Chapter 02: Picking up the Pieces
Kira Hudson groaned as he pulled himself up, using the side of his console to help him as his right leg was shattered just above his ankle. "Erg, did anyone catch the number of that warship?"
"I don't know, but I think that it might be plastered onto the forward sectors of your main gun." Muttered Dvorak as she clutched onto her right shoulder, while lying on the floor next to the tactile station.
He reached down to help her to stand up, but as he did so he caused her to catch it on the edge of the console, making her grit her teeth to avoid screaming out with the pain that it caused her.
"Broken?" Hudson asked.
She nodded in the affirmative. "It sure feels like it." She took a quick look around at the damaged remains of the bridge, "However I think that I got off lightly compared to your ship though."
Hudson slowly cast his gaze over the damage on the bridge catching sight of the damage control board, till he saw the helm, "Meer!"
The form of the young ensign Campbell was slumped over the side of the co-pilots console unmoving, as Hudson used his own FN-P117 assault rifle as a makeshift crutch while he dragged himself down to check on her. Once he was close enough to her he reached over and checked for a pulse, muttering a small prayer when he thankfully found one. "Meer, are you alright?"
Groaning as she slowly came too, Campbell lifted her head and looked up at Hudson through a blood soaked face from a cut above her left eye. "Kir… Kira? What the hell happened?"
"We survived, but beyond that…" he said as he turned and saw that both Rockwell and Cochrane where checking on the admiral, who was lay un-moving on the deck plating in front of his chair. Seeing this Hudson reached across Campbell and pressed the intercom controls on the central column between her and lieutenant Newman in the primary helm location.
"Sickbay, this is the bridge, we need a medical party up here a.s.a.p." There was no reply. "Sickbay?"
"Sorry sir, we're trying to pick up the pieces down here." Came the static filled voice of doctor Morse.
"Kirsty, where's doctor Fallion?"
"Dead commander. Along with most of the staff and some of the patients. I'm transferring doctor Smith up to the bridge now. I've been getting sporadic reports from all over the ship. How bad is it up there?"
"Bad. The admiral's down, we will need a medical party up here to collect him as I have a hunch that the transporters are down."
Kirsty Morse harrumphed in agreement. "Wouldn't be against it. I'll get back to you as soon as we get everything sorted out down here. Sickbay out."
Hudson turned to face the wreck that used to be the bridge of the Archangel. "Ok, could someone activate doctor Smith program."
A few seconds later and a swift kick of a console later the holographic form of doctor Joe Smith appeared, "Please state the nature of …" doctor Smith trailed off as he saw the destruction that was all around him, "What on earth happened up here?" he asked as he knelt down next to Cutter opening the emergency medical kit nearby.
The remaining bridge crew shared a look with Hudson before the commander answered. "We sort of got into a little bit of a fight."
"Indeed, and just who did we decide to pick a fight with this time?" Asked Smith as he studied the readings on his medical scanner.
"The Prometheans." Everyone answered at the same time.
Smith looked up from his examination of the admiral with a hint of shock and concern, "Really? Well then, I'm surprised that you're not all dead or worse…"
Hudson laughed, but stopped after a sharp pain shot through his right side. "You and me both doc, you and me both." He said as he looked back over towards his station where sub-commander Dvorak was, "Speaking of which…"
She nodded and accessed the ships external scanner, but just had to stare at the readings even after running the scans three more times. "That… that can't be right."
"What?"
"Well according to those readings there are zero starships within scanner range."
"WHAT!" Everyone that heard asked.
"That's what these ESMF scanners of yours are saying."
"On screen."
Karina gave a small futile laugh as she pointed at the damaged view screen. "I'm good but I'm not a miracle worker."
Hudson pinched the bridge of his nose at the bad joke as he turned to look at the view screen, or what was left of it as a support pylon that had fallen from the overhead lighting sector and smashed down through the lights and straight into the screen, thank-fully the fallen beam hadn't pierced the forward hull bulkhead.
"Ok, let's forget that idea and stick it on the repair list."
