The Journey Home Part 5

A crackle and hiss was all the warning Caleb got for the large Haqqlisamite to grab the young Nomad engineer under the floor panel and yank him out, tossing him back into a wall in the corridor with a thud. Just as he pulled the young man out, fire and sparks erupted from the crawlspace as wires and components shorted and caught fire. The acrid smoke of burning electronics filled the air as the hall was plunged into darkness, and the artificial gravity failed.

“Damn it all, did you see what happened?” Caleb asked angrily at the young Nomad man who was tapping a light on his head to illuminate the area.

“Yea, it looked like a spliced power relay failure.” The man sighed, floating up off the deck, “Someone installed a diverter not rated for the pass through. I only noticed at the last minute. Thanks for the save.”

As the fire roared in front of them, they both grabbed a micro-extinguisher from their belts and doused the flames in a chemical foam. After a few moments, the fire died. Crouching down and looking into the crawlspace, Caleb's geist advised him that power was dead to the circuit, shut off from the bridge.

“Alright, looks like we’re safe to work. Get in there and start cutting out the splice and components. I will go grab a properly rated piece to install.”

Grabbing a cutting tool from a nearby, now floating, tool chest, the Nomad gently kicked off the wall and into the crawl space, “Aye aye, Abuelito!”

“Call me Abuelito again and I am leaving you in there.” Caleb yelled as he floated down the hallway.

The HNS adh-Dhi’b had now been underway for five days, and those days were filled with the engineering teams chasing power glitches, technical faults, electrical fires, and shearing of hull plates. None of them have had much sleep, even with the rotating shifts. There simply were not enough engineers on the ship, so they were all working to try and make sure the vessel made it to Concilium Prima. Injuries were common with lack of sleep and the work with heavy equipment and cutting tools. This further reduced the number of available engineers, and many had bandages on their extremities.

After floating for a few minutes passed groups grumbling about the darkness and lack of gravity, Caleb was greeted with a lit section of the ship, and as he crossed the threshold, he fell down to the deck as the artificial gravity grabbed his body. Groaning and standing up, he brushed off his jump suit and continued on his way through the ship, looking for the storage room for power diverters. One of the few blessings the ship had was that they had salvaged everything around them when they were dead in the water, hoarding components like some fantastical dragon. Pieces and parts were piled all over the ship. If the engineers needed something, they simply had to find the right room with the right pile. His geist scrolled his augmented reality in front him, listing and pointing out parts that might help with the issue he had. Finally he saw a label that could help “Zhouying Part #325 1MW Rated”. It was a Yu Jing part, but it could work.

“Caleb, I got you something.” The voice of Fahim announced the presence of the large Khawarij behind him.

Turning, Caleb saw the man holding a sandwich and a water bottle. Suddenly the engineer's stomach growled as he was reminded it had been a number of hours since he last ate. He quickly made his way over to the large man and took the sandwich with a quick thanks and began wolfing it down.

Handing the engineer the bottle of water, Fahim walked past him into the room and lifted the large heavy part with ease, “Was this the piece you were getting? Let me help. Eat that while we walk.”

Caleb nodded, and motioned to follow him, leading the way out of the room. Fahim followed closely, carrying the diverter under his arm. They walked silently for a few moments while he finished the sandwich and some of the water. Sighing with relief, he recognized his Nomad partner had not eaten recently either and dug through some of the boxes and crates in the hallway for a couple of protein bar rations. Stuffing them in his pockets and zipping them up, he walked with the khawarij.

“How's Palavi holding up?” Caleb asked, breaking the silence.

“Probably similarly to you, my friend. She’s been busy taking care of electrocutions, and burns. We are all doing what we can to help, but alas, I am no doctor or engineer.” the large man said with a sigh.

“No, but you make an excellent forklift it seems.”

Fahim gave a smile and chuckled.

The two reached the dark section of the ship and pushed off into the corridor and began floating down the darkness. After a couple turns, they floated up to the young nomad, who was suspended in the hallway playing with a pack of peanuts and flicking them into his mouth. Caleb had a confused look on his face.

“Where did you get those?”

“The peanuts? I always have food on me. It’s not the first time I had to keep a ship together. You never want to leave food behind. That’s like…Spacer 101, Abuelito. Oh is that the diverter?

Caleb shook his head sighing, “Yes, that's the diverter, snack breaks over, get it installed kid.”

“Si! Hey el forzudo, move that thing over here.”

The Nomad pulled himself down to the floor panel motioning to Fahim, and helped guide the power diverter into place. Flipping out a couple tools, he began splicing wires into place and securing the piece to the ship. After about thirty minutes he pulled himself out, whipping his forehead, and began reviewing a power read out on a small device.

“Okay….it looks stable. I think we’re good to go.”

Caleb pinged the bridge with the power readings, “Bridge, it looks like this section is good to repower.”

After a few moments the lights came back to life, and the three men settled down onto the floor, followed by the clatter of loose tools. The group got the floor panel replaced and secured, gathering the collection of tools around the area. Leaving the broken power diverter in the corridor for later, Fahim slung one of the tool boxes over his shoulder and joined the two engineers on their walk back to the machining spaces. The machinists area of the ship had grown haphazardly as its use exploded during the repair of the ship. Work benches, and large hydraulic machines spilled out into the adjacent rooms as a multitude of sweat-slicked men and women worked tirelessly machining replacement parts from a large number of different manufacturers and shaping hull plating to act as replacements.

No sooner had they set their tools down on racks, than Calebs comlog pinged a new task for him. One of the water treatment facilities was not working properly and needed help. Sighing, he motioned for his Nomad compatriot to get his equipment. Shaking Fahims hand and thanking him for the assistance, the two headed out, the large Khawarij standing awkwardly in the doorway. After a moment he decided to check in on his commander, and headed for the hangar. It was not easy navigating the crowded halls of the ship, and there were several times he had to help move some crates and equipment, but after a half hour he finally made it to his units berthing in the ship.

The hangar was a mess of people, materials, and sickbeds. Most of the heavily injured crew who were incapacitated were here, under care, to make space in the clinic for less severe injuries that could be turned around. Khadim and Palavi mostly managed the space, working their way up and down the lines of cots. The other half of the hangar was where the Roc was stored, its large turbine tipped wings folded back and the transport craft lashed down. Sitting on the edge of the opened door and speaking with Khepri, the small and lithe Namurr Operative, was Ra’id Maih Aafah, Task Force 27’s commander. Dressed in green and khaki fatigues, the long haired, dark woman sat on the edge of the Roc, leaning against the frame.

As Fahim approached, Khepri turned to him, her feline pupiled eyes studying him quickly before she greeted him, “Fahim, you have been out for a while. Get all your errands finished?”

“I am simply wandering around, helping where I can. Unlike some, I cannot simply lay around all day.” Fahim smiled as he crossed his arms over his chest, looking down on the woman as he stretched to his full nearly, seven foot height.

The small Namurr Operative gave a cheshire grin, “Come now, you cannot work too hard. Cat naps keep you refreshed, and healthy!”

Ignoring the woman, Fahim turned to Maih, “The engineers are getting worn out, Caleb is probably going to need at least a week off once we make port.”

Maih nodded, “Agreed, Khadim mentioned the increased cases of engineering injuries coming through. Head up a team to provide support where you can, manual labor or running food. Those types of things. We can’t do much but we have hands and feet.”

“Aye, Ra’id. I can lead that.” Fahim playfully pushed Khepri who was leaning against him off, and headed towards a large group of the unit working on training.

Maih watched him leave as Khepri hopped up onto the deck of the Roc and took a seat, hanging her feet off and humming a tune.

“So you were trying to convince me to get you issued a machine gun?” Maih asked, continuing their previous conversation.

“Yes.” Khepri was examining her painted nails, picking at the chipping.

“Is that your whole argument?”

“Argument? I figured it was in all of our best interest.”

“The best I can do is an AS Fateh.”

“I already have that in the armory!” The Namurr bemoaned, pouting.

“By Allah, you are the most unprofessional, professional I have ever known. Write a letter to High Command, see if they listen to you.” Maih dropped down from her seat, straightening her fatigues. “I need to go check in on the rest of the unit, good luck.

Khepri flopped back with a thud and released a dramatic groan.
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“Quantronics, keep an eye on our firewalls.” Fayaz was watching the identifications of the ships around Concilium Prima, most of them being Combined Army signatures.

The space around the planet was littered with the remains of orbital defenses, and spacecraft of varying nations, both military and civilian. The Combined Army vessels prowled around the planet and among the Human fleets like predators, the malevolent design of their hulls standing at odds to the less advanced Human Sphere ships. The Haqqislamite cruiser glided through space towards the planet's rings, until a smaller vessel approached and opened communications.

“HNS adh-Dhi’b this is Pilot Ship 452, you are scheduled for Port 4, Repair Dock 23, can you confirm?”

The communications officer replied quickly, “Yes, HNS adh-Dhi’b can confirm, passing code.”

“Confirmed, please pass control of the helm to us, and we will guide you in.”

After a few quick swipes on her control panel, the woman at the helm nodded to navigation, “Pilot Ship 452, you now have control.”

