THE GATE
"Get over here!" Richardson shouted. Even though Sanders could have heard the slightest whisper over the comm system, her tone conveyed the shock of what she had just found.
"Sarah?" Truman said. His voice was faint. He leaped to the end of the large golden room. "Sarah!"
Richardson immediately held him back.
"What are you…" he began.
"She's alive. Barely; think ya'd want to keep it that way."
He looked down at her face. It looked almost angelic through the gold glistening visor. She definitely had her mother's face, with a strong hint of Truman's nose. He kneeled down slowly and touched an armored hand gently across the therma-glass of her shielded visor.
"Sarah?" he said. She didn't--couldn't respond. She lay here unconscious. But the life readings that Richardson looked at were more than active.
"Ya see that Truman?" Richardson asked. "They're almost off the scale. Brainwaves are spiking, almost as though she were in R.E.M. sleep times ten."
"She's alive." Truman said aloud. "Richardson…radio the ship."
"Aye" she said, then began positioning to find the Valkerie.
They stood at the end of the large hallway that they had walked in for the past half an hour. It would have taken them about twenty minutes less to get there if they had known to find the room directly. The room was vast. Large pillars holding up the ceiling lined with the crystal-like gold.
There was one source of light coming from the room.
At the farside sat a structure. It looked like an altar of some sort--a table six feet long, lined with crystals. In the center of the table sat a sunken concave circle. The bottom half of a sphere. To the side of the table sat another tall stand, the top of which had an identical concave sphere as well. It was obvious something belonged inside of one of them. But that object was nowhere to be found.
That is until Richardson had found Sarah.
At the foot of her still, unconscious form lay a crystal orb. It seemed to emit it's own dim light in the darkly lit room. Truman could hear it hum. He moved closer to it, almost forgetting about his daughter.
"I can't raise the ship," Richardson said. "There's too much interference."
Well what do ya figure," Henrickson said. "We're about 300 feet deep within a mountain of solid rock and surrounded by some freaky substance I've never seen. That could be the problem…ya think?"
"Now's not the time Taylor," Richardson said.
"He's right though," Truman said. "We're going to have to raise the ship. And we need to get Sarah out of here too." He looked around at his away team. "Any volunteers?"
"Aren't you…" Richardson began to ask.
"No…there's something…" Truman stopped for a moment. Of course he should want to be with Sarah. To make sure she was okay. He'd traveled over a billion miles to find her. But there was something about the room, about her condition. It called out for him to stay. He looked toward the floor at the orb, laying there, humming through his being. "I want to find out what's going on."
"I'll go," Sebastian said. "I can take her by myself. With the decreased gravity, it'll be like carrying a bag of feathers."
"Fine then crewman," Truman said. "Carry on."
Truman walked over to his daughter once again, and looked into her face. Then slowly he moved past her and picked up the orb.
"Radio in after you've contacted the ship."
Sebastian lifted Sarah Sanders gently yet firm. He began to walk toward the opposite end of the room. Truman watched as they disappeared down the dark hallway.
No one spoke a word.
***
"So what is it?" Henrickson said to Truman. They stood at the foot of the altar. Truman held the orb in his hand. It vibrated…it radiated. He heard faint distant voices.
"Maybe we should wait," Richardson said.
"What?" Truman said.
"Ah said maybe we should wait. Ah know what you are thinking ta be doing, and odds are Truman that this is what has to do with the Lady Grey disappearing, and why your daughter is the way she is now."
"So what do you suggest?" Henrickson said. "We wait for the entire Seventh Fleet to arrive before we make a move?"
"No I do not," Richardson said. Obviously tired of Henrickson's always challenging, hot-dog views. "Ah think we canna risk our lives and the lives of the crew until we have more data."
"Data? We were sent here to explore. So let's explore. Besides," he said. "What's a crystal orb got ta do with the disappearance of a three hundred yard mining ship? Probably nothing."
Richardson was silent. Obviously peeved.
"This is real life…not some fairy tale. I say you put it in there Truman."
Sanders had not heard one word either of them had said.
The voices buzzed loudly in his head. What they said was unintelligible to him. But he knew what they were saying nevertheless. He felt their words. Saw visions of the future. Flavors of the past. He saw currents of time, diverging and merging at every moment of every second. He felt his arm moving forward. But it was not him. Was this how Sarah had felt? He reached the orb toward the concave crevice. His heart beat loudly. He could feel his chest heaving against the inside of his armored suit.
He placed the orb in the circle.
"See…" Henrickson said. "Nothing."
Truman moved his hand back slowly. His breathing returned to normal. His heart beat slower. It was as though he was in control again. The last few minutes were a dream. He moved backwards from the alter. He didn't know what he had just done. But a sense of dread began to wash over him.
