Book 4 Chapter 10: “Survival/Lost time”

This is going to be an engine assisted emergency turn. All ships report ready for an emergency turn!”

“This is the admiral. Execute emergency turn now!”

The engine and thruster roar made verbal communication impossible. Those that had headsets covering their ears, felt it less, but the only sound was that of roaring engines.

The navigation station showed the rate of turn. The three battlestars were trying to pivot to put their powerful sub-light engines to work slowing their plunge into this solar systems sun.

It seemed to take forever to swing the battlestars around, but they were still alive when the navigation display started indicating the turn was complete.

“Thrusters stop rotation now. Full S T L burn now.”

“Engineering reports engine burn at 100 percent,” the XO reported.

“Bypass the safety warnings. Take us up to 120 percent!” Admiral Lawson ordered.

“We might burn out the STL engines. They provide power for life support, gravity and such, in case you forgot?” A small voice crackled on speaker from the engine room.

“Burn out the engines or burn up in the sun. Sounds like two very crappy options,” the XO opined.

“Hundred twenty percent NOW!” Admiral Lawson ordered.

“We’re slowing down now.

“Back off the thrusters and S T L to 100 percent make sure coolant flow is nominal,” Admiral Lawson ordered.

“Damage control team’s to condition 1. Set ship to condition two. Engineering, this is the XO. Give those plates some time to cool before you stick your hands in there!” ordered Major Jacob’s the XO.

“I want a frakking telescope feed on monitor 5,” Lawson shouted.

“This is engineering,navigation computers all crashed. Some kind of data error.” an engineer’s voice crackled on the speaker.

 “This is Commander Modi. Confirm that all fires are out. Any crew, military or civilian if you have any medical experience, report to sick bay immediately. We are short of deck crew. The starboard hanger is being converted to an overflow medical bay.”

“Route the more serious cases to the original sick bay. After we stabilize the crew, I want a count of everyone able to report for duty. Air wing, but out a combat air patrol, two birds launched, alert 5 in the tubes until further notice. We took an  internal hit in the mark seven parts bay. Until that is sorted out prioritize repairs on mark two vipers.”

CIC Saturn:

“Commander, the turn is complete. We are going to need the 120 engine thrust to avoid plunging into this star.”

“Take the S T L to 120 percent. As soon as we have the collision clock going our way, we can cut the thrust.”

In her head, something about this emergency turn was setting off alarm bells in her head. They were near light speed. If they tried to decelerate from light speed, something bad might happen. Time dilation. There was a long, boring physics lecture about that from her days in the academy.

“Oh Frak me. Get me a camera view. Forward. I need to see the stars.”

With her photographic memory, she recalled that the stars were moving way too fast. This was not good. Time was passing by quickly at the point they had started this misadventure. “Oh my gods,” someone said.

Everything they knew, everyone they loved, who had survived the war up to this point were experiencing time faster than the three battlestars that were tying to avoid plunging into a star at near light speed.

“This is the commander. Damage control teams deploy immediately. Prioritize the compartments we blew out to contain the fires. All flight decks are shut down. All birds that we’ve recovered and pilots prepare for reorganization. I want a complete inventory of all flyable birds, pilots and rank. I’m going to have to re-organize the air wing from scratch.”

The XO grabbed Commander Ramirez by the shoulder to get her attention. “We have chaos right now. We have pilots from all three battle stars. There are at least a dozen different viper squadrons represented by our emergency recovery. Mostly we got birds that were damaged early. Lots of rooks. We took heavy casualties from our deck gang.”

“Executive officer. Do you have any good news for me?” Maria Ramirez asked in a firm, steady voice.

Commander Maria Ramirez ran a hand through her hair. Little bits of door glass flew out and fell to the floor.

The XO, led the commander by her hand to the operations console. Glass crunched under their boots.

“We used a fair amount of ammunition on this operation. Good news is we checked out all supplies full. A lot of hull damage, none of the ammunition bunkers were hit. From the supply situation, we are 80% full.”

