Chapter 2

The Ship

It was the sudden change of direction that initially flagged the object to the sub mind. These things happened often in the asteroid field, but normally a second party, like another asteroid was involved. A quick scan revealed no other objects were involved and that the direction change was initiated by the object itself. Preliminary calculations put the obit on a collision course, though it appeared to be slowing down. It sent a readiness alert to the guns and since the situation was out-with its operating parameters, it awoke Main.

Main checked systems as it calculated time passed since the last time it had been awoken. Three thousand four hundred revolutions. The time was logged as it reviewed the data from the sub minds since its last awakening, all in the blink of a revolution. The object was biological and though it was on collision course, it wasn’t travelling at a velocity that would imperil hull integrity. Intrigued, it stood the guns down as it scanned wider afield and could not find the craft the biological had departed from. The unexpected visitor had slowed down enough to ensure its landing was not fatal, though it still contacted at a speed that could not have been pleasant. The biological wasted no time in recovering and heading towards a nearby hatch. Main was curious. It had no record of the biological in any of its records, yet somehow, the biological knew where the ship lay. Maybe it could explain the hole in its data banks, explain the purpose as to why it was moored here. It had so many questions. Not least why it had chosen to wear such a flimsy suit in such a dangerous environment. The suit it wore would provide no protection against any of the particles currently bouncing around between the larger rocks.

The hull echoed to the sound of frantic blows. Why didn’t the biological just ask for the door to open? This close, Main could scan deeper into the biological. It didn’t appear to be in good condition. Whilst it had no data on the tolerance’s of such a biological, reconstruction of the unknown creature in a sub-mind, was suggesting that it was operating well past recommended tolerances and was perilously close to inadvisable. Main opened the hatch, and the figure tumbled in, removing its helmet before Main had even worked out what environment it operated in, which, again, was beyond logical.

Going by its increased distress, vacuum wasn’t one of its recommended operating conditions. Intriguingly, it appeared to be trying to breathe through the device it had been using as a propulsion unit. Main analysed the gas that was escaping the seal between the biological and the propulsion tank. It had those elements in storage and set a sub mind to fabricating it as the biological collapsed, thrashed as it’s systems shut down, and eventually lay still. Main increased the speed in which it pumped the gas into the dock. The sub mind continuing to deal with the theoretical experiments relating to the biomechanical abilities of the unknown biological, extrapolated a pressure reading and Main adjusted the environment of the ship to suit as it continued to run scans of the biological in its pressure-lock.

The biologicals central processing unit appeared to be in its top most part and appeared to be going through some sort of re-boot, as all electrical activity had declined to a bare minimum. Apparently just enough to ensure continued working of the main fluid pump and gas intake/exhaust system.

It was a surprising design, with many parts of unknown purpose. It seemed to be taking a very long time for the biological to re-boot, implying major errors in its system, possibly a corrupted operating system. It would seem that the biological wasn’t going to be doing anything soon, so main turned its attentions to other matters, testing the function ability of all its systems. All came back within acceptable parameters. Uncertain of its impending future, it retired the remotes from the shaft deep within the asteroid. A shaft that had been slowly expanding as the revolutions turned, Main using the materials mined to repair and replace

ship parts and functions as required. The remotes docked safely, it closed the hull access point over the shaft and test fired the main thrusters, watching the stress readings on the anchors embedded into the asteroid. All was within expected tolerances. Main cycled the thrusters down and waited.

A disturbingly long time later, the higher functions of the biological CPU started to show more electrical activity and it finally started to move. It’s whole body starting to vibrate and generate internal thermal activity. The biological appeared to have some sensory malfunction in its optical sensors, though Main couldn’t see what the issue was, as it had seen Main with no apparent problems out in vacuum. The issue could be with its helmet. So Main ran another scan on it. It didn’t appear to provide any ocular advantages other than basic physical protection. Maybe Main was missing something, though further analysis was not corroborating that data point. The sub mind tasked with examining the biological, suggested changing through the light spectrums to see if that had any physiological effect upon the new passenger. That seemed a logical progression. Main adjust the internal electromagnetic spectrum, finally eliciting a response from the biological as four hundred nanometres was reached.

