The Chance Encounter: The Linda Eccles Series - Book One

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The Chance Encounter: The Linda Eccles Series - Book One Page 20

by Robert Woodard


  Looking down at her feet, she sensed the propulsion units had gone offline since no vibration was being felt. She looked out the forward view ports to see if the ship still traveled in a straight line. Seeing the Privateer maintaining a steady course, she felt a sense of relief. The weapon had exploded dead astern, and she suspected the propulsion units must have stayed online long enough to keep the ship aimed straight. Her ship now flew through space on momentum, and there was nothing she could do about it until she regained power.

  Damn, where is that worthless Sharon? Surely, she had time to get back to the bridge by now. Linda hoped that Sharon opted to make a tour of the ship for a damage assessment before reporting to her. She could forgive her tardiness for that, but if Sharon came to the bridge without having done anything, Linda was going to strangle her for wasting valuable time.

  The crew stared up at her, apparently looking for direction, but Linda had none to offer. She remained blind and out of communication with the rest of the ship. If more of those missiles were on their way toward her now, she was powerless to do anything about it. It was not a good position to be in, and Linda hated being blind to what was happening around her.

  Keep calm, Linda. You need to think your way through this. The thought did little to calm her fears, but it reminded her to think. Linda knew she had a good crew, and they would do whatever was necessary to get the ship back up and running again.

  “Where is that damn Sharon?” Linda said through clenched teeth, unable to keep her frustration in check.

  The lights coming back on gave Linda some hope. She suspected the power relay switches must have tripped, and they had automatically reset, or someone had manually reset them. Perhaps that was Sharon’s doing. Could it be a positive sign? Linda didn’t know. Whatever the reason, the bridge appeared to be coming back to life. The overhead monitors glowed white, but no information appeared on them yet.

  Come on computers, I need information!

  Sweeping her eyes across the stations below her, she could see every system resetting. Most importantly, the damage control board came back to life, and with it, the status of the ship. The entire outline of the ship glowed red, as the multitude of tiny LED semiconductors indicated each emitter was failing to project out their shielding. The symbol for the shield generator burned bright red, too, reflecting the real problem. Without the shield generator working, the emitters had nothing to project. Worse yet, both propulsion units glowed annoyingly red.

  The board also displayed a blinking red light. It sat in the middle of the symbol for the cooling pump that fed liquid through the propulsion units to keep them from overheating. Linda knew it represented a major failure, but it still functioned in limited capacity. Could a pipe have ruptured? She hoped not, as that would allow much-needed coolant to spill out onto the deck.

  Looking up, she could see the monitors still refused to display any data, and that meant the main controller had to be inoperable. That controller fed shipboard computer data throughout the various monitoring systems, and Linda knew that the backup controller residing in emergency control should have taken over, but it had not. Perhaps when Sharon returned to the bridge she would send her there first. Where is that skinny bitch?

  “Captain, the communication station won’t reset.”

  “Neither will navigation.”

  “The same with tactical, Captain. I think the sensor isn’t functioning.”

  The reports coming to her from the various specialists carried nothing but more bad news. Glancing at the damage control board again, she could see the sensor array remained green. So, it had to be related to the controller.

  “Pull the panels and see what you can do to get them up and running again,” Linda ordered. It was unnecessary, but it would give them something to do other than sit there and stare at her.

  ◆◆◆

  Bill worked his way through the vertical passageway when the lights reactivated. Finally reaching the bridge deck, he stepped out of the tube and paused to catch his breath. The long climb up the ladder had taken its toll on him since the turbo-lifts were out.

  “Man am I out of shape,” Bill said aloud while breathing rapidly to take in air.

  Finally getting his second wind, Bill made his way forward to reach the bridge opening. With the power now restored, he didn’t have to open the hatch manually. He felt thankful as his arms were tired enough as it was.

  Linda turned at the sound of the hatch sliding open. Her eyebrows raised, and she said, “Bill! Thank God. Have you seen Sharon anywhere?”

