Scorpion Relay - Part Two

Woah! Aaen was wide-eyed at the first of what he guessed were only a few pages, judging by the thinness of the folder. The first page was a simple military-grade legal notice stating that the contents on the pages to follow were strictly 'Eyes-Only' material for . . . "authorized personnel only" . . . with more haunting fine-print towards the bottom of the page. His heartbeat became stiffer, and he noticed his ears were ringing from the anxiety of the moment. He realized he was holding his breath, and he began to have second-thoughts about continuing to read the pages to follow. His face began to feel flushed, but he chose to turn the page anyway. Someone put this in his locker. He was half as curious about 'who'—not to mention 'why', but he dropped the latter question in favor of turning to the next page.

He took another breath—the feeling of anxiety suddenly stopped—looked around again, and began reading the first of four paragraphs on the first page. He could tell already it was a mission dossier . . . Recent Intelligence reports indicated the Rotelans are developing a new cloaking device that—when activated—enabled the ship enabled to pass through any form of solid matter, get within collision distance of any known ship, and could even elude border Triadion detection nets. . . .

Aaen was puzzled, shocked, nervous, and curious about what he had just read. His mind rambled with as-yet uncertain possibilities as to what this technology could mean for security. Of course, he remembered he didn't have to worry. There was a whole government division in charge of worrying about such things, and clearly they are worried, or else they wouldn't have put this in his locker. He figured he must have done something right at some point in the past to get this treatment. Given what the Galileo's rumored crew compliment was—for a shuttle craft—he wondered who else was given a similar 'invitation', particularly considering what the rumors were about the Galileo's purpose—

Aaen was overwhelmed with silent, emphatic curiosity. He continued to read . . . The technology is still in its late manufacturing stages, but they are rushing it to testing stages. Initial simulations suggested the device had promising military functions. . .

It's hard enough to detect their ships with their current level of cloaking technology. Even at darn-near point-blank-range! . . . Aaen's mind rambled with more possibilities of what this could mean for security. If they've figured out a way to minimize—or even eliminate—Triadion emissions, then the border detection nets would be pretty much useless. And if they were able to pass through solid matter, even if we could detect them, then our weapons would pass right through them in the event of a confrontation on any particular level. That's not even the last thing The Union would ever want to happen. The most earnest of diplomatic efforts always came first before any starship's commanding officer would consider so much as changing the ship's alert status. Aaen would know. But if Intelligence operatives were aware of such technology, and how its manufacturer intended to use it once the technology was determinedly ready for field use, and were going out of their way to keep it an albeit apparently imperfect secret, then military and political leaders had already discussed the matter quickly and at length, and decided diplomacy wasn't an option. Only some kind of . . . discrete . . . direct action.

He continued reading . . . The Galileo is being prepared for a solo, deep-incursion mission . . . Aaen nodded . . . A crew of five have been selected for this classified operation. The Galileo was scheduled for launch in one week from today from the USSC Voyager. Special military protocols had been secretly put in place that absolutely guarantee's the mission's secrecy from the public . . . Aaen realized this mission was essentially a black op. He turned the page. His chest felt heavy with the realization . . . The rest of the assigned crew would be gathering in the Voyager's primary briefing room where more mission details would be disclosed—

He eagerly thumbed to the next page to find color technical specifications of the Galileo, with in-depth details about her hull type, stealth technology, engines, shields, communications . . . and her tactical capabilities!—

He heard footsteps from behind!—

He snapped to close the binder. It immediately resealed itself. He stood up and held the binder at his side like a book as he walked around the corner. He refocused his attention on the quickly gathering crowd of cadets and officers at a small table where three Starbase staff were directing the new arrivals into three lines and then filling out new rank certificates in order of arrivals.

After receiving a new rank certificate, they tossed their belongings next to the same wall and then found a space on one of the three steps.

"Commander," a junior officer acknowledged Aaen immediately.

Aaen nodded and replied, "As you were." The junior officer relaxed and sat about a foot from Aaen. "What ship are you on?"

"Not sure. Command hasn't given me my assignment yet."

Aaen subtly laughed at the news. "Really?" Weird.

The junior officer focused his attention on his new rank certificate.

Aaen gave his uniform jacket a mild tug around the waist as more new arrivals walked in. He looked around the crowd in hopes of finding any familiar faces. So far, none. Something felt very different about what was to come. . . .

Before long, the room was buzzing with indistinguishable, enthusiastic chatter between those sitting on the steps. Aaen noted the primary door to the room slid open.

One wearing a black shirt immediately entered and shouted, "TEN-HUT!"

Everyone in the room stood up as Fleet Admiral Williamson entered, followed by five wearing green shirts and between one and four stars on their shoulders.

"At ease." Everyone below Admiralty sat down.

"Troops! We need to get all of you into your ships as soon as possible. . ." He introduced each of the Admirals overseeing each ship's missions. Rear Admiral (Upper-Half) Warner was in charge of the Falcon, Rear Admiral (Upper-half) Call was—as usual—overseeing Odyssey, Vice Admiral Daymont was overseeing Magellan, Vice Admiral Houston—Voyager, and Vice Admiral Carroll—she was about five-foot-six, short brown hair, blue eyes, a wide-face, and a bright complexion.

