Sandra's paranoia about being followed was something Arya could appreciate. If this derelict turned out to be something valuable to the Order, it wouldn't do to have another salvage crew - or worse, someone from the LSF or Core stations nearby - getting their hands on it first. Of course, she still had a nagging feeling that this was a smoke run and would wind up being a waste of time; not that she had anything better to do without a ship to command, she had been back to flying delta wing fighters on recon ops for the Legacy ever since her Condor had been overwhelmed by infected forces in Tohoku. She had gotten an ever so brief glimpse at the life of command, and lost it soon after; now she wanted it back, but there weren't any ships available - the Legacy had a hard time procuring vessels for their cause.
She looked over at Sandra, punching in a labyrinthine course through the Toledo Graveyard and somewhere to the other side, "How long will it take to get there?"
After finishing plotting a course, Sandra piped up over the hum of the ship’s engines. “Should take about half an hour fer us’ta get where we’re goin’. It’s pretty far outta the way - Which’d explain why it’s gone fer so long before bein’ located. On the off-chance a stealth vessel is tailin’ us, that’ll give us time enough fer their cloaking drives’ta dry up on fuel, even if they’ve got a transport-class reserve capacity.”
About 12 minutes into the trip, and again around the 26 minute mark, Sandra cleared her waypoint markers and re-plotted their destination. “Sorry, this system gets me all jumpy. I’m more used’ta flyin’ more civilized space, or the border worlds between. Most usually, the wildest place I see’s Bering, an’ even that ain’t as stressful - it’s easy’ta avoid trouble when yer a proven neutral party, an’ya know how’ta talk a good game.”
“We’re about three minutes behind planned arrival, but that ain’t too shabby for a non-emergency situation.” Sandra paused for a few seconds. “Soo... What made ‘ya join the Order, over say, the Core Paramilitary? Joined later in life, or were ‘ya born into it?”
"Well, back when I joined up the Core didn't really even exist, at least not like they do now. They used to just be an extremist arm of the bounty hunter's guild, sent out here by the house governments trying to hunt us down like - as you put it - 'terrorists'. I don't know, I guess I was an idealist and wanted to do more than I could where I was at. The Order promised a lot; the chance to explore places that had never been seen, to do the good deed of protecting humanity against an unknown alien threat, it was virtuous."
Arya gazed out the view port distantly as she recollected her past, "I was a fighter pilot for a long time with the Order, and had my fair share of close calls, but for the most part it felt like we were doing the right thing. I served under Admiral Aki Kimura for a time, and while she was hotheaded she always had a good heart, but when rumor came down the ranks that she was wanted for court martial due to diplomatic failures with the Corsairs, she went AWOL. Myself, and a lot of other people onboard, were left in escape pods adrift, until we were picked up by the search parties."
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, "I almost resigned when that happened. It's a bad spot for a combat pilot to not know if her superiors can be trusted, or if they have your back. Then another came along to take her place, youngest officer I've ever seen in command of a ship, Kaylee Staite. She was something else, full of life, brimming with hope, and an extremely charismatic leader, everyone I knew loved her."
Arya pointed out the view port as they passed the smoldering ball of molten rock that was Planet Toledo, "And she was born there. One of the first generation of people actually born out here, on the Order's homeworld. It used to be a frozen rock, but habitable, beautiful despite the cold. When we lost Toledo, it changed Kaylee, her heart was gone, her charisma was gone, she disappeared and was declared Missing in Action and nobody knew what happened to her."
Her eyes were noticably wet from holding back tears of remorse, and bad memories. She wiped her face on her sleeve, "But, we had to move on. Everyone blames the Core for Toledo, but really, deep down, we all know it wasnt their fault. They had their grievances with the Order and made the first move, sure, but it was the Nomads that burned our world. The problem now is that everyone has gotten blurry on the details. The Order - the Overwatch, black fleet, whatever you want to call it, under Admiral Golanski - has turned their pain and hatred towards the Core, the Outcasts, Kusari, everyone except the party actually responsible."
