Chapter 5
Vanessa was afraid. She kept her outward control- it was her duty to do so, particularly in front of May, but she couldn't lie to herself. Bron had been right to warn her, all those months ago, when they walked hand in hand through Monument's night time streets. Confronting Captain Gotta here was different than encountering and befriending giants in cosmopolitan Monument city. Different than training on the Factory Satellite, so similar to the SDF-1 in ways that unsettled and haunted her. She had been afraid, she knew, since the moment she landed in the Sal-Dezir's docking bay, surrounded by that vast host of warriors and mecha that was even now hunting the remnants of the once great army of York like animals. Afraid since she first stood under the haughty gaze of Gotta's officers, and stared up into his eyes, green like stagnant, dead waters.
Brobdingnag, indeed. Who was she to stand up to him, to look him in the eye and gainsay him? As if she were his equal? She was an insect before him. With a single careless gesture, he could destroy her so utterly that she would only be identifiable by her DNA and the mangled fragments of her cybernetics. Insignificant. And what right did she have to question him? Today the Zentraedi arrived only just in time to save the lives of their own people, and many Terrans besides. What was she going to do now? Stand forward as a Terran, to speak in defense of other Terrans who were guilty of warmongering, atrocities, and war crimes, to a Zentraedi officer of senior rank, on his own bridge? She hadn't raised one word of disagreement when she helped Gotta's crew massacre everyone in York's support and logistics area.
Vanessa's throat closed up, even as she felt the ship's great engines increase in power, driving it west, across the lifeless wastes, and towards York. She looked next to her, and May was pale and speechless, with no idea of how to respond to Gotta's bald declaration. Vanessa suddenly thought of Exedore. I leave the rest to you. Anger and resentment surged up alongside her fear. Why? Why had he left? Left this situation to her, if he had predicted it? Couldn't he have ordered Gotta to turn around? Why was she once again the only person in a position to stand forward, speak, question, and defy?
She turned her head from May back to Gotta, and went rigid. He was looking down at her, intently. Shouldn't she be beneath his notice now? He was waiting. Waiting for her to speak. She swallowed, wondering what to say.
If it were up to me… I would … gather Armor Seven, Hecate, Lilith, Morgause, every veritech in near-Earth space, Breetai's fleet… we would descend like God's Judgement on York. Bomb every base, crush their toy tanks under foot, and blast every one of those flimsy F-16's out of the sky… But I can't do that… I'm accountable to the chain of command, to the UEG, and the people of Earth… I'm not a warlord... You must learn the limits of command.
Hard for her to believe, but it had only been a few short days since Lisa spoke those words to her, and the voice of her superior, mentor, and friend echoed loudly in her mind. She had thought of her often, wondering whether the choices she was making were the right ones. Whether Lisa would approve, or at least understand. She lifted her chin, met Gotta's inscrutable gaze, and took a deep breath.
"Captain, what are your intentions?" She kept her voice flat, like Lisa's.
Gotta raised an eyebrow. "Did you not understand my intentions from the day I welcomed you aboard my ship?"
She had. Or at least, she thought she had. "York's army is destroyed in the field. Manhattan is safe. The mission is complete."
Gotta shook his head. "York's army is destroyed. But that is not enough. York has been thwarted, but not punished."
"Those are not our orders."
"I do not need orders to do what is necessary," Gotta said, grimly.
"Why is it necessary? York's power is broken, its army gone, and its reputation ruined. As isolated as they are now, it's unlikely their current government will even survive the coming months."
"They attacked the Zentraedi. They must face retribution, and their leaders must die. There are still many on Earth who wish us harm, and they must learn that my people will not allow themselves to be made into victims." He paused, and then continued ponderously, "I will bring this retribution, city by city. I will give York their 'Second Rain of Death.'"
