Nova

by Lora E. Rasmussen

  “Aye, Sir.”

  “Captain Serros, what’s your status, please?” With an exertion of exacting self–discipline, Diana managed to keep her tone steady even as her heart thudded inside her chest like a drowning man pumping for air.

  “Here, A.” Avara’s strained voice answered a moment later. Diana found that she could once again breathe.

  “Ship’s half–torn to Hell; docking tube’s gone and we’re making for the escape pods. How’s Excalibur?”

  “We have taken a significant amount of damage. The hull is ruptured on Decks 1 and 12, though emergency shields have locked. Communications and Sensors are down and Batteries 1 and 2 are blown. Still assessing casualties.”

  “Focus on the hull–breach and Sensors, Diana; communication is secondary since we don’t want the wrong people listening if we’re not up to greeting hostiles. The ship is definitely Karukai and military; slavers. There were no survivors.” Knowing Avara as she did, Diana could almost see the look of grief and searing fury in her rich blue eyes, as if the Captain was standing before her on the Bridge.

  “Acknowledged, Captain.” Adeline responded. She wanted to scream at Avara to focus on her own safety, to return to the Excalibur now. To tell her how deeply she loved her. Instead, with a measured calm she did not feel but was well–practiced at employing, Diana simply said “Keep safe.”

  “We’ll do our best,” Adeline could hear effort in the Captain voice, like a runner striving to make the finish–line. “And you do the same; Serros out.”

  “Lieutenant Commander, report from Deck 1 and Dr. Argos.” Marel announced a moment later.

  “Put her through, Lieutenant Ngai.” Diana replied. “Doctor, this is the Bridge. What’s your status?”

  “Lieutenant Commander, we’ve suffered some heavy casualties here.” Jenna’s normally lilting voice sounded raw yet was still crisp over the tinny on–board Comm. “At least three crew confirmed dead, including Medical Tech Ensign Sasha. The entire six–person Avernus Marine Squad guarding the outer Docking Tube is missing. It’s possible some are in vacuum and in need of pick–up. Eight crewmembers are seriously wounded yet stable. I’m now proceeding to Deck 5 and Med Bay.”

  “Understood, Doctor, and good work.” Adeline responded coolly, slipping fully into her role as Acting Captain. “I’ll pull personal with secondary Medical Training to assist. Keep me informed.”

  The channel cut, Diana looked towards the officer who she worked so closely with on a daily basis as her second. “Ngai?”

  “On it, Adeline.”

  “Lieutenant Commander,” Chopa began, his Old–Terran, English style syllables unusually slowly enunciated and drawn out as he avidly stared at his station’s readings. “With the sensors down, I can’t be sure, but…”

  Whatever the Excalibur’s Navigation Officer was about to say slipped away as a second later, three separate plumes of flame, each igniting one after the other, broke through the blackness of space to bleed from newly rendered gaping holes in Karukai raider, then sheet across its hull like a writhing shroud.

  Breaking the spell of fire and fear, Adeline started to snap out “Ambrose, bring up shields…” Only to have her words cut from her like a limb being torn from body. Without a murmur of protest sounding through the dead–silence of space, the TS Ardent seemed to suck into itself then burst into millions of fragments.

  The sight looked like nothing less than a clutch of orange, cherry, and saffron colored fireworks lit and let loose over Thames on Pax in celebration of Concordia.

  Once more the Excalibur rolled in the concussive blasts sweeping in all directions while the Ardent’s explosions vibrated across the void and the millions of pieces of material that once constituted the freighter, showered the Human frigate.

  “Ling, get me Captain Serros.” Adeline ordered into the following hush encompassing the Bridge. With precisely controlled movements, Diana slipped free of the Command Chair’s restraints and stepped forward towards the already fading fire grazing the dark before her.

  “No answer, Lieutenant Commander.” The short haired Junior Communications Officer informed.

  “The last report from Commander Perez was that he had boarded and was launching one of the Ardent’s life–pods, Pod 4.” Marel Ngai interjected, hope and disbelief dancing one atop the other in her voice.

