Chapter 78: Limping Home

The intensity of the conflict was stunning considering that the time from when the Sa’arm ship emerged until the final hit on Corsica took less than ninety seconds meant that everyone crashed the instant we jumped.

I managed to remain in my seat, but had to put my elbows on my knees as I desperately fought to keep my hands from shaking. Terrence seemed to ooze towards the floor as his body collapsed.

Ensign White was leaning forward with her shoulders and chest in contact with her station. “Can we not do that next time,” she whispered.

“We won,” I said quietly.

“If that’s a win, I’d almost rather lose,” Terrence said. “What’s happening to me?”

“Preliminary indications are that Private Terrence Ripa is suffering from a withdrawal of adrenaline from his system,” the AI said.

“What?” Terrence asked.

“Your body is coming out of fight mode,” I said. “In order to prepare for the conflict special chemicals were released into your bloodstream. Now that we aren’t fighting, your body is removing the chemicals. Unfortunately, there are side-effects.”

“Captain,” I heard over the intercom. “Most of my people are collapsed at their stations.”

“Same here, and I expect the missile rooms are no better,” I said. “Fortunately, we have entered jump and won’t emerge for...”

“Thirty-nine hours,” Terrence said softly. “I’m afraid I jumped straight at Crucibleat though.”

“We’ll survive,” I said. “Right now I need a full damage report as well as an injury report. Blaine, did you get Private Morgan into the medical pod?”

“I just placed him in there. I still have to help Kirk carry Ensign Munfree to her bunk. She does look a little bit better after only a minute or two in the pod,” Blaine responded over the intercom.

“Hopefully she’ll get the rest she needs,” I said quietly. “Ensign Daniels, what about the hole in the hull? We can’t use the stern medical pod until its patched.”

“The patch is already in place, but rather than pressurize the passageway, my men are having the repair drones handle some additional repairs,” Ensign Daniels said.

“Remember, it’s your crewman who needs the pod. Doesn’t Lance Corporal Boddicker have a broken collarbone?” I asked.

“Michael has his lying down and resting comfortably,” Ensign Daniels said. “Do you think we can borrow a couple of concubines to help move him once the passage is repressurized?”

“I believe that is possible,” I said. “Check with Ingrid to see if she’ll spare Victor.”

Ensign White lazily raised her right hand. She put her thumb up for just a moment before her arm flopped back down at her side.

“You have too much energy,” Terrence complained.

“Someone has to get things done,” I replied.

“And you wonder why everyone respects you,” Ensign White mumbled. “I can’t even move, and you’re already trying to get things done.”

“Just the planning. There isn’t much that can be done for now,” I said. “No one is really ready to move. It’s clear the drills didn’t completely prepare us for the intensity of the combat we were just in.”

“We won,” Ensign White said. “And no one died. I’ll take that.”

“It counts for now, but next time we might not get lucky. If the Sa’arm ship had remained hidden until we were ready to take on the scout, we might have ended up caught in the web the Sa’arm had set up,” I said.

“How?” Terrence muttered.

“What?” I asked.

“How did they know to set up that trap?” he asked.

“I don’t think they knew. Remember the one ship was right in the middle of that electro-magnetic field. I expect the primary mission of that ship was to harvest whatever was creating the field. They’d take that and use it for building new ships back on the planet,” I said. “But as part of the harvesting, it has those two projectors that could launch bundles of energy.”

“How powerful were those?” Terrence asked. “And you realize that at the ranges we fought, I couldn’t have dodged a shot that was well aimed.”

“The one that hit us punched through our armor and several feet of bulkheads and equipment,” I said. “I get a feeling it could have punched through to any battle station.”

“The power of the energy packet was equivalent to a mid-range particle disruptor,” the AI said. “A similar weapon has been tested and found capable of shattering up to forty-five centimeters of high-density armor plate.”

“And obviously several feet of low density equipment,” I mused.

“No test of that nature has been performed,” the AI responded.

Terrence and Kelsey both laughed. They remained slumped over their stations as Corsica once again raced away from the Sa’arm infested system the Confederacy called Gee One Dash Six Five Nine.

The post-battle recovery turned out to be slow. The remote repair drones managed to repair the hull to Ensign Daniels grudging satisfaction after just one hour, but he was very unhappy with the nature of the patch and insisted that Corsica needed to have additional work done once we reached Crucibleat and could have the repair docks examine the area.

We did find that several control runs to the port side rail gun as well as missiles two and four had been cut when we were hit. The replicators and repair drones replaced what they could, but we ran out of material and missile four remained cut off from all sensor and tracking data. Private Swift was upset by this and spent several hours in the galley talking to Ensign White about creating a wireless link for the missile batteries.

Ensign Munfree spent the journey in her bunk. Ensign Daniels, Ensign White and I were running four hours of being the officer on the deck followed by eight hours of rest as the ship made its way through hyperspace. I could see the pressure wearing on both ensigns. Without their knowledge I wrote up a request for at least five days leave for everyone and added it to the message queue to be sent the instant we emerged at Crucibleat.

