The scars on the colony were fresh, and the blood spilled across the dirt still smelled faintly of sour iron. It had ignited Captain Leopold Halsey’s fury, and his shoulders remained tensed as he oversaw the central command center on the Edwards Colony. Ten hours ago, the Network had struck in an avalanche of weapons fire from above. The smash and grab had followed during the chaos. Precious energy resources, food stores, tools, and engineering equipment had vanished in the orange light of the Network’s transporters.
Halsey worked the mobile console as reports of more injured crossed his screens as the various teams from Mackenzie, Denver, and Olympic scoured the primary and outlying colonies. The Mackenzie Heavy Cruiser Division had nearly flown the three division ships apart to get here three hours ago. He’d reached out to Wren Walton before they arrived. She’d read the same reports, listened to the same desperate hails, messages, and updates. Walton had ordered every engineering red line tested and pushed.
“Leo.” He glanced up, the voice of his Executive Officer, Jordan Reid, breaking into his concentration. Her face told the story he’d been getting from every other senior officer and team lead. Nothing good was coming out of this attack.
He evened his breathing and accepted the offered PADD. “How bad?” He had tried to keep the questions positive early, but he’d given up within the first hour.
She ran it down from memory, shuddering at the numbers. “Over on Eastside, twenty dead. That’s a third of that town’s population. Northside: fifteen dead. Southside, ten dead, but that’s only because someone got crafty with makeshift weapons. They took a few Network people with them. We’re still working on the other side of the planet. Initial scans show not much interested them over there, so they hit the main points.”
Halsey grimaced, signing off on her report and handing it back to her. “Walton’s working with Hale to see if we can trace where they went.” He shook his head as Reid’s look echoed what he knew, despite his hope. “I know. Selene Voss has taken things to a new level with her operations. I don’t know who her engineering supplier is or was…but we’ll find ‘em.”
Jordan shook her head in reply, morose the best approximation Halsey could estimate of what the look on her face said. She grumbled, “We’re going to get tired of cleaning up after her, Leo. If she does what Montana Station thinks she’s going to do, we’re going to burn out on this whole rescue part of our job description quickly.” Halsey had read the same reports and sat in the meetings. Voss was making headlines nobody wanted to keep reading about every day.
“It’s our duty, Jordan. Humanitarian work doesn’t come with a phaser in the holster. We got our hands full healing and helping.”
Reid groused, “I know, I know.” She tapped the PADD against her leg as she stood, watching the growing groups of teams scramble from place to place as the reports from the field continued to pour in. “I think I got used to working on ships that could punch back.”
Halsey nodded, sympathetic. “I understand. There’s a little cowboy diplomacy in all of us, Jordan. We just have to have a little Sisko, Sulu or Picard in us to balance it out.”
Reid cocked her eyebrows. “Where does Kirk fit into all that?”
Leo chuckled, “He was in his own category.”
