FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Jackson was just one of nine marines in the room putting their suits on, colored with the warm blue and pale white of the Inner Ring Police Force. Such colors were all over the ship, mostly for guiding individuals down the hallway. A murmur was pacing around him. Eight space marines of his nine vector squad putting on boarding armor, getting weapons, checking equipment, and reading their mission orders; marines preparing for battle are not quiet. Communications check with the tenth of their squad member, their operator who wouldn't leave the ship but provide ship readings such as radar, ladar, bio-sensors, and other sensitive equipment as well as their combined suit computer information. All in an effort to coordinate their actions as three vector fire-teams moved to secure the ship.

Jackson's armor wasn't merely some ballistic weave and heavy metallic plating of alloys foreign to him; It had sensors, three separate computers, hydraulics to support itself, and even an air supply to consider. He had to put it on two halves at a time, standing on the arming platform as the cranes maneuvered into position. He placed his four feet upon the indicated spots illuminated by the holographic mannequin of himself, positioning his arms in the strange t-pose with his hands open and pointing his digits towards the floor, creating a pair of square corners. He felt his heartbeat increase in speed a bit in his chest, and his second heart down inside his lower body followed suit.

He was the largest marine here, but that was due to the 8% population he was a part of: Taurism, a genetic variation of Vectors. It was unknown if humanity had created it on purpose, or if it was just a strange genetic mutation giving others in the animal kingdom sentience and humanoid bodies. What was known is roughly two in twenty-five of natural born Vectors would be born with four legs and a lower body of the original creature they were spliced from, and the upper body would be humanoid.

Jackson let out a sigh as the computer finished lining up its holographic program to his body. The floor around the platform withdrew and started bringing out his armor in two halves, a shell of ballistic and environmental protection. The computer checked all the sensors with him outside of it to make sure the suit was ready. Its power supply read 98%. Oxygen read 100%. Suit integrity pre-seal registered as 100%. His rapid sealant tank was full as well. He took a deep breath to brace himself for the part he hated. With his eyes closed he spoke, "Confirm position computer, begin sealing process."

The suit came together around him by the power of the machinery holding it with clamps. More than a thousand tiny self-sealing screws and tiny gears whirled together to attach the two halves into a single piece of armor. Jackson was enclosed in total darkness for a few moments and for those moments he felt fear, anxiety, and helplessness. Genuinely the only time he ever felt hopeless were these moments when the suit was powering up or ran out of power. Lights cut on in the helmet and relief washed over him. His heart rates were much higher than normal, so much higher.

"Jackson, are you alright? Your heart rates are awfully high to just be in the armory." Talya, his operator and commanding officer was speaking into his closed radio channel. Only to him, at least until she was certain he would need someone to intervene.

His canine ears flicked a few times to adjust to their new confinement, searching for the sound. The glass covering his eyes untinted into a solid visor from cheekbone to cheekbone, giving him as much vision as possible, save for his muzzle and the very edges of the helmet visor segment. "Yeah, I'm doing wonderful today, just excited. Happens every time I put the suit on. How are you?" He just didn't want her to worry and he was genuinely happy now that he could see again.

The mechanical arms pulled away, and Jackson felt the weight of the armor finally press down upon him as the powered systems took over to assist his movement. He took a few steps off the platform and shifted his weight between each of his four legs to make sure nothing was wrong.

"Jackson, what do you think? This owl warning real? You really think some extinct birds can destroy us?" Keller, his tag-mate interrupted the conversation with their operator by punching his mechanically armored shoulder.

Jackson turned his head to his friend Keller. The taur dingo had quite a bit of love for Keller, the team's seal. As in a vector who was a seal, not some military designation. There were an unforgettable number of times Keller had pulled his butt out of a fire, or in three cases, out of the water before he drowned. Though the arf and bark jokes they used to grind on each other's nerves were a priceless point for the squad.

"Oi! Do not say shit like that."

Keller turned to the voice that called to the two of them. It came from their sergeant, Helen. She was built like a tank, considering she was a rhinoceros; this wasn't an idle jest to say that anti-material weapons might be preferred to take her out. She disconnected her helmet and glared at the two of them. Dark red scarring on the face around her lip and neck was more prominent against the blue and white armor than normal.

"We don't joke about owls, remember that you two." She snarled and got in both Jackson's and Keller's face, crossing the distance to them much faster than her bulky frame would indicate she was capable of. "Do you two understand, newbies?"

Jackson gave a sharp salute and even smiled, "Yes, ma'am." He called out, rarely if ever seeming unable to smile or be happy. He was simply appreciative that the sergeant had the decency to pay attention to the conversation of their squad. Though, he was also glad that Helen couldn't see his face through the helmet. She genuinely terrified him.

Keller rolled his pitch black eyes, do not ask how but they certainly could tell he was rolling his eyes. If not for the muscle movement of his brows and cheeks, one would never know he had done such a thing. The big rhino man brought his hand up to Jackson's shoulder and squeezed, letting the cybernetic limb apply more pressure than even the strongest Vector could. "An owl is why I'm here, and an owl is why this arm exists. We don't joke about owls, got it, private first class?"

