Several compartments forwards had not yet been reached by the rescue teams. Any crew left alive in them would likely be in the dark, weightless and disoriented. As the captain she had to remain impassive. She had to appear to be in complete control, undeterred by any setback. The only way she knew to do that was to lock out the horror for now and just focus on running through checklists. Usually it worked its way out later in her nightmares.
Rousing herself, Johnson walked over to Levarsson’s empty tactical console and logged in. She started running simulations. They couldn’t do anything now but she had to assume they’d get Repulse working again.
#
Pain. That’s new. At first it was just the sensation of bruises starting to form on one side of his body. Then he became aware of the burns. I must have been blocking it out earlier. Adrenaline, it is probably due to adrenaline. Why can I not move?
#
With Repulse able to move and fight she had been in control. She made decisions and took the consequences. Now she felt like a spare wheel. Everyone on the bridge knew their jobs; micromanaging would simply undermine them. Johnson decided to show her face around the ship. It would boost the crew’s confidence and help her judge their morale. It would also stop her dwelling on the lives lost because of her failure.
She entered the hive of activity in engineering. A group worked in one corner. Individuals tapped at their workstations or carried components around. Lieutenant-Commander George Honeywood, the chief engineer, hailed her from underneath a bank of electronics. “Grab hold of this would you Olivia?” They had been in Basic together before choosing different paths. He was one of the reasons she had chosen Repulse when she was given a choice of commands last month. It was reassuring to have a few ‘old’ faces around nowadays. Kneeling down she took the proffered cable. “So, how do you think Proceris 5 will go?” he asked, continuing their conversation from last night as if nothing worth commenting upon had happened since. Johnson relaxed a fraction, welcoming the sense of normality. “I think they’ll side against us. Their population is feeling the effects of truly incompetent leadership; the Senate offers representation by profession. Education policy decided by teachers, military spending governed by veterans. That will be very attractive to them right now.” “Yes, but their current leaders would rather keep their jobs, I suspect. They were elected to represent their regions, just like Congress. They’ll point out that only they can bring local issues to the big table.” He poked his head out. “Done. You’ll be pleased to know that there’s only two more of those to do and you should be able to see through a gun camera.” There was a loud bang as a power line ruptured. Blue and yellow sparks showered the techs in the corner. Honeywood ran to cut the connection, and Johnson checked on the crew. No-one had been killed. One had a deep burn to her arm and was already being treated by her work buddy. Johnson started helping with the dressings whilst keeping an eye on the others for signs of shock. She read the casualty’s ID, Specialist Simone. With a smile she realized that her rescuer was Specialist Patta. So, those words I had with him last week sunk home. He’s lucky I gave him a second chance after he abandoned his buddy on a spacewalk drill.
#
It was odd. He could feel the pain but it didn’t seem to be happening to him. He’d heard that some of the more powerful pain-killers did that. Morphine or ketamine or pentanamine.
Or perhaps his brain just wasn’t working properly yet. Perhaps he had something like concussion. His thoughts seemed to have a time lag. Every time he tried too hard to focus on an idea it evaporated.
#
Half an hour later and Johnson settled into her chair once more. Her ship was waking up and she had