H.M.S. Swiftshire - Cover

H.M.S. Swiftshire

Copyright© 2008 by Monbade

Chapter 11: The Derelicts

Aboard the Swiftshire, everyone was still in shock from the sudden destruction of the London. Steven turned, and started issuing his orders to the bridge crew, "Ensign Rickers, please get me the Reflex. I wish to speak with Captain Sheik as soon as possible. Notify the fleet we are slowing to one third power."

"Aye, aye, Sir," the communications officer replied, as he started to contact the Reflex. While the fleet moved deeper into the Nebula, sensors detect the detonation of the mines.

"Slowing to one third power," replied the helmsman.

"Sir, I have Captain Sheik on line one."

"Thank you Ensign Rickers. Main screen please." The image of Captain Sheik appeared on the screen. "Melody you are now second in command of the fleet. With the destruction of the London and the death of Captain Harris, you will now assume command of division two. Reorganize your division to protect the Ajax. However, you deem fit. Or if we have to we will leave them here to finish repairs and head for home."

"Right away Commodore. Ajax will join with the Glory and the Portland. I know this puts three damaged ships together but better this then spreading them out among the fleet."

"What ever you decide Captain. If those are your orders, have them obeyed. Swiftshire out." As the image of Captain Sheik fades from the screen, Lieutenant Barlow turned from his sensors.

"Sir, sensors have detected hundreds of explosions from the minefield. It looked like all of them have detonated."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Barlow, maybe we got them all."

"Sir, it's very possible they were in tight formation." Lieutenant Barlow replied, as he turned back to his screens, his sensors lit up, "Sir, receiving a communication from the sensor buoy. I am analyzes it now." Barlow read the scans, where he soon learned that a lot of men and women have just died. "Sir, the scans suggest only three or four enemy ships have escaped the trap."

"Only three or four, good. Helmsman all stop lets initiate repairs. Lieutenant Barlow, notify the fleet we will stop and make what repairs we can. Order all damage repairs crews from the undamaged ships to help the damaged ones."

"Aye, aye, Sir, coming to a complete stop," replied Ensign Rickers as Lieutenant Barlow contacted the rest of the fleet. Within minutes, the fleet was coming to a dead stop. Repair teams were sent out to weld armor plates over the holes in the sides of the ships. To realign damaged weapon mounts and replace damages radar arrays. Steven turned and activated his com unit.

"Commander Nirisha, here."

"Commander, I am going to get some sleep. You have command. Wake me at zero-five hundred hours or as soon as repairs are finished. We will then get underway."

"I relive you sir, and good night."

Steven got up and walked out of the bridge. He soon entered his cabin and went right to bedroom. Standing there, he peeled off the armored suit, letting the pieces drop to the floor. Staggering into to the shower, he set the spray nozzle. Water streamed over his body, taking the soreness away. After ten minutes, he shut the water off, reaching out he grab a towel to dry off with and stepped out. On the counter, some shorts and underwear were waiting for him. Getting dressed he walked into the bedroom and collapse on the bed not even bothering to get under the covers. As they hours drift on, the crews finished what emergency repairs that were feasible. Soon all ships have restored hull integrity and the dead were laid to their final rest.

Several hours later, the com unit chimed in the captain's cabin. Steven reached over and activated it, "Tallfeather here. What is it?

"Sir, Commander Nirisha here. You wanted to be woken up at 0500 hours."

Glancing at the clock, he replied, "Thank you Commander. I will be up as soon as I dress and eat." Grabbing a new uniform, he dressed and walked out to the smell of hot coffee and rolls. Sitting at the table, he drank his coffee, trying to wake up. Twenty minutes later Steven finished and left his room walking the short hallway to the elevator. Stepping in, he said, "bridge." The elevator shot the three decks to the main bridge. Walking onto the bridge, he stopped and looked around at the crew working, "Status report, Commander."

"Sir, all outer repairs have been finished. All ships now hull integrity and starting internal repairs estimated time of repairs is seven hours ten minutes. I have set condition yellow throughout the fleet. If you don't mind sir, I am going to get some sleep."

"Very good, Commander Nirisha. You are relived. I will wake you in six hours unless something comes up. Ensign Rickers set a course of 300 Mark 12, speed 300k. Lets get moving."

As Commander Nirisha walked off the bridge, the fleet started moving deeper into the Tanner Nebula.

"Aye captain, setting course of 300 Mark 12 speed 300k. Continuing scans as we go sir."

Steven glanced at the tactical board as he sat in his command chair, and replied, "Very good, Ensign." Activating the command screen, he called up the damage reports, and started reading how bad they had been hurt.