"At what number?" Asked a groggy ensign Rockwell as he removed his helmet and looked at the damage control board which was a wash of red, orange and yellow. "Two hundred twenty seven, or three thousand and forty nine sir."
Hudson gave the land operations specialist a cold hard stare before saying, "Very funny Rocky."
Campbell looked up from her co-pilots seat, after pulling up the damage control board on her console. "Who's kidding, looking at this there are close to five thousand reports that need fixing, and that's not counting the lack of any ships outside."
Hudson looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "Well on the bright side at least there's no Promethean Knights aboard the ship."
He wasn't sure which hit him first, Campbell's hand as she slapped his side or the pieces of debris which was thrown at him by Rockwell and Dvorak. "Erm, did I just say that?" He asked.
As if on cue, the hatch to the bridge cracked open part way, causing every abled bodied person to take aim at the entry hatchway.
"Is anyone still alive in there?" Came the voice from the other side of the hatchway.
Dvorak, Campbell, Rockwell and Newmann all fixed Hudson with a stare so cold that the vacuum of space was warmer as they holstered their weapons.
"This is commander Hudson, who's that?"
"Lieutenant Welsh sir. I've got an imperial officer here with me, Optio Granger."
Dvorak lowered her head and pinched the bridge of her nose for a second before looking over at Hudson and mouthing, "Imperial intel."
Hudson tilted his head and tapped his personal assault rifle. Dvorak smirked as she considered the suggestion for a brief moment, before turning to help Rockwell, Welsh and Granger with the hatch.
Hudson left them too it and pressed the intercom once more. "Bridge to engineering, please respond."
"This is major Murdoch, am I to assume that both admiral Cutter and commodore Hunter are incapacitated?"
Hudson groaned lightly while muttering, "Why did that guy have to be the one that answered." Before speaking a little louder, "The admiral is down and commodore Hunter is dead along with several other crew members. What's the status down there?"
"Where to begin sir. Half of the engineering crew are dead, including colonel Tracy. The other half is busy repairing all of the problems which are present here in engineering. The drive core is off-line, reflex reactors have scrammed, but the emergency Helium three generators are working for now. I would highly recommend that you do not move the ship until we have had time to examine all of the components in the engines. So if you would be so kind as to ask the Prometheans not to attack us for the next six point seven-five days, I and the remaining engineering staff would be extremely appreciated."
Hudson looked at the view screen, or rather the remains of it and tried not to laugh. "Well it looks like we have lost everyone for the moment."
"Indeed. Well as long as you can refrain from any of your usual antics commander, I may just be able to get us to a fleet-station for repair."
The bridge crew all tried, unsuccessfully to hide their smirks at the remarks from the Trojan officer.
"I'm sure that I can keep from picking a fight for the next week or so major." Growled Hudson through gritted teeth. "Can you please tell me what is working?"
"Not much sir. I believe that the fighter and destroid wings and other auxiliary craft are still intact on both flight decks, but I will dispatch a detail to them once the proceeding one hundred and thirty more critical repairs have been completed."
Resisting the urge to go down to engineering and punch the smug ass through an air lock for stating the obviousness of the situation. "Ok, can you tell me what is working?"
"Not much I'm afraid, life support but just barely, the emergency synthesizers and the nanolathes, however I'm afraid not much else. In fact the only major system which appears to be working within acceptable normal levels are the linear cannons and the transporters."
"You're got to be fucking kidding!" Muttered Rockwell as the hatch finally opened, earning him a sharp look from Hudson.
"You have got to be joking!" Said Hudson, smirking pinching the bridge of his nose, as the bridge crew survivors started to snigger.
"Trojan's do NOT 'joke' commander, now if there is nothing else sir, I must get back to repairing the ship." Replied Murdoch and closed the comm-link without waiting for a reply.
"The transporters?" Muttered Campbell, before breaking out in a fit of laughter with Newmann, Rockwell, Cochrane and Hudson. "Will wonders never cease."