Vanessa's skin crawled. She had been preparing multiple arguments for why it was misguided and self-defeating to attack York now, but she had envisioned something like Lisa had described - destroying York's remaining military, fortifications, and bases, perhaps some of their manufacturing capabilities as well. She could admit that she had fantasized about it herself in the previous days. But this… to reproduce humanity's most traumatic, most terrible moment, even in miniature…
"You can't do that!" she burst out.
He did not seem angered by her protest, or even taken aback.
"Why not?" he asked simply.
"Because- because it's wrong to bombard York's settlements, killing guilty and innocent alike! Have you forgotten that even after the Rain of Death, we forgave the Zentraedi, accepted them, offered them a home?"
Gotta folded his arms. "You seem to forget, I fought alongside Breetai. Alongside you. My crew and I had no part in the Rain of Death."
"But many Zentraiedi did! The crew of the Qel'Vatal, the survivors who founded Monument, fought for Dolza. But Admiral Gloval told us we must forgive them, because they did not understand what they had been ordered to do and why. We helped them build homes and lives."
"Not everyone forgave. York's soldiers murdered every Zentraedi that could not escape its borders."
"And that's wrong! They should be stopped! But don't you see? You have no excuse. You know what you're doing. If you destroy York, if you carry out a second Rain of Death, the Zentraedi will never be forgiven again. They'll have no future on Earth!" Vanessa's flesh and blood fist was shaking where she held it at her side, and she covered it, stilled it, with a steady blue hand.
"What concern is the future to a Zentraedi warrior?" Gotta demanded, and Vanessa's thoughts stuttered to a halt. What could she say in the face of such nihilism?
"You don't have the right to do this!" she pleaded. "To decide this for other Zentraedi! What about your crew?"
"My crew are loyal. Any who would have refused me have already left the fleet, or are on the ground with Group Leader Pentiet."
As Vanessa grappled for a response,
Operations called out an update.
"Now crossing York's most recently declared border. Their primary military post in this region is now in range."
"Destroy it," Gotta ordered. "Full barrage, all cannons."
"We will obey."
Vanessa gasped. Events were moving too quickly. The strike module was fast, even in atmosphere. They were passing over a military target right now, and the true heartland of York lay around the former states of Ohio and Kentucky, but at this rate it would not take long to reach New Pittsburgh, which had a population of more than twenty thousand civilians. She felt the shock of energy discharges under her feet.
"Estimate eighty-seven percent destruction of surface facilities," came the report.
"Maintain speed. Proceed on course to the next objective," Gotta commanded.
His attention was beginning to drift back to the projec-beams, and Vanessa's mind raced, running over and over everything she had seen Gotta say and do since she came aboard. The odd differences from what Straza had told her to expect of his personality and leadership. Things that Breetai and Exedore had said when she and Straza spoke to them, and… she understood.
"You're afraid!" she shouted, pointing a cybernetic finger at him.
Vanessa had the attention of everyone in the command bubble now. Gotta's XO and two aides were staring at her in disbelief. May was terrified, and her face had that 'you're doing that thing you do again!' look she had learned to recognize. Something flickered in Gotta's eyes. For the first time since Vanessa boarded the Sal-Dezir, she saw something in his expression other than cool calculation or simmering anger. He tilted his head.
"I do not fear death or the consequences of my actions." He remained composed, yet there was a darkness in his voice. But Vanessa was no longer conscious of her fear. She pressed.
"I believe you. You've never lied to me, since we first met. But you also haven't been telling me everything. You're not afraid of death, you're afraid of life!"
"Meaningless words!" Gotta growled.
"It's the truth! You're afraid of your entire world crumbling around you!" Her voice dropped. "I know it, because I've experienced it. My ship, my home, destroyed. My crew, my family, gone. My body, my whole sense of self, broken. I was afraid. I thought that it would have been better if I had died, because I knew my life would never be the same again."
Gotta's jaw worked, but he could not find words to answer her. Vanessa continued.
"I was wrong. There is still meaning to be found. Purpose. Friendship. Love. It was hard. But there is a life here, on Earth, even without the Sal-Dezir, or the fleet. Others have done it. Let us help you."
