"It would be better if we returned to Atlantis and asked Chaya for advice," Kirik said, swallowing a lump that had risen to his throat.
The former fugitive peered into the endless void and glanced fearfully at the disfigured bow of "Aurora."
"I completely agree," I supported him. "We are strong and brave, not 'heels' at all. We will ask for help from a fragile and modest girl for every problem."
Who is older than the entire human race.
Kirik carefully turned to me, trying not to touch anything unnecessarily on his light spacesuit.
"Better a little shame than death by suffocation."
Through the visor of his spacesuit, I could see how his face was sweating. And yet, the suit has a climate control system. It's amazing how productive the human body is, to have overcome the limits of sophisticated electronics!
I cautiously, carefully clinging to the edges of the airlock, looked out. The proximity of the terrifyingly destructive "Aurora" did not add any optimism at all. I understand why Kirik doesn't think my plan is a good idea. Of course! Who would dare to go there where only metal beams of varying degrees of sharpness stick out in any direction known to three-dimensional geometry?
"Oh, come on," I encouraged the man, patting him on the shoulder. "Is it really scarier to run away from Wraiths, risking your life every time you come to a new world, than to take one little step?"
The former fugitive swore.
"... damn!" – this was the only polite thing I understood from his phrase. I've heard of the small boatswain's bend. But this was clearly a heavier artillery from the lexicon of a resident of the Pegasus galaxy.
I need to take note. For broadening my horizons, of course.
"Don't worry, Alvar said that these suits can withstand a collision with a solid object if necessary," I encouraged the former fugitive as much as I could. "It's a military development, after all. They flew in them in near-planetary space! And without any inertia dampeners, by the way!"
I remembered Jensen's face, with whom I discussed my plan.
"Bold," he said. "But you must understand that these are suits designed for pilots. They can withstand a collision with a solid object, that's undeniable. But not when the object is flying at a speed of several hundred kilometers per second! You'll just be smeared against the nearest wall!"
I decided not to tell the frightened fugitive the last two phrases. The guy is already in a pre-infarct state.
Ermen's military spacesuit.
The military spacesuit was not very different from the scientific one. But the difference was still noticeable. Made of camouflage fabric, it is lighter, with more polymer protective overlays. And there are absolutely no mounts for small gas engines, as on scientific spacesuits. Well, pilots don't need to adjust their flight in open space!
And now I really regret not taking one of the scientific spacesuits. Yes, it's more inconvenient, a bit heavier... But right now, it would be most useful to us!
It also has a smaller energy reserve, but it has a darkened visor. Which is useful when you fly at very high speeds in a space fighter in orbit around a planet. And the clouds, the ozone layer, and the planet's magnetosphere don't save your eyes from the merciless stellar radiation. As the saying goes, you can only look at the sun through a regular telescope twice – once with your left eye, and once with your right.
"Maybe you'll check again?" Kirik clarified. "There must be some way to stop the ship remotely!"
"There should be," I agreed. "And it would have worked if at least part of 'Aurora's' main onboard systems were in order. But the ship's computer is damaged, only part of the automation is working. There is no life support, no signs of life, only minimal power consumption... It's a miracle that it even responded to the call from Atlantis. If you're done, it's time to get to work," I pointed to the approaching behemoth of the destroyed ship.
"Are you sure you can repair the teleportation chamber on board 'Aurora'?" Kirik asked me.
The starship, like "Hippaphoralkus" and Atlantis, was equipped with teleportation chambers. Obviously, this was the most common way to travel between the planet and ships in orbit.
But scanning "Aurora" showed that there were malfunctions in this system on board. The primary circuit burned out, and several crystals on the secondary one are not working. I have a supply of them, and the scanner will help redirect energy. And essentially, to take control of the ship, we don't need to do too much. It's enough to reach the backup command post. Which has no external damage. But it's turned off – like most of the ship's systems.
"Yes," I announced. "In the worst-case scenario, if nothing works out, we'll get to the hangar deck, take a 'jumper' there, and break out."
"Aurora's" only hangar had significant damage and deformations. However, scanners showed that there were two or three relatively undamaged "jumpers" inside. They are our reserve escape plan number three. And it has this number because the hangar doors are deformed, the hangar itself is severely damaged, and there is no guarantee that we will be able to reach it.
So for now, we're implementing plan number one: get on board, reach the backup bridge, use the engines to slow down the ship and restore life support in the internal compartments. Most of the external ones are so badly damaged that even disembarking in them is life-threatening.
