The Broken Cage (Solstice 31 Saga Book 2)

The Broken Cage

By Martin Wilsey

This is a work of Fiction. All Characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental.

The Broken Cage

Copyright © 2015 by Martin Wilsey

All rights reserved, including rights to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

Cover Art by Jessica E.

Edited by Helen Burroughs -
[email protected]

ISBN-13: 978-1508439370

ISBN-10: 1508439370

For more information:

Blog: http://wilseymc.blogspot.com/

Web:
http://www.baytirus.com/

Email: [email protected]

The Solstice 31 Saga:

Still Falling
(2015)

The Broken Cage
(2015)

Blood of the Scarecrow
(2016)

For Cady and Gray

Being your dad is the

most favorite thing I am

The Broken Cage

CHAPTER ONE

The
Ventura
is Falling

“We never expected the
Ventura
to be immediately attacked the morning we attained orbit. We only survived because Commander Worthington followed regs.”

--
Solstice 31 Incident Investigation Testimony Transcript: Captain James Worthington, senior surviving member of the Ventura's command crew.

<<<>>>

Lieutenant Myers, the engineering chief, died without knowing that Commander James Worthington's strict adherence to regulations would have saved him. He hit the ceiling on the bridge of the pinnace, the
Memphis
, so hard his skull was crushed and his neck was instantly broken. The other six members of the command crew were all strapped into five-point harnesses. The first wave of fragments from the nuclear explosion that destroyed the
Ventura
only took seven seconds to reach them. The larger wreckage took a bit longer and was far worse.

“Cook, get us out of here!” Commander Worthington barked at the pilot.

Worthington would not realize until later that his collarbone was broken. Lieutenant Richard Cook was already moving. The main engines were only able to fire at full power for a few seconds before the debris struck the pinnace at an extremely high velocity. It ripped through the center and port-side engine bells, penetrating all the way to engineering.

The pinnace’s main reactors automatically went off-line, along with most of the primary systems.

The
Memphis
went into an end-over-end tumble as it was thrown farther out into space. Still, it was pelted with fragments.

The bridge went black and then the emergency lights came up, along with several audible alarms from the various systems that were now off-line.

“Inertial dampeners and artificial gravity are off-line! We have major hull breaches on decks three through five, including main engineering.” Matt Tyrrell, the communications officer, spoke quickly and professionally for so much going on.

“No shit, Matt,” Cook yelled to Tyrrell.

Myers' body crashed into the back of Cook's seat, as it slammed around the cabin unsecured. Blood flew everywhere.

“Damage report,” Worthington called out.

“Comms down,” Tyrrell called.

“All navigation off-line. Computers down,” Karen Beary replied.

“Tactical on emergency power. Sensor array only shows thirty percent responding,” chimed Peter Muir from Worthington's right.

“I've got nothing, sir,” Security Chief Valerie Hume reported.

As Myers slammed like a pinball into her console, Hume bear-hugged the dead body to keep it from hurting anyone as it crashed about in zero gravity. She was petite but very strong.

“What do we have?” Worthington asked, as he tried to get his own systems to respond.

“Main engines are down with all secondaries down as well. Grav-foils are off-line. No power. All that’s left is manual thrusters. Trying to stabilize now,” Cook said.

“Nav’s got nothing,” Beary called.

“Trying to switch visual to emergency power and Personal HUD feeds,” Peter Muir called.

“AI is down,” Worthington reported.

“I have proximity HUD comms, Commander. I’m putting everyone on broadcast.”

The entire crew of the
Memphis
had Deep Brain Implant Personal High-Definition Heads-Up Display and Communications Systems. It allowed them to access audio and video via their own eyes and ears.

Suddenly, the entire bridge crew heard screams via their internal HUDs. The display showed them it was Ensign Jennings. The feed lasted only a few seconds and then went silent.

“This is Worthington. Ship comms are down. Emergency Personal HUD comms have been initiated. If you are outside the bridge, crew sound off,” the commander said, as he restored emergency power to his console and it booted up.