Keller let out a grunt of pain and snarled, "I'm a corporal, sergeant."

With a jerk, Helen brought him close to her and whispered, "If you keep up with the owl talk, you will find I can fix that quickly."

Jackson stepped between them, pressing his hands on each of their chests while using his larger lower body to block any further interaction. "How about you two save this for the pirates we are here to take, yeah?"

Keller nodded. Helen started to speak, then held her thought. "You're right Corporal, I should make use of my anger. You got a good head on your shoulders." Helen turned to speak to Keller when the intercom interrupted any conversation.

"Brace for Imp--" The speaker never got to finish as the ship was ripped away from under them.

Each of the marines found themselves being hurled into space. Those with their armor still off never had a chance as they began to gasp for air, only for their eyes to bulge out, their bodies begin to freeze, and their blood begin to boil. Exposure to vacuum was a painfully slow and suddenly assured death. Jackson bashed his head against the bulkhead as the gravity plating gave him no leverage, and suddenly blackness welcomed him into oblivion.

*****

Jackson took in a breath. He was alive. He felt weightless, floating somewhere as his eyes opened. Hazey at first, and with a splitting headache that could only be matched if someone had fired his ancient M2 heavy machine gun for hours next to his head. His instinct made him reach to his side when he thought of his weapon. The old, well maintained weapon was still at his side; held to him by a heavy artificial leather strap. Exposure to vacuum did not matter to the vast majority of firearms, but without gravity plating or a planetary body, the recoil could propel him in just about any direction.

Jackson took a moment to run a diagnostic on his suit. Other than the massive dent in his helmet which now pressed one of the plates uncomfortably against the back of his skull, it was fine. He took a slow look around, giving his suit's thrusters a test. They released particle gas at the measured rate his brain requested to allow himself to slowly turn and examine his surroundings. He was in the middle of wreckage that used to be his patrol class vessel-Its name no longer mattered. Jackson hoped his squadmates died quickly as he counted their bodies drifting in the cold void. All eight of the individuals that had been in the room with him, were now clearly dead. The transmission for their suits showed no vitals and the ones he could see, never got a chance to put their helmet's on.

His brain was racing, trying to figure out a solution to his predicament. Jackson wasn't the brightest bulb in a room but he was still a trained marine and spacer. "Ivy," Jackson called the suit computer A.I. "Run a sensor scan for somewhere with air or any radio signals."

He would have to solve his problems of survival. This meant a few things to him. Living creatures required air, water, and food for basic survival. For advanced survival, they require hope, a place to dispose of waste, and something to keep their mind occupied or entertained. He would get the basic part done then worry about the rest.

He checked the air in his suit. It would last for another six hours before he would start on his recycle, which the filter would go for roughly forty hours until he would suffocate. This was good; he had almost a full two days to find somewhere with the basics or get a signal out and hope for rescue. His suit chimed into his thoughts after a few moments.

"Wreckage holds one section still with power and probable air due to shape and electronic signature." A compass marker appeared on the H.U.D. as his motion tracker switched from a flat line to a 3D radar system and marked the location of what his suit had picked up. It was the only EM signature that was both stable and appeared with an object that showed signs of pressure pushing out against the metal. His suit detecting the pressure being pushed against the metal was a sign of atmosphere. He started to direct his thrusters towards the compass marker.

He couldn't see his destination yet. Ship wreckage of all shapes and sizes floated around him. Bodies spun, suspended in the vacuum. The isolation was pricking the edge of his mind, but he pushed it away while focusing on his task, using his hands and feet to maneuver past the fragments of what was once his home.

He kicked off a piece larger than his body for leverage and immediately slammed on his thrusters, a wave of bright purple blasting at him. He barely avoided igniting tanks of nitrogen-plasma he passed. The piece of ship he sought was spinning on his motion tracker butt he couldn't see it. All of these fragments slowly orbited with what was once the frame of a vessel, now acting as a tomb. A jet of green-blue flame whisked past him from the leaking tank he was trying to avoid. He still wasn't sure how long he had been unconscious, but apparently not long enough for this plasma bank to empty or there was a delayed rupture to it.

The gout of superheated death wouldn't have hurt his armor, but it would have cooked him inside the suit within just a few seconds if he was inside of it, turning his protection into a thousand celsius oven in the process. He gulped and waited for the plasma to slowly turn away and propel itself out of range before crossing his next gap towards his goal. His thoughts made him smile; he was glad to be alive and that his reactions had saved him. HIs glass was getting slightly fuller. If he could just make it to the chamber, that might prove to be his salvation. It never even occurred to him that he might get there and not be able to get inside, or that it might just prolong the moments he had until he suffocated.

He took in a breath to cool his nerves and continued into the silence. Space was always eerie like that; you heard the sounds inside your suit but never from outside. Without air to pass through, the sound simply never came into existence. That isn't to say that objects in space do not make noise. Quite the opposite; one could press two helmet visors together and shout to vibrate the glass in order to be heard without a radio.