The crew sat back, watching the screens as the ship was pulled along by the pilot. As they got closer to the docks, they were able to see more and more damaged and destroyed vessels. Ships damaged to the point of being less than scrap, and others with sections blown away. Still others had chemical and electrical fires burning, as all the nations of the Sphere were represented in their destruction. After an hour they finally arrived at their dock, the ship slowly pulled into a cradle alongside the space station. Large mechanical arms extended out to either side of the ship as the magnetic clamps found purchase on the hull, and with a loud thunk, activated. The ship now securely fastened to the facility. Cables, and hoses were flown out and attached via remotes, and quickly systems started stabilizing, and water was flushed through the plumbing of the ship. The bridge crew gave an audible sigh as they finally made it to a port and were no longer responsible for the ship trying to kill itself. Throughout the vessel, engineers collapsed, their services finally coming to an end.

Fayaz sat back and breathed out slowly before addressing the bridge, “We made it, well done. Engineering, I want a report on system integrities, and a report on breakages. Weapons, I need a report on ammo and weapon loss, Quantronics, I need a report on firewall breakthroughs, and systems diagnostics for malware and worms. 24 hours after docking, all ship personnel are to be given leave for 2 months as per Naval Command. Get your work done before then.”

Standing up, Fayaz left the bridge for his room. Now that the ship was linked with the dock, he had a short window to have a shower and clean his uniform. Representatives of Naval Command will be coming to inspect the ship personally, which was an oddity, but one he needed to prepare for. It only took him a minute to reach his personal room, strewn with salvage and medical equipment. He readily gave it over to the medical officers for secure storage. It had been a week since he had last taken a shower he realized as he peeled his sweaty and dirty clothes off. As the hot water hit him, the dirt, grime, and some of the stress began washing away. He gave himself a few minutes to simply stand there, letting the water wash over him, the heat soothing his tensed muscles.

His shower after that was quick, and he managed to find a clean uniform in his drawers, purple pants with gold trim, and a black leather belt. He wore a white blouse tucked in as he adorned his purple coat with gold epaulets. He worked to shine his leather boots as best he could, before strapping his family's saber to his belt, last was a modern officers cap, white topped. Looking in the mirror, his geist was quick to advise him of the detrimental effects of a poor diet and lack of sleep. His frame was thinner, his eyes darkened and recessed by the loss of rest. Making some final details on the uniform, he left his quarters making his way to the station access hatch. The visible weariness of the crew hit him even harder after seeing the transformation the shower made on him, but they still straightened and saluted with smiles. ‘Aqid Fayaz Aafah’s leadership brought them home, and the respect they had for their Captain was huge.

The hatch to the access tube was already open and a group of three officers from Haqqislam Naval Command stood waiting, looking over the interior of the ship. As he arrived he came to attention with a salute of his fist over his heart and slight bow. The officer group returned it quickly, before letting themselves smile as a commodore addressed him.

“‘Aqid Aafah, you acquitted yourself well in returning the ship and your crew home. Well done, sir.”

Another captain nodded and continued, “Indeed, well done getting home. We have received a preliminary report of events sent via your geist on what had happened, along with system generated ship logs. The department viewed it as quite the drama, and seeing the ship in berth now, it seems much less like fiction. Allah only knows how you survived.”

The commodore motioned for Fayaz to lead the way, “You will be recommended for a medal of merit, exactly which one is still being decided, but the ship will receive a battle star and the crew cited. This ship review is primarily to take account of what the damage is and a preliminary estimate time to completion.”

Fayaz nodded and began leading them towards the central corridor of the ship, “Shukran, sir. I am sure the report did read very much as fiction, but Allah protected us. The crew of the ship are to be commended for our safe arrival to Concilium.”

They walked the length of the vessel for the next several hours, watching as wounded were transferred off the ship, and supplies moved to the hangar for remote carriers to take it all away. Shipyard workers were quickly increasing in number as more hands came to help clean out the spacecraft, and ready it for repairs. Riding a small remote craft around the outside of the ship, Fayaz finally saw the outside of the HNS adh-Dhi’b, and it’s broken patchworked hull. Yellow plates from Yu Jing vessels, welded over Blue Panoceanian tesium armor. One of the three turrets was a mangled ball of half melted metal, while another was completely gone. The great hole in the hull of the ship from the Exrah craft, interior corridors picked out by metal patches to make them air tight. Broken HRMC turrets, and mangled missile tubes, cracked armor plates, and scavenged thrusters sticking out from slap shod welding jobs. The ship really did not look like it should have made it home, and Fayaz had to catch himself on a railing as he realized how close the ship was to its demise and the demise of the crew.

“‘Aqid Aafah, are you alright?” one of the captains asked.

“Aye, just tired.” He responded, straightening up and taking a deep breath in and out.

“I can only imagine. Very well, let’s get back into the station, and let you go get some rest. Allah only knows, you deserve it.”

After seeing the inspection crew out of the ship, Fayaz walked the vessel again with his own thoughts. Much of the crew was working in cleaning their sections and packing and he tried not to disturb them, but his tall stature and bright colors invariably attracted their attention. The foreign members of the crew were thankful to his efforts, and he had several invitations to return to their nations to be celebrated. He already had multiple formal invitations from those nations waiting in his inbox though so was able to smile his way through the conversations. His feet finally carried him to the hangar and barracks where his sister was directing her unit in their packing and cleaning.

“Maih, I hope you are finally able to get some rest.” He called out with a smile.

Looking over to her brother, he saw her eyes scanning him, “Your smile does not reach your tired eyes, Akhy.”

“I must look rather worn then.”

Reaching up, Maih knocked his hat off and ruffled his hair, a rather strange act due to her usual professionalism, her smile was wide and genuine, “You got us home. You are alive, we are alive. You look like a hero.”

Fayaz scoffed, pushing Maih back as he picked up his hat and fixed his hair, “Maybe after a few days of sleep I will feel like a hero.”

“I got in touch with Mom. Apparently Asli is graduating soon and will be joining father in his work at Rafael Pharmacology. They wanted to know if we would be able to join them in Medina-”, Maih was cut off as a man dressed in a white gallabeyya, a traditional Bourak robe, was escorted over to them by a member of the crew.

The ensign saluted, “‘Aqid, this is a representative of Waqf al-Badawi.”

The man smiled and offered his hand, “Director actually. As-salamu alaykum! It is good to meet you.”

Taking the man's hand and shaking it, “Wa-Alaikum-Salaam. How can I help you?”

“The Hachib has approved the charter of Waqf al-Badawi, and we are gathering personnel and resources to begin humanitarian efforts around Bhai. Our resources are still short though and we were wondering if we might find volunteers among your crew.”

Fayaz looked at Maih, and his sister shrugged, giving a slight grin back, “No rest for heroes, Ahky? I will give my unit a week to rest and prepare. Director, you have Task Force 27’s MSMC, and some muscle.”

Giving a smile that reached his tired eyes, Fayaz responded, “Our Roc and medical facilities are happily available. Give the ship a couple of weeks, I will ping a request to the crew.”

It only took a few minutes after the geist sent out the volunteer request for the majority of the crew to return their replies, as expected, everyone was willing and able. The HNS adh-Dhi’b was a Haqqislamite vessel after all, and the crew lived up to the nation's ideals. Help humanity wherever it may be hurting, and on the shattered grounds of Concilium Prima, they all saw it hurting.

The Journey Home Part 4

“How's the packet transfer rate and power continuity to the comm-mast holding?”

Fayaz was leaning over the Nomad’s shoulder, watching the holo-screen scroll a series of numbers and charts.

“Cap, it’s not great. Power is low but stable, so our range is limited, and packet transfer is barely a quarter of what it should be, only ten terabytes a second.”

Stroking his chin, Fayaz straightened and pinged the Nomad engineers on the hull outside, “Seems like the mast is still showing low transfer and power rates.”

A stream of cursing in Spanish came through before the disgruntled voice calmed down, “Aye, capitán, we will continue to adjust.”

His long legs carried him swiftly over to his command chair, where spun around and fell backwards with a sigh, rubbing his temples. It had been five days since they had gotten the primary power generator systems and relays fixed but powerflow through the ship as a whole was giving them problems, particularly the quantronic comms-mast on the top of the ship. The engines were nearing functionality, and he hoped they could run a test in a couple of hours.

“‘Aqid, electrical fire Deck 8, Room 20. Dispatching a crew.” The Ensign’s voice had the tone of annoyance more than concern. Electrical fires had become more common with the multitude of splicing jobs, and quick repairs.

The HNS adh-Dhi’b was slowly waking, but it was trying to push snooze as much as it could. The ship was full beyond capacity with four different nations' personnel. The hallways were lined with beds and supplies, and people could be seen sleeping anywhere they could find that was out of the way. Uniforms and jumpsuits were covered in grime, and sweat from the hours of continuous labor, and if crew were not already desensitized to the smell, the smell of the ship would have been palpable. Water was rationed to ensure survival and this meant cleaning facilities were restricted.

“Cap…I think we’re online!” the voice of the Nomad came across the bridge. Everyone stopped and paid close attention as Fayaz strode quickly over to the station to review what was coming through the screen.