If everything works out, then we'll have to repair the teleportation chamber and then proceed according to the plan.
"I hope this 'jumper' survives," Kirik patted the hull of the "jumper" we were in.
I was leisurely overtaking the rapidly rushing wreck to time the moment to reach the desired breach. It was not an easy task. And the one that comes with a dozen asterisks.
So, given: it is necessary to get on board an ancient dreadnought, flying by inertia in a vacuum at a speed ten times greater than the third cosmic speed. Yes, exactly one hundred and sixty-seven kilometers per second. A trifle for the working sub-light engines of a ship of this class, like "Aurora" or "Hippaphoralkus."
And practically at the limit of the "jumper's" capabilities.
Yes, the ship reacted to the deceleration command, and even used its braking engines. But it didn't make any noticeable changes.
Its speed changed insignificantly, and we don't have an indefinite amount of time for it to stop on its own.
It was necessary to solve the physics problem with a classic solution.
Find: a way to stop the ship or a way to evacuate the crew from its board.
Solution: ... This is where the dance with the tambourine begins.
There is no possibility of docking with "Aurora." None at all. After an hour and a half of digging through the data logs of our ship's onboard computer, I understood why it wasn't working.
For docking, both starships must lower their shields. "Aurora" has none, so there are no problems here. But "Hippaphoralkus" does. As well as working scanners and safety protocols.
So, according to them, docking is prohibited if there is a risk of damage. This protocol can be bypassed, but not with my understanding of the Ancients' programming language.
"Hippaphoralkus's" onboard computer, even with Chaya's code edits, refused to lower the shield and dock with "Aurora." Simply because we would need to get so close to the damaged starship that its mangled bow would tear off half of our side.
Yes, our dreadnought's onboard computer showed how "wonderful" it would be. It's no wonder they couldn't defeat "Skynet" for so long – if it were as smart as "Hippaphoralkus's" onboard computer, it would never have fought openly. It would have done everything sneakily, assuring people that it was acting solely for their comfort and safety.
The maximum the ship "agreed" to was to practically equalize the speeds of both ships, stay as close as possible to the damaged counterpart, and maintain a parallel course with "Aurora."
"Practically equalize" meant that "Hippaphoralkus" was currently ahead of "Aurora" by a considerable distance, but was slowing down, preparing to finally equalize speeds with it and eventually drift. Strangely enough, a starship in space can be completely stopped. And you don't even need to turn its engines against its original course. Maneuvering and braking engines were invented for this. What they do, I think, is clear from the name itself.
Alvar was piloting the ship. He didn't show it, but he was very proud of the honor bestowed upon him.
And he bravely trembled, realizing that a multi-kilometer star dreadnought is not the same as a fighter he commanded. However, this operation reveals a lot of new things to me about the Ancients' technologies.
For example, a dreadnought launched by a crew member with the Ancient gene will not shut down until you give it the appropriate command. It is for this reason that Alvar can pilot the starship. But this technology does not work with a "jumper."
Curious. I think it has something to do with the division of the Ancients into a titular and younger races.
Well, this is all just pre-mission jitters for a suicidal mission.
Why suicidal? Well, it's simple.
The only way to get on board "Aurora" is to physically transfer to it. In the series, humans used the Asgard's beam technology for this. It allowed moving an object from one point to another, turning it into pure energy. Similar to how the Stargates and the Ancients' teleportation cabins work. Only without tying the equipment to an analogous platform on the other side. Take it wherever you want, transfer wherever you want. Yes, there are limitations, such as shields or special interference, which, for example, the Wraiths have.
We could use such technology too. Only there's a nuance – for this, you need Asgard. Their splintered society is in the Pegasus galaxy, the rest live... in their own galaxy, called either Ida or Aida. And where it is, I have no idea.
So, without official papers, we use plain album sheets with pieces of wood.
Initially, my idea was to calculate the ships' speeds and jump out on the move from "Hippaphoralkus." Taking into account the speed gained from the push, "Aurora's" speed, the distance between the ships, the width of the damaged dreadnought's hull, and the magnets built into the soles and gloves of the spacesuits, with a favorable confluence of circumstances, there was a good chance of ending up somewhere on "Aurora's" hull, reaching the nearest doors, opening them manually, and getting inside. Well, and then, following the plan, get to where we need to be, do what's important.
The only drawback to the plan, nicknamed "Stupidity and Courage," was one: most likely, the hull of "Aurora" would smear any jumper against its ancient bulkheads like a fly on a windshield. No, honestly, "Hippaphoralkus" even helped with the calculations, there were good chances of hitting one of the huge breaches in the hull, grabbing onto the metal with magnets, dampening inertia, and...
