“Turn!”
In front of them, chaos reigned. Ships were off course, scrambling about, and dissident chatter sounded loud and strident in her earphones. It was hard to tell which way to steer to avoid hitting another shop or asteroid. Beneath them, an asteroid rose up growing larger and larger in the aft monitor. In back of them, The Explorer exploded out of jump, hot and heavy, unaware of the situation.
Tango had his head down, inches from the screen, fingers white from his grip on the controls.
She keyed her rear monitor to see The Explorer screaming up their backside, no brakes available.
“Stay your course!” Charles Dance’s voice boomed over the bridge’s comm as his ship swelled on screen and thundered overhead with no room to spare.
Her ship shuddered. Equipment rattled. Loose objects danced.
Elise shifted her gaze to the forward screen as she watched The Explorer veer right, head upward and out, quickly becoming a small dot.
Tango banged on his left jet controller to swerve right and avoid the rising asteroid. The immense boulder lumbered by their port screen like a voyeur attempting a quick peek inside before it, too, fled.
Those on the bridge froze in fright until Elise shouted, “More ships coming through. Heads up! Get us clear, Tango. Now!”
A burst of light flooded the bridge as behind them, an ill-fated ship hit an asteroid, exploded, and showered a wide swath of bodies and ship parts. Tango frantically corrected to avoid hitting loose bits and wayward chunks of either destroyed ships or smashed asteroids.
A following vessel shot out of the wormhole, unexpectedly confronted with ricocheting asteroids and ping-ponging wreckage. The ship frantically swerved, barely missing larger sections of spinning material, but suffered damage from smaller fragments. Immediately after, the next ship emerged and exploded, adding to an expanding and deadly debris field.
All around them the nightmare grew, as shards of rock and metal tapped their hull, and errant ships swerved into their path. Tango increased their fusion power, adding thrust, as the ship veered past another asteroid and threaded a path toward clearer space.
***
Most people on board had no idea of the chaos transpiring outside.
In Jennie’s room, Jacob felt the ship shudder right, causing him to roll hard against her.
“Grandma’s jumpers, Jacob!” she screeched. “Bad enough the ship throwing me around without you banging into me too. Give me air.” She pushed at him roughly, and he swung back the other way.
Then the world pushed down on him and sideways, pitching him back toward her again. “Eeyai!” Jacob’s loosely tied straps bite into his arms and left red welts.
Grabbing at a strap, he exclaimed, “Yikes! What are they doing? Feels like we’re on a rollercoaster.”
“You need to listen to me better. I told you to tie those straps tighter. Look at the welts on your arms.”
He rolled up into a fetal curl, eyes shut tight. “I don’t feel so good.” He was certain they would all die at any moment. He gagged in fear.
“Don’t you dare throw up on me, Jacob Monroe.” She jerked violently away.
“She’s not going to crash us into an asteroid or another ship, is she?”
“Have I mentioned…”
“What? Everything’s fine ‘cause the captain’s a female?”
“You do listen, occasionally, it seems.”
Thankfully, the scary movements stopped.
The two eyed each other, straining to hear any further announcements from their Captain.
***
“Maintain adjusted course,” Elise commanded. Asteroids came into view, passing too close to contemplate.
Jensen raised a hand and announced, “Incoming course information.”
All bridge screens displayed a star map with pinpricks of lights, each glow a ship. At every dot; vectors, speed, and ascent data indicated that vessel’s assigned course.
“He’s bringing the fleet together,” Tango noted.
She startled as bridge comms crackled with Tate’s familiar voice. “You should have received adjusted course information for your ship. Respond if you haven’t. We’ve lost several ships through jump and need to inventory. Send any information that would help assess the damage to my staff. Keep to your current course assignment until further notice. Avoid the debris field and wormhole at all costs. Keep this line open for further communications. Tate out.”
