Chapter 19

Pain flared across Captain Bank's face. "Argh."

Bank's cries reverberated off the ceiling, but with determined willpower he reached out to me. His hand clutched the front of my shirt.

"Where is the medical team?" I snapped, fighting my rising impatience.

"Listen to me, no matter what Price says don't trust him," the Captain said, fighting to form each word.

"We won't," Yeoman Richard Rogers answered, leaning into the struggling captain.

"Fight the ship," Bank's added, struggling more with his words. "He told me ... he told me, they want the ship and the crew. It'll be slavery and worse. He wants Harper Wood, he wants the Winslow sisters, he wants you, Solon."

"Three noble houses," Private Nehring interjected, taking a knee next to the Captain. "Wood's from the imperial family too. No offense, Solon, but that is big shit."

The Captain lost his grip on my shirt but not his ability to speak. "Solon, he's fixated on your source of the water, the Fountain of Youth."

"There is no magical water. He is a moron," I snapped.

Yeoman Rogers smiled at me, as if to say "I believe you."

"Your father has cracked cryogenic****freezing, right?" Nehring asked. "They say he is a brain about genetics and things."

I didn't want to lie to Nehring, so I let his question hang in the air. A rush of activity ensued when the familiar faces of the emergency response team ran, a doctor and two medical techs.

"The Captain has that discoloration of skin on his neck," Yeoman Rogers explained to the doctor.

The middle-aged doctor waved his medical scanner around the Captain's neck and torso, and then poked and prodded his stomach area. A third medic guided the medical anti-gravity cart into the room.

"Degenerative conditions are starting to take effect," the doctor announced to the tech moving the cart. "He is in a much earlier stage than the others."

"He was injected just a few minutes ago," I explained.

Ensign Rice ran into the room. "The Captain's Gig just launched! What is going on?"

"That will be Price and Boorman," I announced.

Rogers and Nehring understood the implications, but the medical staff either ignored the comments or didn't understand what was going on. The doctor and the medics lifted the Captain up. Bank's facial muscles looked frozen. Rice darted back to his station.

"I need to make an official statement, it must be said for the record," Captain Bank stuttered.

The medical responders placed the Captain on the cart. Nehring detached his PDA and put it up to Bank's lips.

"Miley, remove Commander Price and Lt. Boorman from the ship's chain-of-command," the Captain slurred, having more difficulty talking.

"Acknowledged, task completed, command codes removed." Miley's voice said from Nehring's PDA speaker.

The Captain gurgled a laugh. "He won't see that coming ... thought he took care of me."

"Let's get going," the doctor instructed the medics. "He is losing more muscle control."

The console desk and conference table's placement slowed the cart's progress toward the door. The medics exited ahead of the cart. Nehring squeezed himself beside the cart. Rogers, the doctor and I followed behind. The pulsing red lights and klaxons made the moment feel ominous.

Once we were on the Bridge. Miley's voice came from all the console speakers.

"The medical scanner's data divulges the drug cocktail is slower acting on Captain Bank because of his genetic heritage," Miley stated, "further motor impairment and other degenerative conditions will occur as more of the drug crosses the blood-brain barrier. He needs a healing bed immediately to counter the effects, while his enhanced genes slow the absorption rate, this particular toxin will cause multiple organ failure in his kind."

"That's privileged information," the doctor snapped.

"Not at all doctor, this is a command issue," Miley responded.

The doctor didn't seem to agree, but shut up, waving his hands for the medic to move the cart faster. The Captain tried to talk, but nothing came out.

"What happened?" Abhati asked from the sensor station.

"Captain Bank's has been injected with a disabling neuro-toxin by Commander Price," Yeoman Rogers said.

"This isn't happening," Ensign Rice said from his navigation station.

Everyone pretended not to hear Rice.

The cart and the medical responders left the Bridge. Yeoman Rogers put a hand on Private Nehring's shoulder, stopping him from following. Entering the Bridge, an unapologetic crewman bounced off Nehring's shoulder and quick-timed it to the weapons station. Once in his seat, he cleared his dry throat and offered a fatigued introduction.

"Gunner's Mate Morgan, reporting for tactical officer duty."

"No Weapons Officer?" Rice asked.

"All tactical officers are unfit for duty and are in isolation in Main Medical," Miley announced."

Yeoman Wood entered the Bridge and spoke in a clipped, sharp voice. "Helms duty?"

Not thinking, I pointed at Lt. Boorman's former station. Wood's expression was guarded, making it difficult for me to tell what occupied her thoughts; she wore a pair of laser pistols strapped to her thighs and a golden, chest-plated piece of combat armor. She quickly found her seat and logged in. The Gunner's Mate became as diligent as Harper Wood and also logged into his station. Rogers was talking with Nehring in hushed terms by the Bridge's entrance.

