A short story about FTL space travel, battles in space and, apparently, power tools. Copyright Terry Cornall 2022
"Scans, what are those things they fired at us? Look too big to be missiles or torps. Are they assault craft? Accelerating awfully fast. But then, we don't know what their compensators are like." Captain Mjolnir looked up from his tactical screens to talk to the officer in charge of sensors and instrumentation, then he turned to the helmsman and said "Helm, get us up to top emergency speed now. Away from those things."
"Aye sir," answered the helmsman. "Redlining it now sir, opposite vector to the bogies." The ship bucked as emergency acceleration glitched the compensators momentarily.
"Torps, I think, sir, from the signatures," responded Lieutenant Walls, in charge of sensors. "Big suckers. Two of them, closing fast." She glanced at him with a worried look.
"Find us a discontinuity, Scans, they're are getting very close, very fast, whatever they are," the captain shouted urgently across the bridge, trying to stay calm.
"Aye sir," answered Lieutenant Walls, reading her instruments at they searched out the ripples and irregularities in space-time that indicated a jumpspace fissure. "Got a sniff of some roughness in the metric now, sir. Heading change forty three up and seventy two left. "
There was a jolt as the ship turned rapidly.
"Helm!" shouted the captain, then glared at the helmsman
"Sorry sir, I pre-empted. Won't happen again, sir," shouted spaceman first class Sevens.
"Forgiven, spaceman, just this once. For the record, continue on that course, fast as she'll go."
"Sir," answered Sevens with a nervous grin. The XO gave him a dirty look. He realised that if they survived this, Commander Jeffry was going to have words. Sevens shrugged, he'd be pleased to have words with her if it meant not getting blown up.
"Guns? Can we kill them?"
"Too agile for our missiles and kinetic point defenses, too big for lasers, sir, plus they are spinning so we can't burn through anywhere. Trying like heck though, but I doubt we'll have time. Sand might slow them. Deploying now. Chaff and decoys away too." He paused. "No effect sir, sorry. Sand just made 'em shiny and they ignored everything else."
"Signals? Any incoming? Or any chance our warcoms can get into them? Jam their active sensors?"
"No, sir. Not a peep out of them. Whatever their tracking us with appears to be passive. I've blasted them with every code, protocol and modality we've got. No response. Tried everything except registered mail, sir."
"Scans?" prompted the captain worriedly eying his tactical screen again. The torpedoes were almost on them. The screens wouldn't stop it all, not with two of those big bastards, assuming a heavy payload.
"Nearly there, nearly there, sir. The metric is puckering..."
Not the only thing puckering thought Helmsman Sevens wryly as he mentally urged more speed out of the already red-lined engines.
"Now, sir," Walls shouted. "Go now!" She grinned. "We gonna make it!" Once into the jump, they should be free of danger. Torpedoes didn't carry jumpdrives.
"Jumps, do it! " The captain shouted and then pressed the announcer and said in a calm voice that he really didn't feel, "All hands, jump and impact drills. Now!" He closed his own helmet as did all on the bridge.
"Why is he shouting about exercise and power tools, Sam? whispered the ambassador to her liaison officer through their touching helmets as he leaned over and checked her seals and safety webbing again. They'd been on the bridge on a courtesy visit, preparatory to meeting the new contactees, when the unpleasantness had broken out. Fortunately she was wearing her shipsuit which acted as an emergency vacuum-suit.. Really though, people weren't supposed to shoot at ambassadors, but maybe these barbarians didn't know that. She would politely correct that misapprehension, given the chance.
"No ma'am, impact drill means stay away from rigid structures that will transmit shock. Kinda the opposite of 'brace' since we had so much trauma last... "
The universe turned inside out, there was an intense flash, a huge thump and things all went to hell very rapidly. Getting blown up halfway through a jump will do that, thought Sevens before he blacked out. The last thing he heard was Lieutenant Sally Walls wailing, "They followed us in! Nobody does that!"
.....