“It looks good, run a network check, and ping Bourak. Let’s see if we’re back in the 22nd century.”

The Nomad ran his fingers across the console, manipulating the holographic projections of the operating system. After a few moments, his smile grew wider, “Networks good, and we got a response from Bourak. Shall I open the network to the ship, Cap?”

Fayaz nodded, “Yes, raise Naval Command as soon as you are able.”

The bridge erupted into cheers. The ship had been dark, and isolated for a week and a half now. Many had family they wished to contact to reassure them of their survival, as it was likely reported that the ship was lost with the Circulars. Finally, a connection to the outside world was established again, and help could be called.

“Cap, patching you through to Naval Command.”

Nodding, Fayaz spoke into the channel, “This is ‘Aqid Aafah of the HNS adh-Dhi’b. We are reporting extensive damage, but we are alive. Coordinates will be sent in a secure packet. We are currently undergoing emergency field repairs. Engines are expected to be online within 24 hours, and we will begin heading for Concilium. Are there any ships in the area that can help?”

A relieved and happy voice came over the voice channel, “As-salam, and thank Allah for your survival ‘Aqid. You may be stuck at Concilium for some time, the Combined Army have much of it controlled including the space around the planet. There are no ships that can assist you at this time due to other rescue efforts. Many were lost in the last offensive. We are currently organizing efforts. I am sorry to say, but you are on your own.”

“The Combined Army made it all the way to Concilium? How are defenses on the ground? Our combat capabilities are extremely limited but we can assist as much as we can.”

“That is not necessary. I will send you some news articles and reports on the situation. It is….a lot to take in. Suffice it to say, The Human Sphere has accepted an armistice with the Evolved Intelligence. For now, all guns are silent. Get to Concilium, stay alive. Those are your orders.”

The communications ended after that, and a packet of reports and news articles came across to his Geist. Fayaz reviewed them briefly, quickly reading what he could, his face growing darker. It only took him a few minutes to catch up with what they had missed in the last week and a half. Clicking the shipwide communications he spoke, “To all crew and guests, your efforts, and work these past days have been incredible. Some may call it herculean. You have brought this ship back from the brink, and have saved many souls from the void of space. Through your effort, we now have our comms-mast running, and our connection to the outside world restored. For this you will be given two hours to rest, and call friends and family. Section leaders will divide up time for critical workers. In the next 24 hours, this vessel will be moving under her own power towards Concilium. We are arriving into an armistice though with the Combined Army. For all intents and purposes, they have won, but a tragedy struck the planet that forced this temporary peace. You can find more in the reports I am disseminating to you. We will be docking for repairs as soon as we can, but our work will not be done when we get there. Many lives are at risk, and many others lost. We will continue to labor for the betterment of humanity because that is what it is to be Haqqislamite. Once this ship is underway, you will have a week. Prepare yourselves, and have faith. Our mission is not yet done.”

As the communicator clicked off, the bridge was silent. Looking around, he waved his hand, “You may all leave your stations for the time, tasks your Geists for report monitoring. Come back if something critical comes through.”

The crew began filtering out and the bridge grew quiet. Fayaz sat back in his chair, letting his head fall back as the door closed. The silence was a welcome sensation. The last week was one of very little sleep, and a great deal of stress. Now that communications with the outside world was reestablished, some of the stress of command was slowly easing away. It was being replaced with a mix of feelings on the reports he read of the Combined Army’s offensive on Concilium and the Concilium Debacle. The loss of life both citizen and military was staggering, and the loss of materiel just as much.

Relaxing, he let his consciousness fall into the mayasphere as a busy, sunlit market street appeared. He sat at a small table next to a large planter dominated by a tall palm tree, casting shade over his table. The smell of fresh coffee and creamer reached his nose, a wonderful aroma of the small coffee shop, on the Khadijah city street, taking him home. The city lay on a lush island continent off the coast of Al-Medinat, and was the heart of Haqqislamite government. This coffee shop, Haseens Coffee House, was a common place of relaxation for him when he was assigned to the capital and he enjoyed it greatly in his off hours. Across the table from him, sipping a small cup of coffee was a man in a colorful robe, and a bright white keffiyeh. For some reason, Fayaz could not focus on the man's face though, something he was used to though. The Old Man never did like to share much of himself.

“Fayaz, we’re very happy to hear of you and your crew's survival. I look forward to when you have the time to regale me with the story. I assume this is not why you contacted me though.”

Taking his own sip of coffee, the rich bitter and sweet taste washing over his tongue, washing further stress from his mind, he shook his head, “The reports I got from Naval Command are disturbing to say the least. I want to know for sure that I am not flying this crew into the tensed steel jaws of a bear trap.”

A chuckle escaped the figure, “You took my time for a simple question as that? ‘Aqid, the shadows are dancing all over the board in this armistice. We have become very busy indeed. I thought perhaps you had information to provide.”

“I am willing to trade myself entirely to your cause for information that can keep my crew safe, no cost is too much here. They have suffered enough.”

“Indeed they have ‘Aqid. No, I am happy to provide this information for a very small price, one you were probably going to be paying anyways of your own accord. But first, the answer you seek, yes. You and your ship will be safe. You will be docked at a safe, and stable port. We can make sure of that.”

Sighing in relief, the two sat for a moment, watching a group of children kicking a ball around the street, and yelling to each other. A breeze passed down the street, swaying the palm tree, and caressing his cheek.

“The price you ask?” Fayaz asked at long last.

“The price is simple. You, your crew, and your ship are to take no part in the combat brewing among the powers. Waqf al-Badawi was established, and will be doing work in the Haqqislamite territories of Concilium. Work with them. The loss of life has been great, and humanity needs to recover itself. Return any information you hear to us.”

Fayaz raised an eyebrow at the old man, “That seems surprisingly easy.”

“I am not the heartless, and cruel figure that the Mayasphere fictions paint me as. Humanity is bloody and beaten enough. All beings need time to recover. Take it as a gift for all that you and your sister have done for us over these last years, even if we have to drag your sister by her ear?”

The captain chuckled, taking another sip of coffee, “She is devoted to the cause but she dislikes not being in control. She’s always been a free and stubborn spirit like that. It is her biggest strength and weakness. But thank you.”

Looking back to the figure, the seat was empty, the coffee cup sitting on the table, steam slowly rising. Leaning back in the aluminum chair, Fayaz took his time sipping on his coffee. He took the moment to read additional reports and news articles from the last week and a half. The reports on the Quantum Anomaly Zones were particularly disturbing. After thirty minutes, his commlog notified him of an incoming message. Taking one last look around he let the projection fall away as he returned his consciousness to the bridge, and opened the message. The engines were ready for preliminary testing. Looking around, he had noticed some of the crew had returned to their positions, and more were filtering onto the bridge as time passed.

An engineering officer spoke up from a console to his left, “‘Aqid, engines are ready for testing. I am routing power now and monitoring the network.”

“‘Aqid, I have incoming communications from a couple of Panoceanian recovery vessels that are entering our area.” Abdallah spoke up, the blonde haired woman was standing over a communications console, speaking with the technician there.

“Better late than never. They were probably notified when we came back online. Notify them we are conducting engine restart tests and to stand by for assistance.”

One of the large screens in the bridge suddenly lit up with reports and numbers of the engines as they powered up. The four large impulse drives flared to life on the screens as the reports showed everything running smoothly. The engines reached 50% of their maximum power and remained there, running smoothly. Fayaz smiled, they were finally moving.

“‘Aqid, engines and power are all green. We are good to sail.” the Engineering officer said, a smile across his face.

Nodding, Fayaz turned to his navigator, “Helm, I want a course set for Concilium, 50% impulse. Communications, notify the recovery vessels we are underway. Engineering, how is the rest of the ship holding up under acceleration?”

“‘Aqid, were receiving some reports of stress damage from areas around the impact site, but nothing critical at this time. Teams are already making repairs. We will continue to monitor.”

Taking a moment to orient his thoughts and actions, he called Maih on the commlog, “Maih, could you bring Mosa’id Seif to the bridge. We are beginning to depart the area.”

After fifteen minutes, the bridge doors slid open, Maih led two figures, one Khadim Seif, the Khawarij dwarfing everyone in the room, and the other a Panoceanian. Looking the man over, Fayaz saw that he was dirty, with his clothes obviously having been unwashed for the week at least, and grease smearing his stubbly face. It was obvious he had tried to clean up in a hurry and a blue jumpsuit was tied around his waist. In his hands were a worn leather bound book with a gold cross.

“‘Aqid Aafah, I offered Christopher here the chance to join me. He would like to assist in laying to rest those of the Christian faith.” Khadim introduced the man, who stood there looking at Fayaz. He looked briefly around the bridge, that normally a Panoceanian could never hope to lay eyes on. After a moment he nodded and motioned them both in.

The two men walked to the middle of the bridge, in front of the captain's chair. The screens were turned on towards the view of the space outside of the vessel. The stars and debris floating around them. The two men silently opened their books and together, began reading out loud, as the bridge around them grew silent. Christopher raised a cross and rosary, reciting a funeral prayer, as Khadim raised his arms up, beginning to recite the first Takbir. Both rituals were very different from one another, Khadim raising his arms up and then crossing them on his chest several times throughout the salat, while Christopher made more conservative gestures with the cross. Both were given equal defference though as the ship's speaker system echoed through the vessel, their prayers. The process took about five minutes before silence fell on them all. A couple of moments passed before Khadim turned to Fayaz, “Shukran, ‘Aqid.”