  Bill noticed that Linda had the bottom of her shirt pulled up to her chin. He could see her pale white skin wrinkling up around her stomach. The section of the shirt pressed against her face was soaked through with blood.

  “Are you okay, Captain?”

  “I’m fine! Have you seen Sharon?” Linda asked with annoyance in her tone.

  “No, Captain, but I came straight here from weapons control. The compartment flooded with plasma. I hit the emergency vent when I left, but the weapon is lost to us.”

  “Is everyone okay?” Linda asked.

  “Yes. We all got out in time.”

  “Thank God,” Linda said with relief showing on her face. Her expression turned hard again, and she ordered, “I need you to get down to emergency control and see what is happening there. I think the controller is out, and I need the backup controller online, now!”

  “I’m on it,” Bill said as he turned to leave.

  “Wait!” Linda shouted at him.

  Bill turned back around in time to see Linda flip up the top of the left armrest to reveal a small storage area. She had to let go of her shirt to use both hands, and it fell away to reveal a nasty cut. Whatever she hit split her chin wide open. Bill suspected she would need stitches as blood began to drip off her face again. She pulled two small devices out of the storage space.

  “Until communication is restored, we will use these,” Linda said, tossing him a hand-held communicator. Bill caught the plastic device in his left head and gave it a quick inspection. Linda yelled, “Go!”

  After waving the device at her in understanding, Bill slipped it into his shirt pocket and headed off the bridge. Thankful that the turbo-lift operated now, he made it to emergency control quickly. He found Rebecca on her knees with her head stuck into the opening of the console. Both large front panels were removed to expose the ugly components within.

  “What are you hunting for, Lieutenant?” Bill asked.

  Rebecca tried to pull back out from under the console but ended up banging her head instead. After saying ouch, she stooped lower and gingerly worked her head free. While rubbing the top of her head, she cleared the console and stood. Her collar-length hair had managed to weave itself into a tangled mess. Her bangs dangled over her right eye. Jutting out her lower lip, Rebecca blew the hair away from her face. Those incredible blue eyes gave him a look of relief at his presence. If it hadn’t been for the seriousness of the situation, Bill could have laughed at the sight.

  “The Captain sent me down here to get the secondary controller online,” Bill said.

  “That’s what I’m trying to do,” Rebecca said, impatiently. “When I noticed the main systems failed to come online, I tried to switch over to the secondary controller, but the console won’t take any commands.”

  Looking at the top of the console, Bill noticed the rectangular outline waiting for her ePersonal to free the controls. He said, “You still have the console locked.”

  The deep frown of frustration released from Rebecca’s face only to be replaced by a pouting of her lips and a sagging of her upper body. He took that as an admission to making a rookie mistake. Having made the same mistake himself once, Bill smiled.

  “Forget it, Lieutenant. It’s a simple mistake that I suspect you won’t be repeating anytime soon.”

  Stepping around Rebecca, Bill set his ePersonal into the outline. Before he let it go, the console unlocked. Selecting emergency procedures,
he then hit secondary controller. The monitors came to life in front of him. Bill quickly studied tactical to make sure nothing was tracking in on them. He could see that one ship continued to follow, but the other one had veered off, and he suspected they intended to sweep around the planet.

  Seeing that emergency control had full operation, Bill pulled the communicator from his shirt pocket and pressed the transmit button. “Captain, I’m in emergency control. We have the controller online now. Are you receiving a feed?”

  “It looks like everything is coming back up, but navigation. The console is completely dead. I have the folks here looking at it. Have you received word on what is going on in engineering?”

  “No. I’ll head there next,” Bill responded, “We have navigational control here, so we can take over once the units are online again.”

  “Very well,” Linda replied. “Now get those propulsion units online, and if you run into Sharon, tell her to report to the bridge immediately”

  “Right away, Captain.”

