Chronicles of Sol: The Fall

Chapter One Eighty Storm Patrol



Countryman found Richards in her office, just off the main engine room. She'd taken a moment to get some paperwork done while the damage control teams were inspecting the recent damage from the storm. Richards smiled when he came in, "Good Day, sir? Is there something I can help you with?"

He took one of the seats across from her desk and started, "I was thinking of running some patrols through the storm."

"Well our fighters can handle that, it won't be too hard to fit them for recon duty."

"Agreed, but there is a lot of space out there, so I was thinking about the 1205. In the past we've used it to resupply and anchor a fighter patrol."

"Well sure, the ventral docking clamps and airlock make it easy, but I have the feeling you want more."

Countryman nodded, "The X-1205 is a fairly large combat shuttle, but it has to be for what it does. Not to mention, she was designed to be a highly modular and tough ship. Now we aren't going to be needing the troop bay, so we can swap that out for a secondary reactor module, additional capacitors and an armory of torpedoes. As a recon patrol it will be out for extended missions, so we should also extend the crew cabin a bit. Still accommodations might be a little tight."

"Agreed, but I see what you are thinking. I can get people started on the required modules, as soon as I sketch them out. Now by default, those shuttles carry four fixed-mount particle cannons, and two turrets with dual light particle cannons. What are you thinking for armament."

"I was thinking we'd outfit them for space combat taking elements from the gunship and light bomber profiles. She'll carry six particle turrets for weapons coverage, along with a torpedo launcher, and a pulsar torpedo launcher."

"Heavy combat from the sound of it, but I think I could fit that. Give me a little time."

"I figured, I did a few calculations myself on the thought. Might be a bit much, but I'd like the people we send out to have some options to protect themselves."

"Might be easier to design and build a corvette."

Countryman chuckled, "With what resources? We had to shelve all our active ship design projects."

"I know, but we had other priorities and it wasn't like we were going to be building any capital ships while suffering from radiation poisoning."

Countryman nodded, they'd been designing several large vessels intended to be part of a future fleet when they had the chance to settle down and build said fleet. Richards had her Hammer project, which was intended to produce a large industrial vessel. Able to process raw materials and construct cruiser-sized vessels all in the depths of space. There were also the Saber and Battlehawk projects, which were intended to produce a next-generation destroyer and a heavy cruiser, respectively. Not a full fleet but the start of one and those were just the projects that had actually gone anywhere. There were a couple that were nothing more than a heading in the computer, with a few design requirements drawn up. Such as Project Kingdom, which had been proposed for the designing of a carrier, and there was also Project Firebird, which was on the other end of the spectrum. A small frigate proposal, but both projects had been stopped before they got off the ground by the storm.

He sighed, "Sadly I don't see that changing much now that we are stuck in hyperspace, and if the nature of that fleet we just encountered is any indication it might be rather hard to build ships out here."

Richards set a pad to the side, "Right, I had similar worries. Finding the materials for new construction looks the most challenging. Still the idea of a small corvette-sized vessel for short-range mission profiles isn't without value. I'll get something together in case we can do it."

Countryman leaned forward intending to discuss things further, when the Intercom buzzed. Robins spoke, "Richards? Is the Captain with you?"

"He is, is there something you need him for?"

"There is something I'd like to discuss. If he could come by my office at his earliest convenience..."

Countryman interjected, "I'll be on my way." He glanced at Richards, "Excuse me for now but we can resume this conversation at a later date."

Walking into the ship's hospital via the entrance on deck 42, Countryman took a look around. Compared to the last time he was here the place was notably calmer. He wasn't that surprised, as the current level of activity was more in line with what he expected. Last time he was here, people were coming in with all sorts of issues caused by the infernal radiation of the storm. Tessa's genetic cure might have been a little rushed, but from what he saw it was working.

The receptionist looked up from the desk, she smiled. "Hey captain, you are looking better than the last time I saw you."

He chuckled, "I could say the same about you. Anyway Robins asked me to come see him. Is he..."

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"Robins is in his office, you can go on ahead."

"Thank you."

Walking past the desk, he took the familiar halls toward Robins' office. Having been here more than once in the last two years, he'd become rather familiar with the layout. More so than he ever had been before.

