Chapter 6: 6. Descent

Chief Malik Rosen hesitantly relaxed his white-knuckled grip on the edge of the engine room’s control relay. He’d kept his fingers clenched against the sides of the console in a death grip until the latest wave of tremors rumbling through the Starlight Journey began to subside. ‘Subside’ was, perhaps, inappropriate considering that the shaking of the ship around him had become a constant companion. Ever since Engineer Mullins had managed to successfully decouple habitation module 4, the ship’s intermittent quakes had become a steady vibration that reminded Malik of the way Officer Jackson twitched after he helped himself to three rations of caffeine.

The ghost of a smile haunted Rosen’s lips as a memory of a simpler time rose unbidden from the recesses of his mind. Imprisoned as he was by the moment, it was easy to forget how much time he’d spent with his crew aboard the Journey. Without age recession supplements, Mullins would be old and gray by now. O’Brian certainly would have passed on to whatever waited in the afterlife. In many ways, time had come to a stop out here in the infinite black between the stars. He’d never considered, in those long, quiet years with only his crew for company, how very fragile those peaceful moments were.

Now that serenity had been shattered like ice beneath the fall of a sledge hammer. If he ever escaped his disintegrating home, he would almost certainly chastise himself for not appreciating those halcyon years. But, for now, every thought had to be devoted to making the most of the time he had left. Time that was no longer measured in decades, but in minutes.

Malik’s clear blue eyes shone with rapt intensity as his hands began to move above the control console. For several minutes he'd been rehearsing the pattern of commands required to separate habitation module 1 from its mooring arm. It was the fourteenth time he’d gone over the process, but that didn’t stop him from beginning it anew as soon as he reached the end. For the sake of the last 20,000 colonists, Chief Rosen couldn’t afford to be anything less than flawless.

Halfway through this latest practice run, Malik saw Chris emerge from the airlock on the far side of the engine room. Mullins was moving at a brisk jog, apparently recovered from his earlier exhaustion. An existential crisis will do that, Malik thought to himself as he finished moving through the pattern of buttons and switches for the fifteenth time.

“The pod is ready, Mal,” the engineer said as he looked over at the 3D model of the Journey displayed on the monitors set against the nearby wall. “I’ve got all the gear except for one rifle loaded in the pod down the hall, just like you asked.”

When the younger man looked back toward him, Malik couldn’t repress the tired sigh that slid from his lips like the whisper of a midnight promise. Malik could tell by the flash of Chris’ green eyes and the clench of the engineer’s fist that he wasn’t about to let this end without a fight. Malik could do nothing except steel his resolve as he started practice run number seventeen.

“You heard Catherine’s orders. She told us to prepare to abandon ship, Mal,” Chris said in a confrontational tone that seemed woefully out of place coming from the laid back young man.

“Captain DeRosa. I heard Captain DeRosa’s orders, Mullins.” Mal replied easily, never lifting his eyes from the console as he smoothly worked his way through the decoupling procedure for the seventeenth time.

“Hey!,” Chris snapped, bringing his closed fist down on the edge of the control console. “Dun’t you dair patronize meh, Mal. We’re way pas’ ‘Officer’ this an ‘Chief’ that. Oar mission is ovah.” The engineer seethed, his anger bringing his Venusian accent bubbling to the surface like lava breaking through the caldera of a quiet volcano.

Malik’s brows furrowed in concentration, forcing himself to finish his current practice run despite the ship lurching beneath him as another shudder vibrated through the superstructure. One of the lights set into the ceiling of the engine room crackled and popped, releasing a shower of sparks down onto the floor a few meters to the right of the control console. Mal didn’t spare the light show a second glance as he dutifully finished the checklist that would jettison module 1.

Only then did he look toward the fuming engineer. “The mission isn’t over until the colonists wake up on their new home planet, Chris.” Malik’s words were soft, a contrast to the hard, tired lines of stress carved across his face. In those brief moments, he looked closer to his actual age than the youthful appearance the age inhibitors had bestowed upon him. “The Captain knows I’m not going to leave without those colonists. We didn’t speak of it over the comms because it wouldn’t change anything except agitate a crew that’s already over the indigo stress line.”

