Monthly Short Story for April: The Charon Innovations Incident (2/2)

Hello Commissioned Pioneers! :D As promised, I’d like to present to you the second part to the Charon Innovations Incident two-parter! This story, being Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School’s 27th side story!

This chapter… or shall I say, this two-parter, is a huge dive into something Emma has only hinted at before in the story, but something that may come into play sometime in the future — AI! Or more specifically, the incident at Charon Innovations. This has only been mentioned once or twice in a passing line when Emma was describing how the EVI was most certainly not an AI. So I’m taking this opportunity to show you a glimpse into that titular incident… through the eyes of yet another character who has been around the block once or twice in a few other bonus stories! :D 

We’ve only seen him in more relaxed settings before. But this time? We get to see what Captain Li is really made of, and the type of man he is when push comes to shove.

I really hope you guys like this two-parter, and in the spirit of catching up with the bonus chapters, I’ll be posting this two parter back to back! :D 

Also, I hope I was able to convey the intense vibes of this two parter well, especially in the second part, because I really poured my heart into trying to make it feel like how I imagined it! So I hope you guys like it! :D 

[ALSO TRIGGER WARNINGS: Non-explicit imagery, but mention of limb loss trauma and the recovery process for it.]

10/10/3036

Traffic and Control Center, Ranger Station Seven, Pluto-Charon Transit Corridor (P-CTL), Sol. Local Time: 1730

Lieutenant Commander Calico Li

[ALERT! ALERT! A CLASS IX EMERGENCY HAS BEEN DECLARED! ALL NON-ESSENTIAL PERSONNEL MUST MOVE IMMEDIATELY TO DESIGNATED MUSTER STATIONS!]

Emergency transmissions pierced through the momentary dead air all at once, as if some jammer had finally been lifted, revealing the extent of the emergency down below.

“RANGER STATION SEVEN, DO YOU COPY? THIS IS EVACUVATION SHUTTLE DELTA-BRAVO-NINER! REQUESTING IMMEDIATE ASSISTANCE!”

“RANGER STATI— AGH! WE NEED… WE NEED ASSISTANCE! MULTIPLE INJURED ONBOARD, WE CAN’T—”

“RANGER STATION SEVEN! PLEASE COPY! PLEASE COPY! THIS IS PRIVATE CHARTER CHARLIE INDIA ONE! REQUESTING IMMEDIETE REROUTE TO NEPTUNE!”

“RANGER STATION SEVEN?! OH GOD, WE’RE GETTING THROUGH! IT’S A BLOODBATH DOWN THERE! I DON’T KNOW HOW MANY, BUT THE BASTARD JAMMED US! WE ALL GOT OUT, BUT WE NEED IMMEDIATE ASSISTANCE!”

All eyes landed on me, as I instinctively turned towards the vacant station commander’s chair. 

Two paths appeared before me.

One of deferral to the Captain who was most likely just getting the same update as I was.

And one of immediate action, taking control and responding where I could, now.

I chose the latter.

“Give me a Quick Status Report on the station.” I ordered, as Chuck obliged, pulling up all I needed to see.

We weren’t safe here, not anymore.

“Get a sitrep on all of the transports coming out of Charon, and get an immediate flightpath for all of them to Erebus and Janus.”

“What about Command? Do we need to inform—”

“Inform Erebus and Janus STCs. The Captain’s probably already dealing with Command.”

“Yes, Commander.” Chuck responded with a nod, soon turning to filter through the hundreds of requests, giving me time to address the next elephant in the room.

“Are your transports still here?” I turned to the space camp chaperones.

“Yes—”

“Get the kids out, now.” I ordered, before turning to the cadets. “You remember where the weapons lockers are?”

“Yes, Commander.” All spoke in unison.

“Good. Take them, and cover the civvies’ evac. You’re headed on their flight out of here.”

“But, Commander—”

“No buts. You’re not ready or trained for this yet, but you still got your advanced bootcamp stripes for emergencies and civilian humanitarian protocols, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then use it.” I responded firmly.

