"Diamond Backs and Back Breaking Labor." Deliverance. Part 3
14 Jul 2016Stryker Aune
<< Deliverance. Part 2
It was a downed ship. By the look of her, A Diamondback. Scout or Explorer…It was too far away to tell. Virtually identical in appearance. Though the scout is a bit smaller. I drove the SRV up to the ship. All of its running lights were out. Even the cockpit. Its belly buried into the surface of the planet. It had some scorch marks along the hull, and it was apparent, that it took on some high caliber projectiles. From outward appearance, it was in bad shape.
Where was the pilot? As soon as I thought that, I saw the escape pod laying a little ways off. Its emergency location beacon was not flashing. I drove the SRV up to it. I couldn’t scoop it as the hold was full. I might be able to use the skiffs crane to lift it up but there is nowhere to put it. First things first. If the pilot is alive in that thing, I need to get it to a place with atmosphere. The small extraction site’s habitat would have to do. I pointed the SRV back to the site and made my way to it. Once there I unhooked the Skiff via a console control. The Hab’s SRV hanger was not large enough to accommodate the rover, and the skiff at the same time. The next step was to bring the Hab online. I linked the SRV’s neural link to the Hab, imputed the necessary command, and security controls, and hoped that that everything worked, which by some miracle, it did.
The Hab’s environmental controls came online, ran through its diagnostics, and started generating atmosphere and pressurizing. Good. Now to unload the cargo hold on this thing. I drove it into the SRV hanger. Lights flickered on and the door closed behind me. The dead silence of near vacuum stated to fade as atmosphere filled the bay. Once the display indicated safe pressures, I exited the SRV, and stretched my legs for a moment, and started unloading the small cargo hold. It didn’t take long, and soon enough I found myself back in cockpit of the SRV. Decompression went without incident, and I quickly made my way to the crash site. But more specifically, the escape pod which I promptly scooped up. Without much hesitation it was back to the Hab…
Not good. I was back in the Hab. The escape pod had failed. There was a large dent on the bottom side, and a small pin sized hole. Decompression must have been pretty quick. The pilot was dead. With literally no atmosphere, and temperatures dipping down to 190 K ( -118 F, -83 C) this planet couldn’t support even anaerobic bacteria. So he was essentially persevered. Who is he I wondered? I rapped my fingers on the pod…. There is a ship….and Grunt wasn’t expecting me back for at least 3 days, like I cared……I wonder…could I fix it? Did it now fall under salvaging laws? If no one was to claim it, I could. I felt a knot in my stomach. Excitement.
I looked down at the pod. “Well brohemian….Your dead, no offense. I’m sure you were a stellar dude and my condolences to you and yours, but….I think I’m going to claim you ship. Any objections?” I joked. “I didn’t think so.” Man, how did I get so twisted? I had to work fast. If Grunt found this, he would confiscate it from me. Not only that, but if anyone else was looking for it…they could claim it. It’s obvious it was in a fire fight, and logical to conclude that someone might be on the look-out for it.
The first thing to do is get it under auxiliary power. From what I saw, it most likely will be void of atmosphere. It’s critical I get the environment under control to make any further repairs. I have 30 minutes of oxygen reserves before I have to refresh in the SRV. Give myself 10 minutes leeway, that leaves 20 minutes to do any work. Alright…. I took stock of what I had. And what I could use. The Hab had a back-up environmental generator. Looks like I’m cannibalizing it…
SRV’s skiff was loaded with the atmospheric generator. Well, dismantled and in parts, I headed out to the crash site. Once there, I took a deep breath. “I have to work fast.” My finger pressed the decompression command, and the SRV slowly lost its atmosphere. The emergency back up on my suit kicked on.
“30 minutes of oxygen reserve remaining…” The voice said.
I stepped out of the SRV, and walked over to the ship. I knew where the access port would be, on the back. I found the override panel, and pulled it off. The handle was there. I took it in my gloved hand, twisted it. Gave it three pumps, and pushed it back in.
Nothing happened.
“Come on.” I repeated the action.
Nothing.
“Common bastard.” I did it again.
