The New Holland Incident

It had to be one of her guardians ships because she had never seen one quite like it before, and the shuttle agreed. The remaining one was also an unknown, but much smaller and farther away. The other small shuttles appeared to be approaching that one as well. It was a good sign that there was where she needed to fly, but to make sure she summoned one of her friends to check.

"WHICH ONE IS WHERE WE ARE GOING TO?" She asked, turning herself to look back. The Marines were now sitting where they were supposed to be, good.

"To the Churchill." She heard one of them say in her head. It was good information. There was only one problem however. She still didn't know which one was Churchill. She decided to help clarify.

"I DON'T KNOW WHICH ONE IS CHURCHILL." She stated, pretty confident that she did know, but still wanted to make perfectly sure. "BIG ONE OR SMALL ONE?" She asked. After a lengthy pause her question was answered.

"The small one."

Good, just as she thought. She was smarter than the robots gave her credit for, she knew. It was something she decided to keep to herself however. She didn't want to hurt their feelings. Now, there was only one small matter left to attend to. She queued up the shuttles broadcasting equipment and directed it to take input from her outside suits helmet talking piece, the one that the Marines didn't give her.

"CHURCHILL, THIS IS HYANDE VAL-ASKANSE SHUTTLE. WE ARE APPROACHING. PLEASE DO NOT SHOOT!" She told them, as was proper flying etiquette. The last part she added in, just to be safe. The response came in as a directed transmission. Something Vas was not entirely sure she had done herself.

"Hyande Val-Askanse shuttle, this is the HMS Churchill." The voice, not at all that different from her guardians except maybe a bit lighter, told her. "You are clear for approach and landing. Please release your controls for automated docking when within one kilometer. Churchill out."

Vas wasn't sure how much a one kilometer was, but the request was simple enough. When she was close enough she would let them fly her in. Not that she couldn't land herself, but if that was what HMS Churchill wanted, she wouldn't deny them. It wasn't much farther anyways. That was when the shuttle started yelling at her, demanding she know that the Breten Hvas ships were looking at it. The radar sensors flashed and painted a picture for her. Four small insects were traveling the void, charging through the nothing to meet with them. They were not friendly insects but harmful, designed of nefarious purpose to do them ill.

She increased her speed. The effects of fast began to weigh on her chest. The outside suit gripped on her tighter, informing her through a visual tinge that it would try it's best to keep her awake. Sleep did sound good however as she was starting to tire. She willed it to wait as she commanded the shuttle to preform a quick turn. The part of herself that had guided her to this place told that she needed to make it as hard as possible for the four insects to catch them. Confusing turns and sudden movements were a way of doing just that. However no matter what she tried, her four followers would not leave her be. So focused was she on her task of avoiding the hurt that when the shuttle told her an alert of close proximity she almost jumped out of her chair.

Many flashes of light crossed in front of her, insects even smaller than the four flew by in the seemingly millions. Soon the four harmful insects were no longer there, snuffed out by a thousand tiny bites. In her view a large ship now took it's place. HMS Churchill, the radar sensor told her. It was... absolutely gorgeous. Hard lines met an angled frame accenting the limited curves there were. Vas was positive that she had never seen a more beautiful sight in her life. It was cold and black, much like her guardians. And most certainly armed the same. But it gave her a sense of... relief. A sense of safety. It was there to protect her, to protect all of them. A warrior of the void, traveling through the great nothing to assist those in need. The shuttle, obviously not pleased with its woman's obvious new infatuation, made sure to interrupt. A communication was coming through.

"Hyande Val-Askanse shuttle, this is HMS Churchill. Please release your controls for docking." The voice requested.

"CONTROLS RELEASED." She complied slowing and opening up her controls, requesting of her jilted shuttle to send a directed message this time.

Moments later it was confirmed that HMS Churchill was communicating directly with the shuttle. Her shuttle was not happy about it however. The connection to HMS Churchill was apparently sour, and her shuttle was trying its very best to swallow it. Enough was enough however as she was jerked to the side by the firing of a thruster cluster in the direction opposite of their destination. That was when another message came through.