To his credit, Mullins took a long, steadying breath and reflected, briefly, on the Chief’s words. When he spoke, his accent was gone, but the hard, stubborn light gleaming in his pale emerald eyes remained.

“It’s pointless, Mal. Look at the model,” the young man made a curt gesture toward the monitors with a flick of his wrist. “Our roll is slowing down. Just like we knew it would. We’ll lose gravity if it slows down much more. I haven’t recalculated the math, but I don’t think we've got nearly enough time to save the last module. It’s a horrible tragedy, Mal, but there is nothing any of us can do to save those colonists. Staying here won’t do anything except increase the body count by one.”

“For the love of God, think about all the colonists already on the ground.” Chris moved around the console so that nothing stood between the two men. His voice took on a pleading tone as his hands clenched in barely restrained frustration. “They don’t need a hero to throw his life away. They need a man trained in combat and survival to help keep them safe.” His voice dropped to a low murmur, his eyes drifting toward the tritanium floor as if he could no longer bear the pressure of maintaining eye contact. “We all need that man to keep us safe.”

“Don’t leave us behind, Mal,” Chris finished, finding the strength to lift his wetly gleaming eyes once more to force himself to meet the other man’s gaze. “Please.”

Malik felt a cold vice tighten around his chest when he saw the damp gleam of Chris’ eyes. He’d expected anger and resentment from the engineer. He knew he could handle the other man’s rage. What he hadn’t expected was the bitter desperation that made the engineer sound like a child preparing to confront the monster under their bed.

“Chris,” the Chief began, “I can’t le…”

Malik was spared any further words when the integrated comms built into their helmets squawked to life.

“This is Starlight Journey actual to Aries-1,” Sarah Spain said with the practiced precision of a life long comms operator. “Aries-1, do you copy?”

With a brief prayer of thanks for the blessing of an interruption, Malik quickly lifted a hand to activate his comm.

“This is Aries-1. We read you loud and clear. Things are getting pretty shaky in the engine room, over.” Malik kept his tone as crisp and professional as he could manage despite the thunderous scowl Chris was directing his way.

“Are you prepared to abandon ship?,” Captain DeRosa asked over the channel, her tone betraying none of the heartache Mal knew she must be feeling. Catherine was a professional, after all. He knew she would find a way forward for the crew and the colonists.

“Aye, Captain,” Malik replied with a military snap in his tone. “Engineer Mullins has stowed all the equipment in his pod. It is his belief that so long as all the lifepods are launched together, they should make landfall close enough that the crew can maintain radio contact.”

“That is consistent with our opinion,” O’Brian, 2nd crew’s grizzled science officer, broke in. “Obviously we can’t be certain without more information on the planet, but a synchronized launch should give us the greatest chance of success.”

“Thank you, O’Brian,” DeRosa said curtly. “The bridge crew is standing by for evacuation. How soon can you be ready?”

Malik met Chris’ green eyes while the other man stood in silence. “I’m sending Mullins to his pod now.”

There was a long pause as the Captain digested the information Malik provided. And the information he pointedly withheld. At length, she finally replied in a tone that was firm as the tritanium floor beneath their boots.

“Then we launch in three minutes. Come what may, I want you all to know that it has been the greatest honor of my life to serve with you all aboard this ship. I could not have asked for a more dedicated and capable group of comrades. While our mission did not end as planned, we saw it through to the very end. Our task, however, is not finished. We will join the exodus from this ship and help carve out a place for humanity upon this new world.”

“Just as we were always meant to,” DeRosa murmured, her voice broadcasting over the comms grew thick with repressed emotion for the first, and last, time. “We will carry with us the memory of our home and of the people we shared it with.”

“This is Starlight Journey actual, signing off.”

As soon as the comms channel went dead, Chris muttered, “She knows.” The younger man closed his eyes and shifted to lean heavily against the control console. “She knows you’re going to stay and she didn’t try to stop you.”

