Bretonian Armed Forces Defense Intelligence Staff (DIS) (iRP) (AO)

[Dieter Schprokets]

The Dauntless was listing, being pulled into a nearby asteroid by the force of its gravity.

The battle with the Kusari had erased two Kusari Destroyers from the enemy's order of battle, but it looked dangerously like the Dauntless was going to suffer a similar fate, in about 2 minutes. Weakened by the fight, a collision with the asteroid would destroy her.

Captain John Clay was returning from patrol in his Templar when he saw his ship about to die. He knew what was going to happen, he knew he had full load of nuke mines left, and he knew those would turn that asteroid into small harmless chunks, and he knew he had no time to ponder other options.

He also knew he had to time his ejection very accurately...

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Grey walls, grey ceiling, grey bed. Intensive care was not conducive to cheer.

Clay's head felt like he'd been caught cheating with a Sumo wrestler's wife.

In the next room, a familiar looking figure was undergoing some physiotherapy for his mixed bag of original and replacement leg parts. Once he was done, he came over to John with a smile on his face.

"Glad to see your doing as well as the Dauntless. Both of you will be on the mend for some time."

Fleet Admiral Ralston sat, with a grimace.

"You saved that ship, Commodore Clay."

He got up and waved away the need for a response from the injured man. As he left, he said one more thing;

"Get well soon. You'll find the Derby an easier command. Unless you need to take the Dauntless out, once she is shipshape, if the Derby gets too boring for you..."

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