Gotta looked at her for a long time before he spoke.
"You have my admiration, Commander. You are a soldier worthy of respect, and yet you are also more. But I do not want this new life. When we defeated Dolza, I expected something… much different. My path is set."
Vanessa gazed into his eyes, and a coldness settled over her. She knew. Though her eye stung, her voice was calm.
"I can't convince you, can I?"
"You cannot."
"And I can't order you to stop, either."
He shook his head, regretfully. "Even great Breetai could not."
"I understand." She smiled bitterly. "How could anyone fail to see that Terrans and Zentraedi are exactly the same?"
The comms panel on May's console had been flashing for some time, indicating an incoming transmission that had gone unacknowledged by anyone on the bridge. Vanessa smoothly slid past May and thumbed the transmit/receive switch.
"- anybody there Control? Hazard, can you h-"
Vanessa interrupted Reyes, incontestable authority in her words.
"Gold Leader, this is Lieutenant Commander Leeds. You are ordered to disable or destroy the Sal-Dezir. Disable or destroy at all costs!"
It took a special blend of situational awareness, personal initiative, and the ability to respond to new orders instantaneously to make an effective veritech squadron leader. Vanessa had learned by now that Jose Reyes possessed all of these qualities. He realized the moment the Sal-Dezir left the battle area that something was wrong. When Vanessa commanded him, he understood the situation immediately. He did not protest, or ask for clarification. He acted.
"Acknowledged, Commander. Gold Sabers, moving into attack position."
But he was also a human being. After a brief pause, he transmitted again.
"Hazard, I- Allie, I'm sorry. I should have said it to you before, and instead I stayed quiet, and told myself I was being faithful. But I was really just lying to myself, and everyone else. Allie, I love you too."
May sobbed and leaned over the mic. "I knew… I always knew… Jose, please, survive! I love you."
"I'm coming, Allie. I'll be there soon. Gold Sabers, out."
May broke down, and Vanessa took her friend into her arms. She did not think less of May, because there was little else she or any of the rest of the training cohort could do now. This was what she most regretted. Not her own impending death, but the loss of May and so many others like her. The pain Bron and all of their loved ones would soon feel. She was in command. She was responsible. She stroked May's curly hair, and then looked over the young lieutenant's shaking shoulders to watch Gotta. The Captain clasped his hands behind his back and issued new orders.
"Sound battle alert! Conn, steer to heading one-eight-zero. Engineering, reduce speed to one half full atmospheric. Gun crews, prepare all defensive turrets for immediate action! Engage and destroy hostile fighter squadron!"
The high alert klaxons reactivated, calling the crew back to arms. Vanessa waited. It would take only a moment's thought for the colossus who captained this ship to annihilate her and May. Perhaps it would be over quickly. What Gotta planned to do to York's people was terrible, but he had never taken any delight in causing suffering. To her surprise he did nothing, only watched the projec-beams, and kept one eye on her and May. Finally, she spoke.
"Don't you intend to kill us?"
Gotta gave her a quizzical look. "I do not."
"Why?"
"It would serve no purpose. I have never desired your death, Survivor."
"But I'm your enemy."
Gotta shook his head. "No. We are opponents. Not enemies. The contest of battle begins again. The board is set. The most important pieces are back in play. You. Me. Your Gold Sabers. My Sal-Dezir. Who will triumph this time?"
"No one," Vanessa said, her voice hollow.
"We shall see."
May stepped back from Vanessa's embrace and wiped her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered, and turned, as everyone else did, to watch the billboard sized projec-beam displays. The Gold Sabers were approaching fast, and the Sal-Dezir was angling to bring its broadside defensive batteries to bear on them. The day that Vanessa and the others docked with the ship, Reyes had made a half-joking comment about knocking out the Sal-Dezir with a single squadron. Not long after, he had done just that in a simulation, with the help of Reflex missiles and a supporting destroyer, but at the cost of his entire unit. Today he would try to do it again for real, and with no backup. As the Valkyries screamed in through a hail of blue energy beams Vanessa was sure that he had been thinking about how he would tackle the Sal-Dezir ever since that day.