The collective hesitation that had lingered in the air suddenly dissipated, replaced instead by conviction and duty as the Cadets promptly began ushering all space camp kids — and their chaperones — down and out of the control room.

“And, Chuck?” 

“Yes, Commander?”

“Disable the service bots.” 

“But that’s the Captain’s prerogative—”

“Just do it.”

“I literally don’t have the authority to do that Cal.” Chuck turned to me, if only for a moment. 

“Fine. Fine…” I muttered out, my eyes turning to the viewscreen that had suddenly become populated with hundreds of red circles, each highlighting the ships that had just barely gotten off of the raging chaos that was Charon.

However, that’s not where my eyes remained, as I quickly turned towards the backlog of outbound flights that had, thankfully, stopped.

That meant Command had probably intervened, and Sol’s Traffic Control had probably already slammed the brakes on all flights bound for this section of space.

“Right.” I spoke again under a strained breath. “All hands on deck.” I continued, turning to face the wary faces of all hundred or so controllers on duty. “We’re going to get everyone out of here, safely.” 

I quickly sat back down at my station, before turning to two notifications that sent shivers down my spine.

[LOCAL CONNECTION TO EXTRANET LOST]

[QEC AREA NETWORK NOT FOUND]

I turned to Chuck, who mirrored the dread coloring my face.

“Something jammed us.” He spoke.

“No.” I countered, turning to a visual representation of the local comms chatter. “It jammed local and stellar comms, not ship-to-ship comms.” 

“What do we—”

“Our job hasn’t changed. Get the evac transports back to Erebus and Janus, and get the outbound flights out safely.”

“Yes, Commander.” Chuck responded nervously, as I donned my headset, before turning to another interface entirely.

Station-Wide Comms.

However, before I even had a chance to get a call out to the Captain, another flash blinded us from Charon’s direction.

After which, a series of alarms promptly sounded.

[ALERT! ALERT! DEBRIS FIELD INBOUND! TRACKING OVER 72,947 CONFIRMED CLASS IVa HAZARDOUS SPACE OBJECTS! IMPACT IN 52 MINUTES!]

To everyone’s credit, silence didn’t descend this time around.

Instead, everyone remained locked to their viewscreens, bound to their stations, as the chatter of space traffic control marched on in spite of the very real threat looming across the horizon.

“Delta Bravo Niner, this is Ranger Station Seven, we’re charting you a course to Janus, stand by.”

“Charlie India One, Ranger Station Seven, course charted to Erebus, hold on.”

To those ends, I quickly tapped on Captain Singh’s communique, and waited. 

Sure enough, the Captain responded, his features stiff and understandably tense.

“Captain, what’s—”

“I’m as in the dark as you are, Commander. Long Range comms are offline, I can’t contact Command, and I can’t patch into local defense flotillas.”

My heart sank as I heard that. “That means—”

“Station defenses can’t take that large of a debris field, not even with static ODC stations.” I breathed out, predicting the Captain’s next few words down to his tone of delivery. 

“We have to abandon the station. I can’t allow the lives of my—”

“I volunteer to stay.” I interjected.

“Lieutenant Commander Li, I am—”

“With all due respect, sir, I cannot in good conscience abandon my post when there are ships still waiting for their jump packets.” 

“You could order them to hold position or move back towards Erebus and Janus.” Captain Singh reasoned.

“We don’t know the state of the backlog, and without a direct line to Sol Traffic Command, we can’t be sure we’d be sending them into the path of still-waiting ships. And asking them to hold position? Anywhere near Charon? While all of this is happening? I can’t allow that sir.” I stood my ground, my eyes locking with the Captain’s through the screen.

“How long do you think it’ll take to clear your traffic list?”

“At the rate things are going? Just under an hour.” I responded bluntly. 

“That’s not enough time for your men to make it to evac, let alone get enough distance from the debris field.”

