First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3

by KOTCHER, MICHAEL

  Chapter 8

  Brianne Crgann, rocky-skinned Secaaran, Commander of the Republic Navy destroyer Horus, sat in her command seat on the bridge of the warship. They were cruising along in hyperspace, the only surviving ship of the picket forces of Byra-Kae, heading for any sort of safe harbor. She tapped her blocky forefinger against the arm of her chair, while she studied the most recent engineering report. Great. More problems. I suppose I should be happy that the old boy managed to do so well in the battle, but I can’t believe we’re to come so close to a possible sanctuary only to fail. The engines were running as hot as they dared, but they had fuel leaks, hull breaches, and so many dead, it was taking everything her crew had to keep the ship flying on the correct course, much less easing into a safe system.

  Brianne, of course, had no way of knowing if the Heb star system would be safe. The pirate lord Verrikoth and his flotilla had not flown in from that direction. Sensors had extrapolated their course had been from Ulla-tran, but she had no idea what actually awaited them in Heb. It might be a font for pirate activity, for all she knew. That was unlikely, that a pirate base would be less than five light years from Byra-Kae, but perhaps another ship was awaiting them there. Horus was just barely flying; he was in no shape to take on another pirate ship in any kind of fight. His expendable munitions were nearly completely gone, most of her energy weapons were offline, shields barely covered the whole ship; in short, Horus was a mess.

  Her comm panel beeped. She pressed the control. “Captain here.”

  “Captain, it’s Petty Officer Realt,” a young man answered. “She’s regained consciousness. The Commodore is asking to speak with you.”

  “Is there any change in her prognosis?” Brianne asked, concerned.

  “No, no serious changes, ma’am,” Realt asked. The young man was acting as a medic for the injured on the ship when sickbay took horrendous damage. He was not well trained in medicine; in fact he’d barely passed his basic first aid quals. Unfortunately, he was the best trained crewmember who could be spared to care for the wounded aboard the ship. The entire medical staff had been killed in the attack and Realt was doing the best he could to help. “But she seems a bit stronger. And she’s asking for you to come down and report.”

  Brianne nodded. “Very well. I’ll be down directly,” she said and cut the connection.

  The short walk to the Commodore’s stateroom brought Brianne to the woman’s bedside in just a matter of seconds. “Ma’am,” Brianne asked, taking up a position on the side of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

  Theodosia McConnell looked like hell. She had been thrown from her seat when the ship had taken a particularly vicious hit and had crashed against the bulkhead, shattering her left arm. She’d been taken off the bridge and was being carried to sickbay when another missile hit the destroyer amidships and tore into the hull. She’d been caught in the explosion, which caused serious internal damage and crushed her legs. The yeoman who had been carrying her was killed instantly and she’d lain there for nearly an hour before someone was able to come and get her. Somehow, the breach in the hull had been sealed and she hadn’t suffered vacuum exposure on top of everything else, but without proper medical facilities or even a proper doctor, there was only so much that could be done. How Petty Officer Realt had managed to keep the Commodore alive, no one seemed to know. He had his nose in the medical journals and had somehow managed to keep her from bleeding to death for the three weeks. If they managed to get to a proper medical facility, it would take a hell of a lot of work for a full trauma team to restore the woman, but once this was all over, Brianne was determined that the man would receive a medal for his efforts.

  The woman looked over at her flagship captain and grimaced. “I feel like hell, Brianne,” she said, her voice a croak. “And I know that I look like hell too. So save your sympathies. You have a ship to save, far more important people than me.”

  “That’s not true, ma’am,” the Secaaran replied. “You’re the ranking officer.”

  “No, Brianne,” she disagreed. “You are the ranking officer. I’m not getting out of this bed anytime soon. What’s our status?” she finally asked after a long pause.