"Hyande Val-Askanse shuttle, our system is having difficulties maintaining a stable connection with your controls. You have been cleared for manual landing in our rear hangar bay. Our flight crew will direct you..."

Vas didn't hear the last words. Her eyes were too focused on the spectacle in front of her. A light, so beautiful it was blinding. Her outside suit and her own eyes tried to shield her from it, but the majesty of it could not be withheld. The cosmic dance, playing out in front for her in all it's glory. She cried, wept tears of joy. Even as the shuttle tried to warn her about the incoming electromagnetic radiation.

February 2nd, 2172 -- 1338 Hours Local Time

Commonwealth Patrol Ship HMS Battleaxe

Commonwealth Controlled Space, New Holland System

The air in the room was beginning to taste warm and stale. Normally it would just be a simple matter of turning up the refresh rate for the bridge's ventilation system. However with a lack of power and several leaks thanks to the holes punched in the hull, the reserve of available oxygen had started to become pushed thin. The Captain tried slowing his breathing in a vain attempt to try and alleviate some of the issue, but with about twenty other people in the ship's command center with him, it was essentially a futile gesture. Regardless, the fact that the life support systems were still functioning, abet at reduced effectiveness, was a small miracle unto itself. Llewellyn attempting to wipe the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, pulling it back a moment later to look at it. Droplets of sweat clung to his skin. The surface tension of the liquid not allowing them to break off on their own. The artificial gravity was gone as was a generous amount of the climate control.

He shook his hand and watched as the small spheres detached themselves and veered off into their own respective paths. It didn't surprise him, artificial gravity generation was always programmed as the first to go. Being as it was singlehandedly the largest drain on power aside from the engines themselves. Besides, losing the AG generation wasn't the worst thing that could happen. Arguably the worst had already happened. The ship was designed to be possible to work in a micro gravity environment. And if it really came down to it, they could use forward thrust to simulate the downwards pull they were use to. That however would mean they would have to slacken the inertial dampening, which in turn would mean that they could only safely travel at a fraction of their normal cruising speeds or risk liquefying their internal organs and bursting blood vessels in their brains thanks to acceleration G-forces. That wasn't really something that they had to fear though, seeing as they were essentially 'dead in the water' as the saying went.

The hostile ships were closing on their intercepting courses. Methodically making their way towards his crippled ship. The Battleaxe was no longer in any position to defend itself. The Point Defense Cannons were now either destroyed or inoperable and their missile supply was essentially depleted. The only thing that Llewellyn and his crew could do now was wait. The only bit of comfort came from the knowledge that they had been able to stall the aliens long enough for the Marine teams aboard the transport to begin extracting their hostages. The first group was already secure, with the second group to be liberated shortly, if they hadn't been already.

Radio communications with the extraction force had been spotty at best. With now at its worst being non-existent. The last bit of relieving information that they had been able to hear was that multiple trips wouldn't be necessary. The transport had not been nearly as full as their previous estimates. All the preparation and planning for reusable entry points had ended up being completely unnecessary. Llewellyn had no doubts in his mind that it would have worked, but seeing as they would never get a chance to test it now, it was a moot point. The Captain couldn't help but wonder if his counterpart on the Churchill might try and execute the same kind of extraction plan on the Battleaxe that they had come up with for the alien transport.

As much as a small part of him wanted it to be true, Llewellyn knew the possibility was unlikely. They had started this rescue operation with less than ideal support and already disadvantaged in numbers. The alien pirates had unknown capabilities and the two Commonwealth ships had essentially gone in blind. However despite that fact they had been able to hold out long enough that it looked like they were going to complete their objective. It hadn't exactly gone the way they had planned, but engagements like this rarely did. It had already taken a harsh toll on his crew. Seventy-two reported casualties with thirty-five of those confirmed dead. There were still more who were reported missing.

Parts of his ship were exposed to hard vacuum and contact with the damage control teams was becoming more and more infrequent. That wasn't even to mention the remnants of the first alien boarding group were still sporadically engaging his sailors. Even though the majority of their impromptu boarding team had been killed when the engineering decks decompressed, there were still enough of them wandering around to harass his crew. The lack of coherent radio communications within the ship had made keeping reliable track of them nearly impossible.