 . . . Galileo. The air was electrified at the mention, as usual.

Crews were divided into ships by their ranks. Galileo was organized last behind Vice Admiral Carroll. Aaen was the third-ranking-officer below another commander and a captain. This crew was the last to be dismissed.

After a brief stop on the way to the briefing room, Vice Admiral Carroll led the five crew members to the assigned briefing room.

The door was closed. Aaen noted it was locked using some kind of special security code. The upper part of the door's control panel displayed characters that looked like gibberish. Below, in large bold lettering read:

"- SEALED -"

"Okay, crew," she gestured to the adjacent wall. "Stand up against this wall while I unlock the door." He and the other four crew members quickly followed the order. He opened the dossier and thumbed through the pages again.

He closed the dossier as a set of loud clicking sounds came from the doorway in a precise sequence. "You must be Commander Aaen?" She spoke rather directly.

'Must be?' Aaen smiled and acknowledged her. She returned the gesture.

She unlocked the door and then entered the room. Aaen followed as third in line. The room resembled the Magellan's briefing room. "Everyone, go ahead and take a seat."

Aaen took one of the small plastic chairs with four metal legs in the center of the room at the same table as the rest of the crew. He had a great view of the projection screen bearing the Galileo's classified logo from the overhead projector. 
The room was darker than usual, and he noted the usual (though more subtle) beeping sounds of computers running pre-flight diagnostics seemingly from every direction—very different than what he had seen on the Voyager or Magellan . . . or the Odyssey, for that matter. Something that elementary being so much different than the other ships he had been on said something about the Galileo and her designed nature. The rumors he recalled hearing in the past seemed to be almost eerily true so far. His ribs almost painfully tickled at the realization. Something—a deeper, more tickly gut feeling—told him this mission was going to be very different than anything he had done before. 

*****

Steve H. told Jordan Foutin, "You are the next Tom Clancy. You really are a gifted writer."

DANIEL STORM, a Jordan Foutin eBook, is available for $8.99 at any of these fine online retailers: 

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Scorpion Relay - Part One

The Translight conduit started to blur and shake in the main viewscreen. No, that was the hull. He knew what that meant. Aaen read and quickly analyzed the information on his navigational screen. He anxiously realized the Station's course was gradually becoming unstable. The Station was still on course—for now, but that was probably gonna change, he realized in shock, if the Station didn't come to full stop, and soon. What was left of the attitude thrusters were barely online and keeping the Station steady on its current heading. He looked at the readings again—in a manner of speaking, the Station was almost walking on ice! At this speed, if navigational control failed, the Station could end up virtually anywhere, and fast. And there were a few places Aaen and (he anticipated) most of the rest of the bridge crew didn't want to go or end up, for that matter.

"Hull integrity's dropping fast!" Ensign Bryce alarmingly declared. "Seventy-five percent! . . . Sixty!"

Hammond read his screen, then snapped. "We're at the coordinates! Power-down Translight!"

Struggling overhead bulkheads made a reverberating sound that sent a chill down Aaen's spine. The vibrations in the decked gradually intensified until even the desks rattled. He was fast on the controls, then watched the power levels in the coils gradually drop to zero.

He eyed the main viewscreen, watching as the Station shifted along what looked like a space track. He felt himself being jerked left, then right, back and forth, then away and upright against an invisible pull forward as he pushed away from his station to keep himself steady. .and then stars gradually became still. He grinned as he declared, "Translight's offline! Thrusters at station-keeping." He looked at Admiral Jensen and breathed a sigh of relief, nodding as he said, "All-stop."

"Take the power out of Translight and put it into all essential systems, especially Sickbay. Ensign Sorenson, do we have any shuttle launch capability?"

"Damage Control's been good with the repairs. We've got three functioning launch pads. We can launch Runabouts again, for a while, at least, until we can do more thorough repairs."

Admiral Jensen gave a new series of orders, one to security to take the intruders to the brig, another order was given to Lieutenant Harrison to contact Starfleet requesting the nearest ships to rendezvous and help with repairs. As it turned out, at maximum translight, the nearest ships were only minutes away. Aaen kept grinning. Magellan would fly again. Soon. Aaen's gut told him things were only just beginning. There's a lot more to come. For now, he enjoyed just being able to breathe sighs of relief.

Admiral Jensen looked down and right. "Lieutenant Harrison. Patch me through to all decks."

He looked up and nodded.

"All hands, all stations . . .," she took a quick breath before continuing, "Station is on Def Con five. All hands to the Runabouts." Admiral Jensen looked at Captain Williams.

"Put the Station on auxiliary power. All main computer functions transfer to backup systems," Captain Williams said to Sorenson, "Lockdown the bridge. We've got to get everyone back to Earth. Tell security to take the intruders to the security sections of the Runabouts instead. Launch when ready."