I got scared. Because... What if it doesn't work? Some unforeseen factor, and that's it, in the best case, I'll die – I'm not sure that even the personal shield of the Ancients will save me from death upon impact. In the worst case, my acrobatics will fail, Her Majesty Chance will intervene, I won't be able to grab on and will fly into deep space, cursing and appealing to higher powers. Because I have serious doubts that Alvar, piloting "Hippaphoralkus" with just buttons, will be able to "catch" me in the wide-open hangar doors of the dreadnought.
Therefore, the plan had to be changed. A small addition in the form of a "jumper" and a supply of food, medicine, and ammunition in the aft compartment in case of unforeseen circumstances, and voilà!
We flew out of "Hippaphoralkus's" hangar on a "jumper," ahead of "Aurora" by several hundred thousand kilometers. Using the "jumper's" directional scanners, I managed to stabilize the ship relative to the spot where we needed to "hit," equalized speeds with "Aurora" as much as possible, so that it wouldn't happen like with the fly and the glass...
The plan was brilliant – to fly parallel to the dreadnought and slowly drag the stern of the ship directly into a remarkable hole, from where we could reach the internal parts of the dreadnought. If we were lucky, the "jumper" would sustain minimal damage and become the escape route according to plan number three, but with the mark "alpha." Which makes it a higher priority than traveling to "Aurora's" hangar for conditionally functional "jumpers."
But...
Thank you, Her Majesty Chance!
The "jumper's" engines, already working at their limit (and a little beyond) speeds and under prolonged load, died. The speed we gained in a vacuum hardly dissipated. And the "jumper's" systems didn't want to come back to life. In fact, we are now a small coffin built by the Ancients, drifting by inertia.
Therefore, we flew over "Aurora's" hull, but in the projection of a huge breach directly astern. And at the same time, we loaded ourselves with everything we could carry on board the starship.
At the same time, listening to Alvar's words about the stellar wind in the surrounding space increasing by so many points... And for us, it is now exactly the "wind correction" that snipers take into account when shooting at long distances.
We also have a considerable distance – about a kilometer. And the situation was complicated by the fact that the very cursed stellar wind was blowing the "jumper" sideways. A little more, and we will leave the zone where we can get where we want.
Therefore... Even if not from the "Hippaphoralkus," we will have to jump into the unknown.
And the only thing that can help me with calculations right now is my own brain. And it's currently too busy chewing on thoughts about what a brutal death awaits me.
We only have two attempts to succeed. If we fail, nothing will likely save us. A wizard in a blue "jumper" won't fly in,
"Misha, in ten minutes you'll be completely blown off the bridge," Alvar warned me.
Well, the jitters are gone, it's time to act.
"I'm jumping first," Kirik didn't look any more cheerful than a minute ago when I was lost in thought. "As soon as I'm secured, I'll pull you up by the cable," he tugged at the metal cable attached to his belt. "If you see me being carried further from the target, try to hit where you need to on your second attempt, or at least secure yourself to the hull. Then you'll pull me up. Don't forget your bag with tools and parts. They're more important than anything right now."
"I remember the plan," Kirik replied briefly. "But I'd rather you managed it yourself."
No kidding.
In addition to the cable connecting us both, two bags with the most necessary items we would need on board the damaged ship were attached to our belts. Most of the supplies had to be left in the "jumper's" storage compartments.
Eeeeh-h-h-h…
Gripping the edges of the "jumper's" exit hatch with both hands, I looked at the ugly hulk of the damaged starship. I feel like that guy who signed up for skydiving but suddenly changed his mind at the edge of the plane. Because he looked at how small the Earth was beneath his feet. But, how solid it looked…
"Nine minutes!"
"One small step for a man…" I began, bending my knees and pushing off the "jumper's" threshold.
The magnetic boots disengaged as expected.
And I rushed towards the disfigured superstructure of the Ancients' ship.
When people say they're not scared, they're lying. Or they're crazy.
Fear is one of the natural instincts that takes care of self-preservation of a foolish head.
Jumping into open space towards the rushing battleship of the Ancients is very scary. Especially when you realize that if you miss, your life depends solely on a guy who knows even less about space than you do.
Weightlessness… It gives strange sensations. No gravity, no pressure from any side. Only in my head, it beats: "This ship isn't big enough to have its own gravity!" Actually… Why should it have gravity at all, huh?
