Dark Territory: Maelstrom (WIP)
- Thread starter DarKush
- Start date
Please tell me Terrence isn't going to take a runabout to try to assist a Sovereign-class under attack?
Doctor Pepper
Excellent, excellent, excellent posts. The politics with the Ashlain is compelling because you just know it's headed somewhere bad. And lo and behold! And Glover is quite likely to tackle whatever attacked the Diadem with a mere shuttle craft.
The Pedro family home scenes were terrific. A lot of friction and pointed words from Pell and some neat emotional stuff that veered from being sappy. A really stellar piece of character work. I mean it has to be hard to write Glover just being so self-obsessed all the time! That guy can't see the plank in his own eye but calls foul on splinters in others.
Great stuff.
The Pedro family home scenes were terrific. A lot of friction and pointed words from Pell and some neat emotional stuff that veered from being sappy. A really stellar piece of character work. I mean it has to be hard to write Glover just being so self-obsessed all the time! That guy can't see the plank in his own eye but calls foul on splinters in others.
Great stuff.
I liked the scene between Covey and the Alshain and the scene between Kinnock and the captain of the Diadem was also very well done--our "villain" here very much has a human side.
Very well done character work as is the norm with a Dark Territory story. Glover is most definitely one of the most complex and detailed characters I have ever read--self absorbed, arrogant, with a ruthless and cruel side, yet you can't help but feel for him as he genuinely suffers.
Very well done!
Very well done character work as is the norm with a Dark Territory story. Glover is most definitely one of the most complex and detailed characters I have ever read--self absorbed, arrogant, with a ruthless and cruel side, yet you can't help but feel for him as he genuinely suffers.
Very well done!
I do hope he gets a better ship than a runabout, though. ... Then again... 
*************************************************************
USS Diadem
Main Bridge
“Where the hell did they get cloaking devices from?” Lt. Thomas Reeves spat, coughing violently seconds later as the smoke suffusing the bridge got into his mouth. The man’s body shook with hacking, and he gripped the edges of his console to stay upright as another plasma beam slammed into the ship. He imagined he could feel the searing golden beam slicing through duranium and flesh like a knife through hot butter. Why haven’t they deployed their energy weapon yet? He thought darkly of the Breen ships that had ambushed them, and finished off properly?
“Mr. Reeves,” the captain’s voice sounded hoarse and far away, “status of our weapons systems?”
He squinted, rubbing the tears from his eyes, as he gazed down at the console again to make certain. “Quantum and photon torpedoes offline,” he said. “Our phaser banks are half-charged.”
“That’s something at least,” he heard Rear Admiral Kinnock say, “What about the Vyras?”
Reeves had routed sensor functions from the Operations console after the first attack from the Breen ships. The terminal had been demolished along with part of the main hull. Just beyond the rim of the smoke, Tom could see the stars. Force fields had prevented them all from asphyxiating, but it hadn’t saved the lives of the first officer or the ops officer before they had been sucked into the void.
“Sir, the Vyras has broken formation and is headed back toward the border,” he said, nervously licking his lips. His skin tasted like sweat and soot.
“Damn it,” Kinnock cursed. “Hail them!”
“Can’t sir, I’m communications system’s down,” Reeves said.
“Shit,” Kinnock added.
“That’s the least of our worries,” Tom was relieved to hear a bit more steel in the captain’s voice this time. “Evasive maneuvers.”
“But we’re dealing with cloaked ships,” Kinnock complained.
“All the better to be on guard,” Tallis replied. “Follow my orders ensign,” she snapped at the Helm Officer. Tom felt the ship creaking in response to the new commands. It sounded like the Diadem was coming apart at the seams.
“Mr. Daf,” the captain called out to the Trill standing in at the Auxiliary Engineering console. Together he and Reeves were sharing the workload from all of the redirected Ops console functions. “Prepare a tachyon beam, wide dispersal; let’s see if the Breen cloaks are immune to that.”
Seconds later another Breen ship decloaked, sniped at the Diadem, stitching its starboard flank. Tallis ordered the helm to turn hard to port, and commanded Tom to let loose on the warship, but it had faded away again before Reeves was able to get a shot off.