As the two men left the bridge, Fayaz sat back in his chair, and pointed to the screens, “Helm, take us to Concilium.”

The Journey Home Part 3

Repair equipment, EXO uniforms, masks, and replacement parts were already littering the Ward Room as Fayaz entered. Tegmin Razeal, Chief of Engineering, and Doctor Turnus, Chief of Medical. Razeal and Turnus were both veteran officers of the Qapu Khalqi fleet, long before being assigned to the HNS adh-Dhi’b. Razeal himself had short, gray hair and a clean, short beard. His hands were rough from years being a hands on engineer, and still bore those calluses. Doctor Turnus was a kind olive skinned, middle-aged man with dark short hair and clean shaven face who had risen quickly in the ranks. His quick thinking, and fast actions made him an excellent fleet trauma doctor both on ship and off. Now his usual kind demeanor was gone as he was constantly reviewing with his geist incoming medical reports on personnel, and remotely directing his department on triage.

“Fayaz, I hope this meeting is quick, I am extremely busy right now.” He spoke without focusing on the tall captain.

“Yes, Maih, Caleb, and Abdallah should be here shortly.” Fayaz said, finding a seat and clearing it of mechanical supplies and parts.

Razeal spoke up, “It looks like we are making reasonable progress along Decks 5 and 6, the worst of our damage. They are cutting away the remains of the Exrah craft now. I hope in the next eight hours it will be out of our hull and we can work on sealing the breaches. We may have issues with raw materials though. We only have so much spare hull plating, and only so much we can cannibalize after this fight.”

Before Fayaz could respond, the doors slid open and Caleb came striding in with Maih. The tall, middle-aged man nodded at Razeal before taking a seat. A few moments later, the last person they were waiting for entered, Chief of Operations, Abdallah. She was a tall woman with short cut blonde hair, and striking blue eyes. Taking their seats, Fayaz spoke to the group.

“Initial reports are grim on the ship. We have life support, but no engines, and no primary power. Our defenses lie in a single rail turret that’s left operational, but manually controlled. Decks Five and Six are open to the void, and Decks One through Four are not much better. Comms array is offline, so we have a near frequency SOS beacon broadcasting but I don’t expect help fast. The Faraway Jumpgate, and Circulars 8A and B are ruined. Rescue efforts are going to be there first, and that will take some time.”

The other officers in the room listened and nodded grimly. The loss of life they were all tallying in their heads was unimaginable. They all felt defeated that their efforts in keeping the civilian ships and facilities were a complete waste. In the end, their sacrifice was fruitless.

“I have a plan though. We are going to be utilizing the ROC and the RTF MSMC Dropship to first salvage supplies and parts from the ruined ships around us. At the same time we will be doing what we can to rescue those still on those ships.”

“Fayaz, we don’t have the medical staff or facil-” Turnus was cut off by a lethal glare from Fayaz. “Aye, we will work something out. Perhaps the hangar can be converted.”

“Much of my unit is not Zero-G qualified, so my personnel and medical staff can assist you Doctor turnus.” Maih spoke up, already tasking her Geist with pulling a list of available soldiers to help.

“Thank you, Maih and Turnus.“ Fayaz continued, ”Razeal I need a list of material we need and teams who can take on these salvaging and rescue operations. I want the first flights to leave in a few hours. We don't know exactly what we need now, but I do know there is plenty we need that we can salvage immediately. As you mentioned, sheet metal for patches.”

“Aye, I can do that.” the gray haired engineer said, nodding.

“Finally, we need the two XPR-5’s retrofitted with magnetic locking feet.”

“Brother?” Maih asked incredulously, briefly forgetting her professionalism.

“‘Aqid? Why in Allahs balls do we need magnetic Scorpions?” Caleb blurted out.

Fayaz smiled, “We don’t have salvage TAG’s, and we don’t have the manpower to look out for flying debris in the remains of the battle outside. Our armor is holding steady enough, and our thrusters are keeping us safe, but if half an Exrah craft comes towards any of our salvage teams, they are going to be added to the list of KIA. The two XPR-5’s have the sensors, weaponry, mobility, sealed atmosphere, and brute strength to be a vital asset to these teams. Pull their secondary weaponry off and equip their claws.”

Razeal nodded a bit with a grin, now seeing where the captain was going with his train of thought. Caleb smiled and stroked his beard, already beginning to make schematics in his head, “Aye, I think we can do that…perhaps some retrofitted boosters in strategic places as well…”

“I will inform Neith and Ishtar. This may be a fun new challenge for them.” Maih said.

“Good, glad we are all onboard. Get to work, let’s save some lives, and get ourselves moving again. Dismissed.” Fayaz stood up and clapped his hands.

Everyone moved quickly through the door, already drawing up plans and communications for their various tasks. The ship began to hum with activity as the hangar bay began to be cleared and opened up for medical purposes. Boxes and equipment were being moved out and stored elsewhere. As Maih walked in, inspecting the process, she saw Ein-213, the Rafiq Remote, arguing with a crew member over a box. Ein was an older model bi-pedal Rafiq Remote, and stood shoulder height to the crewman. The robot had a growing pseudo-ai that had developed over many years of fighting and working with the unit, and had the personality similar to that of a ten year old born on the battlefield.

“Don’t move it! Don’t move it! Wake her up first!” The remote was yelling, its Red Fury was wagging while it flared its multiple antenna around, trying to help get its point across.

“The box needs to move and it’s too heavy for me, just help me out here. You can drag it.” The crew member argued holding a length of cargo strap, obviously getting annoyed.

“Caleb! Caleb! Wake her up! Wake her up!” The remote yelled again.

Maih walked over, raising a hand to try and calm the erratic remote, “Ein, what's the matter?”

“Ra’id! We need Caleb! Nema is not waking up! She hit a wall hard.”

Looking at the box, Maih sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, “Nema-3, I swear by Allah, if you don’t stop playing and get to work you WILL be parts.”

Lights suddenly ran across the front of the box as it broke apart along hidden seams. The Sunduqbot unfolded itself swiftly, and began waving its tiny arms erratically, as the crewman suddenly jumped back in surprise. A high pitched voice emanated from it, “It was a joke, Ra’id! A joke! I will get to work now!”

“We have dozens of wounded, we don't have time for jokes, Nema.”

“They're just humans, you still have enough. Just have Doctor Turner make them stop leaking.” Nema responded flatly.

“That's not…ugh, just get to your assignment. Ein, you’re babysitting.” Maih waved the pair off.

“Ein in charge!” The Rafiq screamed, waggling its antennas in excitement, as Maih turned away to review the rest of her unit.

A team of engineers were heading out of the hangar airlock to begin working on the MSMC dropship attached to the side of the cruiser, their bulky space suits hung with tools. Two kameel remotes trailed behind them with sheet metal and supplies. On the far side of the bay Caleb was hard at work on the feet of the two XPR-5 Scorpion TAG’s, suspended by heavy industrial cranes. He was disconnecting the tracked feet and bolting on electro-magnets and wiring. Neith and Ishtar in their pilot suits sat on boxes nearby, overseeing what was being done to their TAG’s. Both women were tiny, not even 5’ and both with short bob cut hair, giving them a very adolescent look. They were both two of the most experienced and highly trained soldiers in the unit though having gone through multiple schools, academies, and deployments in their careers leading them to being pilots in the Maghariba Guard regiment, and both carried themselves confidently in that knowledge.

As the hours passed, the hangar bay filled with beds and patients. The Muhktar unit Doctor, Kalim Amari, and the Khawarij Doctor Khadim Seif worked together bandaging, setting broken bones, closing wounds, and checking head injuries. The large bulk of Khadim belied his gentle and agile touch. There were a few crew members who could not be saved, and were devoted Haqqislamites without cubes. These members of the crew were watched over and given last rites by him, as Khadim always had a physical copy of the New Quran in his coat, and performed the Salat al-Janazah. These souls were quickly placed in vacuum sealed boxes, and he sprinkled a handful of dirt from Bourak onto their bodies in a simulation of burial. Unfortunately in the void of space, burial could not be performed quickly, so he made do with what he could to ensure their spiritual health.

As Khadim finished Salat over the last body, Maih joined him, “Thank you Khadim.”

The large Khawarij smiled sadly and nodded, holding the book to his chest, “It is a work that must be done, for all of us. This is not the end of it either. A number of poor souls are in the void, and before we depart we will need to ensure we perform the Salat al-Janazah before leaving the system for those we cannot recover.

The two stood there quietly for a moment, heads bowed in contemplation before the large man slid the book back into his coat and nodded to Maih, grabbing his medical bag and slinging it back over his shoulder. “The souls of the dead are now cared for, the souls of the living are now in need. Stay safe Ra’id.”

