Week 6 - Raising the Stakes

"Sir!", Jerry yelled over the warning alarm, "active scan from a hyperspace buoy off our starboard quarter! The raider’s opening aft torpedo tubes and preparing to fire!"

"Helm, full dive, Countermeasures ready!"

Vic slammed the hyperdrive control forward just as two torpedos lanced out from the raider, screaming towards them. The Powell’s reactor surged to life, plunging the ship deep into hyperspace. With only limited power, the torpedos couldn’t match the sudden dive, sailing though the space previously occupied by the destroyer and harmlessly off into space.

The hull screamed under the enormous stresses it was suddenly subjected to. An electric sizzle joined the chaos, quickly followed by a choking odor of ozone, as the main lights failed, leaving the command deck soaked in red emergency lighting. The ship heaved to the left with a loud bang, as additional warning sirens began blaring.

"Explosive decompression! C-Deck!", Jerry yelled, as a gale of wind started rushing off the command deck. Alice, on her feet behind Vic’s helm position, was sucked off her feet, flying back through the command deck forwards the deck hatch.

Alan reached for her through the darkness as she flew by, his fingers sliding off the toe of her boot. A rapid succession of thuds echoed through the ship, as emergency bulkheads flew shut.

As the bulkhead sealing the command deck slammed home, the tempest of wind instantly stopped. Alice did not; less than a second after being pulled from her feet, she slammed against the emergency bulkhead. She fell to the floor in agony, grasping the back of her neck.

The Powell careened deep into hyperspace. The raider tried to pursue, but her partially-retracted hypersails kept her from matching the dive.

Vic directed the ship just kilometers from Ganymede, slinging the ship past the moon. The hypersail masts flexed under the sudden surge of gravity as the Powell’s turned toward the Sun, tearing the ship away from Ganymede back, and rocketing them back towards the inner Solar System.

Alice, still trying to climb back to her feet, was again flung into the aft bulkhead by the extreme acceleration. Alan struggled to speak, as he was pressed into his chair. "Ease off Vic! We can’t take the shear this deep for long!"

Vic eased off of the hyperdrive and the ship rose back up to a cruising depth, careening out of the Jovian system and back towards the Belt. The crew let out a collective sigh of relief, and the Powell herself seemed to relax, as the immense forces of deep hyperspace relented.

Alice gingerly pulled herself to her feet. "Damage reports," she called, putting pressure on a fresh gash over her right eye.

Vic reviewed his console. "Mast number four appears to have a stress fracture. It will need replacement."

Alice limped over to her console, and reviewed similar reports from other areas of the ship. "The hangar door buckled, Captain. The emergency door failed to seal. Sections C-12 through C-15 are decompressed."

"The Marines…"

"They had already suited up for EV combat, thank god. They’re moving to the airlock at C-11 for a headcount."

"All right. Once they’re all accounted for, see if they can manually deploy the emergency door so we can repressurize those sections. Anything else?"

"Some minor hull buckling… and a few bumps and bruises, Cap. The hangar and the mast look like the worst of it."

"Jettison the mast, and set a course for Phobos station. If we can get the hangar repressurized, I doubt we’ll have time to replace the mast before we lead a battle group back to Ganymede."

Vic pressed a control, and the damaged hypersail sprang free from the ship. It fluttered briefly alongside the ship in hyperspace, then, without an energy source to hold it down, was ripped back into normalspace in a billion pieces.

Alan looked over at Alice. She was facing her console silently, still holding the cut on her forehead, her eyes closed.

"Commander, sit down."

"I’m fine, Captain… Three Marines are unaccounted for. We’ve got a visual of the C-12 now."

Alan punched a few keys on his console and pulled up cameras in the hangar deck. The Marine team was making their way back across the deck towards the emergency doors.

Zooming in, Alan realized why the hangar door failed to seal. The door stood attempted to slam shut, but was held open about 8 inches. A Marine combat armor helmet sat between the two doors, the faceshield shattered.

He watched as the commander of the Marine squad knelt briefly by the helmet. He grabbed the helmet and gave it a swift yank. The door completed it’s movement, and the Powell quickly started repressurizing the hangar deck.

Alan slammed his fist down on his armrest.

The crew did what repairs they could during the two hour transit back to the Martian system. If Captain Davis was right, they would likely have more repairs to do after their next trip to Jupiter.