  Brianne sighed. “Not great, ma’am. We lost a third of the crew in the battle and another eleven, including you, are down with injuries. I know that Petty Officer Realt has been doing his best, but he’s overwhelmed. And I have almost no one to spare to help him. The remainder of the crew is doing everything they can to either try and repair our damage or keep the ragged systems running. Six compartments on the port side are open to space. We’re managing to hold our hyperspeed at Red level seven, and I think we can make it to Heb. But it’s going to be a very close thing, ma’am.”

  “Anything the Chief can do?”

  “Not with the parts we have on board, ma’am. We were due for a supply shuttle, scheduled for later in the day of the attack, so everything is low. Spare parts, fuel, food, medical supplies, though since sickbay’s gone, that hardly mattered.” Brianne looked down. “It’s actually can be looked at as a good thing that we have so many casualties, ma’am, because if we were still operating at full crew levels, we wouldn’t have enough rations to go around.”

  McConnell snorted, then winced. “Small favors, I suppose.”

  Brianne nodded, looking up. “Once we reach Heb, we’re going to have to make our way in system. It’s going to be a several day trip in, and unfortunately, our hyperdrive systems are going to take some work. If it fails, we don’t have the parts to get it running again.”

  “What does the Chief say?”

  “She’s been bitching for days about crappy equipment and exhausted crews, ma’am,” she answered. “Just like the rest of the officers.”

  “I see. Well, like I said, you’re the ranking officer now, Brianne,” the commodore replied. “I know you’ll be able to get us through… this…” Her eyes were fluttering and a few of the machines started beeping.

  An instant later the petty officer was in the room. He checked the readouts. “She’s losing consciousness, ma’am.” He let out a deep breath. “Honestly, Commander, I think you should go.”

  She nodded. Stepping back out of the way, she saw him increase the morpha drip and the commodore suddenly went limp on the bed, her eyes sliding shut. “Get better, ma’am,” she whispered and then turned and walked out the door.

  After what felt like an eternity of stress and worry, the pilot turned to Brianne at his seat on the bridge. “Skipper, we’re one minute from breakout into the Heb system.”

  She sighed. “Thank the stars.” She pressed a control, activating the ship’s PA system. “All hands, this is the Captain. We are finally approaching the hyper limit.” There were gasps of excitement from the other bridge hands, though they would have known to the second how long it would take for them to cross the void from Byra-Kae to Heb. Hearing the Captain say it somehow made it more real. “Prepare for breakout. Then we just have the haul across the system. I know how hard all of you have been working to make it here. We just need to hold on for a little while longer. Crgann out.”

  “Approaching hyper limit, Captain,” the pilot reported.

  “Disengage hyperdrive, helm. Engage for sublight.”

  There was a noticeable jolt as the ship exited from faster than light travel, and the sensors registered a burst of tachyon particles surging outward in a visible wave for a short distance from the shield bubble.

  “Report.”

  “We have breakout,” the pilot replied. “Shield strength is holding at fourteen percent.”

  “No additional damage suffered in the breakout,” the sensor officer reported.

  “Thank you, Lieutenant Klieg,” Brianne said. “All right helm, nice and easy, set a course in system, heading for the habitable planet.”

  “Aye, Captain,” the man replied, diligently working his console. “I have a course laid in. We’re going to have to accelerate up to only twenty-five and then disengage engines.”
>
  “Twenty-five?” Brianne demanded. “Why so slow? This ship can handle up to five hundred.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the pilot agreed. “But with our damage and the amount of fuel we’ve lost, we can’t afford to go racing across the system. If we keep the speed down it’ll obviously take a lot longer to get where we’re going, but we’ll have just enough fuel left to bring us into a stable orbit around the planet when we arrive.”

  She sighed, the sound came out like gravel being crushed. “Very well.” She waved her hand. “Go ahead, helm. Get us moving.”

  “Aye, Captain.” A few more controls being worked and the ship shivered as the sublight engines kicked in. Less than one minute later, the shiver went away. “We’re moving at speed twenty-five. Sublights powered down. I’ll bring them up again as needed for course corrections.”

  “What’s our ETA?”

  A quick check, but then the man’s face fell. “Nine days, seven hours, nineteen minutes.”