Jackson continued to float through space, feeling himself getting more excited the closer he got to his goal. He could see it, a dim light coming out of a room floating in space. The room was clearly closed with the door sealed and the window on the door easily visible. It meant that somehow the blast door hadn't been closed and the glass was intact. He was a marine, not a naval tactician. He had no idea what could cause a set of lucky circumstances like this, but Jackson wasn't about to argue with good luck right now. He engaged his suit thrusters to cruise the rest of the way to his future refuge.

A clang echoed through his suit as he impacted against the intact room. It reverberated, the same sort of echo one would expect if air was kept inside a box held in a vacuum. This metal box still had air. Jackson grabbed onto a piece of metal that once acted as a ladder to the decks above and below. With a final effort, he hoisted himself in front of the doorway, looking inside the glass plate.

In the corner of the dimly lit room was a small lupine in a ship crew uniform. She wasn't wearing a space worthy suit, but was moving on her own despite floating in zero-g. Jackson checked his oxygen and heating system. His head had plenty of power, with about 2 hours of compressed liquid oxygen to breathe before it would switch to a rebreather, which would last another hour until he started to suffocate or get CO2 poisoning.

He tapped on the glass a few times. The bunny girl turned her head, those long ears popping up instinctively as she stared at him with big blue eyes. She scrambled in her jacket for something and produced a small communication headset designed to be adjusted based upon species. She clicked it a few times, finding Jackson's frequency, "Hello?"

Jackson smiled at her through his faceplate. "Hi! Apparently we are the only survivors I've found so far, but that's good! We're still breathing! What's your name?" He pressed his armored hand against the window, looking into her eyes while staring back at his reflection.

She placed her hand back to his, a terrified look in her eyes as the two of them exchanged pleasantries. The situation of impending death around them only seeming slightly further away.

There was a deep inhale from the bunny as she closed her eyes, and tried to calm herself and keep her emotions contained. "I'm Georgia. We don't exactly have an airlock here. How long does your suit have? Who are you? What happened? How do we get out of this? Please don't leave me." Her attempt was clearly failing.

Jackson shook his head, "No idea. I'm Jackson, and please, calm down, you don't want to ruin the oxygen supplies too fast. Right, airlock... what if we made one?"

The lapine's ears folded against her head. "How?" She reached up to adjust the collar on her janitor's uniform, trying to slow her breathing back down after the railing of questions at her not-rescuer. There was a pause between them as the gears spun in Jackson's head and Georgia slowly lost more and more hope in the situation. The room she was in was still sealed and had a small air supply as a part of the redundancy systems, but in the end it was just a locker room at the end of a hallway.

Jackson looked around at the floating pieces of ship around him and reached for his backpack. His emergency kit was there, always something he kept close. A flashlight, emergency rations, basic first aid kit, duct tape rolls... Wait! Duct tape rolls? The metal and duct tape could form a passable seal and let them open the door so he could get out of his suit and she wouldn't be alone. It also meant he would not be slowly suffocating in a couple of hours.

He quietly got to work, positioning pieces of metal around that fit together easily or appeared to be a part of this section of the ship. Jackson wasn't the brightest light bulb in the room, but he was still a spacer, and his training kicked in. You needed air, water, warmth, and food, in that order. He kept positioning metal and wedging it together. His suit reverberated with the light impacts of the wreckage he was using.

"What are you doing?" Georgia asked as she leaned against the window to the locker room, a port standard on all airtight doors on a ship to ensure you knew what was on the other side.

"I'm building an airlock. Air first for survival, then water, then heat. We need a room extension so neither of us die from the vacuum. Then we can figure out the water and warmth problems." Jackson spoke calmly and coolly with a smile on his lips. "Listen, space really wants to kill you. It really does, badly, but if we are savvy enough, we can always prevent it. Now let me work and stop wasting air, okay?"

Georgia nodded as she stayed at the window to her safety bunker away from the cold black. Jackson kept adding scraps to create a small area, running through his duct tape and pressing it tightly to seal the makeshift add-on room. The massive taurian dingo kept working for nearly his entire air supply, which started to read critical on his helmet. Slowly, he watched the light from the nearby star, Sol, shining down upon him be removed as he embraced the dim light from his flashlight.

All this happened while the rabbit was hastily looking for more clothes or anything to keep warm, her own flashlight darting from place to place in the sealed locker room. She may have air, but without proper heating and without a space worthy suit she would freeze to death. After several more minutes, Jackson was certain that every nook, cranny, and potential breach in his improvised room was sealed by the tape. Now he was down to just half a roll of the original four pack he started with.

"Georgia, you there?" Jackson moved towards the door, Georgia now having piled all the clothes she could find in the center of the room.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here. I'm here." Jackson gulped as he realized that if his work was faulty, she might die. He looked into Georgia's eyes as his flashlight illuminated her features and her's shone in his eyes.

"Listen, Georgia, if this doesn't work; you will only have a few moments, I'm going to give you my helmet and fit you into my armor, I'll die but I won't have killed you." Georgia stared at him, wide eyed, nearly in panic. She realized that if all else failed, he wasn't prepared to sacrifice her, a rabbit he barely knew as anything more than ship cleaning and maintenance staff. She tried to recall if they had any in-depth conversation or any meeting before, but nothing came to mind.

