Symbiosis: Chapter 50

“Maria Mitchell, come in! We’re under fire, repeat, we’re under fire! Pegasi ship has opened fire!”

“We read you, Osprey, we’ll be right there!” Jackson yelled at the com. “Rougeau, go!”

The Maria Mitchell jumped out of its orbit around the moon and in two minutes emerged from the dark side into the distinct light of Eta Cassiopeia. In the background, Cinco glowed in icy pale blue and green covered in heavy white clouds.

“I’ve got them, sir,” Rougeau said, rattling off some coordinates that Jackson ignored. He sat centered, focused out the bow windows at the space between themselves and the planet. They were still too far to see the Osprey with the naked eye.

“How long?”

“Four minutes, Captain.”

“Can they last four minutes?”

“Pegasi ship is armed but not a war ship,” May said.

“Charge the Tesla and stand by,” Jackson said.

“Aye, sir, charging Tesla.”

“Attention all hands,” Jackson voiced to the whole ship. “We are about to engage the Pegasi in combat. All hands secure stations.” He closed the channel and looked hard out the windows. “Is that the Osprey?” he asked his officers.

“Aye, sir, and the Pegasi ship in pursuit.” An orange glow from the Osprey’s rockets followed behind it like a beacon for the Pegasi ship.

“Open a com to the Pegasi spacecraft, quickly!”

“Go, sir.”

“Pegasi ship, cease fire on the shuttle Osprey or we will open fire. Your commander and crewman are on board the Maria Mitchell.”

“Maria Mitchell!” Lieutenant Lee broke in. “We’re still under fire. These bastards are serious about killing us!”

“Were almost there, Lieutenant, try dogfighting. We’re almost there,” Jackson said as calmly as he could.

“There’s the Pegasi ship!” Rougeau shouted. Jackson, May, and Rougeau all craned their necks toward the view out the bow and could see a golden spacecraft larger than Maria Mitchell on the tail of their silvery Osprey. They were just specks, but grew larger quickly. The ships came toward Maria Mitchell and she raced toward them in the blackness.

“We’re venting plasma!” came Lee’s frantic voice.

“Open the shuttle bay! Sound collision alarm!” Jackson yelled to either officer who had ten free seconds to carry out the order. “We have you in visual, Osprey.”

As Jackson tried to talk his pilot in another blast of solar yellow shot from the Pegasi ship and hit the Osprey, knocking it out of gimble.

“Get a medical team to the shuttle bay,” he shouted. “Rougeau, can you pick them up?”



“I’ll try sir,” he said. Jackson knew that maneuvering the Maria Mitchell was like sailing a battleship. He jumped out of his chair and sat next to Rougeau to control the Tesla as soon as the Osprey was clear. He was an expert marksman with a laser but the Tesla was another animal altogether. It could shoot a bolt of lightning exceeding ten thousand kilowatts and as far as ten thousand kilometers, but like natural lightning, it never took an arrow-straight course.

“They’re a hundred kilometers from the shuttle bay,” Rougeau announced. Maria Mitchell twisted in the knife fight to scoop the Osprey, obscured by her keel, into her belly. Jackson quickly targeted the golden vehicle and squeezed the handle. Power briefly dimmed throughout the ship before a streak of silver blazed out of Maria Mitchell’s muzzle. It struck the golden ship as the power resumed on the bridge, and the Pegasi vehicle was instantly stopped in its path.

Maria Mitchell quaked as it seized the shuttle; another jab of yellow voltage escaped from the Pegasi and the Maria Mitchell rocked back when the snake of plasma struck the underside. Quixote appeared at the elevator door.

“Take the con!” Jackson shouted. Before xe could answer Jackson bolted into the elevator just as the door closed. In ten seconds he was at the lowest level running down the corridor to the shuttle bay.

“Pressurize the bay!” Jackson yelled as soon as he came on the deck. Bowen and Wagner stepped in front of the captain.

“The space doors are damaged, sir, we can’t seal them.”

Captain Jackson stood at the glass panel that looked out onto the shuttle bay. The Osprey was inside, smoking from its starboard side but all he could do was stand and watch. His crew couldn’t get out, and no one could get in. He spun around and threw open a closet door grabbing an environmental suit and chucked it at Wagner, another one at Bowen, and then he grabbed one for himself.

“Take some O2 masks out there!” he commanded. He nearly jumped into the EV suit and grabbed a helmet, locking it on then slamming his hand on the override button to open the bay door. Wagner and Bowen rushed in. Although the compartment wasn’t secure enough to fully pressurize, the gap in the doors was only a few centimeters.

