"Commander, the starboard side is basically fully open to the void, all 500 plus meters of it. The engine is... finicky. She'll run, but not well. We lost 2 more m60s and 3 more M710's, and a Mac. 42 crewmen are either dead or missing. And the captain... Is also gone. His pelican git hit by a laser, sir." Lieutenant Commander Austin said.

  I closed my eyes, and relaxed my body. I breathed in, and sighed slowly. "FUCK!" I yelled. We were in my office, and it was only us and the other section officers.

  I sighed again, and gently wiped my face. "Get the Admiral on the line I you can. Were combat infective. Tell him that we can drag one of the frigates after us, but it is my recommendation that the Rebuke needs time in drydock. That will be all for now." I say.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  First our front gets taken off, and now the starboard side. This ship had taken a beating. A bad one, and come out worse for it. We were just shy of crippled, and it showed.

  We lost a bit more then a third of the crew, a significant amount of our firepower, our engines took a beating, sensors were crippled period, and moral was crushed.

  I sighed, and got back to writing. Work to do, notices to send to soon to families... A while later, a lieutenant came in, and saluted.

  "The Admiral sends his reply, captain. He gives his condolences, and orders that we are to drag the Far Off Wind behind us (The Stalwart class), and we are to return to reach for repair and refit." He said.

  I stood up, and said, "Ay, Lieutenant. Return to your post." He nodded, and exited. I left my office as well, and headed to the bridge. Seemed it was time to get to work.

  First on the agenda, connecting our two ships. Next off would be travel. That, was going to be slow. Doable, but slow. We had to adhere to the Cole Protocol, then head for reach. After that, we'd either be stationed at reach itself, or whatever Admiral decided they needed us to muster.