Jackson just smiled at her and reached for the door handle release. With a tug, the air rushed out from the room and both of them held their breath. If it wasn't stable they would know within seconds, if it was however, they wouldn't know until Georgia tried to take her next inhale.

Desperate moments passed and Georgia's lungs burned until she had no choice but to release the pressure. Then suddenly she took an inhale and everything felt immediate relief. Her lungs had not exploded from the sudden loss of pressure. She was light headed and the air was thin but breathable. Her ears heard no air leaks or nothing seeping out into the void. "Can you hear me?"

She spoke hesitantly and Jackson nodded as he moved forward and pressed his chest against her head, slowly wrapping his armored arms around the lupine and holding her tightly to himself. "I've got you, now we need water and warmth."

Georgia smiled, "We can always share body heat." She suddenly covered her mouth and was incredibly embarrassed of what she just suggested.

Jackson reached up and rubbed her head gently, "No, that doesn't work when we are both freezing to death." Jackson moved past her into the locker room. He heard her starting to close the door and turned around immediately, "Don't!"

Georgia froze halfway to closing the door, "What why? It will make less space to keep warm." She was already starting to shiver as Jackson moved forward and pulled the door mostly closed as it slid into place but not entirely so.

"There is now air in the section here. If we close the door, we cut off access to that air," There was a small pause, but she nodded and moved over to the pile of clothes, pulling out a jacket and wrapping it around herself, sitting down as Jackson removed his helmet. The oxygen was nearly gone from his suit's reserves, after that it would be a rebreather and no promise how long that would last. His eyes stared at the less than 1 minute of oxygen left in his suit's system.

"Well, we do have water, at least till it freezes." She pulled out a package of water bottles and sports drink mix from one of the lockers. "Found this while I was pillaging the lockers."

Jackson smiled and nodded to her, "Alright, well if we can't create a heater, then we need to figure out a way to send a distress signal." Georgia got to thinking and reached for a small belt on her waist. It had several tools, some for cleaning, some for opening panels and repairing things, from coolant and heating pipes to wires and electrical equipment.

"Ya know, if we use the cell from your flashlight and a few pieces out of the wall as well as my commlink, we might be able to fashion a decent S.O.S. transmitter." She started to undo a nearby panel and worked on getting the parts she needed from the wall's interior. Jackson started to unscrew his flashlight and carefully take the battery out. His helmet was off, his suit would have power for several days so he could stay warm that way, but he was genuinely concerned for Georgia though. Her smaller frame and body mass, combined with lack of a space worthy suit means she likely wouldn't survive for more than a few days before freezing.

The room wasn't freezing yet, but it was uncomfortable, especially since it now had an extra chunk added that had contained vacuum only moments ago. Jackson was beginning to really appreciate something as simple as an electric heater. "Georgia, you gonna be okay?"

She nodded as she crawled under the pile of clothing and blankets to trap her body heat and keep warm. "We have water, company, oxygen for at least a couple of days, now we just need to build a transmitter and hope they find us before we freeze. I mean, it might take a day or two before it gets too cold in here. Who knows, we might rig up a heater or a filter for us to make a fire."

Jackson smiled as he heard the little bunny giving all the details. It was good that she was keeping her spirits up. He was too, she was right; they weren't doomed yet, it was just a matter of improvising and keeping going even when things looked absolutely bleak. Her spirit had definitely picked up and she was certainly full of spunk, even if she was rather small compared to him. She would technically qualify as a micro with her height, and he assumed the lack of gravity was the reason she could even reach the window to the door.

The ball of clothes piled together closed up and Georgia was now sleeping. Jackson put his helmet on but didn't seal it. He too would drift off to sleep and let his armor's life support keep him warm during the night. Not the first time he slept in his armor, probably wouldn't be his last, at least he was certain they would get out of this.

*****

Jackson awoke to the noise of spanners and screwdrivers working on hard metal as well as Georgia panting heavily. He slowly opened his eyes to see her trying to pry a panel off the wall. "Hey wait a minute, what if you expose us to Vacuum?" He stumbled to his feet, moving the massive lower taurian body while his upper half hands extended towards her.

"And if I don't try, there ain't no one coming here to rescue us." She stumbled back as the metal panel came free, flying across the cold room and bouncing off a locker with a bang. Georgia stared as she blinked away the sweat from her eyes and shuddered in the cold. It had gotten very cold inside the room without the ship to heat it, and ice was starting to form. "Well if it was gonna put us in vacuum, I'd be dead now."

Jackson could see her breath and see the shivering of the smaller bunny. "You're freezing, we should warm you up."

Georgia grumbled and through clattering teeth shook her head, "With what? We can't exactly make a fire here without killing ourselves with carbon-monoxide and burning away our limited oxygen supply." She shuddered again as she reached into the panel with shaking hands and her breath fogged up the surface around her.

Jackson reached down and offered his hand, "Perhaps you should stay in my armor for a bit, it will keep you warm."

Georgia hesitated and looked at the hand, then at Jackson, then back at his hand. "But you..."