She cleared her throat, "That's when I decided to leave. My commander, Christopher Maihos, is loyal to a fault, and he follows his orders without question, it doesn't matter who gets hurt or what the mission is, if command says jump he jumps. He trusted them too much. Overwatch sent us out to the Sigmas to hunt outcasts instead of keeping us out here, fighting the nomads on their own grounds. Chris is a good guy, an excellent pilot and commander, but he wasn't able to see that High Command has lost it, they don't even know who they're fighting anymore. So, I left, I packed my things, put in my resignation, and went to work for the Legacy of Orillion."
"The Legacy... they do things the way they should be done, like they were done when I first joined the Order, or when I served under Kaylee. They care about people, they don't tolerate collateral damage or civilian casualties, if the risk is too great the mission is scrubbed. They don't have us running around fighting outcasts for no reason, and they've even worked towards a neutrality agreement with the Core, because as much hatred as there is between the Core and the Order, that conflict is beyond pointless, and the only reason they fight anymore is because that's all they know how to do. The Legacy is bringing refugees from Gran Canaria to Akabat, and giving them new lives after being forced out of their homes by Bretonia. They send ships and supplies to help the Zoners protect convoys of civilians fleeing the planet. I just wish that they - we - were recognized as being a humanitarian group with virtuous goals, rather than being lumped in with the rest of the Order and their 'terrorist' brand."
Arya realized she had been ranting on for quite a while, apparently she had a lot on her chest that she needed to let out.
Sandra let Arya speak uninterrupted, figuring it was better in this situation not to give commentary until after the Captain had finished.
"Gosh.." was all Sandra could manage at first.
"Well, I reckon that helpin' the Zoners've Gran Canaria's a good start. It's one thing'ta fight aliens all'a time, but takin' time aside'ta help out those needin' it? It's the righ' thing'ta do, an' I s'pose the public image'd be impacted positively. Not 'ta tangent, but I'm still in a bit've disbelief over Bretonia's sudden 180 actin' like Gallia, an' invadin' a neutral group that ain't given 'em grievances." The Houstonite glanced at the ETA clock, figuring she still had enough time to keep going with the conversation.
I'll admit I don' know much about aliens an' whatnot. This' prob'ly my firs' time ever makin'a trip out here, 'ta the Omicrons. But I reckon, if'n yer group was founded fer focusin' solely on one thing, it don' make too much sense fer ya'll'ta be goin' after anything else. Even if, admittedly, I ain't too fond've Outcast folk, what with them's bein' drug runners an' slave drivers. But," she continued, "I guess groups like that're why the Hunters' Guild exists."
"I think 'ya made the right call, Arya-- Cap'n Davis," she corrected. "Best thing good folks like you an' me can do is by puttin' their foot down when you don't agree with how someone's runnin' things. Funny, I guess that gives us common ground - I left the Congress 'cause I didn' agree with how many under-the-radar deals they were takin' on. I reckon I'd try my luck flyin'round on my own; see what work I'cn dig up. Well, not totally on my own, given that my sister's gonna be joinin' me on her own vessel. She's a space explorer, so she'd know the backwoods better than I do, an' I know how'ta talk'ta people an' how'ta prospect, so we make a right decent team!"
"Since we're swappin' stories here, I started out my space career in the Miners' Guild. Spent about, oh, half a year with them, before moseyin' back'ta Liberty. The Taus were where I was, an' while they were quite beautiful, it was a bit too dangerous out there fer me, what with frequent Outcast patrols. After that, I took on a couple of part-time positions, one with Universal, the other as a prospector for Deep Space. Made a pretty penny that way - Enough'ta rent-ta-own my own Bison with Universal! After a few months've that, I crossed paths with Rick Tiltman - The current Arbiter of the Congress. He offered me a job, an' even offered'ta finish the payments on my Bison. I knew the Junkers were jus' a bunch of recyclers an' picker-uppers of others' messes, so I reckoned shoot, what the heck? Well, I gave it a full year this time - I didn't want my resume to seem like I was too much of a flake. Tell 'ya what, I stuck with it hard this time, even blew off my sister's initial protests at first. Finally, I figured there was no fixin' was wasn't broke in the firs' place, an' gave up tryin'ta do the right thing in a group that focuses too much on caterin'ta shady types."