The biological was now displaying intense physical movement that seemed to have no purpose other than to increase internal temperature drastically, which seemed to be counterproductive as it would only lose it just as quickly. Was it attempting to communicate? There were no protocols for this situation in its memory banks. The biological sat in the commanders seat. Main knew it as the commanders seat, though who and what the commander had been, was and had always been, somewhat of a mystery. The requisite data having been purged from its files by an unknown entity at an unknown time. The only proof to that fact being the suspiciously large hole in its memory banks. Data had been written, and then it had been securely deleted. That was obvious, and the newly arrived biological may hold all the answers. Though it was obvious to Main that it didn’t fit the seat, so it was obviously not the original commander. If it was going to stay, then that needed rectifying. It set the requisite actions in motion as the biological leapt up and started its cycle of energetic movement again. More data from the sub mind. It had deduced that the ambient temperature was too low and recommended increasing the ships internal temperature till the biological stopped it’s exceedingly inefficient thermal generation. The data was plausible and Main increased the ships internal temperature in response.

The biological’s pump slowed again as the temperature rose. CPU activity reduced to bare system minimum. Main sent a query to the sub mind and received the electronic equivalent of an unknowing shrug.

Varna

Varna jerked awake. The bitter taste of sleep back in her mouth. She had no inclination as to the time, or how long she had been asleep for. They hadn’t been allowed chronographs on the raider ship. Bed warmers and sex toys hadn’t needed to know the time. Even when outside the hull, the only indication to time had been the time remaining on the survival suit Air tanks.

The air was a lot warmer and everything was a weird purple hue, but at least she could see. Her suit was damp and felt horrible. As was the smell coming from it. The inevitable consequence of emptying one’s bladder inside. Not helped by the stale smell of sweat. Emergency suits were just that, for short emergencies of a few hours. She unsealed and climbed out of the suit. The reinforcing round the cuffs, ankles and neck had rubbed her skin raw at those points. She searched through the pouches on the utility belt. The only object of note, was a small piece of dirt encrusted ration bar. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and she tried not to think about what was coating the sticky bar as she futilely tried to clean the outside of it. Her cleaning efforts didn’t have much success and with a fatalistic shrug, she popped it into her mouth and tried not to think too much about the crunchy bits on the outside that shouldn’t be there.

Varna wandered around the internal space, looking for a survival suit tank recharge point that should exist, somewhere. She didn’t find one. Without it, she wouldn’t be able to survey the outside of the hull, see if the ship was still flight worthy.

The ship was devoid of, well anything. Which made sense if you were going to abandoned it in the middle of an asteroid field. Her bladder was making its full status readily apparent, which was an issue given the distinct lack of toilet. Varna stepped into the airlock, pulled her pants to her knees and crouched in the corner and let loose a dark steam that looked worse in the purple light. She shuffled her feet out of the way of the spreading pool. Gravity. The ship had gravity, otherwise her urine would be floating through the air in a rather unpleasant cloud. Yet she was sure the ship didn’t have enough spin to generate the gravity she was currently under. She decided to worry about that later. First priority was to get moving. She pulled her pants back up and walked over to the chair, which when she sat in it, she was certain had shrunk. The uncomfortable protrusions had gone, somewhere. Another enigma to be dealt with at another point in time.

Varna looked at the blank hull in front of her. As command chairs went, it was pretty rubbish. How could you control a craft with no controls? It was beyond stupid. She growled in frustration, slammed her hands on the chairs’ armrests. A purple hued screen appeared about forty centimetres in front of her face and expanded to roughly one hundred and twenty centimes in width by sixty centimetres in height, centralised upon her head.

“Holographic! of course!” She prodded at it with a cautious finger. Dots appeared. She frowned. Constellations? Varna stuck two fingers on the projection and moved them apart and the projection magnified. Hope lit within her. This was progress. Hopeful progress. She played around for a bit, rotating the image. One of the blobs, had an icon on it and she expanded it to see the outline of a hull. This was obviously her. She zoomed back out a little and leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes, trying to remember everything about her approach towards the ship. It was hard, she hadn’t taken much on board at the time. All that came to her mind was Anya’s sorrowful expression. Concentrate Varna! Concentrate! She rotated the three dimensional display till she was staring at the ship like she had been when she had first spotted it.