"It's too big for you but it will at least keep you warm. I'm a dingo subspecies, we were made to be good in the night-time of a desert biome." Jackson's armor unhinged and opened up as he signaled it to, and he took off the helmet shaped for his head. "I'll last longer in the cold than you will, and if we take turns, we'll both last longer," He reassured her as he stepped out into the cold room, wearing only his under armor. It was form fitting and provided him with protection should a breach in his suit occur. The colors were gray and red, while his armor was primarily red with several lighter black and deep gray segments for the joints that had to move.

This under armor was also a final layer of protection against fragments from his own hard-suit breaking or a penetrating round getting through to actually hurt him. It likely would not do much more than prevent the worst damage and force a bullet to slow down a little more before punching his flesh.

Georgia moved her flashlight over the inside of the armor as she crawled inside. The display of Jackson's helmet put up a warning, which he disregarded and looked at Georgia. "Move to the neck, chest and head area, that way the lower part can completely seal and won't leave you in total darkness." He helped her as the armor closed, pulling itself together. Without the correct body parts in the right segments, Georgia wouldn't be able to move the hard-case, but she would at least warm up.

Jackson was ignoring the chill he was feeling and the sight of his own breath as he moved forward. The room was clearly below freezing, and they wouldn't be able to trade in and out of the suit for much longer. It would at least get them through the day.

"Georgia," Jackson said through gritted teeth in the cold as he reached towards the wiring and pipes inside the wall. "What do I need to pull from here to make a transmitter?"

Georgia looked out the helmet, her head, arms, and shoulders fitting inside Jackson's helmet as she tried to look over his shoulder at what his flashlight was on. "I need those green wires, at least a full meter of them." She tapped against the helmet glass as she talked and pointed at each piece, despite the fact that from Jackson's perspective he had no idea what she was pointing at. "That copper-nickel pipe is for water. It's likely empty and sealed off without being connected to the rest of the ship. And about two meters of the red and yellow wiring. Oh, and that small battery power supply that is under the floor."

Jackson started to get the pieces, using his combat knife as his only real tool. Georgia had a full set of tools, but they were made for hands her size, not someone of a normal stature and certainly not someone as large as Jackson. He started to work, his knife sometimes cutting the palm beans of his Vector form, forcing him to pull them back with a hiss. Georgia winced and asked if he was alright.

Jackson smiled, "Just a little nick here and there. My hands were made to bludgeon things or use big guns, not this delicate work." Jackson used his freezing lips to lick the wounds or suck on his sore digits until he had removed the copper-nickel piping. He passed it over into the pile of metal pieces, wire bits, and a couple of hard glass tubing that Georgia had gathered together. "Alright, now what?"

Georgia cleared her throat through the helmet intercom. "I have to come out and build a radio out of all of that," She replied as Jackson pried the power cell out of the floor, after carefully disarming it from any electrical connections.

Jackson looked at the pile of parts then at Georgia, then back at the pile of parts and then did a second double-take. "You mean you expect to build a radio out of that?"

Georgia nodded, "Yeppers."

Jackson shrugged and nodded, "I'm a marine pilot, not an engineer. If you think it will work..." He stepped to Georgia as she worked the processing controls to get the helmet off while he gripped the palm of the armor to give it the passcode signal to open. Within seconds, the armor was fully open to receive Jackson. Georgia scrambled out and started to work on the former pieces of ship.

She knew that if she hesitated or took too long, she would start to freeze and be unable to get the radio rigged together. Further, she also knew what cold temperatures did to battery charges. The longer this took, the less time the broadcaster would transmit.

"What exactly are you gonna use for a message? We don't exactly have a complex microphone." Jackson looked over at her work as his body warmed back and up and started to feel less and less numb. He could feel the color coming back to his footpads and hands even if he could no longer see them inside his armor.

"Well, I'm a maintenance engineer, but I am trained to rig things as a part of damage control. This won't be a modern transistor radio as you or I would use, like the one in the helmet. Granted, the range on that radio is awful in terms of broadcasting through space," She looked up at Jackson and frowned, "No offense. Even this will only manage around 1000 kilometers before it becomes completely useless and it is not gonna last long on this battery."

She started to seal the wiring inside the glass light bulbs and used her small micro-torch to weld them in place. The wiring came together and soon she had an unknown but archaic device put together. "We just have to hope someone is within 1000 kilometers of us and decides to come investigate the signal."

She was shivering now, her teeth clattering as she spoke. She held up the ends of two wires which she had put a small amount of electrical tape on and used her marker to make one end negative and one positive. "In theory, this improvised vacuum radio should send out a set of signals that are detectable by any ship's receiver and would be picked up. Basically, I have to use Morse Code messages to send out a signal and hope that someone's computer or they themselves know enough to know what it is and are curious enough to come get us.

Jackson smiled and nodded, "That sounds excellent! It's the best hope we have and I'm all for it, you got this Georgia." Despite all of their situations, he was still smiling and upbeat. Georgia smiled back, being reassured by his optimism.

Her shaking hands slowly touched the wires to each charged end of the battery. It sparked and the bulbs lit up, she kept tapping it to the vacuum tubes in sequence. ". . . - - - . . ." There was a pause and she did it again, in a sequence of nine. ". . . - - - . . .".

