Blood Impulse

Part 24.3 - ONE SURVIVOR

Argo Sector, Battleship Singularity

It took every crewman they had available, but they completed the security sweep. Bow to stern, port to starboard, the entire ship had been searched for enemy personnel and devices. It fell to Robinson to make the final announcement. "Ship is secure, sir."

As far as the Admiral was concerned, a quick confirmation from the ghost made that a fact. Once again, the ship was theirs, with no attackers lurking and no transponders prepared to give up their location. "Begin jump prep," he commanded. "We will rendezvous with the fleet and continue repairs."

The battle had done a number on the ship, particularly the hull. It would take days to repair the breaches and refit the armor. Additionally, the damaged engine remained too hot to inspect. Its condition was unknown, and weighed heavily on the Admiral's mind.

Engine repairs were generally tricky, often too complex to do without the support of a shipyard, but it went without saying that they were on their own. They could either fix that engine on their own or they wouldn't be able to fix it at all. If unable, then for the most part, it would be business as usual. With only three engines, the ship could still maneuver, but would be a slower target, which gave Command an advantage the Singularity couldn't afford to lose.

He regretted the damage. He always did. It pained him to put the machine through such abuse, but he understood that refusing to fight on such a basis would be a severe disrespect to the ship. Taking damage and fighting for others was her purpose for existence. To ignore that would be to ignore the identity that made the ship so special. Attempting to rescue the Gargantia's survivors justified the battle and the damage, but to actually save one of those lives, that would make it worth it.

"Sir, Doctor Macintosh just sent word that one of the Gargantia's crewmen has woken."

Right on time, considering his thoughts had gone in that direction. "Understood," he told Robinson.

When the Admiral turned to him, Zarrey simply shrugged, "Go. We can handle the jump." That was a relatively basic operation. "Just hurry back. I'm starting to think those civvies are never going to like me."

"I find that hard to believe, Colonel. How could anyone dislike a personality as boisterous as yours?"

"Haha, yeah," the XO chuckled. Wait... "Was that sarcasm?" The question went unanswered. The Admiral was already gone, and the crew on the bridge was laughing at Zarrey's expense. "Son of a bitch."

Elsewhere in the ship's maze of corridors, Lieutenant Elizabeth Foster opened her eyes to strange surroundings. The smell of sterile equipment and blood assaulted her nostrils, easily recognizable as the odor of a medical bay. Opening her eyes though, it was immediately obvious that wherever she was, it wasn't the Gargantia.

Suddenly alert, she bolted up and nearly blacked out again, the movement far too fast. But panic kept her up, meeting the two sets of large, frightened eyes that stared up from the foot of the bed, their owners only children.

Children. One of the civilian ships must have pulled her from the Gargantia's central computer room. No, the civvies didn't have the resources to do that, and the curtains around her bed were the same standard-issue, slate gray that the Gargantia's had been. This was a military ship.

The pair of children stared up at her curiously, cowering by her feet. The little girl seemed ready to bolt, trembling with fear. Unsure what to do or say, Foster simply stared back until she saw the curtain ripple.