  “Open up Nova’s channel.” Adeline ordered Ensign Ling, then spoke into the heartless dark. “Captain Serros, please read. Nova Squad, this is the QS Excalibur; report. Marcus, do you read? Avara, report!”

  Nothing, not even the shush of static sounded over the deck as the Bridge and CIC Staff looked into the beyond and Diana Adeline watched as the last flickers of flame struggling against the inky–night of space were extinguished, the final traces of oxygen consumed by the cold of vacuum.

  With the leaden feeling that often envelopes one’s body just before the last moments of life drain away and death releases suffering, Adeline quietly ordered “Lieutenant Ngai, please focus crew and techs on hull and sensor repair. Secondarily, I want launch capabilities restored ASAP so we can organize shuttle and fighter sweeps for any of our lost crew that may still be out there. Double–rotations until we’re there.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Lieutenant Jaxx and Ensign Ling, I don’t care what you have to do; get short–range communication up and up now.”

  At their confirmation, Adeline swept her dark eyed gaze around the Bridge and CIC. “All right then, let’s get to it. We have people to return and a ship to tidy.”

  *

  “Communications are up but Sensors are still a no go, Lieutenant Commander.” Junior Operations and Intelligence Officer Marel Ngai reported as she stood to attention before Adeline, seated, in Diana’s mind, like an interloper behind’s Captain Serros’s desk in the Captain’s Room. Portable data–screens and paper sheafs of technical schematics and sector charts dotted the smooth glass table surface, and her sixth cup of coffee rested cold and half–drained at her left hand.

  It had been fourteen hours since the destruction of the TS Ardent and still no word of Avara, Marcus, or the rest of Nova Squad. She had pushed both herself and the crew to the brink of exhaustion and beyond, and though they had as always performed marvelously, it still just wasn’t enough. Though the eventual repair of the Sensor Array would certainly help, sensor abilities would still be reduced due to the heavy sonite deposits in the area, making readings spotty at best. And despite Dr. Argos’s best efforts, they had lost another crewman four hours ago; concussion complications resulting in a brain hemorrhage. Several more members of the crew were still inactive as they were either being treated and monitored in the Medical Bay or recovering in their own quarters.

  So far the definitive casualties listed out at eight but another six, the second of Excalibur’s two marine details, were very likely given the chances of locating any survivors in the vacuum of space with sensors down.

  Still, Adeline forced herself to consider, though there was not much hope there was some. Specifically, hope in the form of a five–day ration of oxygen that was standard to sealed suits. Additionally, hull repairs were well underway, even if at best estimate, still two weeks out from completion, not including stress testing.

  Needless to say, an additional worry was that in reality, Excalibur was anything but prepared to face an unfriendly visit from another ship, a distinct possibility given the presence of the Karukai raider. The very real prospect of hostile contact meant that unless the Excalibur was either fully repaired (and hence, battle–ready) or prepared to bug out and leave the Arkaia System behind altogether, sending any long range communications for help was simply not a viable option. Such could too easily be intercepted.

  Mustering a confident nod for her Junior Officer and off–duty, her friend, Adeline responded, “Good to hear. I want constant monitoring of all frequencies and channels. Additionally, go ahead and launch some Comm Buoys to extend our sonite–limited range.”

 
; “Yes, Sir. Also,” Marel began, a dimpled smile making a brief appearance, “Ensign Alvarez has informed me that in approximately two hours, not only will the Shuttle and Fighter Bay be operational and we’ll once again be able to launch and land, but ES2 will be fully repaired. Additionally, both of Excalibur’s working shuttles and five starfighters have been fitted with extended sensor compliments to try and cut through the feed–back mess out there.”

  At the news, Diana felt the first genuine smile since the Ardent’s explosion begin to form. The Excalibur’s Senior Mechanical Engineer had been working like a dervish to get the Bay, shuttles and fighters first repaired then prepped so search parties could be sent to locate their missing crew. And the Captain.

