“Commander.” It was Kowalski. “If you can buy us some time, we’ve almost got this starboard engine back online. It’ll only make fifty percent, but it’ll make a big difference.”
“You’ll get it,” John answered. He thought for a moment. It was hard to think clearly. He was becoming light headed. “Mister Tan, open a channel to the cruiser.”
“Yes, sir.” Tan changed the frequency and switched the translator on. “Channel open, sir.”
John called the Andromedans. They answered. The translations were adequate.
“To whom am I speaking?” John asked politely.
“That is not important,” came the reply.
“Slow it down,” John whispered to Tan. The words were being translated a bit too quickly. A few seconds delay would be helpful.
“What do you want?”
This discussion was not going to be drawn out with trivialities. “I wish to discuss terms of surrender,” John stated.
“We will not accept your surrender.”
“I was meaning yours.”
The words were untranslatable before the communication cut off, but the answering fire was indication enough. Even though Giacomo reacted immediately, a direct hit somewhere around engineering was felt throughout the entire ship.
“Mister Kowalski?”
“That was just great, sir.” The sarcastic tone was noted. “We’ve lost life support. That’s a few more hours’ work.”
“Leave it. Get that engine running.”
“But, sir –”
“If we get clobbered again, it really won’t matter.” John switched Kowalski off. “How many torpedoes have we got?”
“None,” McReidy answered.
It was not the answer John wanted. Without life support, the ship had twelve to fifteen hours supply of oxygen.
The view on the main screen spun and the incoming phaser fire passed harmlessly out of view before Giacomo’s head rocked forward.
“Sir, I don’t feel well.”
John propelled himself at the helm. Giacomo had lost all colour. His eyes were glazed and blinking heavily. His breathing was shallow and rapid. The affects of being weightless were starting to tell on him.
John looked to the others. They were all starting to suffer varying degrees of fatigue.
There was no sense of internal direction or balance on the ship or in their bodies. Only the view on the screen not spinning gave them any sense of stability.
“Incoming,” McReidy warned.
John glanced to the screen and saw the torpedo. Still floating, he grabbed the console with one hand to brace against the equalising momentum, put his other hand over Giacomo’s and ripped the ship to one side. The torpedo skimmed the shields, the ship vibrating throughout.
Giacomo was rocking and beginning to lift from his seat as his strength failed.
“It’s all right,” John reassured him. “Take it easy. Don’t pass out on me.”
“My head –”
“I know. Can you get yourself back to my chair?”
“I’ll try.”
“Good man,” John smiled. “Find something to focus on and stay awake.”
Giacomo did as he was told.
John took his place at the helm. He winked at McReidy. “Think you can keep up with me?” he teased.
“Any time.” She dared him to try something she couldn’t match.
He grinned. “Hang on, Giacomo.”
It was a warning to all of them as he threw the ship around like a fighter. A lot of his moves were unorthodox, almost suicidal. He couldn’t match the cruiser’s firepower, but he could certainly outfly her. If she didn’t have a weakness, they were going to have to make one.
McReidy only fired when she had a reasonable chance of doing some damage. She couldn’t anticipate his moves like she could with Giacomo and a lot of early shots missed completely. The cruiser was having the same problem and couldn’t target Bismarck with any accuracy.
When the starboard engine kicked in, the immediate increase in power brought with it a breath of fresh air. John was enjoying himself; McReidy’s aim was improving. They found the cruiser’s weakness and homed in on it. Shields were almost back at full strength – not much else was working.
It was more sheer determination and relentless onslaught that finally made the cruiser turn and run. What should have been an easy victory for the three ships was being thwarted by an enemy that refused to admit defeat. Any number of hits should have destroyed Bismarck, but she kept coming back for more. Giving as good as she got until she found a way through the cruiser’s defences and started doing real damage.
When the cruiser ran, John tried to follow. He soon gave up. It would take both engines at full power to even match speed. With Gillespie’s confirmation that they were in clear space, with nothing in sensor range but the rapidly departing cruiser, he reduced speed.
His hands relaxed as he eased off on the controls. He sighed heavily and felt himself unwind, momentarily forgetting he was weightless until he began to rise from his seat. He quickly dragged himself back down.
Giacomo was groaning heavily. At least he was still conscious.
“Engineering, I’d like gravity and life support back on as soon as you can organise it.” All the anxiety was gone from John’s voice. They were safe from the Andromedans, but there was still a lot of work to be done before they were out of danger. “Steve, go down and help them… Can you drop Giacomo off in sick bay on your way?”
“No problem.” Gillespie propelled himself from his console to Giacomo.
“No, leave me alone. I don’t want to go,” Giacomo cried as Gillespie grabbed hold of him, and he clung tighter to the chair.
“Giacomo, go.”
Given as an order, the pilot would not disobey.
John looked across at McReidy. He hoped her head didn’t feel as bad as his. There was a persistent ringing in his ears that he hadn’t noticed before. He dreaded to think what state the rest of the crew were in.
