Interference in Transit

2550 – Elan Autonomous Resource Sector

“Ugh, I’m so bored.”

Hel chuckled. “It’s only been twelve hours.”

“You just heard yourself, right? Twelve hours.”

Hel was sitting in the captain’s chair of the Viaticus Rex II.I, where her boss, Maurice “Moss” Foote, usually sat.

Boss… Moss… Maybe she should start calling him Boss Moss. Moss Boss? He’d hate that, so that meant she probably should.

Hel’s eyes widened. “Yeah, I just realized I’m bored too.”

Their transport, a refurbished chimera made up of parts from a dozen different ships, was making a cargo run between Elan, the resort world they were currently hiding out on, and Elativ, a resource world just twenty light years away that helped keep its economy going.

Problem was, Elativ was just inside of a Transit Interference Zone, which meant what should have taken no time at all was instead taking twelve hours…and counting.

Rationally, this wasn’t a big deal. They’d taken far longer trips along the Void that straddled the border between Draxon and Nubra space. Even in a ship as surprisingly fast as the Rex, that trip could take over a week and cover two thousand light years.

But emotionally, you just knew that you were going slow. A hundred times the speed of light only sounded fast until you remembered the year part of light year. And Violet was no doubt even more aware of their plodding speed, given that she was essentially the ship’s computer.

There was a flicker and Violet appeared before Hel, leaning back on the dash like a pin-up model. She appeared pretty much the same as she had in life, with long dark hair, a form fitting flight suit, and dark eyes that conveyed mischief and intelligence in equal measure. Hel once described her looks as a cross between a ninja and a princess, and Violet had tweaked her features to best get that across.

“You could always join me at my place,” she said with a grin.

They were also dating.

“I’d love to, but one of us has to pay attention. Moss said that strange things can happen in Transit Interference Zones.”

“Well, he’s right. TIZ no joke,” Violet quipped. Hel groaned. “Hey, come on. I’m literally made for multitasking. Well, sorta. Point is, if anything happens out here, I’ll snap you right out.”

Hel gave in. “What did you have in mind?”

“Oh, I have ideas.” Violet swung her legs off the dash and got up, then leaned in close to Hel. So close you couldn’t ignore the fact that her voice came from the speakers instead of where she seemed to be. “I was thinking…”

A plastic blue case suddenly appeared in her hand, looking like a thin book. The cover depicted what was presumably a robot, only the most bulky and inelegant robot Hel had ever seen, with a clear dome head showing off its internal workings. It was carrying an unconscious woman in its bulbous arms.

“Forbidden Planet!”

Hel frowned. “You’re joking.”

“Come on! It’ll be a blast! You won’t believe how cheesy it is, but still good, you know? I mean, if it wasn’t for this movie, we wouldn’t have Star Trek.”

Hel tried to keep a straight face. There was nothing more bizarrely funny, or attractive, as watching Violet geek out over old Earth entertainment. Her enthusiasm was infectious.

She often wondered why Violet was so obsessed with ancient Earth. Not only did that world no longer exist, its way of life was gone as well. The Terran Colony Fleet had spent the last three hundred years forging a new identity for humanity. Strong, efficient…cold.

Violet had walked away from it, and she was hardly alone. Plenty of synths turned their back on the Fleet. But that was fine. The TCF just stepped up production to fill the gap.

Hel shuddered. It was an ugly way of looking at things.

She realized Violet was still grinning at her, holding the movie box.

Hel rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. I’ll be there in a minute.”

She settled into her seat and engaged the haptic VR system. After a moment, she was standing just outside of Violet’s mansion, which she was pretty sure came from a movie called Home Alone.

Since her last visit, Violet had added a hot-air balloon ride on the golf course out back, next to the 12^th hole and the life-sized Godzilla statue, where a herd of chubby pink pegasi were grazing. Looking into Violet’s backyard was like a window to her chaotic mind.

Hel went inside and headed for the basement, where the home movie theatre was.

Of course, she could have a full-sized movie theatre here, with a thousand seats and a balcony for five hundred more… but there was little point if they were all empty.

So instead, she had made something cozier, while still evoking the movie theatre experience. Plush reclining seats, large five-meter screen, and a concession stand that was always stocked.

