NOVEL NEXT Chapter 34 - Pressure
The Peregrine's cabin was dim, lit by the soft blue glow of the amber standby lights strung along the overhead struts. Outside the cockpit windows, the massive interior of the Triumph's hangar loomed. Less than 24 hours remained until they reached orbit.
Inside, the dropship echoed with another of Luca's frustrated sighs as he crouched beside an open supply crate wedged near the rear ramp. Emily stood a few feet away near the wall, tablet in hand, her hair in a tight bun as she shook her head at inventory numbers that refused to change, no matter how many times she refreshed the display.
They'd been at this for over an hour, hoping that the missing gear might materialize in some overlooked crate or mislabeled locker.
"This is bullshit," Luca muttered, rising to his feet. He gestured at the pathetically sparse contents of the crate, frustration bleeding. "One armor suit each? What happens if mine gets a tear? Or if yours malfunctions?" He kicked the crate lightly, the hollow sound echoing through the cavernous space. "The backup armor suits were still in the jet-bridge when we left the station."
Emily's eyes met his, concern evident but tempered with her usual pragmatism. "We had maybe ten minutes before they breached the docking bay," she said gently. "The suits are rated for extreme conditions. As long as we're careful—"
"Careful." Luca ran a hand through his hair, his voice tight with self-recrimination rather than anger at her. "Em, we're about to land on an alien planet billions of miles from home, and half our combat gear is back in the Genesis Platform." He gestured toward the corner where their primary armor sets were stacked. "We don't even know who tried to take the ship or why." His jaw clenched. "I should have kept essential supplies on board instead of trusting the loading schedule."
She set down her tablet and moved closer, her proximity calming him despite his frustration. That effect she had on him was becoming harder to ignore with each passing day.
"We knew this wouldn't be easy," she said softly. Her hand was on his arm, the touch so light he might have imagined it. "But we're still making history, limited supplies or not."
Luca nodded reluctantly, glancing at the pathetically small stack of fuel cells nearby. "Four planetside trips," he said. "That's all we get. Four chances to explore the damn star system."
"Four guaranteed trips," Emily corrected, her eyes brightening slightly. "Ryan thinks he can stretch it to six if we adjust the thrust parameters and reduce the payload on each descent."
"That still leaves us with no margin for error." Luca ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. "This is on me, Em. We had contingencies for sabotage, but I never imagined they'd move that fast."
Emily's expression softened. "We all missed it, Luca. Not just you." Her hand found his shoulder, squeezing gently. "We'll adapt, like you said. It's what we do best."
He wanted to believe her. Maybe he even did. But the knot in his stomach hadn't loosened since they'd discovered the discrepancies in the inventory. They were alone out here, truly alone, with equipment that barely met their minimum needs.
"I'm going to have to—" Luca began.
The ship's alarm cut him off mid-sentence, a harsh blaring that made his blood run cold.
"WARNING: STELLAR FLARE DETECTED. X-RAY AND GAMMA SPIKE CONFIRMED. ALL PERSONNEL: PROCEED TO RADIATION SHELTER IMMEDIATELY. THIS IS NOT A DRILL."
Their eyes met for a frozen second, mutual fear reflected in their gazes before training kicked in.
Without a word, they bolted for the hangar exit.
"How long do we have?" Emily shouted over the blaring alarm as they sprinted down the corridor.
"Two minutes, maybe three?!" Luca yelled back, his heart hammering in his chest. "Proximity depends on the—"
A violent shudder ran through the ship, cutting him off. Above them, lead-lined steel shutters began slamming closed over portholes with mechanical finality, sealing them off from the deadly radiation that would soon flood the system.
Luca felt rather than heard the ship's systems beginning their automated shutdown sequence: the change in air pressure, the flicker of lights as non-essential power rerouted to the shields. They had drilled for this, but it was different now. Real. Terrifying.
"Go!" he urged, shoving Emily ahead of him as they reached a junction. "I need to make sure everyone else gets to the shelter!"
She hesitated for a split second, looking back before sprinting ahead, disappearing around the corner toward the armory. Luca ran up the stairs, his feet pounding against the metal grates as he raced toward the science lab where Danny would likely be working.
The stairs seemed endless, stretching above him like a nightmare where no matter how fast he ran, he couldn't reach his destination. His lungs burned. Sweat trickled down his spine. The alarm continued its relentless wail, punctuated now by the automated voice counting down.
"RADIATION LEVELS RISING. ESTIMATED PROTON WAVE ARRIVAL IN 120 SECONDS. PROCEED TO SHELTER IMMEDIATELY."
He skidded into the lab, finding it mercifully empty. Danny must have already headed for the shelter. Spinning on his heel, Luca bolted back the way he'd come, his mind racing through crew locations. Joey would be in the infirmary. Zoe on the bridge. Ryan in engineering. Chris might be anywhere.