When he gained consciousness, Sevens quickly realised that he was in a bit of a predicament. No stars. Pressure readout didn't show vacuum. Maybe it was malfunctioning, simple though it was. Nothing on radio, not even static, no up nor down, though he was used to that. Understanding finally dawned, with a chilly effect. Floating in jumpspace without a spacecraft wrapped safely around you was an uncommon pastime. In fact as far as he knew, it was unique.
Probably because nobody came back to talk about it, he thought to himself. He checked his oxygen and power reserves, automatically. Not even sure if the readings were relevant at the moment, physics being what it currently might be, but he realised that if he were going to stay alive and thinking, he'd probably need to trust them. Definitely he'd need oxygen, though power use for heating hovered close to nil. Apparently jumpspace was balmy. Who knew?
Wonder if there's air out there? Can't see why there would be though. Certainly wasn't going to take his helmet off in the cause of scientific curiosity to find out what happened, that was for sure.
"Wish I'd taken those courses now," he muttered to himself. "Be nice to know what to expect in this place, though maybe nobody knows." He brightened briefly. "Still, not dead yet!"
Is that you Sevens? he heard, not over his radio. Not actually heard, either. More like just knew it. Sevens wondered briefly if jumpace induced insanity before it killed you.
"Sally?" he said tentatively, afraid that this was a mental phantom. "Where are you?"
Wrong question Sevens. There is no 'where' in this place. A pause. In fact there isn't supposed to be a place in this place. Transition is supposed to be instantaneous. Jumpspace is just a convenient myth. Another pause. Well, used to be. Gonna get me a PhD in Physics out of writing this up, if we survive the weird physics it must have. Seems unlikely though.
You seem awfully calm, Lieutenant, Sevens projected, not bothering to actually speak. Like using subvoc gear. Surface thoughts. Wonder if that'll work, he thought.
Yep, got that, came the answer. And no point panicking, though if I thought it'd do any good, I'd be screaming now.
Huh, telepathy, thought Sevens.
Yep, and maybe a PhD in Neuroscience as well, thought Sally back at him.
How many degrees would that make it, Sally?
Got five now, if you count the Astronav Masters, she responded offhandedly. Two more on the wall would be nice.
Is that why you are always too busy to go out to dinner with me? he asked. Studying?
No, I just don't like you, Sevens, she came back. A hint of humour crept in along with the 'words', taking their sting away. He grinned to himself.
How are we still alive if we are in jumpspace and the physics is so weird here? thought Severns.
You've heard of the Misanthropic Principle? asked Sally
Sure, how if physics wasn't friendly to life we wouldn't be here to complain about it? And isn't it called the Anthropic Principle?
Well, my physics tutor taught me about it and ze was a grumpy old alien who hated humans for inventing quantum physics before ze did, so I renamed it to Misanthropic. Sally sent Severns a mental image of a curmudgeonly old codger with blue skin and tentacles dressed in tweeds and they shared a mental giggle.
When you two are done flirting, Lieutenant, came the captain's thoughts. Can you shed any more light on our situation?
Yes, sir, glad to hear you are with us, sir, Sally thought back. Current thoughts involve capture by entities with unknown intent, possibly benign, probably not, who are holding us in some form of suspended animation whilst they put our mangled bodies back together again. Keeping us conscious so they can study us. Our space suits are a virtual projection to keep us calm, sir, and this artificial telepathy is to avoid complete sensory deprivation insanity. Sir.
Star Trek Multiverse, season three, episode nineteen, I believe? The thoughts were dryly amused.
Correct, sir. Slight embarrassment. Required material for the Contacts course sir. Degree number three.
I know, I designed the course, Lieutenant.
Sir. A pause. Do you think that's it, sir? Aliens lurking in jumpspace?
No, Lieutenant, I do not, Captain Mjolnir replied. A wry humour in his thoughts. A dull green ball of light suddenly appeared and floated towards her like some alien floaty eyeball. That isn't an alien floaty eyeball, by the way, just an old-fashioned chemical light that I have tossed towards you. The thought calmed her incipient panic. And embarrassed her.
Damn, sir, it's like you are reading my.... oh. And you shutup Sevens.
Sevens stifled his giggles. So, the power's out, even emergency, we are dead in space and no grav, but we are still in the ship? And there's air and warmth? And we've all become spontaneously telepathic?
