Disclaimer: I do not own either of these two things I'm using . . . I am getting a lot lazier when it comes to this disclaimer stuff
Sidenote: I would like to give thanks to my new editor, NightOwlCity. I would highly recommend checking out some of the stories he has written. He has written some really good stuff in my opinion so check it out if you get the chance or if you're looking for something else to read.
Chapter II:
Adrift
Location: Unknown, Time: Unknown
Talon's bedside alarm went off disturbing his peaceful sleep. "Uuuggghhhh, five more minutes."
His hand reached toward his alarm clock to try and shut it off . only to be met with a metallic surface instead of the hardwood nightstand he had in his personal room. And what was supposed to be his bed was instead a cool, flat, metallic surface as well. It slowly dawned on him, as his body started to wake up, that sound wasn't his alarm clock; it was the ship-wide alert system.
Talon bolted upright as his eyes shot open. At first it looked like the whole ship was shaking furiously but it turned out to be Talon's vision slowly coming back into focus. Other crew members were slowly getting their bearings, as well, as they woke up from whatever just happened. The ones who seemed less affected started helping others to their feet. A few crew members managed to get back to their stations to try and figure out what happened and to assess damage to the ship and her crew. A crew member at her station slammed down on her console, "God damn it! The whole system is down! Everything is going through a reboot!" She turned in her chair to the others around the room, "Anyone else got anything on their end?"
"No, just as you said, everything is rebooting. We are just as blind to what's happening outside the ship as we are inside." Replied another crew member.
A third started to panic, "I-if everything is rebooting, d-doesn't that mean the l-life support is down?!"
The female crew member spoke up again, "Calm down, in the event of everything rebooting, this ship has enough oxygen reserves to last a full crew forty-eight hours."
Talon finally decided to speak up, "Anyone hurt?"
A majority of the crew ignored him but one scrawny looking crew member who was being tended by two others spoke up, "I-I think my arm is broken."
The Colonel staggered over to the man, with a quick glance and a few pokes and jabs Talon looked to the two others with him, "Restrain him for a moment."
The two other hesitated for a moment but did as they were told, however the scrawny man started to panic. But before he could do anything, Talon grabbed the arm and gave it a quick jerk. A popping sound resonated from the man's arm as the shoulder was moved back into place. The scrawny man flexed his fingers before the other two released him. Without a further word between them, Talon turned around to see five crew members gathered around another who had yet to wake up.
Panic started to run rampant through Talon when he realized that it was his own father lying on the ground. Talon fell to his father's side to see what was going, a small pool of blood had formed under Andon's head but the General still retained his pulse. Acting quickly, one of the crew members grabbed a nearby tarma kit that was kept on the bridge and wrapped a bandage around his head while Talon and another snatched and unfolded a stretcher that was kept in a nearby emergency locker.
Two crewmembers whisked Andon away while a third kept a close eye on the General. Talon would have been one of the carriers but without his second arm, there wasn't much he could have done.
The bridge crew remained silent as their commander was carried off to the medical bay. But without Andon being fit for service, someone else had to take command of one of the worse situations a ship and her crew could go through. Standard procedure was to move down the chain of command to the next available officer. This one thought was going through every bridge crew member's mind. One by one, their gazes turned on their new acting commander. The crew member nearest to Talon turned slowly toward him and asked those words Talon was not even remotely prepared for.
"What are your orders, sir?"
To make matters worse, most of the ship's systems had finished going through reboot. Everyone's consoles suddenly lit up with reports across the ship, detailing the extent of damage: how many were either injured, killed, or missing, and those asking for immediate assistance. More and more crewmembers kept saying those words, 'What are your orders, sir?'. Talon tried his best to issue them as best he could. But for every thing he thought he solved, it would come back moments later while twelve new things that demanded his attention popped up.
He couldn't do it.
He couldn't handle the stress.
He broke.
He ran.
And left those on the bridge leaderless.
An hour later . . .
The alarms had thankfully been turned off. To Doctor Einhart it was a blessing to not have blazing sirens help him go deaf as Jackie remained a step behind her temporary master. The doctor was searching for someone, and that someone happened to be missing his left arm. But even after a half hour of searching no results turned up and no one else seemed to know where he Luckily, his four legged companion was slightly better at finding people. Just as Einhart was about to give up and go back to the labs, Jackie stuck her nose to the ground and began sniffing. It took her a moment but once she found what she was sniffing for, she took off like a bullet.
Einhart sighed in annoyance, "Get back here, dog."
The doctor ran after the dog, weaving past soldier and crewmember alike, trying to catch Jackie before she went someone where she wasn't suppose to be and cause more trouble. But Einhart was a scientist, and wasn't very athletic at his older age. Soon beads of sweat had began to form on his head and his breathing pattern made it seem like he just ran a half marathon.
Luckily for the doctor, Jackie rounded a corner and disappeared through a doorway. Einhart leaned against the wall to, more or less, regain his regular breathing pattern. He glanced up and found Jackie had lead him to one of the ship's lounge areas. Once he was breathing normally, he peeked through the doorway to see the lounge was mostly empty save for the dog sitting down next to a stool with a man slouched over the bar. Einhart smiled softly before making his way over to the man, he briefly scratched behind Jackie's ears as thanks before sitting down on the stool next to the man.
"I thought you might need this." With that, Einhart set the cybernetic arm down of the bar and scooted it closer.
Talon gave the arm a lazy glance before he started taking off his Officer's jacket and setting it to the side. He rolled up the short sleeve on his undershirt before putting his metal appendage back to where it belonged. Einhart merely watched as Talon did what he needed. the doctor also noticed a full shot glass with look like some recently opened expensive brandy. Once Talon was done, he draped his jacket around his shoulders and went back to slouching over the bar yet he did not even touch the drink in front of him.
Einhart picked up the bottle to find that it was almost full, "And how many shots have you had. Doesn't look like you had any."
Talon nodded, "Haven't had a drop. I've just been staring at it for almost a hour now."
Einhart was baffled for a moment, "You're just . . . staring at it? You're certainly a strange one."
All he got in response was a simple nod. Several crewmembers could be heard running just outside the lounge door, their boots echoing on the metal floor. Silence hung between the two of them for a few minutes, the only sounds coming from the hallway or the occasional whine from Jackie.
Talon took a deep breath and braced himself for the answer for his next question, "H- . . . How is my father?"
Einhart did not answer right away as he tried to figure out the best way to answer. In the end, he decided to give it to him straight, "He's in a coma."
The Colonel's heart sank to a new low though he did not show it. Even if he hated his father, he was the man who raised him. Even after Talon's mother died, Andon tried his best to raise his two sons. And with one of the brothers now with their mother, all they had left was each other. Given enough time, and if they survived the war, Andon could have possibly had Yurika as a Daughter-in-law and maybe even a grandchild if the General lived that long. But with his father in a coma and the high possibility of Yurika being dead or captured, his small list of family grew ever smaller.
After another silent minute, Talon asked, "Do you know how long he might be like that?"
"From the medical report I read, he . . . he may never wake up. He hit his head pretty hard, his brain took quite a bit of damage. Even if he was to wake up, he may not be the same as he was before."
Talon let out an irritated sigh, "Well, that's it then. We're fucked." Einhart merely looked down at the bar as the soldier continued his rant, "Our ship is FUBAR, the medical bay is over capacity, we have no idea where we are and we can't call for help, we could be deep into IMC territory and we wouldn't know until we have three hundred IMC ship guns pointed toward us!" Talon's fist slammed into the bar, over turning the small glass of alcohol as he all but screamed, "And our only hope of getting us out of this complete and utter mess might never open his eyes again!"