  Brianne stroked her forehead. “Very well. I’ll be in Engineering, speaking with the Chief. Mister Klieg, you have the bridge.”

  “Aye, ma’am,” the zheen replied. “I have the bridge.”

  Days later, Crgann was summoned to the bridge by a very excited zheen sensor officer. Stepping into the command compartment, she looked to the lieutenant at the sensor station. “All right, Klieg, what’s going on?”

  “We’re detecting the habitable planet, right where it’s supposed to be, ma’am,” the zheen replied.

  “That’s excellent,” she said, clearly not impressed. “I hope you didn’t drag me up here in the middle of the ship’s night just to tell me that the planet is right where we’d expected it to be.”

  His antennae drooped. “Uh, no Captain. But we’re also detecting a ship in orbit. A big one.”

  She frowned. “A ship? Show me.” She stepped behind the zheen, looking at his displays.

  He pointed. “Here, ma’am. Whatever it is, like I said, it’s a big bastard. But the power signature is too high for civilian, but a bit too low for military.”

  She tipped her head to the side slightly, staring at the display. “Yes, you’re right about that. But as far as we know, are there any ships out here in the Argos Cluster that big?”

  Klieg did a quick search in the ship’s database. “Well, Captain, assuming that there are no pirate vessels that large, and I sincerely hope there are not…”

  “I second that,” the Secaaran agreed.

  “Then the only ship that matches what we’re showing is a civilian freighter, the Grania Estelle. Came through Byra-Kae eleven years ago. She’s a bulk freighter, been wandering around the Cluster for the last half century.”

  Brianne nodded. “Well, I suppose that’s a good thing. A ship that large, maybe they’ll have some reconditioned parts they could sell us. Or maybe some food.”

  “Or medical supplies,” the pilot put in.

  “Right. Open a channel to that ship. We’re still a few light minutes away, but I want to let them know who we are.” She stepped over to her command seat and sat down. Pressing the command, she started to speak.

  “Captain, we’re receiving an incoming transmission from that ship,” Serinda stated. She frowned. “You need to hear this. Actually, it’s video and audio.”

  Vincent gestured to the forward display. “Put it up.”

  The main display changed from an overhead view of the city of Vanoria below to what appeared to be a control room of a ship, most likely a bridge. A stone-faced figure of a Secaaran was front and center, but based on the uniform, it looked as though the ship was a Republic Naval vessel.

  “This is Commander Brianne Crgann on the Republic Navy Destroyer Horus to the ship in orbit of the third planet in this system. We are the last surviving Republic ship from the base at Byra-Kae. We have severe damage and a great number of wounded. We will be arriving in orbit of the planet in thirty-two hours. Please, we have no hostile intentions.” The female sighed. “We are in desperate need of assistance.” She hesitated for a moment. “I hope to hear from you soon. Crgann out.”

  Vincent sighed. “Stella? What do we have on that ship?”

  “Well, we’ve never actually encountered that before. Even going through the databanks, all the way back to when my hull was originally built, we’ve never come across that ship before. But it is carrying Republic markings and imbedded in the communication are clear Republic indicators. The ship at least, is a Republic warship. Whether what she’s saying is true…” The AI shrugged. “I don’t know, Captain. I’d need to get in a lot closer and see what I can dig out of her mainframes.”

  “Do we have any more information on the damage that the Commander indicated?”

  “Yes, Captain, we do,” George indicated. “Still don’t have a clear read on the ship, but it’s clear that the ship has suffered a great deal of damage. I’m not terribly familiar with warships in general, but I can see a gaping hole in the port side. And it looks like their engines are damaged as well and streaming neutrinos. Can’t imagine that’s going to be easy or cheap to fix up.”

  Vincent smirked. “No, George, I can’t imagine it will.” Then he brightened. “Maybe we can get Quesh to fix her up well enough to get the ship back to Seylonique where we can get Tamara and her techs to get her up and running again. Never had a contract with the Republic before. Might be something lucrative.”