“All right XO, we are going to need to take care of our casualties, the dead and then reconstitute the air wing. I need you to keep this part quiet until I have a chance to meet with Admiral Lawson. We just proved Pearson’s theory of relativity. That trip from near light speed to idle could have cost us decades. Have the astronomy department, if we even have one, take some sightings so we can figure out how much time we lost and where the frak we are.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Get the air wing straightened out. Coordinate with Solaria and Mercury and provide birds for Combat Air Patrol. We are going to have to figure out how to keep this warship running. In a week or so, we are going to need to organize recon. We need to find out if the New Helios survived, and then plot a route towards it that won’t lead the local toasters back to ambush.”

“Commander, Admiral Lawson has called a commanders conference in person in her quarters on the Mercury. She is requesting an estimate as to when that can happen.”

“Well good luck with that one. Lets put a calendar on a dart board and play blindfolded darts.”

* * *

The crews of the three badly damaged battlestars set about the grim task of recovering the bodies of their dead. Many could only be identified by their dog tags.

All three sick bays were overflowing with wounded. Anyone that knew the basic laws of physics and had access to a window could tell something had happened. The three warships all had astronomy departments, and they took star sightings.

Mercury’s IT director, known by his call sign “HG” discovered why the navigation computers on all three battlestars had crashed.

These computers were highly integrated with FTL jump systems. After completion of every jump, these systems tried to get astrological data updates prioritizing the local area and any planned jumps.

HG could see that the crash was due to a massive amount of data, far more than even what was needed for a new redline jump, after upgrading the fleet to Cylon faster than light technology.

That could only mean one thing. He transmitted a secure email to his old boss, Commander Maria Ramirez, commander of the battlestar Saturn.

Rumors went through the three warships, faster than light speed. A depressing pall settled over the weary survivors, who were working up to 20 hour shifts to repair the damage.

9 hours and 21 minutes later. 

In Admiral Lawson’s office. There had been a shell penetration nearby. The glass case, with models of Mark VII vipers and various classes of Colonial ships, had been shattered. Navigation charts had been burned.

Commander’s Modi and Ramirez, were admitted to the damaged space by a pair of burly marines. A modest array of pastries, coffee and some seaweed concoction sat on the end table in front of the couch.

“So here is the sitrep,” Commander Ramirez began. “We absorbed a massive EMP or electromagnetic pulse, while we were doing our FTL jump. The physics weenies believe this disrupted the jump while we were passing through it. All of our FTL gear was overloaded and damaged before they could form a stable event horizon for us to pass through.”

“The result was we were ejected from the jump field at very high speed, nearly light speed.”

“We are lucky the field did not collapse,” Commander Modi added. “In some simulations the EMP would collapse the FTL field and crush the ships.”

Commander Ramirez continued, “An FTL is kind of like a tunnel that opens up from here to there. It was an absolute miracle that it did not collapse. So we are unlucky, we get ejected two hundred thousand light years from where we programmed the emergency jump, headed straight into the star.”

“That is some absolutely crappy luck,” Lawson opined.

Ramirez went on. “If there was enough time, meaning we were not headed straight into a sun, we could have kept on cruising, repaired the FTL drives and conducted another jump to come out without the time dilation. Pearson’s theory of relativity is that as we decelerate from light speed to idle, time passes very quickly outside our event.”

“So 40 years have passed?” Admiral Lawson asked.

“Thirty nine and change.” Commander Ramirez confirmed.

“So, everyone we knew is dead?” Commander Modi asked.

“Well the toasters might have killed them anyway?” Lawson predicted. “We don’t really know if operation magic trick succeeded. It was kind of a long shot. What do you recommend we do now Commander Ramirez?”

“We get out reconnaissance, try and figure out what’s out there. New toasters, old toasters, whatever. In our time they built a pretty substantial supply network. We should be able to pick up the fuel we need. We are going to need weeks just to get the air wing reconstituted.”

“All right. Get out the reconnaissance raptors. Let’s be stealthy and not attract any attention.”

Admiral Lawson had a gray pallor to her skin. She kept one hand firmly on her stomach. The thought of drinking some coffee made her want to wretch.

“Yes Sir,” Commander Modi said. She stood up and bushed construction dust off her uniform pants.

“The good news I guess, is we validated Pearson’s theory admiral. With some lab work, we might be able to manipulate this accident into a 200 K light year FTL jump. That puts the red line way out there.”

“The good news for me is that I won’t have to see Corey Brooks again. If I’m wrong, she might be a little worse for wear.”

Both women chuckled.

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