Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: PROTECT (04/16/20)
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TITLE: The Protector | Previous Challenge Entry
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04/22/20 -
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Beginning at Shaft One, she recorded data particulars into her palmfile. She couldn’t ditch responsibilities because Jimmy’s school advisor demanded a meeting. No doubt, Ms. Renald intended calling her on the deck for Jimmy’s antics yesterday involving unauthorized ship-wide school newscasts. Her cheeks heated, and her suit puffed cold air. Her husband had always attended advisor meetings. Laden earned A’s at soothing charred tempers. She struggled at chilling hers.
Taelor let her palmfile float on its tether. Ship Council's decision to strip her rank as their military’s highest field leader stung. As First Warrior, she'd failed to prevent the massacre of Forward's embassy. Rebelling against Ms. Renald’s summons wouldn’t change anything—or bring Laden back. Lord, help me accept—
—Taelor crashed to the floor.
Alpha corridor had gained gravity without warning. Forward’s klaxons clanged. Battle lighting dimmed the hall. Echoes of explosions jacked her senses into orbit. She rolled onto her feet.
“Command—Supervisor Taelor reporting.” Static crackled in her helmet’s comms. “Command—Respond.”
A voice sputtered over her helmet’s internal comms.
“Taelor! It’s Cleaner Dyana. I’m stuck in Shaft Sixteen.”
Moving to the shaft, Taelor swung the hatch wide, and Dyana tumbled out.
“The marauders—the ones you described at trial--one minute, clear space. The next—”
“A ship big as the Belt un-ghosted?” Taelor said, and Dyana nodded.
Jimmy was in Science one deck up, and yet, her protector's DNA clawed to the fore. She had escaped after the embassy’s massacre, and now she understood why: looked as though she’d led the rats straight home.
The battle wasn’t lost—not yet. She could save Forward’s 25,000 lives, including Jimmy’s. Because she, the lone survivor, anticipated the vermin’s next move.
Decision made, she flung pieces of gear onto the deck.
“What’er you doing?” Dyana said.
“I’ve fought the marauders. I know their tactics and must warn Admiral Kanga.” She took Dyana’s gloved hands. “Call me a rotten mom—I wouldn’t blame you. Jimmy is my world, but I’m also—”
“A warrior.” Dyana embraced her. “I’ve got Jimmy. God goes before you, sister.”
“And you, sister. Thank you.”
Stripped down to black unitard and slimline air mask, Taelor slipped into Alpha’s shadowed corridor paralleling Bravo shafts. Shouts rang among fighters firing zingers and lobbing concussives. She stole beneath the battle’s fog to summon a wall cargo unit at Intersection 23. Folding knees to chin, she wiggled inside the square compartment. As soon as the silver door snapped shut, doubt entangled her ribs and squeezed.
Lord, Admiral Kanga lost his daughter on my watch. His pain kept him from believing me about the marauder’s tactics. Help him now.
At Command level, she scrambled from the elevator compartment onto a deck where operational personnel worked efficiently with various leaders. Admiral Kanga stood in the chamber’s center. Dressed in battle blues, he paced with hands behind his back. She met his snapping gaze.
“Escort this civilian off my Deck.”
A pair of sentries stepped forward, but Warrior Candor intervened. “What intelligence?”
She nodded to the deck’s rectangular out-viewers. “There’s a second ship.”
“Lidar isn’t picking up stealth signatures,” a technician said.
“This ghost technology of yours doesn’t exist,” Kanga snapped.
Be bold.
“Admiral, I fought them. Their tactic is distraction. You sent troops to the ship’s farthest point, but a ghosted ship prepares to strike here, at command.”
“Where’s your proof?”
She went to him. “Sir, please—we both miss those we’ve lost. Save others from that pain. Armor the hull. Or marauders will breach this deck and take Forward.”
She peered into his umber gaze until it softened; he’d decided to trust her again. Thank you, Lord.
“Armor!” Kanga shouted.
Forward’s plating clamped down over the ship’s hull just as the marauder's weaponry belched ordnance.
“Forgive me,” Kanga said, “and thank you. You’re Forward’s rightful field commander. Will you stay?”
She’d dreamed of reinstatement, and it had come. Praise you, Lord God!
“Aye, Sir. I’m honored. But first, I’d like to borrow your sentries.”
She had a friend and son to rescue and protect.
And she would, as Forward’s First Warrior.
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