I realized I had to deal with dozens of angry departments, duty-officers wanting to know what was going on. I darted to my station. I promptly responded to them all with a short, recorded message; confirming the alert, clarifying it was not a drill, and notifying them that the Captain was being taken to medical.

No sooner had I hit the send key when an armored security man entered the Bridge with his faceplate up. "My duty officer wants to know what the hell is going on. His quote, not mine. No one on the Bridge is answering his inquiry."

"I see your concern," Yeoman Rogers said, intercepting the man. "The Bridge is still organizing since the assassination attempt on the Captain's life."

Rogers and Nehring took the armored man aside to explain things. Yeoman Wood turned to me with a face, expecting action or anticipating a comment, I wasn't sure which. Rice looked at me and Wood, twisting his head back and forth between us like an out-of-control swing.

Abhati started to stare at me too, prompting me to act. "Miley, what senior officers do we have left on-board that aren't incapacitated? And what is their professional specialty?"

"Commander Celeste Cina, medical department administrative head, the ship's counselor, acupuncturist," Miley answered. "She is the only available senior officer; however, there are other ranking medical doctors too."

"An acupuncturist is perfect," Rice interjected. "Yes, send her right up to run a 3,000 foot, light cruiser."

"Hold your tongue, Rice," Abhati snapped.

"Surely, we have a command trained officer, a lieutenant?" Gunner's Mate Morgan asked.

"No other officers above the rank of ensign are available on the Entous. On Winterfall there are four lieutenants and two sub-lieutenants with command experience," Miley explained. "Also, if Captain Bank was conscious, and if he so chooses, he has the authority to name Kate Winslow as acting captain of this ship. She left the Fleet with the rank of Captain; even though she is a civilian, in times of war, rebellion or critical need, she can be reactivated for temporary duty by a Commodore or Admiral. Of course, Captain Bank's Reserve Fleet rank is Commodore. A Reserve Fleet ship under attack is considered in critical need, and Captain Bank's Reserve Fleet rank is assumed."

"Price has separated the ship from its experienced officers," Yeoman Rogers blurted out. "That was his plan with the shuttles going to Winterfall."

"Harper, you were a ship's captain." I pointed out. "A military ship's captain."

Before she could answer, Miley said, "Imperial regulations forbid any member of the Yeoman Society to take command of a Fleet flagged starship. Yeoman Harper Wood is not in the ship's chain of command."

"We're not Fleet!" Rice shouted angrily, "We are owned by the Empire Space Corporation. ESC Entous, get it. We just need a Bridge trained officer..."

"Article Seven of the Empire Space Corporation's incorporation document, approved by the office of the Imperial Corporation Registry, governs this situation. All operational, exploration class ships abide by Fleet codes of conduct, being considered a Reserve Fleet asset," Miley stated with crisp clarity. "In times of war, conflict or at the will of the Imperial Fleet Command, this warship class vessel can be called upon to serve the Empire. The penalty for noncompliance to this operating directive include ship seizure, corporate and personal fines, imprisonment of personnel, loss of corporate charter, loss of license, disbarment..."

"That is enough, Miley, that was most informative," Yeoman Rogers said. "It is important to know who is in command and it certainly will not be a yeoman."

Surprisingly, Miley didn't terminate the conversation. "Ensign Rice is partly correct, if a trained Bridge officer is available he or she is ranking officer in command of the Entous."

Yeoman Wood stood and smiled, crossing her arms with a "I could of told you that look."

The security man next to Rogers just shook his head, refusing to remove the scowl on his face. "This is messed up. Why can't a Yeoman command? Yeoman Wood has lots of experience, she is famous."

"The Empire in its wisdom doesn't want famous, heroic, influential, yeoman to command warships. It makes the noble class nervous," Yeoman Rogers quipped. "The Society has other functions within the Empire that would conflict with access to military commands, and it possibly could destabilize our political structure."

"Stop it Richard, we don't have time to give political lessons," Wood said. "Miley, at this time, who is the ranking officer that you recognize?"

"Ensign Von Solon Wolfenstein, he has the longest time in rank among the remaining Bridge trained personnel," Miley answered. Her tone sounded almost smug to me.

"There you have it from the legal arbitrator of this ship, thank you Miley," Yeoman Wood said, "Captain Solon what are your orders?"

Rogers laughed, nodding tentatively at me.

I put my headset down, understanding this was for the best. "Miley, summon a communications specialist as a replacement for my former assignment."

"Acknowledged, Captain."

"Second, we need to get that damn shuttle full of officers back here to make my command experience short," I stated.

"You have what you need my good man," Rogers said to the security man. "Go report back to your duty officer. The Bridge crew has answered your question, we have a new captain."