  “We still don’t have a contract with the Republic,” Stella pointed out. “But you’re right. If we can secure one, it might be very lucrative.”

  Vincent nodded. “All right. Stand by to record a message for me.”

  “Ready, Captain,” Serinda replied.

  “Commander Crgann, this is Captain Vincent Eamonn on the FP Corporate ship Grania Estelle. We have received your message and I have my medical teams standing by to assist. We understand that you recently were in a battle at Byra-Kae and I would be grateful for any information about that that you can provide. I’m always concerned about any forces that are willing to take on the Republic. I also have engineering teams, but they are currently engaged in operations on the surface. Once that is completed, I would be more than happy to speak with you about repairs to your ship. Please contact me back with information on your wounded. My doctor will need as much information on their condition as you can give him. Eamonn out.”

  He turned to Serinda. “Recorded, Captain.”

  “Send it. And then get Turan on the line.”

  A moment’s pause and then, “Message sent. I’ve got the doctor on the line.”

  “Captain, what’s happening?” the Guura’s voice came in.

  “There’s a Republic warship coming in,” Vincent said simply.

  “There’s a what?”

  “You heard me, Turan,” he said. “But they’re heavily damaged and apparently loaded with casualties. I need you and your medical staff to drop what you’re doing down there and get back up to the ship. I know from your own reports that the need for you and your people has gone down considerably in the last few days. The locals have their own doctors; they can spare you and your people.”

  “I understand, Captain,” the doctor said, sounding as though he was busy moving or running through corridors. “Do we have any information into the status of the injuries?”

  “I just sent a communication to the ship in question,” Vincent replied. “We’re waiting to hear back but it’s going to be a few minutes. In the meantime…”

  “Yes, I’ll round up my people, make sure that they have any patients transferred over to local doctors, and then we’ll be back up to the ship.”

  He sighed. “How long?”

  “To make sure all the patients are taken up by local doctors? It’s going to take a couple days. I wasn’t expecting this to be happening, Captain. We were going to be phasing them over by the time we were going to be leaving. I can’t just dump them.”

  “Wait one,” Vincent said. “George, at current speed, how long will it take for that
ship, what it is called, the Horse?”

  “Horus, Captain,” the operations officer said.

  “Yes, that,” Vincent replied. “How long until they get here?”

  “Well, like their commander said, assuming no changes in their courses and speed, they’re going to be in orbit in thirty-two hours. After that, without knowing the extent of the damage on their ship, who knows what their status is going to be. They might be falling apart as it is. I think we need to assume that they are on their last legs and need us to be ready and able to respond as they’re coming into orbit.”

  He nodded. It was a reasonable assumption. “Yes, I agree. I’ll talk to Quesh, see how many of his engineering teams he can spare.”

  George and Stella exchanged looks, which was impressive, because she wasn’t physically on the bridge, just projecting an image of herself on the holo projector. “My guess, Captain, is none. Things are moving at a very steady pace right now and with the slowdowns because of the plasma conduits, he’s going to tell you that he needs everyone exactly where they are. And I’m sure the Governor won’t be happy about pulling his engineering teams off the reactor project.”

  “I know that, George,” Vinent said, rubbing his forehead. Acheron Vall had been touting the virtues of the Grania Estelle’s engineering teams and of the local teams as well. They had been sticking to the schedules religiously and with the influx of fuel from the collector out at the gas giant had brought the generators up to full power. Vincent had added another collector to make sure that there would be a surplus of fuel ready once the power plant was up. In truth, they would need another gas mine out here to provide fuel. The fuel needs for the people here in Heb wasn’t anywhere near what it was for the people Seylonique, and there was a great deal of fuel that was being stockpiled there. Vincent started mentally rubbing his hands together. They could start making a nice trade route here, fuel and food. The growing season was exceptionally long here, allowing for two harvests for Seylonique’s one. That would allow the company to sell food to Seylonique as well as keeping back enough to make sure that they could keep their employees out at the gas giant and the asteroid belt fed. But it was doable.