Читать книгу Refugees on Urloon - Melissa Aires - Страница 4

Prologue

Aboard the Toulous, Confederation Midspace Training Vessel

Wailing sirens woke Svana. Hull breach! She bolted up and sharp pain brought her fully awake. She was sitting on the floor in her office at the front of the supply room.

Security lights flashed through the small office, making her blinding headache even worse. Everything was in disarray, the items from her desk flung onto the floor.

Svana checked her safety suit settings. It showed the air supply was not in use so the deck must not have been breached. Her shoulder hurt but she was able to move her arm. Struggling to her feet, she peered out her door to see what was happening. She couldn’t remember much at first. The Armada closing in, red light, the warning siren, scrambling into her suit. After that…nothing. She couldn’t remember what happened after she got her suit running.

A containment wall blocked the corridor toward Medlab. Her two co-workers both had emergency med training so they had gone down to Medlab when things started looking dangerous. Svana had stayed in the supply office in case anyone needed anything.

The breach obviously was not on her side of the containment wall. A breach was bad. Her co-workers in Medlab were probably dead. What if she was the only one alive on the ship? Panic welled within her and Svana rushed back into her small office.

The Captain’s voice rang out over the com. Thank the stars.

“Status reports, now!”

She’d never heard him raise his voice. He sounded intense. Svana was relieved to know he was alive and apparently others were, too.

She hit her transmission button. “Support Staff Supply Officer Svana Morgas. Located in L Deck supply office. There is a containment wall right outside the supply room office. Medlab is on the other side and is inaccessible.”

“Crew present?”

“Only myself. My two coworkers were in the Medlab assisting the medtech.”

There was a long pause. Svana supposed the Captain was receiving status updates from the entire ship.

“Do you have access to medical supplies? Or are they lost behind the containment wall?”

“Yes, I’ve access. Supplies are kept in ship’s storage. But specialized equipment is only in Medlab.”

There was another pause. “I’m sending staff down to L Deck to assist in collecting medical supplies. We’ve numerous injuries to attend to. Come with them to B Deck. All crew report to B Deck main bridge.”

“Yes, sir.”

Svana found the correct section of the supply room and started gathering basic med supplies. Two young crew members, both with shocked white faces, joined her. “We’ll need a float,” one said. “We’ll have to climb the ladder. Lifts are out. We are on emergency power.”

They loaded supplies and she followed the young men to the access tube with the long ladder leading to B Deck. The ladder opened into another small access closet right off the bridge. Svana followed them up the ladder and stood in the entryway, looking about a chaotic scene of injured crew members spread around the bridge. All the computers were dark. Memories of the Asha attack on her homeworld many years ago flooded her. Svana had been among the able-bodied during that disaster, too, and worked in the med tents, her one surviving child sitting nearby as she helped the wounded and dying.

Captain Liam Ringel looked up. He wore his helmet with the visor up and a bloody gash showed above one eye. “Come and assist.”

“I don’t have B Level clearance, Sir. Svana Morgas, Support Staff Supply Officer.”

Svana wasn’t military, though she’d taken training and the Oath before coming aboard the Toulous. Support crew filled in the gaps so the actual military could do the high-tech jobs they were trained for.

“You have clearance now. All crew reports to bridge. There is a breach on Q Deck as well as the one on L Deck.”

Svana entered the bridge and began helping those she could. Soon it was obvious she and the Captain were the only ones with more than the most basic of med aid skills. The crew was all students, from about age eighteen to twenty-two, from privileged backgrounds. None had experienced the trauma of war as Liam and Svana had. Together they set care priorities, the young crew assisting them, applying basic aid.

“If we can stabilize the hull on L Deck, we can put the most severely injured in stasis until we can get medical assistance,” Captain Ringel said. “I am taking crew members with me to work on repairing the hull down there. Otherwise our severely injured have no chance for survival.”

Stasis chambers were located in Medlab.

“You’re in charge.” Captain Ringel caught her eyes in a long look. They both saw it–shock, disbelief, panic were all around them. It seemed like they were the only two levelheaded ones present. He nodded. “None of the students have more than basic med, and none have experience.”