“I know.” I acknowledged firmly. “Which is why I’ll ask them to hold their stations until the last possible moment before they evacuate. Then, I’ll take over. The traffic load should be reduced enough by then for me to cover it solo until the last possible moment.” 

For the first time since I met the man, Singh didn’t immediately respond. Not with a rebuttal, a command, or even a question or remark.

Instead, he closed his eyes, wrung his hands tightly, before once more locking eyes with me. “I’ll make preparations for a stationwide evacuation, and I’ll make calls for a search and rescue as soon as the debris field passes by. Stars above, Lieutenant Commander.”

“Always above, Captain.”

With one final salute, I turned to Chuck, his wary eyes making it clear he overheard the whole exchange. 

“You’re a stubborn bastard, you know that?”

“I know Chuck.” I breathed in nervously. “I know. But come on now, we have work to do. Let’s get it done quickly.”

The general evacuation order was given shortly thereafter.

[ALERT! ALERT! A GENERAL EVACUATION ORDER HAS BEEN ISSUED! ALL PERSONNEL MUST MOVE IMMEDIATELY TO DOCKING BAY ONE!]

At which point, every member of the control center pushed themselves into overdrive.

Space disasters often fall into either one of two categories — so fast you don’t even realize what’s happening, or slow and insidious with no means of stopping what’s coming. The latter was simply due to the sheer scales involved, and the time it took for things to unfold.

It was the second sort of disaster that was the most chilling. Because then you have time. Time to reflect, time to think, and time to watch the disaster unfolding with existential helplessness.

But I didn’t feel that here.

No.

Instead… I just felt this bizarre mix of empowerment and strange finality.

The whole scene felt bizarre… because it was bizarre.

The illusion of normalcy, of a normal workday, set against a black and red timer that each of us knew meant assured death.

It was a dichotomy of the mundane and the extraordinary, the maintenance of order amidst the inevitability of destruction.

It was as jarring as it was human, and it was soothingly mind numbing until the minute counter hit 15.

[ALERT! ALERT! A FINAL EVACUATION ORDER HAS BEEN ISSUED! ALL REMAINING PERSONNEL MUST MOVE IMMEDIATELY TO DOCKING BAY ONE!]

After which, there was no going back.

“23 ships.” Chuck breathed out darkly. “Cal, if we both stay behind, I’m sure—”

“Seven minutes to the escape shuttle, and seven minutes to accelerate out to a safe distance.” I spoke with stern finality.

“W-we can both get into the escape pods last minute before it hits if we work togeth—”

“Escape shuttles in a debris field are a death sentence. That’s why you’re leaving on a shuttle, Chuck.” I cut the man off before he could waste any more breath. “Just go.” I hissed out, taking a second to lock eyes with him one final time. “That’s an order.” 

The man’s face shifted, moving through what looked like the five stages of grief in under the span of a second before he finally left his seat. 

At which point, he turned to face the rapidly vacating room, but not before turning to address me one final time. “See you portside, friend.” 

“I’ll keep a seat at the bar warm for you, Chuck.” I responded, before diving deep back into the thick of it.

The chatter of the room died down now, as all that remained were the voices of the ships on the other end of the comms, and my own chatter.

“Starry Skies, come in.” 

“Starry Skies, receiving.”

“Starry Skies warp authorization confirmed, Jump codes passed to the attending FTL Oversight Officer. Emergency Passover of all warp safeties authorized, over.”

“Starry Skies, copy. Handover to AOO complete. Stars Above, Ranger Seven.” 

“Always Above, Starry Skies.”

And there I remained, my eyes momentarily moving to watch the live security feeds as the final few personnel packed up and left while I continued crunching the numbers and relaying flight path after flight path, and packet after data packet to the outbound ships.

Time once more blurred into a distant, fleeting concept, as I focused solely on pushing through ship after ship, watching as each liner, freighter, and transport lined up before jumping to safety.

Each one carrying with them hundreds, thousands, and even tens of thousands of lives.

