He was still messing with range settings when the high-pitched stutter of the collision alarm shattered the euphoria on the Michaelson. Paul stared at his display as the Michaelson 's systems added verbal warnings. "Multiple objects on collision courses. Recommend immediate engagement of all objects on collision courses." A debris field had suddenly appeared, spreading out at high speed from the Maury. It only took Paul a moment to realize the debris was too close and moving too fast for the Michaelson to hope to evade it.
The general quarters alarm sounded, overriding the collision alarm, its repeated bongs reverberating through the ship and spurring everyone in the crew into immediate, trained responses. "General Quarters! General Quarters! All personnel to battle stations. Seal all air-tight bulkheads. All personnel don survival suits and brace for multiple impacts."
A babble of voices sprung into life on the comm circuits, then Captain Hayes' voice overrode the rest. "Silence on the circuit! Combat, can you identify any of that debris? Are there any sailors in there?"
Paul looked toward Chief Imari, who quickly scanned her own displays even as she shook her head. "Sir, there's not enough time, and there's too much junk messing up our picture." Her face twitched. "Besides, sir, if any sailor hits us at the speed that stuff is moving, even a survival suit wouldn't save 'em."
"Yeah. Thanks, Chief." Paul's brain was working on automatic, responding to all the training and experience he'd had so far. Emotions hadn't come into play, yet, and Paul didn't particularly want any emotions warring with the advice he knew he had to give. "Captain, this is Combat. No ID of individual debris items possible within time constraints. Assess chance of survival of any personnel on collision course with us as nil."
The briefest pause followed. "Understand. All combat systems, engage any object on collision course with this ship."
Paul tapped his communications circuit. "Chief, make sure we're double-checking combat systems' choices of highest priority targets." Sometimes the computers would fixate on the wrong object or objects, blazing away at them while more dangerous things were left unengaged. On Paul's visual display, nothing could be seen but a twinkling of bright objects and a glowing cloud obscuring the view of the dim shape of the USS Maury. The Michaelson 's lasers and particle beams firing at the oncoming debris hurled shots invisible to the naked eye as they tried to divert the objects, blow them to dust, or at least shatter them into smaller fragments traveling at lower relative velocity to the Michaelson. Paul knew the weapons were firing from the subsonic hums that marked discharges of energy, from the occasional dimming of lights on non-critical circuits as weapons recharged, and from the symbols on his other displays, where objects headed for the Michaelson were vanishing or fragmenting. As Paul watched, a symbol representing a large object broke into a half dozen smaller pieces, most of them heading off at angles to their original path. He wondered what the object had been, which small part of the Maury it had once represented.
Paul finished sealing his survival suit, then hurriedly checked his personnel. "Is everyone in Combat suited up?"
Chief Imari gave a thumbs up. "Yes, sir. Any idea what the hell happened, sir?"
"I don't know, Chief. I haven't heard anything."
"At least the Maury 's still there. Part of her, anyway."
Paul hadn't thought about that, caught up in responding to the immediate crisis. Hadn't thought about where the debris had come from, hadn't thought about what its sudden appearance implied. An explosion on the Maury. Has to be. A big one, from all that debris. He focused back on the symbol for the Maury. Her navigational beacon had stopped operating. Instead, the Maury had been tagged with a blinking red warning that the ship's emergency distress beacon had lit off. The Maury 's course had altered as well, shoved off to the side by some blow to her. How big was that explosion? Where was it on the Maury? Jen. Please be all right.
Debris began impacting on the Michaelson 's hull, mostly tiny particles but still traveling fast enough to damage even the extremely tough materials in the outer and inner hulls. Warnings flashed on Paul's display as sensors were destroyed by impacts, their functions immediately and automatically shifted to whichever other sensor could try to cover the same area. Paul imagined he could feel the Michaelson quiver from all the tiny impacts, though he shouldn't have actually been able to notice.
"Lost some water cells," Chief Imari reported.
Paul nodded. He saw the warnings appear, as small clouds of water vapor puffed out from the Michaelson. The water-filled inner hull was designed in part to do exactly that, absorb the heat and other energy of anything hitting the ship. Something big enough to rupture those cells had made it through the defensive barrage of the Michaelson 's weapons.
The glowing cloud around the Maury expanded rapidly, dimming as it did so. "We've got gases headed for us, too," Chief Imari noted. "By the time it gets here it shouldn't be dense enough to hurt us, though."
Paul checked his own data, where the Michaelson 's systems had already automatically analyzed the composition of the cloud. Vaporized water from the Maury's inner hull. Oxygen and other gases from shattered compartments. Various chemical vapors. Trace elements. Carbon. Carbon? Oh, no. One likely source of that carbon had to be human bodies, blown into ashes by the explosion.
The Michaelson trembled as the wave of gases reached her then swept on past. Without those gases blocking the view, the Maury could be seen much better.
"Jesus Christ," somebody muttered, sounding more like a prayer than profanity.
The Maury 's mid-section looked as if something huge had taken bites out of it. Paul increased the magnification on his visual display. The bites became holes with ragged edges, where something had blasted through the Maury 's inner and outer hulls. Paul could vaguely make out the areas surrounding the holes, where structural members and internal materials were ripped and twisted. It's like looking at a human with his guts torn open. Exactly where'd the damage hit the worst? The Maury was the Michaelson 's sister ship, so she had the same general layout. Most of the forward section looks intact. Maybe half the ship. There's a section right at the stern that doesn't look beat up too badly. What would've been located in the parts of the Maury that've been torn up? That'd be… no. Please, no.
A voice over the command circuit confirmed Paul's conclusion and his fears. "Captain, it looks like at least one of Maury 's engineering compartments blew." Commander Destin, the Michaelson 's Chief Engineer, sounded as if she couldn't quite believe it. "Probably both."
Captain Hayes' voice over the same circuit carried more than a hint of shock. "Blew up? An engineering compartment? How could that happen?"
"I don't know, sir. It'd require an awful lot of equipment and software to fail simultaneously, and a lot of people to miss warning signs. But those holes are where the Maury 's engineering compartments are."
Captain Hayes' voice sounded flat and emotionless. "Where they were, you mean."
"Yes, sir. From what we can tell, Maury 's lost all power. I recommend we get as many people as we can over there to assist."
"Do we have any communications with the Maury?"
"No, Captain," Commander Garcia came on line, his answer blunt. "I'm in comms. We're picking up nothing but the emergency beacon's automated distress call. There's no telling what effect the shock from that explosion and its fragmentation effects had inside the Maury 's hull."
"Very well. How many damage control teams can the gig hold?"