Doing What You Have To Do, Part 1
Author: Witezon
Rating: PG-13 (Language)
Pairing: Eventually H/M
Spoilers: Assume through Season 8.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, et al. No infringement is intended.
Original: 2002/Revised: 2003
DAY 1 - 2000 HOURS
USS ENTERPRISE, SOMEWHERE IN THE SOUTH ATLANTIC
Her first thought was of pain. Hers. She hurt all over. 'What the hell happened?' Slowly opening her eyes, she looked around.
'SHIT.' She slowly turned over to lie on her stomach, pushing up to her knees. 'Uuughh.' She took a shallow breath and looked around again. Bodies were scattered all around the bridge. She remembered walking off the bridge when the ship shook violently and then she woke up to this.
She looked at the person lying closest to her. Dead, if the vacant stare meant anything. With a momentous effort, she grabbed onto the hatch and pulled herself up. That effort left her muscles shaking and her lungs trying to take deep breaths which seemed impossible. Holding her side, she slowly drew in a breath. Carefully feeling her ribs, she thought, 'A couple must be broken. Just great.'
She looked around the bridge again. 'SHIT.' The windows were blown out and the Captain... she made her way over to him. He was slumped back against his chair. She put two fingers on his carotid artery, then sighed. 'Two dead, the rest unconscious. I hope.'
"Bridge, can anyone hear me?!" burst through the bridge phone speaker.
It startled her, but jumping in shock was asking a little too much now. She made her way to the bridge phone, looking at the bodies scattered around her.
Taking the phone, she said, "Bridge. MacKenzie." Short and to the point; she reverted to it from habit.
A pause. "Carleton, Troop Deck. Colonel MacKenzie?"
"Affirmative. Status?"
"Ma'am, all Marines are accounted for; injuries are minor. We've been trying to get off the deck, but the doors are sealed. We're about through with the torches. We haven't been able to contact anyone but you."
Grinding her jaws together and taking a short breath, she thought again, 'SHIT.' "Captain, once you've cut through the hatch, these are your orders. Secure the ship. Until we know differently, assume we've been boarded by hostile forces. Send one squad with an officer and medic to the bridge. I want the squad with the techs on it. Take any actions necessary to secure the ship." Taking another breath, she continued, "You are authorized the use of lethal force."
Starting again, she said, "When you find able Navy personnel not needed to run or repair the ship, use them to secure the ship. I want reports every 10 minutes. I'll put the ship on GQ to bring the systems, or what's left of them, on combat status."
There was a brief, bare silence, then, "Affirmative, Colonel. We will secure the ship. Lethal force has been authorized." A loud noise was heard in the background.
"Ma'am, we've gotten through the hatch. Marines are being deployed; a squad should be there shortly."
A quick thought and she got ready to retune the bridge phone to the Marine tactical frequency. "Captain, we need to use COMSEC as much as possible. We'll switch freq to freq every 10 minutes. After this comm, go to Marine Tac freq, then to the LSO freq."
"Roger. In 10."
Mac looked around the Bridge again. 'SHIT.' She walked over to the alarms and hit the GQ. Instantly, alarms blared out across the ship. She took the mike. "General Quarters, General Quarters. This is not a drill. Repeat. This is not a drill. Damage Control report status to the Bridge." She went over to the hatch and secured it.
Fifteen minutes had passed since she regained consciousness and assumed 'command' of the bridge. A Marine in command of a Naval aircraft carrier. A lawyer yet. 'SHIT.'
She looked around the bridge again; no one else had woken up yet. Not a good sign. She couldn't think about that right now, there was a ship to look after. Other people on that ship. She went over to the radar screens. Nothing she could detect was showing on the screens. A quick 'thank you' winged its way above.
A low moan sounded from one of the bodies on the deck. It was one of the Communications Techs. She slowly walked over to her. The Tech opened her eyes, looked around, and then immediately locked on Mac.
