Victorian Space
H.M.S. New Zealand
The comm screen came alive with an emergency override message from H.M.S. Lionheart.
“New Zealand, this is Captain Eder of the Lionheart. What in Christ’s name is going on?” he asked angrily.
“You were attacked by a Dominion freighter,” Emily answered with difficulty. “We destroyed the freighter, but not before it launched one missile. We managed to knock it off course.” She felt utterly spent. As soon as it was clear that the missile had missed, the adrenalin roiling in her bloodstream made her tremble so violently that she had to sit down. Chief Gibson glanced at her solicitously, but she waived him back.
Captain Eder gaped at her. “You destroyed a Dominion freighter!”
“It was either that or let it destroy you, Captain!” Emily snapped.
Eder’s face flushed scarlet. “Who are you?” he demanded.
Emily drew herself up. “I am Second Lieutenant Emily Tuttle, temporarily in command of the New Zealand.”
Eder’s jaw worked. “And you fired on a Dominion ship?”
Emily worked her own jaw. “Captain, I don’t think you understand. It fired on you.”
“Where is Captain Grey?” he asked icily.
“Captain Grey is on Atlas.”
“Well, dammit, I’m pretty sure that she didn’t leave a Second Lieutenant in charge of a Victorian missile cruiser, so where is your superior officer?”
On the screen Emily could see an aide take Captain Eder’s elbow and thrust a report slate into his hand. Eder glanced at it irritably, looked back at Emily, but then his eyes darted back to the report.
“My superior officer is Senior Lieutenant Bishop.” She paused, then plunged on. “I had him arrested for dereliction of duty when he refused to fire on the Dominion vessel.”
Eder looked up slowly from the report slate. “Yes, Lieutenant Tuttle, I’m sure you did.” He waived the report slate in the air. “My staff tells me that the battleships Isle of Man and Invincible have both been destroyed, apparently by missile pods launched from Dominion freighters.”
On the screen the aide suddenly appeared again. He leaned down and spoke urgently into the Captain’s ear. Eder looked at him. “Has this been confirmed?” he asked sharply. The aide nodded. Eder fell back in his chair, then looked at the camera. He looked as if he had aged ten years.
“Tuttle, I think it would be a good idea if you found your Captain and got her back on board. The Palace has been hit with at least one nuclear weapon. The Queen is dead.”