QM1 Peters was kneeling over him, pressing something on his head and calling for the corpsman. The deck was pitched upward and vibrating badly as the main engines drove them toward the surface. It was dark in control. The lights were out and the emergency battle lanterns were providing the only illumination. Most of the flat-panel displays were blank; the few that were alive displayed reddish fuzz. The air smelled of smoke and burnt insulation. A lot of men were down, crumpled on the deck where they fell. The XO was on the sound-powered phones taking in reports from all over the ship. “Personnel casualties in engineering! Sonar reports all systems are down.” As he spoke, the lights flickered, then failed. “Engineering reports there are numerous shorts in the forward compartment. They are trying to isolate the affected circuits.” As Jerry’s eyes started to adapt to the low light, he could see that every face in control held the same horrified look.
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