The Sal-Dezir's strike module gave up the prodigious mecha capacity and endurance of the primary hull in favor of powerful engines and a terrifying weight of offensive and defensive firepower. To counter this advantage, the Gold Sabers broke up into three tight columns, each group of veritechs following their leader's movements as closely as possible. The formation spread out the Sal-Dezir's defensive fire, while providing the turrets few targets. The attack pattern wasn't in any of the manuals, because Valkyries normally wouldn't have attempted something like this, but Reyes had clearly ordered his pilots to practice it over and over. Vanessa suspected he had gotten the idea from a scene in a movie she had seen as a child. Then one of the turrets scored a lucky hit on the leader of the lowest flying column. The Valkyrie flared bright on the display, and was gone, all but vaporized by the mammoth energy beam. May gave out a small sound of distress, and Vanessa winced. The following three Valkyries flew through the fireball and dodged the rest of the energy burst, staying in formation.
The veritechs reached the strike module's red defensive zone, close enough for Vanessa to see their warm yellow coloration and the emerald green flashing on their wings, tail fins, and thrusters, and they broke away in all directions, further confusing the turret fire, then passed above and below the ship.
The Sal-Dezir's armor plating was enormously thick, and lacked vulnerable launch bays or observation ports. Its ventral drop hanger was already empty and sealed tight. There was no external conning tower to target, and the bridge was located deep within the hull. But Reyes had realized that the turrets themselves were a vulnerability. Even as Vanessa heard the Gunnery Officer order the starboard turrets to be ready, the Valkyries converged on the opposite side of the ship, rolling and flipping to guardian mode. They hugged the hull, seeking out the point where the fewest defensive fields of fire overlapped, and they released their missiles. With only an infinitesimal fraction of a Reflex missile's power, they were still sufficient to crack through three of the less armored ball turrets, which vomited fire, then began trailing smoke in long chains behind the ship. Reyes, leading the way, forced his battloid into one of the breaches, peeling away scorched plating with brute force metal fists. He dislodged the bent barrel of the beam cannon from its mount, and it fell half a kilometer to the dry and dusty wasteland below. The battloid pressed through, scorched by tongues of flame, jagged metal raking long lines across its fuselage, and then it pushed aside the body of the unfortunate gunner, still strapped into his cushioned seat in a reclining position. Reyes was inside the strike module's gunnery deck. Two of his pilots were entering the other breached turrets, and the rest hovered close by, suppressing the rest of the attacking turrets as best they could with their gun pods while awaiting their own chances to make entry. One took a hit, disappearing in a horrifying flash of light, and Vanessa hissed. Three more Valkyries fought their way into the ship, while the remainder turned tight, fast circles, evading incoming fire from all directions, and then another of them burned and tumbled from the sky. May flinched at each death as if from a physical blow, and Vanessa took her hand. The last trio finally entered the breaches, and at last there were nine Valkyries aboard the strike module. Reyes and his pilots had overcome the first, seemingly impossible obstacle, but would they be enough to accomplish the mission?
"Impressive. Resume previous course, best possible speed. All hands, prepare to repel boarders!" Gotta announced, and Vanessa shuddered. There were more than a thousand armed Zentraedi on the strike module, both the normal crew complement, and everyone who had evacuated from the primary hull. If Reyes had not prepared for this, there was no way he would be able to fight his way to the vital areas of the ship.
But he had prepared. For all his easygoing attitude, Reyes had hardly spent an idle moment on the Sal-Dezir. Over a few days he took his battloid on inspection tours, asked Straza to introduce him to section chiefs, and consulted with specialists in the training cohort who had visited other important areas of the ship. He knew its condition, how to navigate its interior, and how to hurt it.
