Excerpt

G.E.C. 5062 / N.C. 10765

Van-Weldon shook his head to clear his vision and wished he hadnt. Pain lanced through his head like a knife. Both his eyes were blurred and stinging. Remembering the searing flash from the view screen, his hand went to his eyes and came away wet. For a moment he thought he had been blinded. He wiped away the wetness with the sleeve of his tunic, feeling the sticky dampness smear across his face. He knew it by the smell. It was blood, probably from his own head, he thought from the way it hurt, but at least he could see now, blurry as it was. The din of voices increased as his hearing returned; some calm, some shouting, some moaning The air was filled with smoke with the acrid odor of burned wiring and plastic. He was flat on his back, lying under a console against the forward bridge bulkhead. He scooted out and sat up, his head spinning, looked around, trying to remember how he had gotten there. His chest ached and pain shot through it when he touched it. Then he remembered his crash harness tearing. There were two consoles and the helm control station between him and his chair. Must have been quite a flight, he mused. He hoped he hadnt hit the helmsman on his way to here.

Then some one took his arm and squatted down by him. It was the helmsman, Marc Hispania. Good, I didnt hit him. You okay, Captain? He was looking at the cut on Van-Weldons head.

Im fine Lieutenant, he grunted leaning forward. Just give me an arm up. The young man helped him to his feet. He took a staggered step and dizziness swept over him. Get me to my chair.

He threw himself back into the command chair of the battleship, G.E.S. Dominator. A monstrous explosion had tossed the three hundred thousand ton ship end over end it seemed. We must have struck the Mantisoids singularity drive to cause such a blast. Inertial dampeners and artificial gravity units were back on line and the ship had leveled off at galactic plane, the bridge at galactic north.

He watched his first officer directing order back to the bridge. Crewmen were putting out fires in the consoles and others were tending to wounds. The lift doors were opening and shutting as everyone went about the business of getting things back in ship shape. Damn, he was proud of his crew!

Van-Royce approached from behind his chair and he flinched away as the first officer touched his head.

Be still, Zach, he growled. Let me clean some of the blood off your face before you scare all the little kiddies.

No one else on the bridge would have taken such liberties with the captain as the first officer did. Van-Weldon submitted reluctantly to Van-Royces ministrations. The officer stepped around to face him, wiping away the blood with a damp cloth.

Bleeding has stopped and the wound is closing. Thank your breeding for that. It wouldnt be the first time I did. Then the officer smiled. Also, lucky you landed on your head. Could have been a lot worse. You should see the dent you put in the duranium bulkhead.

Van-Weldon managed to focus on Van-Royces face. Can mommy make the headache go away, too? he said mockingly with a crooked smile to his friend.

Nope. For that youll have to see the good doctor or one of his cute nurses. Van-Royce laughed. We both need to get back to work. Your orders, sir.

I need a damage report, he shouted.

Aye, Captain, standby. Reports still coming in, answered Antoinet Taylor, the damage control officer at her console.

Weapons Officer What of the enemy vessels?

There was a hesitation, then a stuttering reply. Sir, it is gone from my targeting scopes, replied the weapons officer, Rudolf Gonsmart, a stocky, broad shouldered, dark complexioned man with intense brown eyes.

Then the last salvo of torpedoes got them! said the captain, a trace of triumph in his voice

And their last salvo got us as well, Captain. It was the damage control officer, Taylor. We temporarily lost fusion drive, but its back on line. There is extreme damage to the navigation computer. Door breaches in the hangar bay. Its sealed off with a containment field for now. Repairs going on there right now. Seventy-three fighter and ship repair crewmen are dead or missingblown out the breach or into the wreckage. Two hundred-twenty-five Marines killed in the B barracks section when the outer hull was penetrated. The blast struck the seal-pack and destroyed it before it could deploy. The atmosphere vented too fast for them to get out. There are casualties coming into sickbay with broken bones, concussions, and cuts from the tumble we took. We have lost all external cameras, but we still have radar sensors and radio communications.

How about weapons?

Sir, the weapons officer answered . We still have laser and disrupter cannons, and the torpedo tubes are activeexcept we have no more torpedoes.

Why havent they hit us? he thought. Shields. Do we have shields?

Shield generators were the first things knocked out, said Antoinet. It will take time to estimate the damage.

What the hell are they waiting for? How soon can we get navigation back on line?

Van-Leigh, the navigation officer answered. Were going to have to start from scratch, Captain. The power cells took a direct hit and the back surge melted part of the memory core. Were looking at a couple of months to rebuild and reprogramif we have the spare parts. If we can get to a base we can just replace the whole module.

Whats going on out there? Get someone started on it now. I need the external viewers back on line. I need to see whats going on out there. As soon as you get the doors to the hanger bay repaired, lets get the fighters in. Are there any of them left?

Engineering to bridge. Captain! came a desperate voice over the intercom.

This is the captain. Go ahead, Chief Thomas.

Sir, were going to have to dump the over-drive core. The casing has hairline cracks and its starting to emit gamma radiation. Its a matter of minutes before it contaminates engineering or blows.