Chapter 01

Chapter 1

            No one had seen the meteor shower coming.  The best scientific minds in the entire Bloc of Planetary States hadn’t predicted it.  Nor had any of the scientific equipment on the outpost detected the shower until it was too late.

            Commander Buster Bulldog looked over the last sensor readings from the outpost and frowned.  The meteors coming down were larger and more plentiful than they had first feared.  By the time the Batpooh arrived, there might not be much left of the outpost.

            Captain Barker must have been thinking along the same lines.  He gripped the armrest of his command chair tighter as he asked, “Can we go any faster?”

            “We’re at maximum speed now,” said Lieutenant Commander Spot Mutt II, the ship’s helmsman.  Spot looked over his shoulder at Buster, giving him a knowing look.  “ETA thirty minutes to Outpost Bone Seven.”

            “Thank you, Commander,” the captain said.  He edged back in his seat but he didn’t relax.  None of them could at this point.  They were heading into a dangerous situation, perhaps the most dangerous they’d faced in Buster’s six years on the ship.

            The best they could do was hope the outpost staff found a safe hiding place and pray to Dog that the Batpooh arrived in time.  Buster gripped his armrest as tightly as the captain and then replayed the last transmission from the outpost.  It was mostly static, but there were a few shouted words audible.  “Meteors…too many…help!”

            Buster bit on his upper lip.  He had never felt so helpless before in all his life.  For all its speed and firepower, the Batpooh couldn’t do anything for the outpost crew right now.  Neither could he, not with all his training and experience.

            The next twenty-five minutes went by painfully slow.  Buster counted each second in his head, each one bringing them closer to the outpost.  At the same time, each second brought the outpost closer to destruction. 

            Buster stared at the viewscreen, urging it to give him some sign of the outpost.  When it finally did, he barely stifled a gasp.  The blue surface of Bone Seven was stained with black and orange marks from meteor hits.  A swarm of gray meteors surrounded the planet, turning orange as they tumbled into the atmosphere.

            At least now Buster could spring into action.  “Shields up,” he commanded.  “Arm all weapons.  Helm, prepare to take us in.”  Buster looked over at Captain Barker to confirm this; the captain nodded subtly at him.

            “Shields at maximum.  All lasers and missiles primed,” Lieutenant Jake Bulldog said.  Buster looked up at his younger brother and nodded.  Their survival—and that of the outpost—would depend largely on Jake’s shooting.  Buster couldn’t think of anyone he trusted more in this situation.

            Captain Barker stood up from his chair, planting himself in the center of the bridge.  “Commander Mutt, take us in.  Most expedient course, please.”

            “Already programmed, sir.”

            “Excellent.  Ensign Terrier, can we make contact with the outpost?”

            “Negative, sir.  I’ve been trying on all frequencies but no response.”

            “We’ll just have to hope for the best then.”  The captain turned back to Buster.  “Commander Bulldog, put evacuation teams on full alert.  I want a transport to launch at the first possible instant.”

            “Yes, sir.”  Buster punched a button to the hangar.  The Batpooh’s ten transports would start up their engines and prepare to launch once the captain gave the order.  Getting to the surface would be difficult, especially with so much meteor activity, but the Batpooh’s crew was the best the BPS Spacefleet had to offer.

            “We’re reaching the outer level of the shower,” Spot said. 

            Captain Barker took his seat.  He wisely buckled himself in; it was about to get rough on the bridge.  Buster followed suit, as did the rest of the bridge crew.  “Lieutenant, clear us a path if you would.”

            Buster couldn’t feel the weapons fire, but the blue laser flashes were visible on the viewscreen.  The problem was that each hit broke the meteors into pieces of varying sizes.  The small ones would burn up in the atmosphere, but the rest would remain dangerous, for the outpost and the Batpooh. 

            On his display, Buster watched the Batpooh approach the planet.  They got about two thousand kilometers before the ship shuddered.  The shields deflected most of the meteors, but some still managed to get through.  Jake had the ship’s weapons focused ahead of them, leaving the sides vulnerable to anything the shields didn’t stop.

            “Three minutes until high orbit,” Spot called out.  He had as tough a job as Jake at the moment, trying to steer the Batpooh through the maze of space rocks without colliding with any.  As the biggest ship in the fleet, the Batpooh was sturdy but not very maneuverable.

            The shuddering became more violent as the ship reached the heart of the meteor shower.  Despite Jake and Spot’s best efforts, more of the meteors were getting through, larger ones that could do damage to the Batpooh’s armored skin.  Buster watched reports trickle in from all decks of the ship.  It was minor damage so far, but he doubted it would stay that way.

            “One minute,” Spot said.

            “As soon as we’re in high orbit, have the evacuation teams launch.  Ensign Terrier, still nothing from the outpost?”

            “Nothing, sir.  I’m still trying.”

            “Good boy.  Keep it up.”