“Are you daft man?” The admiral shouted. Reeves heard heavy boots ringing up the metal walkway from the command well. Seconds later, a ruddy-faced Kinnock was standing over him. He jabbed a finger hard into his chest. “Are you trying to get us killed on purpose?” He pushed Reeves out of the way. “Go somewhere where you won’t cause any trouble!”
“That’s unnecessary,” Tallis called, but she hadn’t left the command well. More important things were happening than personally defending a subordinate’s competence was at stake. “Come back down here Nigel. Let Mr. Reeves and the others alone.”
“Need I remind you that I’m the highest ranking officer on this ship,” Kinnock snarled. “I’ll go anywhere, do anything I damn well please! Let me try to save you…us,” he added quickly, but not fast enough for Tom not to catch on. The sensors beeped as another ship materialized. The barrage was even more devastating; spinning Diadem around with such force that it flung Tom into the admiral. Both men crashed against the wall, and then rolled down the walkway, a mass of limbs and battered flesh.
“Sir, are you all right?” Tom untangled himself slowly, wincing in pain. He wiped dripping blood from his nose, and carefully ran his hands over the painful places on his body, checking for broken bones. For the most part, the admiral had broken his fall. Serves you right, Tom thought, before bile burned his throat. Kinnock remained sprawled at the base of the walkway, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle. “Oh God,” Tom whispered, crawling backward from the corpse. “Oh God.”
“Mr. Reeves?” The captain called out. She rushed through the smoke to kneel at the fallen admiral’s side. She cradled him, stroking the laurel of graying hair around his bald pate. She leaned down and whispered into the dead man’s ear. Then she stood up and gazed at Tom with a look more frigid than any Andorian winter. “Return to your post Mr. Reeves,” she said, the matter-of-fact tone of her voice making her expression even more chilling. “We have Breen to kill.”
*****************************************************************
Exarch-Class Cruiser Vyras
Command Salon
“Sir, I must protest!” Vizier Topal’s hands fluttered over his chest. “You and the royal family should be your quarters, surrounded by Paladins.”
“The last time I inquired, I was ruler of all Alshain!” Jedalla snapped. His queen, the imperious Symea stood silently at his side, her armor as blood red as Jedalla’s. “And I belong here, in the thick of battle, to live and die with my warriors, my people!” The bridge erupted into snarls and barking that rattled the more urbane advisor. Topal quickly bowed his head and offered his throat in supplication.
“As you wish milord,” he acquiesced.
“How goes the battle? And what of the Starfleet vessel?” He asked, looking around. Topal deferred to the ship’s commander, Nauarch Draco L’Dac. The smallish, white-furred admiral seemed totally overwhelmed by the medals running the length of his tunic.
“Milord,” L’Dac bowed. “We are still being pursued by the Breen. They are using cloaking technology that we have yet to penetrate.”
“How many casualties?” Symea asked. The admiral turned stiffly to her and also bowed before responding.
“Milady, we have not incurred many casualties. It is as if the Breen don’t want to destroy us, only incapacitate us.”
“I believe they are seeking to capture you sire,” Topal interjected. Jedalla growled and the vizier backed away.
“Is that your opinion as well Nauarch?”
“Yes milord, I concur with the Vizier,” L’Dac replied.
“And what of the Starfleet vessel?” Symea asked. L’Dac paused and turned to Topal. The vizier gulped before speaking.
“To insure a greater chance of survival, I ordered the Vyras to separate from the Diadem.”
“You what?” Jedalla roared, backhanding Topal with such force that the corpulent man fell to the floor. “We’re supposed to be showing the Federation that we are stalwart allies, and at the first opportunity to do so you order a retreat? Now I see why you wanted me holed up in my quarters, to hide your shame…your cowardice,” he spat, the fluid splashing against the still prone vizier.
“Milord, sacrificing yourself here would not serve your purposes,” Queen Symea interjected, placing a restraining hand on the exarch’s arm. “The Peerage was divided on joining the Federation Alliance. Your death might strengthen the hand of your enemies, and I fear that Jang is not ready to rule. Topal was only exercising caution, and looking out for your interests, as he has for your family for decades.”
Jedalla stood over the man, his nostrils flaring, his fists balled. “Doesn’t anyone understand that once the Diadem has been destroyed, the Breen will focus all of their firepower on us? We’ve only staved off execution, capture, or humiliation. Together, we might have been able to fend off the Breen. Even if we hadn’t…the Alshain people would’ve risen to take up our cause out of a need to avenge our deaths.”