Einhart had luckily picked up the expensive looking bottle of brandy before Talon's fist had slammed into the bar. The doctor let Talon simmer down, talking to him when he was heated like he was would have likely lead to more problems and that was the last thing they needed in their current predicament. Jackie had stood up in the middle of his rant and had cocked her head slightly, confused to what was going on. Talon let out one more sigh as he reached down and picked up the Jack Russell and set her on his lap. She didn't care what was happening anymore as Talon started scratching her belly, one of her back legs shaking as a result.
"You can do it." Einhart whispered
"Hmm?" Talon turned his head toward the doctor, "What did you say Doc?"
A serious look spread across Einhart's face as his gaze shot toward Talon, "Talon, I don't know much about military strategy or how to lead people. But I do know that you, and only you right now, can get us out of this mess."
Talon stared at Einhart for a couple seconds before erupting with laughter, "Ha, that's a good one Doc. Me? Commanding a ship full of people? And in the middle of a massive crisis? That's funny."
He took a quick look at Einhart to find that he still had the serious look ingrained on his face, Talon's laughter died almost immediately, " . . . You're not joking, are you?"
Einhart shook his head, "Nein, I am not. I truly believe that you have the ability to be a great leader."
Talon scoffed as he turned back toward the bar, "I'm no leader Doc, I am a soldier. You put a gun in my hand, and I will kill. Give me a Titan, and I will charge an enemy stronghold. But you give me another life to hold in my hands, and I . . . I . . ."
"You protect them with everything you've got." Einhart finished for him. Talon looked back to the scientist, surprised at what he said, "I've seen your battle reports, you've charged into heavy fire in order to pull out a single man, a Grunt who survived that battle because of you. You've refused several spots on evacuation transports just so you could fit a couple more civilians into it. You once stayed behind after an evacuation to carry an injured Pilot several miles away to a secondary evacuation site. And then back on Meni II, you delayed a transport from taking off by attaching a Satchel Charge to the pilot's seat. Why? To rescue two Grunts."
A confused look crossed Talon's face, "What do those have to do with anything? There is a big difference between pulling someone's ass out of the line of fire and taking command of a ship that is in critical condition!"
"This is true." Einhart replied calmly, "However, you have a natural instinct to protect those around you, even if you have to disregard your own personal safety. You have those cybernetic limbs because of your recklessness to protect other people!"
"I can be a soldier, I can try my best to save people in the combat zone, but I can't be a leader! I . . . I just can't be my father. I wasn't born to lead like him. I don't have what it takes." Talon's shoulders sagged as his head hanged lazily over the bar.
Einhart smiled gently as he placed a hand on Talon's shoulder, "Leaders aren't born, they are made. And they are made just like anything else, through hard work. And that's the price you'll have to pay to achieve that goal, or any goal." Talon turned his gaze to the doctor, "Don't be your father, be you. Don't lead people as your father did, lead them how you think they should be lead. And give it your all, because at the end of this road we're on now, whether we perish or survive, at least you know that you tried your damnedest and did something."
Talon remained silent for a couple minutes before sitting up straight, the same serious look from Einhart was now ingrained on Talon's face, "You really think I can lead these men and women? I don't think I seem very favorable in their eyes right now.."
Einhart continued to smile as he removed his hand from Talon's shoulder, "Effective leadership is not about making speeches or being liked; leadership is defined by results, not attributes."
A smirk crossed the Colonel's face, "Who said those?"
Einhart brought his hand to his chin,"I believe it was . . . Vince Lombardi and Peter Drucker, in that order."
"Never heard of them." Talon replied as he stood up from his stool and made his way to the exit, "Come on Jackie, you're gonna be my morale support."
Einhart watched him go with a proud smile, but that smile turned to a look of confusion when he saw Talon going the wrong way. He hurried after him, when he got to the doorway, he called out to Talon, "The bridge is the other way you know."
Talon laughed, "You said to lead them how I think they should be lead, right?" Einhart nodded and Talon continued as he gestured to his officer's uniform, "Well, I'm not gonna lead them in . . . this. I need something more comfy."
Einhart's smile returned as he saw the growing leader disappear around the corner, "He'll do good . . . I know it."
As he was about to head back to the lab, Einhart noticed that the bottle of brandy was still in his hand. On a whim, he took a quick sniff before taking a small sip. After smacking his lips together, he took another look at the bottle before responding with a simple 'hmm', and went back to the labs, bottle in hand.
10 minutes later . . .
Talon stepped on to the bridge, snuggly in his old Pilot uniform, (which he loved so much more than that officer uniform), with his helmet in hand. His faithful companion Jackie stood at attention right at his side. The chaos on the bridge hadn't lessened in his absence, but it seem to have grown even worse than before which was a small surprise to him. He started to have second thoughts but quickly pushed those out of his mind. He needed to do this. If he didn't, then he would regret it for the rest of his days. From the moment he stepped out of the lounge, he had been formulating a plan. It was probably a bad one but it was all he had. First he had to get everyone's attention.
Before he tried that, he noticed a familiar face standing in the center of the room, issuing orders. Or a better way of putting it was that they were trying to issue orders but the chaos was just overwhelming. It seemed that there was just yelling and no solution making. "God, I sure hope this half-assed plan of mine gets some results."
Talon walked over to the one trying to establish some semblance of order, "Hey Trev, you trying to steal my job?"
Trevor whipped around at the sound of his friend's voice, a furious look on his face, "Talon! Where the fuck have you been?! It's utter chaos here! Since you left, no one else has bothered to step up!"
The Colonel put a hand on his friend's shoulder, "I had some . . . issues I needed to sort out, alright? I have a plan, a poor one but a plan none the less. It probably won't work if I am by myself, so I need your help. Can I count on your support?"
"I . . . uh . . . What?" Was all that Trevor managed to get out, stunned by the calmness of his friend.
Talon smiled and slapped Trevor on the shoulder for encouragement, "Excellent, good to have you on board. First things first, I need your gun."
"What why? What happened your brother's B3?" Trevor asked, gesturing to the empty holster on Talon's leg.
"I . . ." Talon rubbed the back of his head out of embarrassment, "I kind of left it back at the hospital. Forget it on the way out."
Trevor sighed at first but smiled as he reached in large pouch resting on his leg, "At least you can admit it."
Talon was surprised that Trevor pull out a B3 Wingman out of the pouch; his brother's B3. Trevor tossed the hand cannon to Talon, "Grabbed it on the way out, I was gonna give it back to you once we reached the ship but . . . Just take better care of your stuff, alright? I like the Pilot uniform more, it suits you."
Talon's hand brushed lightly over the weapon, he thought he had lost this precious item, it was the last thing that he had of his brother. Talon nodded, flipped off the safety and fired a single shot into the ceiling.
The sound of the gunshot caused everyone to drop what they were doing and jerked toward the sound. A few people dropped to the ground, their hands covering their heads, others drew their own weapons and aimed them at the source. Most of the bridge crewmembers merely tensed up, wondering if the pressure finally caused someone to snap and go crazy.
Once Talon was sure all eyes were on him, he holstered his weapon and clapped his hands together, "Alright ladies and gentleman, I'm sure you all despise me right now but-."
A crewmember Talon didn't recognize stepped forward to challenge him, "You can say that again! You might as well left us for dead. Why in the hell should we listen to you now?! It's obvious that you're in no position to take command!"
A couple murmurs of agreement could be heard throughout the room. Talon sighed, the crew member was right. He wasn't in a position to lead and there was no reason for anyone on this ship to listen to his orders expect on his rank of Colonel alone. "You're right, I'm not in any position to take command. But, someone has to. And if you think you're in that position, then by all means. sit in that chair if you think you're ready for the responsibility that comes with it, sir."
