Chapter 06: Intentional Harm

The Endurance broke through the final layers of the asteroid belt, shedding broken armor plating from the hull as it was struck by the remaining spatial rocks. The shaking subsided, and quiet settled upon the crew as they wondered if the ship would explode after all the damage it had taken. A few tense moments passed in silence before the crew realized they had survived. Organized chaos erupted as they began a full check of all systems.

My eyes were fixated on Philip. I knew what he'd done, but I couldn't for the life of me comprehend why. The synth had deliberately steered the ship into the asteroid.

"Philip," I said to him. "We need to speak in the hall."

"If your intention is to require an answer of me for my actions," Philip calmly replied, "it would be best to do it here where everyone may be informed at the same instant. I'm certain the crew would like to hear the answers as much as you do."

"Very well," I agreed. "Why did you deliberately ram that asteroid?"

Silence filled the room as the crew halted what they were doing. All eyes and ears focused on the two of us.

"It was the only way to save the ship," Philip stated.

"I think we're going to need more than that," I prompted.

"As you wish," Philip conceded. Switching a few controls on his console, he linked the primary hologram with every display screen still functioning throughout the ship and turned on the intercom. "During our run through the asteroid belt, an alarm was triggered. The primary fuel lines had not been flushed after our time at Mars station."

The hovering image of the Endurance lit up along the path of the conduits linking the main refueling port with the individual engine fuel tanks. Philip pressed a button and replayed the passage through the asteroid belt, pausing it at the moment of the alarm signal.

"It was at this point we became aware of the problem," Philip continued like a professor teaching a class. "If I had avoided the asteroid, here is the result."

On the hologram, the Endurance turned hard and missed the giant rock, only to be struck by a smaller one. Although the damage was minimal, the fuel line was breached. A chain reaction followed the flammable material in the conduit like a fuse until it reached the individual fuel tanks, setting off secondary explosions. The Endurance was torn apart, scattering into thousands of burning fragments.

"Here is another," Philip stated.

The image reset back to its original position, and the simulation began again. The ship dodged in a different direction, but the results were the same. Over and over, Philip replayed the scenario, applying different tactics to avoid the large asteroid, but every attempt led to the fuel line rupture and the destruction of the ship.

As I watched the simulations, I marveled at Philip's piloting skill and clear judgment. He'd seen the problem, and before anyone could even react, he'd analyzed every permutation, deciding on the one that caused the least amount of harm. I'd been in disbelief over his actions, but after seeing all the angles, some of which I'd never considered, I not only accepted his reasoning, but I agreed with it. Although it looked disastrous at the time, the crash had been the best possible outcome, and I was relieved Philip had been piloting and not me.

I stood from my chair and offered a hand to Philip. The synthetic pilot shook my hand firmly in recognition of my acceptance. Directing my eyes to the crew, I saw them nodding their approval as they also came to terms with Philip's choice.

"Alright people," I announced, focusing my crew back on their jobs. "We need a full systems check. I want to know what's working. Anything broken, I want to know if it can be fixed, patched, or salvaged. Repair teams are to focus on breaches in the hull. It doesn't have to pass a formal inspection, but I don't want to be halfway to Jupiter only to find out we've been leaking atmosphere. All breaks in electrical conduits, fuel lines, atmospheric vents, water storage tanks, and thermal regulation systems need to be addressed as soon as possible. We've taken tremendous damage, and the Endurance is hemorrhaging. If we don't get these things sealed up, we won't last long. Base construction teams, head to the launch bays. Let's move, people!"

The crew broke from their stationary positions as they immediately set about the tasks designated as the responsibilities for their department.

Leaving the central hologram room, I headed down the corridor. Taking the second passage on my right, followed by the third on the left, I navigated the network of hallways to reach one of the many construction ship launch bays. Used for building stations in deep space, on moons, or planetary surfaces, the small crafts filling the room were highly maneuverable and extremely powerful for their compact size.