If there had ever been a more definitive point in his career that Llewellyn had to admit defeat, he surely couldn't think of one. A quick look around his command deck confirmed those feelings without a certainty of a doubt. In the dim and pale glow of the emergency lighting, it seemed almost as if his command staff had aged twenty years in the past two hours. Llewellyn leaned over in his chair, taking a final glance at his now black and thoroughly powered down terminal screen and thumbed the ship wide intercom. He couldn't help but let out a short laugh as the system refused to respond. He should have expected that.

He looked up from his momentary examination of the panel to see the eyes of his XO staring at him. Counter to what he had previously thought, the lack of a constant downward pull had seemed to ease some of the wrinkles in her cheeks, giving her the look of a woman at least five years younger than what he knew she currently was. She was still attempting to keep up with and coordinate the various repair and damage teams who were still able to report in. The look of, almost relief in her face as she floated there was somewhat welcoming. Like she knew exactly what he was thinking. Which was very probably true. Llewellyn unbuckled himself from his command chair and gently pushed himself up, purposely snagging one foot under his terminal to prevent himself from floating into the command deck's ceiling. From his new vantage point he was able to look over his entire command crew at once. Several had taken notice and turned to look at him. Without much more hesitation he cleared his throat.

"Ladies and Gentlemen." The Captain began, eliciting the attention of the remainder of the bodies in the room. "There comes a time in everyone's life where they have to make a decision, a hard and sometimes painful decision. To stay and fight or retreat to fight another day. We've given them one hell of a fight, but now I believe it is time to call for a retreat." Llewellyn could sense an unconscious collective sigh of relief from his crew. They knew what was coming. And Llewellyn couldn't blame them. "So we're abandoning ship."

What Llewellyn had thought was an unconscious sigh, seemed to actually manifest itself into a physical one with his words. However the silence of the room was still deafening. He looked over at his XO who gave him a silent nod of approval. It truly was a painful choice, but to stay any longer was putting unnecessary risk on the remainder of his crew. As much as he didn't want to lose the Battleaxe, at this point it was foolish to try to save it. The Captain took another look over his crew, some of them seemed bewildered, others shocked, but most simply looked exhausted. And as it was, his words had seemed to fail to correctly motivate them, as most still stayed at their posts, un-moving. Llewellyn felt that perhaps he needed to give them as tighter sense of urgency.

"XO, get in contact with whomever you still can. Tell them that they have fifteen minutes to abandon ship before it's scuttled." Llewellyn commanded, looking over to Commander Haynes for a sign of acknowledgment before turning his attention back to the command crew. "I need one or two volunteers to stay behind to make sure everyone clears out before detonation. The rest of you head to the life boats."

"Aye Captain, I volunteer." Commander Haynes replied, to no real surprise from Llewellyn.

"Same here Captain." This time the reply came from Lieutenant Belvins, who had pushed off from his console and was now bracing himself on the ceiling.

"Thank you, to both of you." The Captain said with an acknowledging nod to both of his officers. "The rest of you shove off. Try to burn as hard and as fast away as you can before contacting the Churchill." He took a momentary pause to look at the faces of his crew. Some he had served with for quite a while, others he still wasn't quite sure of their names. Regardless, it would most likely be the last chance he ever got. "Godspeed to you all."

The remainder of the command crew filtered their way out of the room one by one, using whatever handholds they could to speed their journey. The command deck's life boats were just beyond the door that lead to the ships elevator system. Handily close by for just such an occasion. No more than a few minutes later the sounds of explosive bolts being fired off echoed through the command center. With no way for the Battleaxe to cover their escape, Llewellyn hoped that the aliens would leave them alone and decide to focus on their bigger prize. In truth there was really no way in knowing. The radar systems were still down and now even the feed from the drone had been severed. Lieutenant Belvins continued to do his best to give the Captain something, but with the state it was in, his ship was having none of it.

Haynes had been able to get in contact with at least some of the remaining crew to inform them about the standing evacuation order and the time frame in which they had to do it. Llewellyn knew that they would probably be unable to get the message to everyone. There were sections of the ship which had become completely isolated due to hull breaches or a myriad of other catastrophic issues. All he could really hope for was that it reached enough. With just over five minutes to go, the Captain made his way over to his still working away Operations officer.