Violet was there waiting for her at their usual seats, one row from the front, right in the middle, a drink and popcorn already in the arm holder.

“Get ready for some Robbie the Robot goodness!”

The movie was about halfway done. Commander Adams had just kissed Altaira when a tiger showed up and jumped off a cliff at them. Adams blew it away with his blaster pistol.

Violet leaned over, no doubt to either explain some science or movie trivia connected to the weapon, but her expression went blank.

“Time to go.”

Hel was back in the Rex, looking out into the vast expanse of space. Her gel seat adjusted for flight maneuvers and her hands were ready at the controls. The ship had already dropped to sub-transit speed.

“What’s wrong?” Hel asked.

“Picked up a ship not too far away,” Violet said over the speakers. “Slowed down to get a better reading. Elan registry. Engines are dead.”

“Any kind of distress signal?”

“Nada. No power to the ship at all.”

“Did you want to check it out?" asked Hel. “I mean, we’re on a schedule here. Could just call it in. No power means no life support, right?” Moss would probably want to see what he could salvage from it, but Hel was more interested in getting back to Elan and relaxing on a real beach again.

“Residual radiation and heat indicate the ship has only been drifting for six hours.”

“So… survivors?”

“It’s possible, depending on ship size, crew compliment, hull integrity…”

“I get it. Okay, let’s check it out.”

“That’s my flygirl.”

A minute later, the Viaticus Rex II.I dropped from sub-transit about a hundred klicks from the vessel.

It was a transport, a simple rounded Nubran design, which was little more than a shuttle with a large series of cargo pods attached to the back. It wasn’t even designed to land on planets, but rather to ferry cargo containers from station to station.

“Any signs of life?”

“One, in the cockpit.”

“All right, let’s be quick about this.”

The access hatch to the transport was on the underside, so the Rex was able to belly up and bridge the two ships easily. With the power dead, opening the hatch had to be done manually.

Once she opened the hatch, the air would be breathable on the other side, but she decided to flip her helmet on, just in case. It extended from the housing at the back of her neck, reaching over her head and coming down over her face as a clear, flexible faceplate that went firm as it pressurized. It was an emergency helmet, meant for dealing with hull breaches, not proper EVA, but she didn’t know what was going to happen over there.

The hatch opened with a slight hiss. “Assuming the pilot is from Elan, can you change the air mix to match?” Hel asked. Elan’s atmosphere was higher in oxygen than she was used to, which made bonfire nights on the beach a lot more fun.

“Already on it.”

A surprising number of species within the Protectorate shared similar traits. Many were bipedal, bibrachial, oxygen breathers. The leading theory as to why was some form of panspermia that had occurred millions of years ago.

Or, as Moss had once put it, “someone really wanted to play the long game.”

Moving from the Rex to the transport was extremely weird, because she could feel the exact point where the ship’s artificial gravity cut off and the dead transport’s zero gee began. It rippled along her body as she pushed through, like she was being scanned by some strange alien device.

Once inside, Violet called her through the helmet comm. “Not much I can do from here unless you can get the power on.”

Hel nodded. “Understood. I just want to get the pilot into the Rex. ProSec or SAR can deal with the ship later.”

“Be careful. This might be a graywalker trap. The pilot might be a zombie with an energy being pulling the strings.” Graywalkers were encountered so rarely in the galaxy they were almost the stuff of legend. Almost.

Hel snorted. “I think that’s pretty unlikely, don’t you?”

“Highly. Which is why I think the odds are fifty-fifty.”

“Murphy’s Law?”

“Moss’s Law, which is like Murphy’s Law, but only applies to Moss.”

“Moss isn’t here,” said Hel.

“It’s his ship. Close enough. We’re bound to be contaminated by now.”

Hel chuckled. Her boss, currently taking it easy back on Elan, had a unique way of looking at things. No matter what happened when he was around, he always made it sound like the galaxy was against him.

Granted, the way things panned out, it often felt like he had a point.

This transport wasn’t big, being little more than an engine and cockpit. Pilots tended to do layovers at their stations to get a rest and a proper meal.

The door to the cockpit was locked half open, stuck because of the lack of power. She tried to force it open, but it wouldn’t budge. Fortunately, she could squeeze through.