"I guess my life don't come close'ta comparin'ta the adventure yer's has been, but I think I've done decently with the cards I've been dealt so far. 'Least bein' in the Congress got me a few things - I own my Bison scott-free now, an' I've added this here Wrecker'ta my garage too, among a few other things."
Sandra smiled some, now. "Anyways. If 'ya say ya've broken off from the Terroristic Order'ta do things yer own way, then I reckon that there's good enough fer me. This galaxy needs more folks'ta do the Right Thing. It'd be a better place if grudges and profit weren't the top of everyone's list."
A mild 'Ding-Ding' effect sounded out, followed by a melodic, tinny voice. "Destination arrival in: Two minutes."
"Shoot, that wasn't so bad! I'll slow us down'ta impulse about ten cruise-seconds out. I'd recommend seat belt fer when we drop outta cruise speed - But, yer prob'ly well-aware. It's jus' habitual."
Arya braced herself as the ship slowed down. They were at the outermost limits of the edge nebula, far from Toledo. The asteroid density here was sparse, though the nebula itself - various gasses, particles, and micro-organisms - was more dense than usual, drastically reducing visibility to only a few meters beyond the viewport. As Sandra slowly moved forward through the cloud, an ominous silhouette slowly came into view, blurred by the cloud and jammed against a relatively large asteroid that served as a backdrop, hiding the wreckage from radar cross section scans. Between the cloud distorting infrared and electromagnetic emissions and that asteroid, it was no wonder this wreckage had never before been found, it had the perfect cover, cold and lifeless against the rocks. It was a wonder that anyone had found it at all.
Arya leaned forward and flipped a switch, turning on the ship's salvage spotlights to illuminate the wreckage better.
"This cloud is something else, never seen part of the edge nebula so thick, it's like fog. Must have something to do with the ship, no Idea how though. Can you move in a little closer?"
Waiting for Sandra to Readjust the ship's position, Arya mulled over the derelict in the viewport. She could tell it was a Geb-Class light carrier from the outline, though there was significant damage to the forward hangars and the heavy weapon struts jutting from the sides of the vessel. Dark spots contrasting against the hull indicated numerous breaches, weapons and turrets had all been blasted away from their mounts, and there was a gaping hole in the underside of the engine section. This derelict was in bad shape, much worse than she had expected.
"Do you have any way to clear away this cloud so we can get a better look at the hull, and a decent scan?"
As the Bunkhouse made the final approach, Sandra urged the ship to perform a steady decrease in speed down to half-impulse. Once the full-of-holes warship's outline was in view, the Wrecker was brought to a halt.
"I've managed'ta finagle the cloud away before - It's sorta strenuous on the power core, but I've brought some extra reserve batteries now that I've done this a few times. I'm gonna shift the shield generator's focus all'a way'ta the bow've the ship. Then I'll combine that with the tractor beam'ta interact directly with our shields, an' reverse the tractor direction. This'll cause the whole force-field'ta take on the tractor beam's properties, an' with it bein' set 'ta Reverse, the gasses'll jus' get pushed away! Gets real noisy, though, so watch yer ears."
The Libertonian set to work, inputting a few commands on her console. "Since I've done this before, it shouldn' take near as long as the firs' an' second times--" The noise level within the cabin increased greatly as the shield generator and tractor beam interacted with one another in a way that wasn't exactly intended. "See there?" Sandra spoke loudly. "Y'cn already see the gasses swirlin' out've the way! It should only take two'r three minutes'ta clear the whole wreck; I could rush it, but then I migh' damage what's left've the other ship!"
Slow and steady, Sandra strafed the length of the silhouette, watching as the sickly green fog was pushed back and away. Once the task was finished, the gasses seemed to linger aimlessly, leaving a large gap in the thick cloud. With that, the old-model Geb would be much easier to not only examine by eye, but allow a better readout on the Wrecker's scanners. Nodding to herself, Sandra typed some more on her console, which caused the nerve-grating noise to die away. "Voilà, much better! Tell you what, that's a neat trick I've managed'ta come up with. Won' last forever, but they should stay clear long enough fer us'ta do what we need'ta do."