"Mason, it's time for you to go." He said, putting a hand on the man's shoulder. The Lieutenant stared back at him with a look of confusion.

"Sir, I volunteered to stay." The man replied, not letting his gaze shift from his commanding officer.

"Were you able to do as I asked?" The Captain inquired.

"Yes sir, I pulled the necessary power from life support, what's left of it." Belvins responded. "All you have to do is launch."

"Good, then there is no reason for you to die here Leftenant. Take the remaining pod and get out of here. If you don't leave soon you'll never clear the debris." The Captain stated, more forcefully now.

"Negative Captain, I volunteered to sta..." The Captain curtly cut him off.

"It's an order Leftenant. Don't make me throw you out of the ship myself." Llewellyn insisted, knowing full well that if the Lieutenant was truly determined to stay, there was probably very little he could actually do about it.

Thankfully that did appear to be the case, as a very reluctant Lieutenant Mason Belvins unstrapped himself from his seat and pushed his way off towards the life boats. Llewellyn watched him the whole way to make sure that the man didn't have a sudden surge of suicidal patriotism. But to his credit, the Lieutenant exited the command deck without even so much as a backwards glance. Thirty seconds later the familiar sounds of the life boat undocking sang the man's goodbyes. Llewellyn wasn't sure if the life boat would be able to get far enough away in the time he had decided they had remaining, so he decided to delay himself just a little bit to give Mason that extra chance. Before to long however he found himself floating beside his XO, staring deeply at the launch program that the Lieutenant had set up for him. He stole a look at his commander. Haynes seemed almost serene in the moment. She projected as air of calm that Llewellyn couldn't help but bask in.

"You don't have to be here for this." Llewellyn said.

"The Leftenant took the last life boat." She replied.

"I'm sure we can find another one." Llewellyn mused. "It's a big ship."

"Would you be getting on it?" The Commander asked, knowing full well the man's response.

"No." He replied.

"Then neither am I." She stated flatly.

"I could make it an order."

"That won't work on me."

"I know..." Llewellyn drew a deep and hard breath, letting it out slowly. "Ready then?"

Before Llewellyn could hear the response he felt the Commanders fingers slip around his own. She held his hand tightly before responding.

"Ready."

Llewellyn tapped the initiation key. It was a simple program. Since the main reactor had been dumped they couldn't overload it to scuttle the ship. Instead he had asked Lieutenant Belvins to slave the three unused nuclear warheads to a single command program, have them cycle a partial launch and then detonate. It wasn't exactly by the book, but it should hopefully work in a pinch. Hopefully the resulting explosion would be enough to destroy the Battleaxe completely, along with any poor sons of bitches who decided to be too close at the same time. As the program began to spool, Llewellyn squeezed his XO's hand.

"I love you Irene. You know that right?"

"I know Hugh, I kn..."

British Commonwealth ship HMS Churchill, Some Time Later

Commonwealth controlled system of 'New Holland'

Vas simply felt sick. In fact it was probably the worst case of nausea she had ever experienced. The ship medic that would periodically come over to check the thing that they had put in her arm had given her a bowl to use in case she felt the need to vomit. It had already been needed to be cleaned out twice so far. Just when she thought there wasn't anything more for her to throw up, her body disagreed and a new wave of vomiting would begin again. Thankfully she was fairly sure now that she was at the point where she physically could not throw anything else up. A small comfort everything considered.

Vas wasn't even quite sure how she had gotten here. There were bits and pieces but everything was so disjointed that it gave her a headache when she tried to hard to remember it. All she knew was that she was laying on some kind of medical bed in what looked like a hangar bay or something along those lines. There were others here as well. Passengers and crew that had been rescued along side her. What she did know however was that she was on one of the British ships, the HMS Churchill. The medic had confirmed that for her. Apparently she had flown one of the shuttles from the Hyande Val-Askanse, with 'Leftenant' Souther's team on board, and manually landed on the Churchill through an electromagnetic pulse.