The security specialists unlocked the Osprey’s hatch and Wagner climbed in with the O2 masks.

“Bowen!” he yelled and waved his partner to join him. Jackson stood at the hatch and watched Wagner working to extricate Lieutenant Lee while Bowen strapped an oxygen mask on him. He looked at the other two, Dr. Scott Gregory and Sgt. Catherine York. Neither were conscious. Bowen fastened a mask over York’s face then climbed over her to get to Gregory, placing the third mask on him and fastening it securely.

“Where’re you going?” Jackson asked the security men. Both were carting Lieutenant Lee out of the vehicle by his arms and legs.

“We’re taking him to sick bay!”

“One fireman carry! I need a hand here!”

“But sir!” Wagner cried and indicated a look at Lee’s belly, fairly gushing with blood. “We can’t!” Jackson hadn’t given thought to Lee’s specific injury. He nodded.

“Go!” he told them. He looked back at the other two. Gregory was in the rear of the vehicle, unconscious, but not bleeding nor laying abnormally. York was closer to the hatch, also unconscious, and she had a serious gash on her head and burns on her chest. She was in the more extreme condition, but like Chen Lee, she’d have to be dragged out or wait for more help; she couldn’t be carried out without causing more injury.

Outside of the shuttle Jackson heard metal grinding against metal even through his helmet. He began losing his footing and felt his body lifting as if the gravity had gone out. He grabbed a hold of the grips on the hatch and saw the bay doors had creaked open a third of a meter and stars sparkled through the crack. The shuttle began to slip, several centimeters at a time, towards the widening gap.

Ohholyshit the bay was losing what little atmosphere it had and space was going to vacuum them out without mercy. He looked at York, he looked at Gregory. The Osprey slid towards the bay doors and tumbled over until the hatch was almost over the gap, breaking the hatch door off its hinges. Jackson grabbed a hold of Gregory when he tumbled toward the hatch, and did his best to lift him over one shoulder when the vacuum pressed them against the unstable breach. Jackson struggled against the extraction with Gregory on his back.

He shoved one boot heel in the crevice and forced himself up, holding onto various grooves and niches in the shuttle hull to haul himself away. Like struggling against a squall, he urged his feet forward and fell inward through the control room door, rolling over and depositing Dr. Gregory on the deck.

He clambered to his feet and pulled on the door to return for York, but it was stuck tight. He looked up and witnessed the bay doors open a full meter and pull the shuttle toward the maw until the hatch was over the break. He tried the override but the door would not unlock. From his vantage, he saw tools and portable equipment fly out of the shuttle and into space, followed by Sgt. York.

Tom shuddered with helplessness, unable to scream. He wrenched his helmet off and threw it down, shaking his head, gasping for normal air. An icy sweat broke out on his skin; his knees wavered and he dropped to the floor. Noticing Dr. Gregory seemed to be waking up. He reached a trembling hand toward the doctor's neck, seeking a pulse in his carotid. Mills shot into the control room with Wagner a step behind.

“Are you alright sir?” Mills asked. Tom could only nod at first. He felt his chest crushing in on him.

“Get... get ss-Scott to sick bay. How’s Chen?”

“Adams is worried, but I think the boys got him there in time.” Tom shivered from muscle fatigue, agonizing over what couldn’t be unseen, what he would never forget. The other two hauled Scott to a gurney just outside the control room and rushed away.

The captain slumped over on the floor, one hand on his face trying to hide from the decision. The ceiling of the control room was dark, hard, pressing. He clamped his jaw, clenched his hands into fists and slammed one into the wall. The life and death decisions were always his to make. It came with the eagles on his shoulders and was clearly defined in his job description. About the only thing he hated more than himself right now were the two Pegasi in his brig.

The shuttle shifted again with an ear-splitting BANG against the hull. He stood to see what the vehicle was doing; it appeared stable, finally. He opened an intercom to the bridge.

“Bridge, Quixote.”

“I need engineers and... a repair crew down here before the shuttle falls out of the hold. On the double,” he said coldly. He’d have to suspend grievance for later. “What’s our status?”

“Understood, Captain. The Pegasi ship is disabled and adrift. We’re at station keeping between Cinco and its moon.”

“Rendezvous with that ship. I want these pirates off the Maria Mitchell right now.”

“Aye, Captain, right away. I’ll have Byrd and Painter down immediately.”

“The bay is depressurized; they’ll need EV suits and gravity boots.”

“Aye, Captain. Sir, are you alright?”

“Jackson out.”