The outer airlock door broke open. I placed my hands in the newly formed crack, and muscled it open. It was work. Them doors are heavy.
“25 minutes of oxygen reserve remaining…”
I crawled in and located the inner lock override. Same action as before. This one worked on the first try.
“Must have been primed.” I reasoned as I muscled that one open.
The interior was dark. I turned on the hand torch to provide illumination. From first glance, it wasn’t too badly damaged on the inside. I made my way to the cockpit and had to override that door manually.
The canopy was cracked. Might not hold…I looked for the auxiliary backup reserve, and found it. I flipped the switch. The displays in the cockpit flickered on.
“20 minutes of oxygen reserve remaining…”
Good, the batteries work, capacitors and auxiliary generator.
I called up the diagnostics screen and focused on the environmental controls. I tried to boot it up. Failure not holding pressure. It was nonoperational as I suspected. The question is, what’s out?
I headed back to the engine compartment, and focused on the environmental generator. It was pretty obvious what the problem was. The compression tank had a hole the size of a large dog in the side. Must have blown out…
“15 minutes of oxygen reserve remaining…”
Don’t have enough oxygen to really do anything at this time. Time to go back. I made my way back to the SRV.
I sat in the SRV recharging my reserves. I pulled out a pad and started to draw up schematics. The compression tank from the Hab will –mostly- work, but the problem is, pressures. The Hab’s tank will pressurize more so, then the ships original. That’s because of sheer volume. The Hab is larger. So, I need a way to restrict the outflow as not to blow out the ships environmental ducting. I have a regulator, but the ships flange is circular. The Hab’s tank is a lock and seal, and its square. I have to figure out how to fit a square peg into a circular hole, and make it air tight. As I pondered, I looked over to the ship, and noticed a piece of shrouding, used to cover the armor plating, just hanging there…I need to fabricate…
“30 minutes of oxygen reserve remaining.”
That is going to get annoying. I had pulled out my welders set. It was strapped to my back. I ripped off the piece of loose shrouding that was just dangling there. It’s not needed. Just makes the ship look pretty. And I have a better use for it anyway. I took it over to the bed of the skiff and kicked on the welder, and started cutting. This is hazardous in itself, but doing it in an environmental emergency suit…That’s just down right idiotic. I couldn’t think about it. Just make the cuts. score the perforations, and bend the metal. Weld the seams. Weld in the flange from the regulator, and fit the lock and seal. Weld that too. I really hope this works…
“10 minutes of oxygen reserve remaining.”
That was fast…lost in the work, I lost track of time. I had to drop what I was doing and hustle back to the SRV.
Okay. That’s done. Now to get that tank into the ship.
-The third excursion included pulling out the old tank. That wasn’t too bad. Some bolts had to be broken. I didn’t bother removing it from the ship. I just pushed it over and rolled it to the side. At this point, I cut a hole in a bulkhead that was directly over where the new tank would have to sit.
-The fourth excursion. I backed up the Skiff close to the ship. This was necessary because this planets gravitational field was slightly over 1 G. 1.05 to be exact. Not exactly low gravity. I used the hoist on the skiff to lift the tank and place it into the ships air lock. I squeezed myself in, and pushed past the tank which was on its side to fit into airlock. I attached a strap to it, and started pulling it deeper into the ships interior. Grunting and straining. My legs and back were burning. I cursed. And this is the easy part. I would still have to tip it up. I threaded the straps through the cut hole. Firmly grasping the straps I placed my feet against the bottom of the tank to provide leverage, and pulled down hard on my makeshift pulley.
With one hand I would tug, then quickly wrap up any loose strap around the forearm of the other in a winching action to keep it taunt. The tank slowly tip upward. I continued to press my feet on the bottom of the tank and straighten my back, yanking, and taking up more strap. I found myself yelling from the exertion of the exercise. But it was working. I just hope it doesn't rip my suit.
I stood there, catching my breath. That damn tank was in place. Some more welding. Fit the jury-rigged regulator and pressurize the system. That would have to be the next trip in which would be in the morning.
"5 minutes of oxygen reserve remaining."
Deliverance. Part 4 >>
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