Operation S.A.L.V.A.T.I.O.N.

Chapter 8: The Discovery

The clanking of the metal hook on the end of my rope is lost in the airlessness of space as wires spark and air hisses in spurts from leaks in the hull. I pull hard on my rope, ensuring it's secure, then hook it to my belt and activate the retraction device. Now if I move away or float closer, the rope will carry with me, staying out of my way.

I lift my arm and click the device strapped to my forearm. It blinks to life, showing a complete schematic of the Stardust. Flashing in red is the part of the hull that was torn apart. I click on the red and it zooms in to reveal the lowest rotating disc. I click again and the view intensifies to the torn hole, highlighting a section in yellow, fifty feet down from where I am now. 

That's my section. And the countdown timer is already very short on time. I have twenty minutes to fix the leaks in a twenty by twenty-foot area or else the hallways on the other side will implode, tearing the ship apart further.

Oh, brother.

I hit the button the the retractor and my head snaps back as I'm shot along the corridor. I time it right and hit the release button right as I reach the hook in the wall. The rope releases tension and pulls out as I speed along with my momentum. I reach my area and stop myself abruptly with the automatic stop on my rope and a hand against the hull to steady myself.

I return the rope to its automatic setting and plant my feet against the hull, flicking a switch on my helmet. Its window flickers and the schematics from my arm computer transfer to the glass. Fine yellow lines outline my designated square, the leaks highlighted in flashing red. 

There are 15. If I work as fast and as accurately as humanly possible, it'll take 4 minutes each. 4x15=60, or 1 hour! I have 1/3 of that time. 4٪3.33 is 1 minute and 20 seconds. The numbers fly through my head in a matter of milliseconds and I don't even dare to think that 1 minute and 20 seconds is impossible.

I grab my tool and start on the first, hammering away like my life depends on it. The welding torch seals the crack and a couple of metal pins later, the first danger is mended. I move on to the next, then the next, not thinking, just moving. I hear the muffled curses and shouted exchanges of my buddies as they all experience the same hurried rush as me, but I don't focus on that. I drown out everything else, hammering away and trying to ignore my dry, labored breathing.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Beeeeeeeeeeep!!!

I blink and slowly draw a breath to slow down my breathing. Is that clapping I hear? My arm burns from fatigue as I lower the hammer and switch off the annoying beep of my arm monitor, telling me I've completed the assignment. Then I slowly turn around. Everyone is gathered around each other, slapping one another on the shoulders or knocking their helmets together as they cheer and yell.

We made it. We made it!

We sealed all the cracks in time and saved the ship! 

A heavy breath whooshes past my lips as the realization pours a wave of relief through me, bringing with it heavy exhaustion. A slap on my shoulder makes me look up and can't help but grin as I come face to face with Pete, smiling like an idiot. 

"That was crazy, man!" he yells in my earpiece. "We made it!"

I nod, still breathless and unable to answer, but I knock my helmet against his in celebration. A couple other workers pat me on the back and then our intercoms hisses slightly as it switches to a different channel.

"This is your captain speaking. Well done, men."

I look at Pete with round eyes and he looks like he just saw a ghost, mouthing the captain? at me. I shrug.

"I understand you must all be tired, and I have made arrangements for you to be brought in through the airlock in the hallway above you. It's the closest operational one and will save you the long climb back up the outside of the station. Again, well done." The com clicks off.

A relieved sigh ebbs through the men, mine included, though I feel a bit of a loss at the chance to see the nova again. We make our way out of the tunnel of destruction and hook our cables to the hull around the airlock twenty feet above us. I'm one of the last to get let through, with only Pete and five other guys behind me. We're the last group. The airlock gets shut and locked by the security personnel assigned to retrieve us, and the air is pressurized. 

The hiss is welcoming and I breathe out when my feet touch the ground, my body slowly returning to its normal functions in gravity and resetting, allowing me to breathe a little better. The inner door opens and I click the latch on my helmet, heaving it off my head. My arms scream at me from the unwelcome excursion.

All 150 or more of us stand aimlessly in the hallway, not sure what to do. We've never been down this far before. Something about the lower levels being higher-up access only. 

"Follow me." The head of security personnel herds us along, with his men in the front and behind the large group, some dispersed along the middle on both sides. I lose Pete in the fray but it doesn't bother me, I can catch up with him later and right now I'm way too exhausted to even raise my head, let alone talk.

We continue to trudge down the halls, all of us exhausted to the point of barely being able to keep our feet, the sound of harsh breathing, and dragging boots all around me.

I'm hardly present mentally, my helmet barely hanging from my fingers as I stumble behind the other workers, head hanging low and breathing harsh in my head. The pounding of my heart drowns out even the sound of the group's heavy footsteps. Soon I find myself at the back of the group.

I raise my tired eyes, not knowing why I suddenly get the urge to do so. We're still in the black hallways of the lower levels, so different than the ones up above...

Wait.

Black corridors, in the lower levels, which also means behind all the locked doors and extra security measures! Wow.

I look to the right as the hallway wall changes to glass and I see a wide circular room with many instruments and scientific-looking equipment and flashing lights, too numerous to catch all at one glance, but my gaze immediately draws to the large, shipping container-sized box at the other end of the room, its walls all glass. It's empty except for a white cot and a silver toilet bowl hanging on the wall. Like a prison.

And on the bed...

Times seem to slow down as the blood rushes to my ears, my heart skipping a beat before starting up again with such speed I think I might have a heart attack.

She's lying on her stomach, one arm hanging limp over the side of the cot, fingertips nearly brushing the tile floor. The other arm is pinned beneath her, cradling her ribs. Her dark hair is splayed chaotically around her head and over the pillow, hiding her face, but I can just make out her parted lips. There's blood oozing out from between them, slowly trailing down the edge of the pillow and onto the mattress, painfully vivid against the white bedding. The crimson froths slightly with every ragged intake and exhale of air, the unsteady rising of her back the only movement to her frail frame.

Before I can form any coherent thoughts or anything really, the glass walls stop and she's lost to my sight. I inhale sharply and blink to clear my vision, my heart refusing to slow down. What did I just witness?

And there you guys have it! Finally, the part I wrote almost at the beginning of the story but I had to wait to share it with you guys. 

Things are going to pick up real fast here soon, and I hope you're ready to be taken on a rollercoaster because I am!!

Let's go!!!

Best wishes,

LiethaS