Topal chanced a look up, “Milord, I couldn’t risk that. You are too essential.”
“Perhaps,” the Exarch replied coldly. “Now, get up.” Topal got to his feet slowly. Jedalla had already turned his back to him. He strode to the command chair at the center of the bridge. L’Dac scrambled out of it and Jedalla sat down. The admiral retreated to the bank of consoles lining both sides of the bridge. He surveyed the starfield displayed on the main viewer.
A Breen vessel wavered in front of them seconds later. “I’m detecting energy signatures commensurate with their dampening weapon,” one of the sensor officers said.
“Evasive,” L’Dac didn’t finish his sentence before the beam hit the Vyras. Jedalla closed his eyes, anticipating a hailstorm of destruction. He felt embarrassed seconds later when the admiral gasped, “No effect. Their weapon has no effect on our systems!”
********************************************************************
Shuttlecraft Pellinore
Lt. Commander Pell rode shotgun. Ensign Rojas sat uneasily behind Glover, monitoring the ship’s weapons and propulsion. Terrence’s focus was solely on the battle ahead. The message had been static-filled, but unmistakable: The Dominion had attacked the Diadem and the Vyras, obviously making a move against Alshain Exarch Jedalla in an attempt to scrap the upcoming summit on Earth.
The message had been repeating on a loop, but Juanita was able to narrow down the initial time it had been sent to less than twenty minutes. They were in such relatively close proximity to the convoy that they had perhaps were the first ones to receive the message.
Glover had ordered the ensign to clean it up as best as possible and then to relay it on. He knew that the Pellinore would be the first responder, but Terrence wasn’t under any illusions that he could hold off a Breen death squad, especially after the carnage at Chin’toka. But if he could hold them off long enough, perhaps a Starfleet taskforce could put down the bastards as they tried to sneak back across the border.
Pell upgrading the propulsion and weapons systems on the shuttle at least gave them a few minutes to harass the Breen if they were fortunate. “Sir, long range sensors are detecting two divergent ion trails, one of them Alshain,” Pell replied, her brow wrinkling as she frowned. “I think they separated from the Diadem.”
“Have these people ever heard of divide and conquer?” Terrence groused.
“Maybe not, they aren’t human after all,” Pell joked, but there was little mirth in her eyes.
“Perhaps they were trying to escape, to increase the chances of at least one ship making it,” Juanita offered. Glover eventually nodded in agreement.
“I guess that makes sense, but it doesn’t make our job any easier.”
“Nothing ever seems to sir,” Rojas added darkly.
“We’ve got a decision to make,” Terrence surmised. “We can only follow one trail, so do we go with our comrades or the Alshain.”
“Is there any real question sir?” Pell asked. “The outcome of the war is riding on Jedalla making it to the summit.”
“She’s right,” Juanita said. “I hate what’s probably going to happen to the Diadem and its crew, if it hasn’t happened already, but we’ve got to save the Alshain.”
“I know,” Glover said. “I just wanted to be sure you both understood the stakes. Pell, set a course based on the Alshain’s ion trail. I pray we aren’t too late.”
******************************************************************
USS Diadem
Main Bridge
“Where the hell did they get cloaking devices from?” Lt. Thomas Reeves spat, coughing violently seconds later as the smoke suffusing the bridge got into his mouth. The man’s body shook with hacking, and he gripped the edges of his console to stay upright as another plasma beam slammed into the ship. He imagined he could feel the searing golden beam slicing through duranium and flesh like a knife through hot butter. Why haven’t they deployed their energy weapon yet? He thought darkly of the Breen ships that had ambushed them, and finished off properly?
“Mr. Reeves,” the captain’s voice sounded hoarse and far away, “status of our weapons systems?”
He squinted, rubbing the tears from his eyes, as he gazed down at the console again to make certain. “Quantum and photon torpedoes offline,” he said. “Our phaser banks are half-charged.”
“That’s something at least,” he heard Rear Admiral Kinnock say, “What about the Vyras?”
Reeves had routed sensor functions from the Operations console after the first attack from the Breen ships. The terminal had been demolished along with part of the main hull. Just beyond the rim of the smoke, Tom could see the stars. Force fields had prevented them all from asphyxiating, but it hadn’t saved the lives of the first officer or the ops officer before they had been sucked into the void.