Turning towards Arya, Sandra gestured with a go-ahead hand wave. "Scanner's all set fer 'ya."
Arya manned the scanner controls, bombarding the derelict with IR, EM, and Cross Section pings, and compiling the returned data into a visual scan.
Staring dumbfounded at the scan results for a moment, Arya muttered, "... oh my god... it can't be..."
She did a double take, re-scanning the ship. "Sandra, move us in closer, just behind the rear conning tower, above the engineering section." As the Bunkhouse shifted position, Arya looked out the viewport, checking that the ship's painted-on moniker matched the registry data that the scanner was pulling. "I dont believe it..."
Sandra looked confused. Arya pointed out towards the nameplate on the shipwreck, "It's the Bastet. This ship was the Order Science Division's flagship... I served on her for years, under both of those Admirals I told you about. What are the odds of finding it now... this cant be luck, it's fate."
Going over the scan results more closely, Arya examined the damage, "She's in bad shape, really bad. Core breach, weapon struts, and hangars all wrecked. Hull breaches all over the place. It'll be too dangerous to go aboard out here, we need to get it to a proper shipyard. Sandra, is this thing equipped for towing?"
"Ehh...? Don't believe what? That it's really a Geb?"
After listening to Arya speak further, Sandra' planted one hand on her captain's chair, and lean-twisted towards Ayra with widened eyes. "Say what? Yer pullin' my leg! Shoot - I think Someone's tryin'da tell 'ya somethin', sure 'nough."
"Towin'? Do pigs rut in the mud? 'Course I'm rigged fer towin'! Trouble is - I could tow this thing without concern fer weight, but we're on the edge've an asteroid field covered in a thick fog. It'd take me hours'ta tow this thing safely, an' we'd be sittin' ducks fer anything that happens along us while we're putterin' along. Could maybe see about gettin' me some folks'ta watch my back while I tow it somewhere in-system - Ya'll got a base'r a depot here? The - What was it, the Bastet? - Wouldn' likely last goin' through a jump hole in its current state."
"Maybe we could construct a giant, protective metal box around it, then bring it somewhere'ta get 'er fixed up proper, via Jump-Bubble Drive? Do ya'll have any've those? I know I thought about investin' in a Bustard once, but I never really got around'ta it, an' I never had a reason fer it. We've got loads of scrap-metal on Tarancon we could melt in'ta manifolds fer durability, or we could have some manifolds shipped from Puerto Rico. I dunno, those're the options I'cn think of off the top've my head."
Sandra paused for a long moment. "Y'don't reckon that ship was equipped with cryo-stasis pods, bein' a science ship, was it? If so, would anyone possibly be alive on that thing?"
Arya shook her head, "I was in a fighter during the battle, I know most of the crew made it off in the escape pods before the reactor blew, but there was no cryo-tech onboard. Towards the end, before the battle of Toledo, most of the science facilities had been swapped out for wartime supplies, we were neck deep in hostilities with the Core and High Command couldn't spare any pure research ships."
She looked distantly out the viewport, taking in every detail of the wreckage. That ship had been her home for years, the greater part of her history with The Order had been served onboard. She knew its layout like the back of her hand, at least as well as a fighter pilot could know the ship she was serving aboard. It hurt to see the Bastet in this state, but at the same time it was a weight lifted; when she had seen the reactor core go critical after a direct hit from one of the Nomad battleships, everyone assumed the worst. They had seen a flash of light, an explosion, and by the time they could see clearly again it was gone. Everyone assumed that the blast had disintegrated the Bastet; apparently it had just been thrown away from the battle, disappearing into the cloud. It had probably drifted, lifeless, until finally jamming up against the asteroid it now embraced.
"I need to send a report back to my commanders, maybe we can get someone out here to help."
Within an hour Arya had a reply from the Colonel: a repair ship was en-route, already dispatched from the salvage operation at Lisbon station.
"Command is sending a repair crew out to aid us. With their equipment and help we should be able to patch the Bastet up enough to jump it to one of our stations." Arya crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently, studying the derelict, "Do you have EVA suits? I want to get over there and see what we can do while we wait for the Repair ship to show up."
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