  Dropping the communicator back into his shirt pocket, Bill watched Rebecca swap his ePersonal with hers. Once the console adjusted security clearance and gave her control of the console, she handed his device over to him. Satisfied all was in order, Bill stepped back into the passageway to make his way aft to the engineering compartment. Normally, the sound and heavier vibrations of the propulsion units would have guided him right into the compartment, but now the passageway remained oddly still. If this was a horror flick, he would have expected some hideous monster to come popping out at any moment.

  Stepping into engineering, Bill spotted Andrea at the back wall facing away from him. She worked feverously over the controls at the console located in front of her. Stepping further into the compartment, he could see others frantically working on the machinery. The twenty-foot long propulsion units dominated each side of the room, with the center open for passage. Overhead, large, suspended, pipes ran along the ceiling to and from each unit. Black arrows had been stenciled onto the white piping, indicating the direction of flow for each pipe in the maze that seemed to run in all directions.

  “Come on, get those damn switches disconnected. I can’t restart the units until they’re bypassed!” Andrea yelled out without looking up from the console.

  “Number one is almost ready!” someone yelled back.

  “Number two is getting close, too,” another voice rang out.

  Continuing forward, Bill reached the far side of the compartment. For a few minutes, he observed Andrea’s fingers working crazily over the console. Text boxes and windows flew open and closed with surprising speed. Whatever she was doing with the controls, it was apparent she was good at it.

  “What’s the word, Lieutenant?” Bill asked.

  Andrea kept on working the console controls. Without bothering to turn around, she answered, “That damn explosion blew right up both exhaust ports and stalled the units. Neither one will restart because the coolant flow is too low, but I’ll be damned if I can figure out why. We are overriding the emergency cutoff switches now to let me manually restart them. In a couple minutes I’ll have the computer control module bypassed.”

  “Will you be able to get them started again at that point?” Bill asked, looking for clarification on timing.

  “Yep, but I have no idea for how long. The coolant flow is down eighty percent, and as soon as the units go online, they’re going to heat up rapidly. You will want to let the Captain know that anything above an idle is going to cook the units in no time.”

  “How long before you can fix the coolant problem?”

  Andrea swung around to face him. Bill could see the stress on her face. “I have no idea what’s wrong with the coolant. How in the world would I know how long it will take to fix it?”

  “Relax, Lieutenant,” Bill said in a calming voice. “Do what you can and let me know the moment you have an estimate. I will be in emergency control.”

  “Number one is ready!”

  “So is number two!”

  Andrea’s eyes focused beyond Bill as she looked at those working on the propulsion units. When her eyes returned to Bill’s, she narrowed them slightly in what he took as an unconscious hint of annoyance at his presence. Spinning back around, she began tapping away.

  Bill backed away to give Andrea her space. As she worked, he decided that having a heart to heart with her later would be warranted. She needed to learn that in emergency situations, the senior officers needed to be kept apprised of the ship’s status, along with any damage and expected repair time. He would not do it here though. She needed to keep her focus on getting the units working so the ship could maneuver.

  After another minute, Andrea’s hand movements slowed. She then yelled out, “Clear on one!”

  “One clear!”

  Andrea pressed on another option. The sound of a whine, like a huge ventilation fan kicking on, filled the compartment. Bill turned to see the propulsion unit on his left shake against its shock-absorbing mounts. When it seemed to reach idle, the unit settled into a steady rhythm.

  A warning tone sounded, timed with multiple warning lights turning red on the status board. Bill was too far away to read what was causing the problem, but he suspected it was a low coolant warning because none of the others seemed to pay it any attention.

  “Clear on two!” Andrea yelled.

  The second unit shook as it came to life, but its whine was drowned out by the noise of the other unit. In a surprisingly short amount of time, it too settled into a steady rhythm.

  “For as long as they last,” Andrea said, and Bill suspected she meant until they overheated and shut down again.

