The Gorgonea Tertia System
The Malfunction - 2014
THE CAST:
Seca Jobe/Peter, Dom Kobios, Seca Rosa/Helen, Bala Prime, Bala Temper, Bala Hondry, Jake, Maot, Grunter, Brockko, Basib
‘Yes, I’m worried,’ Peter said. ‘That’s the most inexperienced crew for a vessel there could ever be.’
Peter was flying the Trun spies’ sphere though Wormhole Catarrh 6, Dom Kobios, Bala Prime, and Bala Temper at his shoulder, all staring in wonder at the patchwork matrix attacking their visual senses. They were again, at Peter’s behest, discussing the others.
‘It’s been a month since we left them, Peter,’ moaned Dom Kobios. ‘You won’t let this go.’
‘Seca Mika is the only member of their party with any experience of sustained space travel,’ Peter said.
‘You forget my young prince,’ said Kobios. The tall and beautiful Vercetian female towered over Bala Prime and the diminutive Bala Temper.
‘He’s still just a fifteen-year-old boy,’ said Temper. ‘We sometimes forget that.’
‘But you haven’t been a part of his Life Team,’ said Bala Hondry, fresh from his afternoon nap. ‘Kobios can tell you, after a while you forget he’s a boy. Bala Stevos would be first to agree that he’s been the unofficial leader of the Life Team for a couple of years now.’ Stevos had agreed to return to Preenasette with Commander Mancer in the battlecruiser, having struck up a rapport with the gruff old soldier. The official line was to present a united front to whoever they would meet first upon their return home, be they Trun or Vercetian. Unofficially, the two oldest members of the group enjoyed a certain rapport they couldn’t get with the younger Preenasettians.
‘Still, five of the crew being the kids from Earth makes it a very inexperienced team,’ muttered Peter. ‘I’m just saying.’
‘We couldn’t split them up, now could we?’ asked Bala Prime. ‘And,you said it yourself, Jon will be the main pilot in no time.’
‘And Gordon is the best engineer,’ stated Hondry. ‘If we were to have a mechanical issue, we would be in more trouble than them.’
Peter turned accusingly to Hondry, always believing that he was the jack of all trades and could fix anything.
He was about to challenge Hondry when a deep rumbling sound erupted from below them. The whole of the ship began to shudder. Peter grappled with the steering to keep the sphere away from the sides of the wormhole.
‘Sit down and strap up!’ he shouted to everyone, and reached for his own emergency body lockdown switch. Three sensor rods rose out of his seat and instantly created an invisible protective shield around him. He felt the gentle pressure push into the whole of his body, locking him in; his body movement limited, though his arms were still free to steer.
Helen, Maot, and Jake were already locked in at the conference table, with the others now fighting the failing artificial gravity to get back to their seats. Kobios helped Hondry while Prime helped Temper, then took up their positions at Navigation and Ops.
‘Major failure of the primary drive quantum coupling,’ exclaimed Prime, evaluating the sphere’s integrity status. ‘We need to get out of here now.’
‘All buckled up?’ shouted Peter over the din of the failing engines. ‘It’s a mid-transit exit of the wormhole, I’m afraid. It’s going to get bumpy.’
Peter slipped into his Heightening Senses mode, hoping all his simulation training would kick in automatically. But this would be his first real life attempt at exiting a wormhole mid-flight; it was something that could never be simulated. The ship’s design catered for this eventuality with additional strengthening to the hull and concentrated forward force field shielding. But he knew it was fraught with danger.
The resonance all around him steadily increased in amplitude, so he started the exit immediately. Moving out of a highly compressed space tunnel into standard space would feel like an ion particle exiting a laser weapon. One could only hope there was no sun, planet, debris field or black hole in the way because that would mean instant vaporisation. Peter knew the odds of this happening in the vastness of space were billions to one – but still.
He eased the sphere toward the bottom of the wormhole and began caressing the matrix wall, then applied slightly more pressure. The helices of exotic matter strings started shouting back at him, annoyed that their subatomic particles should be disturbed in such a manner. Peter continued regardless, pushing further into the wall, now creating an antitail – a trailing tail causing a fissure in the wall. He wouldn’t have long before the wormhole’s self-preservation would close it. He applied full downwards-thrusting power and slipped through, popping out into standard space. The fissure instantly sealed itself and disappeared, leaving the sphere flying forward at an incredible speed.
The sensors were useless now and the screen resolution distorted, so all they could do was wait helplessly and hope. The reverse thrusters did all they could, but it would be a slow process. It was a long few minutes before they felt safe and could relax. They released themselves from body lockdown and gathered to assess their predicament.
Captain Grunter entered the bridge of the Fandom Salvage Ship and burped loudly. His shipmates returned the morning greeting to their captain, with a crescendo of belching and flatulent replies.
Grunter stretched then asked, ‘Why have you summoned me this early? It had better be good.’
‘It is, Captain,’ replied Brockko, his first mate. ‘We have located a ship in distress – four hours from here. Gaburp! And the good part…’ He paused, knowing it would annoy his rotund boss.
‘Well!’ shouted Grunter.
‘The good part is the signature. It’s one of those Preen-a-wotsanameion sphere ships.’
‘A what?’ replied the impatient captain.
‘Remember, years ago we got those two silver spheres, that were chasing each other? And the buyer said he would have another for twice the asking price?’ continued Brockko.
‘A third one, eh? Gurk!’ Grunter immediately becoming excited, burping uncontrollable, with his crew joining in. ‘Payday has come early. Gaburp!’
‘Basib, set course for it, immediately,’ ordered Grunter.
‘Yes, sir, burp,’ replied the ship’s navigator.