For the moment, yes to all that. You can open your helmets. Make your way over here. A red glow-stick cracked and glowed. The sound of a helmet seal being released and then a voice, a real one, but with the strange telepathy wrapped around it, leading by half a second, making a wierd echo. " WWee hhaavvee aann iinnttrruuddeerr oonn tthhee bbrriiddggee." A pause, then, "SSttoopp tthhaatt pplleeaassee."
"Sorry Captain," came a meek voice. "She can't help it sometimes when she's scared. Stuck in repeater mode, I'm afraid. Defensive behaviour for her kind," the ambassador apologised. "There, Epsi, it's all right. Captain's got it under control," she soothed her telepathic mooncat.
"I'm sure there's regulations against pets on the bridge in time of battle," mused the XO threateningly as she pushed off a wall and expertly coasted towards the captain's red beacon. Her own yellow one glowing, affixed to a handy spot on her suit's webbing.
"Must have snuck into my pocket whilst I wasn't looking," tried the ambassador unconvincingly, petting the shivering creature, which looked like a tiny blue hairless cat.
"Uhuh. Anyone got any ideas why all the electronics are out?" asked the captain. "Harkins, is this a jumpspace thing?"
"Yes sir," answered the officer in charge of jumpspace controls for the shift, Science Specialist Commander Harkins. "Used to be that part of the prep for a jump was to shut down everything that relied on room temp superconductors. Theory said that something about the way magnetism works during a jump would cause them to fail. We don't bother anymore because it up until now it was all over in less than measurable time."
"And everything uses RTSC, right?"
"Pretty much," the science officer waved his glow stick. "Except this, and ourselves. And the mooncat. And some mechanical systems like manual cranks for doors. Maybe some power tools, if we bypass their battery safety electronics. Suit heaters are probably fritzed, but air pressure systems should be ok though."
"Great. Where's damage control? Deck? You with us?"
"Sir," came a groggy response and a blue glow slowly made it's way to join the cluster around the captain's red one. They began to be able to see each other in the dim multi-hued lights and Mjolnir did a quick head count. All here, plus a mooncat. No-one seriously damaged. Good.
"No idea what's damage we took sir, instruments and internal comms are all dead," Lieutenant Brooks , Officer Of the Deck said grimly.
"Best guess, Deck?"
"Based on that single bang as we went to jump, I'd say we dodged one of the torps and the shields would have stopped a lot of that one that did get us." Brooks paused for thought. "No way to say what are the mitigating or amplifying effect of getting pinged whilst in a jump transition, for sure, but we are all apparently unharmed even though we got shook up good. That's promising, sir. That bang was a bit feeble for a torp that size, maybe jumpspace throttled it. Feels to me like shockwaves were less than might be expected, too."
"Broke me out of my chair though," pointed out the captain.
"Designed that way, sir," explained Brooks. "No point you being held in your straps if you are hamburger, sir, to be blunt. Chair'll do the best it can up to survivability and then the crashgel would take over. Except it didn't."
"Good, I hate that stuff," shuddered the ambassador. "Can never get it out of my hair afterwards."
"You are supposed to keep your suit sealed, ma'am, if crashgel gets deployed," reminded her liaison offers, Sam Wells. "You can breath through it, but it's no fun."
"Yes, well, we can worry about our coiffures later, please," interjected the captain. "Brooks, see if you can get an idea of the damage. Harkins, you and Walls get to Engineering and help Chief Stewarts to see if you can get the jump engines up again." He forestalled the Science Officer's objections. "Work something out! Strip out the RTSC and replace it with transistors, or make valves if you have to! Take Sevens with you, send him back with an update as soon as possible. Ambassador, you and Epsi stay put, we have to have a talk. XO, round up the rest of bridge and work with Brooks to get any injured to medbay, or medics to the injured. Find the rest of the glow sticks and spread 'em around. Send me reports when you can."
