Captain Shana Dowlings watched the view screen closely. Not that there was much to see. There had been a flash and the screen had blanked out as shielding cut in. Now they were watching a deceptively idyllic scene, oceans and the edge of a continent.
Dowling's ship, the Corelean, was a medical evacuation vessel with nearly three hundred crew members. It had some of the best healers and most advanced equipment in the Consortium. It was a great honor to captain her, that was definite. Still, Dowlings, a hopper captain for nearly the last ten years, was uneasy with such a large ship, and with a crew that was a mix of civilian and military personnel.
"Wave past," one the flight technician's said. "Radiation at seven, well within range."
"Base ships says the missile is destroyed," the communications officer said.
"We saw that," Kavinda, Shana's master healer, joked. She snorted.
"They say we can pull back," the officer went on. "They are leaving a military hopper to monitor the situation." Captain Ganaka had deployed a small compliment of vessels, a couple scout ships, three military hoppers and the Corelean to deal with this new threat.
"Rohanna," Shana said to her pilot, "make ready to leave orbit on my command."
"Captain Dowlings?" Kavinda said from his seat. The Corelean's command center was a wide round room. Most of the time the pilots and techs moved freely around the edges, using whichever control panel suited their current needs. However in times of crisis, flight chairs were deployed. The captain's chair was front center, far enough back for her to have a wide view of the pilots and technicians. The master healer's seat was, inconveniently, to her right and behind her.
Shana craned her neck to look at him. He was a hanuman male, old enough to look dignified but still vibrant. She thought about giving the order to break secure, just so she could unstrap and get out of this seat, talk to him face to face. But protocol dictated she waited. So she strained her neck instead. "Yes?" she replied.
"We are picking up life signs. From the vessel that shot down the missile."
"Were they in the blast radius?"
"Just outside it," Arvita, her civil engineer, said. "They took a hit and they are in the hot zone."
"But there are survivors," Kavinda said.
"How long before they can be evacuated?" Shana asked.
Rohanna snorted. "They have no evac ships."
"Nothing?" Shana asked.
"Nothing with the size or range for that sort of mission, no," Rohanna said. "At least not that we've seen so far."
"How soon will it be safe?" Shana aimed this at Arvita.
"Three, four days," was the reply.
"Ma'am," Kavinda objected. "They won't last a single watch. Not with that fallout."
"You're suggesting we go down," Shana said. "Into the hot zone?"
"The ships shielding will protect the crew," Kavinda said.
"I don't know," Arvita countered. "We aren't really rated for that..."
"It will not protect the healers, or do you have some plan to suck these survivors into the ship somehow?"
"I won't order any of them to go out in that," Kavinda said. "But I will ask. Mark my words, they will not refuse. There are lives at stake, lives only we can save. I know my crew, they will want to try."
"Ma'am, this could risky..." Arvita began.
"Arvita," Shana interrupted, "I want a timer, longest safe exposure for the ship." She turned to Kavinda, "when the timer is up, we are leaving, understood?" He nodded. "Set course for descent."
"What should I tell command?" The communication officer asked.
"Tell them it's our job," Shana said.
######
The President of the United States closed his eyes and offered a short prayer for the crew of the Cambridge. When he was done he opened them and looked around the war room. His entire cabinet and military advisers were squeezed into one half of the room.
On the empty side of the war room was a holographic projection showing the Princess Sarasvat and her staff. She was back in the New York hotel suite that had become her temporary diplomatic headquarters. She was on the balcony, sitting in lotus position on a low stool. She was wearing a loose, flowing gown with red and gold hues. The president found it odd to stare at what he knew was a blank wall and see instead the New York skyline.
"Your ship has successfully neutralized the missile," the princess said, looking up from a glowing holo-display on her left. "At great cost to themselves." She was beautiful, that much was certain. She appeared to be young and she appeared to be human. Neither of those were true, however. She was simian, as they said, her race had evolved from the same DNA as humans. The only visual clue that she was not a human was her gold flecked eyes. And she was old. Her race was long lived, she had, for all her youthful appearance, several thousand years behind her.