A series of subtle alerts filled the bridge for several seconds as the lights came back to full illumination. The bridge crew gradually stood up and walked to the bridge entrance, through a seeming maze of variably damaged corridors until reaching the promenade. Anything that was damaged would be repaired in time. And then a bay of twin round doors led to a narrower cavity on the side of his ride home. Aaen was one of the first third of the bridge crew to board the half-lit cabin, quickly buckling in a seat on the front-left side of the cabin behind the pilot. He looked over his shoulder to see the medical personnel were doing a fine job helping those who were closer to danger than he had been. They looked almost like they didn't have a care in the world. Well, except to go home, like he did, he guessed. He was glad to see everyone was alright, and, he sensed almost as excited as he was to find out which ship he was going to be assigned to next. . . . He grinned, facing forward.

The subtle hum of the Runabout's engines powering up filled the air like the comparably subtle beeping sounds from the working computers lining the bridge. The bridge lights gradually brightened as the forward running lights shined against the front of the landing bay. Aaen felt like he was falling straight down for a moment and watched as the Runabout was lifted on its landing pad to ascent-level. The upper docking arms almost jaggedly off their angle, he noted through the top of the forward view windows.

"And," the deck rattled for a second, "we're off," the pilot announced. Aaen wasn't sure who the guy with yellow shoulders in the pilot's seat was, but quickly decided he didn't care. The Runabout rose, then shifted course. The sublight engines fired, and the Station was out of view in almost a blink. "Setting course for Starbase One."

"All Runabouts are in-formation. We've got the lead." said the co-pilot.

"Everyone, standby for maximum translight."

Seconds later, after a bright flash of white light around the hull, the stars became quick streaks of light.

Runabouts were known to be fast and maneuverable. The Runabout dropped out of translight after what seemed like only about a half an hour flight, and a brief one at that. Earth and Starbase One hadn't looked so beautiful, he recalled, since Aaen returned on the Voyager with the convoy back-when. . .

The pilot sitting on the left was quick and sharp on the flight controls. The approach to the inner landing pads was smooth, and the landing was virtually without sensation. A brief, mild alarm signaled it was ok to stand up. Aaen was among the first to off-board. He proceeded to collect his things and then enjoyed a ride home with the rest of his family. After getting some welcomed sleep, and a few months of vacation, Aaen returned to Starbase One for his next assignment. Aaen noticed there were almost twice as many cadets and officers as before coming through the main entrance.

After removing putting his things next to the same wall as before, he removed the lock from his locker door—he found a thin red folder seemingly without any labeling.

He sat down on the highest step and briefly examined the folder—then looked a little bit closer. Finding nothing, he angled the folder in the overhead lights.

The top of the cover read:

"TOP SECRET - USS GALILEO - OFFICIAL -

EYES ONLY
OPERATION: SCORPION RELAY"

Aaen was awestruck and shocked at what he read. He read it again in an effort to convince himself he wasn't hallucinating. He subconsciously didn't think he was, but he wanted to be sure. He looked around to check if anyone was around.

He realized he wasn't. There were a few others in the room, but their backs were to him on the two lower steps. There were no cameras. Good.

He spent the next ten seconds trying to figure out how to open the binder. It appeared to be sealed from each side of what otherwise should be a front and a back cover. . .

He adjusted his grip, then a small rectangular portion of the edge of the folder lit up. A fine white line moved across the length of his thumb twice, and then the lip of the folder lit up for a second, and the front and back covers parted.

He was nervous—almost scared—to open the binder. He took a slow, deep breath, and then anxiously thumbed the front cover open—

*****

Steve H. told Jordan Foutin, "You are the next Tom Clancy. You really are a gifted writer."

DANIEL STORM, a Jordan Foutin eBook, is available for $8.99 at any of these fine online retailers: 

smashwords.com (Remember to like and share!)

apple iBooks (This link is best viewed on iPhone or iPad)

barnesandnoble.com 

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kobo.com

blio.com

Make sure to buy your copy today, and like and share!

Make sure to like the official StormTeam Simulations Facebook page for the latest, including when DANIEL STORM will be available on Amazon.com for Kindle eBook and softcover! Coming soon!

Vortex - Part 30

There are things senior mission commanding officers typically might say or might give an operationally-specific order to do in the field in the interest of better ensuring mission success, there are those things that every such junior officer hopes will be ordered, and then there are those things one suspects could be ordered, but deep-down hopes never will be. . .unless it was absolutely necessary. The THX-1140 unequivocally fit the latter-most possibility. There had never been rumors of that order being given—thank goodness, although that didn't mean there weren't hopes for some kind of 'mock' test at some point just to satisfy that lingering itching curiosity about what 1140 really could do on an inanimate target—like a particle rifle to a blank steel plate. No matter, Aaen told himself. He was nervous-exited to see the 114 in action, though at least a little unsure as to how well it would function with so much damage to the Station. The 114 was considered to be like a pseudo-secondary weapons array. A failsafe, as it were—one that had never been said to have failed. Well. . .we'll see.