"The ship…" he said. "We haven't heard from the ship." He looked at Richardson, and Henrickson. "We need to talk to the ship."
"Sanders?" Henrickson said. "Are you okay."
Even in the controlled climate of the armored suit Truman felt large beads of perspiration forming on his face.
"Just contact the ship," he said. He walked away from the group, akin to a daze. Contrary however; he was more focused than ever.
"Richardson to Sebastian" She radioed. "Come in Anthony." There was nothing but static.
They all felt the rumbling at the same moment.
"What was that?" Henrickson said.
"Come on," Truman said. "It's not too late."
***
Other than the intense urge to leave the mysterious temple, Truman had no idea what he was doing. And he surely did not expect to see what he was about to see.
The away team stood at the entrance to the Canyon, the low warm golden light spilling from inside and stretching out across the Plutonian surface. There was no sign of the shuttle. The Plutonian sky however, was another matter.
The Valkerie hung in the sky miles above the surface, but it was not alone. Two large Marauder freighters and hundreds of Tenshi fighters littered space. Tiny spherical lights, explosions, filled the sky.
Even stranger--in the middle of the sky, positioned near Pluto's moon Charon spun a spiral like object. It looked like a small galaxy, commpressed and sped up to dazzle the eyes of the humans who tread there now. It's light was so bright, it reflected blue light off the face of even the Away Team. Truman knew exactly what it was. The voices had told him. It was a hypergate.
"What the…?"
A frantic voice broke through the static of the comm link.
"Richardson here."
"Get back to the ship!" they heard a panicking Tina Roberson. "They're attacking!"
***
Left foot, leap. Right foot leap.
Truman was able to clear at least ten feet after every two steps. The shuttle sat waiting across the frozen plain. Truman told Kobayashi to stand by in the Westminster while Sebastian made his way to evac the away team in the Thor. The Valkerie had more than enough firepower to deal with the Marauders, but between the hit-and-run strafing of the Tenshi and being forced to wait for the away team to return, there wasn't much they could do.
He looked up toward the sky. Ramirez was very capable and knew what she was doing. She could hold the ships off as long as she needed to. It was up to Sanders and his away team to get back to the ship as fast as possible.
There was the roar of powerful jets thrusting downward upon the Plutonian surface. The Thor hovered in front of them then landed gently. It's metal ramp opened up, and Sanders, Richardson, and Henrickson, scurried up into the hulking vessel.
"Kobayashi," Sanders said over the comm. "Can you get that thing to move?"
"Yeah," the nano-engineer replied over a static filled channel. "It'll be shaky but I can do it."
"Good, then follow us." Sanders said. "We're getting back to the Valkerie."
Jets fired again loudly, erupting upon the surface. Across the horizon he could see the Westminster taking off. He hoped Kobayashi was as at least half as good a pilot as he was an engineer. He was that good. Half would have been more than enough to get them home free.
The two bug like ships roared away from the small planet. Pluto's surface fell beneath them at an ever-increasing rate. The Valkerie grew closer. Tiny Tenshi whizzed by the UNASA starship.
How the hell am I going to pull this one off?
"Henrickson, what kind of weapons does this thing have?"
"Standard issue armaments." Henrickson replied. "Twin pulse-action front mounted guns, rear turret guns, twenty cluster bombs, and about three or four air to air missiles."
"And what about the Westminster?"
"Don't know," he said. "It's a mining ship. Those things are so piecemeal I wouldn't be surprised if they actually had the kitchen sink."
Truman thought for a moment.
"It's got extra armoring. Right."
"Yeah but…"
"Good…." Truman reached over and switched on the comm to the Valkerie.
"Sanders to Valkerie"
Static followed by a still panicking Roberson. "Sanders? I can barely hear you. Communications have been malfunctioning for the last thirty or so minutes. What's going on?"
"We're heading back to the ship…"
"With all of those Tenshi?"
"Never mind that. Just tell the Captain to open the rear cargo doors in precisely…", he looked down at the clock on the control panel. "Ninety seconds."
"What?"
Oh my God. Truman though. We don't have time for this. "I said, tell the Captain to open the rear cargo doors in eighty seconds."
Suddenly he lost the signal.
"Dammit" he shouted, slamming his fist on the arm of his chair. "No matter. Let's assume they heard us…we'll proceed with the plan."
"Which is?" Henrickson asked nervously.
"Kobayashi." Truman said in the comm. "Bring your ship in front of ours about five meters apart, and about three meters above us."
"What?"
"Just do it!"
The Westminster slowly began to move out of its formation and floated in front of the Thor. Truman waited until it was in the precise position then spoke again.
"Now close your front blast shield." He paused. "And if you pray…do that too." He turned to Henrickson. "Launch the cluster bombs consecutively on my mark. After you've launched the last one, target it and wait for my signal."
