The last thing Jason remembered was a beam collapsing from the ceiling and smashing into the helm.
“Cassidy!”
His eyes slowly opened, and some light appeared through the blurriness.
“Cassidy, can you hear me?”
“Nash…” Jason blinked, allowing his vision to get used to the light above the concerned face of his friend. “Where… How?”
Nash dragged him to his feet and sat him in his chair in front of the ruined helm console. It all started to come back to him.
“That would explain why my head feels so numb.” Jason rubbed the large bruise on the right hand side of his face.
“You were lucky.” Nash inspected him closely. “Doesn’t seem like any major damage to that face of yours. Ensign Robinson will be pleased.”
Jason ignored him. “What the hell happened to us?”
“The Bombay detonated a tritonium torpedo off our bow.”
“Off our bow? It didn’t hit us?”
“No.”
Jason couldn’t make sense of it. “It’s as if they didn’t want to destroy us.”
Nash nodded in agreement. “It did enough damage. When you were knocked out, I transferred the helm to my station and brought the ship back to equilibrium.”
Jason surveyed the command deck. A team of medics had arrived from the Sickbay. One came up to him and sprayed a healing agent on his face. After waving the medic away, he peered down into the command pit. He immediately leaped from his seat at the scene of destruction.
Fallen beams, cables and twisted metal had crushed the command station at the center of the pit. On the other side of it four medics and Chief Lin stood solemnly around a pair of bodies. Jason rushed down to them as they placed sheets over Captain Pizzeri and Commander Riggs.
Chief Lin stopped him before he could reach them and the numbness of Jason’s face ran down his body. “I’m in command.”
Lin nodded, clearly doing his best not to show any emotion. “Yes.”
Everyone around the command deck stared at him, while the medics put Pizzeri and Riggs on stretchers, and walked them off the command deck.
“We can mourn the fallen later.” The Chief grabbed Jason by the arm and pulled him in. “Now it’s time to finish what we started.”
It was sage advice as usual. Jason straightened his back, cleared his throat, and turned to Ensign Kennebeck. “Damage report.”
She waved away a blonde lock of hair. “Propulsion and weapons are down. Three decks are crippled, but emergency bulkheads are holding. Damage control teams are en route to the most affected areas of the ship.”
“Casualties?”
She did a double take on her monitor, doing her best to keep her composure. “Current projections are at least twenty people.”
Jason closed his eyes. Grieve later. He reopened them and turned to Ortega. “What about the Bombay?”
“They’re still on the same course. Heading straight for the nebula. They’ll enter the outer layer in four minutes.”
“It got them the time they needed.”
Lin raised an eyebrow as if a lightbulb blinked on in his head. “The torpedo. Tyrell didn’t want to destroy us. He wanted to give himself time to escape.”
Jason couldn’t answer why someone from the Centauri rebellion wouldn’t want to destroy their enemy. It was a question for another day.
“If they enter that nebula, we’ll lose him,” Nash said from the upper level.
Jason had already studied TPA-338’s profile knowing it was impervious to scans. Once an object entered the nebula, they’d be unable to find it. And considering it measured three light-years across, it was a great hiding place. “Then we won’t let him get away.”
Nash and Lin looked at each other. “What plan are you cooking up, Cassidy?” Lin asked.
Without answering, Jason hurried up the steps to the upper level and activated the ship’s intercom on Ortega’s console. “Cassidy to Hangar Deck.”
“Howe here. Go ahead,” the Raptor’s gruff but loveable deck chief responded over the din of activity.
“What’s your situation down there?”
“We took a hell of a beating—”
“Is the hangar door still operational?”
“Yeah. Surprisingly.”
“What about a pod?”
There was a brief silence. “Most of them were thrown around when we were hit by the shock wave. But I can probably rustle up Pod Three for you.”
“Thank you, Chief. Make it quick. I’ll be down soon. Cassidy out.”
On the scanners the Bombay’s blip had continued moving ever closer to the outer layer of the nebula.
“You’re going after him in a pod?” Nash said incredulously. “Your scanners won’t work. You’ll be blind as a bat in there.”
Jason tried not to roll his eyes at Nash stating the obvious. “You’re right, but with any luck, considering how dense that nebula is, the Bombay should create a wake in its path.”
Lin smiled. “Like an old ship on one of Earth’s oceans.”
“Exactly.”
Nash shook his head. “It’s risky.”
Jason couldn’t argue with that. “Yes, but they’ll be just as blind as me. If I can find the Bombay, I’ll be able to attach a homing beacon to their hull. When they come up for air, whether it be tomorrow, next week, or next month, we’ll have their position. That is unless you have any other ideas.”
His friend brushed sweat from his brow and shook his head. “I guess it’s our best bet.”
“There is one problem,” Lin remarked.
“Oh?” Jason turned to the chief.
“The pilot of the pod,” he whispered. “It can’t be you.”
“But—”
“We’ve lost our commanding officer and XO; we can’t afford to lose our second officer as well.”
Jason hadn’t considered that. It was his plan. His life to risk. He’d never had to make the decision to send anyone in his place before. And, frankly, didn’t want to start now.
“It has to be me,” Nash said.
Jason especially didn’t want to send his best friend.
Lin nodded. “He’s right. He’s the next most senior pilot.”
Jason opened his mouth to fight it. He was, after all, in command, but Lin was also right. He was always right. The commanding officer needed to be on the