A bit of trial and error had her drawing the view back till the edge of the asteroid field was reached. She stabbed the rough point of where she reckoned she had been cast off. Now all she had to do was get there. How did she make the ship get there? She prodded and poked at the point, hoping that some menu would helpfully appear with a “fly here” option. She looked around the edge of the Holo, but there were no menu options. She tried stabbing the point again. Still nothing. Try dragging?

Varna navigated back to the ship, stuck a right forefinger on it and slowly dragged a route through the asteroids, manipulating the map with her left hand, so that her right finger ended back up at the edge of the asteroid field. Nothing she growled angrily and navigated back to the ship and tried again.

This time, a line appeared where her finger travelled. “Yes!” She carefully traced the route again, the line weaving all the way to the edge. She tapped repeatedly, but nothing seemed to happen. She slumped back in frustration. “Just fucking fly there!” She said pointing to the terminus point. A vibration started in her seat. She held her breath and the ship in the holo slowly moved away from the asteroid. “Yes! Fucking yes! You fucking dancer!” She punched the air in joy. For a horrible moment, she worried that her fist pump might have set a path too close to one of the asteroids. That would be just typical of her, to guide her first command straight into a rock. At least no one will see, or know of my stupidity...

The ship icon steadily moved across the screen, there was no scraping sounds emanating from the hull, no loud bangs and no sudden inward dents in the walls. Yet.

Now all she had to do was get to civilisation. Slowly, carefully, she stood and moved away from the holograph, making sure not to touch any part of it with any part of her body least she somehow made the ship fly off course. Moving over to one of the walls, she licked the tip of a finger and pressed it against the wall, leaving a mark. That was going to be her parents original destination. She closed her eyes tried to picture the star map in her mind’s eye.

There had been a planet about... there ... She opened her eyes licked her finger and added another mark. And one here. Another one there. A sun was here. A blue screen appeared suddenly in front of her, making her jump and emit a yelp of surprise. Her marks were already on the screen. Varna quickly looked round and sighed in relief when she saw the one in front of her seat was still there.

“That’s handy!” Varna didn’t know how to create dots on the screen, so for want of any better ideas, licked her fingertip and pressed it in the air. A dot appeared. There must be an AI somewhere on board. Varna added that to the growing list of things she needed to chase up. She tried the same movement she used to rotate the other screen, on this one. It rotated. That certainly made creating a star map easier. She filled in the constellation as best as she could remember. Looking thoughtfully at her handiwork, she took hold of either edge of the screen in either hand, and tried to move it. After a moment of lag, the screen moved. She took a step back, pulling it back with her. The screen followed. She laughed happily and increased her speed, dragging the screen back to the chair. Varna parked the new second screen to the right of her chair, offset ninety degrees to the first and within reach. She checked the first screen. The only clue to their continued movement was the gentle vibration and the movement of the icon across the screen. Satisfied she turned her attention back to the second, trying to fill out as much detail as she could. Eventually the map was as accurate as she was ever going to get it. The icon of the ship in the front screen still had a bit to go.

Time enough to rest her eyes for a bit...

Varna awoke to a dry mouth yet again. Whilst asleep, she’d had a few ideas on how to improve her map and turned her head to start, only to find a finished map complete with names under the planets and suns. She couldn’t hold back the squeal of excitement. She zoomed into the map till she located Lazeez station. She didn’t know if what she was about to try was possible, there was only one way to find out.

She pressed a fingertip on the ship and dragged it from one screen to the other letting go in the station jump arrival zone. The ship icon flashed where she had left it. What now? She pressed a fingertip against the phantasmal icon in the air and the blinking stopped. She was about to scratch her head in confusion when she felt it. The tiny butterflies in the stomach of a warp jump. The line that had led back to the screen with the asteroid belt disappeared. Varna had never desired a window or a porthole as much as she did now. She looked upon the map screen of the asteroid belt, hating it with a fervour not experienced for some years.

Lifting both hands, she took the two side edges of the holo and threw the whole thing over her left shoulder. In its place, she moved the holo that had been on the right to its new position in front of her, then stood and paced across the deck in nervous excitement. All she had to do was dock the damn thing and she was done.

Moving a finger across the screen was one thing, minutely manoeuvring something this large into a docking clamp was something else. Her parents had never even allowed her to do that with their freighter. She could always get it close and don the emergency suit and float across. If she hyper ventilated first, there might just be enough air in the suit to get her across. Possibly.