Stupid thoughts creep into my mind to suppress fear and despair. I would really like to stay in the safe "jumper" and try to revive it again. I would really like someone to suddenly fall on my head and stop me from doing this.
But the Universe is angry with me. Neither the ascended, nor the earthlings, nor the wraiths, nor the Asgardians, nor even Chaiya came to help. Moreover, as it turned out, Alvar can't control all the active systems without me on board. Including subspace communication. They didn't test the hyperdrive either – there's a chance the smart ship will turn back to Atlantis, and that won't help us at all. We definitely won't last two weeks near the "Aurora."
The only chance of salvation is the destroyed battleship. And a prayer to those who built it that there's something to fix there.
Alvar knows that in the worst-case scenario, if neither Kirik nor I can achieve the desired result, he will have to use Koschei's help. He's already been taken out of medically induced coma, he should wake up soon. In about an hour. There are still three hours of oxygen left in our suits. That very chance of salvation number four in all its glory.
The disfigured superstructure of the ship, protruding like a semicircular dome from the top of the middle section of the "Aurora," was approaching. Much faster than I would have liked.
I became so scared that the cold paralyzed my spine. We were inexorably closing in – me and the disfigured ten-thousand-year-old starship.
"Seven minutes," Alvar reported.
Stop, damn it! And where did the other two minutes go⁈ What distance were we from the "Aurora" at all? Two minutes is sixty seconds, the battleship flies at a speed of one hundred and seventy kilometers per second, which means…
A-a-a-a!!! A metal beam is flying right into my face! And damn it if it were sticking out lower or from the main hull! It's protruding right above the bridge! Ten meters from the "Aurora's" hull! I missed the battleship! I jumped too "high"!
There are about a hundred meters to the ill-fated beam, or so it seems to me, but there's a clear opinion that it will simply pierce me through and no personal force field will help!
"Mikhail, are you alive?!" Kirik asked, concerned.
"You won't live to see it, damn it!" I gritted out through my teeth, realizing that the beam was passing about a meter to my right… And, if I do something stupid!
My brain latched onto the thought that the impulse wasn't stupid at all. I reached out, activating the magnets in my gloves to grab onto the beam. After all, what difference does it make where exactly I grab onto the ship, right?
My glove touched the metal, the magnet activation light blinked, I rejoiced…
And in the next second, receiving a tremendous jerk that almost tore my arm out of my shoulder along with half the spacesuit, I rushed in the opposite direction! In the direction of the "Aurora," not towards it!
Screaming hysterically and tumbling in space, I felt my empty stomach stick to my heart. Everything spun before my eyes so rapidly that for a moment it seemed like I had fallen into a blender.
Several times I caught sight of the spiraling cable behind my back, then the engine lights of the "Hippophoralkus," then the "Aurora," oh! That's the destroyed bridge of the "Aurora," where I was supposed to go! Only it's flying past! Five to ten meters at a rough estimate. But that's quite enough to fly to hell into open space! Moreover, I see that I'm gradually moving away from the ship! So, hello, vacuum, we'll freeze together!
"I flew past!" The adrenaline in my blood made me speak louder than usual. My heart was pounding as if it was about to burst out of my chest like your alien. Burst out and punch its stupid owner in the face! "Kirik, when you jump, aim lower than I did!"
"There's still a kilometer of cable," he said quickly. "It's unwinding very fast…"
Naturally fast! Because I'm not flying in a straight line, but in a spiral, tumbling like an idiot! Look, how many loops I've already wound around that beam and… If I had gone down sharply, it would have turned out…
During another somersault, I almost smeared myself against some part of the "Aurora" flying rapidly towards me. Only luck saved me from this. Damn it, everything happens in the blink of an eye here! The ship isn't infinite, you damn thing! I need to act!
I grabbed the firearm on my hip. The thought was racing through my head whether I could shoot in a vacuum! After all, for the combustion reaction of gunpowder or whatever the Ermen put in the cartridges, you need oxygen… Stop, damn it! What oxygen⁈ The bullet in the cartridge is crimped so tightly that nothing penetrates it! It's a closed system, otherwise, when the primer is struck, the chemical ignition would blow the pistol to hell! Or the shot's power would be a mere puff!
I really hope that's the case!
Timing it so that I was with my back to the ship, I pulled the trigger, aiming at the boundless space. And praying that the inertia of the shot would be stronger than the rotational speed I got from the jerk…
Naturally, without a sound, but the pistol fired. I understood this by the ejected casing from the chamber. For some time, my body experienced unpleasant sensations – forces fought each other… The rotational force won. But it slowed down noticeably.
