* * *
A frantic voice heard over the intercom filled the officers on the bridge with fearsome dread. “The explosion took out the port control systems! We have people injured. Number two and three boilers are overheating! Crews are attempting to shut them down, but the damage is making it difficult. We must jettison fuel from the tanks that feed those boilers or…”
The intercom suddenly went dead, quickly followed by a violent shudder racing through the ship. Flames burst out through a ruptured hull, carrying away with it the number three boiler and engine rooms along with several of the crew. If not for the energy shield surrounding the Chisamore, it would have been torn asunder, killing everyone aboard. As it was, the majority of officers and crew manning the port boilers and engine rooms perished in the conflagration.
Within seconds, noxious, burning fumes were flooding all aft compartments and hangar bays. The captain ordered the holds to be sealed as the concussion of one eruptive explosion after another could be felt blasting through the ship. The Chisamore was fatally wounded, but not yet destroyed. It was the captain’s duty to salvage what souls he could. Those who were trapped in the raging destruction behind sealed bulkheads would have to survive as best as may be until rescue was afforded them.