Hero of the Republic: (The Parasite Initiative, Book 1) by Britt Ringel

Author:Britt Ringel [Ringel, Britt]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2016-09-08T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 27

Vix Kirkpatrick slammed sideways in his shockseat when the missiles struck. His restraints burrowed deep into the fabric of his shocksuit, severely bruising his shoulders and waist. His helmet prevented whiplash but not the intense migraine that came with pounding his head brutally against his left shoulder.

The trauma had been inflicted before Kirkpatrick could even gasp and he tried to right himself with unsteady hands. “That was bad,” he commented to the four spacemen sharing his damage control station. Blinking away the stars in his vision, he consulted his trouble board. Falcata had been impaled. Flashing, red indicators signaled severe damage amidship but his status board offered absolutely no information in a wide cone piercing well through the ship’s heart. Those dormant indicators meant something far worse than the blinking, red lights around them.

He attempted to release his restraints but found one of the connections had bound. “We’ve got to work our way to the bridge,” he called out while pulling a short knife from a sheath attached to his right boot. “Santos, call down to Lieutenant Lovejoy and make sure they’re all right.”

He sawed madly through the strap holding him to his seat. His Ops-A damage control team was spread between two stations. Kirkpatrick and his companions were on the middle deck, forward of the bridge. The second, four-spaceman team was on the same deck, aft. A cursory glance at the trouble board hinted that his second team should have survived the hits.

“Santos,” he yelled again, “after calling the bridge, contact Spaceman Hart and tell her to get her squad to the bridge. We may not have a path to it but they might.”

Kirkpatrick sheathed his knife and stood. Damage control kits and medical packs hung on the walls. He hurried to the portal, grabbing one of each on the way. As the door slid open, he turned to wait for his team.

Still seated, Santos cried, “I’m getting nothing from the bridge, sir!” The spaceman popped his restraints and began to stand.

“Wait!” Kirkpatrick screamed while waving him down. “You stay here. If communication with the bridge is out, the other DC teams are going to be calling us.” He thrust a finger savagely at the nineteen-year-old. “You route those calls to me, okay? I gotta see how bad we’re hurt.”

* * *

Twist had nearly bitten through his lower lip. He held his left hand to his mouth through his open helmet, trying to stem the flow of blood. Falcata was bleeding too, hemorrhaging wrecked equipment and superstructure along with untold amounts of her atmosphere.

“Where?” Dozier asked frantically.

Damage Controlman First Class Crowley gaped at his panel. “One hit us right in the center… it’s real bad.” He shook his head hysterically while crying out, “I can’t find a second hit.”

“We got hit twice, Marcus,” Twist insisted. Blood leaked between his fingers. “I watched them both track in.” A dark realization passed through him like a shockwave. He stabbed at his comm panel. “Devore? You there?”

Silence.

Twist kept calling for Devore even as he opened a second channel.

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