“I had a similar experience years ago in the refugee camps after the Asha raid of New Cancun. After that I was in Center City during the raids.”

He made a quick announcement. “All crew assist Support Staff Officer Svana. She’s in charge of medical. I am taking a crew to fix the hull breach. If possible.”

Captain Ringel and several crew members left down the same ladder Svana had ascended.

“All emergency suits stay on until further notice,” Svana barked as a young man started to remove his thick suit.

Her experience in the refugee camps years ago came back to her during the ensuing hours. The crew members were all so young, academy students sent to do noncombat recording and communication assignments on the edge of the Adrazine battle. Now several were dead, and more would die since they had no real medical staff or computers.

Several hours later the Captain again came on the suits’ coms. “Svana, report.”

Svana hit her com speaker. “This is Support Staff Svana. Four of the most severely injured have died. Seventeen are unconscious, a few have lost too much blood to survive unless we can transfuse. Eight have broken limbs and twelve have concussions that render them incapable of assisting with the remaining injured. Minor injuries such as cuts and sprains are now being attended. Two are exhibiting signs of severe emotional distress. I sedated them.”

“Carry on. Send able-bodied crew to Q Deck to remove what personal kits we can and to take bedding and cots to the conference rooms. We will be removing a portion of Q Deck hull to repair L Deck. Systems based on L Deck are crucial to our survival. “

Several more crew died while the captain and crew were repairing the hull. It was heartbreaking to watch young people die of injuries that competent staff and equipment could have repaired. But she’d seen this before.

Svana sent crew down to Supply to bring up readypacs and got everyone she could to rest in the conference room. The banging and clatter of the hull repair sounded even up to the B Deck, but the exhausted crew slept. Svana dozed when she could.

Captain Ringel and the flight crew came back, looking exhausted. “We’ll be able to transfer patients into stasis in Medlab in an hour or so, when the temperature normalizes.”

Svana nodded and gave the Captain a full report, along with readypacs for him and the flyers. Captain Ringel ordered them to bed and he and Svana left for the conference room, silent.

“Are they all right?” Svana asked.

He shrugged. “No one saw any stars or constellations we recognize. We think we got flung out to deep space through a new jumpstream.”

“We are lost?” Lost in deep space. A death sentence.

“Think so. We’ll know more when the computers come back online.”

The news was not good and did not get better after the computers came back on. They were deep in uncharted space, and there was no way to know if the jumpstream that had dumped them here would return them to Confederated system space. Though they tried around the clock, they were unable to communicate with anyone. Their small damaged ship was truly alone. They had enough supplies to last for perhaps sixty days. After that, the ship’s fuel would be gone, and they would die in deep space.

Captain Ringel wouldn’t let them give up. They continued with repairs and communication but the mood was quiet, with bursts of anger.

The crew was so young. Svana mourned for their lost futures, and for her own daughter, so far away, whom she would never see again. Many nights, Svana held a weeping young one in her arms, giving what comfort she could.

Going about rote chores in her supply room, Svana heard a shout from her open com. She climbed the ladder as fast as she could. The entire bridge was in a shouting, laughing uproar.

Their distress signal had reached someone. Captain Ringel was talking to the contact in the small conference room. Svana waited with the crew for him to come out, hoping for good news, for a future.

“Urloon. It reached a planet called Urloon,” Lu, one of the junior engineers, said.

“Isn’t that a First World Planet? I remember learning something about Urloon in first school,” another crew member said.

A com tech’s finger glided over the com board. “Yes. Urloon. Settled by first wave Terran settlers but was left isolated for centuries while Terra fought the Terran Civil War. Water… Wow! Water-adapted humans live in domes in the warm seas. They adapted themselves at the DNA level to bear young already able to live in the sea.”

Captain Ringel came back onto the crowded bridge and his smile was blinding. “Urloon, a former Terran colony out on the Rim, is sending a rescue ship. They will be here within twelve days.”

There were twenty days left of life support. The crew erupted into joyous shouts, leaping and laughing so the floor shook. In the tumult Captain Ringel’s gaze caught her own. He nodded slightly, and Svana knew it was an acknowledgement of the work they had done together.