’s systems. The AI’s voice entered their ears once again, this time gentler but still focused.
“I’m Philip, by the way. I figure it’s best to get introductions done quickly.” intoned the intelligence as the ship came fully online. “Meet me on the bridge once I give you the go-ahead; we’ll talk then. Now I gotta concentrate on getting us away from the guys outside.”
Outside the ship, the engines roared to life completely, kicking up massive amounts of dust and debris, and roughly throwing the security guards to the ground. The now-panicked guards picked themselves up and ran for the safety of anywhere outside the lot, as its occupant lifted itself higher and higher into the afternoon sky of New Austin.
Inside, it was all quiet until Peter remembered that he had never been off-planet before, and he was hoping his first time leaving Terra would have been under much better circumstances.
He let out a groan, followed by a sage-like statement of, “I hate everything about this…”
Chapter 3
//Terra orbit. //February 21, 2944.
All remained quiet (or, relatively so given the size and less-than-ideal state of the engines and ventilation systems) until they broke atmosphere. Then true silence reigned supreme.
The AI-turned-getaway car driver spoke once again, saying they were now in stable orbit, and inviting the two shaken and slightly dazed boys to come up to the bridge and meet him in person. The boys slowly found their way to the bridge, after making several wrong turns and being chastised by the AI for “bumbling around like a couple of lost children”.
After introducing themselves, they learned that the AI’s name was Philip. Now that they were at least a bit more acquainted, and told not to touch anything if they didn’t know what it did, the boys finally relaxed into the best seats in the room, finally taking the time to breathe deeply and get themselves in order: Fredrick in the captain’s chair and Peter at the helmsman’s station. The mood of the room became actually serene and calm, only broken by the occasional notification from the ship’s systems - until Philip interrupted again.
“Guys, I hate to interrupt your unwinding session, but I’m getting updates from a bunch of news sources that the ICS Evolen station has been attacked by terrorists and destroyed. While I recognize the unethicality of what I’m about to propose, this ship is full of faulty or old components, and I think we should check out what’s left of the station and see what we can find to replace them.”
Peter wasn’t convinced; not in the slightest. “So our plan is to loot a place that was just terrorized? That sounds like a great plan to me!”, he quipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Unfortunately for Peter, Philip either couldn’t detect sarcasm, or he ignored it. “Glad you agree! I’ll set a course for it.” Peter knew he had been defeated, but he wanted to have one more attempt at changing Philip’s mind.
“Wait, I didn’t mean it like - aw, dammit…” Peter groaned in final protest. Fredrick could sense his friend’s distress, and came to his aid, saying an ever-effective “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
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A short while later, the station came into view through the bridge’s windows. They were all shocked at how extensive the damage was. Not only was there a sizeable debris field surrounding it, but there were also hull breaches at oddly specific locations; a telltale sign of deliberate destruction. They tried (and failed) not to think about how many innocent dead drifted among the wreckage. None of them dared speak a word - this was hallowed space, but they knew why they were really there, and it wasn’t to pay their respects.
Philip, being more well-versed in EVA procedures and safety, started to give them the basics of how to not die in space. “In order for you to go out to get stuff, you’ll need to use the old EVA suits, kept in the bottom aft airlock. The previous… tenants of this ship just used them recently, so I can assure you that they work.”
Fredrick’s attention was drawn to those who once lived on-board; apparently, they weren’t the first to live on this ship (the boys had unspokenly given up all hope of living lawful lives the moment the ship left the surface). “Previous tenants? Who were they?”
Philip’s answer was surprisingly nonchalant, for its content. “Oh, just some other criminals. On the run for some much worse stuff than the two of you, I assume. Smugglers, I think. They were using the junkyard as a hideout. Anyway, I’m scanning the station now so we can focus our efforts once we get started. I’ve already detected ships on the third deck, which has completely depressurized. Most of them were crushed when part of the deck above collapsed, but one of the non-damaged ones is a P-52 Merlin. Easy enough to access, it’s right near the entrance. There’s also a slightly-damaged Aurora CL, but it’s in worse shape than the Merlin so check that first. We’re looking for a radar sensor and a long-range transmitter. Which one of you is going out there?”
