Scout commands were granted wide latitude on independent missions like this one. Preliminary reports were already on the way, courtesy of compressed log notes via the tanglenet. Slow, for certain values of FTL communication- much too slow for decent voice, but sufficient for sending terse, pre-planned codes. Receiving rate was much higher, as the sending units on large vessels were much more powerful. They could, technically, send real-time voice. But in practice, the system was almost always split between multiple outgoing data streams. Admiral Garns wasn't one to micromanage his people, though. Nor was Captain (Scouts) Rikardson- the very same man who, as a Lieutenant, recruited Everts and a good many others.
“Boarding team reacquired, sir.” Ensign Liu doubled as the ship’s communications officer as well as its pilot. Small ships could only support so many crew, so everyone had to learn to wear many hats. It did not help that the fleet was constantly short of officers, either.
“Thank you, Ensign. Tell the good sergeant we will likely be needing his men again soon. Have the Archives send us what they've got on an Old Terran ship 'Courageous.' Then let us see what sensors can tell us.” The ship shuddered as the boarding shuttle jacked back down into the hull, sealing with a heavy CLANK. From the outside it would appear little different from the rest of the angular hull, its plating just as thick on the forward and dorsal sides.
“Sensor batteries charged, sir. Ready to fire on your mark.” Active radiation, from old fashioned radar to gravimetric and quantum ghost sensing equipment, was the scouts' bread and butter. But it was dangerous, at least in normal circumstances. A scout going active was 'bright' to passive sensors. Like those found on missile heads. Nothing in space was hidden, unless blocked by a planet or the like. But the deep black was huge, and unless you were looking in the right place at the right time, you could still miss something.
Active scanning flooded local space with multi-band radiation, lighting up anything and everything in range. It took time for sensors to refine the chaos of battle, time that might mean things slipped by. Again, little things- like missiles. But once that process was completely underway, and the powerful intelligent systems got to work paring down the noise, every whisker twitch would stand out like a candle in a dark room.
“Fire.”
The basso shockwave that rattled the deck and accompanying lash of power did attract attention. This time, ensign Liu was already on the ball, twisting the ship away at the speed of thought. Evert's eyes flicked to the plot as near real time data flowed in. His stomach dropped. Massive railguns were firing, deep in the debris field. Lasers stabbed out, igniting shattered hulls and sending them tumbling wildly.
Celerity sped and danced through the firestorm, avoiding what she could. Liu was fully immersed in the scout ship, her trained muscle memory firing thrusters and main engine pulses, desperately darting, twisting and spinning. But no amount of skill, no speed could save her from everything. Gigawatt lasers clawed at her shields as bits of tumbling scrap gouged her hull. Suddenly a massive, U-shaped block of blackened metal highlighted in her enhanced vision. She dove towards it without question.
In fleet level actions, a scout had but one ploy to survive once she pulsed her active sensors. Find something big and tough- and hide behind it. Broken frigates, shattered moons, nickel-iron asteroids, pretty much anything with the mass to stop a missile or railgun slug would work. Scout ships were not meant fight it out with anything. In most fleet actions, they were too tiny to matter much either way. But incoming fire did not discriminate. The scouts had but one other advantage- speed. Speed to get away, to duck, dodge, and avoid until they were, relatively, safe.
Sometimes, it even worked.