The Epherium Chronicles: Embrace (14 page)

Hood grimaced slightly. “Any chance you could make mine a salad, Raf?” Both men laughed, and they moved toward the Command Deck exit. “I’m headed to my quarters. I’ll check the progress of Mr. Whitaker’s refit in the morning.”

“Get some rest, sir. Today was a good day,” Sanchez said with an approving smile, and Hood exited the Command Deck and walked steadily toward the elevator lift doors.

Chapter Eleven

EDF Armstrong
Proxima System Exterior Zone
Monday
,
January 20
Earth Year 2155

The high pitch ringing in his head roused him from unconsciousness.
The ringing grew louder as he struggled to move
,
and he barely managed to roll over onto his back.
He placed his hands to his head and clutched it tightly to make the throbbing pain go away
,
but it did little to ease it.
He opened his eyes to view his surroundings
,
but the ringing wouldn’t let him focus.
Double vision was the best he could manage.
What had happened?

He lay on the floor for a few moments
,
and the ringing receded slightly.
His vision improved to the point that we wasn’t seeing double anymore.
He rolled onto his side then tried to stand
,
but quickly fell to his knees.
Staying in his current position was even proving difficult
,
his equilibrium was a mess.

His breathing was labored
,
and he soon realized that his vision wasn’t impaired just by the pulsating pain
,
but by the thick smoke that now hovered a few feet above the floor.
The smoke stung his lungs and caused him to cough.
He dropped to his belly to avoid it.

He could hear the sounds of sparks exploding from panels on walls all around him and could see flashes through the smoke.
This much smoke was bad;
if the air purification system had failed
,
they were all in trouble.

He could hear moaning from a few of the bridge staff nearby and he looked forward for signs of life.
He found the captain’s chair and slowly crawled forward to it.
It was slow going
,
but once he reached the base of the chair
,
he noticed the smoke wasn’t as thick around it.
He tore a piece of his uniform sleeve
,
held it over his face as a makeshift mask and used the chair to pull himself to his knees.

His vision was clearer now
,
and he could see Captain McElroy slumped over the arm of the chair.
He edged around the chair to the front and took a deep breath as he released his mask from his face.
He eased McElroy off of the chair and laid him gently onto the floor.
McElroy’s face was partially blackened on the left side from an electrical burn
,
and blood dripped from his nose and ears.
Horrified
,
he frantically searched for a pulse.
He relaxed slightly as he found a strong pulse
,
but he couldn’t rouse the captain to consciousness.

A
hand grabbed his shoulder
,
and he jerked back in surprise.
“
James
,
what the hell happened
,”
Jason Armitage yelled and nearly collapsed beside him.

“
Systems overload
,
I
think.
We need
...”
he coughed
, “
We need to put out these fires and regain control.
”
Armitage nodded and stumbled toward the fire extinguishers on the wall to his left.

He replaced the mask back over his face and rose slowly to his feet.
Moving with unsteady confidence
,
he made his way to the Helmsman Station.
Three motionless crew members lay in the way
,
and he barely managed his way past without falling on one of them.

He could hear the sound of fire extinguishers around the bridge and the rush of fans as the air system roared to life
,
attempting to clear the smoke.
He managed to reach the Helmsman Station and could see one of the two station operators slumped forward in her chair
,
the other one on the floor.
He knelt next to the one on the floor.
“
Terry
,
can you hear me?
”

He turned over him slowly.
Terry Fisher’s body rolled limply on its back
,
his head at a very odd angle.
Terry’s neck was clearly broken
,
his eyes open and motionless.

He nearly fell backward in shock at the sight.
He had never seen death up front and personal as this.
His best friend was gone.
He couldn’t move
,
he could barely breathe.

A
groan from the other helmsman shook him from his paralysis
,
and he scrambled to her side.
“
Lina!
Lina!
Are you okay?
”
he asked.

She shook her head and looked at him.
“
James?
Yeah.
My head hurts
,
but I’m okay.
What happened?
”

“
Our systems overloaded when we came through the last gate.
We need to gain control of the ship.
Will she answer the helm?
”

She checked her station.
Power was still functional.
She typed a few commands and engine and navigation status appeared.
“
We have power
,
but engines are straining to slow us down
...”
She sat up straight and gasped.

He looked at her face then followed her gaze.
The smoke had cleared the bridge
,
and the main viewport was no longer obscured.
He could see two ships ahead in the distance
,
one an EEF drop ship
,
and the other one he didn’t recognize.
Flashes from the drop ship clearly stated that she was firing on the other vessel.
Both grew larger in the viewport.
Their ship was closing on the two vessels rapidly.

A
collision alarm sounded throughout the bridge as he scrambled to his feet beside the Helmsman.
“
Evasive!
”
he yelled.

Suddenly
,
everything around him stopped.
Just stopped.
He looked at Lina then at the rest of the command crew.
Everyone had frozen in place in mid-action.
He looked at the view screen.
The ships were no longer drawing closer and seemed to be affected as well.

He moved to Jason and grabbed him by the shoulders.
He tried to shake him
,
but it was like moving a solid iron statue.
He couldn’t budge him
,
nor did he even recognize his attempt to move him.

He moved back to his own station
,
sat down in his chair
,
and placed his head in his hands.
Nothing made sense.

