The sea was a dull, cold grey, yet it was neither empty nor flat. There was an iron speck present, isolated, battling the raging storm all around it. 50-foot swells broke over the bow of the Pride of Tersgrad as the Battlecruiser laboured through the brutal Arctic Seas. She was a powerful vessel but the primal, storm-wracked oceans were a force unmatched in nature and the ship was behind schedule.
Senior Lieutenant Anna Winowska Renski cursed under her breath. They were going too slow. Not that there was anything that could be done about it, the engines were already being pushed to the maximum, the aged Commonwealth vessel practically groaning under the stress as it sped, best as able, to the rendezvous.
She knew little about the actual mission details. The captain was below, resting. He had been pushing himself hard these last few days and he was no longer a young man, having been the master of the Pride of Tersgrad some twenty-five years. Whilst he recuperated Renski was in command. He had confided to her that they were meeting a Commonwealth agent that had commandeered a vessel from the accursed Covenant dogs and that this prize could represent a substantial shift in the balance of power, a return to glory for the Motherland. No less than six vessels had been redirected to escort the vessel safely into Commonwealth waters. A veritable flotilla to safeguard the stolen vessel. Captain Lebenev had instructed her to ensure they made the meeting and retired to his cabin.
There was little for her to do though. She had come to know the bridge crew well over the two years since she had been commissioned to the vessel and had total confidence in their ability to perform their required duties.
Anton Cherkiy was at the Helm, his shift should have ended almost an hour ago but he would see the ship through this storm before he rested. He battled the uneven waves best as he could, guiding the warship through the calmest sections of the seas ahead, though that was a relative term at best. He was a young man, having been assigned to the Pride of Tersgrad at the same time as Renski. Dead man's boots. Most of the bridge crew had been killed in an ill-fated engagement with Union Destroyers two years ago, including his brother who had been the Officer of the Watch at the time. This was the man that Renski had replaced and though she had been uneasy working with a relative of the man she was succeeding, Cherkiy was professional and steadfast enough that her fears had soon been allayed.
The Gunnery Sergeant was above on the Flying Bridge, He was a veteran and had survived the battle that had claimed so many of his comrades. A grim man named Norchaev, he spoke little, and not just because half of his face was ruined by shrapnel. Still, by some miracle, his eyes had escaped unscathed and his vision remained keen as ever. Thanks to his ocular keenness the Pride of Tersgrad had continued to reap a hefty toll after her repairs were complete and she was back in service.
Alongside him stood Bartoz Splikov, Air Defence officer. Bartoz was a man utterly devoted to his duty, another two-year officer, he was garrulous enough off duty, especially fond of a drink and a song, but able to totally shift attitude once duty called. It was a trait that Renski much admired, his ability to compartmentalise and segregate his thoughts and behaviours as required was second to none.
Back down on the Flag Bridge, Leskin Yahantov was to Winowska’s right, the Navigation Officer was one of 264 crew that had been assigned to the Pride of Tersgrad two years ago. He assured her that the stormy weather petered out in another few miles. After that it would be much easier going and they would have a chance to make back lost time. He pored over the detailed chart before him, calculating the optimum route based upon the information available to him.
Finally, and although not officially a member of the bridge crew but nonetheless valued by Renski, was Karla Trenkov. Karla was a junior non-commissioned officer or Starshiy Matros. Renski had taken her under her wing a few months ago and she effectively operated as a Yeoman. Many had raised an eye at her inclusion but Renski honestly couldn't care less. Captain Lebenev had allowed it, if not exactly approved, and that was all that mattered. The men would talk, let them. There were precious few women serving aboard Commonwealth vessels anyway, let those who wanted to serve, serve. The Motherland accepted all sacrifices, all loyal comrades were entitled to bleed the same.
Captain Lebenev was coming to the end of his distinguished career. The 'Old Man' would always be treated with respect bordering on reverence, his name spoken with honour by cadets back at the academy. He was a figurehead for the Commonwealth navy, been offered the Admiralty several times but had always refused the promotion on the basis that it would take him away from the place he belonged, the bridge of his warship. Renski suspected that the rank would be foisted upon him on an honorary basis at some point anyway. High Command would want it, would want the prestigious parade and propaganda opportunities that such an event would afford. Well deserved, and a veteran of many campaigns, his legend had been assured when he had somehow commanded a ravaged Pride of Tersgrad to victory over the squadron of ambushing Union Destroyers thirty months ago. He had given much blood for the Commonwealth on that day, not to mention a leg.
She wished she could have witnessed it. The newsreels gave a detailed account but they were nearly always embellished to the limit of credulity (though you would find few that would admit it). Nonetheless, it would have been a sight to see, the odds well and truly beaten and victory seized from the ashes of death and defeat. The vessel had returned a smoking ruin, but returned it had. Battered but unbowed. Now, renewed once more she sailed again, bringing death to her foes for the Glory of the Commonwealth. One day, she told herself, one day this ship would be hers.
The voice tube rattled. News from the Flying Bridge. The weather was clearing ahead of expectations. This was her chance. She would let Lebenev rest a little more before summoning him back to the bridge. They had time to make up.
They would make the rendezvous, of that she had no doubt. This was a noble ship and a good crew and she knew them well.