The captain glared around in the garish light. "Keep your suits ready to seal. Check pressures before opening any doors if you can. The gauges should work, they're mechanical." He looked to Harkins for confirmation and got a confident nod. "Don't force anything. Pressure differentials will lock the doors even if you are opening them by hand." His eyes took on a haunted look. "This might be the worst day of the rest of your lives, people, however long that might be. It will be hard, but anyone in vacuum on the other side will have to wait until we can get emergency portable airlocks working. We've all practised the drill, so let's make it happen for real. Git." They got.
He turned to the nervous ambassador. "Ambassador Riley," he began.
"Now, Captain, I am really sorry about Epsi but," she started.
"Don't be. That critter might be useful after all, even as ugly as it is," he calmed her and offended her at the same time. "How far can it project? Can we use it to communicate with Engineering or the rest of the crew. Get me some damage reports? Find out who's hurt?"
"She is quite powerful," the ambassador emphasised the pronoun, letting the 'ugly' comment slide. Epsi had a wonderful personality and that was enough. "If she's in a quite place and feels like she is in good company and wants to please them."
The captain mused sourly. "Huh, then I'd better leave it to you and Sam to see if you can cajole her into getting in touch with Chief Stewarts to see what's happening back there. They probably took the brunt of the explosion and if the jumpdrive is gone, then we are stuck here, wherever here is." He ran a hand through his hair. "I don't want to scare you, but with all the electronics on the fritz, I'm not sure we can get the drive back up. I'm just hoping Science and Engineering can come up with some miracle, and some fast comms courtesy of your friend there would help a lot. Use my ready room, for somewhere quiet."
"I think we can do something to help, Captain Mjolnir," the ambassador grinned. "Epsi isn't really just a pet or a friend, you know. She's quite skilled at facilitating communications, covertly and otherwise. Diplomacy is so much easier if you know what everyone else at the table is thinking. Especially if they don't know that you know, y'know?" She turned to Sam and pushed off towards the ready room. "We'll let you know when we've made contact. It shouldn't take very long."
In fact, in almost no time at all, Ambassador Riley poked her head back out the door and shouted, "Captain! Not exactly sure what it means but Chief Engineer Stewart says, Get out of my head, woman, we've got a UXB stuck up our arse!"
ideas for going forward
Techs discover that the power screwdrivers don't work because the Room Temp SuperConductor safety circuits in the power-supplies refuse to work but that the power-cells themselves work fine. They start to modify the tools to cut out the safeties but one tech discovers that his drill suddenly starts to work when he accidentally turns the motor over by hand. A bit of fiddling and they work out that a rotating magnetic field as caused by the simple motors will somehow revive the RTSC. In turn, this means that simply running a power-tool (like an impact drill) near the electronics in the jump engines will allow them to start up. Could complicate it a lot by making them work out a bunch of things they have to do, like holding the tool in a particular orientation and position, somewhat like someone getting better reception by changing antenna orientation.
Can complicate it by the fact that the missile has a jump engine as well, of a different technology. This might explain why they stopped in jumpspace. And possibly the 'missile' is 'manned' (Kamikaze or small assault craft?) Resolve this without violence, aided by Epsi. Have the intruder help them somehow. Maybe with combined jump engines? Intruder could be a press-ganged 'volunteer' easily turned to their side or an ideologically blinded warrior-type that has to be strenuously convinced that their superiors have mislead them.
Whilst in jumpspace, have them look out the window. See amazing stuff never-before beheld etc etc.
Introduce the 'Misanthropic Principle' which is really the 'Anthropic Principle' but espoused by a grumpy old man, to explain how jumpspace physics is so close to ours except for the RTSC snafu and maybe some other non-fatal ones, plus the shortened space dimensions that allow jumps, of course.
Have to introduce some other anomalous physics as well. Pick something amusing but non-fatal. Or maybe slowly fatal to add an edge of tension. Like metabolism isn't working and people are running down and falling into comas. Perhaps something to do with time and space that 'explains' how jumpspace transitions allow spacecraft to jump point to point in 'normal' space. Like, parallel trajectories intersect or something non-Euclidian. Or that the time-like distance is vastly different from the space-like. Or there's two time-like and two space-like axes. Something kinda graspable.
When they do manage to emerge, have them a very long way from home. Like halfway across known space...