“Sir, the Vyras has broken formation and is headed back toward the border,” he said, nervously licking his lips. His skin tasted like sweat and soot.
“Damn it,” Kinnock cursed. “Hail them!”
“Can’t sir, I’m communications system’s down,” Reeves said.
“Shit,” Kinnock added.
“That’s the least of our worries,” Tom was relieved to hear a bit more steel in the captain’s voice this time. “Evasive maneuvers.”
“But we’re dealing with cloaked ships,” Kinnock complained.
“All the better to be on guard,” Tallis replied. “Follow my orders ensign,” she snapped at the Helm Officer. Tom felt the ship creaking in response to the new commands. It sounded like the Diadem was coming apart at the seams.
“Mr. Daf,” the captain called out to the Trill standing in at the Auxiliary Engineering console. Together he and Reeves were sharing the workload from all of the redirected Ops console functions. “Prepare a tachyon beam, wide dispersal; let’s see if the Breen cloaks are immune to that.”
Seconds later another Breen ship decloaked, sniped at the Diadem, stitching its starboard flank. Tallis ordered the helm to turn hard to port, and commanded Tom to let loose on the warship, but it had faded away again before Reeves was able to get a shot off.
“Are you daft man?” The admiral shouted. Reeves heard heavy boots ringing up the metal walkway from the command well. Seconds later, a ruddy-faced Kinnock was standing over him. He jabbed a finger hard into his chest. “Are you trying to get us killed on purpose?” He pushed Reeves out of the way. “Go somewhere where you won’t cause any trouble!”
“That’s unnecessary,” Tallis called, but she hadn’t left the command well. More important things were happening than personally defending a subordinate’s competence was at stake. “Come back down here Nigel. Let Mr. Reeves and the others alone.”
“Need I remind you that I’m the highest ranking officer on this ship,” Kinnock snarled. “I’ll go anywhere, do anything I damn well please! Let me try to save you…us,” he added quickly, but not fast enough for Tom not to catch on. The sensors beeped as another ship materialized. The barrage was even more devastating; spinning Diadem around with such force that it flung Tom into the admiral. Both men crashed against the wall, and then rolled down the walkway, a mass of limbs and battered flesh.
“Sir, are you all right?” Tom untangled himself slowly, wincing in pain. He wiped dripping blood from his nose, and carefully ran his hands over the painful places on his body, checking for broken bones. For the most part, the admiral had broken his fall. Serves you right, Tom thought, before bile burned his throat. Kinnock remained sprawled at the base of the walkway, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle. “Oh God,” Tom whispered, crawling backward from the corpse. “Oh God.”
“Mr. Reeves?” The captain called out. She rushed through the smoke to kneel at the fallen admiral’s side. She cradled him, stroking the laurel of graying hair around his bald pate. She leaned down and whispered into the dead man’s ear. Then she stood up and gazed at Tom with a look more frigid than any Andorian winter. “Return to your post Mr. Reeves,” she said, the matter-of-fact tone of her voice making her expression even more chilling. “We have Breen to kill.”
*****************************************************************
Exarch-Class Cruiser Vyras
Command Salon
“Sir, I must protest!” Vizier Topal’s hands fluttered over his chest. “You and the royal family should be your quarters, surrounded by Paladins.”
“The last time I inquired, I was ruler of all Alshain!” Jedalla snapped. His queen, the imperious Symea stood silently at his side, her armor as blood red as Jedalla’s. “And I belong here, in the thick of battle, to live and die with my warriors, my people!” The bridge erupted into snarls and barking that rattled the more urbane advisor. Topal quickly bowed his head and offered his throat in supplication.
“As you wish milord,” he acquiesced.
“How goes the battle? And what of the Starfleet vessel?” He asked, looking around. Topal deferred to the ship’s commander, Nauarch Draco L’Dac. The smallish, white-furred admiral seemed totally overwhelmed by the medals running the length of his tunic.
“Milord,” L’Dac bowed. “We are still being pursued by the Breen. They are using cloaking technology that we have yet to penetrate.”
“How many casualties?” Symea asked. The admiral turned stiffly to her and also bowed before responding.
“Milady, we have not incurred many casualties. It is as if the Breen don’t want to destroy us, only incapacitate us.”