Jackson's helmet lit up with the sequence and the helmet displayed a translation for him, "S.O.S. = Save Our Souls." He blinked a few times and then let out an excited yell.

"It's working! I can see the signal on my radio!" Georgia flitched and stopped her signaling for a moment and then immediately resumed, continuing to repeat the simple, time-old message.

The year was 781 AE, almost 800 years after the destruction of the Planet Earth, or rather called After Earth, yet this simple signal was still used when nothing else would work. Computers were still able to accept the simple signal and translate it. Further, any radio receiver that detected it would be able to use the advanced scanners to follow the direction of the signal without needing to triangulate. They would know where they were. Now they just had to hope a ship was within the limited range.

Over and over again, Georgia worked the wires, her face was freezing, her whiskers were so solid they would break and fragment when she wiped her face. Soon, she was without whiskers and parts of her skin under her fur were revealed. The temperature in their shelter was becoming critical. The oxygen filters were still working from the remote power supplies to keep the area going in the event the ship was damaged. A redundancy not often found on civilian ships but usually military and policing vessels, something Georgia was thankful for. They could still breathe, but it was still incredibly cold. Her hands were still warm from the warmth of the wires and battery. Finally the battery didn't spark when she touched it, it had gone dead.

She touched it again, no spark. Again and again she tried to tap out an S.O.S. and nothing happened. She kept trying, Jackson's armored hands reached out and grabbed her own; putting a stop to her desperation. "Georgia, you've been doing that for nearly two full hours. The battery is dead. Come on, it is your turn in my armor." As he spoke, she came back to reality. Their sole saving piece of equipment had finally burned out.

She looked up at him, "Do you think anyone heard us?"

Jackson nodded, "I'm sure someone did, I am sure they are on their way right now." As if summoning a demon, the room began to shake and Georgia rushed to the far wall and removed the buckling hatch to look out of a crafted viewpoint. It still had a window out into space and she looked out of it as Jackson undid his helmet to let her inside his armor.

"WHAT!? Button your helmet!" Georgia turned and yelled as she tried to flee from the window and locked the viewpoint down. Jackson, confused, did not hesitate as his training kicked in and he slammed his helmet closed. With a flash of blinding light the room suddenly decompressed and explosive force sent his no gravity held body flying across the room.

He slammed into the wall and his armor's magnet boots kicked in to hold him in place automatically from the sudden shock. He watched the expression of fear and shock upon Georgia's face as she was sucked into the void. Her body suddenly dumped blood from her eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. She was pulled by the movement of air into the vacuum, unprotected while the wall to the locker room had been ripped asunder. The small pocket of air that kept her alive, ceasing to exist. The void would have its victim.

It all happened in slow motion to him as his adrenaline kicked in, his body responding to shock and terror as Georgia was blown into the void. He reached for her desperately and tried to will his boots to release him, but without atmosphere and without thrusters, the boots came up with an "Are You Sure?" and he did not notice it in his desperation before Georgia disappeared into the black merciless void.

He looked up to see what happened, and followed a trail of debris and fuel exhaust in space to a stark white ship in the distance. Their original killer had hung around and not moved, it must have spent the time they were using the battery to locate exactly where they were and once it confirmed them, it fired a missile to ensure they were dead.

His brain started doing the math and realized the missile had not hit their room directly, but instead had exploded on debris that got in the way. Jackson wasn't the smartest, but as a trained pilot, he understood the basics of space flight and space combat.

He stared at the stark white ship, his helmet's zoom function zooming in to find some markings of some sort, but could detect nothing. He looked the ship over with all his helmet's features and visual ability to see anything and simply could not see a single marking on the ship. The vessel was without a single mark, indicator, nameplate, nothing. Every bit of metal was painted stark pale white.

The ship suddenly shuddered and pushed itself several meters out of his vision. He zoomed out to see a debris field starting to leak from the ship as it was folding in half. A gout of parts and debris flying out of both sides of the vessel, including bodies. Something haad slammed into the ship and passed right through near its reactor, breaking her spine. Two more shudders hit it, these ones explosive, quickly evaporating within moments clouds of white dust echoed from the impact points before the ship started to become a fireball of explosions. Within a second the ship was rendered apart and debris was flying towards him with all sorts of incoming warnings across his helmet.

He covered his face and moved behind the nearest piece of his former shelter as fragments of the ship rained on him. His armor reported tings and bangs as micro fragments slammed into him. Suddenly, the world went completely black with a painful impact to his forehead and he felt himself slip into an involuntary sleep.

*****

Jackson groaned and slowly opened his eyes to the sound of a medical indicator beeping. Everything was fuzzy, but he was in a brightly light clean room. Several blue crosses on the walls were all he could make out as he looked around. The sound of an airlock door opening and something sharp, pointed, and hard tapping across metal floor panels hit his ears.

"Hello, my name is Hoary, your doctor." He heard feathers and the gentle whine of a pushframe as a flashlight drifted over his eyes. "How do you feel?"

Jackson groaned and tried to speak, "Hard to... think.... see..."