Keying her mic, she informed her own ship, “Attention ship personnel. Attention. The ship is now clear of jump. You are free to move around under caution. We have fleet casualties and are currently at orange alert. As soon as more information is available, I will pass it on. Meanwhile, report injuries to the Medlab, emergencies to Admin, and malfunctions to engineering. Captain Fujeint, out.”
Jazz’s board lit up. Every sector of the ship wanted to know what had happened. Jazz circled around, threw up her hands, added an eye roll. “Who should I answer first?”
Elise clicked on her mic. “All personnel please refrain from tying up ship’s critical communications. I will relay pertinent information as soon as I receive it. We are at orange alert. Be patient. Captain Fujeint out.”
She raised an eyebrow to Jazz who turned back to check her board. “Better,” the girl acknowledged and began to handle those calls still lit.
***
After listening hard for current news, Jacob finally heard, “Attention ship personnel. Attention. The ship is now clear of jump…”
“Thank the stars,” Jacob breathed.
“Shush. Listen.”
“… You are free to move around under caution.”
His fingers quickly unbuckled the abrading straps.
She put out a hand to stop him. “Listen a moment.”
“We have fleet casualties and are currently at orange alert.”
“Orange alert!” He gulped. “What’s going on?”
“Well, if you’d listen…”
“... As soon as more information is available, I will pass it on. Meanwhile, report all injuries to the Medlab, emergencies to Admin, and malfunctions to engineering. Captain Fujeint out.”
Jennie undid her straps, sitting up abruptly. “She said fleet casualties!” Large, wide eyes turned toward Jacob. “Cripes! Who?”
Chapter 23
Postmortem
As the fleet carefully regrouped, Commander Reardon’s hoarse voice boomed shakily out of the bridge’s speaker. “Attention all ships. Please report damage. Maintain designated courses until further notice. Emergency shuttles and crews assemble in my flag ship. Reardon out.”
In due course, they found two ships obliterated and three damaged beyond repair, leaving only thirty-five intact. Once the wormhole collapsed, shuttles picked through the debris, trying to salvage what they could. Only a few survivors were found.
At the memorial service, two shifts later, Elise looked out at the shuttle bay from her perch overhead. She noticed a diminished number of bodies present compared to the last time she’d addressed her ship. Then she’d been fresh out of cryo. So much had happened since.
In the somber crowd, no baby cried nor child whined. Absolute silence prevailed. This time, no weapons fired and no violence erupted. Only a heart-weary stillness, punctuated by sniffling or an occasional cough. Low background music accompanied a list of the deceased read by Tate in a solemn voice as he slowly articulated each name, missing or dead. Commander Reardon offered an eulogy and final words. After he signed off, Elise followed up with a few comments; but nothing she could say would bring back those now gone. At the close, the assembly shuffled away, sad and voiceless.
A small cluster of asteroids still floated nearby, permitting a water and metal reclamation operation. Rapidly dwindling raw materials had left their supply holds near empty. Storage Locker worked around the clock printing parts for damaged ships and sucked up a large portion of their resources. Dr. Luttrell insisted on replenishing materials necessary to restock his
serum, but the plague had run its course. Plague was no longer the problem. Other priorities occupied their attention.
***
Elise slumped in the captain’s chair. Her mood ran foul. She needed more people to operate the ship properly. They were spread too thin, and no one claimed pregnancy. That concerned her, but there was still time before it became more than just a worry.
The memorial service brought home how vulnerable they were in the vast expanse of space. The plague had decimated their ranks, and then the disaster at the wormhole had destroyed five ships. That loss meant fewer hands and minds to successfully colonize an alien planet if they ever made it to one.
Within her ship, food lay unharvested, corridors grew cluttered and dirty, medical assistance proved limited, and they only had two healthy chickens left. The jump had taken a bite out of their journey, but too much dangerous space still separated them from any likely home. Any habitual world lay too far away, although when she gazed out the viewport, space swarmed with stars hiding a multitude of possible planets.