Each one—

[ALERT! ALERT! IMPACT IN 10 SECONDS!]

“No…”

I looked over the consoles, running down the list as I saw— 

Five…

My heart sank, as I turned to the clock.

There was barely any time to deliberate.

It had to be done now.

And so, I hopped on the comms, ignoring the world around me and the humming of CIWS and Point Defense systems blazing across the surface of the station.

“Kite Seven, come in.”

“Kite Seven, receiving, what’s going on Ranger Sta—”

“Kite Seven warp authorization confirmed. Jump codes passed to AOO. Emergency Passover of all warp safeties authorized, over.”

Those final few words were enough to clue the Captain into the true state of the situation, as confusion quickly settled into utter dread.

“Kite Seven, copy. Handover to AOO complete. Stars Above, Ranger Seven.” 

“Always Above, Kite Seven.”

That last transmission was momentarily cut off as the station shook. Stray pieces of e-paper and tablets skirting to the floor, whilst status reports blared across the tinny and damaged voices of the automated systems.

[WARNING! IMPACT ACROSS LEVELS 1, 5, AND 7. EXPLOSIVE DEPRESSURIZATION OF DECKS 1 THROUGH 20, 27 THROUGH 30, 34 THROUGH 38, 41 THROUGH…]

I ignored the alarms, instead waiting for the next set of coordinates to finish compiling.

“Dawnbringer, come in.” 

“Dawnbringer, receiving. You’re tearing apa—”

“Dawnbringer warp authorization confirmed. Jump codes passed to AOO. Emergency Passover of all warp safeties authorized, over.”

“Dawnbringer, copy. Handover to AOO complete. Stars Above, Ranger Seven.” 

“Always Above, Dawnbringer.”

[WARNING! RINGS 1 AND 4 COMPROMISED! STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY COMPROMISED! INITIATING EMERGENCY SPIN-GRAV STOP!]

I felt a force tugging me, attempting to rip me from my seat. The momentum from the sudden cessation of spin gravity would’ve succeeded at doing so… if it wasn’t for the straps, both physical and magnetic, holding me in place.

“Silksong Two, come in.” 

“Silksong Two, receiving. Ranger Seven, you just lost your hab rings—”

“Silksong Two warp authorization confirmed. Jump codes passed to AOO. Emergency Passover of all warp safeties authorized, over.”

“Silksong Two, copy. Handover to AOO complete. Stars Above, Ranger Seven.” 

“Always Above, Silksong Two.”

[WARNING! RINGS 1 AND 4 DECOUPLED! RINGS 3 AND 4 COMPROMISED! WEAPON SYSTEMS OFFLINE! FUSION REACTOR CRITICAL]

“Everblue Seven-Five, come in.” 

“Everblue Seven-five, receiving. Ranger Seven, your fusion core’s exposed—”

“Everblue Seven-Five warp authorization confirmed. Jump codes passed to AOO. Emergency Passover of all warp safeties authorized, over.”

“Everblue Seven-five. Handover to AOO complete. Stars Above, Ranger Seven.” 

“Always Above, Everblue Seven-Five.” I quickly spoke.

Then—

Fwwoooosh….

—the power went out.

My eyes went wide as I sprinted in mag-boots towards the nearest emergency spacesuit.

From there, I turned towards the local backup battery, running through practiced motions against a station that tried its best to wrestle me from my position.

CA-CLUNK!

[Local Power Restored.]

“Redirect all reserve power to the server and comms”

[Acknowledged.]

There were no more claxons, no more ominous red emergency lights, nothing.

Instead, there were only the deathly groans and hair raising whines of steel and composalite.

And within a room once crowded with life, once bristling with a brightness without end, there now existed silence and darkness.

Darkness… save for one waiting terminal glowing ominously against the dying dark, and a chair that was swiveled in my general direction, beckoning me to return.

I breathed in, sprinting to meet its hard yet welcoming embrace as I turned towards the last ship in queue.

“Destiny Seven, come in.” 

