*********************************************************
Shuttle Covila
“I got ‘em,” Lt. Rossa said excitedly. “That’s one ugly piece of work,” he muttered. A large, dark scarab-shaped ship, its makeshift hull stitched together from disjointed, myriad pieces dwarfed the smaller Shuttlecraft Inge caught in its tractor beam. The scarab was slowly reeling the silver white shuttle closer, while wearing down its paltry remaining defenses.
“I’m more concerned about its lethality, not its aesthetics,” Lt. Bano said sharply. “And I advise you to do the same.” The awkwardness she had felt about being assigned to the same vessel as Brendan, after the thing that happened between them, had largely evaporated due to the job at hand. However, Susan couldn’t shake the pain that erupted between her shoulder blades when she had seen how Terrence’s eyes had narrowed in suspicion when he heard the news.
He gave her a smirk, “Aye, aye ma’am.” The hybrid didn’t know if they would ever be able to patch things up, and she wasn’t even sure if they should try. Brendan was nice, sweet, if a bit immature for her; just maybe things had happened for a reason…
“Knock it off,” she replied, unable to maintain her hard expression. “I’ve powered up our shields and weapons.” Her stomach twitched as Rossa quickly shifted the shuttle in the direction of the melee.
“Altered course,” he said, though he didn’t need to. The Covila entered the fight.
*************************************************************
Shuttlecraft Voshev
“Shit,” Medina let slip.
“Heap of shit,” Glover added sourly. Two Starfleet shuttles were adrift, fires spread throughout their boxy hulls. “Life signs,” he hated to ask.
“Four strong,” the woman replied with relief. Terrence held his sigh back.
“What about the status of their vessels. Life support? Warp containment?”
“Rapidly losing both,” she said.
“How rapidly?”
“What are you getting at sir?”
“The Marshall is right behind us, correct?”
“I assume so sir,” Medina said, confusion still in her voice. Terrence initiated a quick scan. He grunted with satisfaction.
“I thought so,” he remarked.
“Excuse me sir?”
“The attacking vessel, its warp trail hasn’t dissipated. We can track it.”
“But sir, what about the survivors?”
“Marshall is behind us, correct?”
“I…uh, assume so,” Medina repeated.
“Send a communiqué to them, we’re going after those pirates.”
**************************************************************
Shuttle Covila
“I got ‘em,” Lt. Rossa said excitedly. “That’s one ugly piece of work,” he muttered. A large, dark scarab-shaped ship, its makeshift hull stitched together from disjointed, myriad pieces dwarfed the smaller Shuttlecraft Inge caught in its tractor beam. The scarab was slowly reeling the silver white shuttle closer, while wearing down its paltry remaining defenses.
“I’m more concerned about its lethality, not its aesthetics,” Lt. Bano said sharply. “And I advise you to do the same.” The awkwardness she had felt about being assigned to the same vessel as Brendan, after the thing that happened between them, had largely evaporated due to the job at hand. However, Susan couldn’t shake the pain that erupted between her shoulder blades when she had seen how Terrence’s eyes had narrowed in suspicion when he heard the news.
He gave her a smirk, “Aye, aye ma’am.” The hybrid didn’t know if they would ever be able to patch things up, and she wasn’t even sure if they should try. Brendan was nice, sweet, if a bit immature for her; just maybe things had happened for a reason…
“Knock it off,” she replied, unable to maintain her hard expression. “I’ve powered up our shields and weapons.” Her stomach twitched as Rossa quickly shifted the shuttle in the direction of the melee.
“Altered course,” he said, though he didn’t need to. The Covila entered the fight.
*************************************************************
Shuttlecraft Voshev
“Shit,” Medina let slip.
“Heap of shit,” Glover added sourly. Two Starfleet shuttles were adrift, fires spread throughout their boxy hulls. “Life signs,” he hated to ask.
“Four strong,” the woman replied with relief. Terrence held his sigh back.
“What about the status of their vessels. Life support? Warp containment?”
“Rapidly losing both,” she said.
“How rapidly?”
“What are you getting at sir?”
“The Marshall is right behind us, correct?”
“I assume so sir,” Medina said, confusion still in her voice. Terrence initiated a quick scan. He grunted with satisfaction.
“I thought so,” he remarked.
“Excuse me sir?”
“The attacking vessel, its warp trail hasn’t dissipated. We can track it.”
“But sir, what about the survivors?”
“Marshall is behind us, correct?”
“I…uh, assume so,” Medina repeated.
“Send a communiqué to them, we’re going after those pirates.”
**************************************************************
