Ulysses Tarrant

Biography

ULYSSES TARRANT - Co-pilot/engineer, mid-50’s, very adept at
his work, both mechanical and piloting. Father figure on ship, very
opinionated, hates injustice.



Turning off the microphone, Ulysses turned to Gillian. “Shit,
there has to be hundreds of those things just waiting to attack him,”
he replied. “The kid’s never gonna make it.”
“We are too far away to help him.” Gillian added.
“Does this place have lights on the outside?” Ulysses asked
Gillian. “It has to, right? To illuminate the dark surface at night.”
Ulysses racked his brain for a possible solution for Seth.
“I’ll look for the switch.” Gillian searched the room.
Ulysses flicked the switch to the mike. “Seth, I suggest you move
slowly, I repeat, move slowly back to the station,” Ulysses told the
frightened youth.
“I’m scared.” Seth’s voice was heavy and his breathing deep and
labored. “I’m sweating inside this thing.”
Ulysses caught more of the alien-like species coming through
the holes in the ice behind Seth. “I’m coming for you. Take a breath,
I’ll be right there, son.”
“I don’t see anything for outdoor lights,” Gillian said.
“Here, try to keep him calm,” Ulysses said, running for the
door.
“Where are you going?”
“Target practice. Where’s the artillery room?” Ulysses asked. He
then quickly searched the laminated map on the side of the wall near
the exit door.
“Down the hall,” Gillian responded.
“I’ll be back.” Ulysses ran as fast he could to the artillery room.
The corridor was long and winding, but Ulysses made it to the
artillery room. He punched the red button on the side of the door.
Nothing.
The glass door wouldn’t budge. Again he slammed the button,
but to no avail.
“This is gonna hurt,” Ulysses mumbled, taking several steps
back. The engineer then began a hard run at the glass door.
Ulysses felt incredibly heroic yet monumentally stupid for trying
to launch himself through the glass door. But, he kept thinking
about Bruce Willis and his movies. Shit, if Bruce can do it, he could
do it, too.
Ulysses made contact, lurching through the glass, sending shards
flying everywhere. The scrappy engineer landed awkwardly, but safely
crashed into the gun cabinet, fracturing the wooden case. He rubbed
his bruised ankle, and picked away a few embedded shards of glass
from the side of his face and arms. Otherwise, Ulysses was flying so
high on adrenaline, he really didn’t care about the pain.
The alarm screeched throughout the station.