He distracted himself from the injustice by watching the status bar on the atmosphere controls display crawl along until it reached its end, and he took a deep breath in through his nose. It was the freshest air they were likely to have for their voyage on the Arlen’s Bounty, and a marginal improvement from the stench that had pervaded before, but the smell was oozing from the ship’s seams. He suspected only a thorough overhaul and clean would sort it. If even then. He hit the intercom button.
‘All hands, prepare for power down. Mister Vachon, shut down the power plant at your earliest convenience.’
‘Aye, Lieutenant.’
‘Sidewinder, we are going dark. I’ll report in again in one hour.’
‘Acknowledged. Sidewinder out.’
The Bounty shuddered as the engine idled down to a stop. The lights grew dimmer and finally flickered out, something Samson had been expecting to happen ever since setting foot on the ship. He had to resist the urge to let out a spooky ‘whoooooo’—he didn’t reckon either Price or Harper, who were on the bridge with him, would appreciate it. He was coming to realise that most other people’s sense of humour had continued to develop after the age of fourteen. His, it seemed, had not. It wasn’t all bad, however. Without it, he doubted he’d have made it through the weeks after the mutiny or his Admiralty Board Review—the tribunal of investigation one level below a court martial, and the one that had recommended his reassignment to the edge of the known galaxy.
After a moment in absolute darkness, emergency lights came on, bathing the ship in a red glow. Samson wondered how long they would last.
‘Feel free to find a quiet spot to relax for the hour,’ Samson said. ‘I’ve nothing for you until we’re back up and running.’
Price and Harper cleared the bridge, leaving Samson alone in his little kingdom. The small bank of emergency batteries was wholly given over to running the carbon dioxide scrubbers and feeding power to the meagre emergency lights, so there would be no communication with the Sidewinder until the engine was back up and running. The artificial gravity unit held its charge similarly to a battery. They would all be a bit lighter on their feet by the time the engine powered up again as it slowly discharged, but they wouldn’t be floating around like freshman Naval Academy students getting their first experience of zero gravity.
If the Bounty didn’t start up again, they would be collected by the launch, and Samson’s first brief command would be blasted to pieces, a sacrifice to the Sidewinder’s underused weapons. He preferred the thought of prize money. Naval advancement required more than just ability and good fortune—the latter of which he’d not had a whole lot of so far. The means to effect the lifestyle of an officer and a gentleman was equally important—and he knew he would have to score on all counts to have any hope of getting a commission back in the Core.
Samson leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, imagining a modern bridge around him once again, all the stations crewed. The quiet hum of electrical systems and the drone of the engine were absent now, leaving almost complete silence. The ship groaned and creaked every so often as the artificial gravity pulled at her superstructure and the ship’s plates contracted as they cooled. It was a normal ship sound, but in one so old and poorly looked after as the Bounty, it was unnerving. Samson’s heart skipped each time he heard one. There was a rattle of space debris across the hull. With his eyes closed, and allowing his imagination to take control, he could almost mistake it for the sound of rain against his window at home. He allowed the sound to carry him to sleep.
‘Lieutenant.’
Samson opened his eyes. Despite the ship’s intermittent groans and the brevity of his slumber, he had enjoyed one of the best sleeps he had experienced in some time, and woke calm and relaxed.
‘Go ahead, Vachon.’
‘I’m ready to power up again on your order.’
‘Fire her up. Let’s see what we have to work with.’
He felt the ship judder, followed by the comforting thrum of an engine running nearby. The sound seemed more pronounced than it had when he first came aboard, and as the engine settled into its rhythm, the ship started to feel alive again. The lights came on, far brighter than before, and alarms went off on several control panels as their systems powered back up. He checked his command console. Already they had seventy percent of maximum operating power for that engine.
‘Excellent work, Mister Kushnir. Seventy percent already.’
‘Aye, Lieutenant. Thank you. She’s not in too bad a way. I should be able to get her back to over eighty percent by the time I’m done. You’re free to get underway as soon as you need to.’
‘What about the agitator?’
‘Looks fine. I think it was shut down to save on power drain. I’ll initialise it now and start charging its capacitors.’
‘Perfect. Bounty to Sidewinder.’ He silently counted to five and frowned. ‘Bounty to Sidewinder. Come in, Sidewinder.’
He ran a quick diagnostic on the communications system, but it was working perfectly. Nevertheless, he rebooted it and tried again. Still nothing. He stood from his chair and walked to the viewport. The Sidewinder had been alongside, so despite his best effort, he couldn’t see from the forward-facing viewport on the bridge.
‘Lieutenant Harper, can you come to the bridge? We need to get the full sensor suite running.’
A nervous sensation started to develop in his gut, similar to when he had been called to appear before the Naval Academy’s commodore for one of his various youthful works of malfeasance. There was no