He looked around, paying particular attention to the lights. Nothing had changed just yet. Maybe the order hadn't been carried out yet? He asked himself, watching as another large fleet of metal hulks soared toward the Station. This may be it, Aaen told himself, more eager now for the chief of operations to carry out Admiral Jensen's order.

"I need more power to the secondary weapons array, Engineer!"

"Hurry!" the Admiral snapped, her tone indicated she was as nervous-scared as Aaen sensed at least two-thirds of the bridge crew. He eyed the readouts on his computers—the maneuvering thrusters were still online. . .and somehow Translight was still online. Barely! The power levels were fluctuating every few seconds. Changes were patternless. Let's hope we don't have to fire that up just yet, Aaen silently hoped. The meters were dropping and climbing so fast. . .

"You've got every spark of power we've got left to spare!"

"Whatever you're going to do, chief, do it fast! They're nearly in weapons range!"

"Roger that! ADMIRAL! CRM-1-1-5, activated!"

A series of beeping and chirping sounds came from the left-wing—the lights quickly, gradually faded into darkness, and a mechanical groaning sound rolled through the Station that sent sharp chills up and down Aaen spine from the base of his skull to his waist. His arms from the elbow-down felt cold for a moment, then the feeling normalized. My computer screens! Aaen watched more wide-eyed as the engine and navigational readouts were swept away and replaced with a more sharply colored series of tactical readouts, and a targeting reticule similar to Hammond's screen!

The main viewscreen showed images of a whole battery of cannon arrays and torpedo launchers emerging from sections of the hull (the deck subtly vibrated, he noted) that Aaen didn't know existed! And they were larger and meaner-looking than what Ensign Sorenson had been firing!

Two security officers to Aaen's right fired their rifles on stun. That pirate won't be getting up again for a while, he grinned on the left side of his face. The look normalized as he focused on the readings in front of him. The meter on the right side of his screens indicated he had a queue of five class-fourteen high-yield torpedoes, each, and a rechargeable cannon array. He looked up, then left. The Station was bearing its next set of teeth—the next order still had to be given. There was only one on the Station who could legally give that order.

"Ranger's docked!" the Captain announced.

"Does everyone have a supply of torpedoes and a cannon?" Admiral Jensen asked worryingly. She looked around to find nods and thumbs-up gestures.

"They're coming!"

"Okay! All-hands on the bridge: establish weapons' lock!"

Aaen felt scared—not for himself, not anymore. . .but for the pirates. The size of each torpedo on his screen told him that there was enough boom still about to be shot at the pirates. . . Aaen nodded at the Admiral.

She faced forward. "Ensign Henderson! Transmit an order to surrender."

The order was quickly carried out. He turned around, "No response."

"Fine. All stations! Fire-at-will!"

The deck shuddered as almost blinding bursts of light and beams of fire shot ferociously at their targets. The Pirates maneuvered sharply in formation, but the torpedoes were sharper and found their targets, exploding them into massive and violent jagged spreads of debris. Some of the debris tore through the neighboring ship's hull. One formation suffered severe plasma leaks from either the hull or from a nacelle. Another formation looked like a collection of pieces of Swiss cheese. Another formation—consisting of ships large enough to dock with the Station—was blown apart with each ship tumbling on a seemingly derelict spin. The torpedoes' shockwaves spread in every direction. After the first volley, the pirates' had already taken at least moderate losses, Aaen estimated.

Several formations circled around and regrouped, forming an arrowhead-like formation, firing in a wave!

Lieutenant Harrison picked up his handset. "Everyone, brace for impact!" the announcement rolled through the Station as numerous horrifically violent explosions pummeled the Station like a carpet bomb. Aaen watched in shock as dense particle beams hammered the central core reactor and the sound of more struggling bulkheads.

The bridge crew struggled to stay upright as the Station groaned, shifting relative position under the intense pressure from the explosions. Aaen pulled himself upright and then watched as the rest of the bridge crew helped each other back up. Aaen noted he was out of torpedoes. And his cannon array had been devastated by a direct torpedo spread. It was just a huge, jagged piece of sparking metal, now. He looked around frantically. "My weapons are down! Can anyone else still fire?"

A lot of heads were turning at the back of the bridge, some crew members responded with verbal acknowledgments.

"Restoring primary bridge systems!"

A few beeps later, Aaen was happy to see his engines were still online—barely.

"Admiral, we've taken heavy damaged to the outer hull, and some sections of the secondary hull after that last barrage!"

Aaen's gut sank again at the announcement from Damage Control. The looks on the faces of the rest of the bridge crew as far as Aaen could see indicated most of them were thinking and feeling the same thing. And Aaen was particularly curious about the fact the Pirates weren't coming around for another pass. Magellan was badly damaged, and leaking atmosphere from all over! He noted. There were holes almost all through the hull and the power grid was humming a struggle. The lights didn't come back online. His gut told him they were lucky to still have enough power for their bridge computer stations and the main viewscreen! Focus! Aaen told himself.

"There are only four pirate ships left! They're ignoring the Station and forming up around Maddog's ship!"

Aaen reasoned, they're trying to protect him as they launch their attack. The Station's too badly damaged to be of interest to them.

