The Black Shard: Part VIII
The Black Shard is a story about two lovers who must survive their way of life by illegally mining in space. They hope to make billions of dollars in one lucky run, but find that there is something else out on the rocks aside from a few precious metals.
The Black Shard: Part I - https://theprose.com/post/323367/the-black-shard-part-i
The Black Shard: Part II - https://theprose.com/post/323606/the-black-shard-part-ii
The Black Shard: Part III - https://theprose.com/post/323912/the-black-shard-part-iii
The Black Shard: Part IV - https://theprose.com/post/324436/the-black-shard-part-iv
The Black Shard: Part V - https://theprose.com/post/324870/the-black-shard-part-v
The Black Shard: Part VI - https://theprose.com/post/326810/the-black-shard-part-vi
The Black Shard: Part VII - https://theprose.com/post/328791/the-black-shard-part-vii
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Back in the cockpit, Hoitt and Jennifer took their seats to prepare for exit procedures. Hoitt glanced at his overhead dashboard, searching for the row of green buttons. He pressed the only one among them colored red, labeled: “PRIME”.
“Priming Engines,” Hoitt said. The cockpit started shaking slightly, indicating that the engines were warming up.
“Copy that. I’m monitoring. Nuclear reactors are stable. Engines are getting heated, but it’s well under the threshold,” Jennifer replied.
Hoitt and Jennifer yelped as the shaking turned into thrashing. --Only for a moment. Hoitt swore he heard the faint sounds of metal scraping on metal from behind the cockpit.
Was that from the exit procedures? Hoitt wondered.
“Computer, what was that?” Jennifer called out.
“An impact breached the Cargo Bay. Likely from a miniature asteroid. Processing damage,” The computer said.
“I thought you could detect those!” Hoitt yelled at it. He was angry that something like this could occur when they needed to run. If they got caught mining in the restricted zone, damage to The Flying Weasel would be the least of their worries from the likes of Space Force.
“Minimal damage to the ship occurred. The cargo container is depressurized and needs sealing. The collision was impossible to detect,” The computer stated.
Hoitt thought the computer was mocking him. However, he was happy to see that the damage was minor.
“Let’s continue, and check out the damned cargo later,” Hoitt said to Jennifer. Hoitt was feeling impatient and for good reason. She agreed.
“Computer, path a course to Mars Colony 22. Get us out of here!” Jennifer commanded.
“Pathing course. Turning the ship starboard,” The computer answered immediately. The sound of thrusters reverberated from The Flying Weasel’s port side as the computer oriented the bow towards its coordinates.
Hoitt looked at the asteroid field from the viewing port just as Jennifer commanded the computer. The lost gold mine, Hoitt thought absent-minded. The sea of asteroids panned to only a blanket of stars as they sped towards home. --Mars.
Another thought occurred to Hoitt. He remembered the black dot crawling from the mined asteroid. Slight panic took hold as he continued to stare, but he stopped himself. More things to worry about, he affirmed to himself.
“Fortifying ship for departure,” The computer said. The viewing port self-sealed with an iris of metal sheathing. Hoitt blinked. He presumed that the rest of the ship’s vulnerable ports were sealing too. Well, perhaps other than Cargo Bay.
The vibrations throughout the ship intensified as the stern thrusters came online. Hoitt grit his teeth and looked at Jennifer, who was focused on the monitoring screen. Shoulders hunched.
“Thrusters are nominal,” Jennifer called out. She looked at Hoitt and caught his gaze.
Hoitt nodded at her. He wanted to let her know that everything was okay. That they were going to be okay. That they would still be rich from the metals they found. That what he did was enough to secure them for the future. Though, Hoitt doubted it himself.
Jennifer smiled and nodded back. Hoitt didn’t know what she was thinking, and he wished he did. He checked his monitor again as if it would help things go faster.
The main thrusters of the ship evidently came online, as he felt the heightened vibrations slow to a familiar and somber hum inside the cockpit. Hoitt sighed in relief. Jennifer sighed too.