The engineers working on the MSMC dropship stomped onto the deck through the plasma shielding of the hangar bay. All three flopping onto the deck by the wall, and pulled off their helmets, wiping sweat off their faces. Maihs commlog pinged as Fayaz called her, “The dropship is repaired and passed checks, do you have a team ready?”

“Aye, flag the ship to the hangar, we will be ready.” She responded. —---------------------------------------- The dropship flew silently through the still void. Many pieces of debris floated through space and the craft had to maneuver to dodge them as it made its way to the wreck of the Yu Jing vessel Dahlian. Initial scans showed possible life still in the hull. The large dropship slowed down, with its belly to the hull of the hulk. With a thump, the magnetic pads engaged and secured it in place. The crew checked their EXO suits again before Tegmen Sadik, NCO of the Sekban unit, lowered the ramp. Sadik was a veteran Sekban officer, and of countless zero-g operations. He pushed himself out of the dropship before letting the magnetic boots pull him to the hull of the wreck. Checking his wrist mounted display, tied to the dropships sensors, he confirmed no debris was nearby and called to the rest of the unit.

“All clear for now. Let’s get moving.”

The Akrep Scorpion TAG moved silently out of the dropship, its heavy magnetic feet stomping silently on the hull plating sending vibrations through Sadiks boots, as its turret began twirling around slowly, its geist passively searching for targets. Following the TAG came a couple of kameel remotes, and two other Sekban, Thomas Sheffield, and Feray Sadik. Both men had their rifles magnetically slung as their hands were full, one carrying salvaging tools, and Thomas carrying a medical box, being the unit doctor. The last two to come out of the dropship were two Burtuk Naval Engineers, Ahmet, and Emre.

The group moved slowly over the hull, slowed by the TAG who normally could move at speed, but in the vacuum of space, had to rely on its magnetic clamps. After a hundred yards, they came to where the cruiser's sensors spied an access hatch. Checking the doors integrity, Ahmet found it devoid of power. Taking a metal tool out of his belt, he held his hand to the metal door and slammed it hard several times with the tool, then several times again in a rhythm. After a few moments he nodded to Sadik and keyed his radio, “I feel rhythmic vibrations in response. I think it's safe to say there may be people inside. I will attach the auxiliary battery to the door and see if some power helps us get in.”

Taking one of the boxes from a kameel, Ahmet clamped it next to the door and attached a cord from it to a port next to the doors access panel. After a few moments, some lights on the access panel lit up, and a button glowed. The Burtuk gave a thumbs up to the rest and pressed the button. The door slid open, into the glow of an airlock, and Sadik pointed out Ahmet, Thomas, and a kameel to enter. The remote was carrying a box of 40 emergency unrollable space suits, enough to get people to the dropship but not much more. Joining them inside, the Sekban officer closed the hatch. The pressure equalized and the interior door slid open into low lit gloom.

“Lights on. Thomas, atmosphere?” Sadik asked.

“High CO2 levels, but not lethal yet. I see lights on at the end of the hallway there though.” Thomas pointed down the hallway, where they saw shapes and lights moving.

Moving towards the group huddled in the dark, several raised rifles, but the Sekban quickly put his arms up and clicked on his external translator, “We are Sekban from the HNS adh-Dhi’b here to offer support and evacuate you. How many do you number and can we review your injuries?”

The rifles lowered as one man in an orange jumpsuit stepped forward, his Yu Jingese translated by Sadiks commlog, “I am Engineer First Class Guin, thank you for coming for us, there's twenty of us, no major injuries.”

Thomas began opening a box on the kameel and pulling out the compressed emergency suits, passing them out as Sadik continued, “Salam Guin, please have your crew put on these suits. We have a drop ship on the outer hull. I do apologize, but we need to salvage some of your ship. Ours is in better shape but not by much.”

“Help yourself, we don’t seem to be using it anymore.”

Ahmet began removing panels and parts from the hallway as the Yu Jing crew suited up, and Thomas checked over their injuries. His torch bathed the corridor in flickering blue light, and the banging and tearing reverberated down the hall as he quickly ripped and tore pieces from the ship that were on his list, filling the former EXO suit box and another bag on the remote. After an hour of preparation the group all moved towards the airlock.

“Tegmen Sadik, I am going to blow the airlock for easier access, is everyone checked and ready?” Ahmet asked, pulling out a demolition charge.

The Sekban took a moment to check the readings from his Geist to ensure everyone was suited and ready, before nodding. “You are good to go.”

Turning, Ahmet jammed the interior airlock door with a quick tack weld, and then set the d-charge on the outer door along its hinges. Radioing to his counterpart on the other side to stand clear, he ran back into the corridor and down a few yards. With the flick of a button, a resounding crunch could be heard as the door buckled and blew out. Decompression pulled on everyone, making them hold tight to handles along the wall for a few seconds before the entire section was voided. The group clipped cords onto each other and walked out onto the hull of the ship in a long line, heading for the MSMC dropship.

“Debris looks to be inbound, engaging with an HE round.” Neiths voice came over the commlog before a bright flash from the TAG’s barrel briefly bathed the deck in yellow light. The round sailed through the void for a few seconds before impacting a flying piece of metal with a small detonation. “Debris trajectory changed, no longer a threat.”

The dropship filled up quickly, and both kameel remotes were ladened with parts and materials. Before loading, Neith in the Akrep and both Ahmet and Emre worked to cut away several pieces of non-armored sheet metal. The two Burtuks cut them away while the large pneumatic claws carried the pieces of metal to the dropships loading bay. The Yu Jing crew and Thomas waited in the pressurized crew compartment of the dropship while the team worked. After an hour the TAG brought the last piece of sheet metal onboard and the ship sealed itself. Releasing from the Yu Jing cruiser, the dropship glided through space back to the adh-Dhi’b, docking and unloading the survivors and salvage into the hangar bay where doctors and engineers were waiting. This operation would go on for the next three days as crews rotated around the clock, the ROC working purely as a lifeboat for other wrecks in the area finding safe areas to dock or cut into hulls to rescue people.

The adh-Dhi’b slowly regained functionality, and atmosphere as salvaged material were bolted and welded into place, Panoceanian, and Yu Jing electronics integrated into the systems of the ship. The pool of survivors living and working on the ship slowly grew as Panoceanian machinists, Yu Jing hardware specialists, Haqqislam engineers, and Nomad spacers worked together to revive the small cruiser. After those 3 days, the primary generator for the ship came back to life restoring additional non-critical, crew comfort systems. The next large task was in restoring the primary impulse engines. The multinational engineering team devoted themselves to the problem, cutting away destroyed engine modules and splicing in Yu Jing, and Panoceanian parts, Nomads being especially adept at this. Nationalities faded away while everyone worked to raise the HNS adh-Dhi’b, and in a small corner of space, in the wake of a disaster, some semblance of cooperation and unity evolved.

The Journey Home Part 2

The missiles slammed into the cruiser's shields, collapsing like shattered glass, the residual kinetic energy hitting the hull and rocking the crew. Two of the Exrah craft exploded into crimson flames, briefly, before the void of space snuffed out the fire as the three rail guns mounted on the upper spine of the ship, tracked and ended their fight. The Haqqislam vessel's quantronic suite was infiltrating space around the ship, working to disrupt the Exrah fighters targeting systems and controls. The numbers were too many though, and a multitude of enemy ships were breaking through the cybersphere.

The Panoceanian Heavy Cruiser was ablaze already, fires spewing from multiple hull breaches but her guns were still firing. Its size made it the first target. Numerous Exrah fighters, and cruisers both heavy and light were blasting through the handful of defenders heading to the Faraway Jump Gate. A Yu Jing vessel, Dahlian, and the adh-Dhib were working in a close formation to try and keep boarding vessels from getting to each other. With both of their shields down though, it was a losing effort. Hyper Rapid Magnetic tracers blazed through the void, following enemy ships. Blooms of fire could be seen when these shots connected between the ion trails of space based missiles and torpedoes, twisting and winding through space towards their targets.

The HNS adh-Dhib shuddered and jerked, throwing the crew as an ensign spoke up from a weapons control station, his voice even but hoarse, “Turret B hit and disabled ‘Aqid. Debris has knocked out Turret A, we are dispatching engineers to try and revive it.”

“Keep Turret C firing at medium targets. I need status on HRMC-CIWS and Missiles.” Fayaz responded.

The ship shuddered as it received fire again, Engineering spoke up first, “‘Aqid, ablative armor is deteriorating and multiple shield emitters destroyed. We have atmosphere venting on Deck 23, engineers enroute.”

“‘Aqid, missiles are expended or launchers destroyed, CIWS at 20% ammo, 90% effective still.”

Fayaz nodded and responded, “Engineering, belay. Task that effort to the RTF forces, focus engineers on bringing our primary weapons back.”

“Aye ‘Aqid!”

Fayaz’ commlog pinged as he raised his sister, Maih, “Maih, we have venting on Deck 23. Investigate for borders and repair.”

—-------------------------------------------------

“We're on it.” Maih responded. The ship jerked again as it was hit, throwing her into the wall, and throwing Zyah who was following her to the ground with a thud. Bending down, she helped her friend back to her feet while speaking into her Commlog, “Fahim, and Caleb, were going to Deck 23 for a hull breach and possible borders, meet me there.”