“You should really get the power on first,” Violet said with a hint of concern.

“It’s okay. I can see the pilot.”

The cockpit was designed for just one person. They were in the central gel cushion seat, reclined back in a familiar angle.

“I think they were in VR when the power went out.” Passing the time in the TIZ, just like she’d been.

“They might be in a coma,” said Violet.

“Told you it was dangerous.”

“Hey, they didn’t have a brilliant co-pilot keeping an eye on possible anomalies, now did they?”

“Hold on… Maybe that’s not what happened.” Hel realized the pilot was in a bulky EVA-rated suit, which was unusual. That wasn’t everyday interior shipwear. Perhaps he had been outside trying to make repairs, and came back when his reserves ran low?

Hel went to check on the pilot’s vitals when they suddenly sat up straight in the gel seat. Before she could say anything, the pilot tried to grab her. Hel barely stepped back in time, and the pilot got up out of the chair and faced her.

Hel blanched. While the Elanian pilot seemed to be standing up straight and alert in their suit, the head visible inside the helmet sagged and their eyes were clearly closed. They weren’t conscious at all.

“Graywalker?” she said in an unbelieving whisper.

Violet gasped. “Oh shit, get out of there!”

“Greetings!” the suit suddenly said in stilted GalCom.

Before Hel could answer, the suit charged her, using magnetic grips to stay attached to the floor. Hel bounced off the wall towards another, trying desperately to keep out of reach.

“This is the automated emergency survival system.”

It came at her again, but Hel was prepared now, and kept her distance with short, angled hops that kept her in close contact with the hull.

“This unit’s life signs are critical.”

Now at the front of the cockpit, Hel leapt toward the entry hatch at the back, arms out in front like the cliff divers she’d seen back on Elan.

“Your suit’s air and power supply are urgently required to keep this unit functional.”

She had no problem with that in theory, but the way the suit came at her gave her every reason to think it would be anything but gentle in its approach.

“We apologize for the inconvenience.”

Her jump was on point and she pulled herself through before the suit could reach her. Fortunately, the half-closed doors were too wide for the bulky EVA suit to fit through. That didn’t stop it from trying, though.

“Please do not resist.”

Finally able to breathe, Hel called to Violet. “Did you catch all that?”

“Yeah. At least it’s not a graywalker.”

Hel frowned and looked at the suit, which was still trying to squeeze through the gap, reaching out for her with one bulky arm. She retracted her helmet.

“Hey, dumbass, the air is breathable now. Just open the visor!”

The suit continued to reach. “Please do not resist.”

Hel sighed. “Any ideas, Vi?”

“Get back to the Rex, Hel.”

“We can’t just leave the pilot. They’re probably suffocating inside that thing.”

“Not my intention. We have stuff here that might help.”

“No time.”

“Hel, I can’t do anything from here you unless you get the power on.”

“No time for that, either.”

Hel looked around. She was back in the hatch room, with the engines behind her and the cockpit with the crazy grabby suit thing in front. There had to be something she could use to…

“Got it!” Hel said. She grabbed a fire suppressor and nudged herself back to the half-open hatch. The arm was still desperately trying to grab her, and it had squeezed through a bit more, enough so that the helmet and its unconscious occupant were visible. Perfect.

“Sorry about this,” she said, bracing herself against the ceiling. With a massive swing, she brought the extinguisher down on the suit’s elbow, hard enough to damage the servos and make it go limp.

“This unit’s arm is now broken.”

“Sorry!”

Fortunately, she was still braced against the ceiling and hadn’t spun off in some zero-gee shenanigans. With a second swing, she brought the extinguisher straight into the visor. It cracked. She swung again and this time it shattered, sending shards into the pilot’s face.

“Lacerations detected. Medical aid required,” said the suit.

“Sorry!”

“Oxygen levels returning to normal.”

She pushed herself off the ceiling and gripped the floor to get a better look. The pilot started to take deep breaths and soon their eyes began to open. Then, after a moment, they turned to Hel with the most confused look on their face, a face which had several shards of visor sticking out of it, then looked at their limp arm, then back at her.

“OOOOWWW!”

“I’m so, so sorry!”