The lack of personnel made Trajan’s constant presence excessive. She’d assigned him to other duties, not to his liking—or so she’d heard. Done out of necessity, she regretted her decision, but could see no other alternatives. She missed his all-seeing silences and his large tea-colored hands that so often reached out to steady her when she most desperately needed it. Most of all, she missed him as a sounding board.
And she’d not heard from John Luttrell for nine shifts, two hours, and fifteen minutes…not that she was counting. Something or someone else dominated his time. And she refused to call and ask who or whine at him about neglect.
A gloomy atmosphere pervaded the bridge. Jazz swung around. “Captain, how do you do it?”
Startled out of her moody thoughts, she asked, “Do what?”
“Act so calm. Keep going. It’s so hard.” The young girl rubbed at her console. “I’m terrified of jump, but I know if we are to get anywhere, we’ll have to jump again.” Jazz wrung her hands and shot her a wide-eyed look, her face contorted by fear.
Elise understood the terror in her comm officer’s heart. Despite her own outward appearance, she was anything but calm. However, she was the Captain and required to remain steadfast for her ship’s sake. Her crew needed to believe in her strength, so she had to provide it, regardless of how she felt behind the false façade.
“Listen up, everyone.” She removed her headphones and took a deep breath.
Tango and Jensen swiveled around to listen.
She smiled a tentative smile. “We can be afraid; we can’t help but be afraid. Any sane person should be terrified, but we can’t let it paralyze us. If we stop and stare forever into the abyss of fear, we won’t be able to move forward. In order to survive, all of us have to continue on. In the future, there will be more jumps, there will be more illness, and the stars know what else, but we can’t let our emotions stop us, or we’re all dead. We need to meet all problems head on, solve them, and move on together. So... Are you with me?”
She saw their backs straighten and their faces clear of fear to be replaced with resolve. She actually felt better herself. Nods circled her bridge, and smiles emerged.
Strengthening her voice, she added, “Then, let’s carry on and make worthwhile the sacrifices of those we’ve lost.” She jammed her headset back on. She was out of breath. Maybe she’d even convinced herself of what she’d said.
“Captain,” Jazz spoke through her comm, a strange tone to her voice. “Carter Wright is on your line.”
Her eyebrows lifted in question. “Carter?”
“Carter Wright, your friend from engineering.” Jazz jiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
The mood lightened, and the bridge exchanged glances.
“Really?” Elise straightened up, excitement trilling through her. “Send him through.” She was ready to talk to someone interesting, ready to hear a new voice, ready to be distracted from death, destruction, and terror.
“Captain?” The hesitant voice asked.
“Yes, this is Captain Fujeint. How are you, Carter? It’s good to hear from you.” She put as much warmth into her voice as she could.
“Captain, I want to ask you to lunch next shift. I have something I would like to show you.”
Briefly, an inappropriate image flashed through her thoughts, but she managed to squelch it and maintain a professional tone. “I can certainly arrange a lunch. Would twelve noon next shift suit you? My quarters?”
“Twelve noon would be perfect. Would you like me to come to the bridge to escort you?”
“That would be appreciated.”
“See you then.” Her comm cut out. Looking up at the curious eyes of her crew, she answered, “I have a da… appointment next shift at twelve.” Suddenly her dismal mood lifted a bit more.
Determined to keep morale up a little better in the future, she smiled, adding, “It’s really ship’s business.”
No one, but no one, on the bridge bought it.
***
As before, Carter seated her properly at a small table in the privacy of her captain’s quarters. Spread out before them lay a tasty lunch of sliced apples, cheese, crackers, and vat protein slices. A special Medlab vintage filled the plastic wine glasses. She took a sip and eyed him.
“You sure have pretty violet eyes, Captain Fujeint,” Carter blurted out, then gazed downward, a blush on his cheeks. He grabbed for his wineglass.
She considered the comment a bit of a mixed message: formal address with an intimate compliment.