“I can’t leave,” Malik said, his voice barely loud enough to hear. The steady rumble of the ship around them had grown in volume and violence until it felt like being stuck inside a barrel tumbling over a waterfall.

He could see the moment Chris came to terms with the decision he’d made. He watched the engineer ponderously push away from the console to lever himself back upright. With his back ramrod straight, Mullins thrust a hand toward Malik in a gesture of acceptance.

With a sense of relief he hadn’t expected to feel, Malik took the offered handshake.

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“While the Cap'n was on comms I did some napkin math,” Chris said as he let his hand fall idly to his side. “Best guess is fifteen or sixteen more minutes before the module can be released. I figure the ships got about ten minutes before she comes apart.”

“I hope I’m wrong, Mal,” he continued before abruptly turning his back. “Good luck, Chief. I’ll close the bulkhead door on my way out. It may buy you a few seconds when the Journey starts coming apart.”

“Good luck, Chris. Its been an honor,” Malik replied, watching the other man quickly cover the distance between the console and the bulkhead door. It had been decided early on that Chris would use one of the lifepods adjacent to the Tritanium HIghway. Mal would use the engine room’s pod.

If he lived that long.

With his thoughts weighed down by the chains of bittersweet emotion, Malik watched Chris step through the threshold and activate the bulkhead door. He felt Mullins green eyes on him, silently pleading for him to change his mind as the door’s hydraulics moved a thick barrier of forged metal into place. The engineer’s pleas went unanswered and the door closed, leaving Malik alone with his fate.

His clear blue eyes closed and he tried to refocus his attention. The Captain would take care of the crew. They were in good hands because he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Catherine would do her job. He needed to concentrate on doing his part. That meant giving the 20,000 colonists still aboard the Journey a chance to reach the surface.

His chest shook as he drew in a deep, shuddering breath. He mentally counted to ten before exhaling. Only then did he open his eyes and turn toward the control console. He ignored the high pitched shriek that came from somewhere overhead and the gout of water that erupted from a pipe as it buckled beneath the strain of Journey's twisting frame. Tuning out all the distractions, internal and external, he began to rehearse the separation procedure one last time.

Only once did he pause, lips twisted into a wistful smile, when the monitors showed the lifepods launching toward the planet. He lifted a hand, waving towards his crew, his family, one last time.

Then he got back to work.

The minutes slipped by with an agonizing slowness. He measured the time by the accumulating damage that grew more and more severe with each passing moment. A shallow pool of water had covered the entire floor until a particularly violent quake caused one of the floor panels to snap. Water disappeared into the opening only to erupt back out in a wave of steam that obscured the entire room in an angry fog.

As the temperature inside the engine room rose, more equipment began to fail. The lights above flickered, many bursting in a blinding flash that sent fiery sparks cascading down into the cloudy room. Sections of the steel ceiling shrieked until they snapped beneath the pressure and fell thunderously to the floor.

Malik ignored it all. Even as the ship’s roll slowed to the point that the centripetal force no longer sustained local gravity, he merely wedged the toe of his boot beneath the control relay to keep himself anchored to the floor.

When I was a kid, I’d have paid good money for a ride like this. Malik thought as the ship lurched beneath him like a wild horse trying to buck a would-be cowboy. The thought drew a dry chuckle from his parched lips as he cast a glance toward the 3D model of the ship. After blinking the sweat from his eyes he counted the degrees of rotation he still needed before he could detach the module.

Come on, old girl. You can still do this. Just a little more.

Then the world went dark as the steady thrum of the compressed fusion reactor behind him gave a shrieking death rattle. A heartbeat later red lights illuminated the engine room and monitors began to spark to life once again. Luckily, the monitors displaying the 3D model were among the ones tied into the emergency systems.

No sooner had the monitors come back online than Malik’s eyes widened in shock as he watched the entire bow of the ship disintegrate into a storm of loose debris. The ship lurched, throwing him hard enough that he nearly dislocated his knee in his attempt to keep his foot wedged beneath the relay station. Several camera feeds winked out as the raucous clatter of sundered metal striking the remaining hull echoed through every inch of the wounded vessel. Anxiously Mal checked the status of the module to ensure it hadn’t been struck.

