The bridge was dark. Aaen gradually lifted himself upright in his chair as he eyed the stars on the main viewscreen. He felt a sudden sense of concern for the rest of the bridge crew, noticing the standard black-and-red error message on all of the right-wing identifying the computer stations being offline. But why? What the heck happened? His computer trio displayed the same message under the black plastic coverings. He looked to his right to see some of the computer screens were flashing. Why is the air getting colder? Has the Station sustained damage? Did the damage affect environmental control throughout the Station?
There was a heavy gasp to Aaen's left as though from someone who had taken a fall and landed hard. "Is everyone alright?. . . Is everyone okay?" It was the Admiral.
More computer stations throughout flashed without any particular pattern, Aaen noted. Oh my gosh! He reasoned the Station was badly damaged for the bridge to be dark and the computers behaving like they are. His mind raced with possibilities, but the lack of readings left him unsure about what was going on outside the bridge. Hang in there, Magellan! He eyed the stars subtly shifting on the main viewscreen. Is the Station rolling?. . . He thought anxiously, Something's happened to the Station, looking to his left and down toward the front of the bridge.
"Security? Aaen!" the captain called. Aaen scanned his computers and then looked to his left.
"I've got nothin' over here, captain! Right-wing's down!"
"Security!" the Admiral commanded.
"Nothing!"
"Chief of Operations?—Does anyone know what's happened?"
The bridge speakers began to crackle.
"Chief? Is that you?" Aaen asked.
"Chief!" the Admiral called.
"Uh. . .Yeah, 'er, Admiral! This is Chief Watson, I'm down 'ere in main engineering. Is everyone alright up there on the bridge?"
"Yes! We're alright! Are you okay?"
"Everyone's fine down 'ere as far as I can tell, Admiral. My team down 'ere's trying to get back to their duty stations so we can work on figuring out what just happened. Just a lotta bumps and bruises, mostly. We did have one crewmember hit the wall kinda hard when everything started stuttering like when we first went through the Vortex. Got the wind knocked outta 'im, but I think he'll pull through okay. It probably wouldn't hurt to send a medical team down here just to be safe."
"I'd be happy to do that, but we've got no computers working and only the main viewscreen, life support apparently, and the intercom online."
"You guys don't have any power up there?"
The bridge filled with loud, resounding 'no's'.
"Alright, I'll get on that and try to get you whatever power we can, Admiral. The main reactor isn't working at the moment, so it looks like we're running on auxiliary batteries for the time being."
"Chief Engineer Watson! How long can the Station run on auxiliary power?"
"Uh, who is this?"
Aaen stood and then replied, "This is Flight Control: Commander Aaen."
"Oh! Hey there, Commander. Yeah, the Station's got about a day's worth of auxiliary power in case of a massive power outage like this. We'll be alright, sir. Don't worry! We'll have main power back online soon!" Aaen noted Watson was trying to be reassuring. Aaen sat down, inched closer to his desk and then leaned on his elbows.
. . .The bridge lit up with blue, black and grey readings on the computer stations.
"Can you give us lights, Watson?" the Admiral asked.
"Workin' on that, Admiral. Things are really messed up down here! I've got my people working on restoring main power right now. It could be back online anytime now."
"Okay. Thank you."
"Thanks, Watson!"
"Yeah, no problem, bridge! Watson out." the line disconnected with a beep.
"Okay, we need to start damage control and begin repairing any damage to the Station," the Admiral continued with a series of orders intended to get the lights back online and restore main power, and then she looked at Aaen and approached him. "Where are we right now, Commander?"
Aaen was already working on figuring out the answer. He checked each of his computers quickly, focusing on the Station's navigational data, and then responded, "We're at our original coordinates before the Vortex pulled us in. We're not moving."
"Do we have any engines? Anything?"
Aaen scanned his computer screens and then turned his head. The lighting from the main viewscreen and the computer stations on the bridge was negligible at best, but Aaen didn't care. He turned his head as he answered, "The only power is on the stabilization thrusters. Maneuvering thrusters and translight are offline. We're not going anywhere until we have main power back online."
The Admiral gasped and then carefully returned to her chair. "I'm not getting any readings on my computer. How long until we have main power back online?" she asked aloud.
"Not sure, Admiral! I'm checking in with my damage control teams to see what, if any, damage to there was to the Station."
"Executive Officer, is the Vortex still open?"
"Scanning. . . Yes! It's still open!"
"We should probably close it so those aliens don't get into our space!"
"How?" the Captain asked.
"What about a direct cannon and torpedo barrage?" Aaen quipped.
"But we don't have weapons." said the Strategic Operations Officer, disappointingly.
The Captain looked at the Executive Officer, "Are you detecting any ships coming through the Vortex?"
"There's some kind of solid metallic mass on the other side, but I can't tell if it's a space rock or a ship. There's too much interference from the Vortex."
"Does anyone have any ideas on how to close the Vortex?" the Admiral asked with a tone that suggested puzzlement. Aaen grinned—
"What about the Ranger?"
"What?" the Captain asked.
"The Ranger!"
"What about it?" the Executive Officer asked.
"Does the Ranger have power?" he paused, noticing a silence on the bridge. "It should still be docked with the Station. It has its own translight core and may not have sustained damage or a power failure from passing through the Vortex. Do we still have Ranger launch capability?"
The Ranger's a Defiant-class, Aaen grinned, ablative hull armor. . . Regenerative shields. . . a class—ten?—translight core, and armed up to. . . Aaen gasped through his nose . . .It's a freaking warship! No match for the Station, but it's armed enough that it could—
"Yes! We do! The docking clamps are still functioning, Admiral!" the Captain announced.
She rushed to the captain, "How fast can we launch the Ranger?" she asked frantically. The answer was pointed out.
"Do it!"
"I'm on it!"
Strategic Operations looked forward, and then around the bridge frantically, "Where's the intruder?"
*****
Steve H. told Jordan Foutin, "You are the next Tom Clancy. You really are a gifted writer."
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