“Thank you, Carter. Inside my quarters, you may call me Elise.” She admired his chiseled features and dark curly hair as she placed fingers around her drink. Taking another sip, she decided to let him start the conversation, determined not to bring up the topic of jump or power systems in any way.
A quiet settled between them. He busied himself with a slice of cheese and a cracker. Obviously, something was on his mind, and he was working up courage to talk to her about it.
“I’m not good with small talk,” he mumbled.
“Then, we’ll skip it, and you just tell me what you want to say.”
He pushed at an apple slice with a finger. “The ships have problems. The gardens are not well tended; the corridors are unkempt…”
She hoped this wasn’t going to be an accusation of poor management. The current situation depressed her, but what he described was administration’s area, not hers. Still, anything on her ship concerned her, even when she didn’t know how to fix it or didn’t have the jurisdiction to remedy it.
“… so I have some solutions.”
That was a turn in the conversation she had not expected. She blinked. “I’m willing to listen to ideas that might solve any problems concerning my ship.”
He took a breath and pulled out a tablet. Swiveling the device, he scrolled through several images as he showed her diagrams and illustrations. “Robots,” he said. He put up a hand to stop her from responding. “Put me on the Storage Locker with the 3D printers there, and I’ll manufacture robots that will clean up your corridors.”
She leaned forward, interested. But, the hand stayed up.
“Give me a little help, and I’ll make a harvester that will take out garden spoilage and a seeder that will increase food productivity.” The hand relaxed, reached for wine.
She laughed, intrigued. “There are still more problems, but that’s a good start. How do you know how to build robots?”
“I studied space power systems at Yale. But, I minored in robotics. I loved it. However, I had to choose one or the other. My uncle pushed me into space power systems. Even then, he knew we would eventually send out men to populate the stars. Humanity was vulnerable sitting in one basket called Earth. He wanted to go, but I was his alternate choice to fulfill his dream. He helped fund my education.”
“If you do what you say you can, the other ships will want your robots. They have the same problems.”
“If th
ey give me people, I’ll teach them how to build what they need.”
She munched an apple slice, picked up a cracker.
Pausing, he let her think about his idea. He nibbled on a cracker, eyeing her intently.
A quiet moment passed while she tabbed through a multitude of intricate diagrams and illustrations. She didn’t understand a single one, but she made affirming noises as if she totally understood what they meant. Then she lifted her eyes to him. “It will tie up the few printers we have and take forever.”
Undismayed, he answered, “We can find people to build more. Jimbo hoards a few talented workers in engineering who could do it. Other ships also have capable people. Also, we can create robots to build more robots.”
She mulled that over and nodded. “I’ll support you all I can. I also think Commander Reardon needs to hear this.”
“Jimbo won’t be happy if I go above his head. He doesn’t want me to leave his domain of engineering. He has his own fiefdom and doesn’t want his world to change. I respect Jimbo and like working for him, but this is crucial for our survival. He needs to put aside his territorial obsession. Right now, all engineering has to keep them busy is maintenance. A lot of good talent is going to waste over there.”
Finishing her wine, she agreed with the assessment but refused to outwardly criticize her head engineer. “Let me handle Jimbo, and I’ll also talk to the Commander. Make me a list of the team you’ll need to get this started. Include other ships’ personnel.”
He rubbed the table, suddenly shy. “Captain, I had hoped to stay here and be near you.” He lowered his voice, leaning in a bit. “Maybe develop a friendship or something even better.” He exhaled. “This will take me away, and I’ll be sorry for that.”
The sentiment touched her. She stood, coming around to him as he rose to meet her. Up closer, she kissed his cheek. “We can still be friends… and maybe more. It’s not bad to have someone special on another ship away from prying eyes and a nosy bridge. Besides, it will be necessary for me to visit often to check on your progress.” She kissed his elegant nose.
He laughed and ended all talk with a surprisingly passionate kiss on the lips that made her toes tingle. It had been too long since that had happened.
A World Too Far (Terran Trilogy Book 1) Page 12