It only took a couple minutes for the four to congregate at the bulkhead to 23 from 24. Doctor Zyah Palavi-Yachel was an olive skinned, black haired woman wearing her military medical uniform. Her rifle was slung across her chest as her implanted metallic wings swayed slightly on her back. While short, they were still noticeable as a distinguishing part of her rebuilt body. Having officially died during the events of a Combined Army attack on Novvy Bangkok, she submitted herself to a joint Praxis and Desert Winds Pharmaceutical Project called Project Mīkāl. Fahim Yachel was a large Khawarij, wielding an Askari Spitfire. His bulk dwarfed them all in the passageway, but the last member of the team, Caleb Sanford stood almost shoulder to shoulder in height. The large monstrucker was a middle aged, bald man with a big, grey beard and normally a jovial expression on his face. His magnetic boots stomped heavily on the deck as he shifted his equipment around. A backpack of tools, and an array of instruments on his thick belt belied his role as a veteran engineer. Making sure the team was ready, Maih turned and tapped the switch to open the bulkhead doors. All three had EXO helmets on, to ensure their air supply, as the bulkhead opened.

Atmosphere immediately began sucking into the deck, pulling on their clothing. They moved into the adjoining hallway quickly, the heavy doors shutting behind them with a clang. Fahim raised his weapon and moved forward, several dead crew members laying on the floor, their skin turning blue due to depleting oxygen. As they advanced, the lights flickered, growing dimmer while areas of the deck began losing their gravity panels. Finally they came to a gaping hole in the wall, about three feet across that opened to more than twelve feet as it reached the outside of the hull.

“‘Aqid Fayaz, we have reached the breach.” Maih reported, “Appears to be a weapons hit, not a boarding action. Caleb will begin sealing, Zyah will begin administering medical aid to the crew.”

The monstrucker pulled a torch from his belt, and with the flick of a button it blazed into life as he began cutting bent and jagged edges away. Zyah began checking the various crew bodies around them to determine if any are still alive and can be saved. The ship suddenly rocked again, knocking everyone except Caleb into the far wall of the corridor. The monstruckers magnetic boots held him steady. Rubbing her head and groaning, Maih collected her weapon and stood up.

The voice of Asil Tiki, her second in command, came through her ear piece, “Ra’id Aafah! We have a hull breach and boarding torpedo, deck 18!”

“Acknowledged, on our way!” She responded and turned to Fahim and Zyah, “Lets go, we got boarders Deck 18. Caleb, you got this?”

“Aye! Course I got this! It’s just some metal sheets! Go! I don't feel like joining the Combined Army today.”

Nodding, Maih led the three of them towards a ship elevator outside the bulkhead doors they came through. The ship shuddered again as smaller weapons fire raked the hull. Lights flickered as power fluctuated. Smashing the elevator call button, Fahim checked his spitfire and adjusted the sling.

—----------------------------------------------

“‘Aqid, we have the impact of a boarding torpedo, the atmosphere appears to be holding stable. Deck 18.”

Fayaz nodded and sent orders to Maih to ensure the boarding party was contained. Several Exrah fighters suddenly strafed fire along the underside of the ship, opening more of the vessel up to space. One of the fighters never survived long enough to celebrate though as it blossomed into fire and debris from a stream of HRMC rounds.

“How are we on Turret A, Engineering?” Fayaz yelled out, the power blinking and flickering along the bridge.

“We are almost functional, only a few more minutes.” The response was calm and collected.

“‘Aqid, Weapons reporting, CIWS ammunition deplet-”, the Weapons officer was cut off suddenly by Navigation screaming and slamming a button on her console.

“Incoming ship on impact course! Locking all bulkheads!”

An automated voice rang out over the ship's communications system “Brace!” Suddenly the entire ship lurched, and the sound of screeching steel could be heard throughout the entirety of the vessel. Those not strapped into their seats were thrown to the floor and walls with the force of the impact as everything went dark.

—----------------------------------------------

The elevator sped down to Deck 18 and as it opened, the bulkhead door in front of them suddenly blinked red as it locked, and the speaker by the elevator screamed, “Brace!” Fahim dropped the gun on his sling and spun around, grabbing both women with him and using his huge bulk, locked his arms around them just as the adh-Dhib reeled violently, throwing them around the hallway and dropping them into darkness with a loss of power.

Maih suddenly saw a bright light shining into her eye as she groaned, blinking. The light suddenly went away with a click as Zyah spoke up, “Maih, what is your birthday and ID number?”

“Ugh…” she grabbed her head and blinked a couple times. “ID is 430187, birthday is 03-11-50.”

“Good, you're well enough to function, now wake up.” The Doctor said, and suddenly Maih noticed she was floating.

Flailing around for a second, she caught herself on a wall, and adjusted her rifle and visor. Looking around, the small hallway was bathed in red emergency light, and the three of them floated there. Pinging her commlog, she noticed the quantronic network was down.

“If gravity is off, and lights are off, I can only assume life support may be damaged as well. Zyah, keep an eye on the O2 meter, let me know if it gets dangerous. Fahim, get to the manual crank on the bulkhead and check if it’s locked from atmosphere loss.”

Fahim nodded, and gently pushed himself off the elevator door he was using for stability. Floating gracefully to a small hatch by the steel bulkhead door, he opened it and tried turning the wheel. It moved smoothly which meant it wasn't locked from atmosphere loss on the other side of the bulkhead. Slowly but smoothly the doors opened enough for them to squeeze through. Maih pulled down her multispectral visors to help her see better through the red gloom. Fahim pulled his large scimitar free, and Zyah pulled out a pistol. Using hand grips along the walls, they pulled themselves through the door and along the hallway.

Opening another bulkhead a couple hundred yards further up, they heard the sounds of gunfire coming up the corridor beyond. Pushing themselves quickly through, they floated down the hallway swiftly, coming to a corner just as a bullet ricocheted off. A brief scream was heard as Maih pulled out her pistol and peaked around the corner. The corridor beyond had blood, bodies, and viscera floating around it, but was quiet until a yell could be heard, “Get the bodies down and secure them to the walls, reload and check ammo.”

The small, curly haired form of Asil could be seen directing other members of the task force. Her brown and tan soft armor could be seen covered in a green slime as Maih pulled herself down the hallway and announced her presence. Turning quickly, Asil tried to salute but quickly found out that such fast movement in zero-g was a bad idea as she kept spinning in place before grabbing the wall and stopping herself.

“Sorry Ra’id…I never took zero-g training…oh this is not sitting well with me.” The woman held her stomach briefly as she breathed in and out.

“I understand Tilki, give me a quick report.” Maih said, patting the smaller woman's shoulder.

“Yes ma’am. Small boarding party I believe to be Exrah. We have some wounded but no losses. They were pretty uncoordinated coming out of the boarding torpedo back there. Could have been worse, but Molazim Shadid took advantage of the darkness to quickly eliminate the enemy soldiers. Tegmen Sadik sealed the area around the torpedo with quick-crete to prevent atmosphere loss and stabilize it so we should be pretty set here.”

“Well done. Make sure everyone gets to the emergency EXO helmets. I believe with the full loss of power we have here, life support is likely down. Make sure everyone is prepared.”

“Yes ma’am.” Tilki saluted slowly this time.

Turning to Zyah, and Fahim, Maih said, “We are going to head for the bridge, and see what we can do to assist on the way.”

—----------------------------------------------

Fayaz shook his head to clear it as he pushed himself off a console on the bridge towards the engineering section. The bridge was bathed in red light, and all of the screens were black. Many of the crew were unconscious as he floated around trying to get power from any of the stations to get a report.

“Sorry ‘Aqid, our stations are down as well. My guess is that the Exrah craft hit us right in the belly, and into the generator space. I am attempting to use hard line communications to raise anyone I can. Manual power bypass to backups are not working. They hit us hard sir.”

Nodding, Fayaz let the Engineer get back to work, and began moving himself around the room, helping to get people woken up, and reoriented. The crew here had enough oxygen between what's in the space and dedicated emergency O2 tanks to last for 24 hours. That would be enough to give them time to determine if they need to abandon ship or not. The sounds of weapons fire against the hull was notably absent though so it must appear they are dead in the water to the enemy.

“‘Aqid! I raised engineering on Deck 5. Their initial report is that much of Deck 6 and 7 are voided; they cannot open the bulkhead doors there, Decks 1 through 5 are on Emergency O2, but Deck 5 is leaking. They are working on getting the backup power online, luckily the damage was minimal to the generators there and they expect it will be active within the hour.”

Sighing with relief that some good news came up, Fayaz floated back towards the captain's chair to wait. He reflexively tried a few of the controls on the arm, but none of them responded with anything. Clanking and pinging could be heard from the hull suddenly echoing through the ship, but luckily nothing appeared to come from it, and the craft remained stable. Minutes crawled by as the crew busied themselves cleaning and repairing their areas of work. A medic worked on bandaging wounds, and setting a broken arm. The bulkhead door behind Fayaz suddenly began sliding open, and the voice of Maih came through, “Maih here, all safe?”

“Aye sister-” He was suddenly cut off as the ship rumbled with life. Lights began flickering back on, and gravity slowly restored itself. Screens and modules came to life as some normality returned.