The interior of the ship was poorly monitored. The Zentraedi were unused to this type of boarding action; over their extensive history of conquest, most of their opponents simply lacked the power or the inside knowledge to attack them in this way. As minutes passed, Gotta, Vanessa, and the others had to make do with fragmentary reports of the Gold Sabers' actions and movements. It became clear that they had split up.
"Sighting in Gallery Four, Deck Two. Security squad enroute from aft!" an operations technician reported.
"Seal all hatches forward of the gallery! Try to box them in!" Gotta directed.
"Squad D reports fifty percent losses and one enemy downed! Two more escaped through an open lift shaft and moved to Deck Six!"
"Route three additional squads to Deck Six! Do not let them reach Fire Control!"
May was visibly wilting, not knowing if the downed Valkyrie belonged to Reyes, but Vanessa, struggling to keep iron control of herself, felt responsible for every pilot lost, and every Zentraedi crewman killed. A moan of tortured metal passed through the ship, and the damage control officer turned from his station to report.
"Main Fire Control is inoperable. Boarders launched missiles into the compartment. Twenty-plus casualties."
The Sal-Dezir was not entirely defanged, but without the guidance of the primary Fire Control center and its officers, the ship's weapon batteries would operate in an uncoordinated, inefficient fashion. It was a start, but it was not enough.
"Double the security assigned to Engineering and the bridge, and lock down all non-essential corridors and lifts!" Gotta ordered harshly.
Without warning, all the shipboard lights and the projec-beams died, leaving only multi-colored constellations of instrument panel indicators to be seen on the bridge.
"What - has - happened?" the Captain gritted out.
"M-my Lord," the damage control officer stammered as the emergency lights came up, bathing everyone in dim red light, "it appears that secondary power distribution for all non-critical ship's functions has been disabled. You may, er, recall that the primaries failed due to lack of maintenance six months ago."
Gotta grunted.
"They shut off the lights. What does this gain them?" He spared Vanessa and May a glance as he asked the question.
"Checking… I'm not entirely…" the officer trailed off. May took a breath, and spoke, her voice shaking at first, then evening out.
"It means that all of the hatches have unlocked automatically, so that damage control crews can move about the ship. They'll still seal in case of a hull breach, and they can be locked manually, but right now, every part of the ship is accessible."
Gotta's frown deepened. "Is the additional security in place?"
"Nearly there, Captain."
May's eyes were shining, and she squeezed Vanessa's hand. "He's doing it!" she whispered excitedly. "He's really doing it!"
"How did you know about that?" Vanessa asked.
"That's how it worked on the SDF-1. There are a lot of similarities like that. I learned about the power subsystems because of my work in Barrier Control. Jose was asking me about it just the other day."
The two hatches that allowed entry to the command bubble slid open a crack, and then were pushed aside by hulking Zentraedi troopers in full battle armor, their enormous autorifles hanging from their shoulder straps. A pair entered from each side, and they cranked the hatches shut again.
"Helon's unit has cornered two Valkyries at a dead end on Deck Three, towards the drive section!" Operations called out. "They are engaged in a heavy firefight!"
Everyone waited tensely, and then Vanessa's heart sank at the followup report.
"Both hostiles destroyed! Six of our own killed in action."
"Tell Helon that he is to be commended," Gotta said. "Only a matter of time," he added, with grim satisfaction.
Tears were leaking from May's eyes, but she stayed quiet. Why did they allow themselves to be trapped back there? Vanessa wondered, and then the thrum of the ship's drives dropped in pitch. The deck listed fifteen degrees to port, and everyone reached out to steady themselves.
"Portside main drives offline! Cutting starboard drives to compensate!"
Slowly the ship stabilized, as the great engines banked their fires.
"Now running on secondary thrusters and gravity control only," Engineering announced. "Speed limited to five percent of full atmospheric."
