Battleship Trafalgar

Mellotte II

All hands were on the bridge of the Trafalgar as they prepared to disembark. Harding was in central centralposition in her command chair. Chase stood just behind her.

“All hands report ready,” Wokoma stated from the helm.

“Then, by all means, take us out,” ordered Harding.

Chase looked at Mellotte II on the forward viewport. The large urban world was covered with surface lights from the continent-spanning city below. He was disappointed that a replacement ship had not been assigned to guard the capital world whilst they were away, especially given their odds of returning. It was an emotional reaction; he knew. He had seen the reports and knew the fleet movements—they simply didn’t have the numbers. Chase and his crew were just going to To Have tohave to find a way to make this work.

The vibrations increased in the deck plating as the ship’s conventional engine powered up, and they began accelerating out of the system.

“Stand by for FTL,” announced Wokoma.

Chase found his left hand gripping the bridge rail as he momentarily jerked backwards before the inertial dampers kicked in. The view out the front shifted from Starfield to an abstract pattern of other-dimensional blues and purples as they moved into hyperspace.

“Good work, Wokoma,” Harding said.

“Thank you, Captain.”

Harding turned and looked at Chase. “Same para - change She for HardingCommander, I believe you are now off duty. That goes for you too, Wokoma.”

The express elevator opened, and the next shift entered the bridge, taking up positions and relieving their counterparts. Chase stepped into the lift and waited a moment for Wokoma to catch up.

“Where are you headed?” she asked.

“I was about to grab dinner,” replied Chase.

***

The mess hall was as busy as usual As busy as usualafter shift change. The large windows looked out over the bizarre, otherworldly view of hyperspace. It had a lilac hue and was similar in some ways to clouds or the deep sea—Chase could never quite place it. They walked past one of the larger tables where Dryden was holding court over a group of off-duty engineers and made his way to the far end, where Winter was halfway through a piece of roast chicken.

“You beat me to it,” Chase said.

“I wanted to get these before the galley ran out,” replied Winter with a sly grin. I would add something like ‘with a smirk’

“Winter, you’re not typically a foodie,” Chase said. There was a large jug of water on the table. Chase lifted it up, breaking the magnetic clip, and poured himself a glass, offering one to Winter.

“Not usually,” Winter agreed, “but I wanted to go all out for my last meal.”

Wokoma looked at her, scandalised.

“Don’t say that! We’re going to pull this thing off,” said Chase, trying to sound like he believed it.

“I mean, I hope we do,” said Winter. “Don’t get me wrong, but come on. This is not gonna be easy.”

“We’re going to be asked to do a lot of difficult things,” said Chase. “It won’t be the last time.”

“But it might be,” said Winter. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

“You’ve been in battle before,” said Chase as he typed his order into the table’s menu interface.

“Never one like this,” Winter replied.

“No need to be defeatist,” said Comma, lower caseWokoma. “Please.”

Winter swallowed her bite and shrugged.

“I’ve never known an entire fleet to be decimated in a matter of hours. This is different.”

Chase knew she was right. Looking around the mess hall, she wasn’t the only one putting on a brave face. He liked to think he was reasonably confident they would make it back in one piece. Chase certainly had his moments of doubt and just and justsaying everything would be fine would not cut it.

“Look, you might well be right,” he said.

“Great pep talk.” Who says this? If Wokoma needs to be straight after last lineSaid Wokoma looking at him as if he’d gone insane.

“We’re not doing this because it’s easy,” Chase continued “We’re doing it because they know we’re the most likely to pull it off, and we’re damn well going to give it our best shot.”

“That’s all right,” said Winter sarcastically. “I feel really motivated. Let’s kick some arse.” She chopped up a roast potato. Mellotte II had been a great posting for receiving fresh food—they would be on synthesised produce and ration packs from here on out.

“I’m not saying you have to like it,” said Chase, “but we might yet win this.” Chase noticed a lot of heads moving as the mess hall doors opened. He glanced over to see Harding walkwalk in. That was odd—she was supposed to be on the bridge. He got to his feet and walked over.

“Captain,” he said. “Is something wrong?”

Harding looked at him. She was deep in thought until he broke her out of it.

“What?” she asked. “No, everything is fine. I’m just walking the ship.”

“You’re walking the ship, Captain?” Chase confirmed, confused.

“It used to be a tradition,” Harding explained. “The commander walking their ship before taking her into battle. Nelson did it at Trafalgar.”

It took Chase a moment. “OfSame para course, Captain,” he said.

Harding looked around the room. The crew, seeing no cause for alarm, had gone back to what they were doing.

“How are they all?” Harding asked him. She hadn’t been the type of commander to focus on the crew’s morale. Chase saw this as one of her weaknesses in the chair. He was glad to see she was trying now.

“There’s a lot of concern,” he said. “We’ve had dangerous missions before, but this feels different somehow.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Harding concurred. “I’m trying to keep people motivated, but” she lowered her voice to a whisper “there’s a strong sense that we’re not coming back from this one.”Cough - she said this in the mess hall - mutiny I say Harding snapped out of her hermalaise and looked him straight in the eye.

“I’ve told Admiral Harris to expect Trafalgar at Mellotte II at 12:00 hours on Wednesday, and I intend to keep that appointment.”

Chase didn’t know if this was unbridled optimism or a different type of fatalism. Even if everything went like clockwork, that would still be a tight deadline. Right now, he was just relieved to have one less person to motivate.

