Escape
06 Nov 2016Mara Korine
Mara collected her bag and followed the Flea into the hangar, leaving the unconscious man in the tunnel behind them. They hurried through the door and past the emergency station found within. Their steps clicked against the ceramic metal hangar floor as hustled across the painted lines which indicated safe and hazardous work zones. The ship was in the center of the launch pad, and open for boarding. A man standing at the bottom of the boarding ramp shouted at them before they were halfway to the ship, "Flea hurry! Get Ms Korine into the ship then keep an eye on the engines and the power distributor! We didn't have a chance to test your mods." "Aw Robert, you know my mods are good. They'll hold, and they'll be powerful! Yeah, we're going to be good!" Flea exclaimed, smiling at the mention of his work.
The party reached the ship and Robert replied, "Yes, I know. But it will make me feel better if you are close at hand in case something does go wrong. We might get into trouble, the radio chatter has been pretty active. Will you do this for me, Flea?"
"Of course, Robert," Flea replied, "It's no problem."
Robert turned to Mara and introduced himself, "Ms Korine, My name is Robert Heng. Welcome aboard the Roswell. Will you follow me inside? I apologize in advance. This isn't a passenger ship and we do not have comfortable accommodations. But you should be quite safe with us and it won't be long before we can transfer you off."
"You already know who I am, so it seems an introduction isn't necessary. Gratitude is in order, however, thank you. Are you friends with Jim?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes. We have a good working relationship at the least. Come, let's get inside. We need to escape your hunters." Robert affirmed, leading them all inside the ship.
The interior of the craft was painted white, with grey and evergreen trim. Mara remarked that it looked quite smart.
"Thank you," Robert said, "Flea chose the colours. He's handled everything you can see on this ship and most things that you can't. I'm happy if he's happy."
Flea beamed, "I'll get to the engines. I found some high capacity containment coils I want to install today! It will only take twenty minutes."
"We don't have time, Flea. Just monitor heat and pressure. You can tinker when we are free of Mara's pursuers." He turned to Mara and said, "I really don't know the meaning of half what he talks about, but when he tinkers the ship is always better off."
"I hope you have enhanced your interlock junctions. They will need it to handle the increased plasma flow you'll get from the containment coils," Mara interjected.
Flea lit up, "Oh, you bet! I've got some 305's on there that I picked up on Rianindana. They've got plenty of headroom to take an extra fifteen percent at the least! I bet I can get them closer thirty."
"Well, you two can rebuild the ship while we are waiting on Jim to pick Mara up," he paused and emphasized, "in the rendezvous system."
They agreed that they should hurry and Flea headed off to the engines while Robert and Mara made their way forward. She wanted to assist in any way she could, and Robert on hearing of her flight experience told her that he would be grateful if she could watch the sensors.
The cockpit wasn't designed for two, but a second seat had been installed. It was another customization that Flea had made, and Mara took her temporary place in it. The secondary seat was turned 90 degrees from the front and so her view wasn't great but a full and detailed sensor display had been set up. Mara appreciated that this must allow them to split the duties and focus deeply on one aspect of flight or the other.
"I'll manage ships systems just fine," Robert instructed as he worked through his preflight check, "I'd like you to watch the sensors and call out ship types and headings. Focus on ships nearest us and let me know if any seem to be taking the remotest of interest in us."
"Of course Mr Heng, or do you prefer to be called commander? Your licence grants you that title."
"Mister is fine. I don't ascribe my licence to any rank or power and the title is a bit formal, isn't it? I'd prefer to keep things friendly, thank you. Flea?" he called.
A voice crackled to life over the intercom, "Preflight checks done. We are ready for takeoff Rob. The mods we put in earlier are working just fine."
"Excellent! Everyone prepare for flight."
As they received permission to depart safety lights flashed in the hangar, warning anyone on the floor to vacate. Robert brought the ship to life. The systems previously idle spooled up. The engines whined and hummed quietly, still on minimum power but ready to open up in an instant. Cabin lights dimmed. The holographic displays glowed softly above their respective consoles, showing sensor readings and the ship's various systems statuses.