The challenging crewmember opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. Clenching his fists, the man took a step back and moved his gaze to the ground out of shame. Seeing no more resistance from the man, Talon gestured to everyone around the room, "Does anyone want claim the responsibility of getting us out of this massive shit storm?"
After a couple seconds of complete silence, Talon continued, "No? Then everybody shut the hell up. I'm not asking you to like me or anything, but I am ordering all of you to do exactly as I say for the unforeseeable future. Understood?"
A few quiet 'yes sirs' came up from around the room. Unsatisfied, Talon shouted, "Griffin Corps, am I understood?!"
Most of the bridge crew stood at attention with salutes as most of them replied with, "Sir, yes sir!"
"Alright, everyone to your stations!" As everybody was running to their stations, Talon pulled Trevor to the side and nervously asked, "How am I doing?"
"Well. . ." Trevor started, "If you wanted everyone to hate you, job well done. How are you holding up?"
Talon looked back to the crewmember he had practically publicly shamed, "Well, I feel like I just punched a puppy in the face about ten times and I'm starting to get wobbly legs, other than that, terrified."
As Talon made his way over to the captain's chair, he set his helmet to the side and pulled his personal data pad and started rapidly typing on it. When he finished, he sent out what he had typed to all the nearby consoles, it was merely a list:
Life Support
Engines
Communications
Combat Systems
"Alright folks, what you see in front of you a list of things we need to prioritize. There's that saying . . . oh what was it?" Talon began to rap his knuckles on his head, "Something about chasing two something, and both getting away?"
"If you chase two rabbits, you will not catch either one?" Trevor chimed in.
Talon snapped his fingers, "Yeah, that's the one. If we try to focus on everything at once, we aren't gonna get anything done. This list prioritizes what I believe needs to be up and running in order. If any of you were focusing on Engines, Communications or Combat Systems, change your priority to the top of the list. However, if you were working on other, such as coordinating the rescue of trapped crew members, getting our sensors back online, or anything along those lines, keep doing what you're doing, but a majority of our manpower should be focused on what I have listed."
A female crewmember off to Talon's right spoke up,"No disrespect sir, but shouldn't we prioritize restoring our communications over our engines so we can call for help?"
Talon nodded but replied with, "I thought that too but we have no idea where the hell we are, if we get our communications up and running and start calling who ever is closest for help, we may not like who responds. I would like the ability to escape in case such a thing happens. Okay, give me the status on our life support systems." Talon lowered his datapad and waited for an answer.
"Life support systems are at one hundred percent, sir. After the reboot was complete, it reactivated without any trouble." Talon looked this time to a male crewmember to his left as he continued, "We managed to have a technician look at it just in case, it seems to have been untouched by whatever happened to us."
Talon sighed, "Best news I have heard all day." He crossed 'Life Support' off the list and moved on, "What's going on with the engines? Do we have any functionality at all? And on that note, what's the status on our Jump Core?"
"Well . . .", Talon looked left again to see the scrawny man from before who dislocated his shoulder.
"Lay it on me." Talon prompted the man.
"Well, it might be better if you see for yourself." With a couple taps on his screen, he sent the data to Talon's datapad.
A irritated look appeared on Talon's face, "What the status on our Jump Core? Answer: We don't fucking have a Jump Core!"
Apparently, after the Jump where the core managed to get to three thousand percent charge, which was only possible in theory two hours ago, it commenced the Jump. As a result of a three thousand percent charge, the Jump Core vaporized itself and anyone who had been caught in the room. Luckily, the Jump Core was in a room below the engine room behind reinforced steel sheets and there usually weren't more than ten people in the Jump Core, not to mention that everyone was suppose to be in combat positions, bringing the amount of people suppose to be that room down to two technicians. But there was still the possibility someone was caught in it, and nobody would know until they got a full head count.
On a more positive note, while the engines had taken quite a bit of damage, they weren't torn to shreds. With a little elbow grease and at least forty-eight hours of non-stop maintenance, they should be able to get them working again at least somewhat. However, they were going to have to dock at a spaceport for a full repair of the engines, and just about everything else for that matter. Although, repairing the engines would have to come later. According to reports, there were large amounts of debris everywhere in the engine room and some of the debris had people trapped underneath them. While the priority was to get the engines back up and running, potentially having some more people help the fix the engines would go a long way.
"How's the situation with rescuing the crew members trapped under the debris?" Talon asked around, hoping that someone had been keeping track of it.
"It's incredibly slow sir." Talon rotated the chair around to face the crew member whose station was near the bridge entrance, "We are spread thin as it is, so we only have ten personnel in the engine room attempting rescue with some Marvin assistance. If they had some heavy duty equipment, it might go a little faster but . . ."
Talon brought two fingers to each each of his temples as he began to message them, trying to think of something. The most obvious option was to try and get more people to the engine room to try and help out but as the crew member said, they were already spread thin, his options were limited. If they could get some heavy duty equipment such as forklifts or even a . . . Talon had a sudden thought.
"Wait a second, this ship has a large maintenance hallway that goes from end to end, right? To allow for maintenance crew quick movement throughout the ship?" Talon asked.
The crew member nodded back, "Yes sir, two in fact."
With the quick tap of a button on the captain's chair, a holographic interface popped up in front of him. After a quick login process, Talon suddenly had access to the entire ship along with the information that came with it, "Why the hell wasn't I using this earlier?"
He quickly found the maintenance hallways on the 3D map, with a couple more taps, he had the data he needed, the dimensions of the hallway. The hallway had cargo elevators in several locations as well, in case they needed to move some heavy duty equipment or cargo. One of these elevators ran up to the engine room, while another one ran up to what he was hoping for, the Titan Storage racks. His plan was to send a couple Atlas Titans down the hallway to the cargo elevator for the engine room, not only could they help with the rescue of the trapped crew members but they could assist with repairs as well.
"Someone find me three Pilots now, connect them to my console as soon as you can." A minute went by before all three Pilots were connected with him, their profile pictures popping up on his holographic console.
Luckily, he recognized all three of the Pilots. Master Sergeant Dion, the chocolate skinned man who trained Talon and his brother. Then there was Specialist Dolton, a man with a heavy Irish accent who was apart of Wraith Squad (the Pilot squad Talon often snuck out with). Finally, there was First Lieutenant Vera, squad leader of Longshot, and the woman who held the Militia's longest confirmed kill.
"Pilots, I need you three to head to the Titan Storage racks, and get into a Atlas Titan. Take the cargo elevator down to the maintenance hallway, then take another elevator up to the engine room. We have people trapped under some heavy debris so I need you guys to assist with rescue of any trapped crew members. Once all crew members have been rescued, your new task will be to assist with the repairs of the engines. All you need to do is the heavy lifting while the repair crew does the actual fixing. Can you do that?"
"Da, en route to Titan Storage racks." With that, Vera's picture disappeared.
"On route as soon as this idiot's knee relocated." Talon heard the scream of a man followed shortly by, "On my way Cap'n." Dalton's picture disappeared as well.
"So how does it feel issuing orders to everyone?" Dion asked.
"Weird." Talon simply replied, nervously rubbing his neck, "Especially since I'm ordering you around of all people."
A deep laugh came through the speakers, "Just don't make a habit of it commander, heading to Titan Storage now."
Once Dion's picture vanished, Talon announced to the crew, "If any of you didn't hear, our main priority right now is the rescue those trapped in the engine room. Once that has been accomplished, we will turn of efforts to restoring power to the engines themselves. So if you still have people working on restoring our communications or weapon systems, get them to the engine room. Even if they have no experience with repairing the engines, they can still help with manual labor."