As the ships travel through the Nebula, the internal repairs were well under way. On the bridge of the flagship, Steven leaned back after reading the damage reports. Two cruisers the Ajax and the Glory heavily damaged. The Ajax has lost all her stern weapons, and the Glory has lost several laser mounts, one missile bay and her stern boat bay. Causalities on both cruisers were heavy, two hundred and twelve dead one hundred and sixty-five wounded thirty-two missing. One destroyer the Portland lightly damaged and the destroyer London lost with all hands. Not bad when you consider that Gormarian's lost seven times as many ships. Soon the hours have drifted by and the fleet was halfway through the Nebular. The ships travel at slow speed, because of the frozen ice and rocks that make up a Nebular can hide navigation hazards. Steven turned and looked at the communications officer.

"Midshipman Sanders get me Commander Nirisha, also lets start getting the crew out of their suits," Steven said as he sat in his chair. He was glad to be out of his armor even with its advanced cooling system, the suit would still get quite warm after awhile. The command battlesuit were more advanced then the normal one for the crew. It had enough air reserves for forty hours, a waste recycle, and advanced electronics so he could contact any part of the ship as well as the marine armory. Also hidden in each arm were two lasers that could kill an armored person within five feet of him.

"Right away, Sir, and I for one will be glad to get out of them. Sanders, Jacob and Holloway, go get out of your suits and report back here," he said as he pointed to three of the bridge crew to get out of the battlearmor, and continued, "Captain, Commander Nirisha is on line three."

Pressing the button to turn it on, he said, "Commander, time to get up, get some hot food in you and then report to the bridge."

"Right away, Sir." I will be there in ten minutes.

"Take your time. Get a shower get some hot food in you. Everything is quite up here. I am standing the ship down to yellow alert, one third of the crew in suits, two thirds out and resting." Cutting the channel, he got up and walked over to the coffee dispenser. He was pouring himself a cup of coffee, when Midshipman Rickers, suddenly shouted out a warning.

"Sir, several ships dead ahead."

At those words, Steven jerked his head around towards Midshipman Rickers. Then his eyes darted to the screen as his cup fell to the deck and he turned fully around as he shouted out, "On main screen."

The main screen lights up showing an image of several ships directly ahead of the fleet. The ships range from a small destroyer to a bulky freighter to several liners. Less then four miles in front of the Swiftshire was a blocky freighter, and he shouted out, "All hands brace for impact. Turn to port, heading of 265 Mark 16."

"Aye sir."

The Swiftshire turned to port trying to avoid the freighter. However, it was all is in vain, as the ships bow scraped against the side of the freighter. Hull plates grind against each other. From the impact, crewmen go flying all over the ship. In boat bay one, one of the fighters was flipped from its cradle and exploded into a ball of flames. Very quickly, the fighter's ready missiles started detonating, causing a rupture in the hull, which sucked fourteen crewmembers to their deaths. Before anymore could be sucked out, the emergency force fields snapped on. The freighter spun to the left and away from the ship. Everyone knew that the Swiftshire luck has run out. Steven flew across the rail. He had lost his balance and his shoulder slammed into the back of his chair brace.

Steven picked himself up off the floor, a sharp pain shot through his right shoulder as he stood up. Holding his right arm steady, he turned to Commander Verik, and asked, "Damage report!"


In her quarters, Commander Lisa Nirisha had just turned the water on and started shampooing her hair when the two ships collided. The collision hurled her against the wall of the shower. Then she went flying through the water screen and her head slammed into the metal sink. Blood sprayed everywhere when she hit. She dropped to the floor and lay still, while blood pooled around her head.

The water screen shimmered and went down. The water sprayed across the floor, instead of being deflected back into the shower unit. It ran out the door and into the sleeping quarters. Slowly it trickled to the main door and started seeping under it and into the main hallway.


"Coming in now, Sir. Compartments three-sixteen and three-seventeen ripped open. Hull breach in boat bay one. We have had an explosion in boat bay one. Ten crewmen were assigned to compartments three-sixteen and three-seventeen, not sure how many in the boat bay."

"Thank you, Commander Verik order repair crews out and see to the wounded. Dispatch search and rescue to all damaged compartments. I want every part of the ship checked incase someone is injured and cannot report in." Wincing in pain, he continued as he tried sit down, "Also I need a med tech. up here. It seems I have broken something in my shoulder." Steven took a deep breath and slowly sat back down in his command chair, so he doesn't jar his shoulder, and continued, "Lieutenant Barlow, scan those ships what are they?"

"Right away, Sir," Within minutes the information is scrolling across several screens, "Sir three are liners, one is a freighter, and the other looked like a Belfast class escort destroyer."

Steven looked up at the screen, and replied, "Belfast class, that class of ship was retired ten years ago. I know some were sold to other navies but most were scrapped. Helmsman all stop. Please notify all ships to come to a complete stop."

"Aye, aye, Sir," replied the helmsman and the communications officer. As the orders go out and the ships came to a dead stop, a med tech came on the bridge and started tending to Stevens shoulder. On the screen, the freighter continued to spin away from the Swiftshire. The ship slowly turned around, which revealed the huge hole in its portside.

"Sir, helm is answering all stop."

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