  “Good job, Lieutenant,” Bill said. He then gave her a stern look, and added, “Now, get that coolant system working one-hundred percent.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The Slayer lost contact with the Claw Plunge and the prey ship as it swung around the planet. Jeftrick was running blind as to what was happening between the other two ships. He had the Slayer running for all it was worth to get around the planet and ahead of his prey. In the meantime, the reloading of the forward launch tubes was proving painfully slow. He suspected that was true on the Claw Plunge, also. Whoever had designed the ship had not anticipated the need to quickly reload the tubes once all eight rockets were fired. Thinking it over, Jeftrick decided that some Masterlord at one time or another had determined nothing could survive being hit by eight rockets, so they failed to see the need for a rapid reload.

  That line of thinking was biting him in the tail now. While the Slayer had another full load of rockets on board, they were inconveniently stored away in another chamber. All he could do was wait for the underlings to muscle the rockets into the launch chamber, so they could be loaded. Jeftrick hoped that all the tubes could be reloaded by the time the Slayer made its way around to face the Prey Ship.

  On board the Claw Plunge the story would be the same. They would be struggling to get a rocket into a tube to get another shot off. Jeftrick wanted at least one more rocket hit on that ship to prevent them from making quick repairs. A rocket plowing into the rear end of that ship should do the job nicely, he suspected.

  Beat by beat, the thrill of having his prey at his mercy grew within him. Jeftrick could see it all in his mind. He would bring the Slayer right alongside the prey ship, where he would use his energy weapon to melt that troublesome bubble-shaped weapon into molten metal. Once the stinger was removed, his prey would be helpless to avoid being towed back to Kracks like a prized kill.

  “Overlord, the first rocket has made it into the launch chamber.”

  Hearing the update from his Underlord, Jeftrick’s tongue slipped out to swipe his nostrils. Everything would fall into place once he cleared this planet, and that would not take long. Since the Slayer had a rocket ready to load, he suspected the Claw Plunge would, too. Once that happened, it would be all over for his fleeing prey. Opening his jaw slightly, Jeftrick slammed it shut in foreseen trium
ph.

  ◆◆◆

  Linda began to feel in control of her ship again. Although navigation remained out on the bridge, she had eyes on the pursuers and propulsion back online. She could maneuver, albeit for only limited durations of time.

  When Bill informed her that one of the ships had broken off pursuit, Linda kept the Privateer out of an orbit with the planet. Fortunately, she only needed to make minor maneuvers for that to happen, which kept the heated units under control.

  Linda received some satisfaction in knowing that the alien commander who had gone around the planet was going to be disappointed to find out that Linda had not come around to greet them. Being slower than what you are pursuing is bad enough without the added embarrassment of making a bad choice and falling even further behind.

  Focusing on the ship that still trailed her, she knew they would eventually reload. She had no way of knowing the maximum range of their missiles, and as such, she had to assume the Privateer remained within range, but could she really do much about it? Actually, she felt lucky they had not fired at her already. Either she had moved out of range, or they were damn slow at reloading. Linda hoped it was the former.

  Glad to have tactical back, she studied the screen. Ideally, she would love to double-back on her pursuer, but she had no intention of pressing her luck against the missiles they fired. Without her weapon, and having limited use of propulsion, Linda felt like a lame duck.

  No, she decided that her best approach would be to keep moving away from her jump point, while hoping an opportunity presented itself. She frowned slightly as she studied tactical. The first ship they encountered was slowing working into a position that would place it between her and the jump point. It added another dimension to her troubles.

  “Captain, the alien ship has fired again. I am picking up a single weapon tracking along our course. I show time to impact is eight minutes.”

  Already looking at tactical, she saw the track line when it appeared. With the pursuing ship so far behind her, it provided a nice cushion to react to the incoming danger, but what should that reaction be? Linda wished she had military training. They probably practiced for these types of scenarios. Here she was having to constantly come up with her own solutions. She was tired of always having to guess and second guess what to do next. I’m a civilian captain, for crying out loud.

 

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