A woman walked up to Talon and saluted before speaking, "Sir, the Chief Medical Officer needs to have a word with you."
Talon nodded, "Patch them through to my console."
The woman nodded before tapping a couple buttons on her datapad and then returned to her seat. A live video popped up of a woman in her mid-sixties with graying-brown hair had a concerned look, the name D. Elton was printed on her uniform "Colonel Talon . . . so you're in charge now? I heard someone had taken charge but I didn't know it was you. You have my condolences about your father, rest assured that he is in good hands."
Talon nodded once again, "Thank you Doctor Elton, that means a lot to me. Now, what did you need?"
"Two main problems, we are way over capacity here in the medical bay and we have run out of a basic necessity, pain killers. We were supposed to get restocked on basic medical supplies back on Kevan 4 but . . ."
"Understood. Hmm . . . the medical bay is right next to the primary hanger bay, why not expand into that?" Talon suggested.
"Well," The Medical Officer began with a little anger in her voice, "We need authorization for that from the ship's commanding officer, but since there was none to ask, we've been making due."
Talon let out a nervous laugh, "Ha . . . yeah sorry, I had some things I needed to deal with. You have my authorization to move some of your lesser wounded into the primary hanger bay. From now on, don't bother asking, just do what you need to. But there is still the problem with the meds."
"We don't necessarily need them, but it helps the ones with more severe wounds rest easier."
The Colonel began scratching his chin, "Yeah, sorry Doc. You're gonna have to . . ."
Talon stared at his hand, his gaze slowly moved to his shoulder where the cybernetics met his flesh and bone. Another idea popped into his head, "Wait a moment, contact Doctor Einhart. His main field is cybernetic enhancement but patients with new cybernetic limbs would often experience pain major pain with their new limbs. Pain killers were commonly used to dull the pain for them. Ask him if he has anymore in storage anywhere."
"Thank you commander." She was about to terminate the video connection when she paused for a moment, "I'll notify you immediately if anything changes on your father's condition."
"Thank you, if you have any other requests or problems, let me know." Talon terminated the video and rubbed his eyes, "This is gonna be a long day."
"Excuse me, sir?"
Talon opened his eyes to a Grunt in standing at attention in front of him, "At ease soldier, what do you need?"
"I'm Sergeant First Class Daniel, I've been working with some others in attempt to restore our Sensor array to try and get our bearings. In short sir, it's hopeless. Our sensor array took a direct hit just before we Jumped, we need to get it replaced when we manage to find a friendly spaceport."
Talon nodded, "Understood. You're dismissed, head to the engine room, we need some more people down there."
Daniel saluted once more before leaving. Talon leaned back in the chair and groaned. Without their sensors, they were literally flying blind. While they still had the use of line-of-sight, that wasn't going to tell them if a ship was sneaking up on them where they couldn't see. There were a limited number of windows, with them being structural weaknesses. Not only that, without their sensors, they couldn't figure out where they were. However, if they were to get their communications back up, they might be able to have some clue as to where they are by piecing together radio transmissions they pick up. But if he switched the priority to communications instead of engines, and they were found by the IMC first, then they all would be completely at their mercy, and that was something no one on a Militia ship wanted.
"Of course!"
Talon practically jumped off out his chair at Trevor's sudden voice. Trevor's face lit up with a smile, "Talon, I have an idea on how to fix our problem of flying blind. I have to go check myself but it's a possible solution! Give me fifthteen minutes and I'll let you know if it's possible or not!"
Talon hadn't seen Trevor this excited in quite a while since there were very few things that could get him this excited. The Colonel rose an eyebrow, "Well, if it's a possible solution, why are you still here?"
Trevor practically flew out the door, nearly hitting a crew member as they came running onto the bridge. As the time passed, more and more problems were brought up to Talon and he dealt with them as best he could. But through the endless amount of requests coming to him, he noticed something. There was still the same amount of yelling as when he first walked onto the bridge, but instead it being complete and utter chaos, it had been slightly reduced to only mostly complete and utter chaos. Despite how small the change was, it was still an improvement which meant that they were gaining traction.
Twenty minutes had passed and Talon was starting to get impatient with Trevor. However, right below Talon was about to contact him, Trevor beat him to the punch, "Talon!"
Once again, the Colonel jumped at his friend's voice, this time it originated from the speakers on the chair near his head. Talon let out an irritated sigh, "Stop surprising me! So, what do you have? Is your idea going to work?"
"Yes. So our problem right now is our sensors are completely screwed up." Trevor said, stating the obvious.
"Yeah, one of our many problems. Get to your idea already." Talon prompted.
"Well, our Hornet fighters come with their own sensor package. So I was thinking-"
"We take apart some of the Hornet's sensors and jury rig them to our ship?" Talon finished.
"No, that would take time. I recommend that we set up a perimeter of Hornets around the ship. This solves two of our problems at once, we have a limited view of what's around us and in case we get into trouble, we have some Hornets already deployed to protect us. While their sensors have a much shorter range, it's better than nothing."
Talon was nodding his head slightly, "Yeah. Yeah, it might take too much time to jury rig something. Alright, Trevor, I need you to manage this. I have too much on my plate as it is. I need you to scrounge up any Hornet pilots you can. Make a schedule. I want three eight hour shifts, three rotations per day. You have my authorization to pull the flyboys away from whatever they are doing, leave the wounded out of it. Get it done."
"Understood, I should be able to have the first patrol up in a couple hours. Trevor out."
When Trevor's picture disappeared, Talon ran his hands through his hair. All of this he was doing now, it was only the beginning. He had only taken his first few steps on this road he was walking down. There were going to be a few sleepless nights in the near future along with a seemingly endless stream of problems that he had to take care of. In a way, Talon felt that he was now the father of this ship, and everyone on it was now part of his family. And even though some of them may hate his guts, he was going to protect them all. Whatever was thrown his way, he was going to protect them. Whether it be from another system malfunction, more supplies shortages, or even an attack from the IMC, he was going to do everything he could to protect those aboard this ship. Because if he didn't, no one would.
Talon took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "Alright, what's next?"
45 hours later . . .
"Sir?"
Talon stirred slightly in his sleep, but did not awake. The crew member was at a loss at what to do. He had some information for his commander but from what he had heard, the Colonel refused to get a wink of sleep until the situation was under control. While the situation's severity had been significantly reduced, new problems have continued to pop up. However, with the situation cooled down enough that other bridge crew members, with nothing on their plate, could take some of the more minor tasks off their commander. For once in the past forty-five hours since Talon had taken command of the situation, he had nothing on his plate for a couple minutes. And within the first minute of having nothing to do, he leaned back in his chair and instantly fell asleep.
The bridge doors hissed open and in walked Trevor, helmet in one hand and cup of fresh coffee in the other. He sauntered over to his sleeping friend and winked at the crew member trying to wake Talon up, "Watch this."
Trevor held the cup of coffee close to Talon's nose, moving the cup from side to side and allowing the smell of it to enter through Talon's nasal passages. Talon shifted again, this time a loud yawn erupted from him causing a chain reaction of more yawns from around the room. The Colonel's eyes slowly fluttered open, blinking rapidly until he adjusted to the sudden amount light now entering his eyes.
"Coffee." Talon took the fresh cup and brought the brown liquid to his lips. He kept on drinking until the cup was only half as full than it originally was. Suddenly, Talon shot straight up out of his seat and seemed a lot more awake than he did a few seconds ago, "Coffee coffee coffee. Coffee! It's not as strong as methamphetamine, but it lets you keep your teeth."
Trevor was trying not to laugh but was failing horribly, "I think that coffee is a bit stronger than methamphetamine."
Talon took another sip while eyeballing his friend, "You spiked my coffee with Stim, didn't you?"
