got to our destination. Needle-jumpers were not used for pleasure cruises or surprise birthday parties, after all.
I watched the small status display across from me. It counted down our distance to the wormhole's event horizon. The distance was shrinking quickly, as our ship fled the Nautilus. In the few seconds since our launch, the Nautilus would undoubtedly be out of sight, if we had had a rear port to look out of. As it was, my eyes were fixed on the distance counter. We traveled dozens of kilometers in a matter of seconds, something only the best technology out there could accomplish without killing us.
I heard my headset beep back to life. "Here it comes!" I yelled.
A moment later, we crossed the event horizon.
A wormhole jump is a bizarre thing. People did it every day. It was a very safe way to travel, all things considered. Humans had been using the technology for way over a century, closer to two, after all. Other races had been using it for far longer. I had long since lost track of how many jumps I'd done. Jumping was to us what hopping on a jet aircraft would have been to my great great grandfather. Still, it rattled me every time.
The first thing I felt was the splash. There wasn't any water, but still, my whole body felt as though someone had throw a bucket of thick goo on me. For a moment, I couldn't breathe. My lungs refused to work, and I just sat there, frozen. My eyes seemed locked open, and my muscles stopped responding. It was less like being held down than it was having your strings cut, like a puppet. That lasted a few terrifying seconds.
That was the Splash. Next came the Dash.
A second wave washed over me, electric, like a million needles digging into my at once, each attached to a live wire. I felt every muscle in my body spasm. I felt the desperate need to move, like a kid with ants in his pants. I shook from the feeling of it, flexed every muscle, wiggled my fingers, crunched my toes, and threw my head from side to side. This was the second jump in just over ten minutes, and despite being used to it, my body was not completely recovered from the first one. This just added to the Dash. I twitched as though I was having a seizure.
Then the wave of nausea hit me. Again, I didn't suffer the way Kyle did, but that didn't mean it was fun. The entire world seemed to shift left and right in front of me. I gripped my restraining straps tightly, despite knowing that it was all in my head. I clenched my eyes shut, and took in a deep breath. The suit detected my condition, and lowered the suit's air temperature until I recovered.
When it was all over, we were on the other side of the wormhole. We were still traveling at extreme speeds, but the first of the rough part was over. It would be fifteen minutes before we got to the really bad part, the insertion. That would be enough time to screw our heads back on, and assess the situation.
"Talk to me," I called out as my helmet retracted.
"Raj good," came the first reply.
"David good," followed right away.
Kyle didn't answer.
"Kyle?" I called out. "You gonna live?"
"Uh huh," he said with that slur. I heard him gulp loudly. "Please don't make me talk right now."
Good enough for the moment, I thought. I looked at the display across from me. It was picking up the Saturnus, but there was a great deal of interference. The long range sensors couldn't see anything beyond the ship's silhouette. No readings, no transmissions. It was like the ship was a dead hulk. We would be close enough to see the ship in about ten minutes, and I hoped that we would have something by then.
"Fire 'em up, guys," I ordered.
I felt my rifle start to hum as it switched on. The lights glowed green and I saw that it was ready to go. I got thumbs up from everyone, even Kyle, who was still slumped in his seat. At least he was functioning. He'd be fine by the time we reached the Saturnus.
The next ten minutes were tedious, quiet. Our ship's sensors still couldn't get any reading from the Saturnus. We were sending out the usual hailing signals, transmitting on the emergency frequencies that had been preset for the Saturnus' mission. Nothing, not even static came back at us.
"There we go!" Kyle said, pointing toward the display.
"She's bigger than I thought," David said with amazement.
Even from our great distance, the ship was obviously huge. Cruisers like the Saturnus were usually far smaller than a battleship. We all knew the basic dimensions of the ship, but the Saturnus somehow seemed bigger, to look at her. Maybe it was the forward pylons, or the odd shape. Or maybe it was that we were coming at her like a bullet.
She loomed there, quiet, unmoving.
"Her running lights are on," David noted.
The lights covered the hull, illuminating its length. The lights only covered some of it, mostly docking ports, engines and so forth. It created the same effect as a flashlight shone into someone's face from below. Just like that old campfire classic, it created menacing shadows, a glowering vessel which only half-revealed itself to us as we approached.
"Running lights don't mean much," Raj added. "They would run on battery power if the engines were down."
David nodded, scowling at the screen. "Yeah, but if there were problems on board, the computer would trip the emergency lights. I don't see any red flashers. They would kick in even if nobody switched them on. The ship's computer would have done it the moment it registered damage to its systems."
"Considering what the Saturnus is doing out here," I mused, "they may have that sort of thing turned off."
"Then why have running lights at all?" David asked.
"Why don't we just knock on the hatch, and ask?" Kyle said, shaking his head.
As our ship got ever closer, the Saturnus began to loom large on the screen. The monitor told us that we were only three kilometers away, but the way the Saturnus filled the screen, it felt like we were close enough to reach out and touch her.
Maybe it was time to do just that, if in a less physical way. I reached for the headset of our ship's communication console. I tapped in the proper frequency.
"UES Saturnus," I started. "United Earth Ship Saturnus, this is marine call-sign Zulu-two-three, come in."
The headset was silent. I repeated the hail. Nothing.
I tried a third time. "UES Saturnus, this is Zulu-two-three on approach. I come with priority orders from Echo-two." I hoped using Admiral Bishop's call-sign would get their attention. It didn't.
I turned to the guys, and shook my head. They frowned, all except for Raj. I could see that cruel grin of his start to curl up the left side of his face.
I gave one more hail, with David watching the monitor for any sign that they heard us. Maybe their comm gear was down, or the antenna itself was damaged. If so, they should have been blinking their running lights as a signal. Nothing.
I sighed. "Alright, I guess we do this the hard way." I looked to David. "Are we getting automated approach
