The red overhead lights glared against the deck carpet, and then quickly started to flicker unpredictably, gradually darkening to a faint glow. Odyssey's hurt, bad, Aaen reasoned. He looked over his right shoulder through the center of the bridge at the Engineering compartment with a look on his face that he noticed in his left peripheral made Communications nervous, even fearful. She looked at Aaen, wide-eyed, and then looked at the rest of the bridge. Aaen wasn't angry at the Engineer. . . . Aaen looked at the Captain, whose back was to the forward bridge, and then Aaen looked up and right at Operations, who was looking at her computer screen with a deeply concerned look on her face at the readings apparently just coming from the main computer—and then she looked back at Aaen, and then the Captain.
"What's the damage report?" the Captain asked as he rushed to the Operations station, climbing the ventilation up step leading to the Engineering compartment to see the readings for himself as Operations pointed out the information on her screen, alternating looking at her screen and the Captain while explaining technical details. The Captain looked stressed, fearful, and then almost furious, "Oh, crap." he said as he returned to his seat, turning face the front of the bridge. "Aaen, are the engines still working?" he asked directly.
Aaen was tempted to roll his eyes but chose not to. He turned in his seat to read his screen, pulling up the applicable information, and then scanning the information before answering. "Warp engines are offline. With current power in the impulse engines and thrusters, there's enough power for one-quarter impulse—but that'll only last for about five minutes with the current engine damage." he pulled up the thrusters control screen before reporting. "Thrusters are still online." Aaen knew the ship's smallest engines would only truly excel at getting the ship around obstacles and hazards—they would hardly be effective at doing the impulse engines' job, even for a ship this small, compared to their apparent opponent.
"What's wrong with the main viewscreen?"
Aaen looked up and right at the black trapezoid surface covering the 24-inch glass square full of black and grey static. "Imaging sensors must be offline," Aaen responded casually.
"Demitri, can you get the imaging sensors back online?" the Captain asked.
"Virking on it, Keptin! It's a bit of a miss dewn 'ere!" the heavy-Russian accent filled the bridge.
"Are we getting anything on sensors, yet?" the First Officer asked.
"Just mostly static, sir, and still intermittent. We might as well be sitting right in the middle of a dense radiation pocket in some nebula, right now, First Officer."
"Very well."
We've been out of space dock for almost ten minutes, Aaen thought. The main viewscreen started to clear to blackness. The bridge lights calmed but barely stayed on.
The Captain sharply stood from his chair, turning around, and then forward. "Good! Thank you, Dimitri!" the Captain's voice deepened.
"Yis, sir!
"Where are the stars? Navigation is offline; we're flying on manual right now." Aaen said.
"Captain!" the Engineer yelled through the compartment's entrance crawlway.
The Captain turned around. "What?" the Captain replied sharply.
"I just got the damage report from Operations. What system do you want me to start repairing?"
Now came an opportunity to demonstrate one's ability to establish priority, Aaen thought, there's another ship out there, apparently Federation in design and armament, but we have no idea who or what is operating that ship, or what their intentions are—or if they're still out there, right now. We are completely out-matched. "Jason, what's the status of the shields?"
He turned his head before replying, "Pretty much gone, right now. Forward shields are holding at fifteen percent. The others are barely even registering."
Aaen turned in his seat to look at the Captain. Run?—Fight?—Or hide, Captain? Aaen sternly thought at the Captain. The Captain looked stressed and frustrated, alternating his attention between the main viewscreen and the Engineering compartment. Aaen repeated his thought, acknowledging the possibility that they could be pulverized at any moment because the next course of action was slow-coming, making Odyssey a proverbial sitting duck.
"Anything on sensors, yet?" the First Officer asked.
"Nothing yet, sir."
"We're blind; we're motionless and apparently defenseless. There's really only one thing we can do." Aaen muttered.
"What?" Communications asked, squinting at Aaen, confused by his statement.
"We can't see anything if it's not on the main viewscreen, we have no shields—"
"No weapons, either. At least not torpedoes." Jason said.
"What about cannons?" the Captain asked.
"They're barely online." Operations responded.
"Yeah, I can't guarantee I'll be able to protect us, much less for very long if they start shooting at us again. This ship is really beat up right now."
"Okay. . .so. . ." the Captain sounded hesitant and indecisive.
"What about the stealth system?" Aaen asked.
"That's gone, too," Jason said disappointingly. Aaen dropped his head.
"Yeah, that torpedo nearly turned us into the fourth of July!" said the Engineer.
"If we hadn't diverted power to the forward shields to reinforce them when we did—"
"Quiet, Aaen." the Captain snapped.
"He's right, Captain." said the First Officer. The Captain looked at the First Officer with a surprised look.
"Frankly, I'm surprised the shockwave didn't tear us apart, even if there wasn't a direct hull impact," Jason said.
"Yeah." the First Officer authoritatively agreed.
"With forward shields down to fifteen percent—" Jason gasped. "We're lucky the ship is in one piece right now."
"Okay, that much is obvious." the Captain said. "Is anything coming up on Sensors, yet?"
"No. Not yet."
"Engineer! Fix the Sensors!"
"Yes, Captain!"
Not a bad idea, Aaen thought, raising his eyebrows slightly for a second. "Captain, the main viewscreen is starting to clear!"
"Finally!"
*****
Steve H. told Jordan Foutin, "You are the next Tom Clancy. You really are a gifted writer."
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