            Unless they could make contact with the surface, the evacuation teams would head for the center of the outpost complex.  The bunker underneath it would be the logical place to begin the search.  If they still didn’t find anything, Captain Barker would face the terrible decision of continuing the search or protecting his crew by leaving the area.  Though Buster had dreamed of commanding a starship since he was a puppy, he didn’t relish having to make that kind of choice.

            The lights on the bridge dimmed for a moment and it shook as if from a quake.  Buster’s display indicated they had taken a hit just below the bridge level.  A hundred meters higher and the meteor might have broken through the bridge’s bulkheads.

            “High orbit achieved,” Spot said.

            Buster didn’t need Captain Barker to tell him to call down to the evacuation teams.  He was already pressing before Spot could finish.  The crews down in the hangar were just as quick in launching the first two transports.  “Two transports away,” Buster said.

            “Good.  Commander Mutt, position us in stationary orbit over the outpost command center and turn us to face starboard.  Lieutenant Bulldog, divert all power to starboard shields and weapons.  I don’t want anything getting through.  Understood?”

            “Yes, sir,” Jake and Spot said in unison.

            Taking such a position would be dangerous, but it would allow the Batpooh to use its bulk and firepower to screen the outpost from much further damage.  That would also make things easier for the transport crews on their way down to the surface.

            “Captain, I’m getting a signal,” Ensign Terrier said.

            Before he could elaborate, his station exploded.  Buster was already out of his chair, rushing over to the communications station.  He found Ensign Terrier lying against a wall a good three meters away.  Bending down, Buster saw the ensign was cut but not too badly.

            He was about to ask permission to take the ensign down to sickbay when the lights went out on the bridge again.  A roar like thunder accompanied this, followed by a cry from Captain Barker.  In the sparks of shattered equipment, Buster saw another meteor had come through the ceiling of the bridge, right in the center where the captain sat and where Buster had been sitting just a minute earlier.  Captain Barker’s head and shoulders were visible among the wreckage but it was too far to see if he was still alive.

            “Don’t try to move,” Buster whispered into Ensign Terrier’s ear.  Then he leapt over the railing, into the central bridge area.  He scrambled down the wreckage to where the captain lay.  Spot joined him, the two of them clawing at the debris to clear it away.

            Buster gasped as they got to the bottom of the pile.  A beam probably three times heavier than the combined weight of everyone on the bridge pinned the captain down.  The good news was that the captain was panting, still alive in spite of it all.  “We’ll get you out of there, sir,” Buster said.

            The captain didn’t say anything.  He was unconscious.  Buster turned to Spot.  “We’ve got to get that thing off of him.”

            “It’s too heavy to lift.”

            “Then we won’t lift it.”  Buster reached down to the pistol at his hip.  He motioned for Spot to stand back.

            The support beam was engineered to withstand a lot, so that Buster had to turn the laser pistol up to its highest setting.  Even then it didn’t do anything right away.  He had to focus the beam for a full minute before the beam turned orange.  He continued until the pistol’s charge gave out.  Spot handed his pistol to Buster, who took it and resumed firing.

            The beam finally gave way with a snap.  Now that it was cut into two smaller pieces it was slightly more manageable.  It still took Buster and Spot a good three minutes of grunting and straining to move it.

            Once they had the beam pushed aside, Buster saw the stain on Captain Barker’s uniform.  “I want you and Jake to get the captain and Ensign Terrier down to sickbay.”

            “But—”

            “I’ll handle the weapons,” Buster said.

            “You can’t do this alone.”

            “Neither can you.  You need Jake’s help to take them both down there.”

            The bridge shook again from another hit, this one not as close though.  “I don’t think—”

            “That’s an order, Lieutenant Commander Mutt.”

            Spot gave Buster a long look but then nodded.  “Yes, sir.”

            With the debris and their red uniform jackets they fashioned a makeshift stretcher to lay Captain Barker on.  They lifted the captain as gently as possible, Buster taking his feet and Spot his armpits.  The captain whimpered but didn’t wake up.  Buster hoped they could do something for him down in sickbay.

            He sprinted up to Jake’s station, sliding into his brother’s chair.  There wasn’t time for a hug or even a pawshake.  “Good luck, sir,” Jake said.

            “You too.” 

            They left it at that.  Jake, with his more muscular frame, took the stretcher while Spot draped Ensign Terrier against his body.  The elevator doors didn’t work, but Jake took care of those with his pistol.  He tossed Buster a wave before dragging the stretcher through the opening.  At least the elevator itself worked, whisking them away.

            Buster just hoped they made it.

#

            At the Academy, Buster had spent hours in the simulator, practicing his shooting.  He had set a number of records for accuracy that were broken three years later by Jake.  They had both learned to shoot from their father on raccoon hunting trips in the Great Forest.  Jake had always brought home more raccoon pelts than Buster.  That was until Buster realized how barbaric hunting was and refused to go on the trips.