“Weston here. Dock Bay. Everyone not strapped in is dead, sir. I was strapped in, but I think my shoulder is dislocated.”

“Same in medical. All three of us were strapped in, Jim. But, Duncan and Sarah are unconscious,” Dr. Shaw announced, as she dodged a medical bag that had not been secured.

“Commander, Elkin here.” She broke into a series of coughs. “Everyone in here is gone, Jim. There’s a massive breach all the way into main engineering and…and all the compartments aft of the reactor control room. There’s an electrical fire in here, somewhere. The control room is filling with smoke. I need to get out.”

Cook got the tumble under control.

“Elkin…Trish.” He used her first name for the first time. “We need power. Fast.”

“Yes. Sir.” She muted her mic.

“Commander. This is Dr. Angie Bowen. What the fuck are you doing?” she scolded.

“There are four of us from the lunar survey team in the forward command briefing room. All have minor injuries. It's full dark in here. We’re all strapped in. Your blind following of regulations seems to have been—” Worthington cut her off.

When the hell did fastening your seat belts become blind following of regs?

“Stay there, Bowen,” Worthington replied. Comms muted her mic.

Worthington saw in his command HUD all the icons of the people that were supposed to be onboard. More than half were red, no vital signs present.

Suddenly, consoles came to life all over the bridge.

“Bless you, Lieutenant Elkin,” Jim said, under his breath, as the command consoles lit.

“Sensors are coming up. OH, SHIT!” Muir called out, as he saw it.

They were going to crash into the moon.

Cook didn't wait for orders. He rolled the ship and engaged all the landing thrusters to arrest their descent into the surface. Without inertial dampening, they were all jacked around and then jammed into their seats at about 4Gs.

Suddenly, all the blood floating in the cabin fell to the floor.

The
Memphis
pitched up on the starboard side. “Some of the aft thrusters are damaged.” He made corrections by feel.

“Impact in twenty-five seconds,” Beary said, professionally.

“Grav-plating power restored,” Elkin gasped over the HUD.

“Cook. Foils. Now!” Worthington shouted to Cook, who had already deployed them.

Hume prepared for this by tucking Myers' body beneath her legs. When the gravity returned on the command deck, they heard a great, roaring groan coming from the infrastructure.

“Impact in eight, seven, six...Descent stopped. We are hovering 112 meters from the surface.” Muir breathed a sigh.

“Commander.” It was Elkin, gasping again on the comms. “This reactor will breach if I don't shut her down in less than a minute. The core of reactor number two has already been jettisoned. Number three is dark.” She fell into a more severe coughing fit.

“Cook!” Worthington called.

“Landing sequence initiated. The AI is off-line. Going manual.”

“Jesus, RC. You ever land a pinnace on manual?” Beary called out.

“First time for everything...” Cook said, concentrating.

Cook had a specialized pilot interface within his HUD. Using it, he rapidly found a site and set her down faster than he liked, but he'd take it. It hit hard, but the landing struts held.

“We're down.”

“Elkin, shut down the reactor!” Jim ordered.

There was no reply.

All the lights went out. Again.

***

The HUD comms went down with the reactor. However, Tyrrell had a special comms package in his HUD that allowed everyone to talk to him.

Everyone was injured in some way. Most of the injuries were sustained during the initial shockwave of debris. Even with inertial dampeners on, the impact was heavy. There were hull breaches all over the ship, but the fact that the section hatches were secured as part of Worthington's by-the-book procedures saved them, again, just as the belts saved them, initially.

It took them almost twenty minutes to find a route to get to Elkin. She was unconscious but alive.

“I think she put out the fire, sir, and then exposed the compartment to the vacuum of space for a few milliseconds to evacuate the smoke. Out the forward hatch that opens into engineering,” Hume said, as Jim and Peter lifted Elkin to take her to the infirmary.

“The gravity feels like less than .2G, Jimbo,” Peter said.

Hume said, “Jim, we need her bad. All the goddamn engineers are dead, except for her and Ensign Weston. And he is trapped, for now, in the dock bay. No offense, but I know more about goddamned reactors than he does.”

