Emerald Flight: “Star Wing” (continued)

Hope steadied herself as the deck shifted beneath her feet. The Ensign on the bed before her required surgery, but the best Hope could do for now was to try to stabilize her. With the ship shaking sporadically from the attacks, invasive medical procedures of any kind would be far too risky. If the two battleships managed to obliterate the Emerald Flight, then her surgical skills would be moot. She administered a sedative and metabolic inhibitor, slowing the Ensign’s body functions until performing the necessary surgery was either safe or unavoidable.

Gesturing to a female Security Lieutenant to move the Ensign to the surgical bay, Hope turned to the next diagnostic bed. This Ensign was less seriously injured. Her wounds were chiefly external, the result of fragments from a ruptured bulkhead. Hope filled a hypo with a mild analgesic and pressed it against the Ensign’s neck. Within seconds, much of the pain-driven tension left the Ensign’s body. Reaching for a tray of instruments, Hope began the process of removing the fragments.

The deck rocked again. Hope looked toward the display above her desk and froze, her patient momentarily forgotten. She watched as the Star Wing soared between the hulls of the two massive warships, inflicting a disproportionate amount of damage as she did so. Weapon blasts detonated around her, but she glided onward, seemingly oblivious to them.

The weapons fire increased in frequency and intensity. Bright flares blossomed, flooding the image with light until the sensors’ filters could adjust again. Hope recognized the glow of two of them came from their own torpedoes, wondering why the Captain had decided to fire on the Star Wing. She realized quickly, though, that while targeted on that same trajectory, those torpedoes were meant to provide the Star Wing with cover fire.

Only two?

It was possible that the Tactical Officer was attempting to ration their remaining armaments, but Hope suspected the real reason: those were last available torpedoes—and the Captain had been willing to spend them for Star Wing’s defense.

Hope watched as the first of them detonated, triggered by blasts from the enemy vessel on their port side. The resulting explosion scattered some of the remaining projectiles, sending several them wobbling wildly off course. Most of them impacted harmlessly against drifting shards from the debris field. At least one, though, collided with the Emerald Flight’s hull. The subsequent tremor was small, but Hope still wondered what additional damage the ship had suffered.

The second torpedo continued on its path, trailing the Star Wing. Its drive, hit from a glancing burst from one of the enemy battleships, flared brightly. A moment later, it went dark and, while still carried forward by its previous momentum, began to drift. The Star Wing seemed unaware of it, Hope feared, even as it slowly arced into her flight path.

Several of the enemy’s beams found it, although perhaps by accident. Fueled by energies far greater than those it normally contained, its payload erupted like a miniature sun. The screen was awash in a white-yellow brilliance, causing Hope to look away for instant. When she looked back, the screen faded back to reveal the customary darkness. Within it however, except for the shadows of the two immense hulls, there was nothing but a few small drifting fragments.

The Star Wing was gone.