Captain's Log: xx.xx.25xx ESD
Outer Rim, North-East Sector
Emergency Response Coalition Fleet
Xczassapdaszxzaassa~~~
The first thing I saw was a pulsing red light pushing through my eyelids. By the feel of it, I was on the floor somehow with my back up against a hard surface. Patting my hand up the side of it, I found an edge and pulled myself to my feet. Opening my eyes, I had somehow landed on the opposite side of the bridge from my station. All around me I could see men and women running back and forth trying to smother fires and tending to the wounded. There were far too many people wounded.
A crewman shook me by the shoulder while shouting something in my ear. I couldn't hear a word he said, his muffled voice just added to the dull roar in my ears. The red warning light bathed the man in the same colour as the entire compartment around him. As I stood there stunned in the middle of the chaos, my senses started to return to me. The noise was nearly deafening. First thing that came was that annoying high-pitched ringing that played in any movie when the protagonist was too close to an explosion.
As I took in the situation, the ringing died down a good bit. Whatever the hell had hit them had blown a good portion of the circuits on the bridge. A new of the consoles were on fire, and numerous hanging wires sparked as they dangled precariously overhead making the crew dodge them as best they could.
Then it hit me. Shit. Where was the Captain?
The Captain would be able to answer questions and help things get under control. I hadn't seen her anywhere so I shouted a question at a few passing crew members as they ran passed. Noone seemed to have seen her.
By my best guess, it seemed whatever hit us did so bow-to-stern. By that math...
The captain had been standing at the captain station, and if she followed the same angle as the rest of the damage...
There.
I sprinted down the hallway opposite him. I could feel adrenaline pumping through me and pulling the ache out of my limbs as I vaulted over a broken console and jumped up the stairs to the main level in two strides. I found her halfway down the corridor to the CIC.
"Captain!"
"Your scrawny ass is still alive?" The response came amidst a laugh that turned quickly into a coughing fit. As I knelt at her side, fresh blood brought up by the coughing added itself to the generous amount already running down from her mouth and over her chin.
"Hold on you old battleaxe, you're going to be ok. I'll get someone to help!" I could feel her tug on my sleeve as I called for help.
"You're not that stupid, kid. You know I'm not going to make it out of here,..."
"I'm not a kid, Grandma," I said cutting her off. "I'm barely ten years younger than you! But you have to conserve your strength. Help's coming. The crew needs you so just hang in there, alright?" But I already knew they wouldn't get here fast enough, and her wounds were too serious for them to make any difference. She was deathly pale and the blood she was coughing up wasnt from a cut lip. The force of whatever hit us had thrown her down the corridor and impaled her a foot or more down onto an exposed length of metal from the collapsed ceiling. Her blood dripped thickly from the top that protruded from the middle of her torso. By the look of it, coupled with the sound of her breathing. It was very likely that it severed her spine before it punctured her lung on it's way out.
Coughing again, she grabbed my collar and pulled me closer to stare into my eyes with a surprising vigor. "Well you still look like a scrawny teen green out of the academy. Now shut the *** up so I can give you orders." Her less savoury word choices were cut off by another cough that sprayed blood onto my neck. "On my authority as the Captain of this vessel and crew, I name you the Commanding Officer of this vessel and all aboard it. Now it's up to you to pull these little shits out of this mess because I sure as hell won't be in the shape to do it. When you pick someone to take your old place, make sure you get someone seasoned to fill in the gaps that fancy education of yours failed you on. They'll all be looking to you for whatever the hell comes next so whatever else you damned do, at least make it look like you have your shit together."
That last part was said with emphasis, and she was right. If I was going to get the crew through whatever came next, I would have to make it look like I had my shit together in front of the crew even when I didn't.
"And kid, one more thing." I nodded at her request, trying to keep a straight face and hide the overwhelming amount of panic that was welling up from somewhere deep down in my gut.