“I believe they are seeking to capture you sire,” Topal interjected. Jedalla growled and the vizier backed away.
“Is that your opinion as well Nauarch?”
“Yes milord, I concur with the Vizier,” L’Dac replied.
“And what of the Starfleet vessel?” Symea asked. L’Dac paused and turned to Topal. The vizier gulped before speaking.
“To insure a greater chance of survival, I ordered the Vyras to separate from the Diadem.”
“You what?” Jedalla roared, backhanding Topal with such force that the corpulent man fell to the floor. “We’re supposed to be showing the Federation that we are stalwart allies, and at the first opportunity to do so you order a retreat? Now I see why you wanted me holed up in my quarters, to hide your shame…your cowardice,” he spat, the fluid splashing against the still prone vizier.
“Milord, sacrificing yourself here would not serve your purposes,” Queen Symea interjected, placing a restraining hand on the exarch’s arm. “The Peerage was divided on joining the Federation Alliance. Your death might strengthen the hand of your enemies, and I fear that Jang is not ready to rule. Topal was only exercising caution, and looking out for your interests, as he has for your family for decades.”
Jedalla stood over the man, his nostrils flaring, his fists balled. “Doesn’t anyone understand that once the Diadem has been destroyed, the Breen will focus all of their firepower on us? We’ve only staved off execution, capture, or humiliation. Together, we might have been able to fend off the Breen. Even if we hadn’t…the Alshain people would’ve risen to take up our cause out of a need to avenge our deaths.”
Topal chanced a look up, “Milord, I couldn’t risk that. You are too essential.”
“Perhaps,” the Exarch replied coldly. “Now, get up.” Topal got to his feet slowly. Jedalla had already turned his back to him. He strode to the command chair at the center of the bridge. L’Dac scrambled out of it and Jedalla sat down. The admiral retreated to the bank of consoles lining both sides of the bridge. He surveyed the starfield displayed on the main viewer.
A Breen vessel wavered in front of them seconds later. “I’m detecting energy signatures commensurate with their dampening weapon,” one of the sensor officers said.
“Evasive,” L’Dac didn’t finish his sentence before the beam hit the Vyras. Jedalla closed his eyes, anticipating a hailstorm of destruction. He felt embarrassed seconds later when the admiral gasped, “No effect. Their weapon has no effect on our systems!”
********************************************************************
Shuttlecraft Pellinore
Lt. Commander Pell rode shotgun. Ensign Rojas sat uneasily behind Glover, monitoring the ship’s weapons and propulsion. Terrence’s focus was solely on the battle ahead. The message had been static-filled, but unmistakable: The Dominion had attacked the Diadem and the Vyras, obviously making a move against Alshain Exarch Jedalla in an attempt to scrap the upcoming summit on Earth.
The message had been repeating on a loop, but Juanita was able to narrow down the initial time it had been sent to less than twenty minutes. They were in such relatively close proximity to the convoy that they had perhaps were the first ones to receive the message.
Glover had ordered the ensign to clean it up as best as possible and then to relay it on. He knew that the Pellinore would be the first responder, but Terrence wasn’t under any illusions that he could hold off a Breen death squad, especially after the carnage at Chin’toka. But if he could hold them off long enough, perhaps a Starfleet taskforce could put down the bastards as they tried to sneak back across the border.
Pell upgrading the propulsion and weapons systems on the shuttle at least gave them a few minutes to harass the Breen if they were fortunate. “Sir, long range sensors are detecting two divergent ion trails, one of them Alshain,” Pell replied, her brow wrinkling as she frowned. “I think they separated from the Diadem.”
“Have these people ever heard of divide and conquer?” Terrence groused.
“Maybe not, they aren’t human after all,” Pell joked, but there was little mirth in her eyes.
“Perhaps they were trying to escape, to increase the chances of at least one ship making it,” Juanita offered. Glover eventually nodded in agreement.
“I guess that makes sense, but it doesn’t make our job any easier.”
“Nothing ever seems to sir,” Rojas added darkly.
“We’ve got a decision to make,” Terrence surmised. “We can only follow one trail, so do we go with our comrades or the Alshain.”
“Is there any real question sir?” Pell asked. “The outcome of the war is riding on Jedalla making it to the summit.”