"How did this happen?" Gotta demanded. "Was there a breach in Engineering? I ordered extra security!
"No, my Lord! I swear!" Operations pleaded.
"Then how!" Gotta roared, his patience spent.
"Tracing the problem," the damage control officer said. "Port thrusters were shut down by a failure in the subcontrol module in the drive section itself, not at Engineering!"
"Why was it not protected!"
"It- it can't be accessed! It can only be reached by service drones during a full refit in drydock!"
"Reached by drones… or micronians," Gotta said slowly, turning his gaze back upon Vanessa. "It appears I and my crew have underestimated Terran ingenuity once again."
Vanessa shook her head in disbelief. The bravery, brilliance, and self-sacrifice of Reyes, his pilots, and everyone in the training cohort was beyond anything she could have imagined. The Valkyrie pilots didn't have the knowledge to disable the drives, but there were trainees in the cohort with the appropriate MOSs to do the job. At some point during the boarding action, the pilots retrieved the Robotech engineers and then gave their own lives to bring them where they needed to be. And now, their task complete, those engineers were stranded, alone, somewhere in the nether reaches of the ship.
Vanessa hated this. She had set this battle into motion, and now she was just standing here, watching it all happen. At least half of Reyes's pilots were dead as a result of her orders. Possibly some of the trainees. And who knew how many Zentraedi? Our allies! More than forty people, at a minimum, had lost their lives. But it was done. With its weapons greatly hampered in effectiveness, and its speed so reduced that it would take hours to reach New Pittsburgh, the Sal-Dezir was a sitting duck for whatever force the Army of the Southern Cross, UN Spacy, or even Breetai might send to intercept it. Reyes could now rally his remaining fighters, gather up any members of the training cohort within reach, and evacuate. What that meant for her and May, she was not sure. It depended on what Gotta decided to do now. With the situation changed, perhaps she could still convince him to stand down. Vanessa opened her mouth to speak, but another shudder passed through the deck.
"He told us he was coming," May said with quiet clarity.
They all heard a rapid, muted rattle, like hail on a metal roof. Gun pod fire. The armored troopers clutched their autorifles tighter. Gotta looked down at Vanessa. At long last, she could see the sadness in his murky green eyes.
"All I wanted was a meaningful end," he rumbled.
Anger and betrayal burned hot in Vanessa's belly.
"Then you should have made better choices!" she stated harshly.
The light on May's comm panel began blinking again. Reyes was breaking radio silence. May reached out a finger and flipped the switch.
"Hazard, Tang, DOWN!"
There was no time for anyone to properly react. May yelped as Vanessa grabbed her by the shoulders and roughly shoved her onto her backside. She crouched over May, holding her close and trying to cover both their heads with her cybernetic arm. The guards were turning their fish-eye helmeted heads, their attention drawn to the movement, when the missiles struck the command bubble's portside hatch and blew it into fragments. The tiny platform where Vanessa and May's stations were located was almost up against the transparent bowl of the command bubble, and was nearly as far as it was possible to be from the blast, but they still both cried out as the concussion rattled through their bodies and ruffled their hair. Above them, the material of the bubble cracked ominously. The two closest troopers were tossed to the deck, the gaps between their body armors' plates pierced by meters long metal shards.
The remaining guards leveled their autorifles and fired into the corridor past the destroyed hatch, just as two battle-damaged guardians flew out into the command bubble. One spread its wings and dropped low, using them to bowl over Gotta's surprised XO and his two aides. The other, gushing smoke where the bursts of autorifle slugs had torn through its metal skin, plowed into the last pair of guards and exploded. Vanessa and May only avoided being deafened because they had both clamped their hands and shoulders against their ears.
Serpent quick, Reyes spun in place on thrusters and reconfigured his veritech to battloid mode, the sharp angles and paired lasers of its head giving it the aspect of a threatening wasp. His back was to the broken monitor at the rear of the command bubble as he brought his gun pod around to cover Captain Gotta. His voice rang out over loudspeakers.