  “Excellent news, Marel. Please extend my compliments to Ensign Alvarez. The second we are able, I want our two operable shuttles and starfighters out there conducting sweeps, broken into groups. First, I want three fighters and one shuttle to conduct quick runs, starting with the area immediately surrounding Excalibur, and then moving towards Dantis. Have the remaining two fighters and shuttle conduct more methodical and thorough searches along the same pattern.” Shifting in the Captain’s desk–chair and absently drumming her fingers along the table–top’s surface, Diana continued, “Additionally, have portable Comm Buoys launched at regularly spaced designations. Finally, get our last shuttle up and running. Understood?”

  “Yes, Sir!” Ngai acknowledged with a salute.

  “Yes, Lieutenant?” Adeline asked a few moments later as, despite her casual dismissal, the Junior Operations and Intelligence Officer continued to stand before her yet said nothing.

  “Well, um, Sir… I wanted to ask if you have managed to get any rack–time?”

  Seeing Marel’s discomfort at issuing her inquiry, Diana fought the urge to bark a dismissal. “No Lieutenant, I am afraid I have not; I will soon enough.” Adeline answered evenly.

  “That’s good, Sir. It’s just that it has been over twenty–three hours since you were off duty, and in my role as Junior Operation’s Officer, it’s my responsibility to…”

  “Yes, I understand completely, Lieutenant.” Adeline interrupted, again fighting the urge to snap out denial. “I shall attend to it soon enough. Thank you for your concern; you are dismissed.”

  “Yes, Lieutenant Commander.” Marel responded, a slight flush playing across her golden skin before exiting.

  As the doors swished behind the Junior Officer, Adeline suppressed a sigh as she leaned back in the chair for a moment and rubbed her overly tired eyes. She knew Marel was only doing her duty as both an officer and as a friend. Yet, despite their friendship, how could Marel truly understand how Diana felt? Marel’s wife, Ensign Zibai, was still safe aboard ship, carrying out her duties as Quartermaster and helping to organize the fabrication and allocation of repair supplies.

  Marel’s love and lover was not out in the dead of space or empty grass–plains and wastelands of the pip of a planet below.

  Or worse, forever beyond reach.

  And that, Diana thought as she rubbed her eyes with renewed vigor, is the crux of why I cannot not rest, cannot close my eyes.

  More than any potential threat of attack or even, God forbid, the almost unfathomable forfeiture of her other best friend, Marcus Perez, what she’d struggled with every minute and each second of the last fourteen hours was the fear that Avara was lost.

  It’s funny, Diana mused to herself, even though she had served in the Ministry Navy for the last sixteen of her thirty–six years, had lost friends and comrades to war and misfortune, come what may, it never even seemed possible that Avara could ever be truly lost. She’d always seemed untouchable, in a way. Irrepressible, undefeatable, driven, gifted, and utterly brilliant. Shield Operative Captain Avara Serros, the Arca VII with the uncontainable strength of will and equally powerful sense of compassion that had seen her walk through fire and back time and time again. All the while masterfully leading her crew to victory and safety right along with her.

  And her smile. That crooked half–smile, so full of good natured humor and laced with daring. That smile that Diana had fallen in love with from the first time it had been offered to her, to the many mornings and evenings she’d basked in its granted warmth during the last week–plus as they had lain in bed together, their lovemaking either igniting or spent.

  Feeling her throat constrict and vision begin to darken, once more Adeline exerted a herculean effort to keep at bay the soul–slicing pain that threatened to carve away resolve and sanity. Diana quickly stood to her feet and brushed through the door of the Captain’s Office to walk the Command Deck.

  She would continue do her duty, and she would continue to believe.

  *

  “Lieutenant Commander, Wing Commander King reports contact with a life–pod!”

  At Ling’s announcement, Adeline forced herself not to leap over to the Communication’s Station to verify the claim for herself. Assuming a position of calm repose in the Command Chair, instead she ordered “Put it over the Comm Ensign, if you please.”

  “Excalibur, this is Ghost One. I have sight of the Ardent’s Life–Pod 4 on my three. Do you read?”

  The fighter–squadron commander’s Old–Terran, Southern North–American lazy–drawl sounded tinny and was ruptured by interference, but was still easily recognizable.

  “This is Lieutenant Commander Adeline, Ghost One. Major King, report.”