"Their sacrifice will be honored," the president said, "and their loss mourned."
"Indeed, by us as well," the princess replied.
The president noticed for the first time that the area to the right of the princess was now blank. That area had shown a projection of Captain Ganaka, commander of the Consortium expeditionary forces, and the command deck of his base ship. Where had he gone?
"We will need a full roster of the crew," the princess was saying. The president's eyes narrowed. He liked this Princess Sarasvat a lot better than Captain Ganaka, but he wasn't sure he trusted her. Not yet. Why did they need a crew list?
As if in answer, the blank area next to her blinked to life. The image of a different ship's main deck appeared. The room was circular and white. The Captain's chair was at the center, flanked by two officer's just behind it. The rest of the flight crew was in a semi circle around the room.
The person in the captain's chair was female, long blond hair pulled back. Her uniform was form fitting and blue, unlike the red they had seen up until now. Next to her sat a hanuman in a long white robe. Humans and Vatari were one thing, but the president wasn't sure he would ever get used to seeing ape men. Ape men that could talk and were, reportedly, as intelligent as any human, especially.
"Captain Shana Dowlings of the Corelean," the woman said, tapping her fist to her chest in the standard Consortium salute. She caught sight of the princess, bowed and added, "Princess Sarasvat, ma'am."
"Captain Dowlings, what is your status?" the princess said.
The woman consulted a screen at her side. "We are in the hot zone already, three minutes from destination."
"Destination?" the president asked.
"The Corelean is a medical evac ship," the princess replied. "Their destination is your destroyer."
"Radiation is dangerous, at least to us," the president started.
"To us as well, we can not stop it, but we can treat it," the princess replied.
"Is there a danger to your people?" the president asked.
The hanuman hit something on his screen and a timer appeared on the holo-projection. "Master healer Javinda here," he said with a bow of his head. "Indeed it can be. This is our time clock. When the timer hits zero we must be leaving this place, or risk a lethal exposure ourself. As to your people, if we can get to them and treat them early, they will recover. But it will be a long road for all, I am afraid."
The president nodded. To his Chief of Staff he said, "the crew roster, share it with them."
"Of course," the chief replied.
#####
Lana's stomach flopped and lurched as the Corelean's artificial gravity cut off but the straps held her in place. You would think, after all the years I've spent in space my stomach would have adjusted. But Lana had spent the lions share of those years on big stations. This expedition was her first experience on a small ship. She looked around at her crew-mates. Janda, her apprentice, squirmed in his seat, his blue eyes bright. She smiled and touched his shoulder. "Scared?" she asked.
"Ha," he replied. "Just thinking about my funeral."
There was a titter of nervous laughter at this. There were almost fifty people, nearly half of the healers onboard, in this one long narrow space. Normally, it was the left forward hall, leading to the main bay, and normally it was not narrow. But when "secure" was called, seats slid from either wall. When they were making a secure landing, such as this one, healers sat here, strapped in.
"What's a young man like you worrying about your funeral for?" Kavi asked from the far side of the hall. Kavi was short with short blond hair, a shade darker than Janda's bright blond, and a narrow frame.
"Worrying? What's to worry about?" Janda replied. "It's going to be magnificent. The telling will go on for days. And when all the lights have been lit, it will be like a new sun appeared." Everyone laughed.
Lana smiled. The telling, when those whose lives had been touched by the deceased gathered to tell their stories, to light a light in honor of the dearly departed, was a Kurgara tradition originally. But it suited healers, too.
"You hear that?" Kavi called down the line. "We are going to fly through the hot zone and run out in radioactive fall out just so Janda can have one more light at his funeral."
"More like three hundred," Lana said. Everyone sober at the thought. Lana grabbed for her straps as the ship lurched again and then leveled out. "And if anyone's having second thoughts, you've got about two minutes to back out."
"Hell, no," Janda said.
"Hell, no." Echoed down the hall as other voices chimed in.