The boys settled on a tried-and-true method of determining who gets to brave the harsh void of space and walk among the remains of a derelict station:
Rock. Paper. Scissors.
Fredrick’s paper, despite his military-trained reflexes, lost to Peter’s scissors, much to his dismay. “God, do I really have to do this?” he groaned out, throwing his head back. Peter was just happy to be the one who didn’t have to go out on what was by far the most illegal and dangerous parts run of his life. Fredrick stalked off towards the bottom aft airlock, muttering his disbelief at his predicament.
Fredrick entered the airlock and put on the EVA suit, following Philip’s instructions on how to do so. While Fredrick waited for the airlock to depressurize, Peter made his way back to the bridge to monitor the situation. The airlock opened and the artificial gravity inside turned off, allowing Fredrick to float on what was his first EVA ever. Reluctantly, he boosted outside of the ship, and used his HUD to make his way to the nearest hull breach in the station while avoiding debris.
Peter’s voice came over his comms. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here to monitor everything as you go. Can’t have you out there completely alone.”
Fredrick wasn’t relaxed by his friends attempt however. “Being alone isn’t what I’m worried about…” he said quietly as he made his way through the hull breach, careful not to cut himself on the jagged metal skin of the station. “Philip, give me a waypoint for the Aurora.”
Philip responded by lighting up a point on his HUD. Fredrick made his way towards it, drifting past collapsed supports and sections of deck. Finally he arrived at his first destination.
“Alright, I’m at the Aurora. Peter, where do I look to find the transmitter?”
Peter, being experienced with repairing several Auroras in his time working at his shop, hardly had to think to answer. “Try the access panel underneath the cockpit labeled “DO NOT OPEN UNDER PENALTY OF LAW”. Heh, ironic.”
Fredrick used the screwdriver from the toolkit in his EVA suit to open the panel. Unfortunately, the transmitter was nowhere to be found. He relayed this to Peter and Philip (who weren’t that surprised at the transmitter’s absence, since the Aurora was just a floor model), then moved on to the Merlin. As he approached, he saw some sort of red light pulsing from inside the cockpit.
Still far away, but uneasy with this unexpected development, he let Peter know, hoping that his friend knew what it was.
Peter, in fact, was able to give a simple explanation for the light. “That’s a good sign of everything being pre-installed, since it means the power’s on. Odds are this’ll have a usable transmitter. Check the cockpit and tell me which console the light’s coming from.”
Fredrick moved in closer to the Merlin. Peering inside the cockpit, he let out a surprised cry at what he found inside.
The Merlin was still inhabited, and she appeared to be breathing, if the slow rise and fall of her chest was anything to go by.
“Peter,” he said uneasily, “There’s someone... inside.”
Peter couldn’t believe his ears. He knew how weak the life support systems involved in the Merlin’s “long nap” function were, how low the odds of success were. And yet here was a survivor among the wreckage! Recognizing the urgency of the new situation, Peter instructed Fredrick to get closer so he could see over his helmet’s camera feed.
“Looks like there’s a girl inside. Looks surprisingly unharmed, too. What are the odds on that?” Fredrick reported, in similar awe at this stranger’s luck.
Peter asked the question that had been on all their minds: “What do we do now? Should we bring her aboard?”
Fredrick was the first to speak up. “Woah, wait a minute. You’re asking me to drag a Merlin with me past all that debris and through the breach? That hole is way too small. Not to mention that even the Merlin is damn heavy for its size.” Philip had a plan, however.
“This ship has a cannon that’s big enough to blow a larger hole in the hull. Shall I do that instead?”
The very idea of being on a station, in the same room as an explosive-based hull breach frightened Fredrick to no end. “Wait!” he cried before Peter could give Philip the go-ahead, “Won’t that have the chance of destabilizing this area and trapping me in here?”