Aha, you bitch! You can't fool physics! Alchemists tried, but they were burned!
After the third shot, the inertia of approaching the ship became stronger than the speed that gave me rotation. I had to shoot again so as not to smear myself against some other protrusion on the ship's body. Stop, you old bitch! Stop! Brake! Where are you going, mechanical beast! I came to save you! Turn on the engines before I fly past! Hello, damn it!
The stern of the "Aurora" was approaching very quickly. And if I don't succeed now, then I'm done for…
"Misha, Kirik, get ready! The 'Aurora' will start braking rapidly now!" Alvar informed me.
"You don't say?!" I hissed. Little had changed from my side. And why the hell would the ship suddenly need to brake? But okay, I'll take your word for it! "Kirik, are you ready?!"
"I'm already flying!" was the reply.
Damn it, at least warn me!
At the very moment I was ready to grab onto the "Aurora's" hull near the superstructure, my hand grabbed only vacuum. The middle section of the starship had simply ended…
Resembling a syringe in its fully extended position, the "Aurora" was now flashing its "piston" before me. And, just a little, the wide stern would appear, and that's it, I'm done for.
Because I ran out of bullets, damn it! And the bag with ammunition and tools was ripped off during the tumbles! Good thing the cable is still there and…
The free end of the metal cable connecting me to Kirik flashed before my visor. And at its end, the loop that was ripped from my belt on my back flashed. Good thing it wasn't with a piece of the spacesuit!
Bad day! An incredibly bad day!
Now it was even noticeable that the "Aurora" was working no worse than a computer with a hard drive completely full. That is, it was braking pretty hard. Only I wasn't braking! And I continued to fly and…
My hand felt something on my second thigh. Looking there, I pulled a spare magazine for the pistol out of my pocket. Good thing I didn't throw it away! Or rather, I just didn't have time!
Reloading in space isn't for everyone. But on the second try, I succeeded! Aiming the weapon away from the cable, I fired.
The inertia carried me towards the web of metal cable, after which I grabbed onto the nearest part of it, wound it around my arm with all my might, held on tighter, and fired away from the ship.
The impulse threw me towards the ship. Next, I corrected my course. Then again.
On the fifth shot, I managed to achieve a straight flight. I briefly explained to Kirik the method of course correction, cursing internally for not being able to figure it out myself beforehand!
The former fugitive will only start acting after I run out of the last magazine. He's much closer to the ship now than I am. But something tells me he might not be able to fly with shots like I can.
The stern of the "Aurora" was about a kilometer away from me, and I saw its extinguished engines before me. But, strangely. I was flying in a straight line, and if the ship were moving, parts of it would flash before my face and…
The "Aurora" was stationary. And there could only be two explanations for this.
And, since I don't see any signs of energy on its board, then…
Raising my head, I quietly cursed.
"Alvar, tell me this was the best option…"
"The only one we could think of, Misha," Alvar said sadly. "The ship's systems are shutting down one by one. Koschei managed to put the battleship precisely on the 'Aurora's' course and dampen its speed against us. The shields held, the hull is undamaged. At least on our end. The ships are in dead drift… And I think that's all we have left."
"Whatever you intend to do, human," a hoarse voice of a wraith sounded, "do it quickly. In a few hours, we won't even have oxygen left. The life support system will shut down next after…"
His signal disappeared. From such a distance, I couldn't even see the lights of the "Hippophoralkus" illuminators. It seems I overestimated the ability to "turn on the ship and leave it to friends."
I suppose the communication with the ship shut down before life support. Which means I'll have to try hard…
With the penultimate shot, I managed to correct my course to hit one of the large breaches on the "Aurora's" hull. There were quite a few of them in the tail section. This is probably why the ship was moving by inertia.
Flying inside the wrecked ship, I hit my shoulder against the bulkhead with relief, activated the magnets on my boots and gloves. I exhaled with relief almost immediately. So much so that the visor in front of my face fogged up.
On the other side of the glass, double doors leading inside the ship looked at me. I made it.
I probably turned gray, but I made it.
"I'm on board," I muttered, though I knew no one could hear me. Perhaps only Kirik…
"If you can, pull me to you as quickly as possible," the former fugitive said with relief in his voice. "Because I'm a kilometer away from the ship… Good thing the cable didn't break."
Lucky son of a bitch.
"Don't relax," I advised. "Or rather, pull yourself along the cable with your hands, like climbing a rope. I'm not sure we have the time and I have the strength to pull you up."
I wish I could remember how long this metal rope is…