Randolph Lalonde - Fragments

"So we’re getting torn apart by pirates?"

"No, we’re getting nailed by some corp who wants to collect on a bounty or some kind of repo."

"That’s one big repo. Wonder what the pay’s like.

“Let’s just say big.”

“So, um,” Hatter started as he inspected his fighter.

“Yeah?” Buster prompted. She hated when he started a thought and just left it hanging for seconds or minutes at a time.

“So this disruption pulse, the one they used to kill our wormhole, if it can burst a bubble that big, with that much directional force, could they like put out a sun?”

“Nope, that’s way off scale.”

“Off scale?”

Buster shook her head and replied; "Okay, disrupting a wormhole is like blowing out a candle. Disrupting a sun is like putting out a fusion reaction bare handed."

"Ah, gotcha. Okay so how did they find something moving through a wormhole? I mean, I could do the math, but there's always the curve, you know? A chance that your target isn't moving in a straight line or the space you're targeting is so different on the inside that you can't predict what'll happen if you try to pop it."

"Wormholes don't move."

"Yeah, I know. Triton’s wormholes are created ahead and behind, compressing space between and the ship moves through, blah, blah. But how did they find us? I mean, Ash's pretty good at the stick and everything."

"They found us because we're moving very slowly with only half our main thrusters and because they probably have a micro wormhole generator that was able to extend their scanning range," Buster replied as she started climbing into her cockpit.

"Sounds expensive."

"Yup, it's expensive. I don't know if Triton has that kind of tech."

"But we just got a hyper transmitter, same thing, right?"

Hood dropped into his cockpit seat and sighed. "It's in how you use it. If I set you up with a hyper transmitter that could pop a thousand micro wormholes a second would you know how to pair it with the sensors so you could take that many pictures?"

"No, but I bet Finn would. Guy's some kind of genius."

"I've met him, he's a hard working tech with a good head on his shoulders. Chief Grady says; 'go crawl down that deep, dark shaft.' and he says; 'yessir. Can I bring my bed roll, sir?' You've got to respect his dedication. I don't think he sleeps either, just lives on stims and meal bars."

"Sounds like he made an impression," Hood teased. "Planning a trip to the techie berths?"

All three of them were silent as they started their pre-flight diagnostics and their cockpit canopies sealed.

Buster couldn't help but feel strange being all alone in the two seat Uriel fighter. "You know I don't fraternize. Just because Captain seems to think giving in to our hormones aboard ship will help us relax doesn't mean I have to follow suit."

"What's wrong? Have a flameout with someone on your last ship?"

Buster would have hated her callsign if it didn't sound so good. Sonya had been named thusly after waking up the Wing Commander and reporting evidence of nocturnal activities near her bunk. He had her point out the offending bunks and all he did was ensure that the privacy curtains sound dampening systems were activated then went back to bed after giving her a grin and a thumb’s up. She wasn’t aware of Wing Commander Minh Chu’s offbeat sense of humour until then.

She was embarrassed and irritated by his solution. Hatter, of all people, was the one to point out that ship policy allowed fraternization while off duty. He spread the word that she'd bust couples sharing a bunk if they left their sound dampeners off or curtains open. Before she knew it, Buster had been laser etched onto the side of her starfighter. "I'm not going to dignify that question with an answer, Hatter."

"It wasn't very dignified in the first place, but whatever."

Their diagnostic cycles completed and the fighters were moved down from the track into the punter. In the dim light all Buster could see through her cockpit window was the thick launch bay hatch.

"I know why you took me on this mission, I'm your Sensor Intercept Officer and an experienced pilot, but why did you snag Hatter?" asked Hood on a private channel.

"Hatter's got reflexes beyond the curve and he’s a savant at compression mechanics. He calculated a wormhole manually for his final qualification and he's got his FTL ticket."

"Wow. I haven't calculated a jump manually since college. Even then, it was table top, not in a sim. How'd he get his ticket anyway?"

"Ask Ronin. Something in his file convinced him he could be trusted with a fighter equipped with a faster than light system. Hell, he's even cleared for shuttle and drop ship service."

"I'm not cleared for drop ship service. I wonder what Ronin knows about him that we're not cleared for?"

"This is Ronin we're talking about. He's a friendly mystery wrapped in a weird little wise package. It's like flying beside a Zen master who's one bottle short of a six pack."

Hatter burst out laughing. "But I think everyone likes him, and he can lick anyone in a simulator while spouting off proverbs. He's a rare one."

"Guys? My comm still working?" Hatter asked on the public channel.

"It's working fine, we're just deep in quiet contemplation," Buster replied.

"Couldn't help but notice there's no departure time set on this mission. Know how long we'll be here?"

Buster checked her command and control unit for status information from the bridge. "Looks like the Triton’s about to start decelerating, we could punt at any time."

The wounded on the bridge had been tended to, several of the staff had been replaced and the atmosphere was quiet, tense. Only a few small sections of the deck glowed red, emergency inertial dampeners had been installed to replace most of the burned out units. Everyone knew that there were three battlecruisers searching for them, that they were moving at great speed on a course that took them in a wide curve, and that the safe haven they sought could be more dangerous than their attackers.

Oz watched as the broad scale hologram began to display the Triton in relation to a pair of planetoids and a massive cluster of large asteroids behind.

"We have to slow down," Laura advised from her field control station.

"How much?"

"A lot more, relative speed of under one hundred klicks per second before we enter the dust cloud."

"Panloo?"

The nafalli finished listening to her navigator and nodded. "It will be close, I'm increasing our reverse thrust now."

"We're going to show up on their scanners like a small comet," Agameg advised. "They'll have our exact position."

"What about when we're deeper inside the micro-nebula?"

"Laura is right. If we are not moving slowly enough for our gravitational repulsion shield to move the dust away from the hull it will cause friction and we will look much like this, only smaller," Agameg brought up a hologram of the asteroid they were looking to touch down on. The leading side was red hot, behind it trailed scorching particles. "It's not actually a real comet, only a large asteroid in a group that's moving through the nebula and colliding with dust and gas, causing friction and a great deal of heat."

"What kind of dust is it? Any chance of mass combustion?"

"No, it's only an interstellar dust cloud. In nine years it'll be absorbed by a planetoid."

"Lucky we found it here then," Oz watched the holodisplays as a counter came up, indicating that they'd be entering the miniature nebula in less than ten seconds. With a glance he could see they were still moving a little too fast. He looked to Liam Grady's holographic representation to his right. "How are the thrusters?"