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Old March 7 2012, 05:28 AM   #38
Re: Star Trek: Republic

Chapter Nineteen

Matt leaned forward, and he rubbed his thigh with one hand. “Thank you, Mister Philips,” he replied to the image of Sean on the main viewer. “White Cloud is to proceed to New Columbia; I want you to take up a position in orbit above the settlement—and if you receive any indication that the Nephkyrie are activating that transporter beacon, I want you to destroy it. You are authorized for a photon torpedo strike from orbit, Mister Philips—I will provide that order in writing if you so desire.”

“That won’t be necessary, Sir,” Sean answered. “I understand the stakes; if they can reverse the beam and transport to the planet, then removing them will be far more difficult.”

“You’re going to have a minimum crew aboard, Sean—I’m pulling all of my Marines back, and the majority of your engineers. And just so she doesn’t decide to try anything, we are transferring Inderi aboard as well; that should be one less headache for you to worry about.”

“Understood,” the engineer said as Matt addressed his chair audio pickup. “Mister Malik.”


“Time for Plan B. How long will it take to reset the inhibitor field? I want it to conform with our shield bubble for maximum strength.”

Thirty minutes, Captain.”

“How much will that increase the field strength?”

Enough that I will guarantee they can’t beam anything aboard, Sir. However, we will be vulnerable to proximity warheads.”

“Not for long, Mister Malik, get to work down there. Miss Biddle,” he addressed the Operations officer. “Plot us a course behind the Nephkyrie vessel, maintaining a distance of at least three million kilometers. Miss Montoya, let’s make our way there and match that ship’s vector and velocity. Once we are in position, Miss Biddle, I will need you to plot a course at Warp speed to bring us out very close to their ship; Miss Montoya I want Republic oriented so that our belly is facing their hull.” Matt pulled up a schematic of the Nephkyrie vessel on the main viewer and he highlighted a small section of their hull. “Put us here, Miss Montoya.”

“How close do you want her, Sir?” Grace asked.

“Our shield bubble extends fifteen meters beneath the keel; I want us to come out of Warp with no more than thirty meters of separation between our shields and their hull.”

Everyone on the bridge, including Chan, turned to stare at Matt. Isabella’s jaw gapped opened in shock, as her face drained of blood. Grace merely blinked. “Did you say thirty meters of separation? Sir?”

“No more than thirty meters, Miss Biddle. Ideally I don’t want five meters of separation. Ladies and gentlemen, we are going to get in so close against them that they cannot use their transporter delivered nukes without gutting their own ship in the process. Mister Roshenko,” he continued as he swiveled the command chair to face his tactical officer. “We’ve got four phaser arrays on the ventral surface—I want every weapons emplacement that can bear on us destroyed the instant we come out of warp,” dozens of different gun mounts began to flash on the display. “I do not want over penetrating shots if you can avoid it, Mister Roshenko. We will have bare seconds—at best—before they bring those seventy-six emplacements on-line and to bear; you will have to be accurate and fast.”

Matt sat back and he rotated his seat forward. “I want us as close as a tick on a hound, people. Once we are on station, and their local weapon systems are disabled, the Nephkyrie will have a choice—begin a dialogue or continue to stonewall.”

Chan cleared his throat. “And if they continue to stonewall? Sir.”

Matt pressed another button. “Mister Beck.”


“You have been listening as I requested?”

Yes, sir.”

“I want all Marines outfitted with Phaser Rifles and field armor. Additionally, Mister Shrak will be sending you a list of crewmen that will flesh out your boarding parties. Can you outfit another hundred and twenty personnel gleaned from our crew and Philip’s engineers?”

I don’t have enough armor, but I’ve got plenty of phasers. And grenades; I’ve assembled a good supply of those since you installed that replicator, Captain.”

“Thank you, Mister Beck. If they continue to refuse to talk, ladies and gentlemen, then we will board them; we will find our colonists; we will recover our colonists; and we will destroy their transporter system. And if we can’t; if the colonists are dead and they continue to refuse to even speak with us, then I’ll blow them out of space.”

Matt lowered his head, and the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “Any officer or crewman who feels that they cannot with good conscience participate in such an action may report to Mister Shrak for transfer to the White Cloud.”

“Miss Montoya, this is all contingent on you getting us that close without ripping off a nacelle in the process. Can you do it?”

The young Lieutenant stared at the Captain for a moment and then she nodded her head slowly. She licked her dry lips. “Y-yes, Sir. I can get us that close.”

“Very well, then. Get your departments prepared; Mister Shrak assemble a list of personnel to augment the Marines and have them report to Lieutenant Beck. We have thirty minutes until Mister Malik finishes his adjustments. You have that length of time to get ready for this. Mister Shrak, you have the conn; I need to inform Admiral Hanson at Starbase 114 in case something goes wrong.”

Matt stood, and he turned around and cocked his head at the Andorian. “I have the conn, Sir,” Chan answered; but then he stepped up close. “And they say I am the crazy one, pink-skin,” he whispered.

“Just get the ship ready, Chan," Matt replied in a low voice.

“On one condition, Captain,” the XO continued.

“Condition? Your are setting conditions?”

“Yes, sir. You will not be boarding that ship, but sitting in that command chair instead, Sir. That is my sole condition.”

“Agreed. Now get her ready, Mister Shrak.”

“Aye, aye, Sir.”

Last edited by MasterArminas; March 7 2012 at 06:40 AM.
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