Aaen stood up and looked left, leaning on his palms atop his station, "Admiral! They're going to use the Vortex data!—" Aaen emphatically reminded her, but she waved him off.

"Do we have weapons capability, at-all, Sorenson?"

He turned his head disappointingly and disappointingly responded, "No. Everything's down. We can't even launch Runabouts!"

Aaen noted a look of profound stress on Admiral Jensen's face. She combed both of her hands through her hair and kept her hands on her head in a silent panic. "Options? Does anyone have any ideas?" she asked in a silent panic.

There's still one! Aaen thought. "Admiral!" he called to her directly, "We've lost weapons. We can't launch shuttles, and our supports are disabled." The notion of what he was going to say next made his palms chill against his stations.

"What are you suggesting we do, Commander?" Captain Williams asked directly with comparable emotion as Aaen.

"I'm detecting an energy build-up in Maddog's ship! They're opening a Vortex!"

Aaen took a deep breath and then said, "Lieutenant Malcolm! Is the tractor still online?"

"No, sir. Tractors aren't even showing up as being part of the Station, dang it!"

Aaen nodded acknowledgment. "Okay." he looked at Admiral Jensen, "Then there's only one other option,"

"What?" Admiral Jensen asked sharply. "What can we still do?"

Aaen determinedly replied, "We still have engines. We can pursue them."

"But we don't have weapons! What good does pursuing them do if we don't have weapons?" Sorenson asked.

All speech on the bridge ceased as though what Aaen was alluding to had become evident. The lights came up to about one-sixth of maximum illumination. Aaen noted Admiral Jensen looked at him stressed. "Do it."

Aaen was quick with the controls. The small fleet of pirate ships was quickly approaching a glowing white orifice directly in their flight path.

"What are you suggesting we do, Commander?" Admiral Jensen asked. "We don't have weapons anymore,"

"Technically, we do."

"Vortex is nearly open! We're coming up on the projected event-horizon!"

"What are you saying?"

"Admiral, I'm saying I can set a collision course with Maddog's ship,"

Several crew members suddenly stopped their work and sharply turned in their seats at Aaen with a look of skepticism, others looked shocked at what they had just heard.

"But we've taken so much damage, how could the Station sustain a deliberate collision with a ship that size?—"

"Admiral," he pointed at the main viewscreen, "for all we know every ship we've been defending ourselves from were all drones! They might be rendezvousing with who they're working for on the other side of the Vortex! This might be our only chance to stop what could be a larger-scale assault force from attacking us!"

"The Vortex is opening!" Lieutenant Hammond boldly announced, concerned.

"—Admiral?" Aaen asked. She looked at him blankly.

"Do it."

Aaen scrambled with the controls. "Ensign Bryce! I need all power we've got left to the thrusters!"

"Put all auxiliary and emergency power into the thrusters! HURRY!" the Admiral commanded.

Aaen maneuvered the Station around so the pirates were centered in the main viewscreen. "Forward thrusters!" And they were moving, gradually picking up speed. The eerie sound of more struggling bulkheads as the Station picked up speed.

"We're catching up! Fast!"

"Auxiliary and emergency power levels are dropping quickly!" Ensign Bryce announced frantically.

"Plug in the core reactor! Tie it in directly with the thrusters! I'm gonna need EVERYTHING WE'VE GOT LEFT!"

"Do it!" Admiral Jensen commanded.

As the order was carried out, the deck vibrations were building . . . and becoming stronger. Aaen had to hold on especially tight to his stations to stay steady in his seat! Magellan's thrusters were comparably as powerful as the Orions' sublight engines! With auxiliary and emergency power tied-in, and then the Station's reactor, itself—

"Commander! You've got everything we've got left! Admiral, we're running on minimal life-support on all decks!"

"Understood!"

"Alright, everybody! Cross your fingers!" the pirate ship was quickly getting larger in the main viewscreen. The vibrations and rattling were so strong and intense that Aaen could barely clearly see the main viewscreen anymore! An eerie groaning metallic struggle was gradually becoming louder—

Admiral Jensen struggled against bridge stations lining the center walkway to get back to her chair.

"We're closing in on Maddog's ship! Two-thousand meters! . . . Sixteen hundred!—The Vortex is open! I'm reading numerous ships on the other side! Can't tell who they are, or their course because of damage to the long-range sensors! The pirates are fifteen-hundred meters from the event horizon!"

"Distance to Maddog's ship?" Captain Williams asked.

"Fourteen-hundred-meters—URGH!—and closing! FAST!"

Lieutenant Malcolm snapped, "We're gonna destroy the Station!"

The sound of a thundering explosion rolled through the bridge. Aaen's left-most computer showed a structural failure on one of the outer rings. "The thrusters are putting out so much thrust they're almost pushing through weakened sections of the hull!" he declared. What's left of it!

"—One-thousand-meters!—"

Maddog's ship was directly ahead and to starboard, Aaen noted. The surrounding pirate ships sped up, broke formation and flew out of sight.

"Maddog's escorts are gone! Looks like they've retreated!"

