Inspired by the SES - State Emerrgency Services... Galactic Emergency Services, or Alliance Emergency Services?
Humans gonna Human. -- InterNutter
Arn woke up in freefall, bumping gently against what had once been a wall decoration. It, too, was far from where it belonged. She recovered enough wits to look around. Good news? Bad news? Deal-with-it-later news?
Okay. Good news, the passive air ciculation and lighting was working. Glow-in-the-dark patches, strips, and spots gave shape to the otherwise pitch-dark bridge. The air circulation was self-evident. If the air wasn't moving, they'd have all suffocated in their own exhallations by now. Okay. Bad news, the mass of solar ejecta had blown out all the regular power systems as well as knocking the ship about. As well as cutting off the artificial gravity and other essential systems. The whole mess would have to be rebooted and there was no telling which emergency doors had sealed in the initial crash.
No radio. No messenger drones. No contact with civilisation. A glance out a porthole showed that the ship was tumbling, and there was no sign to indicate which direction it was tumbling in. Arn checked her personal datareader. It was operational, but there was no link available to anything.
Not even SpamNet[1]. This was serious.
What could she do about this now? Find a way to get somewhere useful, perhaps. Wake, treat, or both someone who could get something running. Power? Or gravity?
Power. Power would help the gravity operate, she was moderately sure. Arn knew she'd at least feel a little better with the lights on.
She used her own breath to propel her towards something still bolted in place, then used the handhold to get to a door. Thankfully, not powered shut... yet difficult to lever open.
She almost missed the flash of light through the portholes.
Rescue? So soon? Or was it a pack of opportunists ready to steal what they could and kill whatever they saw?
Where the flakk were the emergency stunners?
Arn had to hang on in order to avoid being flung sideways as the ship ceased its tumble. The next noise, carrying through the substructure of the ship, was an airlock dock attaching.
That was good news. If they were civilised enough to use the airlock, there was hope that they were benevolent. Or at least not barbaric enough to kill first and loot later. Nevertheless, Arn scrambled down the veet tube to the level where the airlocks were. She missed three emergency lockers in her rush to get there in time.
Arn did not miss the fourth, though there was a panicked scramble to remember which side the catch was on.
She had no livesuit. Just a basic stunner loaded with six shots. And a lit corridor... illuminated by the cogniscent sticking lamps to the walls. They had a livesuit with a translator screen and hi-vis orange paint all over.
Except for three stark, black letters on the torso. U. E. S.
Universal Emergency Services.
Arn breathed out and put the stunner in its holster. "Thank the Powers, it's you," she said. "How the flakk did you know we were in trouble?"
"Believe it or not, the SpamNet comes in handy, sometimes. When they lose contact with a potential market, they start screaming. They know someone's in trouble before anyone can launch an emergency beacon." Which Arn would have still needed power for.
"Say... while you're here. You know. After everything's back to normal... Can you install a rip-cord beacon? Just in case? Our higher-ups thought it would never come in handy."
"All part of the service," said the Human with a salute. "Now. Do you know the way to central power generation on this vessel?"
Arn was only too glad to show them.
[1] Rather than allowing corporate interests to access vital information systems, the Galactic Alliance has sectioned off a portion of the infonets as an exclusive host to any and all corporate advertising. If someone wants goods or services, they can search there. This has been a great leap forward for civilisation at large, though the corporations still whine about it. Incessantly.
[Photo by Levi Stute on Unsplash]
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