The ship groaned around him, the hull contracting as external temperature fluctuated. Another shudder, more violent than the first. They were running out of time.
Luca flew down the stairs and around the corner, the radiation shelter now visible at the end of the hall. It was a reinforced doorway set into the wall behind the armory, designed to withstand even the most intense stellar event. He saw Joey helping Zoe through the door, Danny was already inside. Emily stood at the threshold, her eyes scanning the corridor, landing on him with visible relief.
"Luca!" she shouted. "Where's Chris and Ryan?"
"Haven't seen them!" he gasped, reaching her side and turning to face back the way he'd come. "Get inside!"
She shook her head firmly. "Not without you."
"T-MINUS 60 SECONDS TO CRITICAL RADIATION EXPOSURE. PROCEED TO SHELTER IMMEDIATELY."
The countdown made his stomach clench. The sound of it, so calm and final, made the corridor feel suddenly too quiet. They couldn't wait much longer. The shelter door needed to be sealed as the radiation kept increasing, or none of them would be protected.
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The pounding of footsteps made them both turn. Ryan came barreling around the corner, Chris close behind him, both of them running full-tilt.
"Move!" Ryan shouted, pushing Chris ahead of him. "Fucking move!"
Luca did a quick head count as they approached. Six. All accounted for. The panic crushing his chest eased slightly, replaced by focused urgency.
"Inside, now!" he ordered, ushering everyone through the doorway. Chris first, then Ryan. He pushed Emily ahead of him.
"T-MINUS 30 SECONDS TO CRITICAL RADIATION EXPOSURE. ALL PERSONNEL MUST BE SECURED IN SHIELDED COMPARTMENTS."
Ryan's face was pale, his breathing ragged. "The engine room," he gasped. "We had to shut down the secondaries manually. Everything was spiking."
"Later," Luca cut him off, doing one final check of the corridor as the lights turned off, before backing into the shelter himself. His hands found the massive wheel lock, and Ryan helped him spin it clockwise. The door's seals hissed, engaging the hydraulic locks. One turn, two, three. Each rotation bringing another metallic clank as bolts slid into place.
"T-MINUS 15 SECONDS TO PARTICLE IMPACT. RADIATION LEVELS EXCEEDING SAFE LIMITS. PROCEED TO SHELTER IMMEDIATELY."
The final turn of the wheel brought a deep, resonant clunk that vibrated through the deck plates.
They were sealed in.
Safe, for now.
Luca turned to face his crew in the dim emergency lighting of the shelter, taking in their expressions in the eerie red glow. The ship had gone unnervingly quiet, most systems now powered down to protect them from the coming electromagnetic storm.
"Everyone okay?" he asked, his voice sounding strange in the sudden absence of the alarm.
The countdown in the corridor outside fell silent. The flare had reached them.
The radiation shelter was essentially a metal box, ten feet by twelve feet. With all seven of them crammed inside, the air felt thick and warm, their bodies pressed against each other in the dim red glow of emergency lighting. Luca found himself wedged between Emily and the sealed door, the weight of her shoulder against his chest oddly comforting despite the circumstances. Water packets, emergency rations, and medical kits took up the shelter's walls, leaving barely enough floor space for them to sit with knees drawn up or legs tangled together.
No one spoke for several long minutes. The only sounds were their breathing and the occasional distant groan of the ship's hull as radiation washed over it. The absence of the usual hums, clicks, and whirs made the silence around them unnerving. With most systems powered down, the Triumph of Darron felt dead around them.
"How long will it last?" Zoe finally asked, her voice unnaturally loud in the quiet space. She sat with her back against the far wall, her legs stretched across Danny's.
Danny pushed his glasses up his nose, the lenses catching the red emergency light. "Depends on the magnitude," he said. "Could be twenty minutes, could be hours." He cleared his throat, slipping automatically into his scientific explanation mode. "Proxima Centauri is a red dwarf, which means it's more prone to stellar flares than our sun. They're smaller but more frequent, and they can release massive amounts of X-ray and ultraviolet radiation."
"Which is extremely bad for human tissue," Joey added from his corner, his medical skills evident coming to the forefront. "The radiation damages DNA, causing cellular mutations that can lead to radiation sickness, cancer, or death, depending on exposure levels."
Luca felt Emily tense against him. "How protected are we in here?" she asked.
"Very," Ryan answered before Danny could. "The shelter's walls contain a radiation-absorbing polymer sandwiched between lead-titanium alloy plates." He managed a tight smile. "We're safer in here than anywhere else on the ship."
"What about the ship itself?" Luca asked, trying to keep his voice steady. "How much damage are we looking at?"
Danny and Ryan exchanged a glance in the dim light.
"The hull's designed to withstand cosmic radiation," Danny said slowly. "But a direct hit from a stellar flare is different. The particle density is exponentially higher."