Not only had it escaped damage, but it was finally in proper alignment for release.

The sound of twisting metal groaned through the Journey as the ship writhed in its death throes above the mysterious blue planet. Malik tried to put all of that out of his mind, forcing his fingers to deftly move across the array of buttons and toggle switches laid out across the control panel. His hands quickly brought the module’s telemetry systems online and began the separation sequence. Each flick of his fingertips brought the 20,000 people closer to escape.

Then the center of the ship shattered as if a giant had struck it with a moon-sized hammer.

The 3D model of the Journey winked out. With no input aside from the surviving camera feeds, Malik watched one of the few functioning monitors in mounting horror. In the blink of an eye, the mooring arm attached to the module tore apart like so much tissue paper. He’d been too late.

He’d failed.

Come on. Malik thought, watching the module spin through space. Something struck the bulkhead door with the force of an artillery shell, sending a bass note ricocheting through the engine room like the ringing of a gong. Come on, damn you.

As if they’d been ignited by the force of his will, bright running lights bloomed around the rounded edges of the habitation module’s hemisphere. Malik whooped in triumph when he saw the tell-tale blue glow of the module’s repulsor engines firing. The module remained in the camera’s shot for only a moment more, but in that moment he saw the massive hemisphere shifting to align itself for a controlled reentry.

He’d done it.

Tension rushed from him like water from a compressed sponge. His shoulders sank and his eyes dropped to the floor. He struggled to catch his breath since, at some point, his breathing had become erratic and shallow. At that moment he considered simply waiting there for the inevitable end. He thought about traveling with the Starlight Journey to whatever waited in the beyond.

There are worse ways to go, he thought to himself as the racket around him grew to a feverish pitch. All I have to do is stand here and wait for the end.

Instead he pulled his boot out from underneath the control console and threw himself across the engine room toward the lifepod.

Moments later, as he passed through the lifepod's hatch, another deafening boom reverberated through the engine room as the ship continued to tear itself apart. The pod was small, less than four meters in diameter, and bathed in an angry red glow that originated from a single bulb affixed to the roof of the tiny craft. Inside the pod, he found little more than two crash couches that faced a plassteel window and a bare bones instrumentation panel . One of the couches was empty. The other was occupied by the rifle Mal had asked Chris to leave behind.

Wasting no more time, he propelled himself toward the empty couch and pulled himself down into its rigid seat. A flick of his wrist lifted the safety shield placed over the ejection lever. His left hand was already pulling the flight harness over his shoulders when his right hand pulled the lever. The rigid switch resisted the pressure for a fluttering heartbeat only to give in a moment later with an audible thunk.

Instantly the hatch slid shut and Malik felt a sudden acceleration press him into the crash couch. He scrambled to finish snapping his harness into place as the instrumentation panel came alive with the warm glow of purpose made electronics. The readings changed rapidly as retro rockets fired, swinging the craft into a dizzying turn that brought the bright blue planet into view.

It's beautiful. Malik thought, just as he had the first time he’d seen it through the bridge’s observation window. Wispy white clouds drew haphazard lines across the bright blue marble, reminding him of another planet that he’d seen, only once, from space. He knew this planet held even more water than his ancestor’s home. It would be a challenge to colonize, but he was certain they’d find a way. After all, they’d found their way here through the cold, unforgiving vacuum of space. It would take more than a little water to dissuade them now.

Thoughts of their journey pulled his attention away from the planet to the twisted hulk of a spaceship that hurtled through the atmosphere toward the world below. Flames now engulfed its hull, searing away the superstructure that was never intended to operate anywhere other than the deep reaches of space. Transfixed, he watched the final moments of his home as it blazed a trail through the sky like a shooting star. It’s fragments would scatter across the oceans below and create ripples the likes of which the planet had never seen.

Goodbye, old friend.

Malik breathed out a wistful sigh as he descended toward the mysterious planet that he was destined to explore.

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