Let her do her job

The vivid memory of the dark-haired woman holding a still twitching heart in her hands high above her head was enough to make up your mind. The beautiful woman's sanguine threat to use as many captive hearts as possible to feed the hunger of her moon goddess was not forgotten. Surrender was just not an option, with the retreat of the Acheron, Lt. Williams was your best hope to avoid a similar fate.

"Do it, Lisa." You tell her, "but as soon as we land I want you in the med-tube, no arguments."

"Yes, Sir!" Lt. Williams' attempt at a sharp military response is ruined by her hyperventilation, and slightly slurred response. As she continues her air-braking you monitor her vital signs paying particular attention to the rising blood-pressure and dangerous heart-rate.

You had been warned in Command school that there would be decisions like this, but did not expect to have to make one in just the first week of your command. Elevation was down to under one thousand meters, and air speed was under 200 m/s another few minutes of this and you might just make it.

It is impossible to see anything in the night sky but Williams was flying by instrumentation anyway. You have seen models of airships from Earth history with their clear windows for pilots to fly by sight, but no space ship design you've ever seen would put crew members in such an exposed position.

A red warning flash replaces the yellow threat indicator on Williams' bio-signs. Her heart rate is over 220 bpm and blood-pressure higher than you thought possible. If she has a stroke now, you'll all be dead now anyway, but you can see the projected landing zone just a few seconds away.

The crash that jerks you in your seat is unexpected in spite of your careful monitoring of the glide path. More amber warning lights flash in your command display, this time from ships sensors as the already damaged underbelly of the ship is stressed even more by the sudden impact with the planet.

According to the sensors, Lisa placed the Gorgon onto the water in a small bay less than 10 kilometers from her original estimate. The streamlined corvette skips over the waves like a flat rock, and slides onto the sandy beach and into the foliage lining the sandy strip.

Federation ships are designed to fly through the empty vacuum of space, even the Gorgon with her streamlined aerodynamic hull was not designed to take this kind of ****. So many warnings are flashing across your display that you almost don't see the one about your first mate.

++++WARNING! LT. WILLIAMS * CRITICAL CONDITION * IMINENT **** PROBABLE * ++++WARNNG! LT. WILLIAMS * CRITICAL CONDITION * **** * IMIN-

You cancel the warning and slap away your restraints even before the ship stops rocking, it takes only 20 seconds to drag the tall black woman to the med-tube, strip her from her flight-suit and slide her into the only medical facility your ship has, but those twenty seconds could be the difference between life and ****.

It would take some time for the tube to do its work, and you have dozens of alerts to deal with or none of this will make a difference anyway. It is ten minutes before you have a chance to access the med-tube and get the preliminary report.