"Ma'am, what happened?"
"Can you get up? What's your name?" The Tech slowly got up.
"I'm Seaman Rosarios, Ma'am. This is my first deployment. What happened?"
"Okay, Rosarios, I'm not sure what happened, but we're looking into it. I need you to get on communications and find out if you can hear anything. I've put the ship on GQ and Damage Control reports should be coming in soon."
A pounding on the hatch sounded. "That should be the Marines. Let me get in place and then go let them in, but stand out of the way." The Tech went wide-eyed, but nodded and made her way over to the hatch.
Earlier Mac had taken a sidearm from one of the officers on the bridge--in case she needed it. She took a defensive position to the hatch, taking aim. She nodded at Rosarios.
Rosarios slowly opened the hatch from behind.
Suddenly, Marines shot in, high and low, taking offensive positions on the bridge. They took in the situation and the Marine officer stood up.
"Colonel MacKenzie? I'm First Lieutenant Stone and this is my squad. Sergeant Kowalski is my medic. What are your orders, Ma'am?"
"Thank you, Lt. That's Seaman Rosarios, she's a Comm Tech. I need radar, navigation, computer systems, and someone to pilot the ship. I need to know where we are. I've ordered damage reports, but I haven't heard anything yet. Have Kowalski go around the bridge and determine everyone's status."
He nodded. "Miller, take radar. Simpson, computer systems. Ivanisvech, navigation. I can pilot the ship. My family has their own fishing boats in New England."
The Marines fell-to. Soon the ship and the area around the ship were being monitored. Sentries were posted around the exterior of the bridge. Finally, damage reports slowly started to trickle in. The first was from Sick Bay. Rosarios waved Mac over.
"Ma'am, this is Commander McGregor. He's the OIC of Sick Bay." In the background, Mac could hear the low murmurings of the marine squads reporting in.
"Doctor McGregor, this is Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, temporarily in command of the bridge. What's the status of Sick Bay?"
"Colonel? What happened to the Captain and the bridge crew?"
"Doctor, they're incapacitated. The medic is doing what he can and as soon as we can secure a passageway from here to Sick Bay, we'll get these people to you. Now, what's your status?" That said in a getting-pissed Marine voice.
The doctor wasn't stupid. "Colonel, we've got a full complement of doctors, nurses, and corpsmen, but we can't get out. I've tried unsuccessfully to contact Engineering and Security for assistance. I finally got through to Troop Deck and I was advised to contact the Bridge. We've just got a few bruises and sprains. What can we do?"
"Stand by. As soon as we can get there, we'll cut you out." Waiting for a moment, she continued, "We have casualties on the bridge."
This time, he paused. "Acknowledged. The Captain?"
She looked over at the medic. He shook his head. She spoke back into the mike, "I'm sorry, Doctor. Captain Carleton expects to reach your area in another 10 to 15 minutes."
"Aye, Aye, Colonel." With amusement in his voice, he said, "Ma'am, you may well be the first Marine to command a Naval aircraft carrier." Now a frown sounded. "How are you doing, Ma'am?"
The medic had attended her first, much to her dismay, and had cleaned her head wound and taped her ribs. "I'm fine. The medic already got me. He can fill you in later. Keep me advised of your situation. Bridge out."
"Ma'am?" This from First Lieutenant Stone. She looked over at him. "Why don't you sit down?" He gestured to the Captain's chair. The Captain's body had been removed and taken somewhere. Now it was merely a chair waiting from someone to occupy it. A Naval officer, a Ship's Captain, not a Marine officer. She continued to look at it.
'Suck it up, Marine. You're all this ship has for a Commanding Officer. You can get court-martialed later.' Everyone looked at her as she moved to the chair. She sat down and laid her hands on the arms.
Calling out with all the confidence the Marine Corps had drilled into her, she said, "Rosarios, Bridge recording on."
"Aye, Ma'am. Bridge recording on."