Philip couldn’t have Fredrick out there like this, alone and panicking in space among the ruins of a derelict station. He tried to put his nerves at ease. Putting on his most reassuring voice, he said: “Not likely. I’m a very good shot.”
Surprisingly, Philip’s attempt at bedside manner actually worked. “Eh, ok, I guess. Do I need to move back or what?” Philip responded in the negative, so all Fredrick did was close his eyes, hold his breath, and hope with all his might that this wasn’t his last act in life.
Philip brought this ship into position with quick and precise RCS boosts. A moment later, Philip fired a single shot from the Idris’s ship-to-ship combat weapons system, releasing an explosive round on its way towards the station.
A couple seconds later, a silent explosion blasted a new hole in the hull within the dealership, much larger than the one Fredrick used to enter. Looking over to check on his precious cargo, he saw that the girl in the Merlin was starting to breathe at a more normal pace.
“Guys? Guys, she’s breathing a little faster. Almost at a normal pace. Should I be worried?” he asked, his nervous state making itself known in his voice.
Peter knew exactly what that meant. It meant that the life support system had detected a nearby disturbance, and had started waking its occupant. This could only lead to one thing: a panicking girl in a ship, with his friend on EVA trying to calm her down, while in the wreckage of a station that was recently attacked. No good could come of that.
Peter quickly responded to his friend: “That means the ship detected a change nearby and started waking her up. We need to get her on board now!” he almost commanded, expressing his urgency with volume. “Get back to the ship and go to the hangar; I’ll open it for you. Grab the winch and attach it to the Merlin.”
Fredrick wasted no time boosting out of the breach as fast as he safely could, heading on a straight trajectory for the Idris’s hangar. Grabbing the winch, as per Peter’s guidance, he headed back through the new breach and attached the end of it to the Merlin. After he notified Philip that the winch was secure, the end in the hangar started to take in cable, and the Merlin began moving towards the breach.
Fredrick slowly moved alongside the Merlin, occasionally giving it a shove to move it out of the way of immovable debris. One it was through, and there was nothing more for him to do, he made his way back to the airlock, anxious to see if their rescue attempt had succeeded. After taking off his EVA suit, he made his way to the hangar, meeting up with Peter along the way. Fredrick noted that Peter once again had his hacking probe with him. When asked about it, he stated that the cockpit won’t open on its own from the outside, so he brought the probe along to remedy that.
The two boys entered the hangar and noticed that the artificial gravity inside was still deactivated. They floated out to the Merlin (Fredrick had to guide Peter since he had more experience with weightless maneuvering), and slowly and with much difficulty rotated the ship so it was upright. Philip slowly brought the gravity back online, and the boys and Merlin drifted to the floor.
Peter walked to the right side of the ship and plugged the probe into an access panel, and after a bit of electronic negotiations, was able to open the cockpit. With a pop and a drawn-out hiss, the cockpit’s pressure equalized with that of the hangar, and slid back. The noise had an unexpected effect on the ship’s occupant, who woke with a start and looked around at her new surroundings. Her apprehension only increased upon seeing Fredrick and Peter looking back at her, and she greeted them with a surprised cry, followed by a “Who are you?!”
Peter took the first step towards calming their new acquaintance. “Easy there”, he started, putting his hands up and keeping his distance, disarmingly, “Take it easy. Just breathe deeply and steadily until you’ve relaxed. We’re not gonna harm you in any way.” he said slowly and calmly.
The girl followed his advice, and said nothing until her breathing returned to normal and she calmed down. “Okay”, she said with a still-trembling voice. “Who are you?”
Fredrick introduced himself and Peter, and Philip came on over the ship’s internal speakers to give his name. The girl followed up with asking how they came to find her.
Philip answered, “We were in orbit when the attack occurred.” Peter was more concerned about the wellbeing of their new guest, however.
“We’d better get you out of that ship. Are you hurt?” She took a moment to look herself over, mentally and physically. She found no issues, save one.
“Does a massive headache count?” she groaned.