Private Morgan recovered, but was very shaky walking, even after thirteen hours in the medical pod. Boddicker had been in and out of the stern pod long before Anders would be released and had fully recovered. Both expressed an interest in getting back to work and striking back at the Sa’arm.

I ended up trying to speak with everyone on the crew during the shifts I was in command. Terrence was the man on the helm and he wearily nodded when I got up to leave the bridge. I knew he still wondered if he could have dodged the second attack or if he could have somehow adjusted the thrust to prevent the injuries Boddicker and Morgan had suffered. I tried to cheer him up, but it quickly became clear that he needed some time in the arms of his concubines.

Private Swift proved to be the most shocked out of the crew. He had rushed to his mates pod as soon as I released everyone from their battle stations and held vigil whenever he could. The conversation we had as he watched the pod was enlightening and saddening. The man clearly had thought that serving in the Confederacy military would be a game. The injury to his friend and the fact that Corsica was nearly destroyed had shattered his feeble dreams. I just hoped that he would return with a new focus on performing his duty.

All of this information and more found its way into the voluminous report I compiled, not just of the action, but of my observations of the aftermath and the effects on the crew. It was my way of trying to process just how close we had all come to death.

I believe it was a relief to everyone when Private Morrison announced that we would emerge in the Crucibleat system in fifteen minutes. I had been sitting at my desk watching a video that Erica and Angelique had sent early in the patrol when the call went out.

“Fifteen minutes until emergence,” Private Morrison called.

“Captain?” I heard Ensign White ask. “Orders?”

“I know it’s supposed to be a friendly system, but everyone to their posts. I’ll be on the bridge in three,” I called out.

Ensign Daniels had complained that for non-emergencies the klaxon for general quarters was too harsh. He asked me for permission to change it after we entered the jump. I had agreed, but failed to ask what he would change it to. I was shocked when the tune Yakety Sax began to play over the intercom.

“Everyone to their posts,” Ensign White said merrily. I could hear her trying to hold back laughter.

I stopped the video and stood up. There was a smile on my face as I walked to the door to my quarters prepared to make the short walk to the bridge.

Ensign Munfree was running down the passageway as I entered. “Can I go back to duty?” she asked me plaintively.

“You can, but I don’t want you passing out on me again. You have to take care of yourself. Make sure you get enough food and sleep,” I said as the door to the bridge opened.

Ensign Munfree frowned. I had a hunch she wanted to argue with me, but she held her tongue as we headed to our stations.

“What is that tune?” Private Morrison asked when I sat down.

Kelsey just giggled louder. “I didn’t know Ensign Daniels had a sense of humor.”

“Good one too,” I mused. I turned on my displays and could see that the countdown was just under thirteen minutes.

“Engine room?” I asked.

“This is Lance Corporal Moore,” was the quick response. “How can I help you Captain?”

“I doubt we’ll need it, but is the secondary jump drive operational?” I asked.

“We’re missing several of the charging cables due to the damage to the hull, but we can have enough power for a jump in twenty minutes,” Moore said.

“I don’t recommend it,” Lance Corporal Ambrose said. “The portside engine has been giving us some trouble since the hit. I really want to strip the housing between bulkheads six and nine and see if there is any warping of the compressor case.”

“Make sure your complaint is logged,” I said. “And why haven’t you reported this before?”

“He did,” Ensign Daniels said. “But I took a long look at the situation. I brought in Lance Corporal Truit and Private Walton. They agree that there is something wrong, but we’d have to take the engine completely offline in order to inspect the compressor case.”

“Which we can’t do during a jump,” I said. “Add it to the list of repairs we want. I just hope that they have obtained corrected blueprints so we don’t have additional problems once we get Corsica back from the dock.”

“You sound tired,” Ensign Daniels said.

“I expect that once I have guided Corsica into the repair dock, I’ll go home and sleep for twenty hours or so,” I said quietly. “I didn’t expect this to be all fun and games, but after today I’m definitely more than a bit worn down. At least I have my concubines waiting to cheer me back up.”

“Is that what you call it?” Ensign White said. Her tone was playful, but I could hear a serious undertone.

“It is what it is,” I said. “But I have to say that having someone to come home to helps a lot. I just am very glad I’m bringing everyone home.”

“Breakout in five,” Private Morrison said.

I looked down at the countdown and realized that the thirteen minutes had passed while I sat and worried. Private Morrison was alert though and guided the ship through the reentry into normal space.

As soon as the viewscreens stabilized to showing the blackness of space I began calling up the tracking displays. It took a couple seconds before an image of the nearby space became clear.

“This is definitely the Crucibleat system. It looks like we came out at the right spot to catch the shortest possible tangent to reach the planet,” I said.