“I see I timed this well.” Maih said, entering the bridge and holstering her large pistol. The muscle bound Fahim followed her, sheathing his scimitar.

“‘Aqid Aafah, any injured here?” Zyah spoke up, the doctor already checking her medical pouch.

“No, Doctor Zyah. Our bridge medic tended to everyone already, thank you. Maih, have any reports?”

Maih nodded, “The boarding effort was successfully repelled with no casualties, and hull integrity was stabilized. What hit us?” “Exrah fighter craft rammed us in the belly at decks five and six. We’re running on our secondary generators so we're not back in the fight yet. Navigation, do you-” Fayaz cut himself off as he stared at the view screens.

The bridge went silent as they took in the carnage and wreckage around them and what remained of Faraway Jump Gate. Two behemoth hulks drifted around the remains of the wormhole facility, fire still visible in some areas. Wreckage of countless ships drifted lifelessly in the void around the remains of the Circulars. Half of the Panoceanian Heavy Cruiser drifted passed, metal and pieces trailing behind it as electrical fires smoldered in its corpse. Here and there could be seen the light of ionic engines flying between areas of wreckage, presumably rescue vessels.

“May Allah save those poor souls…Engineering, I need a report now.” Fayaz broke the silence.

“Aye, ‘Aqid. List of damaged and destroyed systems are still coming through. I can say engines are lost, power diverters are blown all over the ship. I think we can get primary power online in a few days if I am reading these errors correctly, but we have to get there first, and patch some holes. That's going to be a few more days. Good news though, life support is stable, only minor damage.” The Chief Engineer sighed and continued scrolling his screen before taking out an actual pen and notebook to better organize his thoughts.

“I like good news…Weapons?”

“We have Turret C, sir. That’s it. CIWS gone, Missiles gone, Turret B is floating somewhere off the port side of the ship ship, and Turret A is missing one of its two rails. Targeting directors are misaligned or unresponsive so shots have to be aimed manually. I would not classify us as a warship anymore ‘Aqid.”

Fayaz sighed and rubbed his temple, “Were dead in the void. We can breathe but we can't move or fight. Ops, how are the MSMC and Roc?”

Tapping her screen, the blonde haired woman manning the Ops station reviewed her reports, “Roc is fine. It was properly stowed before the fight. MSMC might have some hull damage, but very minimal.”

“Good, I want Chiefs of Ops, Engineering, Medical, and you Maih in Ward Room B in 30 minutes. Maih, I want Caleb with you as well. I have a plan, and I need input. Engineering, you know where you need your teams right now, so get to it.”

Fayaz looked around the bridge, nodding to Maih, and then straightened his coat, and belt, pulling himself up to his full six foot five inch height, “The HNS adh-Dhi’b still has work to do. Let’s get to it.”

“Aye sir!”

The Journey Home Part 1

HNS adh-Dhiʼb, or "Wolf Star", Information Warfare Light Cruiser

“‘Aqid, we are nearing Jumpgate for the C8-A circular to Concilium. Expected arrival at the waypoint of departure in 20 minutes.”

Fayaz Aafah swiped the ship reports out of his view, his geist filing them into ordered folders as the lanky man stood up, his long legs took him swiftly to the navigator’s station on the bridge of the HNS adh-Dhi’b. While unnecessary, he took it as a good excuse to stretch his legs. The ship had been traveling for some hours, heading to the jumpgate in Human Edge designated for departure to Concilium. The bridge was dimly lit, nestled deep inside the hull of the ship, it was surrounded by screens showing space outside the vessel and various information graphics about the health of the craft. Crew members sat at various consoles around the room monitoring their individual area of expertise.

“Do you have an estimated time of arrival for C8-A? We are scheduled for shipyard maintenance in a couple of weeks.”

The woman working the controls in front of him, tapped a few buttons, and nodded, “Aye, looks to be a further one week of travel time, but we should arrive with some time to spare, sir. C8-A is actually arriving in about an hour, and remaining in system for two before departing.”

“Well done, take us to neutral drift at the waypoint tethered to the beacon. I will get credentials confirmation from Operations.” Fayaz said, turning towards another station on the bridge, “Teğmeni Mehmet, are our Circular Credentials in order?”

“Aye ‘Aqid. I received confirmation from TEC a few minutes ago. Sending ship berthing to Navigation now.” Mehmet slid a packet of information through the small data sphere towards the woman on the helm.

“Got it, confirmed berthing.”

“Well done.” Fayaz says, nodding as he returns to the captain's chair. His aid Temiq, a young ensign, arrived at his side with a mug of tea. Straightening the purple double breasted Ottoman naval coat, he took the drink, and gave a quick thanks, before dismissing him. The gold lapels and buttons on the uniform glowed dimly from the led and screen lights on the bridge.

Fayaz was known as an extravagant captain, preferring to don a 19th century Ottoman naval captain's uniform as opposed to modern trappings. This gave him a very recognizable look in all ports they land in, and often got a few backwards glances as this tall man, outside of time, strode through the crowd. On his hip though, rides a truly ancient relic, a generations old officers sword from when his descendents actually did serve in the Ottoman, then Turkish blue water navies. It was an heirloom that he always intended to honor, even down to a matching uniform from the time period, custom made after receiving his commissioning.

The light cruiser floated quietly through the black void, her impulse engines glowing a soft blue before her bow thrusters began firing. Approaching the floating beacon in space, other ships of many different makes and models, and nations floated. The occasional flare of thrusters seen as they maneuvered to remain in position, relative to the beacon.

In the distance, beyond the sight of human eyes, was the jump gate. This massive complex of floating rings and accompanying space station floating in the void was used to stabilize the wormholes that enabled travel between the planetary systems held by the various nations of the Human Sphere. Occasionally charged electricity could be seen arcing, but otherwise it lay dormant. This changed dramatically as the massive form of the Circular began breaching the event horizon. Blue and white light shot out, as space rippled within the jumpgate, and the surface was broken by the gargantuan shape of C8-A. A Circular is not a small object, neither does the word large describe it well. Very little in the Human Sphere is as awe inspiring as the massive bulk of a circular coming through a jumpgate, almost like its breaching the surface of reality, electricity and blue lightning rippling around it.

As the long frame of the Circular cleared the event horizon of the jumpgate, a brief flash of light saw the Minotaur engine spin down, as the ship began to perform a long, slow circle around the waypoint beacon to set itself back up towards the jumpgate and to allow ships to embark and disembark. Smaller spacecraft began flying out of the Circular’s hull, impulse trails following behind them from the many berthing bays that dotted the hull of the great train. As it reached the area of the waypoint beacon, awaiting vessels began firing up their impulse drives and moving towards the Circular. Automated systems began guiding the vessels into their assigned berths.

Fayaz nodded to the woman in the navigator's chair, and the Haqqislamite vessel began maneuvering towards its bay. A larger one towards the back of the Circular. Docking took about 15 minutes and the cruiser shuddered slightly as magnetic clamps locked into place. “Berthing completed well, good job. You are all dismissed to grab some food while we wait for the Circular to head into the jumpgate. Ensure you return to your positions within the hour.”

The crew began filtering out of the bridge, several of them stretching as it was the first time they had stood up in hours. Fayaz had his Geist ping his sister, Maih in the soldiers berth, asking her to join him on the bridge. After that, he flicked a few controls on the arm of his chair to change the picture of the main viewing screens on the bridge, to aim outside of the docking area and into space. Leaning back he sipped on his tea while watching the smaller remote vessels flying around the ships. Some were assisting in unloading cargo, or loading people, or helping shunt older starships into their places. Like so many small worker bees buzzing around.

The door behind him hissed open as Maih entered the bridge. Her long black hair was tied up with a thong and polished piece of wood. Wearing a brown and green tank top and trousers, and wearing sneakers, it was obvious he had interrupted her leisure time.

“Was it entirely necessary to call me to the bridge, brother?” Her usually professional tone was dropped, and she sounded like she was addressing her teenage brother from many years ago. He had definitely interrupted her leisure time.

“My dear sister, I simply wished to spend some quality time together.”

Maih crossed her arms and cocked her head, raising an annoyed eyebrow, “You are alone and bored on the bridge.”

Fayaz smiled and sipped his tea again. Sighing and pulling a chair up next to him, she sat down and looked through the view screens at the activity outside as he spoke up.

“We should be at Bourak in a week, and will probably be on leave for some time. The adh-Dhi’b is long over due for maintenance and overhaul. We’re looking at six months minimum. I thought perhaps we could treat mother, and father to a vacation to Medina. We could meet up with Tiana there, I believe she's a Junior at the University? I know dad has been wanting to visit the Great Mosque.”

“I will need to check, just because you don't have a ship for 6 months doesn't mean I don't have work. Most of my unit will probably need to check in at the Tower before we even make port. It’s outside of Medina though so it may be doable. I know the unit as a whole is up for leave as well.”

The two chatted the hour away until the crew began returning to the bridge, one by one, having their own conversations amongst themselves. With the length of the last tour of duty at New Hypatia and then Human Edge, many were very excited for some leave. Maih remained on the bridge, watching as the Circular finished its tasks of cargo and personnel onloading and offloading, as it neared the Jumpgate again.