Shipwide communications were out and Dunlop refused to answer his communicator. Gillespie was more forthcoming with news from sick bay.
“Doc’s not very happy with you at the moment. Casualties are pretty high.”
“What did he say?”
“Well,” Gillespie was a little reluctant. “That depends on whether insulting a superior officer is a court martial offence.”
“Noted, Mister Gillespie.” Avoiding the good doctor for a while might be a good idea. “Continue down to engineering… Mister Tan.”
“Sir?”
Tan looked dazed, he was trembling slightly.
“Stay on those sensors as long as you can. We don’t want anyone else sneaking up on us.”
Things were not going to get much better until gravity was restored. The internal functions of the human body could not operate properly for an extended period of weightlessness. Each individual was affected differently. Combined with injuries sustained and the combat conditions they had been subjected to, the affects were greatly accelerated.
Kowalski was relatively unaffected: it was a condition in which he thrived. He loved the freedom it allowed. It was almost a disappointment to him when gravity came back on. A loud thud announced the fact, as though everyone and everything hit the floor at the same time.
Tan was unaware of it, he still clung tightly to his seat. He was exhausted, but he stayed at his post.
It didn’t get past John. “Mister Tan, switch your console through the helm and get yourself checked out.”
Tan obeyed. When he rose to his feet, his legs were unable to take his weight and collapsed underneath him. He fell back into his seat.
A glance to McReidy, and John and figured their own systems probably weren’t in much better condition. As circulation returned to normal, the prickling sensation of pins and needles ran riot through their arms and legs.
Tan made a second attempt. This time he stood, a little uneasy, and made his way from the bridge.
>
John’s communicator activated. “Sir, Humphries here, if you need... Aggh! My dominoes!”
The man’s anguish caused John to grin and he relaxed back into his seat. “The bridge is fine, Mister Humphries, thank you. Head to engineering if you’re looking for something to do.”
“Yes, sir.”
The communicator switched off amid Humphries’ soft mutterings.
John let out a breath, rubbed his forehead with one hand then folded his arms across his chest.
“You can’t run the whole ship on your own,” McReidy told him.
“I’ve pushed them far enough. They’re at breaking point. You know as well as I do that space sickness takes weeks to reach this level.”
“You did throw the ship around pretty hard.”
“How about you?”
“I’m fine,” she lied.
“Remember when we had to jump start Magellan? When you got out of that shuttle you were still spinning.”
“I didn’t think you noticed.”
“I noticed. I had a lot of other things on my mind, but I noticed.” He was a million miles away. “Anyway,” he brought himself back to the present. “If you want to go –”
“Unless you have any objections, I’ll stay.”
A warm smile lit up his face briefly.
“I could do with a coffee,” she suggested.
“Actually I’d prefer rum.”
“On duty!”
“At the moment, I couldn’t care less. My desk,” he pointed towards his office. “Bottom right hand drawer.”
She was a little uneasy on her feet. He watched her until she disappeared into his office, then turned back to the console.
She returned to find him laying in a course. “Bachaan?”
He shook his head. “We just dumped a shipload of ambassadors in the middle of enemy territory. You think Command’s going to approve anything?”
One side of her face twisted. “I guess not. So where are we going?”
“To see Anthony. This old girl needs major repairs.” He spoke affectionately about the ship. “And take it easy with that stuff. It could be a while before anyone gets back up here. I don’t want to see you rolling around the floor drunk.”
Back to top
Chapter twenty five
The hours dragged; the rum helped. John’s headache eased but was replaced by a stuffiness that only seemed to get worse. It wasn’t just his head. The warmth he was experiencing had nothing to do with the rum or McReidy’s company. He ran a finger around the inside of his collar and wiped the back of his hand across his brow.
The bridge was quiet; the crew were taking well deserved breaks. Sick bay and engineering were working flat out. He talked freely with McReidy. Communications were linked to security and they were running through navigation and he kept glancing at the console.
“There’s nothing out there,” she assured him.
“We can’t lead anything back to the jump gate.”
“If anything was going as slow as us, they’d take us out,” she feigned lightness.
He rolled his eyes.
She turned serious. “We would deserve it.”
“Yeah…” He glanced at the console again and leaned back in his seat.
“We’ve got life support back.” Kowalski’s voice over John’s communicator seemed out of place for a moment in the closed atmosphere of the bridge.
“Thank you, Mister Kowalski.” John breathed a sigh of relief. His voice was calm, as though he had expected the outcome all along. It showed the confidence he had in his engineers. Any doubts he had were well hidden. Except from McReidy – or so he was beginning to suspect.
“Only problem is,” Kowalski continued, “we’ve lost climate control and these engines aren’t going to hold up.”
“Meaning?”
“It’s going to get pretty hot in here. Engines are overloaded and we blew a few crystals. They’re going to have to be replaced. But look on the bright side.”
“What bright side?” John was immediately suspicious when Kowalski sounded so chirpy.
“At least you didn’t melt the core like you did with Magellan.”