“Destiny Seven, receiving.” The Captain’s voice came through, the end of his sentences breaking up into static.

“Destiny Seven, warp authorization confirmed. Jump codes passed to AOO. Emergency Passover of all warp safeties authorized, over.”

“Destiny Seven. Handover to AOO complete. Stars Above, Ranger Seven.” 

“Always Above, Destiny Seven.” I spoke calmly, comforted by what I saw as I turned to meet the status console.

Flight Log Empty. No remaining requests. Standing by for orders…

I let out a laugh, one that grew louder and louder as I watched the station itself tearing apart at the seams from the only remaining viewport without its shutters somehow missing.

This caused me to raise a brow, as I turned to witness stress lines forming all across the control room.

Shit.

The last thing I recall was a mad dash for an escape pod.

Then, an unimaginably powerful force sucking me whole out into the abyss.

Finally, without mercy nor ceremony, I blanked out.

…

The darkness was welcoming.

=====

18/10/3036

Private Ward 25. Level 5. Huerta Memorial Hospital. Earth Ring. Sol. Local Time: 1200

Lieutenant Commander Calico Li

Haziness… that’s what I felt.

I didn’t know if I’d woken up before, or if this was my first time.

But what I did know was that I felt as if the darkness itself had released its grip on my consciousness.

Then…

Cough cough cough!

I began wheezing.

This elicited the attention of the resident nurse, as she began calling in for a flurry of medical staff for assistance.

The next few hours… were uncomfortable.

Tubes were taken out, one by discomforting one, as my lungs were put on accelerated recovery mode (or at least that’s how I understood it), until I could finally breathe on my own again.

Throughout the whole process, I was informed of… a lot of things that didn’t stick. For the most part though, I did what I did best — follow orders… reluctantly, and with a lot of fuss.

By day’s end however, the ordeal was over, and I was finally ready to brace myself to sit up.

I reached for both sides of the bed—

Only to almost immediately lose my balance, as that same nurse arrived with a wary expression.

“Commander Li… perhaps you should rest for—”

“Something’s not…” I spoke through a half delirious daze, attempting to form words where only bits and pieces seemed to come and go as they pleased. “... not right. Something’s not…” 

“Commander, I’d prefer if a doctor—”

The nurse was interrupted by the arrival of the woman in question, as she arrived, clipboard and assistants in hand.

“Commander, as I told you earlier, the injuries you sustained were severe.” She began softly, speaking to me at my bedside. “The fact you’re even alive and speaking with us is extraordinary, and I can attest that half of that battle was fought by you and your spirit alone.” She paused, taking a moment to steady her tone of voice. “We did everything in our power to save, restore, and stabilize your condition.” Her eyes eventually softened, all the while maintaining firm eye contact with me, not once even daring to look away. “But your survival… it came with a cost, Commander. The damage to your space suit — while mitigated by automatic emergency compartmentalization — meant that the damage you sustained to your right arm was severe.”

Another pause fell on the conversation, as if she was waiting for me to butt in, or to form my own conclusions.

When she discovered I didn’t, she simply continued. “We had to prioritize your survival, and at the point of admission, your right arm was no longer capable of being saved.” 

All the haziness, the stupor, and the feeling of flighty weightlessness ended in that one sentence.

Everything within me wanted to take a good look at that arm, wanted to confirm once and for all what was — or in this case wasn’t there.

I scrunched up my eyes, letting out a wheezing breath, and braced myself to look—

I didn’t know what I expected.

But to see nothing where there should’ve been something? That… I just…

“I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear. But I need you to understand that you are still here, Commander. And we are still with you, from here, and for as long as you need. With time, and with the right treatment and rehabilitation, the road to recovery is guaranteed. We can schedule an appointment with the Restorative and Regenerative Medicine department if you’re inclined towards a new cloned limb, or the Cybernetic and Bionics Medicine department, if you want to instead opt for a cybernetic replacement. Either way, the Rehabilitation specialist will be with you to provide consultancy and—”

“Did I get them out?” I interrupted, as that burning question finally erupted, completely sidestepping everything else; most of all my current circumstances.