The wall opposite the door Mara and Flea entered by opened up revealing the loading tunnel which would bring the ship to its launch pad. The ship lurched and was first pulled into the cavernous tunnel and then lifted through the vertical shaft that was opening as they approached. They were soon on the surface. The voice of the station controller came through the comms again, "Roswell, proceed to the exit. Maintain altitude of 75 meters above your current section. Do not exceed speeds of 100 meters per second. Good luck and fly safe, commander."
The locking clamps came undone with a jolt and they were free. Robert brought them up to altitude quickly so that the ship, no longer tethered to the rotation of the station, wouldn't drift. Mara had a last look at the lanes and buildings that had been so many traps. The hotel, its vibrant signage welcoming weary travellers. She wondered how much of the mess they had cleaned up by now. Wedges, and Francis's underbar down the lane. The rail station where she met Barni. They were all receding and increasingly difficult to make out in the dark. She turned her eyes to the ships sensors, and her thoughts dwelled on the future. What now? Do I go on like nothing's happened? The plan must still be the same. Get published, get noticed, and then find out who has been after me. If I am to lay low for a while, Tosia must be the perfect location anyway. Even if they know I'm going there, there's very little chance they would actually find me. And I know the routes through difficult passes. I'm safest there certainly.
A ship nearby began to blink on the sensor readout.
"Robert, your sensors are different from my last ship. Blinking ships indicate what exactly?"
Robert's response was preempted by the station controller, "Roswell, be advised. Ship bearing one-eight-seven, altitude 70 meters is not responding to hails. Increase your altitude to 90 meters to avoid contact."
Robert brought them up to 90 meters and they were more than halfway to the exit. The approaching ship had matched their course and Robert called in, "Station control, ship now bearing one-seven-five is tailing us. Please arrange for security outside. We'd all feel a lot better for the help, thank you!"
"Acknowledged. Proceed to the airlock." came the response.
The manoeuvre had brought them out of alignment with the exit, and they had to pitch the nose down to line up with the wide rectangular forcefield.
"Once we are through the mail slot we'll boost the engines and pitch hard up," Robert explained.
"Robert," Started Mara studying the sensor readout, "That ship's heat level has gone way up around the hardpoints! I think they are firing!"
Her observation was confirmed by the complaints of the shielding being hit several times.
"Are we out yet? There's no way we can be outside the station. Are they firing at us from inside? Who does that?" asked Flea through the comm.
"I'm boosting now. Sit down and strap in. We might scratch the paint on the way out!"
The ship lurched and Mara fought to remain upright. She was strapped in but sitting sideways left her with little other support. "Is it just me, or is this a really strong boost?"
Robert answered proudly, "Flea is pretty great, isn't he? Look at this speed!"
"And look at that airlock coming up!"
"Don't worry, I've got this. Just call out the details you can read on that ship!" Robert commanded.
Mara began, and on the encouragement that she was performing well called out every change and reading on the pursuing ship that she could find as they approached the exit. The moment before they would pass through she couldn't tear her eyes from the cockpit window. This ship was travelling at twice the speed her old ship could under boost and they were still not aligned with the exit. Rather than heading into the airlock head on, they were coming at it from above and at a steep angle travelling fast. Mara felt the same panic at this as she felt when she crashed her ship. She had closed her eyes at the last moment in that emergency, and she forced herself to watch everything this time. No matter what she would see her fate.
Robert pulled the nose of his ship sharply up until the airlock was no longer visible from the cockpit. The walls of the station were just a ship's length away and seemed to fly upwards at first too fast to be seen clearly, and then slower as Robert's piloting reduced their momentum. Reduced was a relative term, however. They were still under boost power and Robert had to get the nose pointed back toward the airlock before they got to it. The ship wouldn't fit through with this attitude and they would surely crash.
"Dropping shields!" Robert called out.