Henrickson, obviously a veteran of quite a few battles didn't bother to question Sanders. He simply proceeded to carry out his task as efficiently as possible. He launched all of the cluster bombs. They zoomed out from the underbelly of the shuttlecraft narrowly missing the Westminster in front of them. He immediately targeted the last bomb. The others flew straight among the maelstrom of Tenshi.
Truman made sure they were still on course for the Valkerie. The cargo bay was still closed. Truman whispered a quick prayer himself.
"Fire." He said calmly.
Henrickson slammed his hand down on the panel. The front cannon pulsed hot metal projectiles at the last cluster bomb.
"Now move us up right behind the Westminster." Sanders said. Henrickson complied.
The first bomb erupted in a bright ball of fired. It ignited the second. The second ignited the third. In mere seconds a trail of exploding bombs made a fiery path toward the Valkerie. "Hold on." Truman said.
The two craft headed straight into the explodings. Fire surrounded them. The Tenshi did not fire.
They came out on the other side.
"Dammit!" Truman shouted. The cargo doors were still closed.
"Opening doors…" he heard over the comm. It was Ramirez.
The doors opened slowly. They had about ten seconds to open enough for them to make it through.
Nine, eight, seven…
The doors were opened halfway.
Six, five, four…
"We're not going to make it," Henrickson said.
Three, two…
They heard the sound of ripping and twisting metal. The Valkerie slammed into the back of the Westminster. There was smoke. A small fire burned at the foot of the now closed cargo door. They looked all around. They were all alive.
"See I told you we were going to make it." Henrickson smiled.
***
"How are we doing?" Sanders said as he floated onto the bridge.
"Glad you gentlemen could join us," Brickstone said.
Henrickson, Kobayashi, and Richardson took their stations.
"Sarah…is she?" Ramirez asked.
"Fine," Sanders said. "In sick bay." She's alive and her vitals are strong."
"Good. What did you find?"
"Something…"
The blast was so violent that Truman was thrown clear across the room.
When next he opened his eyes, there was only chaos.
Ramirez sat strapped in her captain's chair. A sharp piece of metal sticking from her skull. Her lifeless eyes stared wide open into nothingness. Captain Ramirez was dead.
There were several wounded lying about. Truman attempted to make his way to his post in the navigation chair. Looking across the room he saw his station was destroyed--two takes frantically trying to put out the fire. Henrickson was unconscious, Brickstone was no where to be seen. Who knew if the rest of the command crew was alive.
He looked toward the gate that spun slowly near Charon. It was perhaps their best chance to survive, he thought. If they could only escape and regroup to fight again. And besides, chances were that whatever that gate was, it had everything to do with the Lady Grey's disappearance.
He didn't have to think on it long. It was crazy, but it had to work. They had no choice. Besides he thought. The voices. The voices had led him to this. It was what he should do. He fired the ship's thrusters from the Captain's chair and aimed the ship head long into the gate.
IMPACT
Date: Unknown
Time: Unknown
The Valkerie came exploding through the other side of the gate, into space, dark, deep in its completeness.
The asteroid was 2 kilometers long, and the Valkerie was heading straight for it. Truman had woken only moments before, dazed yet cognizant enough to switch all flight controls to the Captain's chair and figure out what in the hell to do. Looking around he saw some members of the crew, floating unconscious, their limbs looking as though they hung from invisible string mounted on the starship's ceiling. Henrickson sat beside him, semi-conscious, his eyes nearly open yet looking far off into nothing. Truman couldn't, or rather didn't have enough time to make many more observations. The asteroid was coming up fast.
Quickly he looked down at his in-flight display, and began gleaning information from the moment by moment schematics flashing across the screen. He ship was travelling at a mere 1000 kilometers per second--slow by outer atmosphere standards, but fast enough. The asteroid was approximately 20,000 kilometers away. Truman sighed heavily. In moments they'd be tiny bits of pulverized flesh and metal.
"Can't we slow down," he heard a voice say. It was Tina. She pulled herself up into her chair, strapping her harness tighter as she spoke.
"No power, no engines," he said blandly. "Does that tell you everything you need to know for the moment." He looked at the power gauges again and cursed God. "We can't slow down because there's not much to slow us down in a vacuum. No gas, no air, no friction. If you have any ideas I'd appreciate hearing them."
Tina shrugged her shoulders.
"Thanks," he replied. Suddenly the computer's monotonous warning voice sounded over the comm.
TWO MINUTES UNTIL COLLISION.
"Dammit" Truman said. "Dammit!" He crossed his arms above the display and rested his head on the, frustrated, and without an inkling of what to do. Somewhere in the back of his mind he saw Janelle and Sarah.