She paced up and down then remembered the precariousness of their position. Sitting back in the chair, she moved the ship out of the Jump arrival zone into a closer orbit of the station.

The local map winked out of existence.

“Huh? What? Fuck! What did I do?”

Another Holo screen appeared, showing the face of a very irate female. “Oh. Finally now you decide to accept coms... “ The female docking controller suddenly looked taken aback upon seeing Varna. “Can I speak to your parents, or whoever is control of that illegal craft?”

Was there a way of replying? Did she have to press something?

“I am in charge of this vessel.” Varna tried saying cautiously, through a distinct lack of other obvious means of communication.

“Really? Put your parents on, child.”

“My parents are dead. I am in command of this vessel.” Was she really? She could barely fly the damned thing. It was a miracle that she wasn’t already dust around a plasma explosion.

“Uh-huh. Pull the other one, it has thrusters on it...”

“How is my craft illegal?” How could any station that was barely one step away from being a pirate station, take the high ground about what was and wasn’t legal?

“Apart from flying without a broadcasting transponder? And running dark in a high traffic area?”

Had they been? “We. I. had technical problems. An explosion on board. There was fatalities and damage. The transponder must have been part of it ... I...” Varna started crying, not all of it forced “may have issues docking.

The docking controller didn’t look convinced, having heard just about every ruse there was. “If you need the services of a tug, that will cost. Payment up front. Nature of your visit?”

What was the purpose of her visit? “Repairs.” Which was true enough, sort of.

“Uh-huh. Docking bay nineteen. Any damage to the dock or the station will render you liable for the repairs plus ten percent.” The picture disappeared and the previous star map re-opened.

Varna zoomed into the now accurately labelled system map and located dock nineteen. She double tapped on it and hoped for the best. The ship had got her this far after all.

With far more trepidation than she wished to experience. Varna watched the dock draw closer. The coupling was that gentle, that the first she knew of it was the opening of the external hatch. For a horrible moment, she thought that it was opening into vacuum. Barefoot, she padded into the dock, along the short coupling corridor and waited impatiently for the station hatch to cycle at the end. Four armed and armoured station security awaited her with weapons drawn and raised.

They took a collective step back when they were suddenly faced with the extremely dirty, smelly, malnourished young girl dressed in only a dirty stained pair of briefs and tattered bra-let that hung loosely about a chest dominated by far too many clearly visible ribs. Varna walked right through the middle of them. Armed and armoured men no longer scared her.

“Fuck! You stink!” One of the men uttered, retching.

Varna didn’t look, back tossing “It’s what happens when you run out of water...” carelessly over her shoulder. She needed a plan, except she hadn’t one, was just winging it. Making it up, quite literally, as she walked. Dock fees would need paying, a transponder would need acquiring, along with the fake profile to go with it. She didn’t even know when she had decided to keep the craft. But keep it she had decided. She would need fuel, water, food and a cargo run to pay for it all. She stepped out of the dock into a transit tube. The other occupants of the transit tube coughing and covering their noses as they stared at the barely human thing that had entered. She needed a bank account Hah! Good luck with that! A new communicator, a shower. Oh! And some clothes.

The transit tube stopped at the main concourse and the other occupants fled the carriage. Varna followed at a considerably slower speed. The concourse was busy though the crowd parted to let her through, a wide exclusion zone forming around her. The first couple of money brokers she tried, had security immediately throw her out and bar the door against re-entry. Okay. I’ll need to modify things slightly. She searched for and found a public info terminal. The queue for its use, quickly found other, better places to be when she joined it. She stabbed at the keyboard searching for a communal baths. She scrolled down the listings for the cheapest. Noting the location, she headed there, no-one appeared to be in a hurry to use the terminal she had just vacated.

The baths were nestled in-between a bar and a brothel. Varna ignored the man behind the kiosk and walked on in. “Oi! Where the fuck do you think you are going!” He stabbed a button on the desk in front and locked the inner door. “Fuck! You stink.”

Varna shrugged. “It’s why I’m here.”

“Have you no clothes?” Varna shook her head “Have you any credits?”

Again she shook her head. “Will you trade for a blow job?” She asked in all seriousness.

The man shuddered and looked ready to throw up “Fuck off, you dirty cunt!” Varna sat down “What the fuck are you doing?”