Offline Systems

The piece below is a Military SF/Space Opera short story, with some names recycled from my untitled first chapter uploaded in this blog post. You may also notice that this is set in the same universe as the previous (the Daros Collective, a utopian universe similar to Iain M. Banks' "the Culture.") The piece may be integrated into the space opera novel later down the line, but so far it serves as the first part to a short story called "On A Glorious Stellar Breeze." Without further delay, here is Part 1:

Offline Systems

Our warship shook violently with metallic clangs as status indicators flashed on and off erratically from the last missile strike.

Lieutenant Hendrick shouted above the rattling with a strain,

“Starboard’s in a bad way Sir! We can’t hold them off for much longer.” His hair dripped beads of sweat that ran in rivulets under his Flightsuit. I ran to the centre of the bridge, smoke curling through vents as part of the ship died away on my control map, first glowing red, then greying out.

“Shit!” I smacked the metal table with a dull thud, “We just lost them Hendrick.” I spoke in hurried stammers to the rest of the crew via Network:

“Keep them at bay! Portside Defences Alpha, Beta and Delta engage targets of opportunity! All non-combatant units commence rescue operations for Starboard Section A; bring them to Evac. Bunker Two! I can’t-“ A deafening blast erupted from someplace; my voice was drowned out: “Communications with Starboard are down. I repeat, Starboard communications are down!” I spat the sentence out before I could be interrupted again.

More volleys struck us in quick succession; the world shimmered in my eyes. The ship groaned like a large metal door and shook uncontrollably as officers were thrown to their feet in panicked cries, inaudible over the ship’s scream of agony.

Hendrick grabbed the support rail, “Damage report!” he shouted to the other officers.

“We’ve lost the whole Starboard sir; it’s gone!” A young officer, barely into his mid-twenties stared horrified at the holoscreen as he read his status updates.

“Shit!” I thumped the desk again.

“What should we do?” He shouted over to me, everyone followed his gaze. I took a deep breath, my bones rattling still long after the last strike had subsided:

“Get everybody off while we still can!” Another missile, I hit my head, I was dazed.

“What the hell was that?” I shouted, getting back to my feet, soothing the bruise.

“Strike on Portside Section C. But there should be enough evacuation chambers left for the whole ship though, or what’s left of it.” The same officer sounded ecstatic now, but knew that what was left was very little at this point.

I activated the Network again, hoping my message reached everybody, but I knew in the darkest recesses of my mind that there was a good chance that it wouldn’t; we lost too many that day:

I spat the command out, anguished, “All fleet members on-board Olympus, make your way to the nearest Evacuation Points, set target for Level 3 of the Eros Elliptical.”

Hendrick muttered something under his breath as he turned away to tend to his subordinates, but I couldn’t hear what it was. We gathered up and ran from the bridge, falling deeper into the more concealed areas of the labyrinth that was my ship, the Eros flagship Olympus.

The black smoke grew thick around us as we passed through ravaged corridors and ran urgently like a pack of wild animals, shaken every few seconds as the battering continued. I could imagine the depth of space around us as a tang of burnt metal filled the air and cries of despondency erupted everywhere, people in uniform running frightened for any last means of solace as the last of our weapons systems were either finally abandoned in lost hope, or were knocked offline by the continuing barrage of strikes from the Light Crawlers. A beam-leister ripped through the level above us as people screamed, the metal lining the corridor above wobbled like jelly, melted from the heat. I imagined steam cascading from the molten substance as I prayed that the rest of the crew had heard my last command, but knowing that I would never know; that was what really pissed me off. If anyone was up there, they’d be vaporized by now, (I kept telling myself that;) the harsh realities of war bit into me as I rushed, staggered and stumbled, all the while hoping that any escape pods remaining weren’t damaged or lost; we weren’t going to lose anymore, I was determined. I lead the way as Hendrick displayed a calm demeanour alongside me, his eyes constantly looking to the floor as we made our way to the kilometre-thick security-door at the end of a blackened hall, the smoke now obscuring our sight. We resorted to infrared vision, turning the world bloody and bleak.

I swiped a hand over the lock as it clicked open, the air lock depressurizing like a sight of relief, which I mimicked, my fear subsiding slightly. No commander wants to be faced with the burden of knowing that you cost people their lives needlessly. But we weren’t in absolute defeat today, for I knew we’d snatch back victory, the slow closing of the tall door like a great canyon of metal, impervious to all threats and in such a moment my stone face offered a thin smile and the sounds of destruction faded. The indeterminably long row of escape pods stretched out for miles, sitting like small metal ball-bearings with a large window that would slide over the front and airlock immediately, activating a supply of oxygen and other necessities as it sent its occupant into a stasis as it travelled towards a habitable environment, whereupon the passenger would be awoken again, and ejected soon after. We were still thousands of kilometres away from the Elliptical; I pointed to the young officer I’d spoken to earlier. He seemed rather shocked to still be alive as he saluted comradely, his spine stiff and his fingers locked above his brow with precision and discipline:

“How far out from the third level are we? We can’t let them land.”

The young man checked his status watch and replied in no more than 3 seconds eagerly:

“Approximately 24,597 kilometres Sir. We should be able to land on Plain 97 of Level 3 with ease. The Interstellar Artillery will be only ten miles away from where we would be expected to land.” His face lit up but was shaken constantly as the roar of war seeped through the thickened walls of the evacuation bunker.