"This is Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, USMC, JAG Corps, temporarily in command. Approximately 2 hours, 15 minutes ago, the ship took several missile hits and the ship has automatically locked down. Casualties and injuries are high. The Captain and most of the Bridge crew are casualties. The Marines, under the command of Captain Carleton, are currently securing the ship. One-half of the ship has been secured at this time. No hostiles have been found. We are working on the assumption hostiles may be aboard, but we have confirmed that the damage is from missiles."
Looking out over the ocean, then at the Marines and the one sailor manning Bridge Ops, she continued, "We are securing the Sick Bay Deck now and will be transferring the wounded and casualties there shortly."
"Captain. I mean, Colonel," Rosarios started, looking embarrassed. MacKenzie looked over at her. "I've got the Flight Deck."
"Good. Can you put it on speaker?"
"Aye, Ma'am. This is Commander Hutchinson."
"Commander, this is Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie; what's your status?"
"Colonel? What happened to the Captain? What's going on?" Hutchinson sounded angry and confused.
"Commander, the Captain and most of the bridge crew are casualties. We've been hit by four missiles, one that apparently misfired. I've assumed command of the ship. What is your status? How soon can you get in the air to fly cover?"
All she heard was silence. 'I guess I better get used to this.'
"Colonel MacKenzie? Commander Rabb's partner? Has he reported in?"
She already knew that answer. No.
"No, Commander Rabb has not reported in, but our communications are limited due to malfunctions attributed to our damage. Engineering is attempting to repair that and the engines. That's why I need to know when you can get in the air. I need you to defend the ship."
More silence. That pissed her off--she didn't need flyboy egos getting in the way. She waited.
Then, "Commander, do you read me?"
Evidently he came to a decision. "Ma'am, we've had a few injuries, but the planes are airworthy. We can get up as soon as we can raise them to the flight deck and make sure the catapult is working. Do you know when that will be?"
She looked over at Stone. He was acting as her Exec.
He looked at his board. "From what's available from Engineering, we should be able to get the planes up in about two hours."
She nodded at him. "Commander, we should be able to bring everything on-line in about two hours." Taking a deep breath, which hurt her ribs, she said, "Commander Hutchinson, you are authorized lethal force to defend this ship. This authorization is granted as both the Acting Captain of this vessel and the JAG. Do you acknowledge?"
Silence. "Aye, Captain. I acknowledge authorization of lethal force."
"Good. Commander, I need one of the pilots or RIOs to act as LSO and also another one as Air Boss on the bridge."
"Acknowledged. I'll have one officer not flying be LSO and one as Air Boss for your staff."
She raised an eyebrow at his wording. "Commander, I'll also have a Marine hand carry to you a recording of my bridge report. I need someone to get high and away and send it COMNAVAIRLANT."
"Acknowledged, Ma'am. I'll be waiting."
"Ma'am?" It was Stone again. He walked over to her chair.
She looked up at him. "Yes?"
"I've got some updates for you. Sick Bay is now accessible and all wounded and casualties from the Bridge are there. The ship is 75% secured and both Marine and Navy security personnel are ensuring it stays that way. I've released our medic to Sick Bay. Engineering has revised its estimates for the Flight Deck, and it's coming up in 45 minutes. Engineering also reports that the engines have suffered some malfunctions, but are expected to be working, in a limited capacity, in about three hours. Engineering teams have deployed around the ship to ensure our seaworthiness, but we don't seem to have any sea-level openings. Intra-ship communications are up and we can contact all areas of the ship. Off-ship communications should be up in about an hour, but there's some problems in that area, and staff offices are closed and the personnel have been reassigned to combat and combat-support positions. Oh, the Mess is also open and sending up coffee and snacks."
"Excellent. Any change in our heading?"
"We're drifting about one knot every hour. The sea is calm, we're heavy, and we should be able to navigate as soon as engineering comes up. The closest land mass is South America, about eight hours away at best speed. We aren't in any danger of entering any countries' waters."