John caught McReidy’s smile before he answered. “Just get on with it,” he growled.
* * *
It was several hours later before any of the crew returned to the bridge. The bottle of rum, which had already been started on another occasion, was nearly half empty. As John heard the bridge door open, he grabbed it and stuffed it inside his jacket before anyone had time to see.
“Want to finish it off tonight?” he whispered to McReidy.
“Only if you’ve got some Coke to go with it.”
“I can find some.”
He was glad to be relieved by a fully alert crew. Giacomo’s eyes were clear and the colour had returned, Tan was as staid as ever and Gillespie rarely looked rattled. Humphries and Hartford hesitated just inside the bridge door.
“Helm… navigation,” John pointed to Humphries and Hartford in turn.
The both acknowledged and took their positions.
“Giacomo, you’re in charge.”
“Yes, sir.”
John knew better than to allow himself to become intoxicated. That was something he intended doing off duty. He wondered, as he left the bridge, if any of the crew suspected anything. He could hear the rum sloshing around in the bottle with each step he took. No one had any reason to suspect anything. Even if they did, they weren’t brave enough to say so.
He needed a good look at his ship. She’d taken a battering, but so had the crew. He left the bottle in his quarters and headed to sick bay.
It was quiet – the way he liked it. Beds were full – the way he didn’t like it.
Case was asleep, one arm bandaged from his fingers up past his elbow. Gunston was helping Lynn off a bed and onto her feet. She slumped as she tried to take her weight and he caught her.
“I’m okay,” she tried to brush him away.
Brenda was sporting a sticking plaster on her forehead as she read North’s chart and pushed his chest back down as he tried to sit up. A few others were in various states of consciousness or injury.
He made his way to Case – and shouldn’t have been surprised that the doctor came up behind him.
“Solder burns.”
John nodded.
“He’s the worst.”
“Permanent?” John dreaded to ask.
“Ugly scar, but doesn’t seem to be any real nerve damage. I won’t know until it heals properly.”
“I’ve gotta get back to work,” North insisted, his voice carrying across sick bay.
“You’re not going anywhere for at least another hour,” Dunlop told him.
At the doctor’s glare, North gave up and flopped back onto the bed. Brenda smirked at him and he folded his arms across his chest and looked away.
Dunlop turned his attention back to John, his voice quiet. “What happened?”
“We got jumped.”
Putting it into words, John realised it wasn’t anyone’s fault. As much as they could strategise and plot enemy ships, they simply had no way of knowing where anything was. The enemy’s forces were still unknown and Fleet and its allies were relying on fragments of information. Natural phenomena, unpredictabilities and alien technologies beyond their own only added to the lack of knowledge.
“I’ll leave you to it.”
The doctor moved away as silently as he’d approached.
John took another look around sick bay before heading to engineering. They were working around the clock in shifts. Red had things under control. Kowalski was having a catnap, curled up in a corner relatively out of the way. Lorraine was sitting against a wall with her knees up. An elbow propped on one knee and her cheek was resting in her palm.
“Lorraine,” Red caught sight of her. “I told you go and get some rest.”
Lorraine lifted her head and threw her arm towards the core. “Anna can’t do it on her own.�
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John followed her movement to where the science officer was wiring something together.
“I’ll talk her through it,” Red insisted. “You go and get some rest.”
Lorraine looked to John. He wasn’t going to override Red.
“All right,” Lorraine lifted her hands in defeat. “I’m going.”
She sat there for a moment, sheer exhaustion taking its toll, before she moved.
“Hartford’s on the bridge,” John told Red. “I can swap him out with Anna.”
He could have suggested Gillespie, but with McReidy and himself off the bridge, he didn’t want to leave them short.
Red shook his head. Sweat was beginning to bead and sprayed off him. “Nah, she’s doing all right. She’s been in here a bit and she’s got some basics.”
Science, engineering – there were similarities, John knew. And he’d be surprised if anyone on board hadn’t learned a skill beyond their own.
A glance to Lorraine. She was halfway to the door, her head lowered and her feet dragging.
“How’s the ship?” John asked. “Sam said we blew some crystals.”
Red shook his head. “She’s not fully operational, and won’t be unless we get parts. We’re sacrificing some systems to keep others running. Life support’s back and we’ve got water. Drinking water only, I’ve had to shut it off elsewhere. Climate’s gone, which puts water in doubt.”
Red wiped his sleeve down his face.
“It’s already warming up in here… And half speed, that’s all you’re going to get, sir. If nothing else goes wrong.”
John nodded. “What about outside?”
“No hull breaches.”
“That’s something.”
“Yes, sir,” Red muttered almost to himself, “that’s something.”
As John turned to leave, he spied Kowalski again. He sighed then bent down and scooped the engineer up, careful not to wake him.
“Come on, Sam,” he spoke almost to himself. “Let’s get you into bed.”
“Commander?”
John turned back to Red. Kowalski wasn’t heavy, not yet anyway. He held him easily. “Yes?”
When the Dust Settled Page 43