I replied immediately, braving the shakes, “Yes, Officer, I know. I plan on us using them once we arrive.”

“Using them?” Hendrick overheard, his face disbelieving.

I pivoted and stared, hard-eyed, “Yes, we need to stop them landing here or they’ll take the 97^th plain from us Hendrick. I won’t stand by and watch the Eros Elliptical be annihilated beyond repair.” I turned away again and muttered: “There’s billions of sentients here Hendrick and I’ll defend them to the death.” A groan of metal yawned again as the very foundations of the sentinel walls buckled under pressure. Officers stared in horror.

The disarrayed ship shuddered and bumped and buckled like a mere tin can while everyone piled into escape pods frantically, priming them to be shot off at unfathomable speeds, some having left several minutes ago, no doubt. The floor of the trench over which they sat lay open to the void of space, the blackness frighteningly calm when you saw it stare at you; that nothingness, that depth of zero. The mesosphere of the elliptical’s stacked rings glowed out of vision, a cyan aura radiant, like rings of dry ice against an unlit coal fire surrounding the star in precise distances, the centrifugal force of the centre ring channelled up and down to the others by a layer of invisible matter stacked inside of the structure and enclosing the Eros star.

Hendrick got into one of the pods, the one next to him I marked as my own internally. Before I left I hesitated and said to the ship solemnly:

“Olympus, you’ve served me well over the last five years but you’re too badly damaged to continue.”

She (her sentient AI) piped up invisibly, “I’m well aware of that Sir: my propulsion units are all offline as are all offensive capabilities, the Network is down both internally and externally, and the Starboard has all but been destroyed at this point.”

“Yes, but I want to ask you a final favour: Can you self-destruct your Power-HUB? I want to ensure that as many enemy ships die as possible. We need time.” The words pained me as they passed my lips.

She paused then replied, a lag in the failing system, “Yes, of course Commander. I’d like nothing more than to die in your and your crew’s honour. And there are numerous targeted opportunities in range you’ll be glad to know, so my sacrifice will not be in vain I assure you. You must prevent the invasion of the militarised plain, the star must not go nova and I am sure that you will do your duty Commander. Good luck Sir.”

I looked to the ceiling and said in my most gracious voice, “Thank you.”

If I could have seen a face to match her voice, I was sure it would have looked happy, overjoyed even at dying as she did. But the ship herself continued to blow apart as I spoke, the portside also nearly destroyed by that point, the echoes of battle growing nearer as steam cascaded and filled the chamber from a splintered wall into the bunker, corridors razed and floors dusted with debris.

Before I left the ship spoke once more, “Before you go Sir, I have a final request.”

“Anything you want.” I smiled towards the ceiling, itching to get off the wreckage.

“Will you tell Intel. Corps that I fully enjoyed serving with them, upon your glorious return?”

“I would like nothing more Olympus; I’ll ensure that you are treated with the utmost respect by our comrades in Intel. Corps, and I am sure that they would be delighted to honour your sacrifice, in the utmost enthusiasm.”

“Thank you again Sir, I’ve enjoyed serving under you.”

“As have I Olympus, as have I.” The ship seemed to sigh in satisfaction, which I enjoyed hearing; it was the last we spoke before she blew as I made for my escape pod.

The ship was now rattling and whining as alarms started whirring horribly; a new, ugly voice called out an emergency warning to evacuate immediately as the emergency light strips activated, glowing yellow against the red deck in my vision. I was one of the last to leave, the pod glowing blue from within the cockpit as I felt my eyes begin to fall in a drunken descent after the hatch closed, the pod’s mechanisms sending me into a dreamless sleep as the airlocks sealed, breathing in and holding the air hostage for the next few days. The pod was spat from the floating wreckage of Olympus, the AI doubtless sending out its last communication that would be at the end of its file on the Intel. Corps database: Death by self-induced core-overload in 2797 SE: Eros System; Commander Ritzen, Command.

As our fleet of escape pods travelled peacefully yet speedily towards the gargantuan elliptical, I dreamt of the ship’s destruction above and the havoc it no doubt created for our enemy, the blinding punch of light from the overload to be seen unknown amounts of time after on some distant world I thought, possibly long after my own life had ended, like a star gone supernova. We survived in our thousands thanks to Olympus, and I’m still grateful to this day. But the hardship for us didn’t end there. We realised our biggest fears on the forest-laden surface of the third level, the nameless plain marked simply as a military outpost that glowed somewhere in the maze of matter beneath us, testament to our long stalemate of a war; a war that in the end outlived all of us and it is here that I will ask you:

Don’t they all?

I hope that you enjoyed this piece and please let me know if you liked/ didn't like it; I always welcome constructive criticism. If you want to suggest any improvements or things that you'd like to see in the future, please do get in touch. Before I end this post I'd like to say thanks for reading and sorry I haven't uploaded any creative stuff in a little while, I've been busy, but I hope that you've enjoyed my Carat Media blog posts in such an absence, if you've been reading them. Have a nice day!

*UPDATE (23/02/2014)

Thought I'd update this story so please, tell me what you think.
Thanks!