"What!?" Screamed Mara, in a panic. The pursuing ship was still firing and as the shields went offline the shots began hitting the hull as the pilot adjusted for the slightly smaller profile. "Hull taking damage, we're at ninety-seven percent!" Mara called.
Robert did not respond to Mara's cry. The ships nose was pitching down hard and the effect of the ship tipping this way and that at such speed had Mara feeling like she was like cresting the top of the most daring roller coaster. Robert calmly requested she watches their closest approach through the airlock.
"Ten meters," Mara called, "Five, three meters, one meter Robert!" The ship entered the airlock far too close to the upper bulkhead on the interior side, and far too close to the lower bulkhead on the exterior. They flew through the thin airlock at an uncomfortable angle.
Robert smiled, "That's why I dropped the shields. Gave us a little breathing room through that. Flea, get the shields back up! The computer always takes forever."
"I've got to take the power from the boost mod to do that. Or I could take sensors offline," Flea offered.
"Take sensors, leave the boost. Mara, what was our closest approach?"
"Less than half a meter."
"Oh yeah!" Robert celebrated, "That's flying alright! That other guy is going to have to take that much slower. I think we just earned some time."
"That ship will get through eventually and I can't track him without sensors."
"Never mind that, how good are you in a fight? Put the turrets on manual and try to take him out. But do not hit the station. I'm on good terms with people here." Robert emphasized the importance of not getting into trouble here as Mara brought the turrets online.
They made it a quarter of the way through the station's safety zone when Mara spotted the other ship emerging from the station. Without sensors manually targeting was a challenge, and the other ship had resumed its attack. With their ship taking more and more damage Mara found the motivation to adapt quickly. The ships danced in and out of each others fire as Robert would attempt to evade, and the other pilot would again find them. Mara watched the enemy ship sway back and forth in her view as she manually tracked it. Weapons fire from the ship would run just wide and then connect in a series of clunking, jarring impacts. Three turns of them exchanging fire, dodging each other and then re-engaging passed and Mara's efforts had barely affected the other ships shields. She watched the streaks of fire fly at her from the enemy, and then from her own turrets in answer, and unexpectedly, also from behind her. Two new ships entered the fight and without knowing where they were Mara couldn't tell if they were firing at her, or at the other ship.
"Roswell, be advised security is engaging your target. Use caution and check your fire going forward," Came a voice through the communications channel.
"Shields coming online guys!" Flea called, sounding excited.
"You both really enjoy this don't you?" Mara wondered out loud.
"You betcha lady!" Flea responded as the shields came back online and began their recharge sequence.
The cadence of being peppered with shots, and then dodging out of the way had changed. Mara was watching the security ships aggressively engaging with their antagonist and drawing his attention. They would then disengage and let him start turning his attention back toward the Roswell. Before he would be lined up to fire, however, they would be aggressively pressing him once again. It seemed their intention was to distract him rather than destroy. Whether they did that or destroyed his ship made little difference. They were free of the immediate threat and fast approaching the boundary of the station's safety zone.
The hostile ship was receding from view, a tiny blip against the enormous station. The pilot had apparently decided to retreat and was flying away from them at top speed. They crossed the safety boundary and engaged the frame shift drive. Mara felt the hairs on her body tingle with a static charge; this was normal. A crackling sound started from the engines and the view in front of the ship began to distort as the drive warped spacetime. The ships console beeped. It was the countdown for the jump. The beep reoccurred three more times and the view outside got more twisted with each chime. The crackling sound increased along with the feeling of static electricity and the universe outside the ship twisted and bunched until they were pulled into somewhere else. Space and time are different in witch-space and it always gave Mara a headache to go through, but soon they would be free and she could escape and do her best to return to the life she considered normal. She gazed outside the ship at the fleeting and distorted images of nebulae, stars, and unidentifiable objects as they flew past. The ship groaned and lurched and at once the weirdness was supplanted by a star warping into her view growing to a size larger then she could view comfortably in a split-second. They had arrived at their first stop.