“Tyrrell says that Dr. Shaw has a med bay up on stand-alone emergency power.”

Worthington rounded a corner, moving fast toward the infirmary when his way was blocked by Dr. Bowen and the other members of her survey team.

“Move it,” Worthington barked. The three he didn't know, immediately, pressed against the wall; but, Bowen held her arms wide to stop them as she spoke.

“What have you done, you Neanderthal?” Bowen said to Commander Worthington.

Hume was there first, drawing her sidearm and pointing it at Bowen's face. “Clear this corridor. NOW!”

Hume, who was experienced in lower than normal gravity security tactics, didn't slow as the group moved toward the infirmary, and didn't wait for Bowen to move. Dr. Bowen found herself knocked off her feet, and sliding on her ass, for ten meters, into a side corridor.

Lights were brighter in the med unit. They ran on batteries in there, all the time, for a reason Jimbo couldn't remember right now.

Another explosion rocked the ship, and tossed them into the infirmary and onto the floor.

“What the hell was that?!” Hume called out. Tyrrell replied to everyone.

“Large wreckage is impacting on the surface of the moon, all around us.” Tyrrell's response was punctuated by more explosions that didn't rock the ship.

“Commander. This is Dr. Ibenez. I have a portable scanner, and it shows we have a shit-storm of shrapnel coming this way! The
Ventura
is gone. In pieces.”

As they lay her down onto the med bay unit, Lieutenant Trish Elkin was recognized by the autoDoc.

Jim looked at Dr. Shaw, “Beth, we need her awake. Now. We need to get that reactor back online, fast. Or, we’re all dead.”

She looked from Jim to Elkin for a brief instant, and then entered a code into the small, side panel. A voice sounded, “Warning: You have activated emergency med protocol eleven. Command staff approval is required.”

“Confirm. Worthington, 47748394559,” Jim said.

Instantly, arms deployed from within the autoDoc to forcibly restrain Elkin. The side panels closed, and a scanner bar passed over her that was far too bright to look at directly. Three more arms deployed and took hold of her head. Another arm opened her mouth, while yet another slipped a large tube down her throat.

Her eyes fluttered open. A look of panic came over her. “I'm sorry, Trish. Don't panic. It’ll be alright,” the doctor said, as she watched.

Trish tried to struggle. She even attempted to scream, but the sound could not get past the tube. She felt the nanites fill her lungs and get injected into her neck by so many cruel little arms. She felt their chill as they spread to her brain.

When all the tubes and arms suddenly retracted, Elkin had to take a deep breath to scream. This drew the nanites in further.

When she finally screamed, a white fog emitted from her mouth and nose.

A med tech Jimbo didn't know walked up and handed him an oxygen mask and a small tank. “She'll need this today. Don't let her scratch her eyes.”

The autoDoc opened and retracted until Elkin sat upright, eyes wide, panting. “What the hell?” she gasped.

“You have severe lung damage, from smoke inhalation, and deep burns. You’ve been injected with so many nanites, stims, and other drugs, you probably won't sleep for a week. If we live that long,” Worthington said, close to her ear.

An even bigger explosion rocked the ship, bigger than the last one.

Jimbo held her face with both hands as he spoke, quietly but firmly, “Elkin, we need to move the ship out of harm’s way.” Another impact, on the hull this time. “I need sensors and grav-foils, enough to move the ship to the far side of this moon. You’re all I have.” He released her as she nodded and placed the mask over her nose.

“I'm headed to the bridge,” Cook said, and loped away in the lower gravity.

“Holy shit, doc.” Trish looked at Dr. Shaw, wide-eyed. “That really hurts. I LIKE IT!” She jumped off the autoDoc and headed for reactor control. Worthington followed.

“Not for long...” Beth said.

“Make her take O
2
every couple of minutes,” she called after them.

***

It turned out to be easier to bring reactor number three back up than to even begin to troubleshoot number one. The core on number two had been damaged, and ejected; so, they quickly rerouted the cooling conduits to number three. Elkin had number three up to thirty percent in less than eleven minutes.