The roll gradually subsided, something was still working. Next the lights returned. Everyone appeared intact, strapped in their chairs, although the secondary gunner was clutching his head in discomfort and Marchero looked green.
Random fluctuations on the systems monitors gradually calmed down to show that the shields had failed, and the energy reserves were low, and not climbing.
The intercom crackled into life, with a rather predictable and angry "What the hell's happening?"
"We've been pulled into a something," Aeyris told them unhelpfully. "What's your status?"
"Everyone is bruised, five people have various broken bones, and Garath is unconscious."
"Can you deal?"
"Tarmarchi thinks everyone will live."
"Good. Get someone into the equipment sector and see if you can restore gravity, and try to get some external scanners on line."
"Have you got a decent engineer?" Kirrik asked Aeyris.
"Not any more," Aeyris replied sourly. "He was the man that tech killed."
"Sorry."
"Humph. Well, I've others who know a bit or two. They should do if it's a matter of patching some obvious damage."
Two hours passed. The repair teams discovered that the sensors had all shut down to protect themselves, and their control software would not re-initialise. Further investigations revealed some damage to the computer core, the unofficial construction of the vessel had provided inadequate power breakers. When the damaged processors were removed the sensors slowly returned to functionality. They pronounced the system usable, but advised that there might be a noticeable delay if too much was done at once.
When the viewscreen returned it revealed a strange tunnel. Patterns of multi-hued light shifted about it in an almost hypnotic pattern. Movement through it may have been imagined, although it could just have easily been an optical illusion.
The other sensors confirmed Aeyris' suspicion that they were indeed in a Witchspace tunnel of some description, but unlike anything that anyone had experienced before. The drive systems had been re-started, although the engines were not running. The power from them was being used to re-charge the energy banks and the shields, although progress was slow. Their were strains on them that no ordinary hyperspace jump would produce.
Once the ship was in as good an order as could be achieved its crew had little choice but to wait. The unconscious Garath soon woke, and the broken bones were splinted and bandaged with various bits and pieces that had been scavenged from the rest of the ship. The only medicines on board had been painkillers and anaesthetics, along with some bandages and dressings. Without any regenerative equipment the injured just had to cope.
Another three days went by. The life support seemed to be coping fine with the extra demands being placed upon it. A shift system had been established for the bridge stations, mostly because there weren't enough bunks for everyone to sleep at the same time. The three days' worth of food had not yet been eaten, but on short rations all were hungry. The water recycler had been repaired after a fashion, but it was unable to keep up with the demand.
There were a few minor incidents, scuffles brought on my anxiety and worry. As time went by they became more frequent but less severe. People were feeling the effects of the rationing, and lacked the energy to continue a fight for long. The rest tried to take their mind off things by playing games in a cramped wardroom behind the bridge.
Then the ship dropped back into normal space. Unlike the entry to the tunnel this was a much more gentle affair. The bridge team even failed to notice anything for a few minutes, then Arrachachak, who was squeezed tightly into the front seat, glanced up and shouted "We're out!"
Another bridge member, the insectoid Tikapora, left the bridge to rouse Kirrik and Aeyris, who were both asleep at the time.
When they arrived they looked around in some hope at their surroundings. Arrachachak had turned the ship around. Blotting out the stars behind it was a dark ring. Wherever they were it was dark, darker than the place they had left. No lights illuminated this device, but other than that it was, as far as could be discerned, identical to the one they had entered three days earlier. Sensors showed it to be dead, exhibiting no sign of energy production or usage.
"That's why they had the shuttles at the other end," Kirrik mused. "Where are we?" he asked louder.
Marchero was again at the navigation station. "Uncertain," she said. "The computer is having some difficulty in finding a matching chart to this region."
"Where are we, neglecting names?"
"What?"
"I mean what's the nearest star."
"Why didn't you say so, then," Marchero replied acidly. "There's an M2 class dwarf point six-five light years away."
"We need supplies, and I think that thing," Aeyris pointed at the dark circle on the screen, "needs power if it's going to take us back. Let's drop a buoy and get to the nearest station."