The body of each rectangular vessel was wide and flat, and a circular hatch in the center of the dorsal section was the only thing identifying the location of the cockpit. Mounted on the far ends of the craft, canister shaped engines provided primary propulsion. Secondary thrusters, housed in smaller tubes on either side of the cockpit hatch, offered maneuvering capabilities and additional speed for hauling heavier loads. All ten of the ships rested in deep alcoves in the walls and under the floor. A large hole in the middle of the floor, affixed with a ladder, provided access to the lower level.

I approached the first craft and pulled a recessed lever to open the cockpit hatch. It hissed as the locks and air seal released. The round hatch raised up two inches and split into quarters, each rotating around a pivot point on its outermost edge to swivel out of the way. I grabbed a U shaped hand grip mounted under the rim of the hatch and used it to support my weight as I climbed in feet first. I slid down onto a small but well padded seat and buckled myself in.

Dressed in the blue uniforms of the engineering division, nine of my crew entered the launch bay and boarded their own ships.

Activating a control, I sealed the cockpit. The four sections above my head swiveled back together before the completed hatch retracted down into the hull. A toggle switch turned on the main power systems with a reverberating hum. Status display screens lit up, as did the optics illuminating the various dials, controls, and gauges around me.

Utilizing anti-gravity systems when aboard ship or on a planet surface, my construction vessel lifted slightly off the ground. Vertical bars in front of my ship prevented it from sliding out due to impacts or vibrations, but a press of a button deactivated the support rods and lowered them out of the way.

Taking a firm grip on the navigational control stick, I kept it from moving as I advanced the throttle slightly. The engine ports of my craft glowed blue, and I glided smoothly out of the pocket where my ship had been housed and into the middle of the bay. Reducing speed to zero, I turned a dial to amplify antigravity thrust and rise toward the ceiling.

Identical in size to the hole in the center of the floor, another opening resided above, but it was blocked by the glowing green of a bimolecular membrane. The transparent barrier allowed my ship to pass through without resistance, but it kept the atmosphere contained in the bay as the outer doors were opened.

As I pushed forward on the throttle, my ship glided smoothly down a tunnel and out into space. Display screens mounted in front of me showed the endless depths of space surrounding my small craft, making me feel infinitesimal by comparison. Directing thrust to the side, I banked left and performed a wide loop to fly around and get a better look at the Endurance.

The situation looked very bleak. A massive crater had caved in a portion of the most forward pointing section of the rounded hull. Side panels had been completely sheered away by the asteroid's passing after the initial impact. Internal structure was visible, accented by the intense blue flashes of plasma welders as repair crews already worked to undo the damage. The Endurance reminded me of a decaying corpse, flesh missing and bones underneath showing through.

I shifted my attention away from the catastrophic damage, focusing instead on doing something about it. From other bays across the ship, more construction vessels launched and joined those around me to form a rapidly growing fleet. Turning on the communication array, I broadcast to all the construction ships.

"Our purpose out here," I explained, "is to collect and bring back as much of the torn away hull plating as possible. Any of it we salvage can be used in repairs. The faster we get the Endurance moving again, the better our chances of success. Move out."

The fleet broke formation, tracking different pieces of broken metal plating. I selected one twice the size of my ship, but I knew the specifications of the vessel were more than up to the task. I'd reviewed the schematics for dozens of different models before selecting this one. Its power and maneuverability were superior to others of its size, but it didn't use cables or mechanical arms to accomplish its tasks.

Gravity lines were installed in rows on the underside of each construction ship. When positioned near the object intended for capture, gravity waves were projected towards it to draw the item in. Focus of the gravity projection could be fine tuned to tether one finger sized bolt out of a floating cloud of a hundred. The metal plate I was after measured significantly larger. I hovered above it and activated the gravity link. It grabbed the plate with an invisible hand and pulled it up against the underside of my ship with a slight thump.