"I agree." Said Hudson as he turned to face Dvorak, Rockwell, Campbell, Welsh and Granger. "Right, it seems that we've finally gotten a break. Once engineering has confirmed that the transporters are working safely, we'll beam the admiral down to sickbay and then doc we'll transfer you back down there, after you've treated us. We need to work how many of the crew are left. Welsh take Granger and Rockwell and conduct a deck by deck search, or as best as you can. I want you to check every room, crawl-way, maintenance tube and storage space, make sure you locate everyone and that we don't have any 'stowaways' aboard."
Welsh and Rockwell nodded replacing their helmets while Granger saluted Dvorak before following.
Hudson limped back to his station, catching sight of his friend and the ships forth in command colonel David Wildhorse pinned to the deck by a support frame.
"Sub-commander, for the time being I'm making you my executive officer. I need you to co-ordinate with the rest of the ship and get me a full damage report a.s.a.p." Dvorak nodded and started to us the controls on the tactical station like a natural ESMF officer.
'I'll have to ask her about that later', Hudson thought to himself as he turned back to face Campbell and ensign Cochrane, "Ensigns, I need you to get in contact with someone. Macross fleet command, Zodiac control, Imperial Star Command, hell I'll take Triolian high council or some Decepticon pirates just not the Prometheans, also try to work where the frack we are."
The two young ensigns both nodded and got to work using the helm controls at the co-pilots station.
Hudson looked down at the tactical console and the combat readiness status of the mighty battlefortress or rather the lack there of. "Me. I'll see if I can't find us something, just in case we need to fight any passing ships."
-{[]}-
Several hours later Hudson pushed some of the small debris off of the table in the main observation lounge just behind the bridge and settled into his normal chair, as the door to the lounge opened and the pair of crewman left carrying a support beam between them.
He wasn't exactly comfortable doing this as technically admiral Cutter was still in command, but with him down in sickbay along with his prognosis being critical, he was left with no choice.
He glanced at the doorway as it opened again and the rest of the surviving senior staff filled in and took a seat around the table.
"Ok, let's see what we have left that we can work with, so firstly how many of the crew survived?"
The first person to speak up was the senior most doctor, a Brit named Kirsty Morse. "We've lost two hundred and three crew members, including commodore Hunter, lieutenant colonels Wildhorse and Tracy as well as Doctor's Fallion and Jackson. I've also got another seventy-five in or around the medical facilities, with about half of them in intensive care, including the admiral."
"Add to that the fifty members of my surviving crew in the barracks on deck six, and the twenty-five in its infirmary as well." Stated Dvorak, "Those that are able to have been assisting with the repairs, yet we have been denied access to several locations for obvious reasons." She said as she giving and lieutenant Welsh the CO of Devil squad the ships special operations force.
"Well we do have a few secretes on board," muttered Welsh, the acting tactical officer gaining a few chuckles from the rest of the room.
"Alright, what about main power?"
"Both the reflex reactors and the drive core are still off-line, as I indicated earlier it will take at least a standard week before it is safe for an attempt a low power re-start."
"So we have no way of reaching any support?"
Murdoch, the senior most engineer left down in engineering so had been promoted to the de-facto chief of engineering tilted his head slightly before answering. "As a matter of fact we do. The two hanger decks on both ARMD cruisers took a little damage, but all of the Falcon's, Argo's, the two squadrons of Thunderbolts mark seven veritech fighters, five of the ESINT recon units and all of the Ghost fighter drones which are in an acceptable condition. The rest have been designated for spare parts, at least until we are able to reach a fleet station. Plus, rather incredibly all ten of the work-bees and the destroid force, are still useable. I've currently got my people and the hanger crew's giving them a full level one inspection before they take them out to carry out a level one check of the hull. I will have that report to you in four hours."
Hudson nodded, he was thankful that most of their air wing and destroid force was still intact. There had been no point in deploying them when they had been engaging the Prometheans, so both the Destroid crews and Thunderbolt pilots had been forced to shake, rattle and roll with the rest of the ship during the fight over Lantea.
"Ok, CAG get the ESINT's out there and do some recon of the system we're in." He said to major April 'Ice Queen' O'Neill the senior most pilot as he turned to face Campbell and the science officer, ensign Zefram 'Zee' Cochran.
"Umm, where are we exactly?"