Aaen looked left at the Admiral. She looked at him and struggled to lean over her armrest. She covered her face with her hand from the nearly blinding light from the Vortex and yelled, "DO IT!"

Aaen used what maneuvering thrusters were left to move the Station to port, gradually coming alongside the target. Small hull fragments were breaking off the outer docking ring! The Station's falling apart! C'mon, Magellan, HANG ON! Aaen thought determinedly. His chest swelled with determination as he grinned, slamming the starboard thruster control!

A final deafening groan filled the bridge as the two hulls viscously, violently collided. Most of the bridge crew were thrown from their seats for several feet onto the deck. The vibrations and shuddering piqued as Aaen struggled to climb his chair back to his station, watching in horror as pieces of the Station broke off and tumbled into space as the bridging arms connecting the outer and secondary rings gradually dug into the target. The hull fragments tumbling into space were blinding as the target ship became disfigured beyond recognition. Aaen watched his computer screens abruptly blackout as sparks from the pirate ship's secondary hull turned into large, booming explosions. The explosion's shock rolled through the Station as the pirate ship drifted off course. Smoke billowed from the floor as the joining bridge to the secondary ring started to collapse under pressure. Metallic screams flooded the bridge as the Vortex collapsed; the metallic sounds drowned out the alerts. Aaen collapsed again from the floor vibrations. . . .

. . . .The deck vibrations calmed. The shuddering stopped. Aaen stayed still as he found himself lying on his back, dizzy from being tossed to the floor from the mayhem. After he came to, he gradually climbed back up to his seat and looked around.

The bridge was dark—and silent. The main viewscreen had blacked out.

"Is everyone okay?" Admiral Jensen asked.

"I'm good!" Aaen replied. The rest of the bridge crew responded similarly, among gasps from those still getting their bearings. Aaen noticed Hammond's computer was the only one he could see was still online.

"Lieutenant Hammond, report. . . Lieutenant?" Captain Williams asked.

"Aye. Maddog's ship's adrift. Minimal power readings. I'm detecting an escape pod launching! One lifeform on-board!—It's Maddog!"

"We're receiving a transmission from his escape pod!" Lieutenant Harrison announced.

"Put it on speakers!" Admiral Jensen said.

A grainy and distorted message played, "You may have . . . won . . . a victory today, Union. . . . Make no mistake . . . .You haven't seen the last of the Orion Pirates. . . .There will be a 'next time' . . an . . time comes . . . You will regret what happen . . .'ere today."

A trio of beeps sounded. "He stopped transmitting."

"What are we going to do about the pirates on that ship, Admiral?" Captain Williams asked.

"They've managed to restore partial main power. They're leaving the sector following Maddog's course and speed."

"Leave them. We've stopped their plans to attack," said Admiral Jensen.

"Just before the Vortex closed, the ships I detected earlier moved away from the Vortex. If they were working with the pirates, they left pretty quickly when they realized the pirates weren't coming."

Admiral Jensen looked at Aaen, "Aaen can we get back on Translight?"

Ensign Bryce snapped, "Most of the bridge stations are down. I'm trying to get some power up here to get them back online. . . There!"

Aaen eyed the new readings on his computer screen. "Yes! If we can put get more power in navigation and the structural integrity field, we can get back. Ensign Bryce?"

"Just a sec. . .! Try that."

Aaen adjusted the power levels on his computer screens for the Translight coils. "Laying a course for point-of-origin. . . Course set!"

"Ensign Bryce, double check the structural integrity field generators."

"We've got enough power for one more Translight jump," he confirmed.

"Lieutenant Harrison, send a message to Command about our current condition, and request assistance for our support ships. Tell Command we're on our way back for repairs."

"Yes, Admiral."

"Message from Sickbay, Captain! The wounded are stable. All are expected to make full recoveries."

"Understood." The response was followed by a gasp of relief.

"This is Lieutenant Watson, down here in Engineering! Everyone down here is pretty banged up but we're okay. The main reactor core is back online. We're ready to get back whenever you are, bridge."

"Thank you for the update, Watson." Admiral Jensen responded.

"'Er, no problem, Admiral. Translight standin' by."

Admiral Jensen turned to Aaen, "Commander. Activate Translight."

Aaen nodded, grinning, "Activating Translight in three. . .two. . .one!—" 

*****

Steve H. told Jordan Foutin, "You are the next Tom Clancy. You really are a gifted writer."

DANIEL STORM, a Jordan Foutin eBook, is available for $8.99 at any of these fine online retailers: 

smashwords.com (Remember to like and share!)

apple iBooks (This link is best viewed on iPhone or iPad)

barnesandnoble.com 

scribd.com 

kobo.com

blio.com

Make sure to buy your copy today, and like and share!

Make sure to like the official StormTeam Simulations Facebook page for the latest, including when DANIEL STORM will be available on Amazon.com for Kindle eBook and softcover! Coming soon!

Vortex - Part 29

The pirate collapsed.

