Fragments Gallery
Lifeboat
"They're still thirty thousand clicks out Sir!"
Captain Altran's knuckles tightened around the titanium railing before him as he watched the small dots racing around on the scene before him. A transport vessel was represented by a purple blip on the screen. Surrounding it were dozens of smaller red blips which orbited around it in erratic ovals. Those were drone attack vessels.
His own ship, the Storm Hunter, could easily eliminate those ships. But he was just too far out. By the time they got there the vessel would have long since been destroyed and those vultures would have vanished.
"How're their shields doing?" he asked one of the officers sitting near him on the bridge.
"They just hit quarter strength Sir!" she replied, "The drones are inflicting heavy damage on the ship and she won't be able to keep it up much longer. There are just too many of them, her shields were not meant to withstand that kind of punishment for so long."
"Blood," swore the captain, "Can we make another jump?"
"No sir," came the response from a different nearby officer, "Hyper drives would overshoot and the warp jump still needs to recharge."
"Do they know we're coming?"
"No sir," replied an officer from the sensors station, "That is the drones don't, the transport will have detected us but they'll know by now that we can't jump closer."
Altran's fingers drummed against the railing which he clung to.
"How many?" he asked his voice low and steady.
"Sir?"
"How many people are on that vessel?"
A sergeant began to tap furiously on the console before him. Altran watched him work. His expression was passive, but inwardly he was anxiously awaiting the sergeant’s next words. A small part of his mind sought refuge from the overwhelming fear he felt by nostalgically examining the new technology which the other man tapped away on.
Many years ago he himself had occupied that sergeant's seat, but that had been before the newer consoles had been developed and had subsequently replaced the keyboard which had been used since the inception of the old world computer. These newer devices were more efficient, but part of him still missed the solid feeling of a full keyboa-
"There are approximately six hundred people on that shuttle sir."
"Isn't that over the capacity of a vessel of that class?"
"Yes sir, over by about twenty percent."
That's great, he thought bitterly as he watched the drones swirl around the vessel on the screen.
"Transport ship shields at fifteen percent," reported the officer monitoring the sensors.
"Let me know the moment we can jump again."
"Yes sir!"
His fingers drummed against the cold railing. They were so close but helpless to do anything. They just had to make it a little closer.
"Transport shields at five percent sir!"
"How far are they now?" He asked the sensors officer.
"Twenty three thousand clicks sir," she responded.
Twenty three thousand clicks. Even at the Storm Hunter's top speed it would still take fifteen minutes to traverse that distance. At four thousand they were entering weapons range but by the time they got there it would be too late.
"Sir!" the navigations officer cried out, "We're ready to make another jump,"
"They've lost shields," said the officer from sensors, "Their hull is taking damage."
"Get us over there!" Altran roared, "Shift power from our sub lights, get our weapons online and get those shields up to full capacity."
There was a flurry of motion as his crew made the necessary adjustments to prepare for the jump. On the screens he watched the purple dot. They only had to hold on for a little longer.
"Sir, sensors are picking up increased heat in several areas along the hull of the transport," the sensors officer reported, "They could be venting atmosphere through a hull breach and I believe there are fires inside."
"Understood," growled the captain, "Kepler get us over there."
"Yes sir," Kepler replied, "Jumping in: three, two, one and here we go."
Space stretched and then compressed before them as they jumped; one moment they were distant, the next they were within visible range of the transport vessel.
The transport had disappeared into a cloud of smoke and fire. The drones had already scattered, having abandoned their quarry for dead.
"Are there life signs on the vessel?"
"I can't tell sir, the heat from the fire is interfering with our sensors."
A shape blossomed from the smoke encasing the ship. It was a lifeboat, an escape vessel.
A lifeboat had made it out. A wave of relief washed over the captain. They may not have been able to save them all, but at least they could save a few.
“Move in,” he ordered, “Prepare the docking bays for survivor entry and alert the med stations that we may have wounded incoming. And… get me a head count.”
“Yes sir,” responded several nearby officers almost simultaneously.
He dreaded to hear that final number but they were going to save a few. He hoped that would be enough to ease his conscience. There was nothing he could have done to get there any quicker but he knew that he would still blame himself. He always did.