The two young ensigns shared a look, a look filled with pain before Cochrane answered the question poised.
"Actually sir… we're in the Lantea system."
"So where's the empire?" Asked Dvorak.
"It's not there," answered Cochrane as he nervously played with his played with his hands, not liking the piercing look that the Imperial officer was giving him. "as far as we can tell, no one has ever lived on the surface of this Lantea Alpha and Beta's surface was destroyed around five to a ten million years ago by an orbital bombardment that makes the 'Rain of Death' look like a light shower."
Dvorak looked down sadly at the table as she digested the news and pondered how she was going to inform the surviving members of her crew.
"What about Macross fleet command?" Asked O'Neill, "Or Zodiac control?"
Campbell shook her head sadly, "I'm afraid I'm getting absolutely nothing on either on fleet-command or civilian channel, Imperial channels or Zodiac frequencies. Hell, I haven't gotten any sub-space signals at all, there seems to be a large amount of background radiometric interference from a totally unknown dimension of sup-space and an unusually high level of beta particles across all of the sub-space channels."
"Okay, well for the moment we're on our own then." Stated Hudson as he looked at each person in turn.
"Erm sir, I'm afraid that it gets worse…" Stated Cochrane as everyone within the observation lounge turned to face him and not enjoying the looks that he was catching off his crewmates, from that short statement. "I've… I have run a stellar check while I was calculating our current location and while most of the known astrological location markers are accounted for, there are a few problems."
"Such as?" Asked Hudson.
Cochrane swallowed hard as he used the controls on the table in front of him to activate the view screen at the back of the room with a star chart that showed the main astrological markers for both the alpha and beta quadrants. "This is the charts as they were just before we, for lack of a better term vanished." He said as several of the stars and nebular flashed blue. "And these are those same markers as close as we can find them now."
On the screen a second set of stars and nebular flashed red, all of them where close to their original locations, but none of them where in the correct place.
"Have you managed to figure out why so many of markers are out of place?"
"Stellar drift sir."
"Wait, wait. Would some someone please tell me what 'stellar drift' is?" Asked doctor Morse.
"Sorry doc, to put it simply, it's a natural occurrence where stars are slowly moving away from each other, so I had the computer run an analysis to work out why the markers where out of alignment."
He paused as he activated the controls again to manipulate the maps on the screen so that they merged and the majority of the stars to match up and turn purple as they matched their normal positions, though there were some which stubbornly still refused to move into more predictable locations.
"And?" Promoted Morse.
"Well, the best reason that both Meer and myself could get from the results was that the local date was incorrect. All the data we have would suggest that the local date is somewhere around the late 20th century, maybe the early 21st century."
"They 20th century?" Asked everyone after a few seconds.
Cochrane shrugged. "Give or take ten years." The young ensign waited for all of the resulting emotions to settle down before he continued with his report. "I am afraid that it goes from bad to worse, commander. According to the quantum scans we've taken of the local stellar objects within sensor range, we appear to have not only moved through time but we have also left our own quantum universe."
"WHAT!" Screamed major O'Neill as thee staff meeting went from a normal quiet and controlled setting to a complete and utter mayhem.
Hudson buried his head on the table while the others all shouted and caused in angry disbelief. How where they get home, was that even going to be an option? Should they even try and find help within this strange and new universe? This was so far from anything that he had been taught him by his mentor admiral Ramius back when he was just a colonel serving as the executive officer on the ESMF Interceptor it wasn't even remotely funny.
He sighed and lifted his head up, taking in the very despondent looks of his fellow officers. "Okay people, it would appear that we are up that infamous creak without a paddle, and I have a feeling that we have sprung more than one leak."
It may have been a very bad joke, but somehow it seemed to work as the whole room chuckled and released some of the tension in the room.
"So the question is how do we go about figuring out the local political setup?" He left the statement hanging hoping that someone, anyone else, might have an idea or two.
"Commander, I don't believe that we can." Stated Murdoch as he took a sip of his raktajino. "To do so would be a violation of the shield directive zero-zero-one."
"Ah, that famous SD 001," muttered Dvorak sarcastically with air quotes.
