Mellasitox swallowed down a glob of metallic tanged spittle as she pushed herself upright into her chair at the centre of Daedalus’ bridge. A sharp pain in her chest protested at the movement but the captain dismissed the grumbling injury with a forced clearing of the throat.

“Situation Report,” she announced across the dimly lit bridge, the red glow of emergency lighting dribbling out from the bulkheads.

“Main power is out,” Bale replied from the ops console as she hauled herself back to the dark interface.

“Do we have anything?”

“Local batteries should be kicking in-”

As if on cue a smattering of consoles flashed to life, the familiar orange flow of the LCARS interface emitting a comforting warmth across the room.

“Well?” Mellasitox sighed, the ache in her chest was spreading, a dull thrum becoming a sharp whistle.

“Power loss across the ship, main systems are unavailable. External sensors, shields, weapons -”

“- Damage?” Sehgalis’ voice cut across the lieutenant from the crimson-shaded corner where she leant against a bulkhead massaging her shoulder. She tested it with a swing, rolling it back and forth in the socket, causing a grinding crunch that shook her bones. She bit her lip to mask the shock of pain, a small drip of blood escaping from beneath her teeth, but her arm swung freely and without further protestation.

“I’m seeing a massive hull breach on decks four & five, starboard side.” Bale prodded the console in frustration as it flickered. “There’s a hole right through the primary hull, Captain.”

“Forcefields?”

“I can’t tell ma’am, I can only see it because of the blindspot,” Edwina grumbled a few choice words beneath her breath as the console sputtered again. “I don’t think we’re venting atmosphere but internal sensors are… erratic.”

“Indira?” The pain in Mellasitox’s chest was becoming blinding, her stomach turning in somersaults as a red-hot poker began pushing through her chest.

“On it. Do we have comms?” Sehgali pulled herself upright and began moving towards the rear of the small bridge.

“No, but commbadges should give us some back-to-back communications.” Bale pulled her high stool back towards the console, allowing her frame to fall into the torn padding.

“Understood, don’t lose the badge.” Sehgali stopped in her tracks as she approached the unstirred doors to the turbo lift that would normally have swung open.

“Guessing no turbo lifts either.”

“Sorry Commander.” Bale offered an apologetic grimace to hide the sharp pain across her brow as she pulled her short blue bob away from her face.

“We’re lucky it’s a small ship then. With me, Ensign.” Sehgali offered a weak smile to a nearby mustard-clad officer as she patted him on the chest. “Let’s climb some ladders.”

As the commander disappeared beyond the short corridor to the rear of the bridge, Mellasitox allowed herself a sharp intake of breath whilst the team continued their work. The pain in her chest refused to subside and now felt like hot lava was running down her spine. With herculean effort, she adjusted her position and unclipped her jacket, allowing her long fingers to slip inside and probe her undershirt.

As her fingers alighted on a damp patch her breath stalled, as much from panic as pain.

She hesitated to withdraw her hand, every second without the sight of crimson across her palm suddenly a blessing. She did not so much fear the injury but rather the burden she would become to the crew in an already difficult situation; alone, blind and vulnerable in a distant part of the quadrant.

She eased her hand free of her jacket to find it pink and pale, glistening in the dull red glow.

Only sweat, not blood. Mellasitox drew in a sharp breath of relief.

“Captain, are you okay?” The gaunt face of Maksha had appeared by her side, his thick black brows raised in concern.

“It feels like someone is pouring plasma across my chest.”

Maksha held up a tricorder in one hand, its detachable sensor head already chirruping expectantly in his other.

“If I may?” His query was polite but unyielding.

Mellasitox nodded, leaning aside with some difficulty and a pained wince to allow the man better access. It took barely a second before the Maksha let out a worried breath of air, his bedside manner woefully under-rehearsed.

“Don’t tell me,” Mellasitox insisted, her voice a low whisper, as she suddenly became aware that the rest of the crew were well within earshot on the silent bridge.

“Very well, but I strongly advise heading to sickbay as soon as possible. Broken ribs rarely are no small thing.” Maksha closed the tricorder with a click.

“I said don’t tell me,” the captain chided. “Can you give me something for the pain and the nausea.”

Maksha loaded a hypospray from his small emergency medkit and pressed it to her throat. The relief was instant as a wave of cool water fell upon the lava pain in Mellasitox’s chest like someone had opened a freshwater spring at the heart of the volcano.

“This is only temporary, you need to be seen by a real doctor.” Maksha returned the hypospray to his kit, his large dark eyes piercing into the captain with a doctor’s disapproving energy.

“I thought you were a doctor?”

“Only of astrophysics, I’m afraid,” the man offered a tight smile, lending his bony face a ghoulish visage in the dim light.

A squawking chirp interrupted the pair’s discussion as the captain’s comm badge gurgled a fuzzy signal. Maksha departed with a nod as Mellasitox took to her feet, standing seemed less painful than sitting.

“Sehgali to Mellasitox.”

“How bad is it Indira?” Mellasitox slumped onto the leading edge of the nearby ops console.

“We’ve lost a couple of escape pods and most of the support systems for the starboard RCS thruster. Also…” There was an awkward pause. “… Lieutenant Maksha’s quarters.”

A quiet string of profanities in several languages rumbled from the shadows where Maksha was now focussed on the Tellarite conn officer.

“I assume by the fact you’re talking that we aren’t venting atmosphere.”

Several decks below, Commander Seghali examined a patchy blue field cautiously, it fizzled and flickered but maintained its integrity, for now.

“Emergency batteries are holding but not for long, the field is already getting spotty.”

“Without main or auxiliary power, we’re going to struggle to replicate emergency bulkheads,” Bale quietly interrupted from the shadows of the nearby operations console.

“We’ll work something out.” Mellasitox offered the young officer a weak attempt at a reassuring smile before rubbing her temples wearily. “Indira, does the damage look contained?”

“Very, I expect direct physical impact, it looks like something shot directly through the hull and out the other side.”

“Can we evacuate Deck 4?” Mellasitox turned to Bale who was already pulling schematics from her impressive memory. The young operations officer could recite bulkheads and gelpack junctions from memory, she knew things about the small ship that even the yard mechanics who birthed her would have forgotten.

“We’d lose direct access to most quarters, the main computer core, the shuttle bay and Icarus.” Bale offered a grim frown.

“Indira, start pulling everyone back to the cargo bay, let’s activate sanctuary protocols. Seal off the deck behind you. We’ll start working on strategies to get the bulkheads in place.” Mellasitox took several steps towards the centre of the bridge.

“Yes, Ma’am. There’s something else, captain. I can see the Ho’Nang through the breech. They’re not in one piece anymore.”