Trevor smiled, "You looked like you needed it."
The crew member was shocked, "Isn't Stim incredibly dangerous? I heard a story about a Grunt who put two drops in his coffee and he couldn't sleep for a week."
Talon laughed at the memory, "Oh yeah, what the hell was his name. Started with a B, uh . . . Bill . . . Ben . . ." Talon snapped his fingers, "Burnie, that was his name. I warned him not to but . . . well, you know the rest."
Trevor decided to actually answer the question, "Pilots go through surgery when they are first initiated. One of the implants they put into you is designed to speed up your metabolism, so what ends up to be a week of no sleep for someone like you ends up as a short burst in speed and gives us a small temporary healing factor, speeds up blood clotting and stuff like that."
Talon took yet another sip as he lazily waved his hand at Trevor, "Alright, enough of this lesson." He turned toward the crew member, "Jacob, you have something to report?"
Along with dealing with an endless amount of tasks for the past forty-five hours, Talon managed to memorize most of the bridge crew on first name basis. Jacob, realizing that he was talking to his superior officer, threw up a salute, "Sorry sir, I just wanted to report that the personnel assigned to repairing the engines have reported that they have managed to repair and restore power to the engines. According to the techies, we can use the main engines, along with portside and starboard side thrusters, but there is a limit. They recommend that we keep main engine power under forty percent of maximum power. If we go over, there is a chance that the main engines could give out. The port and starboard side thrusters have no problems that they noticed. It should also be noted for the past forty-six hours, meaning since the emergency Jump, we have been at near a dead stop. Our Distortion Break was destroyed with the core when we exited the Jump, but it did its job before we lost it."
Talon had a concerned look on his face, "So we've been sitting basically in the same spot for about two days now. How come no one has found us? Even if we aren't transmitting any signals, scanners would have picked up our heat emissions. Trevor, have you been able to figure out anything about where we are?"
"Actually yes and no, that's why I came to see you." The Pilot walked over to a nearby Real-time holomap followed by his friend, and plugged a USB into the holomap. An image popped up, floating a little above the table. There were simply three that were being displayed, the Solar Spirit, a unknown Planet, and the distance between the two.
Trevor looked back up to Talon, "I found a planet."
Talon took another sip of his coffee, "Congrats. Any information about it?"
"It's inhabited."
Talon paused in the middle of his sip, surprised at what Trevor told him, "What, how do you know? And how do you know about the planet in the first place, a Hornet's sensor range couldn't have picked something up that far away?"
"Well," Trevor began, nervously rubbing the back of his head, "I might have had some egg heads and technicians jury rig one of our Hornets with some of the parts remaining from the Solar Spirit's destroyed scanner array. While the sensor range is still small compared to the Solar Spirit's, it was a lot better than a standard Hornet's. The jury rigged Hornet's sensors picked up large cluster of lifesigns concentrated in one large area, meaning it only has one city and it's a massive one. However, we don't seem to have this planet on records so we might be on the very edge of the Frontier. And the sensor didn't pick up IMC signatures so maybe they don't support them or perhaps the IMC doesn't know about this planet either."
Talon thought for a couple minutes. While the people of this planet may not support the IMC, that didn't mean that they supported the Militia. For all they knew, this little society could be an isolationist colony, shunning all contact with the outside, and maybe going so far as to destroy any outsiders that come near them. There were too many unknowns that Talon didn't like, his primary concern was the safety of everyone aboard his ship.
The Colonel began to rapidly tap on the console in front of him, he paused for moment as he rubbed his chin. Trevor sighed when his friend remained silent, "You want to fill me in on what you're planning?"
Talon didn't say a word as he continued typing, annoying Trevor all the more. Regardless of whether the planet supported the IMC or not, that planet was their only hope right now. Talon planned to have the ship move toward the planet but remain a fair distance away when they arrived for two reasons. They didn't know how big the gravity well of the planet was and the last thing they wanted to happen was their ship being pulled down due to a miscalculation and gravity. The other reason if they were to moved too close to the planet, the inhabitants might see their arrival as a possible attack. But right now, what they needed was more time, they needed time to prepare just in case things went south. After a couple more taps on the console in front of him, he looked over to the large viewport where two crew members sat at their post.
"Helmsman!" The two crew members, who were the ones actually piloting the Solar Spirit, turned back to look at Talon, "Prepare for main engine power, thirty-two point two percent of full power. If the ship did my math for me correctly, and I hope to god it did, we should be at our destination in about thirty-six hours."
Talon turned back to his friend, "I don't want to go into a situation with the possibility of a fight with a bunch of zombies on our side, these people need some sleep. And food. Prepare to fire thrusters on my word." Talon sat back down in the captain's chair and pressed a single button.
A monotone beep rang out throughout the ship through the ship's PA system, "Attention everyone, this is your commander speaking, in the next twenty-seven hours, I want everyone to get at least eight hours of sleep. You've all been working round the clock with little sleep, and because of you all, we've brought this ship back to minimal functionality. And for that, you have my thanks. But it isn't over yet. In thirty-six hours, we will be coming into contact with a unknown colony on an unknown planet. Scans show that the planet is inhabited and have not picked up any IMC signatures meaning that it is possible that they do not support the IMC. However it is still possible that this colony may prove hostile toward us. In that time, we need to get whatever we can ready in case it does turn out to be a fight. Get some rest Griffin Corps, we may be down but certainly not out. One hour before contact, I want everyone in battle positions. Colonel Ryker out."
Talon switched off the PA system and turned his attention back toward the viewport, "Helmsman, commence acceleration."
A moment later the ship began to shake as its main engines and thrusters roared back to life. Once the shaking subsided after a half minute, Talon turned his attention back to the holomap as it began to calculate the estimated time of arrival which eventually settled on: 35H 57M.
Another female crew member approached Talon with a salute, "Sir, I got the data you requested. Should I transfer it to your personal datapad?"
Talon nodded as he pulled the device out of a compartment from the captain's chair. A moment later, it beeped letting Talon know the data had been received. The data itself was simple but retrieving was the complex part. Talon looked it over carefully, while he wasn't exactly happy by the data, it could have certainly been worse.
Solar Spirit Personnel:
Total Personnel: 556
Current Wounded: 201
(43 Crew, 107 Military, 51 Civilian)
Military Personnel: 245
(Pilot: 30, Grunt: 215)
Solar Spirit Crew: 174
Civilian: 137
(Medical Staff: 107, Other: 30)
KIA: 47
"The only reason why we've gotten as much repairs done as we have is largely thanks to the Marvins." Talon nodded in agreement, MARVIN Automated Assistants, also known simply as Marvins, certainly had their uses. Being able to perform a large selection of tasks, even in hazardous conditions. However they lacked the ability to handle tasks that required a large amount of physical labor unless they had the proper tools.
Talon looked behind his shoulder to see Trevor reading on it, "What worries me is how much military personnel we have. This ship is designed to carry two and a half thousand soldiers on a regular basis. Now, we're down to about a tenth of our regular fighting force, and some of them are wounded bringing it down further. You know what that means, don't you?"
Talon nodded with a grim look, "If we locked into a battle of attrition, we will lose, even with Spectre support. No two ways about it, we will lose."
At that moment, Talon's stomach decided to announce to the entire bridge that it required sustenance. Talon put a hand on his stomach, "Maybe having Stim spiked Coffee before a battle on a empty stomach was not a bright idea."
"Mess hall?" Trevor asked.
"Yeah, and on that note." Talon turned back to Jacob, "Hey, that thing I talked to you earlier about. Make it happen. Also, assign most of the repair crew to fixing our weapons but send a small group to make sure our communications have minimal functionality before we get to the planet. Be sure to have them rotate with others so they can get some rest as well. They deserve it."
