CANAISIS ∞ Chronicle One ∞ 2: A Captain's Journey

53 ∞ Slag and Holes

"Canaisis, prioritize all systems that suffered hard damage, then tell me where to start first and what tools I need to bring. I'm heading to the machine room now."

"You should rest, Captain."

"I will, but not right now."

"Aye, Captain. Navigation Long Range Telescopes suffer from misalignment. I'm compensating, but I'd feel better with my vision restored."

"I agree, Canaisis. Especially after what just happened. Alright, I'll take the nearest airlock from the machine room and walk from there. We need to come up with something better for moving around the hull, that's for sure, since it's just you and me."

"I'll put some thought to it, Captain. Given time, I can assume autonomous control of all systems, but as long as we're in this system, I feel time is of the essence after what just happened."

"You and me both."

Suiting up once again was not a joy to him like it usually was. He'd been wearing a suit too much these last few days, resulting in uncomfortable chafe spots. When the airlock cycled and the outer door opened, the stars of the Universe greeted him. He gave the stars the recognition of respect they deserved, a salute, then focused on his duty.

He stepped out onto the hull, his boots anchoring him, and he turned his gaze toward the rear of the ship. The engines' exhaust nozzles glowed a dull red as they cooled, with the engines shut down for his space-walk. Past them, he saw the brightest star in the expanse, Sol. Then he found the small marbles that were Earth and Luna. Earth was a dark murky ball barely visible in the blackness, and it evoked emotions he couldn't describe. Clenching his jaw, he reminded himself that he was Captain, and that made him focus on both his ship and what he was doing.

The walk forward was a long one, and the curve of Canaisis' central hull blocked his view of the bow. Holding onto the toolbox in his right hand, he concentrated on making sure he had magnetic lock at each step, his breath loud in his helmet. Space-walking was something he did routinely, and it felt good to be doing something familiar.

Just before the crest of the central bulge of Canaisis' hull, the blackening of the hull began. Gareth swept his helmet lights from side to side as he stepped forward, examining the damage. He'd expected as much.

But the sight from atop the crest shocked him. Sol shedded enough illumination for him to see how extensive the damage was. The entire bow was one giant mess of slag and scorched metal. Sections had holes gaping where the metal had melted inward.

His heart ached at how bad it was.

"Oh, Canaisis, what have you done to yourself?" He spoke aloud without thinking.

"I did what I had to, Captain. It's not as bad as it looks."

"The hell you say!" he shouted in dismay, his exhaustion temporarily forgotten. "I'm looking at areas with complete primary hull failure! If the secondary hull hadn't held, you'd be dead, Canaisis! Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes, I do, Captain. The risk was necessary for the success of the Mission. Repairs can be made."

"Yes, they can be. But not during flight—I won't risk it or you. We're making repairs before we go FTL, do you hear me? And don't you ever do this again! Or withhold from me just how bad the damage is!"

"Aye, Captain, I hear you. Where would you suggest we gather materials?"

That halted Gareth's emotional reaction and made him think. Where was there a safe place? The asteroid belt was out—no telling what automated system sat waiting to launch an attack. It was too easy to hide a weapons platform inside the asteroid belt, and darn near impossible to detect. Jupiter, Saturn, and their moons had been heavily developed when he left Sol three hundred Earth years ago—no telling how much had changed there since then, either. Right now, any place of civilization could be a threat.