The crew could feel the vibrations of the Circulars Minotaur engine spinning up. Light and lightning erupted along the hull again as the Circular neared the event horizon of the Jump Gate, and with a flash of light, the Circular passed through the gate. Moments later, a flash of light erupted again as the Circular was exiting a new Jump Gate.

“‘Aqid, we have arrived at the Faraway Jump Gate.” The woman at navigation informed Fayaz.

“Acknowledged, prepare the ship for disembarkation, let's link with the surrounding vessel paths and plot a course.”

“Sir, I believe we may need to reset long range sensors.” The voice came from the ships EMO Sensor Operator.

“What are you seeing?” Fayaz asked, standing up and coming over to the console.

“Sir, I see a lot of unidentified markers heading for the jump gate at speed.”

“Alright, don’t restart the system, keep a watch and once we are disembarked we can activate our higher frequency sensors and directed RADAR’s.”

“Aye sir.”

“Navigation, prepare to take us out as we clear the gate.”

As Circular C8-A cleared the gate, ships began disembarking. The little cruiser shuddered as the docking clamps released and pushed the ship away from the hull. Its engines fired up as it got some distance, and began turning away.

“‘Aqid! Quantronic alert. Ship infowar defense has just gone up due to an alien quantronic probe against its passive firewalls. Signature does not match known nationalities, while it maintains partial match to Combined Army data signatures.”

Fayaz turned in surprise to the Quantronic Warfare desk and ran over to view the information scrolling through the display.

“Sir, quantronic systems are being assaulted, targeting systems and short range sensors. Firewalls holding. We are deploying countermeasures.”

“RADAR and Sensors, what do you have?” Fayaz asked in concern.

“Sir….thats a lot of markers. All enemy! Bearing will put them at Faraway gate in 5 minutes!”

“Allahumma a'inni…” Fayaz breathed in disbelief as he took several quick strides back to his command chair, and pressed a series of buttons, “General Quarters. This is not a drill. Operations, get us shields and guns. Engineering, I need emergency thrusters activated. We need to get between the Circulars and the enemy NOW. QWC I need you to send out spotlights and system attacks. It appears they are only using passive quantronic attacks so I assume they are weak there. Comms inform the Jump Gate of the incoming and our intentions. Get communications with any other military vessel in the area, all bands and frequencies.”

“Aye ‘Aqid!” echoed the bridge.

Maih was standing up looking at the incoming vessels on the sensor screens as she sent notifications and orders to her Task force berthed below. “I'll get my gear and prepare for anti-boarding actions, keep comms open.”

“Yes, go.” Fayaz responded as he went through displays on the incoming ships.

The light cruiser's engines burned bright as the vessel began gaining speed, trying to maneuver through the other vessels fleeing from the Circular. After a couple of minutes, shields and weapons came to life, and the vessel began maneuvering to link with a couple of Yu Jing ships, a Panoceanian heavy cruiser, and a couple of Nomad attack ships.

“‘Aqid, the incoming vessels are not slowing, nor returning hails. I fear our numbers are not enough to make a difference here.” the voice of his first officer spoke up, “I suggest we engage our stealth systems and see if we can’t slip through.”

“RADAR, what is the course of enemy ships and type?” Fayaz asked.

“Sir, unknown type, signature may match old Exrah signatures though, and their course is still set for the Jump Gate.”

“They are set to take out the Gate and there are thousands of people there. Our decision is made for us.”

His First Officer nodded, “May Allah guide us sir.”

Standing and straightening his uniform and saber, Fayaz responded with a slight smile, “At least we rearmed before departing Human Edge. Weapons, you are free to fire as soon as you have acquired a target. Comms, send a high priority message to HNC, ‘The Combined Army are at Faraway Jump Gate, we are engaging. May Allah protect this ship and her crew.’”

Operation Walrus: The Amir and the Khawarij Assault Chalcis Theme Park Part 2

Deployment:
Task Force 29 quickly advanced into the theme park after whiping out the initial defense. Tarik and the Khawarij remained on the left flank, as Asil and her team moved further right with the rafiq's and fanous remotes. Sekhmet taking lead of the force and the CSU continueing to follow, documenting any damage caused. Arrayed ahead of them though was a second line of defense of Nomads. A Gator held the right flank with a Stygmata, backed up by a zondbot attached to a Monstrucker. A Salamndra hid in the back waiting, while the left flank was a group of Uberfallcommando, but these lay right under the sights of Haley, and Neema, the twin Missile Launchers.

Turn 1:
The Nomads wasted no time as a Heckler ran up into the center of the line, tossing out a Fast Panda into the middle of Asils team. While the Heckler was gunned down, the Salamandra's pilot disembarked and began using Trinity on Haroun. The Hacker worked feverishly setting up firewalls, and trying to fight off the quantronic intrusion, after a few moments though his eyes rolled back and he collapsed. There was no time to check on him though as Ein-213 beeped, the remote was being quantronically assaulted as well. Thankfully its firewalls held. The Gator moved to a better covering position, and launched two mines on the path towards it, and began suppressing.

Sekhmet roared towards the Nomads, beginning the offensive. Mau loped beside her, and went charging around a utility building. While the cat was able to dodge the mine that exploded, the Gator supressing the alley was more accurate. Rounds impacted into the thick hide of the beast, and it collapsed. Sekhmet quickly veered to the side, "Hey Amir! Take care of this thing!"

"We are already advancing, do not do anything rash!" Tarik responded, the Khawarij already running up the alley.

They got to the structure quickly, and Tarik began trading shots with the Gator, wounding each other, but not progressing.

"Ugh! I have an idea! I hope you can take advantage." Sekhmet said before screaming out from cover around the building.

She took a smoke grenade out and tossed it down the street, covering the khawarij as rounds hit her and the bike, tossing her to the pavement. With a thud, she slid and rolled into a banner board, knocking her out of the fight. Tarik cursed under his breath as he saw the action, but knew it was his teams chance. Pulling his giant scimitar, Rashid and Khadim did the same, as they raced into the smoke. Qadim and Rashid broke from the smoke, their scimitars flashing in the light as they cut into the TAG, severing its legs, and driving them deep into the torso. They quickly sheathed their blades, and darted behind the same billboard that Sekhmet fell. Qadim did a quick medical check found her stable but too far gone to assist in battle. He tagged her quantronically for evacuation and moved with the rest of the team.

On the right flank, the Rafiqs moved forward, Rafiq-002 connected to and synchronized with a console of interest. The data they found was huge, but too much to decipher on the field. The remote set up a tunnel to the adh-Dhib for review, and moved to the corner of a giant structure, getting sight on the Uberfallcommandos. It quickly set a quantronic spotlight on the chimera, and relayed information to the shaytaniya. A rocket suddenly shot into the air, a trail of smoke showing where it was going. It arced over head and slammed down directly onto the chimera.

Turn 2:
The Salamandra took point of the Nomad forces as it leaped up on a roof, giving it visibility to Tarik hiding behind the billboard, and catching the Amir unaware. The HRMC blasted and knocked him to the ground. The Stygmata then took an offensive path, coming around the building that Rashid and Qadim were taking cover behind, both tried ot dodge the TAG's weapons, the heavy rocket launcher fired continouesly impacting first Rashid and then Qadim putting them down.

With the path open, the Salamander advanced, its HRMC spinning up again as it got site of Ein-213. The remote tried to tag the TAG but got its leg shot out before it had a chance. Seeing what was happening, Neema raised her missile launcher, and hunkered down behind a half wall, waiting. It was not long before the TAG stepped out from the corner, raising its heavy weapon, but it never had a chance as the armor piercing, explosive rocket impacted directly in its chest, cutting through the armor, and exploding. The TAG was decimated. The Stygmata then began moving out towards a console, passing across a narrow alley, but this did not get passed Haley's keen eyes as she quickly aimed and fired her missile launcher. The rocket streaked down the alley, between buildings, and impacted into the TAG's armored shoulders, knocking it off balance but not out of the fight. A Fanous also tried to contest the TAG's advance as it tried overloading its optics. While it was unsuccessfull, the Stygmata was unable to land its own weaponry as well. With time and resources running out, the remote pilote thought it best to simply access the consol and begin tunneling the data and ignore the Fanous remotes. While the pilot was successfull, the TAG temporarily lost its optics. A zondbot attempted to run the gap the TAG did, but Haley's missile obliterated it. With all options exhausted, and their defense forces all but depleted, the Nomads quickly began to withdraw from the field, allowing the RTF forces to push forward.

Conclusion:
While the Nomad player played a bit more seriously, he was hit with more aggression and speed than he thought was possible, along with a lucky Missile Launcher crit on the Salamander which he only made 1 save from, putting it fully to dead and not giving his engineer a chance to fix it. The Khawarij were able to get 2 of the haris on the Gator in smoke, and while both have NBW, the Khawarij B2 and CC22 won it out for them, getting a critical hit which the Gator was unable to make either save for. By the end of Turn 2, neither of us had any real attack pieces left, but I had more models to draw from, along with a 4 man Core.

Mission: Superiority
OP: 7-3