Mazzareli looks at me with confusion, “what brings you here, ensign? I was told by Sub-Lieutenant Trachenberg that you were taking command of the bridge?”
“Well, I did assume command for a while,” I say while wiping away some of my tears. To my surprise my tone still sounds a bit shaky, “but I temporarily handed over command to a warrant officer named Casavant. There… wasn’t much for me to do, and I felt there was better urgency to fetch you and situated.”
“Fetch me?” Mazzareli exchanges glances with Prince, and steps away from the body of Buttermilch towards me, “what was so urgent that you needed to see me?”
With deep breaths, I walk past the lieutenant commander and towards the bedside of Buttermilch. His eyes are closed, and he looks more relaxed than before. It’s the most peaceful state I’ve ever seen him in, “I was going to inform you of…,” I clear my throat, looking away from the body towards Mazzareli, “…the commander’s death, but I guess you already found out about it yourself.” I wonder how Friederika didn’t know? Was the body covered up? “If I may ask, how much did Kiki— Sub-Lieutenant Trachenbergtell you what happened, for, er… lack of a better wording?”
Mazzareli rubs his neck, “yes… well, I only found out about it just now. She informed me he was in critical condition… I never figured he would succumb to his wounds,” I wince a little; Buttermilch is dead, yes, but it’s not in the way Mazzareli would expect. When I glance over at some of the doctors our eyes lock before they avert eyes. Would it be alright for him to believe it played out like that? “She also mentioned how you assumed command for the time being and got us through the enemy safety,” he pauses “while I think it was a risky choice of how you achieved it, your choice nonetheless saved the fleet.”
“I can only imagine how much of a difficult time that must have been for you… for anyone that could’ve been in your shoes, really—you were brave, Victoria” Mazzareli approaches me from behind and gives me a gentle hug, “you did an admirable job, Victoria. If Buttermilch had survived, I have no doubt he would say the same thing. Just the fact that you or I can stand here is a testament to that.”
“Th…thank you, sir, that means a lot to me,” I reply quietly, trying not to get emotional again. We spend the rest of our time in the medical bay without another word. Before the lieutenant and the lieutenant commander could leave, they needed one last checkup by the doctors, and after that was done the three of us paid respects to the covered-up Buttermilch and left for the bridge.
Friederika was nowhere in sight when we left the medical bay. Perhaps she has gone ahead to the bridge?
Although we were in no particular hurry, the three of us were walking briskly alongside the conveyor floor before Mazzareli spoke up, ”you said you handed over authority to Warrant Officer Casavant?” He asks and I nod my head in silence “I understand that you didn’t have anything to do, but is there a particular reason why you did not send him, or anyone else for that matter, to check in on me and Lieutenant Prince?”
What an odd thing to ask but I guess it’s a valid question, “er… it helps build character?” I remark— appointing Casavant was more of a whimsical decision, “I couldn’t stomach being around in the bridge for much longer—I needed some, er, fresh air,” I say offhandedly. Prince can’t help but scoff.
“I see… Buttermilch was contemplating recommending him for a promotion someday—Casavant is a good man. I think you made a good decision there too—but that aside, did the pirate fleet not pursue us?”
“No, sir, um… as a matter of fact, I stand reason to believe they went over our Ides detachment,” Mazzareli and Prince stop and I initially pass them before realizing it. Prince and Mazzareli exchange concerned glances. They ask me to repeat myself, which I comply with. Mazzareli’s brow inclines.
“Where is this fleet heading, ensign?”
“I felt it was reasonable… to head for Commodore Chal. It was the best course of action for us—if we headed for our other allies, we could’ve faced immediate danger given our circumstances. A good number of our fleet is not in the ideal condition for combat operations,” I huff air through my nose “if the Madame sought to attack us… I don’t think we could even put up a good fight, or out-pace them. Most of our ships are undergoing maintenance and that has slowed us down considerably. We should’ve reached the commodore by now, but…”
“It’s not something that could be helped, then… did you manage to establish communications with the Commodore or the commander of the Ides fleet?” Mazzareli asks, and I shake my head.