"Indeed sub-commander," Murdoch said, choosing to ignore the Imperial officer's remarks. "we cannot afford to interfere in the development of the local political make up for this galaxy. Though I am unsure if it would be worse if this is a universe with or without an Earth Sphere Unified Nation."
"It wouldn't apply if the locals are a spacefaring species though." Said ensign Campbell meekly.
"Actually Ms Campbell, it does. If we have any technology which could upset the local balance of power, then we are duty bound to avoid any and all interference in the local political situation."
"That is realpolitik. The Macross fleet and the ESUN just love to stick your collective nose into anything you can, whenever you can."
"I think," stated Hudson, trying to cut off any reply from Murdoch which the engineer was probable forming in response. "I think that, for the time being, we place the discussion of SD 001 on the back burner for now, and concentrate on the more immediate situation."
He stood up and turned to look out the window at the back of the observation lounge.
"At this moment we're half blind, on secondary power and have next to no weapons. Therefore we need to repair the ship and set up some form of early warning system in the nearby star-systems." He turned back to face the rest of the room before addressing Murdoch directly.
"Major, I'll need you to send me a full and detailed damage report as soon as you and your engineering teams can, and for once feel free to be as detailed as you can."
Murdoch nodded, ignoring the slight about the Trojan comprehensiveness. "Yes sir. I'll have it to you as soon as I can."
"Ensigns and sub-commander Dvorak, I want you three to work with major O'Neill to pick viable locations in the surrounding systems and arrange for the deployment of ESINT equipped Thunderbolt's and an escort to scout them out, also CAG launch four Thunderbolt's with full F.A.S.T. packs and Ghost fighter escorts, as a combat air patrol."
"A C.A.P.?" Asked O'Neill disbelievingly.
"I'm afraid so, without the long or mid-range sensors coupled with the near total lack of power we've got at the moment we will need them to be our eyes and ears, and heaven forbid, our sword and shield as well."
"Understood sir." Said O'Neill with a slight nod, and started typing out a CAP rotation on her PADD.
Hudson glanced down at his own PADD before he looked around the room. "Ok, anything else you can think of people."
"Personal effects in the crew quarters sir?" Welsh said, obviously not entirely comfortable with this subject, but feeling that the subject needed to be discussed. "As major Sisko's teams are searching, they keep discovering a lot of personal effects, and I've been asked what to do with them by him a few times now sir."
"I'd suggest one of the smaller cargo decks sir." Suggested Campbell. "We could use it as a place of remembrance."
The others all nodded in agreement at the idea, it wasn't a very pretty thought but they'd need somewhere to grieve for their lost friends and colleagues provided that they lived long enough in this new universe to be able to do so.
"Do it. As for the rest of the stuff two groups. Group one will be things that seem to have sentimental value but no real use, as for the other group of things shall be stored in a secondary location, we can work out what we'll actually do with those two groups later." Hudson said as he scanned the faces of everyone in the room. "Alright, if there's nothing else, let's get back to work, I'd like the ship fixed before the admiral gets out of sickbay."
The group stood and left to return to their duties, all except Dvorak who stood and walked over to stand next to Hudson as he looked out the window towards the lifeless form of the planet Lantea Beta.
Hudson tried to give her a poker face smile, "Well, the recruitment poster did say 'Explore strange new worlds and meet new and exciting people'."
Dvorak laughed an honest and pure laugh and Hudson felt better than he had in a very, very long time for hearing it. "Sometimes Kira you are beyond infuriating and at others…" she said as she leaned over so she could whisper into his ear slightly more easily, "… I would swear you're a Lantean and would want to pursue you." She kissed him gently on the cheek, then turned and left the observation lounge quickly before he had any opportunity to get his bearings once again.
Hudson watched her walk out as the doors to the main observation room closed behind her, while he sat back down in the first chair he came to.
"Why is it that I always have to fall for the ones which are unattainable ones?" He muttered to himself with a rare smile.
Since everything appeared to be going smoothly, and that there was nothing else planned for the next few hours he decided to catch a quick rest, but after opening his uniform tunic and easing back into the chair, he collapsed into a deep sleep.