"Rosarios, we're still recording?"
"Aye, Ma'am."
"As you just heard, First Lieutenant Stone has just reported our status as of three hours from missile attack. First Lieutenant Stone is acting as my Executive Officer. I will maintain command until I receive word from COMNAVAIRLANT to relinquish it. I accept any and all responsibility for my actions during my command of this ship. This tape will be delivered to Commander Hutchinson for transmission to COMNAVAIRLANT. MacKenzie out."
Thirty minutes later, the Marine sentry called out, "Ma'am, There's a Lieutenant Commander Navidad from Flight Deck?" She nodded and he entered.
Walking up to her, he said, "Colonel, I'm Lieutenant Commander Navidad. I'm here to be the Air Boss."
She smiled. "Excellent. We need to get those planes up." She nodded at the Air Boss station. "We don't have a staff for you yet, but hopefully we'll find some soon. Take your station."
"Aye, Ma'am." He walked over and started reviewing the station and bringing it up.
She nodded at Rosarios, who pulled the tape from the recorder and handed it to the Marine Corporal that was standing by. He looked at Mac, saluted, and went to Flight Deck.
Mac silently sighed to herself. Stone watched her, as he had for the past three hours. She was decisive, knowledgeable, and didn't take shit from anyone. Damn fine Marine. That surprised him; he always felt women, and especially female lawyers, weren't really Marines. Shaking his head, he thought again, 'Damn fine Marine.'
The Marine Corporal trotted up to Commander Hutchinson. "Sir, here's the recording from Colonel MacKenzie." He held it out and Hutchinson took it. Hutchinson looked at it and the Corporal.
"Corporal, the Marines are protecting her, aren't they?"
Staring him in the eye, the Corporal replied, "Yes, Sir. She has more Marines around her than the President has Secret Service. No one will get near her unless she wants them to." Nodding, Hutchinson dismissed him.
Lieutenant Steve Corelli, his RIO, walked up to him. "What was that about, Wolf? Is our Lady Marine Captain impressin' you?"
Snorting, he said, "Hell, yes. She's got us and the Marines so tied together we can't shit without the other knowing where and when."
Looking at his aircraft, he continued, "You know, I went up to the bridge and talked with her for 20 minutes about what's happening and what we need to do."
Glancing at the ocean, he said, "She's made some tough decisions and she's not even trained to captain a ship. Hell, if she does anything wrong, they'll blame it on her being a woman." Looking at Steve, he said, "She doesn't deserve that, and I'll support her if and when it hits the fan."
Taking a breath, Steve said, "Yeah, she impresses me too. The Marines think she walks on water. I'm beginning to wonder if she doesn't."
A voice yelled out, "Wolf, Fox, the Captain... ah, Colonel wants you up and away!" The LSO, Lieutenant Commander Ford, stood on the flight line.
"Yeah, yeah, tell our Lady Captain we're up in 15!" In 15 minutes, his squadron was up and away. Some flew close cover, some high and out, and one way out to transmit the recording.
Mac silently sent thanks that the Tomcats were finally in the air. She went over the checklist in her mind. 'The ship is slowly--very slowly--getting under control. Injuries are still being assessed, and Engineering has its repairs underway. I guess that means it's time for a staff meeting for a status report and more decision-making--by guess who? I'm definitely going to Leavenworth. I wonder if they'll let me bunk with my Uncle.'
"Lieutenant Stone? Would you please arrange a staff meeting with all departments in the closest conference room for 30 minutes from now?"
"Aye, Ma'am. Are you going somewhere?" he asked, when she stood up.
She looked at him. "Just the head, Lieutenant." She looked back. "Would you have coffee and food available at the meeting?"
He nodded, both at her, and when she wasn't looking, at the Marine standing in the window. The Marine nodded back and spoke in his radio. She was being protected. Whether she wanted it or not.