"Most of our systems should be fine," Ryan continued. "The automatic shutdown sequence protects the sensitive electronics. But anything that was running during the initial wave might be fried." He grimaced. "And if the shields fail at all, we could see damage to navigation, life support, propulsion..."
"Anything with exposed circuitry," Danny finished for him. "The good news is, stellar flares from Proxima typically last minutes, not hours. Once it passes, we can run diagnostics and see what we're dealing with."
Joey shifted, his medical kit open on his lap. "The human body is less resilient than the ship's systems," he said grimly. "Even brief exposure to high-level radiation can cause immediate symptoms, like nausea, vomiting, skin burns, headaches." His eyes moved from face to face in the dim light. "If anyone starts feeling unwell, speak up immediately."
The shelter felt smaller with each passing minute, the air growing thicker and warmer. Luca was acutely aware of every point where Emily's body pressed against his; her shoulder against his chest, her hip against his thigh. Under any other circumstances, he might have enjoyed the proximity.
A dull thud reverberated through the ship, followed by a high, thin whine that made them all freeze.
"What was that?" Zoe whispered.
"Pressure differential," Ryan answered, his voice tight. "When different parts of the hull heat at different rates, it creates stress points." He forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Totally normal for these kind of events."
Luca wasn't convinced, but he nodded anyway. No point adding to the tension by calling out Ryan on his bullshit.
He glanced at Emily and froze. A thin trickle of blood was making its way from her left nostril, crawling over her upper lip like a crimson snake.
"Em," he said, his voice sharper than he intended. "Your nose."
Her hand flew to her face, fingertips coming away red in the emergency lighting. Her eyes widened slightly.
Joey was moving, medical training overriding the cramped conditions as he pushed forward to reach her. "Tilt your head back," he ordered, already digging through his medical kit. "How long has this been happening? Any dizziness? Headache?"
"I didn't even notice it," Emily said, her voice steady despite the blood now dripping steadily from her nose. "No dizziness. Maybe a slight headache, but we've all been stressed."
The shelter suddenly felt ten degrees colder. Nosebleeds were one of the first signs of radiation exposure.
Everyone knew that.
Luca's heart began hammering against his ribs. "Could it be from the pressure changes?" he asked Joey, trying to keep the fear from his voice. "Or the dry air in here?"
Joey didn't answer immediately, which was answer enough. He pressed a gauze pad to Emily's nose, his expression unreadable in the red glow. "I need to check everyone," he said finally. "Radiation symptoms can present quickly, especially with high-dose exposure."
The emergency lights flickered, plunging them into complete darkness for a heart-stopping second before returning to their dim red glow. The coincidence wasn't lost on anyone.
"That shouldn't happen," Ryan muttered. "The emergency systems have isolated power cells."
"Unless something's damaged the shelter itself," Danny said quietly.
Joey moved methodically from person to person, checking pupils, pulse, and skin for redness or burns. The shelter had fallen completely silent except for the sound of his movements and occasional instructions.
When he reached Chris, who had been unusually quiet throughout the ordeal, Luca noticed how pale his face was for the first time. Chris sat with his back against the wall, his normally tanned face ashen, a sheen of sweat visible on his forehead.
"You okay?" Luca asked him.
Chris nodded weakly. "Just hot," he mumbled. "Hard to breathe in here."
Joey frowned, placing two fingers against Chris's neck to check his pulse. "Your heart's racing," he said. "How's your vision? Any blurriness?"
"A little," Chris admitted. "And my stomach feels..." He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing. "Not great."
The lights flickered again, longer this time. Three seconds of absolute darkness in which they could only hear each other's breathing, suddenly faster and more ragged.
"How much longer?" Zoe asked when the red glow returned, her voice higher than usual. "Shouldn't the flare have passed by now?"
"Unless it's a major event," Danny replied softly. "Sometimes they come in waves."
Joey was still focused on Chris, his brow furrowed in concentration as he shined a small penlight into the man's eyes. "Pupils are dilated," he murmured. "Chris, I need you to follow my finger with your eyes, okay? Just focus on my—"
Chris's eyes suddenly rolled back, whites showing eerily in the red emergency lighting. His body went rigid for a split second, then slumped sideways into Ryan's lap.
"Chris!" Joey's voice cut through the shelter like a whip. "Chris, can you hear me?"
There was no response from the unconscious man. Joey immediately pressed his fingers to Chris's neck again, his face tight with concentration.
"What's happening?" Emily asked, the gauze still pressed to her nose, her voice thick with fear. "Is it radiation sickness?"
Joey didn't answer, already tilting Chris's head back to check his airway. The emergency lights flickered again, casting the scene in strobing crimson that made Chris's unconscious face look like something from a nightmare.
"Joey," Luca said, his captain's voice finally failing him, fear breaking through. "Talk to us. What's happening to him?"
In the uncertain light, with Chris motionless on the floor and Emily's blood still dripping slowly onto her collar, Joey's silence was the most terrifying answer of all.