“Excuse me—”

“Did… did I manage to send those ships out safely? Or was it a recovery induced dream?” I questioned firmly, making my intent clear.

The doctor… was taken aback by this, as were the rest of the medical staff in attendance.

With a flick of her eyes, she gestured towards a screen at the foot of my bed, as it turned on to reveal a news report.

“... it is said that in the darkest of tragedies, the human spirit shines even brighter in defiance. While the darkness of Charon Innovations comes as a shock to us all, the extent of its tragedy would have been far darker if it weren’t for the sacrifices of those souls aboard Ranger Station Seven.”

“There are reports from outbound flights that space traffic controllers remained even after the station was compromised, isn’t that right, Jeremy?”

“Yes Lynda, we’ve reached out for an official statement from the office of the L-REF’s First Commander, who confirmed that while the space traffic control crew did stay until the last possible moment, that it was instead the station’s XO that remained behind to ensure that not only were the outbound flights departing safely, but that his crew and civilian counterparts left the station before the debris field could risk damaging their shuttles.”

“And were we able to confirm the fate of this officer?”

“Yes Lynda. As of yesterday we were able to receive confirmation from a spokesperson at Huerta Memorial that Lieutenant Commander Li’s condition is stable, and that he’s expected to be making a full recovery by week’s end.”

“That’s truly incredible news, Jeremy. We’ll make sure to keep you folks at home updated on the latest developments. Both on the massive inquiry on Charon Innovations, and on the recovery of the Hero of Charon.”

“I heard it was the Hero of Ranger Station Seven?”

“We’ll just have to wait and see what Commander Li thinks… provided he of course wants to make a statement. But I know the passengers and crew of the outbound flights, and especially those happy space campers, would certainly like to make their appreciation known.”

The doctor promptly handed control of the TV over to me, as I promptly turned it off in short order.

“Thank you.” I replied simply.

“You should be getting some more rest, Lieutenant Commander. There’s… a long line of people waiting to visit you, and I’m certain you won’t be hearing the end of this incident for quite some time.”

I snickered at that, letting out a sigh as I turned up to face the blank metal ceiling.

The doctor took this cue to leave as she excused herself, before making way towards the exit.

But not before I was able to address the next biggest elephant in the room.

“So what happened at Charon, doc?” I finally managed out.

“I’m not one to comment on matters outside of my field, Lieutenant Commander.” She responded, turning just before she reached the cusp of the doorframe. “But from what I’ve heard, it seems to be quote: ‘the same thing that happened every other time’.” 

“Right.” I acknowledged with a sigh. “Alright… thanks, Doctor.”

“Have a good night, Lieutenant Commander.”

With a final exchange of nods, I was once more left alone.

It didn’t take long for the resident nurse to pipe up, of course. Her expression clearly hinted at the boredom that had been gnawing at her; no doubt spurred on by watching over an unconscious man for over a week.

“So… what do you plan to do next, Lieutenant Commander? I heard you’re lined up for a few medals and promotions. I haven’t heard this much fuss being stirred up since the Airlock Angel.”

“Who?”

“The Airlock Angel? Sergeant Major Ran Booker?” 

“Huh. I’ve never heard that one before.”

“People get creative with names, I guess.” She snickered. “You’ll soon be joining those ranks too, I reckon.”

“Not sure how I feel about that to be honest.” I shrugged in response. “An arm for fame is not a fair trade, I think…”

“I wouldn’t put it like that, sir.” The nurse urged. “Now, let’s focus on something else, ay? Like where you’re headed from here. A big fancy office and a desk retirement? Oooh! Commanding a big ship or fleet maybe?” Her eyes twinkled with anticipation.

Anticipation… that I brought down to earth with a plain and simple answer.

“I might just continue instructing.” I shrugged. “Though, of course, maybe at more prime and prestigious postings.”