The computer confirmed the departure: “Mass and thrust are now in equilibrium. The approximate time to reach Mars Colony 22: About six Martian days.”
“Good,” Said Hoitt. But he didn’t celebrate yet. He knew they officially bought time, but they were not out of danger. For now... Hoitt took a sharp breath.
“We should fix the hull of the ship before we reach the colony,” Hoitt said to Jennifer.
“Looks like we have all the time in the world for it now,” She quipped back. Hoitt turned to see her give a stiff glance back at the monitor before letting her head lazily fall towards him. She stretched out her hand, beckoning. Jennifer looked on edge, so Hoitt grabbed it. When he did, he felt her fingers softly pet his knuckles over the gloves.
“We’ll be there in just 147 hours. You think we’re gonna make it?” She asked. Hoitt didn’t hear fear from her voice, but he knew the truth. He looked on and squeezed her hand silently.
Ever since he found her at that bar in the slums of Earth just a few years ago, she hasn’t left his side. At first, he knew she was using him to escape. --To run from what generations of people before them named: “Humanity’s Last Mistake”. To fly away from the only experience available to Lowborns like her on that cursed planet; The salt mines, the factories, the smog scrubbing plants, and the overpopulation. It was culture for Lowborns to show no fear. They laughed at the famine and disease that was just a part of their lives on Earth. Hoitt knew Jennifer wouldn’t show him how scared she was, ever. He kicked himself for forcing her to run a second time.
But it couldn’t be helped now. He got up and pressed his helmet against hers. “No time to waste, Ms. Bones.”
Jennifer took a ragged breath. Hoitt watched her shoulders rise with his peripheral vision as he stared at her eyes. She blinked. “Yeah,” she said. He noticed the faintest quiver from her lips. They let go of each other, and Hoitt walked to Cargo Bay. He heard a whispered cuss, along with her footsteps following just behind.
It was time to assess the damage, and make repairs. “Computer, what is the status of Cargo Bay?” Hoitt asked. He pressed the button to open the first hallway hatch.
“The Cargo Bay hull is damaged due to a collision, likely from a small asteroid,” It replied. The hallway hatch opened with a hiss. Hoitt gave a grunt. He already knew what happened to Cargo Bay, and felt annoyed.
The computer continued: “The air is depressurized, and many electric systems are compromised. Doors leading to Cargo Bay are compromised.” They stepped into the hallway and made their way to the second set of doors. “I thought damages were minor, computer,” Hoitt said.
“What about the inventory?” Jennifer interrupted from behind.
“Safe.” The computer replied. “Oh, thank God,” Hoitt said, exasperated. He pressed the button to open the second set of doors, and waited.
“Standby,” The computer said without prompt. Five seconds pass as they let the mechanism suck in the ambient air.
Just as it opens, the computer chimes: “Warning. The temperature is rising. Significant radiation also detected in Cargo Bay.”
“What?” Hoitt and Jennifer say together. They picked up the pace towards the last set of doors leading to Cargo Bay. These doors had small windows, unlike the ones before. Hoitt saw a warm yellow glow emanating from the right side of the bay. He overheard Jennifer whisper: “What now?”
What now is right. Hoitt thought too. He pushed the button to open the doors. But they didn’t respond. Only the blinking red LEDs on the door panel reminded Hoitt that they were broken. He felt the frustration building.
So he pushed the button again and again, frantically, hoping they would obey. “Oh, come on!” He yelled.
“Move!” Jennifer shouted as she pushed beside Hoitt in the cramped hallway. He watched her pressing her helmet against the windows of the door to see the other side.
He saw her eyes go wide. Then, her mouth agape. The glow lit her face, and Hoitt felt his stomach drop.
No noise came from that stony petrified gaze.
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Boy, this part took a long time to finish! While it was eight months since the last part, I learned a lot more about writing and tried to develop a more present-tense style this time. I hope it shows improvement from my last chapters. Thank you for waiting. More coming soon. -Ryan