"Don't you-!"
But Gotta was already in motion. His own back to Vanessa and May, he dodged sideways toward the center of the command bubble, at the same time reaching under the rich, gold-embellished material of his maroon command cloak. Vanessa saw him draw a long-barreled energy pistol big enough to mount on an artillery carriage.
"MAY!" she yelled, shoving up off the deck with her cybernetic leg and using her augmented arm to fling her friend to the edge of the platform. Standing now, she saw Gotta's immensely broad back, and the spread-legged stance of Reye's battloid directly beyond him. Shots, shockingly loud and bright in the dimness of the command bubble, rang out, and she shut her eye tight. The transparent bubble shattered, dropping a noisy curtain of fragments thirty meters tall and twice that wide to the main bridge below. Crystals rained down on her head and her shoulders, and there was a thunderous sound of something monumentally heavy crashing to the deck in front of her.
Vanessa suddenly felt hot. Sticky. On her face. Her arms and legs. Her uniform. She tried to open her eye, and squinted as warm, thick liquid oozed into it. She wiped at it with her hand, smeared it away, and looked down at dripping fingers. Blood. Blood on her face and in her hair. Blood coating every inch of her body. Blood, sharp and iron-tanged in her mouth and nose. Blood pooling around her feet, and draining in torrents off the edge of the platform.
"Oh… G-God…" she moaned.
Gotta lay on the deck right in front of her, legs drawn up against himself. One hand clutched the unfired pistol, and the other reached for nothing. She couldn't see his face. His back was a gory ruin of exit wounds, and his blood steamed in air that reeked of death and the fumes of chemical explosives. Reyes stood over him, the muzzle of his gun pod smoking. Gotta's XO was groaning where he lay up against the bulkhead, holding an arm over his broken ribs. All else was still.
"Ma'am? Are you alright?"
May was picking herself up from the edge of the platform, just outside the pool of blood, her face etched with shock. Vanessa slowly turned her head to meet her eyes, and began to sag, all the strength draining from her limbs.
"Vanessa!" May rushed over, slipping in the blood and glass, but somehow keeping her footing. She grabbed Vanessa under the arms and supported her, determination driving her strength, ignoring the blood now transferring to her own uniform.
"Please," Vanessa said thickly, "I'm going to- I'm going to-"
May managed to help Vanessa over to the railing, on the opposite side from Gotta's body, before she was violently sick. After she finished, panting, she tried to wipe her mouth with a blood-soaked sleeve. May took off her own uniform jacket, leaving a white, narrow-cut UN Spacy issued undershirt beneath it, and used the unstained parts of the jacket to clean Vanessa's face.
Vanessa slowly rose to a standing position, still leaning heavily over the railing, and stopped. There were at least two dozen giant deck officers and technicians silently staring up at her. Reyes walked his battloid forward a cautious step, gun pod at the ready.
"Nobody move!" he warned, but he sounded far from confident.
The XO pushed himself painfully to his feet, bracing his back against the bulkhead. "Commander Leeds," he gasped, "the bridge… is yours."
Vanessa tried to stand up straighter. She felt the metal of the railing crimping under her prosthetic fingers, drawing her eye to it. The hand was bubbling and foaming where its internal mechanisms were forcefully expelling the blood that seeped inside. She made herself ignore it and turned to look at the XO.
"I don't… what?"
"Captain Gotta's orders. If he should die, we were to surrender the ship to you. The Sal-Dezir is now your prize."
He saluted, fist across chest, and winced. The crew on the deck below saluted in turn.
"Ho!"
Anger rekindled in Vanessa, driving away the numbness, and lending some desperately needed strength to her limbs. He made plans around this? What utter, selfish, nonsense! she thought, but there was no time for that right now. She nodded, and somehow summoned up the will to speak coherently.
"Very well. XO, all orders from members of my prize crew are to be obeyed. Stand down from high alert. All crew not handling primary systems or damage control are to return to their quarters."