"Pull me off of here before someone comes, I could say some crap like 'you're doing the hard things so they don't have to' but that would be crap, and I dont have the time for that shit. I don't want any of those limp rag butt wipes to see me go out like this. They deserve better than that.
She began coughing up another lungful of blood. When she was done she opened her mouth again as her eyelids were beginning to droop. "I thought of one last, last thing. My desk, locked drawer, behind the stack of papers, 7713. I feel like you'll need it."
I chuckled at that, stealing a glance down the corridor for anyone coming. "You crazy b..."
She was already gone when I turned back.
— — —
Even now I couldn't tell you how much time passed by the time I heard people running down the hall behind me. I stared at my Captain, my back still to the oncoming gaggle of crew. Somewhere in the back of my head, I remarked that it was disturbing how she was still warm, even though her body was completely limp as I dragged her off the pole inch by inch and laid her on the floor. I took off my uniform jacket and laid it over her chest in hopes to cover up the wound and the blood, and closed her eyes before they arrived. It should have been for the crew, but having her dead, half-lidded eyes staring at me as I worked to extract her will probably keep haunting me till the day I die.
They did do me one favour though. Thinking of her penultimate words to me, that's the correct term right? I took a quick breath in, and steeled my features before I stood up. The sharp retort of my damned knees from kneeling on the hard deck almost broke the facade as I did everything I could not to rub them.
With one last deep breath, I turned to address the small crowd I could feel waiting quietly behind me. "Give me a sit-rep. What hit us?" Strong and to the point, that was good. Looking out at the group, their dilated pupils screamed warnings of the imminent crash they were all going to enjoy once the adrenalin wore off. I had to make sure to push them through that I thought, And lead too now I guess. But the whole crew would need a long rest as soon as they could get somewhere safe.
The man who stepped forward gave me a quick salute. Radek, the Second Engineer. "Captain," he said, somehow less phased than anyone else there by the dead captain laying behind me. "No data yet on what hit us, it appears that communications was the first thing to go when we got hit. Both the first and second arrays overloaded and blew from the power surge. And in regards to that power surge, whatever the hell hit us was either a form of energy weapon I have never seen or had so much momentum and force that it blew half the systems on the ship, likely more. We still aren't sure what it was."
"Best guess?"
"Best guess is whatever caused some kind of chain reaction. Could be physical, could be electrical, we really won't have a damn clue till we get the diagnostics back online. One thing I would wager money on is that our shields are gone for a good while. My guys should have the communications and sensor gear, as well as internal sensors, back on-line shortly. After that we'll triage the damage based on the situation presented to us." He said his guys, which caught me by surprise. His look had a glint of understanding that sparked a question.
"Perkins?"
"Elbow deep in a maintenance panel on one of the forward shield arrays when I last saw him. The entire section is basically rubble now." So that was the look. The man understood intimately what must be trying to wedge its way out of the back of my mind even as we spoke.
Radek Zelenka was the Second Engineer aboard the ship, now the Lead Engineer it would seem. A Russian immigrant from the red zone, he had a reputation for keeping anything with an engine running far past its expiration date. It made him invaluable in a long-range scout frigate like this. Not only were we regularly away from dock for a long while, but most of these old boats were some of the oldest cast-offs in the fleet, this very one not excluded.
Minutes later, as the rest of the group left with their orders and the captain's still-warm body on a stretcher, Zelenka turned to me. "He'd just sent me back down to engineering, Perkins I mean. Another minute and I'd have been there with him."
"I'm glad to still have you serving with me." I said to him, clasping forearms with the man as the two of us shared a knowing look that surprisingly put me at ease. Or at least less panicked than I currently was. Zelenka turned his back and made his way to follow his own set of orders. I felt like he and I would be sharing a drink with the man in the coming days.
Then I spotted one of the backs hurrying away from me at a power-walk. I shouted after it. "Beasley!"
