Eric Olafson, First Journeys (Vol 2)
Copyright© 2018 by Vanessa Ravencroft
Chapter 8: Command Seat
The attack came totally unexpectedly.
The scanner operator of the American Dream was watching GalNews about the space battle between Dai, Nogoll, and Union forces like everyone else on the bridge and thus missed the fast-approaching contact.
I was still sitting in the Command chair, while the main viewer showed high-definition recordings of the space battle of Union Fleet against the Dai and the Nogoll.
Titanic fists shocked the yacht so violently that Calia Lethra, Alex, and everyone else standing before the main screen watching the news were thrown about. Smoke filled the bridge, and a dozen warning sirens and signals blared. Lights flickered. The automatic restraints had grabbed me, and a force field bubble encased the command seat and me. To my shock, I noticed a rupture in the hull. One of the bridge crewmen was sucked out before an emergency field sealed the crack. There were only two officers still moving as they too had remained in their seats and kept safe behind force field bubbles; the rest were piled up near the now-sealed crack, among them the Togar captain and Alex; none of them showed any signs of life. The main screen now showed a red spaceship pursuing us. The Helm officer moaned with a whiny voice. “What are we going to do?”
I responded, “We need breathing space to sort it out, get this tub going as fast as you can.”
“Yes, I will do that.”
None of the controls of the seat responded, and a Computronic voice said, “You are not registered or authorized. Alex stumbled to his feet, frozen blood across his face. “System recognizes Alex Enroe. I give full command authority to Eric Olafson.” Then he collapsed again.
The controls lit up, and a bank of screens lowered around me. “Command authority granted.”
“Activate all available shields, reroute spare energy to aft shield generators.”
“Acknowledged.”
The Helm Officer turned. “We are gaining ground, Sir, but we have only one ISAH pod left. It seems we are still faster than that Dai Battle Ship.”
“Don’t turn around. Keep your eyes on the controls when you talk.”
I looked down to find the right contact for ship-wide. “This is Eric Olafson, temporary in command of this vessel. All Departments report: Damage and status. Medical emergency on the bridge.”
“Engineering here. We have still full power but only one ISAH pod. We lost the other three. Several hull breaches, sealed with nanite foam and force fields. Main generators at 100 percent and not damaged. Primary shields gone. Secondary shields holding.”
“Engineering shut down every nonessential system. Concentrate on repairing the shield generators.”
“We do our best.”
“Medical reporting. We have 67 casualties, 19 reported fatal.”
“Triage and prioritize. Bridge crew first.”
“We send medics and bots.”
“Tactical, do we have tactical? Communications?”
There was no response, and then the Computronic replied, “Tactical and Communication stations are not replying.”
“Computronic, open all Communication channels on all available com equipment.”
“Open.”
“This is the ‘American Spirit’, Enroe Industries’ private yacht. Eric Olafson speaking. We are under attack. Dai Than battleship in pursuit. We are damaged, and there are heavy casualties. Need assistance urgently.”
I then told the Helm Officer to transmit our coordinates and whereabouts.
“We are being hailed.” The Computronic reported.
“Put it on.”
“Hello, American Spirit. I am Ima Win-Do, patriarch of the once glorious Dai Than Ima Tribe. I have lost my honor and my tribe. Our Mother has been destroyed by your demon warrior. Now I will seek revenge, and I will cause mayhem and destruction. I see you are but a boy; your officers are dead or gone. Surrender, and I shall be merciful. Your hail for help will be heard. I have no doubt, but all help will come too late for you. Surrender, and I shall not launch fighters. I will kill you all quickly and painlessly. Deny me, and I shall board and skin you alive.”
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