Jacob saluted Talon once more before rushing back to his station. Trevor was curious once again, but he already knew that he wasn't going to get anything out of Talon until he showed him his plan. So without a word, he followed the Colonel down to the mess hall. Trevor was shocked to see at least fifty people already waiting there. However, they didn't seem to be waiting for food and all of them had one thing in common, they were injured in some way. Some had bandages wrapped around their head, others were leaning on a crutch to take pressure off of an injured leg. Some others had an arm in a cast as well while most of them had bandages on their upper body instead of something like a shirt. When Talon cleared his throat, the chatter amongst the injured personnel died down.
"Alright people." Talon announced to everyone as he clapped his hands together, "We all know why we are here, I thank you for volunteering despite whatever injuries you may have acquired. While you guys may not be able to do heavy lifting or anything strenuous, making food for your fellow soldiers and crew members is something you can definitely do."
Talon changed his posture to one of a officer addressing his subordinates, "Alright men, our objective in the next couple hours is to create enough food and coffee for approximately five hundred and fifty people. Men and women of Griffin Corps, are you up for the challenge?"
Every member of the crowd gave Talon a full salute making him feel a little more confident, "Alright, let's get to it!"
The crowd of people, with Talon at the front, funneled into the large kitchen. Trevor stood motionless for a moment while everyone moved into the kitchen. A chuckle escaped from him as he started to roll up his sleeves, "From Pilot, to ship captain, to head chef. He's gonna have one hell of a resume."
Talon quickly divided up work among the group. The ones who couldn't move around as fast were assigned to boiling coffee, those with lacking the use of one of their arms took on making simple soups, the rest set up multiple manual production lines of sandwiches. Trevor and a few others left the kitchen to grab carts that were left unattended and brought them back to make transporting the goods around the ship easier. An hour after they began, the first wave of food was ready to be sent out. Other crew members and soldiers who had wandered into the mess hall looking for a snack offered to take the carts of food and coffee around the ship in exchange for getting first servings. It wasn't long after that a small routine had been established: the carts of food and coffee would be delivered around the ship and would return to the mess kitchen when empty. An hour and a half into making and delivering the food and coffee, Talon found himself without anything to do again. The people working the food and coffee prep stations had become autonomous after getting the routine down to a T, he had to no longer communicate between the groups since they all knew what to do now without exchanging any words.
Then he heard something that made him feel warm inside, laughter, genuine laughter. The people in the mess kitchen were laughing as they went about their duties, telling the occasional joke to one another or reminiscing about memories of basic training or some pranks they used to play on another. It felt like it had been years since he heard laughter like this. Being part of the Militia didn't leave a lot of time for fun and games. All Talon could do was smile. Moments like these should be treasured in their line of work. You never know when a stray bullet could end it all for you or one of your friends.
Talon was brought out of his trance by a hand being placed on his shoulder. Standing beside him was his old Drill Sergeant, Dion. The chocolate skinned man let out a small laugh, "I should have figured you were the one to set this up."
"Well, I'm not going to let my crew starve to death. That's just screams the vibe 'shitty leader'," Talon replied as he scanned the kitchen, wondering if any new problems had arisen.
Dion patted Talon on the back, "Well commander, I'm relieving you of your position of head chef. You said everyone needs to get eight hours of sleep, at least, that 'everyone' includes you."
At the mention of the word sleep, Talon let out yawn, the effects of the coffee and the Stim having worn off a while ago. Talon trying to think of a reason not to but none came up. Nothing required his attention at the moment. Any small problems that popped up could be handled by the bridge crew, and if something big did pop up they could just wake him. His current orders were to get some sleep and repair as much as you can which would be fine until they reached the planet (judging if nothing else major happened until then). Plus, food and drink were circulating throughout the ship, bringing nourishment to those who needed it. Their engines were propelling them to where they needed to go. And it seemed life support wouldn't fail on them anytime soon. He couldn't think of anything else he needed to take of, so he conceded.
Talon nodded his head slightly as he yawned once more, "You're right. I'll go get some shut eye. There is one more thing I need to do before that."
After grabbing one of the carts that had been brought in and abandoned, Talon filled it up to the edges with plates of sandwiches, bowls of various soups, and two canisters of coffee with plenty of styrofoam cups. Talon brought the cart full of goodies up to the bridge, he wasn't sure if any of them had gotten any food so he wanted to make sure they weren't hungry. Also, it was his way of saying sorry for being a bit of a prick when he assumed command but it was necessary at the time.
The bridge door hissed open as the cart approached and closed with another hiss when Talon was clear of the doorway. The sound of one of the cart's wheels rattling against the metallic floor drew everyone's attention which made it easier for Talon to have everyone's attention when he started speaking.
He wheeled the cart up next to the captain's chair before addressing the crew, "I know that I was a bit of an . . . asshole and I apologize for that. We were in a state of emergency and I had to get things done, one way or another. But I brought food and coffee in case any of you haven't had any yet and as a peace offering."
"I . . ." Talon began after a short pause, "I don't have any experience of leading a group of more than ten people. Two days ago was the first time I had a entire ship under my command. I'm still learning so if you could put up with this idiot commander's choices for just a little longer, I'll do my best to make sure every man and woman on this ship sees their friends and family again, those that are still with us. I have no hidden motives or goals, all I want is for you all to safely get back home, and until that happens, that is my only objective."
Talon stood silently in the middle of room under everyone's gaze, unsure of what to do next. His hand nervously ran through his hair as he waited for someone, anyone, to say something.
"I'm with you sir."
The fledgling commander turned to see Jacob standing up from his chair, saluting at Talon, "Whatever you need, I'll help."
"S-same here." Eric, the scrawny man from before, was standing and saluting as well, "You don't have to handle everything yourself."
Slowly, one by one, each crew member stood up and saluted him. At the end of it, there was one person left sitting, the man who had challenged Talon when he assumed command. The man looked from side to side at his fellow crew members before he stood up with a sigh. The man gave Talon a salute but added, "I still hate your guts . . . sir."
Pride and confidence filled Talon as he returned the salute to his crew, "I swear on my life that I will get us all back home."
"We know, sir." Jacob responded.
"And now, so does the entire ship." Talon's gaze shot to the captain's chair only to find it empty. Or was it? Looking closer, Talon could see a faint silhouette leaning back in his chair. A Militia Pilot blinked into existence, the words D. Beckett were stitched into his uniform.
"What the hell are you doing Dalton?" Talon asked, slightly angry that the Pilot broke up a proud moment for himself.
"It was Trevor's idea." The Militia pointed down to his hand which was lying on the chair's armrest, with a finger on one button, the PA system.
The door hissed open as Dalton stood up from the chair and Trevor walked in with a grin, "If the crew wasn't behind you before, now they are."
Trevor walked over and put a hand on Talon's shoulder, "One of the greatest things that can motivate a soldier to fight is knowing that his commander loves him like a brother. Having the trust of your subordinates helps get things done."
Talon was . . . grateful. He didn't know how he was going to address the rest of the crew but with Trevor and Dalton's help, everything that needed to be said was said to everyone. He could only hope that the rest of the crew were now behind him one hundred percent for the time being.
Talon looked around to see that the bridge crew were still saluting him and they probably weren't going to stop unless he left the room or he told the to relax, "Everyone, at ease. Back to work, we have a lot that needs to be done."
Trevor slid his arm around Talon's shoulders and pulled him off the bridge, "All that you need to do right now is get some sleep. Dion told me that I was to show you to your room."
"Relax Trevor, I was going to get some sleep anyway." Talon shrugged of his friend's arm and stretched as he let out a yawn, "Sensors pick up anything else?"