Hoary, from her end, was carefully evaluating Jackson's body, checking the monitors for how his vitals were doing. She checked his brain waves to make sure they were as active as expected and no brain damage was present. She had been doing this monitoring for several days. They were no closer to figuring out what happened to the ship than what the stark white vessel was.

The Adrift Sphere let out a shudder as it rotated to begin a retro burn in preparation to dock. Hoary pressed her talon into the floor to maintain her balance as she put the flashlight down. "I am going to assume that asking if you know who attacked you or where you are is completely futile?" Hoary was proceeding as usual, with a lack of emotion in her voice and generally taking note on her tablet of all of the vital signs and observations she had made.

Jackson looked away, rather disheartened. "Where is Georgia? Did she survive?"

Hoary raised a confused eyebrow, "Who? There were quite a few bodies but we found none with lifesigns still. Who was this Georgia?"

Jackson started to blink away the blindness to the point he could make out white, gold, and beige feathers and a labcoat of the doctor to him. A bird of some sort? No, an avialae subspecies. He wasn't sure why his vision was still very blurry. "Georgia was in the locker room with me, we turned it into a survival pod and... and she was blown out when the ship attacked us," Jackson tried to articulate his thoughts better, "She was a lupine, a rodentia in a maintenance outfit. She was in there with me, she sent out the signal."

Hoary let out a sigh. It wasn't one of remorse or exasperation, simply frustration. "We found no one else alive. We did detect that primitive signal and approached. When the missile fire was detected, we used our railgun system to blow the stark white vessel apart. I believe they were so focused on you, they did not notice us since we did no deceleration burn and were running dark. Your primitive signal had us on edge, we were not sure what we would find."

Jackson started to tear up. He felt his heart tearing as he heard every step of the words. His friends were dead, and the one crewmate turned friend he had held onto was gone simply because it was his turn inside his armor. He felt his chest screaming like it would tear apart from this awful realization.

"The bodies, I want to see them."

Jackson's words caught Hoary off guard. They did not recover any dead bodies, they could not even find a black box of either vessel to recover. The black boxes of the Inner Ring Police Force (IRPF) were destroyed, and the stark white vessel did not have one. Apparently, when their weapons had destroyed the vessel, it had also destroyed all data on board, and turned its computers into just fancy expensive paperweights.

"We recovered no bodies. You were the only living Vector on board either vessel, and we were hoping you could tell us more information," Hoary explained as she set her tablet down. Once again, the hum of her pushframe across her brow lit up as she levitated the flashlight with precision back up to Jackson, examining his eyes as they started to come into proper focus.

Jackson flinched when his vision unblurred, and he felt some instinctual drive to get away from Hoary as fast as he could. His eyes looked down at a Vector, an owl Vector. "You're.... You're..."

Hoary cleared her throat, "Yes, I am an owl. Not that sort of owl that all your instincts are telling you to flee from, just a blip." She reached up and poked his exposed upper body shoulder with her wing and then back down to his lower shoulder. "See, just a Vector; technically a bio-engineer and doctor."

Jackson took a second to understand the term. "What do you mean, blip?"

Hoary cleared her throat, "A designer Vector, made in a tube instead of the biological way, for a purpose and generally owned as property. I am neither owned and I owe zero debt to anyone, so in essence, I have no loyalty to the corporations. Now, I suppose you have many questions about me, this vessel that rescued you, and other things. I suggest we tear off that plaster now, so ask away." There was irritation in her voice, much more than what an avialae would have normally, at least to anyone without the ability to hear the chirps and clicks they made.

Jackson stuttered at the statement. Every single Vector in all of society had debt. The debt was a way to keep them in the society or at least force even those like his family on Ganymede to report in and pay their debt or face the bounty hunters. It was how everyone understood their place in society; the higher your debt, the more than likely higher your class. You may have to make those payments, but to be trusted with more debt meant the corporate entities trusted you to be stable, have more responsibility, and access to higher forms of technology, healthcare, or actual food instead of food reconstructions.

"You... you have zero debt? How? No one has that! Even the poor and destitute still owe credits!" Jackson replied rather stunned.

"Something I did long ago, and if I was successful, my debt would be wiped clean and I would be freed of my master's shackles, permanently and unequivocally. Now that we are past those two points, what are your other questions?" Hoary seemed to be speaking nearly mechanically to him as she took notes on her tablet.

"Are you not worried about my mental state?" Jackson raised an eyebrow trying to find something to smile about or something to hang onto from his past.

"No, I am a medical doctor, not a psychiatrist or therapist. My position is to make sure you are physically okay and figure out what you want to do moving forward from here," Hoary replied with a dignified attitude as she finished taking notes.

"What do you mean, moving forward from here?" Jackson replied, rather disturbed as he shook his head and folded the dingo ears against his skull. He slowly moved his taurian body to the edge of the bed, preparing to stand up.

"Please do not stand up, I have had to use isotopes to look at your insides and you are heavily medicated, and I do not believe I could easily pick you up off the floor." Hoary moved quickly with a silent flight to land in front of him and stop him from standing up. She then motioned towards him with one wing as she spoke. "You, by reporting of your ship's destruction, are dead. Now, we have not reported any survivors because we were not sure you would wake up. I am reasonably certain, due to the circumstances of your ship's destruction, they will want to speak to you and then ensure you remain silent by any means necessary."