Aaen gasped in relief, then leaned his full weight against his computer stations, trying to find relief for the buzzing, tingling pain in his shoulder that was making holding the rifle difficult. The tingling was gradually shooting to his fingertips. The strategy worked. He gasped in relief and was just barely able to maintain his grip on the particle rifle. The feeling gradually dissipated. He tried to move his shoulder around a few times to check for lingering sensation. The pirate's shot wasn't a direct hit, he grinned, noting the only sound was the reverberating alert gradually rolling right and left through the bridge. He stood behind his station around to find a few heads were gradually peering over the other side of the bridge with looks on their faces comparable to his. He looked to Lieutenant Harrison and pointed, "Lieutenant," he was still catching his breath as he pulled himself into his chair, "Contact Sickbay. As fast as you can. Tell them we've got wounded up here!" He paused for a breath, "Tell the CMO to get up here, on the double!" he commanded directly, throwing his weight into his seat. 

Harrison nodded and acknowledged. "Aye!" 

Aaen snapped, stood up and looked around and did a head count . . . roughly one-quarter of the bridge was unconscious from particle bolt stuns—Dang it! "And tell security to get some people up here!" He wanted to check to make sure the pirates were still stunned. He thought going to the firing range twice times per week—mostly for fun—would have made him a better shot, be better able to defend himself and the bridge in general in these types of situations. No matter, now, he told himself, assuringly. Things at least seemed to be stable for the moment. The intruders were each down for the next five minutes. For some reason—Aaen couldn't quite mentally finger it—the fact intruders made it to the bridge registered in his mind as being very, personal. The thought—the very notion that intruders made it to the bridge—caused him to renew his grip on the particle rifle, and he felt the urge to walk back to the pirate he had just stunned and give it a piece of where is his mind was at the moment . . . but on a higher setting. . . He took aim. The intruder's still down, he grinned. 

"Is everyone alright?" Aaen asked authoritatively through the bridge, walking towards the Admiral's computer. He found her on the floor, unconscious from the pirate's stun shot. The Captain was on the middle level where she had been before and was recovering more quickly. 

"Harrison, where's that medical team?" he asked directly.

"En-route! Security's pushing back the intruders on that deck!"

"Roger that! Keep me updated!" the response was a nod. 

Aaen lifted the Captain back on her feet. She threw her weight on her chair bluntly and acted dazed; she leaned on her elbows and covered her face with her palms. Aaen reasoned she was feeling dizzy and was trying to take her mind off some sense of some sense of motion sickness. He returned to his station while directly and emphatically eyeing the main viewscreen. 

There were no words at the moment as he eyed the bright, dense cloud of metallic debris that seemed to be lingering around the Station. The eerie, seemingly distant sound of struggling bulkheads was just as concerning. The source of the debris gradually came into view—the entire outer ring looked like jagged, wrecked, burning metal. He also noted bright spotty plasma fires. The secondary hull was visible, and high-voltage electrical wiring—still very live, Aaen observed—was hanging loosely from the secondary hull. His mind started flooding with curiosity and the worry over whether or not some portion of the Station's assigned population was floating around out there. Please, no, he silently pleaded. Worse, the Station was venting atmosphere from the more severely damaged areas of the visible hull. 

He felt like he had an elephant sitting on his chest as the visual sensor panned down, and then gradually left—the knot in Aaen's stomach doubled as he spotted some holes in the hull big enough for a freakin' shuttle to fly through! He could eve see sections of the inner corridors! Granted, the view wasn't perfect, thank goodness! He reminded himself, watching as the sensor continue slowly panning left. From what was visible, the lights were flickering erratically and getting darker. 

"Lieutenant Malcolm, what is the Station's population?"

"Sir?—"

He looked left, repeating himself directly. "How many people are on the Station?"

"One-thousand-three-hundred-twenty,"

—The pressure in Aaen's chest disappeared quickly at the good news, more-so as he observed Lieutenant Hammond resuming his station. 

"Commander, there are about ten pirate ships still out there, and their systems are fully powered. They don't seem to have taken any damage. Three of our supports are disabled. But we've still got the Lightshield."

"Medical team's on their way! They're being escorted by security! They've pushed back the intruders! The intruders are being taken to the brig!"

Aaen nodded acknowledgment, catching his breath as he eyed the readings on his computer screens. This isn't over, he reminded himself. Until the intruders are safely in the brig, this Station's not outta the woods. . . Not immediately, at least, and then there's the pirate reinforcements. He redirected his attention to the front of the bridge. "Someone keep an eye on these pirates! And—"

"Commander! The Ranger's returning to the Station." Lieutenant Hammond announced.

Aaen stood behind Hammond. "What about the rest of the pirates?"

"They're maintaining their original course! They're flying right past the Station!"

Oh, shoot! "On-screen!"

And they were. Their flight path, speed, and pattern were casual, almost worry-free—which suggested they weren't worried about whether or not Magellan was still detecting them or not. "What's their heading?" Do we still have a weapons lock on any of them? Aaen wondered.

"Scanning. . ." he read out the new coordinate readings on his screen, and then looked up over his right shoulder with a concerned look bordering on desperation. Aaen couldn't help but look straight at sensor readings, gradually clenching his jaws.