His terminal screen activated
,
and he quickly looked over at the only sign of life.
A
single figure was visible
,
Captain McElroy.
His features were the same as a few moments ago
,
but he was clearly conscious.

He looked over at McElroy’s prone form still on the floor.
He shook his head and looked back at the terminal.

McElroy started to speak.
“
It’s your fault.
”

He stood from his chair and stared stunned at the terminal screen.
The visage of McElroy changed to that of an older man in a wheel chair.
He spoke again.
“
It’s your fault.
You did this.
”

An image of his friend
,
Terry Fisher
,
walked up beside McElroy in the wheelchair.
It was the same Terry that lay broken on the floor only a few meters away.
“
It’s your fault
,”
they said in unison.

Terry continued
, “
I
would be alive today if it wasn’t for what you did.
”

More images of dead crew members from around the ship began to appear around them on the screen.
Their voices added to McElroy’s and Fisher’s
,
and as they spoke their voices began to resonate inside his head.
“
You did this.
It’s all your fault.
You did this
...”

Hood woke from the dream clutching his head tightly with his hands. His hair and face were soaked in sweat, as was his pillow, and his heart was racing. He breathed deeply and tried to relax, but now his hands started to shake. Steadily, he swung his feet over the side of his bed, placed his hands behind his head, closed his eyes and just breathed.

It didn’t help. He could still feel his heart racing from the dream and knew his face had to be flushed. He stood from his bed, walked to the bathroom sink and poured a glass of water. Hood drank it eagerly. He grabbed a towel, soaked it in cold water from his sink, and patted it all over his face and neck. He finally sensed his body calming.

He looked back at the clock beside his bed. It read 06:00. His alarm was set for 06:30. Hood knew there was no point trying to go back to sleep. He turned on the coffee maker and jumped in the shower. His new aide would be here soon. He wanted to be up, moving and dressed before he arrived. The boy didn’t need to see him like this.

Hood managed to finish his shower, quickly dress and consume nearly half a cup of his coffee before his aide chimed the door. He met him as he entered. “Mr. Martin. Glad to see you’re awake.” Hood smiled at the young Petty Officer as he snapped to attention. “I left you my uniform for tomorrow, and I need you to clear my schedule for this morning. I need to head to Medical. Dandy of a headache.”

“Aye, sir,” Martin replied looking a bit perplexed. He collected himself as Hood began to leave the room. “Would like me to pick you up some breakfast?”

“Excellent idea, Mr. Martin. Whatever the cook has as his special, and any of the fresh fruit will do. I shouldn’t be long.” Hood walked out of his quarters and headed down the hall.

After the door shut, Hood paused slightly and rubbed his temples. His head was indeed throbbing, and the caffeine from the coffee wasn’t cutting it. There were still several jumps along the way to Cygni, and he needed his faculties. He didn’t want to share too much with the Chief Medical Officer, but maybe he had a treatment that could curb the nightmares and give him some relief. He picked up his pace and headed to the elevator lift. The sooner he got to Medical, the better.

* * *

Hood paused outside the medical center entry doors. He hated visiting doctors, even when he was sick. Too many doctors, in his opinion, would give suggestions as to what could be wrong, and their suggestions would often make him feel even worse. And once they finished with the laundry list of potential ailments, they would finally settle on the real one and offer a method of treatment. Meanwhile, the anxiety they had caused him made the actual illness or injury the lesser of his problems. He liked a direct approach from a physician. This is what it is, and this is how we are going to treat it. Any other grand contemplation of medical phenomena, they could keep to themselves, he thought.

Hood straightened and marched firmly toward the double sliding doors to the medical center, which opened smoothly as he closed within a few feet. The medical center was broken up into several areas. At the front, a triage nurse sat behind a small desk quietly reading her data pad. Two small examination areas were to the left and right for initial check in and diagnosis of patients. Behind the nurses desk was another set of double sliding doors that led to the primary treatment center and doctor’s offices.

The triage nurse, a young blonde ensign, immediately recognized Captain Hood and stood behind her desk. She didn’t assume an attention position, but rather a relaxed and inviting stance as she addressed him. “Captain, so glad to see you. How may we help you today?”

Taken slightly aback by the ensign’s informality, Hood raised an eyebrow then responded almost hesitantly. “Good morning, Ensign. I just need to see Dr. Patton, if he’s available.”

“He is with another patient at the moment. Is this visit duty related or medical in nature?” the young ensign asked with a polite smile.

“Uhh... Actually, it is medically related. Just need to get some meds for a pounding headache,” Hood said as he tried to divert any more questions.

The nurse moved around her desk and gestured Hood toward the station to his left. “Please, Captain, take a seat. I need to take your vitals and let Dr. Patton know you are here.”

“Just for a headache? This seems a bit much for a simple issue,” Hood tried to explain.

“Captain,” the ensign’s voice became firmer, “it is important that I make these simple diagnostic checks. If there was something more involved with your condition, these tests could help us detect it.”

Hood nearly flopped into the patient chair of the triage station and frowned at the ensign. “I could order you just to stop,” Hood grumbled.

The ensign smiled widely. “Captain, you know the regulations. While in treatment due to a medical condition, you as a patient must follow all medical staff instructions. Treatment or diagnosis outweighs standard military protocol.”

“Fine,” Hood continued to grumble. “You don’t have to act so happy about it.”

“Dr. Patton’s orders, Captain.”

“He wants you all to take pleasure in not listening to command staff.”