HMMS Broadside

Day 322

Personal Journal Serene Falk:

Captain HMMS Broadside

  • Mission parameter – Hunting Ghosts
  • Classification Secret – Captains eyes only

In a detached moment, I thought of the first earthquake I had ever experienced. I was six years old and living on the eastern seaboard of the America’s with my Aunt when a level Seven-point eight hit. This felt the same. The same wrenching, grinding G force pain that literally wants to break you in half. Then the reverse backlash that turns everything to red static as the breath of consciousness is literally driven from your body.

As my senses falteringly rebooted I became aware of blood in my mouth, the warm iron taste threatening to make me gag. There was also something else, a warm wet sensation running down my left arm. A mild panic of alarm registered somewhere as I realised I was staring at a blood-soaked part of my own anatomy. Then searing sensation pierced the mush and forced a gasp of pain as the realisation hit me, that my arm and the side of my face had been assaulted by a metal stool that had broken free of its fixing and was now embedded in the starboard view plate. Finally returning to a cognitive level of consciousness I found it difficult at first to recognise the Bridge of the Broadside. On first glance it looked like the intestines of some giant animal as electrical cables swung and sparked in the vitreous fluid of the Bio Computing artery’s and just about everything looked broken. The crew were by and large moving, and some were trying to get systems back on line. Although many like myself had sustained injury and some unfortunate souls were silent. Cam Sheck being the most obvious, his face upturned, eyes staring at nothing. His body broken backwards over the science terminal he loved so much.

In the following confusion someone bandaged the gash in my arm and applied a flexible splint to support what I assumed was a fracture. As for the injury to my head. Even in the twenty second century all that could be done was mop to me up and shoot me full of Autonomous Micropaire that would reduce the pain and start to repair any areas of damage. AM was clever stuff but uncomfortable as hell as it knitted and re-arranged your innards back to its optimum gene pattern.

In line with my returning capability the Broadside also brought herself back online and a grim picture began to emerge regarding her status. It’s safe to say that unlike earlier vessels the Broadside and her sister cohorts were a long way removed from the bolted together components of the previous era. She was, as far as possible a fully integrated vessel and classified as a living sentient organism housed in slick exo shell of amour engines and weaponry. Myself and the crew were a symbiotic part of this organism and although not as deeply integrated as say the Nav Ai’s each crew member to some extent felt and experienced what the Broadside was feeling. So, alongside the fact that each of us had been physically impacted by the torpedo we were also very aware of the Broadsides pain.


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