“With the Ides fleet, we’ve been trying… but to no avail. I ended up permitting a few squadrons who wanted authorization to link up with them and give the pirates some resistance until we can formulate a better plan with you and the commodore. But…
“I lost contact with the squadrons not long after. I think the Scarfacemust’ve destroyed them already. I had a few of my staff suggest we send some shuttles to investigate, but I declined their suggestions. Based on our radar scans, I can’t rule out they’ve all been wiped out,” I finish wincing several times.
“And if that happened…” Prince is the one to speak up “the flotilla as a whole will be in a dire situation—Ensign Happ-Schwarzenberger,” his formal addressing of me causes me to stiffen up “we should be close enough now that we can establish communications with the commodore, no?”
“I believe so… I did tell Casavant to try to establish relations if he can. If he had done so already, I think he would’ve announced over the speakers, or sent someone to retrieve us. He likely had just about as much luck as I did reaching out to the commodore’s fleet.”
We resume walking towards the bridge. Mazzareli clears his throat, “since you mentioned the ships undergoing repairs have slowed us down, just how fast is the fleet heading for Commodore Chal?”
“Umm… at a steady knot—at our normal speed we would’ve probably joined the fleet by now, but… it probably won’t be for another hour or so, in which case…”
Mazzareli stops in his tracks, and Prince and I stop as well, “if we are to believe the pirate fleet has destroyed our Ides detachment,” Mazzareli starts, “it could mean that the pirates wasted no time in marching to the Baltit by now,” he looks up at Prince and me, “it’s possible the commodore may be engaging the Scarface as we speak.”
Before Prince or I can respond, that dreadful sound I never wanted to hear again begins ringing in my ears: the announcement indicating battle-stations. My chest tightens with anxiety as I look over at my two superiors; fear.
Once we reached the bridge we sought Casavant, who sat in the commander’s chair deep in thought. Upon noticing us, Casavant springs to his feet and orders the bridge to salute us—which is executed in pitch-perfect unison. Afterward, he formally transfers command over to Mazzareli, “Ensign Happ-Schwarzenberger, Lieutenant Plotte, Lieutenant Commander Mazzareli—so nice of you to join us. Just a few minutes ago, I finally managed to reestablish communications with the commodore, and it’s not great.”
“Out with it,” the lieutenant commander retorts, I look down at his hand which is balled into a shaking, sweaty fist.
“About twenty minutes ago,” Casavant starts, “the fleet under Commodore Chal has been caught off-guard by what they describe as a phantom pirate force—one they identified as being led by the Madame Scarface,” a shortness of breath as I struggle to remain upright.
Only one thought crosses my mind: they couldn’t stop the Scarface.
“D-did… did they report any survivors from the Ides detachment?” Mazzareli asks, trying to remain composed. We all wait with bated breath as Casavant’s eyes close in contemplation. He lets out a deep inhale—and then a long deflate through his nostrils. The young, tired-looking warrant named Casavant slips off his garrison cap and runs a hand through dark curly hair.
“Commodore Chal… assessed that all but around thirty ships survived theScarface’s ambush.” My head gets dizzy. I have to shift my weight onto a nearby table to keep myself balanced—their efforts were in vain. There are murmurs throughout the bridge, and I look up to see Mazzareli and Prince pale in color. Is there anything we can do to stop the Scarface? Or is it too late now?
“If we don’t make it in time, the siege will collapse. The commodore will be overrun!” Mazzareli says angrily, and turns to address the whole bridge, “I’m ordering the fleet to march at full speed to Side Baltit!” Despite the acknowledgments from the bridge staff, Casavant and I exchange glances.
Casavant gives a loud clear of his throat, and Mazzareli turns back to face him, “Sir! What about the ships undergoing repairs? We won’t be able to get all their crews stationed in time, and shift into combat formations at that…”
An idea. An idea pops into mind—it’s so outrageous, but it may just work.
“You’re right… it will cost us precious time to reorganize the fleet into formation. Hmm… leaving ships behind could bolster the pirate fleet’s numbers…” Mazzareli strokes his chin, biting down on his index finger “we may have no choice but to scuttle them… perhaps siphon the fuel from them?… I retract that order—get all the remaining crew out of the damaged ships and…”
“—M-Mazzareli!” I utter. Mazzareli, an annoyed Prince—and all the eyes are trained on me, “I-I have a p-proposal…” I hesitate, taking a deep breath to give myself a moment to think, “—a plan that’ll… I think it will cost us only minimal losses. A plan that’ll defeat the Madame.”
