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 |  Two hundred years after a colony vanishes, they return with a warning. |
Link to previous chapter: "Chapter 26"  Last Leg Entering the bridge, Scott glanced at the Marine sentry when he announced, "Captain on the bridge!" Scott heard a more formal timber of the sentry's voice. Shay entered behind him and went to her station to check on ship's readiness. "Captain," she said. "All decks report ready. Lieutenant Lunnen requests permission to depart." "Give our flight leader the go-ahead Commander, and wish him Godspeed." "Aye sir," Shay said switching to the shuttle's com. "Permission granted, Shuttle Juno, you are cleared to depart. The Captain asked me to wish you Godspeed, Commander." She listened to his response and nodded to the Captain. "Proceed, Mr. Lembke," Scott ordered as he sat and attached the seat restraints. The warning tone sounded, and the OD warned of imminent sub-light engine burn. Scott's stomach was tight with the knowledge that Lunnen's life was almost certainly forfeit. His sacrifice could ensure they reached Earth without leading the enemy right to it. Lembke gave the order, and the engines started to move the damaged warship. They would still have to limit the acceleration for ship's safety, but the McHenry was finally moving in a direction away from the Juno. The direction chosen for the assault shuttle was designed to make it appear that the McHenry was heading across the system in a direction that would keep the ship inside the hyper limit for an extended time justifying the UNF vessel taking longer to reach the transition point for FTL. "Ensign Waters," Scott said. "Watch for that ghost. I'd feel better knowing we got clear before we are spotted." "Aye, sir." Scott looked around the bridge noting the hastily repaired damage. Scorch marks and patches were plentiful. The odor of burnt circuits still permeated the room, but all the stations were working and manned. There were some new faces since the completion of the repairs. The XO assured Scott they were qualified. An hour passed as the McHenry, and the assault shuttle sped on opposite paths across the system. The cruiser was minutes away from transition velocity when the OD caught the Captain's eye. Scott nodded to the Lieutenant. "All decks, stand by for transition in four minutes," Lembke announced. After tone sounded, the ship transitioned to FTL. The familiar wrench in Scott's stomach seemed stronger, and he noticed greater discomfort among the bridge crew. "Transition complete. Time to waypoint, eight hours twenty-nine minutes," announced navigation. "Any sensor contact?" Scott asked. "No, sir. All boards clear. No ships or ghosts." Scott looked over at Shay summoning her with a glance. "Melynda. I would like to believe the ruse is working, but...," he stopped. "You aren't confident," she finished for him. "What would you like me to do?" "Continue your battle and repair drills." Shay narrowed her eyes and frowned but didn't reply. "This ship is in no condition to do battle. We should do everything to increase our chances of surviving any conflict if we can't avoid it." Shay sighed. "I know Captain. I was just considering what revisions to make to our last set of drills. Some of the compartments we drilled in don't exist anymore." Scott rubbed his temples, "Do the best you can and send a copy of the revised drills to me. Wait until we pass the waypoint to let the ship settle and make sure no one is following us before beginning the drill series." Scott got out of his seat. "I'll be with Captain Matvei for a short time. I'd like to discuss a few things with her. After that, I'll be in the gym working out." Scott started towards the bridge hatch but stopped when Commander Shay touched his arm. Scott looked back at his XO and arched his eyebrows. "John, has Doctor Lehr cleared you for exercise?" she asked, her voice and expression indicating she knew the answer. Scott saw her concerned expression and relaxed. "I guess he hasn't," he said. "Perhaps a walk around would be better," Shay suggested. "Perhaps," he said, with a sad smile. "You have the bridge, Commander." "I have the bridge," Shay acknowledged as Scott stepped into the lift. Wandering Scott decided not to go directly to the Russian's cabin but take the suggested walk around. The light gray bulkheads and corridors were burnt and scorched in places. Parts of the ship were deformed and missing with occasional areas blocked to seal off the cold and death of space. Scott had always been aware of the dangers of leaving Earth and traveling between the stars. The battles and damage to his ship, along with the horror of seeing his crew suffer and die, brought a new poignancy to that awareness. He knew his life would never be the same. The deaths of his crew weighed heavily on him, and he wondered if it all might be pointless. They come way out here and find a new life form for the first time. Instead of excitement and the exchange of ideas, there is war and death. It seemed life everywhere was determined to fight what they did not understand. Grab for themselves every resource or at the least, fight to survive another's agenda. The crew's faces were serious, showing little joy or hope as they stood aside to let the Captain pass. Their posture seemed stiff and formal compared to the more casual attitude Scott had cultivated on his ship. He found himself stepping into the boat bay where the flight leader had departed on his voluntary death mission. The Marines were practicing close order fighting in the center of the room surrounded by crewmen who excitedly watched the matches cheering their favorites. Scott noticed money exchanging hands just as someone yelled, "Attention on deck!" Everyone in the room either jumped up or straightened into attention." Scott looked at his crew seeing guilt and fear on some faces because shipboard gambling was against regulations. Both the non-commissioned and the commissioned officers usually turned a blind eye as long as it did not get out of hand. Being caught by the Captain was another matter, and Scott knew he should act. After what the men had been through, he didn't have it in him to reprimand these people, his people, who had gone to battle and sacrificed and bled on his orders. "As you were," Scott said. Most relaxed save the few who guessed their Captain had seen the money change hands. They stood stiffly waiting for the boom to descend. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm just looking the ship over. Instrumentation on the bridge is one thing. Seeing the repairs and the work you all have done first hand is another. Well done all. Carry on with your - entertainment," Scott said with a knowing smile. A few of the crew looked at each other shocked that the Captain hadn't reacted. Scott gave a sloppy salute and turned to leave, glancing at the empty place where the assault shuttle Juno had once stood. "May God be with you, Commander," Scott thought as he left the room. He continued his rounds of the ship deciding to see firsthand everything his crew had done, both by the book, and miraculous. He felt the pressure in his chest at the slightly higher concentration of Carbon Dioxide in the air knowing that the levels hadn't risen enough for him to feel anything. It was just the odor of destruction with the smell of blood and death that made him imagine what he did. Scott walked the rest of the way through the ship thanking his crew for their efforts. He gave no more words of wisdom. No more inspiring speeches. Only his heartfelt thanks for their rise to greatness that had saved the ship and paved a path home. Most of the crew were just like the first he has passed in the passageways, sober and serious. He thanked them for their efforts and sacrifices on behalf of the Navy and Earth, but mostly for himself. When Scott entered sickbay, the med staff took notice but did not snap to attention. That formality was not expected in the medical section when patients were present. Sickbay is in the most protected portion of the ship, along with CIC and the secondary bridge, either of which could continue fighting the ship if the main bridge were disabled or destroyed. Scott had passed the hold where medical supplies were normally kept. They had been removed to make room for the overflow of the wounded. He hoped there would not be more battles to bring additional casualties and that the trip the rest of the way to fleet command would be uneventful. Something in his gut told him that they would not be so lucky. Even maintaining the damaged ship would be event enough to keep everyone busy for the remaining weeks until they arrived. The antiseptic smell grew stronger as he approached the medical ward. Doctor Lehr, approached the Captain having received a signal from his staff. "John," he said, getting Scott's full attention. He looked at the Doctor for a moment before looking at the wounded all around him, filling the available space. "Doctor?" Scott finally asked. "How are my people doing?" "Come with me to my office. You look like you need to sit down." Arguing just wasn't worth it. Scott followed the Doctor into his office and sat down in front of the desk and waited for the big man to sit down. "You need rest too, John. A few weeks ago, you were seriously injured, and though mostly healed, your energy reserves will take time to recover. Especially with the air purity degradation we will soon be facing." "You have made that clear before, Doctor. I was headed to my quarters when I felt I had to check on the crew personally. After all they've sacrificed, it was the least I could do." The Surgeon did not speak for a moment apparently deciding how to answer. "That could help moral if you feel up to it, John. I walked by a few you have visited with on my way back here. They do look better." I'll visit as many of the wounded as I can." We have the worse cases here. Those who may be unable to wake up or who's injuries keep them out, as well as those we placed in medical comas. There are some that are conscious with whom you could speak. "I'd appreciate it Doctor, if you would accompany me to the beds of those you think I should talk to." "Of course, Captain, I'd be happy to," Lehr said. They began the round in the room next to the Chief Surgeon's Office. Inside was a man with his head and one arm covered in bandages. The second was missing from the middle of his upper arm down. The equipment keeping the man alive hummed softly. His eyes were closed, and he seemed asleep. Scott stood and stared for a moment saying nothing saddened by the site of the missing limb. The Doctor leaned toward Scott and whispered, "Crewman Wendt, has second and third-degree burns on one-half of his body in addition to losing his left arm. He was injured saving Master Chief Morgan, who, thanks to this man, was only slightly injured." Scott knew that there were casualties. He had presided over their services. Seeing the injuries up close, even covered, broke through the barrier he had put up to protect himself. As a navy officer, he was not weak, but Scott found his eyes swimming in tears. The Doctor spoke to the man in the bed, "Crewman Wendt, the Captain is here to see you." Scott had not spoken since the man seemed unconscious. Wendt's eyes fluttered open moving around the room finally centering on Scott. Out of the man's cracked and burnt lips, Scott heard a raspy, "Captain?" "Please don't speak Mr. Wendt. I'm here to check on you." Crewman Wendt gave a significant look at the bandage still on Scott's head before returning his gaze to the Captain's face. Scott felt touched by the obvious concern in the man's eyes. "I'm fine Mr. Wendt, thank you for your concern and thank you for saving the men you did. We would not be underway now if not for your actions." Despite Scott's instructions, the man croaked out, "Thank you, sir." Scott knew that medicine could do amazing things for this man, even replace his arm, but he was in for a long hard road. Scott smiled and nodded his head. "I'll come by and check on you again, Mr. Wendt. Get some rest." Scott saw tears in the man's eyes and hoped it was only emotion. The surgeon moved them to the next bed and whispered, "Chief Perkin's vacsuit tore while repairing a plasma conduit in a compartment open to space. The same one where we lost the entire gun crew. He worked to cut the plasma flow and avoided losing the whole node of launcher tubes. By the time they got him inside - well, he has been in a coma ever since." Despite the injuries to his face, the captain could see that it was just a boy. Scott raised his eyes to meet the doctor's silently asking. The man shook his head. The pain of loss is greater the younger they are," Scott thought. Scott went to the bed of each of the wounded and spoke to those who were conscious. After sickbay, he went to the makeshift hospital in the closest medical cargo hold. The visits, though heart-wrenching in some cases, seemed to do both the crew and him good, lifting their spirits and changing their demeanor. His people had been through the refiner's fire and come out stronger. He hoped it would be enough. After Scott, had finished with those in the medical section, he continued his round of the rest of the ship thanking and encouraging. He stopped at the hatch to one of the compartments open to space when the dead were kept. Scott stared at all the carefully wrapped bodies. "Too many," he whispered. Scott had left the bridge bound for Captain Matvei's cabin but knew he needed more to do this walk around. As much for himself as for the crew. Link to next chapter: "Chapter 28" |
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