            He remembered his father’s advice about clearing his mind of distractions as he studied the display in front of him.  He lined up a meteor in his sights and then punched the button to fire a laser battery.  He caught the meteor square in the center, sending it spraying out in all directions.  Only a few tiny pieces hit the ship, none enough to cause much damage.

            His joy at this victory was short-lived.  More meteors were already on the way in, far too many.  He had to forget about surgically aiming the lasers and instead did his best to put up a wall of fire.  Most of the meteor chunks evaporated.  Too late Buster saw one the size of his father’s limousine make it through the barrage. 

            He tried to readjust his sights, but it was too late.  His shot clipped the bottom of the meteor, propelling it up towards the bridge.  Buster grabbed onto the sides of the station, hard enough for his nails to dig into the metal.  The bridge lights went out, this time remaining out.  The floor beneath Buster shook, but nothing gave way.

            When red emergency lights came on, he saw the helm had been destroyed.  If Spot had been sitting there he would have been crushed.  His best friend would have been killed because he had missed the shot.

            Instead he heard his friend’s voice say, “Are you all right?”

            Buster turned, his tongue lolling out with joy.  “I’m fine,” he said.  “What about the captain?”

            “Nina’s working on him.”

            Buster didn’t envy her for that.  Nina was not only the chief medical officer but also Captain Barker’s wife.  She was carrying their first litter of puppies as well.  But if anyone could save the captain, it would be Dr. Barker.  “Good.  See if you can get the comm working again.”

            “I’ll try.  Doesn’t seem like much of it is left.”

            Buster nodded but didn’t take his eyes off the screen.  He fired another barrage to destroy a wave of meteors.  This time he made sure not to miss.  “Any luck?”

            “I’m trying to reroute the controls into my commpad,” Spot said as he worked.  He had spent a couple of summers working with Spot’s older brother Jeremiah in a salvage shop.  Buster had wanted to go with them, but his father thought that beneath the Bulldog family honor.

            Buster was in the middle of taking out another wave of meteors when he heard a hiss from where Spot was working.  “Got it,” Spot said.  “I’m getting a call from the evacuation team.” 

            From the corner of his eye, Buster saw Spot press the commpad to his ear.  His friend nodded for a moment and then said, “I understand.  Good work.”

            “What is it?”

            “They’ve got them.  The entire staff.  A few minor injuries, but nothing serious.”

            “Great.”  There wasn’t time for anything else as more meteors were coming in fast.  Buster fired the lasers as fast she could, but he couldn’t get everything.  The bridge shook again, but the emergency lights stayed on and the ceiling—what was left of it—stayed intact.

            Buster felt a tap on his shoulder.  Turning he saw Jake standing there.  “Nice shooting,” he said.  Buster wasn’t sure if Jake were being sarcastic or not.

            After making sure no meteors were imminent, Buster slid out of the seat to let Jake take over again.  He turned to Spot.  “Let’s see if we can get the helm patched up.”

            They set to work, using spare parts from Buster’s station and his commpad to rig up a makeshift helm.  They had just finished the work when Spot’s commpad buzzed.  He pressed it to his ear.  “The evacuation teams are aboard.”

            “Then let’s get out of here.”

            Buster took the commpad from his friend so that Spot could pilot the ship out of the meteor shower.  Without a chair to sit on, Buster squatted on the floor, watching through the viewscreen as meteors whizzed around them.  He heard Spot’s commpad buzz again and picked it up.

            It was Nina’s voice on the line.  “Spot?”

            “It’s Buster.  How is he?”

            “He’ll live.”  Nina’s voice sounded on the verge of sobbing.

            “What is it?” he asked.

            “He’s not going to walk again.  He’s paralyzed.”  She finally did sob at this.  “I did everything I could, but the damage—”

            “I understand.  It’s not your fault, Nina.”

            “Thank you, Buster.  Or I guess I should say Captain Bulldog.”

            “Thanks, Doctor,” he said.  He had wanted to be a captain forever, but now that he had achieved it—if only for the trip home—he didn’t take any joy in it.  “Keep me posted.”

            “I will.”

            The connection went dead.  Buster turned back to Spot.  He would tell his friend—and the rest of the crew—later.  For now they had other things to worry about.  “How much farther?”

            “We’re clearing the danger area now,” Spot said.

            “Get us to hyperspeed as soon as possible.”

            “We should check with Jeremiah about the structural integrity.”

            Buster nodded at this.  His friend had always been good about remembering the little things.  Though in this case it wasn’t so little.  If the Batpooh’s hull had sustained too much damage, going to hyperspeed would cause it to fly apart.

            With the commpad, Buster called down to the engine room.  Jeremiah sounded almost sleepy as he answered.  “She’ll hold together,” he said.  “She’s a tough old bird.”

            “I’ll take your word for it,” Buster said.  He looked back at Spot.  “We’re clear for hyperspeed.”

            Spot nodded and then pressed a button on his commpad.  The Batpooh lurched forward into hyperspace, carrying away from the outpost and the meteor shower.

            Then there was nothing to do but wait to hear about the damage to the ship—and its crew.