Fatal Containment

Fatal Containment - Chapter 31

Chapter 31

The shuttle's engines hummed to a stop as it settled into its docking cradle on the Dominion. The bay doors closed behind them, sealing off the void of space. Captain Owen Cantrell and Commander Connor Leary stepped out of the shuttle, their boots echoing a synchronous rhythm as both men walked side by side towards the yellow disembarking line. Regulations required that they stop, face aft, and salute the imperial flag as a sign of respect and protocol. But today, they did neither. They walked past the line, their faces set in grim determination.

The marines waiting to greet them looked on in shock. The captain and the commander, two of the highest-ranking officers on the ship, had just broken protocol. It was unheard of.

As they passed the marines, Captain Cantrell turned to the nearest man. "Sergeant Klaust is to be confined to the brig. Effective immediately."

The marine's eyes widened in surprise as he looked at the disheveled appearance of every member of the away party, but he didn't argue. He snapped to attention signaled two men as he rushed to obey the captain's orders.

Madison Spinoza stopped in front of Connor to examine his blood-soaked uniform, but Connor didn't even slow down. She signaled her medics to follow the commander as he and the captain entered the cargo elevator and ascended into the main body of the ship.

The marine standing duty whispered quietly, "welcome aboard, sirs."

* * *

As the medics followed the officers to the bridge, they cut off Connor's uniform top and applied triage bandage to his mid-section while the XO continued to bark orders to the senior bridge officers. Dr. Spinoza knew that Connor would either come to sickbay to have his injuries treated properly when the current crisis was over, or he would pass out and be carried there. At least she could ensure that the blood loss was temporarily abated and the proper emergency antiseptics were applied.

The Dominion's bridge was a flurry of search and rescue (SAR) activity. The main screen was filled with a star map, with concentric circles showing search areas. Senior Chief Larson, the coordinating scan officer, was continuously conveying information to the CIC to update the primary screen on the bridge along with the search grids in each department. The search pattern was determined by the last known position of the shuttle, the area of space, its conditions, and the shuttle's size, amount of primary and reserve fuel, and more.

Captain Owen Cantrell stood scanning the star map. His face was a mask of concentration, his mind conjuring up answers from the data. He was a man on a new mission, and he would not rest until Cheryl was found.

Beside him, Connor was directing the coordination efforts. His fingers flew over the control panel, adjusting the search parameters, refining the data. He was determined to find their science officer, to bring her back safely.

Owen looked around at his bridge crew. They knew their jobs. They had drilled mercilessly until they were a single, cohesive unit. He turned to look at Connor Leary, coordinating with the SAR personnel to ensure that everything was checked and checked again, no stone left unturned. Owen found himself finally looking at Connor for the first time, seeing a first officer that was organized, efficient, and commanded the respect of those around him—everyone except Owen.

Suddenly, a distress signal chirped on the Dominion's emergency channel.

The communication officer routed it immediately through cryptography, then to the primary circuit for the bridge. The sound cut through the activity of the bridge like a knife as everyone froze. Owen and Connor exchanged glances, and Owen signaled for the message to be displayed on the main viewer.

"Bring it up," Owen ordered, his voice steady.

Larson quickly complied, and the distress signal filled the bridge. It was weak, but unmistakable. It was Cheryl.

"Captain Cantrell," she began, "I regret that I am having to use the unsecured research computer network for this message, but it was out of necessity. I'm actually routing this through New Cairo using an A.I. protocol named Cowl."

Several members of the bridge looked at each other in confusion. New Cairo? The captain's focus was on Cheryl and her message.

"It seems Tyrell Sanders has had a change of heart and our shuttle was commandeered and taken to the coordinates I am sending. Be aware captain that they have several destroyer class vessels and are prepared to defend Tyrell in order to extract the communication technology from him willingly or otherwise. I'm sorry I don't have more information at this time."

She looked over at something off screen and rushed to press several buttons on the tablet she held.

"If I've assembled this message protocol correctly, I'm bouncing it from New Cairo, back to the tablet in Sandy's cabin and then into the ship's emergency beacon directly. This message is in real time."

Captain Cantrell turned to look at Connor. "Sir, we have the coordinates"

"Flank speed, Mr. Jones. I want us there as soon as can be. Yesterday is preferred."

"Aye Aye," the coxswain answered and sent the signal to engineering to engage all available speed. The Dominion accelerated to its top speed as they began closing the distance to where Cheryl was being held against her will. The ships alarms began to wail as the XO upgraded their status to condition Zulu and sounded General Quarters.

Owen squared his shoulders in his command chair and looked directly at Cheryl. "We're going to need a bit of subterfuge, lieutenant. Listed very carefully to these instructions."