Peter knew of several serious injuries that had a headache as one of their symptoms, but didn’t tell her that out of interest in keeping her calm in light of what she’s been through. “Well, we’d better get you into a med room just the same. Philip will look after you until you feel fit to get up and move on your own.” he said, as Fredrick helped her get up and out of the Merlin. Peter moved in to support her under her right arm while Fredrick got under her left.
She let out a groan at suddenly being upright, but followed it up with a quiet “Thanks.” to the boys supporting her and practically carrying her out of the hangar.
Peter accepted her thanks. “Yeah, a Merlin’s crappy emergency life support can do that to you. I’m just glad it’s nothing too serious, because we’re not exactly equipped to handle that.”
Fredrick knew that she wasn’t in the mood to do much talking, so he silenced his friend with “We can talk more later. Let’s get you properly rested so you can start thinking straight.” After dropping her off in the ship’s sparsely-stocked med room, the boys headed back up to the bridge, neither knowing quite what to do with their newly-complicated situation.
Chapter 4
//February 21, 2944 //Terra Orbit
Fredrick took a seat at the captain’s chair again, while Peter idly walked around and looked at the various displays and stations around the bridge. Philip’s representation - a middle-aged bearded Caucasian man of average build - “stood” on the holotable.
Fredrick broke the silence, his thoughts getting the better of him. “What are the odds of her being alive for us to get her out?” he asked, to no one in particular.
Philip knew the precise answer, but knew it would do the boys no good to know it, so he simply responded with “Not in her favor. I won’t even bother with the numbers.”
Peter was also worried about their new acquaintance. “Is she still ok down there?” he asked, turning to face Philip on the holotable. Philip’s expression was one of apprehensive optimism.
“Well, I can see her through that room’s security camera. She’s asleep right now, and probably will be for another few hours in order to sleep off the sedatives from that Merlin’s long-nap program.”
Fredrick then thought of an easy way to remedy their situation. “Well’ tell us when she wakes up.” he said. “I want to know where she wants us to drop her off.”
Peter turned to look at Fredrick this time. “We just found someone in the wreckage of a station, who probably lost everything if she happened to be living on that station, and you’re just gonna leave her somewhere? ‘Bye bye’, just like that? Shouldn’t we at least get some info about her, like a proper introduction?”
Fredrick understood his friend, but there was another concern he had. “I understand where you’re coming from, and I agree, but also consider this: she wakes up alone on a strange ship with two young men who she doesn’t know. How do you think this looks to her?” he asked his friend.
Peter’s expression changed to one of understanding. “Oh, yeah. Good point. I just hope she doesn’t think we’re gonna do something like… that to her.” With that, conversation on the bridge ended, the issues at hand temporarily dealt with.

>>>Four Hours Later<<<
Philip, not needing to sleep, had been kept alert by monitoring the camera feed from the med room, which housed the unexpected guest on-board.
Its occupant had begun to stir, drawing Philip out of running at his lower capacities. Now fully alert, he set about waking the other “crew members”.
“Hey, wake up guys.” he said, just loud enough to draw the other two out of their slumber.
Fredrick slowly sat up from his slumped position in the captain’s chair. “What’s going on?” he groggily asked, while turning to look at Philip.
“She’s awake,” he answered. “By the way, I’ve put us on a course to move us away from the station and out of Terra orbit. I didn’t specify any particular destination, so that’ll be up to you guys later on.” Fredrick got up and moved over to Peter, who had fallen asleep sitting at one of the consoles.
Fredrick gently shook his friend’s shoulder. “Hey Peter, wake up,” he gently but firmly said. “It’s time to go meet with our new guest.” Peter slowly got up and followed Fredrick out of the bridge.
After taking a short walk through the corridors under Philip’s guidance, they arrived at the door of the medical area. Fredrick knocked on the door to inform its occupant of their arrival. “You feeling okay?” he asked. “Mind if we come in?”
The girl’s mind was still slightly bogged down by recent events having occurred while she was under the influence of heavy sedatives, so it took a moment for her to remember who was at her door. After her mind finally reached consensus after a few moments, she allowed them to come in.