He almost didn't hear the voice through the backdrop of the blaring alarm. Like a small mosquito buzzing in his ear as he next to the blaring engines of an stratofighter. But somehow he did hear it, and disbelievingly turned to see Kobayashi hovering behind him.
"What just happened?" the large man said to Truman. He was covered in blood. Truman didn't even bother to ask what had happened--by reading the look on Kobayashi's face, he already knew.
"Never mind that young man," he said to the nanoengineer. "He pointed out the forward display toward the asteroid looming in their sites. "We've got a more pressing matter at hand."
ONE MINUTE TO IMPACT
"Main power is out and we don't have much time to do anything about it," Truman continued. "Options."
"We could reroute secondary power but I can't tell you how long that would take. Or we could,"
"Air..." they all heard a groggy Henrickson say from his seat. It was then that Truman noticed a small trickle off blood running down the co-pilot's forehead. "If we blow one of the air locks the pressure would send us firing in the opposite direction. We use that maneuver all the time in the stratofighters--we cut or engines and then can evade an incoming missile."
"Not enough pressure," Kobayashi replied. "It would take a lot more than that to get us out of that things way."
"Just a thought," Henrickson said.
"But you're on to something," Kobayashi replied. "Oxygen and Hydrogen."
"I hear you kid," Truman exclaimed. "We don't have much time to talk about it. Just go do it."
Kobayashi, gave a hefty shove off Truman's flight panel hurling himself cross the room to Richardson's control station. She sat strapped in the chair floating a few inches above her seat, her arms hanging in the air. Kobayashi lightly squeezed past her and reaching for the control panel. He pounded the keys furiously.
THIRTY SECONDS TO IMPACT
"Oxygen released," he said frantically, then began pounding at the control keys again.
The asteroid took up the entire forward display now. Every one was silent. Truman, a line of salty sweat beading on his forehead and upper lip, kept his hands ready at the flight controls. "Status!" he said to Kobayashi. This was cutting things much to close.
"Hydrogen away!" Kobayashi responded triumphantly.
Truman's finger didn't even take a second to hesitate. Immediately it pressed down on the small square above the main flight controls. When he was done he sat back in his chair and waited. It was all he could do. "Missile away," he said either calmly. He looked suspiciously around the cabin, then seeing no one looking, he made a quick sign of the cross. He turned to see the few member on the bridge who were conscious gawking at the oncoming mountain in space. Flipping on the comm for the entire ship his voice echoed through the cold metal halls of the Westminster.
"I suggest everybody hold on to something."
The missile zoomed silently through the cold vacuum. It's internal clock counted down while preprogrammed destination homed it toward the icy cloud of gas released from the Westminster. It's bearing straight it flew straight in. Then suddenly, it detonated.
The cloud of gas erupted in a great ball of flame. Bright and fiery it's orange circular ball of gas began blowing outward. Silent explosion after silent explosion, the began to over take the Valkerie. Suddenly the explosions stopped. But the shock wave slammed into the ship with so much force it visibly contorted the ship for mere moments before it creaked back to it's original shape. The Valkerie, caught in the blast quickly began changing course, angling away from the asteroid. It seemed as though the craft would miss it.
But in one terrible moment, just as the fore of the craft had cleared it, the aft slammed into the floating rock. With more explosions to follow.
The bridge was engulfed in a cacophony of sirens, terrible shouts, and twisting metal. Truman looked at his display. They'd almost made it. A second or two earlier and they would have cleared the object, but they were too late. He shouted over toward the conn, Kobayashi stood there, trying to gauge the condition of the ship.
"Outer hull is compromised," he said.
Truman looked back at the young man. He felt his eardrums expanding slightly outward. The first sign of stellar travel. When that happened it was a sign to get ready to die. Or think real fast.
"There's nothing we can do Commander." The only way to access the environment controls now is for the mid section of the ship. And it's all blocked off." He looked up at his Commander and shook his head. "This looks like it's it sir,"
For a moment though Truman stopped moving and listened. At this point sounds should have been a lot more muffled as air pressure lowered into nothing. But instead they grew louder. Somebody, somewhere in the ships mid-section had gotten to the controls. They were going to be all right. At least for now.
The young engineer looked almost amazed as he did relieved. "What happened? We should be..."
Truman wasn't going to let him finish. Kobayashi said the word he'd start to believe it. "Somebody was doing their job."
Slowly Tina and Henrickson moved over toward the flight station. Tina looked frightened. Henrickson was weary. Everyone else on the bridge was either unconscious still or trying to make sense of the whirlwind of the last two and a half minute.
"So what do we do now" Tina said placing a small shaking hand on Truman's shoulder.
"Hell if I know," he replied. Then slowly, he turned his attention toward the forward display.
To Be Continued....
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