  “Well now, communications are out but it’s our bird, sure enough. She’s got no maneuvering thrusters but,” King began, and Diana could hear the elation in the fighter–pilot’s voice, “I can see Commander Perez’s face, grinnin’ like a cat who jus’ swallowed a bowl full of cream.”

  Picturing Marcus’s expression in her mind, Adeline felt a surge of joy ride through her. “Excellent work, Wing Commander.” Diana complimented King, a recent addition to the crew but a rather exceptional and certainly in this moment, most welcome one at that. “His cream must be running out, so why don’t we bring him home?”

  Turning to the compactly built Junior Communications Officer, Diana followed with “Ling, task ES2 to shuttle–tug our Exec home. King, as soon as the shuttle arrives at your coordinates, continue your sweep pattern.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Between the shuttle journey and the tow, it took another thirty–three minutes before a stubble–faced but whole Marcus Perez walked out of the compact Karukai life–pod onto the Shuttle Bay’s deck.

  “Well, if you’re not a sight for sore eyes, Pirotécnica!” He announced with a tired grin as he caught sight of a straight backed but smiling Lieutenant Commander Adeline.

  In typical Marcus fashion, he utterly ignored protocol and grabbed her close in a brief, bone–rattling hug. “What took you so long, A? There’re no Human rations on a Karukai life–pod, you know. We were just about to run out of our own supply, and you know how grumpy I get when I’m hungry.” His tone was playful as he released her.

  With her gaze locked towards the life–pod’s other exiting occupants, Adeline replied “Half of our systems including Comm and Sensors, two shuttles, and our Shuttle Bay were blown out. Not to mention the bloody sonite befouling everything that is actually functioning on–ship.” Diana answered, only half–paying attention to his question and golden–brown gaze before rapping out, “Where is Avara?”

  “What? I assumed she… she’s not here?” Perez asked, confusion giving way to disbelieving anxiety. Naxos, Rygel, and Ca’rrakk had all filed out of the pod and stood around her in a semi–circle that, with Marcus, felt oddly protective and given the absence of the Captain, simultaneously suffocating. She absently noted a half–healed abrasion on Rygel’s brow.

  “No, she’s been lost since the explosion thirty–six hours ago, same as you were.” Diana impatiently replied. “What was her status when you last communicated?”

  “She and K’llan had started out on the lowest level, Deck 6, and with lifts out, had been making their way through
the maintenance crawl–way to reach the life–pods on Deck 2. They’d encountered an obstacle somewhere around Deck 3, and so were climbing up the elevator shaft. She had ordered us to disembark after repairing the other life–pod. They were almost at it when we ejected.”

  Adeline could see the color drain from his face, and all the light–humor she associated with Marcus slip away as just as she had been forced to do, he was faced with the very real question of Avara’s survival.

  “That was about fifteen seconds before Ardent’s explosions started, but… She was so close, I was sure she’d made it. I mean, it’s Avara.”

  With disbelief, surprise, and weariness falling off him like a worn, no longer needed coat, Marcus said to an unusually quiet Rygel, “Dane, I need you to perform a data dump on the pod and all our findings we pulled from the Ardent. Get me likely destinations for Avara and K’llan’s pod and where they would head if on–planet. Work with Jaxx and Adeline.”

  “Yes, Sir. If it is possible, we will find them; certes oui!” The Communications Officer and resident hacking expert responded, his blue–gray eyes almost feverish with commitment to the task.

  “Make sure you eat.” Turning to the eager faced Ensign Xiang who had accompanied Adeline to the Bay, Perez ordered “Yeoman, have Senior Mechanical Engineer Alvarez run a complete spec on the life–pod. Map out its capabilities, especially in regards to routing, and find out if there’s anything traceable in its construction. Then bring a generous helping of food and drink up to my Office.”

  “Yes, Sir!” The young man replied, practically smacking his head in enthusiasm, almond eyes pinched with determination.

  Ah, too be that young and wet behind the ears again.

  “Ca’rrakk, see if you can do anything to slice a path through the damn sonite so we can better find our people.”

  “I shall see what I can do, Commander. I think Dr. Thedonis was working on…” The Gorath began, speaking to himself as he was already walking away to his lab on Deck 5.