Lochem turned to the commander display. "Tabitha, please open a comm channel so I can address the crew."
"Done," the AI replied. "The crew are ready for you."
"Crew, listen up," Lochem's voice echoed through the Tabitha, steady but carrying the weight of his first real command decision. "A short while ago, we lost track of the Christopher IV. We're going to wait a little while longer for them at the rendezvous. If we accelerate now and they are still on their way, we'll severely delay the evacuation effort, so we stay the course."
The crew didn't respond audibly, but some of them nodded their heads in agreement.
Lochem stepped forward to the command walkway, leaning over the railing to get a better view of the CIC displays below. His eyes scanned the scrolling data, searching for even a flicker of a hint or clue about Christopher's whereabouts.
"Increase our scan range," Lochem ordered. "Look for any engine or heat signatures. Look for anything out of the ordinary."
"Yes, sir," the sensor officer replied. A moment of silence passed, punctuated only by the rhythmic chirping of the consoles. Then, the officer's voice spiked. "Sir? I'm picking up something on the scanners. Moving fast. Not sure what it is yet."
Lochem's posture stiffened. The Christopher wouldn't be moving fast. "UIC or unsigned?"
"Neither. It seems– Sir! It's projectiles, heading straight for us!"
Tabitha's voice chimed in, urgent and alert. "Possibly meteorites?"
"Evasive manoeuvres!" Lochem roared. "Get us clear and out of the way!"
"There won't be enough time!" the helmsman shouted, his hands flying across the controls. "Scans show it's not meteorites... Sir, it's debris! It seems to be– It's debris from the Christopher IV!"
The blood drained from Lochem's face. "Push all reserve power into our dynamic armour! Fire the RCS thrusters, turn the ship to reduce our surface profile and face them head-on!"
"Firing RCS! They're coming in too fast... we won't have time to complete the burn!"
Lochem stared at the navigation displays. The red icons of incoming shrapnel were overwhelming the screen. There was no manoeuvring out of this. The Tabitha was a long-range cruiser with extensive armour, but all it took was one ill-fated impact to decompress a whole outer section.
There was nothing Lochem could do.
"Brace!" Lochem screamed. "Brace for impact!"
The ship shook violently as the first of the larger pieces of debris slammed into the broadside of the ship. The sound was menacing, metal pelting against metal that echoed throughout the whole ship, only interrupted by the odd 'thunk' whenever a larger piece of scorched metal tore into the Tabitha's dynamic armour.
Throughout the ship, the overhead lights flickered and dimmed as the power grid struggled to maintain the charge of the dynamic armour. Smaller pieces of debris were instantly disintegrated whenever they pierced through the electified outer layer.
Chaos erupted on the bridge as reports started flooding in.
"Several fires across deck three and–!"
"Severe structural damage! Loss of atmosphere in the outer compartments across–!"
"Armour is compromised but holding! Bulkheads B73 through—"
"Reports of loss of life and serious injury! Dispatching emergency response personnel to–!"
Lochem stood hunched over the railing, his knuckles white as he gripped the cold steel. Each impact made him flinch, a physical reaction to the sound of the ship being assaulted. As acting captain, he was responsible for each and every crew member under his command.
The confidence Raymond had tried to instil in him felt a million miles away. He didn't want to be a captain anymore. He no longer wanted the evaluation. He just wanted the thundering of metal piercing metal to stop, but he couldn't. He had a duty and responsibility to continue. He had made the choice to wait, and now he had to face the consequences.
---
Meanwhile, in the Medical Bay...
"Don't stand there!" Dr Kiaria Amaya's voice cut through the sound of blaring medical alarms. "You're blocking the door! Bring them in and put them on the available beds so we can assess the damage!"
"Ma'am," an ensign stammered, carrying a limp body. "He's dead."
Kiaria's eyes flashed with a mix of fury and grief. "Well, then, why did you bring him here? I can't bring the dead back to life! Put him outside, in the corridor next to the sealed blast door with the rest of the bodies. Move, Ensign! Injured people are trying to get in here!"
She snorted angrily, turning back to the patient on the bed before her, her hands moving with frantic, clinical precision. The door hissed open again, and Mayvheen stumbled in, looking dishevelled and terrified.
"Dr Amaya!"
"I'm busy! What is it?!" Kiaria barked, then paused as she saw who it was. "Oh. It's you, Lieutenant."
"Where can I put Veera?"
Kiaria's face went pale. "Vee–? Over here! Quickly!"
Mayvheen and Kiaria hauled Veera onto one of the few remaining beds. She was heavy, but together, they managed.
"How bad is it?" Mayvheen asked, her voice trembling.
"I'm not sure," Kiaria muttered, immediately reaching for the scanner.
"We were together," Mayvheen said, the words spilling out in a rush. "Waiting for our debriefing when the attack happened."
"It wasn't an attack," Kiaria said, her eyes fixed on the vitals monitor.
"It wasn't? How do you—"
"Check your datapad, Lieutenant. A notification went out a minute ago. It was debris from the Christopher IV."
Mayvheen froze. "The Christopher? Debris? That means..."
"Yes," Kiaria said grimly. "There is nothing you or I can do for them. However, I might still be able to help Ensign Polyakov, so let's focus on that."
Kiaria's fingers glided over the touch controls, her eyes flitting back and forth across the holographic readouts. She adjusted Veera's position, biting her lip as a frown deepened on her forehead.
"Mmmm..."
"What is it?" Mayvheen pressed.
"There is something... strange showing up on her scans."
"Strange? That sounds ominous."
"I'm not sure yet," Kiaria said, her voice dropping. "I'll have to take a closer look once she's stabilised. But Alku'ahf... this is bad." She looked up at Mayvheen. "You said you were with her? How did you manage not to get hurt yourself?"
Mayvheen looked down at her hands. "Veera. She shoved me into the corridor when the first wave hit. She tackled me back just as the blast doors came down to protect the rest of the ship from depressurising. We would have been on the wrong side... I would be dead right now if she hadn't..."
"Well," Kiaria said, her tone softening just a fraction. "Then it's a good thing you were with each other. Looking at the extent of her injuries, I'm not sure she would be alive either if you hadn't dragged her in here."
Suddenly, a high-pitched medical alert began to whine from the bed.
"And she might yet still not make it," Kiaria snapped, her professional mask sliding back into place. "If you'll excuse me, Lieutenant."
"Of course," Mayvheen said, backing away toward the door. "I'll go see if there are more survivors I can bring in."
She took one last look at the bed. Dr Amaya was already lost in a flurry of activity, frantically working to stabilise the woman who had just saved Mayvheen's life.
You're going to be okay, Veera, Mayvheen thought, her hand lingering on the doorframe. You're a fighter. And I'm here for you...