Anxiously, Aaen gave his next order, "Sorenson! Tell me we have weapons lock on those ships," he had a nervous gut feeling about what he was about to hear, particularly while recognizing the Station was still drifting a little, and the amount of debris had darn-near doubled. The Station's falling apart around us, Aaen reasoned. He guessed the structural integrity field generators were struggling. . . Hold on, Magellan, he thought silently.

"Primary targeting sensors are offline, manual controls are sketchy, Commander. We have about a hundred torpedoes left, one-third of our cannon arrays are offline from external structural damage."

In other words: Magellan's badly damaged, and according to his readings, the Station's still drifting. Attitude-control thrusters must've taken a hit. Aaen wondered how much fight Magellan still had. He was able to stabilize their relative position, but those pirate ships were getting away!. . .

"They still have weapons lock on us, Commander!" Sorenson declared. Another alarm flooded the bridge.

"Four of those ships are changing course!" Hammond announced. "They're circling back around! The other six are continuing to go past the Station!"

"Do we have anything left?" Aaen asked, watching as the medical team arrived on the bridge, just as the Admiral was starting to regain consciousness, Aaen observed in relief.

The CMO rushed the medical team first to the Admiral and then gestured for the rest of the medical team to help the rest of the downed crew members. Aaen pointed out their general location on the bridge. The security escorts quickly snapped and surrounded the pirates, who were also waking up, Aaen cautiously noted.

"Maybe, Commander!" Malcolm quickly responded.

"That'll be helpful, Lieutenant! Because we're showing more pirate ships approaching!" Hammond quipped. 

You've gotta be freaking KIDDING ME! Aaen silently exclaimed in shock.

"They're heading right for us!"

Aaen noted the Admiral was quick to get back on her feet after a little help from the CMO. She gasped before asking, "Report?" 

Station status updates were offered from different parts of the bridge. She combed her fingers through her hair. What options were still immediately available didn't inspire confidence for the immediate future. Based on the number of new sensor contacts . . . 

"—Admiral! We still have one more option!" Sorenson declared. The captain came to and looked to Admiral Jensen. 

"What?"

"Our primary weapons array is basically down. But we still have the CRM-115,"

"—Pirates' will be in weapons range real soon!"

"Admiral! Whatever we're going to do, we need to do it. Fast!" Captain Williams reminded her.

Admiral Jensen combed her fingers through her hair.

If the order to activate the CRM-115 is given—and that thing's activated . . . Aaen almost wanted to laugh in panic for the Orions. Or was it pity? Given the level of damage to the Station, he had doubts as to whether or not that thing would still be working . . . for some reason, he felt like grinning from a sudden sensation of confidence and determination, considering what the CRM-115 was designed to do. Once activated, Aaen recalled, it would turn every-single-computer on the bridge into a fully-armed weapons platform. Each computer would be given access to a small compliment of high-yield torpedo warheads and a cannon bank. The power draw on the Station's reactor was said to be incredible. And for good reason. But that was nothing compared to the THX-1140. The only people on the entire Station who knew how—or had the authority to give the order—to activate the CRM-115 was the Admiral and the Captain. Activating that thing required a special process, including both command-level authorization codes.

"Is that our only option?"

"It's all we've got left!"

"Confirmed! The Station's taken a lot of damage! The primary weapons array is offline!"

"—They're almost here!"

If the Orions take the Station, Aaen reasoned, they could use it—even in its current condition. He noticed Captain Williams was sharing the look he was giving her, which told him she was thinking the same thing.

The Admiral snapped, "Lieutenant Harrison! Patch me through to all decks!"

He nodded, and then announced, "You're patched through!" What came next even echoed through the bridge.

"All decks! This is Admiral Jensen. The Station is badly damaged, and we have another wave of Orion pirate ships on their way in, fast. They are going to attack. All crew members are to lock down where you're at and standby for further instructions!" Lieutenant Mars waved her down. After reading the information on her screen, she returned to her chair. "New intelligence says the Orions are working with the Rotelans and are working for them and are going to use the Vortex data to attack the Federation. We will-not-allow that to happen and will use every remaining means at our disposal to stop them. Good luck. Bridge. Out."

The line beeped thrice closed. Anxious anticipation were the only emotions on the bridge.

Admiral Jensen snapped as she looked at Lieutenant Malcolm. "Lieutenant. Activate the CRM-115!"

*****

Steve H. told Jordan Foutin, "You are the next Tom Clancy. You really are a gifted writer."

DANIEL STORM, a Jordan Foutin eBook, is available for $8.99 at any of these fine online retailers: 

smashwords.com (Remember to like and share!)

apple iBooks (This link is best viewed on iPhone or iPad)

barnesandnoble.com 

scribd.com 

kobo.com

blio.com

Make sure to buy your copy today, and like and share!

Make sure to like the official StormTeam Simulations Facebook page for the latest, including when DANIEL STORM will be available on Amazon.com for Kindle eBook and softcover! Coming soon!