"N- . . ." Trevor stopped himself, apparently thinking something over before continuing, "No, they haven't."
Talon placed a firm hand on his friend's chest, stopping him in place, "Trevor, don't lie to me. If there is a potential threat, I need to know to know about it. No two ways about it."
"It's just . . ." Trevor started, trying to pick his words carefully, "Our Hornet's scanner might have picked up something following us."
Talon motioned for him to continue, Trevor finally gave in,"Well, we picked it up about half an hour ago. It appeared behind us and closed the distance to a thousand kilometers. It's currently maintaining this distance and it's maintaining our speed perfectly. I had the helmsman change our speed slightly a few times and it matched us within a second."
Trevor groaned in pain when Talon slugged him in the shoulder, "You're saying for thirty minutes, this thing suddenly showed up on radar, closed the distance between us, and is currently following us? And I'm now just hearing about it?! Has it tried communicating with us? Can you tell what class of ship it is? Anything?"
"Our jury rigged scanner can only do so much you know. It hasn't tried contacting us, not that we can tell anyways with our communications down, and scans show no signs of life so it's a automated ship. It's bigger than us but smaller than a Large Space Tanker, such as the Annapolis. The shape . . .," Trevor paused for a moment, trying to figure how to describe, "The ship's shape is unlike any ship we have on records. The ship is shaped like . . . well without a better word, an egg. Without our usual scanners, we can't get a more detailed scan so we don't have that much to go off of. But . . . something feels wrong. Like it's watching us, observing us."
Talon threw his arms up in annoyance, "Great, now I'm paranoid."
The Colonel leaned up against the wall, thinking of what to do. A minute passed by before he decided what to do, "I want every Hornet we have ready to launch at a moment's notice. If that thing is even an inch closer, I want to know the second it does. If I wake up and we're under attack by it, I'm gonna hang your ass on my wall."
Trevor laughed, "You should be a interior decorator. Don't worry. I'll wake you the moment something happens, you can trust me on that."
"Alrighty then, glad we got that sorted out." Talon pushed himself off the wall as he resumed walking down the hall to his room.
The door to his personal room hissed open. Jackie was already asleep on his bed; a mostly empty bowl sat in the corner with another bowl that contained water. The room itself was largely undecorated: a queen sized bed took up a good chunk of the room, the work desk took up another chunk of the room as well leaving little room for anything else. Luckily, the bed frame itself was a dresser, allowing Talon to save up on space a little. A closed door sat at the opposite side of the room from the entrance. Behind it was his own personal bathroom (which he loved having). He used to take personal bathrooms for granted until he signed up with the Militia. One of Talon's additions to the room was a hardwood nightstand that sat beside the bed. Up on it was two pictures,: one of his family back at their home on Apep (when times were different) and the other was of Yurika teasing him (which was taken by his brother when he was still around). The only other thing in his room lay hidden on the other side of his bed; the tool kit he used to clean and keep his robot limbs in top condition.
Talon turned back to Trevor before his door closed, "Wake me in exactly eight hours, alright? I'm serious here."
Trevor held his hands up, "I understand, just get some sleep already. And maybe take a shower when you wake up. A shower never hurt anybody . . . well, unless they slipped and fell in the shower."
As soon as the door hissed closed, Talon removed his tactical vest followed by the Kevlar. He then trudged over to his bed and fell face first into it. He considered pulling out his datapad and setting an alarm on it but decided not to, thinking, "Ah, he'll wake me up. I should have more faith in Trevor."
17 hours later . . .
The first thing Talon felt when he awoke was anger, he knew that he had slept well over eight hours. He pushed himself up from the bed, mumbling, "I'm gonna go kill that bastard."
Jackie's ears perked up at the sound of her master. The dog let out a drawn out yawn as she stretched her limbs waking them up. Once she felt fully awake, Jackie hopped off the bed and went to her corner which contained her mostly eaten food and water bowl. Talon watched her as he too stretched; his spinal cord popping in a few places as he did. He ran a couple fingers through his hair to find it greasy enough for him to want to take a quick shower. Talon tossed his Pilot uniform onto the bed and ran into the bathroom. Four minutes later he came running back out. He quickly put on a pair of fresh underwear and socks before he clothed himself in his Pilot's uniform once again. Once his brother's sidearm was secured in its holster on Talon's leg, he sprinted out to the door to go punch someone in the face. Jackie, now fully awake, sprinted after Talon and managed to make it out the door just before it hissed shut.
It didn't take him long to reach the bridge since his room wasn't that far from it. Once the door hissed open, Talon looked for his friend to find him sipping coffee near the viewport, staring down at his datapad. He noticed that most of the bridge personnel that he had seen at their stations when he left had swapped with another crewmember. Most likely to get some more food or take a much needed rest.
Talon stomped his way over, "Trevor!"
Trevor nonchalantly took another sip of coffee, "Oh, Talon, sleep well?"
"I'm gonna assign you to latrine duty, I swear to god I will." Talon jabbed Trevor's chest with a finger, "Why the hell didn't you wake me up after eight hours?! You said you would!"
"Nope, all I said is that I understood you and to get some sleep, nothing about doing what you said." Trevor replied before taking yet another sip. He held the mug out to Talon, "Coffee? Stim free."
Talon rubbed his temples, "What's the point of being your superior if you don't listen? Just . . ." He sighed, conceding when he realized that he wasn't going to get anywhere with Trevor on this matter, "Anything to report, like on that thing following us?"
Trevor glanced back to his datapad, "Nope. It's still maintaining the same distant with no changes in behavior. A few other problems have popped up but they have been dealt with by yours truly. We have about thirty-seven percent of our defenses back online and working. The boys working on the communications managed to restore local communications, meaning we can talk with our Hornets. They also say that they should have the more long ranged communications up by the time we arrive. What else . . . Oh yeah, about forty-two percent of the active crew have gotten eight hours of sleep, yes, I've been keeping track. Thanks to your idea of getting some painkillers from Einhart, Doctor Elton have reported that most of her patients are resting easy now. I also had someone look at our inventory and we're pretty well stocked up on everything except some basic medical supplies. Thank god we started restocking as soon as we arrived. I have to ask, when were you planning to address the problem with our shields?"
Talon froze, "Wait, what problem?"
"Well-" Trevor took yet another sip from his coffee, "The fact that our ship shields have not been working since we made the emergency Jump."
A dumbfounded look was plastered across Talon's face, "What?"
Trevor was bewildered, "How in the hell could you forget something as important as that? I mean, the only thing it does is keep our ship from being torn apart!"
Talon threw up his arms in a mixture of anger and annoyance, "Well, I'm sorry, alright!? I've had to deal with plenty of other things in the past couple of days! I was bound to overlook something! Why didn't you do anything about it?!"
"Because I thought you were thinking of a solution to try and fix it!"
"God damn it Trevor." Talon moved over the captain's chair and pulled up the holographic interface. He was angry at Trevor just as much as he was angry at himself. Trevor was right, it didn't occur to him at all to check the status of their shielding system and not doing so was a very big mistake. It didn't occur to him to check it since Talon almost never had to deal with it as a soldier. The only time he ever dealt with shields is with Titans, but even then, in the middle of combat he never payed much attention to it. The shields were an afterthought to him in the middle of combat.
At the current moment, they had something following them that could attack at any moment and their ship had no shields. While the armor on their ship was still pretty thick, with enough time and/or firepower, their armor could be punctured. And one hole in the wrong place could lead to half the crew getting sucked into the void of space or cause the entire ship to break apart due to structural failure.