"I will obey."
"And get a relief crew up here. I want you and any other survivors taken to Sick Bay," Vanessa added as she carefully shuffled to her station and activated its microphone. Her voice amplified over the bridge loudspeakers.
"Conn, steer course eight-seven. We are returning to Manhattan and will splash down in New York Bay upon our arrival."
"At once, Captain."
Vanessa grimaced and turned to look up at Reyes. His battloid was a horror show. Its armored skin was peeled back, the paint blistered. With its gun pod drooping loosely in its fist, it looked like a nightmarish Robotech zombie. The blood spatter streaking its torso and cracked visor completed the image, the blood spilled from- Stop thinking about that! You have to take care of them all!
"Gold Leader, regroup with the rest of your squadron. Recover any of our people who were separated during the battle, and then move the camp to quarters closer to the bridge."
Reyes's battloid gestured vaguely towards the Zentraedi.
"Are you sure it's safe to-"
"Yes. Please move quickly."
"Yes, Captain," he said, lifting the gun pod in salute, causing Vanessa to frown again as the battloid marched away. It stopped at the blown hatch, and the head rotated toward May.
"Um, Allie, I-"
"It's ok, we can talk later," May told him gently. The battloid nodded awkwardly and departed.
"I know you don't like it, but you are the Captain now," May said quietly. She was using her now thoroughly soiled jacket to wipe the worst of the blood off of their instrument panels. Vanessa shook her head and spoke again.
"Lieutenant, contact Admiral Hayes, Admiral Breetai, and Colonel Edwards. Inform them that there was an emergency on the Sal-Dezir, and that I am currently in command. Tell them we are returning to Manhattan on secondary thrusters, and that I will give them a more detailed report when I am able."
"Aye, Captain."
Vanessa huffed a sigh and returned to the railing overlooking the main bridge as May finished cleaning the comms panel. She wasn't sure what to do next. The report - but she didn't have complete information on the status of the Gold Sabers and the trainees yet. The ship? Perhaps speak to the damage control officer - but was it more important to let them concentrate on their work for now? Or should she make a general announcement to the crew? But what would I say? 'I've killed your insane captain, and now I'm taking your ship back to Manhattan to decommission it?' She folded her arms and regretted it. Her sleeves were soaked through with blood, and it was cooling and congealing on her hands, on her neck, and matting her hair. Disgusting.
Vanessa's mind was still spinning in circles when a large team of Zentraedi entered the command bubble. Several rendered assistance to the injured XO and unconscious aides, while the rest began clearing the battle debris and the bodies. One stepped close and seized Captain Gotta's wrists. The wet sound as he began dragging the body away set her stomach churning all over again. She couldn't seem to stop staring.
Vanessa startled. May's hand was at her shoulder, the soft touch bringing her back to herself. There was a Zentraedi approaching carrying a mop as tall as a mature tree in one hand, and a full bucket big enough to fill a small water tower in the other. The fumes of the cleaning solution in the bucket were so strong they stung Vanessa and May's eyes and sinuses, but it was better than the charnel stench of the battlefield. May called up to the man as he set his bucket on the deck.
"Crewman, please have a shallow basin of warm water brought to the nearest empty compartment. The Captain will be wanting to wash."
"Yes, milady."
May rolled her eyes and muttered, "milady?" under her breath, but thanked him. "I'll have Jose send someone to retrieve your bag from the camp," she said to Vanessa. "The captain takes care of the crew… but the crew take care of the captain, you know."
"Thank you, Allison."
It would help, but it would only wipe away the outward stains. She was not sure how she would face everything that awaited her back in Manhattan. The thought of all the people she would soon have to give account of herself to made her cringe. She prayed that Bron was alive, but after missing him so desperately for so long, now she dreaded seeing him. Would he even be able to understand how utterly disgusting she felt right now, all the way down to her soul?
Next chapter… revolution, white carnations, and a secure channel…