Tilting the control stick to the right, I directed my ship back toward the Endurance. The engines hummed louder, and my seat shook slightly as the demand on the engines increased. Carrying the heavy load required extra output, and streaks of intense blue energy flared from the engines.

As I cruised back toward the ship, I watched the telemetry data on my screens, slowing to a stop in the right position before cutting power to the gravity system. The plate released and hovered weightless where the repair teams could reach it when needed.

Pitching around, I sped back toward the debris trail the Endurance had left in its wake. Resembling a swarm of bees, the construction ships were busy flying from one spot to another, finding metal pieces, bringing them back, and dropping them off as I had done.

After half an hour of intense effort, the amount of debris for salvage started becoming sparse. Leaving the work in the capable hands of my crew, I piloted my ship back to the Endurance to check on the other departments. I docked my construction ship, powering down its systems and engaging the support bars to hold it in place. Climbing out and resealing the hatch, I adopted a brisk pace out of the launch bay.

The non-gravity tube I wanted to take to the next level had been closed to seal a hull breach in a nearby section, so I ducked down and entered a maintenance crawlspace. Cramped by anyone's standard of measurement, the service passage had originally been designed for small mechanical repair bots, but they'd been canceled when the project budget had been slashed. Having been built before the financial complication, we decided to leave the narrow shafts in place, and they were coming in very useful for teams trying to bypass damaged sections of the ship.

I emerged near an engineering substation where two of my primary officers were hard at work, organizing and coordinating the repair teams spread throughout the ship and across the hull.

My first encounter with Lydia Turner had been unique. I'd been reviewing the records of many different qualified officers, testing them with various repair situations to see which one was best qualified for the position of chief mechanic. In one test, the candidates were given an extensive repair problem, which they solved by disassembling part of an engine line to reach the malfunctioning component. Average time had been near an hour. Lydia practiced martial arts to keep fit, and her training came in useful as she'd nimbly squeezed between the pipes and bulkhead to reach the problem area and make the repair in under ten minutes.

Tall and swift, the Asian woman wore a blue uniform of the engineering department. Her jet black hair hung down to the middle of her back in a straight ponytail from a high point on the back of her skull, and the strands shone silver under the overhead lights. Her focus stayed so completely on her task, she had yet to notice my presence, but neither had her fiancé who worked diligently at her side.

Also dressed in the royal blue uniform of engineering, Leo Porter was her exact opposite physically. Unlike her long black hair, Leo's was blond and cropped very short. Where Lydia was slender and agile, Leo was large and muscular. What he lack in mobility, he made up for in extreme resilience. I'd seen him hold up a section of conduit for six minutes during a simulated rescue operation that the other applicants hadn't even been able to lift.

Leo and Lydia worked well together and were a perfect match as their respective strengths were complimentary, filling in what the other lacked. After seeing their professionalism and teamwork in action during initial crew selection, I knew they would be an invaluable asset to the mission. They believed in what we were doing as much as I did and were dedicated to the cause. They'd both volunteered to put off their wedding until after the mission was completed. My respect for their dedication had raised my admiration for them even further.

"What's the situation here?" I asked, gaining their attention.

Leo was in charge of structural engineering, overseeing the design of the ship and the setups of the colony stations. Although his mechanical skills were equal to Lydia, he deferred to her as the chief mechanic.

"We've isolated the primary leakages in the atmospheric lines and power systems, but we lost a considerable amount of reserves," Lydia explained. She checked the small data pad in her hand. "Hull restoration is underway. Estimated time of completion is under an hour."

"Excellent," I congratulated them on their efficient progress. "What are our chances of continuing?"

"I don't really know," Lydia answered honestly. She looked to Leo.

"We've taken severe damage to multiple engines, some of which we've lost entirely," he explained. "This will slow our progress to Jupiter. Combined with the depressurization in several areas, causing massive atmospheric loss, we may be able to reach Jupiter, but I don't know if we'll be alive when we get there."