Fredrick was the first to speak to their guest, eager to start introductions. “So,” he started, “we figured it would be best if we had some sort of introduction to each other. We gave you our names when we pulled you out, but you were in no mental state to give much of a response. Can we get your name?”
She took a moment to consider whether or not she should let these two strangers know anything about her. After considering that if they wanted to do anything to her, they would have already, she reluctantly spoke up. “I’m Samantha Lin,” she said.
Peter spoke next. “It’s good to meet you, Samantha. Let me tell you, you must really have Lady Luck looking out for you, if you lived through that.”
Peter’s words brought a question to her lips before she could consider them: “Have you heard about any other survivors?” she quickly asked, desperately worried for her sister and her friends.
Fredrick brought up his Mobiglas with a news article on the attack, which featured a list of recovered and rescued individuals. “Yeah, they’ve picked up all of the lifeboats and released a list of survivors. I’ve got it here if you want to see it,” he offered.
“Please,” Samantha said, her need to know of her loved ones’ well-being entering her voice. Upon searching the lists once, then another two times however, her hopes weren’t nearly as high, and her eyes began to glass over. This didn’t go unnoticed by the two boys.
“You okay there?” Fredrick inquired.
Samantha’s voice began trembling again, and she looked up at them with watery eyes. “I, uh, lived on that station with my sister,” she said. “S-She wasn’t on that list,” she finished, her voice breaking at the end.
Peter had never personally experienced a loss like this before, but he had several friends who had, so he knew at least a part of their pain. He didn’t want to leave Samantha without any sympathy, especially after she found out that her sister is likely dead in the wreckage of her former home. Nevermind the fact that she was still pretty much a stranger; sympathy is universal. “Oh God…” he said, finally finding the words to express himself. “I’m so sorry. Do you have anyone else to, uh, to go to?” he asked. His strength was in finding solutions to problems, and he wanted to fix this one as soon as possible, no matter how far outside his usual skill set it was. Unfortunately, Samantha’s next words told him this was no easy fix.
“N-no,” she said. “She was the only family I had left.”
‘Left?’, wondered Peter, confused at what she meant by that term. He knew better than to ask her about it now, though. Luckily, Fredrick saved him from the awkward silence that was sure to follow.
“Well, we’re going to another station to get some supplies. We can drop you off there if you’d like.” With that, both young men turned to exit, after giving her their condolences for her heavy loss.
They walked back towards the bridge, their heads filled with questions about their futures now that things were so complicated. Peter broke the silence. “What are we gonna do now?” he asked. “And I don’t mean the other station. I mean long-term, what’s the plan?”
“First things first;” Fredrick said. “We have absolutely none of our stuff with us other than our clothes and whatever you have in that bag.” Fredrick gestured to Peter’s backpack, which Peter hadn’t taken off since they left the planet. “And there’s almost no chance of us not getting caught if we go back down there to get our things. So we’re gonna have to literally start from scratch.”
“Good thing I’ve been saving…” Peter mumbled, as they arrived back on the bridge deck. “I’ll be able to cover basic necessities for myself for a while, but I’m not sure if I’ve got enough for you as well.”
“If I may make a recommendation?” Philip asked as his avatar flashed to life on the holo-table, “I may be able to get us to a planet with a low crime level so that you won’t be recognized, but there won’t be police everywhere. Once you’re there, you could use that tool of yours to hack an ATM and get enough credits for everyone. A suitable system would be Magnus, specifically Borea. Shall I lay a course there?”
“Plan sounds good enough to me, what do you think?” asked Peter as he turned to face his friend.
Fredrick shrugged. “I don’t see any alternative; we may as well do this. Go ahead, Philip.” Philip’s expression turned serious. “A quick word of warning: most of this system is controlled by Drake Interplanetary and their corrupt private security contractors. Be on your guard once we arrive. Oh, and be sure to tell our guest what’s going on and where we’re going.”
“I’ll go tell her,” Peter volunteered as he left the bridge once again.