After a quick knock on the door, Doctor Robins bade him to enter. Countryman closed the door behind him and inquired, "So what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Something I don't want to raise too much alarm about just yet. Since the treatment, I've been noting reports of minor mutations among some individuals. Nothing life-threatening so far, just minor things like changes in eye color, or a shift in skin tone. Given you were one of the first I treated, I need to ask if you noticed anything different aside from the intended effects."

"Among some individuals? That does sound minor, but how many are we talking about?"

"So far? Five percent of those treated have reported a minor mutation with most of those cases being from those treated in the first two weeks."

"And you think this is related to the treatment?"

"I suspect, but I lack data to confirm."

"Noted."

Robins then gave him a look, "Yes, but I can't help but notice you evaded the question."

"Nothing out of the norm, well aside from my bioelectrical field being four points stronger than normal, but that's happened before."

"So it has, and that could be any number of things. Still I want you to keep an eye on that. Just in case this is the start of something larger."

"Larger? I sure hope not, and you've only noted it in five percent. It could be nothing."

"Still, I'd rather not take that risk. We both know the Silver Blood as everyone likes to call it, was rushed into production."

"I'm quite aware of that, but we both know it was a necessity. I'm not saying you shouldn't keep an eye on this, but I'm not ready to make a big deal of it. It could be nothing."

Robins nodded, "I understand. I'll be keeping an eye on things, but you are right we don't need to be starting another panic too soon."

Countryman stretched a little, "Agreed, now minor mutations aside, is there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

Robins smiled, and pulled something out from his desk, "Yes, I'm pleased to say that with the radiation issue behind us, people are shifting back to other pursuits. Just today, we've seen an uptick of almost 3000% in fertility visits."

Countryman recalled that those had dropped to almost nothing over the last two years. An uptick that large was bringing such visits back to normal levels. That was a huge spike in activity and it bode well for the future of their species. Now there was a question on if it would stay that high, go higher, or plateau in the near future, but this was good news. "That's wonderful."

"Oh, very wonderful indeed, if people are planning for kids again, we can expect more births. We do need people to replace those we lost."

It was perhaps a bit callous to look at new life as replacements, but with their numbers, every child was not only precious but direly needed. It would be generations before they had recovered to the numbers they enjoyed before the fall of Earth. It would take decades of growth just to reach the low millions. "I hope this means we are back on track for the predictions we had a few years ago."

"As of right now, it's too early to say, but I do think this is promising."

Countryman nodded and stood up. "I have to agree. Now I shouldn't stay too long."

"Have a pleasant day sir."

Countryman reached the bridge, just in time to see the first storm patrols leaving. Fighter groups, standard recon configuration of one bomber, and two fighters. Given they only had a dozen bombers, that did limit how many groups they could send out. However that also meant they had several squadrons remaining in reserve. It had worked for them back in Frozen Oasis and several times both before and after. It wasn't a bad use of their limited resources and they got decent coverage out of it.

Greyman saw him come in, "I presume your chat with Richards was productive?"

"As well as can be expected. Did I miss anything?"

"Not really, haven't seen a sign of our friends since they left."

"Glad to hear it," replied Countryman as he took his chair. Greyman moved to fill him in on what little had been done without him, which wasn't that much. They'd merely been organizing a few patrols. They had several set up that would make sure another raider fleet didn't sneak up on them like that last one did.

Sure it might not have been much of a threat, but that didn't mean there weren't ships out there with more bite and less bark. On the other hand, there was the storm to worry about, and he knew the ships they sent out might be in danger, but the risk seemed to be worth it.

"Now about the damage we took from the storm. Engineering reports the damage was confined to the port dorsal and didn't penetrate the plating. However, there is some crumpling of the plating. Richards reports, the plating is salvageable, but we won't be able to fix it without an EVA. The plating will need to be removed, and then reshaped in a factory setting to avoid compromising its integrity."

"Sounds like we might be going back to Anchorage. Still that's no reason to cut this trip short. We still need to chart the Rim."

"Agreed, sir. Speaking of the Rim, Misaki has made some progress studying it and has been forwarding the scans to the labs. I hear the scientists are drooling down there."

Countryman chuckled, "I'm sure they are."


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