Hoary waited as she looked into the dingo's sharp orange-black eyes with her own golden-red ones. "Now, we can report you dead, I can alter your identity implant, and no one will be the wiser. You will simply be your brother. You can stay on this ship, or we can drop you off at the next station we stop at and you can live your life as you see fit."

Jackson tilted his head and his ears perked back up. "Why would you want me to stay?"

Hoary checked her tablet and turned it around. "It says here you are a marine pilot, as a specialization. Meaning, you know how to fly a ship and did relatively well on both tests and practical field experience." Hoary looked up at Jackson as she turned the tablet back around and got a bit of hope on her face. "We need a dedicated pilot, plus having a marine would be beneficial."

Jackson looked a bit confused, even more than he had moments ago. "We? What is this ship?"

Hoary cleared her throat to speak and calm her emotions but the door opening and Orashen coming in stopped their conversation. Both of them turned their heads to see her. Jackson's eyes lit up at the visage of the kitsune woman. Her tails fluttered against the doorframe as she stepped inside. "This is the Adrift Sphere. We are a fully independent, non-sponsored vessel. A scavenger class, ya know, assembled from the pieces of other ships and are a patrol-sized vessel. At present, just the two of us are the crew."

Jackson looked at Hoary ,then at Orishan, then back at Hoary. "If you're the doctor, who is she?"

Hoary cleared her throat, "Right, Ganymede dialect. She is the captain."

Jackson turned back and forth a minute. "Not to offend, but how do you know I wouldn't just overpower both of you and take your ship? I mean, you seem pretty trusting, and I like that, just worried is all."

Orishan smiled. "I fully trust Hoary to be able to subdue you and absolutely tear you limb from limb in close quarters combat--"

Hoary snapped her beak. "CQC please. Those trained in the art actually use the term properly."

Orishan rolled her eyes. "Yes, well, Hoary doesn't require weapons like most of us do; her talons are genetically modified to be able to slice through armor, as is her beak, and if they break, she is modified to regenerate them. Each regeneration makes them harder and sharper, like a muscle tearing down and building back up after an intensive exercise session."

Jackson turned to Hoary. He looked the owl up and down and realized why the talons made such noise when she walked across the floor. There were hundreds of small marks on the floor here. She was slowly grinding the steel and titanium with her claws just by walking on it. "You're trained in CQC?"

Hoary nodded. "As a scientist who has to go to places first hand, I am trained intimately in the use of CQC to the point I am registered as a level 4 master." Hoary's reply was very much with the kind of confidence Jackson would expect from someone who actually was an expert or an expert liar. He still had a moment to try to figure out how an avialae with a lateral form instead of a humanoid one could be a CQC master.

Jackson took a moment to take this in fully. Level 4 master was no joke. There were 6 levels of mastery in the CQC training offered to Vectors, with one level 7 master allowed by each corporation at any time, but even getting level 1 was a task and required constant proving of yourself to rise up. With these mental notes, he made another one to look up Hoary's records and information later. "Oh, good to know I'm safe in your hands. I will have to think about it some, but the prospect of the corporation chewing me up and silencing this whole incident isn't something I really thought about."

Orishan cleared her throat. "Our request by the employer to check for your vessel was informed that anyone we rescued were, and I quote here, to forget we found them or that they ever existed. I, personally, assume that means if we hand you over to them you will disappear. While I am rather ruthless in negotiations, I do have a heart, and you definitely do not deserve that fate."

Orishan took several steps forward and walked up to sit on the edge of the bed with Jackson. Her voice was cool, sweet, well practiced; that of a woman who wanted to both offer sympathy and temptation in the same note. "Now, we have several vacant crew quarters and are looking to recruit a proper crew for this ship. You are a pilot, we need a dedicated experienced pilot. I can promise they will never know of your survival, and you will have proper papers and identification protocols to go see your family on Ganymede. Hoary here can easily see to that."

Hoary nodded to him. "I am more than capable of performing modification to an identification chip and creating a falsified identity that will pass most inspections. Just do not end up caught by the IRPF in an interrogation room for more than a day or two."

Orishan nodded and turned back to Jackson, placing a hand onto his and giving a gentle squeeze with soft velvet well-cared digits. "We do need a decision, your IRPF employers are going to call us in a few minutes, and I need to know what I am going to report to them."

Jackson had heard of officers disappearing after strange events. A stark white combat vessel destroying their patrol ship and then coming back to kill the crew, as well as destroying any black box information. This was a cover up and it stank. He did not know why, and something in his mind plagued him more than justice for his squadmates and his crewmates. He saw Georgia's face, the last expression of terror as the vacuum rendered her apart and she was yanked into the void.

"I will join you, but I have a condition."

Orishan nodded. "Well, I'm sure we can make it happen, what is it?"

"We get the bastards that killed my ship." He spoke with a draw to his words, the Ganymede accent coming out. Orishan smiled warmly and knowingly at him and then looked at Hoary. Hoary nodded to Orishan in agreement of a question that was never asked between them.

"We can do that."