“Very good, Captain,” he replied. “I’ll see the crew get it done.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Thank you, Mr Chase. I know I can rely on you. Now, I’m going to take a look at our engine room. I understand the new hyperdrive is purring like a kitten.”

Harding made her exit, and Chase went back to his table. Wokoma had also ordered the chicken and was digging into her own dinner. He noticed he was missing a corn on the cob.

“The Captain has assured me we’ll have this done and be back by Wednesday afternoon.”

“I mean, I knew she was mad,” said Winter. “Chase, was that meant to be inspiring?” Chase As this is sandwiched between two Winter comments same parajust met her gaze. “Fine. We’ll succeed at the mission,” said Winter defiantly.

“You damn right we will,” said Chase. “You can die heroically on your own time,” he said with a smile, and dug into his dinner. Damn, he was going to miss this whilst surviving on rations. “Same paraWe can win this thing,” he told them. “The hostiles are gonna rue the day they attacked this planet and brought us down on them. And if we should fail—if—then we will burn out with a legend so bright that for generations to come, they will remember the battleship Trafalgar like no other. You understand?” he said.

“Yes, Commander,” said Wokoma and Winter in unison.

Chase looked around and realised he had caught the attention of half the mess hall.

“Well then,” he said. “Good.” And he helped himself to some more gravy.

Chase returned to his quarters. The room was divided between a sleeping compartment with a reasonable single bed and a lounge area with a desk, where Chase could carry out the administrative tasks that came with being the executive officer. They were on the deck above the room he had used whilst he had been in temporary command of the ship, after he had recovered it from the Pulsar Sky system. It was slightly roomier but nowhere near as large as the captain’s suite several doors down.

Sitting at the desk, he activated the comms unit and prepared himself to do something he had been putting off since the mission was announced he began recording a message home to his parents. He had spoken to them briefly after the destruction of the shipyard at Caelus IV, but he hadn’t since. The crew had not been issued leave to visit the surface of Mellotte II whilst they were there, and now that the mission was underway, there was a general comms blackout. He couldn’t get a live signal but could record a message that would bounce around the naval relays until the point of origin was satisfactorily disguised.

Chase stared at the face on the screen now looking back at him and realised he looked tired. He knew he had to keep his crew’s morale up, but it was taking its toll on him. If he didn’t at least partially think they were right with their fatalism, he knew he probably wouldn’t be recording this message now.

“Hi Mum and Dad,” he said. “I’m on a mission,” and he paused, realising he couldn’t tell them anything about it. He dropped that train of thought. “Look, I know you have been worried since what happened to the fleet...” He paused. The computer analysed the recording and placed a seamless edit, removing the awkward pause.

“I don’t want you to worry,” he told them. “Many people on board are worried—” There was a bleep, and he realised that the ship’s computer was automatically censoring any outgoing message on civilian channels. He could tell them the whole mission plan. He could tell them it was a guaranteed failure, and they would hear none of it. Chase sighed.

“Look, I’m doing a dangerous job,” he said, pausing, expecting the computer to remove that as well, but apparently, it left it in. “But I promise you I’m doing everything I can to stay safe. I’m not taking any unnecessary risks.” He thought about that for a moment—there had been a couple. Testing the jump drive himself, going to cave systems beneath unexplored planets, maybe wasn’t strictly true. But the computer wasn’t the only one censoring certain facts.

“I hope everything is all right with you guys,” Chase continued. “Its uncertain times, but try to keep calm and remember I love you.” He forced a smile.

He clicked off the recording and cycled back to the end of the video. He tapped a few keys. The lacklustre smile at the end of the video was replaced with a larger, more convincing one. He removed it and replaced it a few times before deciding to leave it, and clicked send.

At the side of the screen, he saw the mission clock was now in its fourth hour. They were almost in range. He changed into a fresh uniform and made his way up to the bridge.

He stepped out onto the Trafalgar’s command deck. Harding was there already.

“Ah, Commander,” she said. “I was just about to have you called up here. Excellent timing.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Chase replied.

“Wokoma. Throw up the tactical display,” Harding ordered and the hologram at the centre of the bridge activated. It had been upgraded when the Trafalgar was renovated, replacing the pixelated dots with much more legible 3D imagery. It no longer cut out and refreshed every few minutes either.

“There’s no signal yet at this range,” Wokoma reported.

“Distance?” Harding requested.

“One hundred and fifty AU,” Wokoma confirmed.

“Let’s bring us out of hyperspace,” Harding ordered. “I want to approach the system at sub-light speed, nice and slow.”

“Very good, Captain,” replied Wokoma, and the bright clouds of hyperspace were replaced in the forward viewports with the black night of space.

Whilst it was a much slower way of travel, Chase found it more comfortable than the nausea of the jump drive. He moved over to the hologram, and stood next to Harding in the centre of the bridge.

The enemy outpost appeared a moment later, along with the planet it orbited and the nearest star. There were several other uninhabited planets and asteroids also in the system.

“This is the long-range sensor feed,” said Wokoma. “It matches the earlier probe’s telemetry, but we can’t get entirely accurate readings at this range.”

“Launch another probe,” said Harding. “Bring it here.” She raised her right hand and pointed at a spot three AUs from the outpost. “I want it to scan, a complete scan, and then self-destruct.”

“Very good, Captain.” Wokoma walked over to the science station, leaning over the officer’s shoulder and adding the conditions.

“Probe away,” Wokoma confirmed a moment later. A blue dot was added to the holographic display as the probe entered the system. Trafalgar held position whilst they waited.