Talon quickly read over the condition of the shield generator. A glimmer of hope sparked when he noticed that a small group of technicians had been working on the shield generator since it went down. With a quick message to one of technicians, he asked if fixing the shield generator without the aid of a spaceport possible. The answer brought mixed feelings, the answer was yes but they were going to need more manpower. Even with twenty more helping hands, they were going to need another two days to maybe have it working again. He didn't want to slow down with that unknown ship tailing them, if anything, he wanted to speed up but he didn't want to risk the engines giving out. And if he started taking too many technicians away from other tasks around the ship, the progress on those would slow.
As much as he didn't want to admit it, the shields were a lost cause at this point. There were just too many other things that still needed the attention of some repairman. Talon ordered those working on the shields to switch to restoring their weapons systems; primarily their automated point defense guns which dealt with smaller enemy spacecraft.
A crew member who sat near the viewport spoke up, "Sir, we may have problem."
Talon sighed, "Time for the rest of my day to start." The commander stretched his back muscles as he asked, "What's the problem this time?"
"The unknown ship is closing in on us."
Talon froze mid stretch, " . . . Shit."
The Colonel immediately switched gears as he leaned forward in his chair, "Trevor, tell our Hornets to prep for immediate launch. Friendly or not, an increase in the number of Hornets deployed should show them that we mean business. I'm calling for battlestations."
"Understood but . . ." Trevor paused for a moment, hesitating.
Talon made eye contact with Trevor, "If you have something to say, spit it out. I am more than willing to hear what you have to say in moments like this."
"What if this automated ship isn't hostile, what if it's a scout ship for the planet we're approaching. What if by suddenly deploying more fighter craft makes them assume we're hostile and attack us as a result? What if they are simply moving closer to try and establish contact?" Trevor explained.
"What happened to that feeling of unease?" Talon questioned.
"I'm just thinking of other possibilities."
The man brought up a good point, maybe the ship had been try to contact them but with only local communications working, they couldn't pick up any of their transmissions? It was an entirely possible situation. But Trevor's entire statement was an if statement. Ifs were very dangerous in war for it meant taking risks but war was made up of risks. And something else bothered Talon, the ship approaching them was larger than his ship, and his ship was an Carrier-class warship which were generally larger than most ships with a few exceptions. Scout ships were typically made to be as small as possible to avoid enemy detection, so why would you need a scout ship larger than a Carrier-class? Unless the ship had a Cloaking function which was experimental tech for warships, there was no way a remote colony had access to that kind of tech. But there was still the possibility the ship wouldn't prove hostile and Talon wouldn't argue with a friendly reception. The ship could have been some kind of communications amplifier, meant to receive long range transmissions. Sort of like a mobile communications center.
Talon nodded slightly, "Alright, have our Hornets on standby and have them on a hair trigger."
Trevor gave Talon a quick salute before he moved over to an unoccupied console. Talon linked his fingers together and rested his nose on his hands, waiting. Thanks to some additional jury rigging on the Hornet with the enhanced sensors, which had been dubbed the 'Spyglass' by Trevor, the ship could now transmit data directly to the Solar Spirit meaning that they didn't need to hear what was happening word by word from the pilot. Talon also made a mental note when he heard the Hornet's new name to talk with Trevor and ask why the hell he named a ship after the IMC's Vice Admiral.
Beads of sweat formed on Talon's head as he watched the ship approach to exactly one hundred kilometers and held it's position.
Once the ship ceased moving closer to the Solar Spirit, Talon called out to his Comms Officer who was in charge of ship to ship communications. At the mention of their name, they swiveled around in their chair to face Talon, "Transmit a local broadcast, I want to see if I can speak with whoever is controlling that ship."
Talon waited until his Comms Officer gave the thumbs before leaning back in his chair slightly as he spoke, "Come in unidentified ship, this is Talon Ryker of the Solar Spirit. We mean you no harm."
The Colonel thought it best to leave the fact that this was a military ship that belonged to the Militia in case whoever controlled this ship was Pro-IMC. And it wasn't unnatural for civilian ships to have a fighter escort.
But no response came which set Talon a little more on edge, "Unidentified ship, can you hear me? Please respond. We are in need of assistance. Our ship has taken damage from a recent battle and we have injured on board. Can you assist us?"
Silence once again.
"Can anyone hear me? Hello?" When no one responded, Talon threw his hands into the air out of frustration. He turned toward the Comms Officer, "Are you sure we're transmitting?"
The Comms Officer nodded, "Yes sir, we do have an outgoing signal. Perhaps the issue isn't on ou-"
"Sir! We have movement!"
"Put it up on a Holo table!" Talon immediately dropped his current conversation and swiveled around in his chair when the image of the pursuing ship appeared on the nearest Holo table. Talon had to agree with Trevor on his statement from earlier, the ship was shaped like an egg. The unidentified ship's entire bow, or what he assumed was the bow, was opening; revealing the interior of the ship. It reminded Talon somewhat was a mouth. Once the gaping maw finished opening, it launched two large cube like structures.
The blood visibly drained from Talon face when those two cube like structures broke into a couple dozen separate spacecraft. The new spacecraft were odd, unlike any craft he had seen. It had a square head, two legs and two tube like appendages with clamps on the end with a thin torso. But it wasn't what they looked like that made the blood drain from his face, it was the fact that those couple dozen ships were speeding toward his ship at high speeds.
His fist slammed down on the ship wide PA system as he screamed as loud as his voice would allow, "ALL HANDS TO BATTLESTATIONS! THIS IS NOT A DRILL, I REPEAT, NOT A DRILL!"
Hello again my readers, it is nice to be posting another chapter. Now you may be wondering where is the next chapter of A Jedi in Fairy Cloth is? (If you read it that is) Well, in short, I'm kind of stuck where I want to take the story so it is on a small hiatus for the time being. But I have not given up on it, so until I figure out where to take it, I'm busying myself with A New Frontier.
There hasn't been much action in the last two chapters but that's going to change with the next one. I have been looking forward to this next chapter, time to lock and load and let the bullets fly.
And one last note, I've been thinking of way to include my readers into my story a little bit, since you guys are taking your time to read my story. So what I want to try to do is incorporate your guy's OCs. I want to give you guys a little more interaction with the story, so if you are interested in having your own little character pop up every now and then, go ahead a PM message me with your idea on the character.
Right now, all I need is two more members for Wraith Squad. There is only two requirements: Your Pilot must have the Cloak for their Tactical Ability and at least one weapon must have a silencer (whether it's their primary, secondary, or both).
Also please include the following:
Name (First and last)
Physical Description (Age, gender, build, hair and eye color, etc)
Weapons (Primary, Secondary, Anti-Titan, Ordnance)
Titan (Prefered Titan and loadout)
Personality (How they act basically, what are their beliefs, what would they stand up for and what do they shun, what are the thoughts that go through their head, what makes them stand out)
Backstory (Where did they come from and where did they go . . . But seriously, what's their history? Where they born, in the wide open Frontier or back in the Core Worlds where they sought to escape from? What shaped them to be how they are today, the battles they lived through, the triumphs they accomplished or the horror they experienced)
It's only two characters right now but there will be more later, I promise. But keep in mind, it won't just be Pilots. Maybe I'll need a badass Grunt or two, maybe an eccentric mechanic, or perhaps a crew member that may need to go above and beyond what is expected of them.
Although it's possible that this idea won't make it off the ground. If that's the case, no biggie. This is just an idea I'm testing out and ideas can be good and bad. If you are interested, don't hesitate to leave me a PM with your OC idea. Don't be afraid to make it detailed as you can, the more info you give, the less I have to assume about your OC.
Anyway, join me next time on:
Chapter 3:
TBA (To be announced)
Until then, stay classy, Rogue Pizza out