A small woman trailing at the end of the pack halted and turned around as the rest carried on their duties. "Yes Emmett?" she asked. Susan Beasley had that look in her eyes as she nearly always did when looking at me. She knew me too well. We had both met in the Fleet Officer Training Academy, myself on the command track and her on the support and logistics track. While she was working as the Second Quartermaster aboard the ship, her primary job was as the Crew Morale Officer. A job surprisingly to some even more important on little tug boats like theirs than on the bigger warships. Being away from dry land for even years at a time could wear on anyone. But she knew me even without that. Our bunks shared a wall in the Academy dorm room from day one. At this point she was likely my closest friend on the ship, if not period.
"You can't call me that in front of the others anymore. I am the captain now. I'm going to need to meet with you and Gunny in the boardroom as soon as possible." I paused as a thought came to me. "Is he still..."
"Alive?" Susan asked, saving me from asking the question a second time in nearly as many minutes. "Yeah, at the worst he has a bruised ass and ego. The hit rolled him out of his nap apparently." Luckily she didn't even skip a beat at the Captain comment. Frankly I worried it would be too tempting a point for her to tease me on.
"Good, I need you to get him up and moving. Get a read on the status down there then contact me with the earliest time you can meet me. And make sure that is top priority. If he is dragging his feet, you have my authority to take temporary command. Do what you can to make sure that isn't necessary. I am going to need you for your real job in helping me keep this crew together."
"Yes sir." she said, giving me as firm a solute as her words before turning on her heel and briskly walking down the corridor.
Walking back into the bridge I called for a status update. "Sit-rep! What's the damage?"
A tall wiry blonde man stood up from behind a console, one of the few still operating. He had wire-rimmed glasses and sunken cheeks that perfectly fit his look of a perched owl. Maybe a starved owl. To further the image, he seemed to have his head tilted as he looked at me, like a bird trying to decide if I was prey or not. "We currently have the majority of critical systems on-line Lieutenant." Adjust Leary was the third in line for command on the deck in case of an emergency. At least out of those present. There was Gunny, he'd have seniority but as usual he wasn't there. And knowing him, likely as Gunny intended. As the ship's communications officer, Leary was also more linked in to what was happening on the ship second-by-second than anyone else on board. I'd likely have to keep an eye on him, the man was a natural rank climber and a fly-on-the-wall of far too many important conversations. Based on his Lieutenant comment, I'd bet a month's pay that the Captain's death might be just the encouragement he needed to try and take command for himself.
"What are we missing?"
"Engines and weapons are still offline along with all of our defensive capabilities. We have life support and emergency power already up and running. Reports from engineering say that the engines are almost ready as well but even if we do manage to get the engines on-line, we will go from being dead in the water, to a moving ship that's dead in the water."
"You have me over-encumbered with enthusiasm, Adjunct," I said in retort. Likely less professional than I should have been. "And it is Captain now of which I'd wager you are quite aware." The man narrowed his eyes at my response. The two of us had never been the best of friends. Not my best decision in the current circumstance.
"In addition, Captain," he said, laying sarcasm heavily on the last word, "you have a priority message request from fleet command."
"And you didn't lead with that when I first walked in?!" I nearly shouted back at him, shocked.
"I reported what you asked for sir," he quipped, feigning meek ignorance.
"What you asked for - Captain." I returned, putting in a level of command to match the gaunt owl's sarcasm. Yes he may have rubbed me the wrong way, but damn it a Captain needed to be able to have a firm hand at times. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. "Keep that in mind. Put the call through, front screen."
The large screen that took up most of the forward bulkhead was surprisingly intact, other than a thin spider-webbing crack in the top right of the frame. Stepping up to the Captain's podium, an older man's face appeared on the screen staring down at me with an eyebrow and ear distorted by the damaged panel. I made a note of that in the back of my head, luckily the fleet wasn't dumb enough to use one big panel for these screens, they were made up of multiple smaller pannels that could be swapped out if only some of them broke.
"Vega, report!"
— the chapter continues in Grasshopper, part 2 —
// originally uploaded Feb. 11, 2022