“She’s right,” Juanita said. “I hate what’s probably going to happen to the Diadem and its crew, if it hasn’t happened already, but we’ve got to save the Alshain.”
“I know,” Glover said. “I just wanted to be sure you both understood the stakes. Pell, set a course based on the Alshain’s ion trail. I pray we aren’t too late.”
******************************************************************
Okay, so it's the admiral who's snuffed out first. Didn't see that coming. I'm still hoping the Diadem pulls through though.
Because, let's be honest, Terrence might be a great strategist but he's in shuttle. Against the Breen. A shuttle! I just can't stress that fact enough. It's a shuttle, people.
On the plus side. Once he comes out of this, and we know he will, he'll be a hero ... again.
Because, let's be honest, Terrence might be a great strategist but he's in shuttle. Against the Breen. A shuttle! I just can't stress that fact enough. It's a shuttle, people.
On the plus side. Once he comes out of this, and we know he will, he'll be a hero ... again.
Big action awaits us. The Breen have attacked ruthlessly and the Admiral bought it. Hadn't expected that. Was thinking for a moment he was in on it. You're really spinning a tale here. The Ashlain actions are not unified but multi layered and purposed. Adds to the gritty realism of it all. Very well done.
I look forward to seeing what stunt Glover pulls off. He might be egotistical and arrogant but he often deserves to be full of himself. Bring it on.
I look forward to seeing what stunt Glover pulls off. He might be egotistical and arrogant but he often deserves to be full of himself. Bring it on.
Terrence Glover = Big. Brass. Ones
Normally I'd write off any attempt to intervene in an attack by a Breen assault squadron, but where Glover's concerned, I'll have to give him the tiniest fraction of a percentage chance that he might turn the tide.
Now, if only Pell could find a way to supplement their shield power with Glover's ego, then they'd be unstoppable!
Normally I'd write off any attempt to intervene in an attack by a Breen assault squadron, but where Glover's concerned, I'll have to give him the tiniest fraction of a percentage chance that he might turn the tide.
Now, if only Pell could find a way to supplement their shield power with Glover's ego, then they'd be unstoppable!
Now, if only Pell could find a way to supplement their shield power with Glover's ego, then they'd be unstoppable!
Nice.
Very well done. Kinnock's death took me by surprise. Now, what can Glover do with a shuttle?
******************************************************************
USS Diadem
Main Bridge
“Sir, the tachyon beam is working,” Lt. Daf said with obvious relief. “We can track them captain.”
Thank God, Lt. Reeves thought, wiping a hand across his sweaty forehead. The fire suppressant system had wheezed back on, and had laboriously removed a great deal of the smoke from the bridge, though Tom didn’t think he would ever get the smell out of his nose or the rasp out of his throat.
“Mr. Reeves, target the Breen and fire,” Captain Tallis stood tall in front of her seat, her gaze unwavering at the flickering viewscreen.
“My pleasure,” Reeves said, activating the ship’s phaser banks. A fan of energy erupted from the Diadem impacting the shields of the cloaked vessels.
“Hit them harder!” Tallis snapped. Reeves complied, and the two T-winged battle cruisers flickered into existence. The two warships took up positions along the Diadem’s flanks, and began slugging away.
“Helm,” Tallis said, holding onto the armrests of her chair in a vain attempt to remain on her feet. “Get us the Hells out of here!”
“Aye sir!” The flight controller shouted. Tom now held on to his terminal again as the ship came about abruptly and shot away from the Breen at full impulse.
“At least we’ve knocked out both cloaks,” Reeves said, trying to cheer up the crew. “Well, I think.” Daf gave him a nervous grin in response.
“Now we have a semi-fair fight,” Tallis said. “I just wish we had a couple quantum torpedoes.”
“We do, we just can’t deliver them,” Reeves said.
“Sure we can,” Tallis turned to him, her eyes alight. “Not in the conventional way perhaps.”
“What do you have in mind sir?”
“Transport them off the ship, into the path of the Breen, and then we activate them.”
Not a bad plan, Reeves shrugged. He had to voice though, “Sir, we’ll have to deactivate our shields to beam them into the path of the Breen.”
“Risk is part of the game,” the Andorian replied.
Tom couldn’t really argue with that logic, especially with the feral look on the captain’s face. “Okay, sir, how many torpedoes should I prepare for transport?”
“All of them,” Tallis said. “The photons too. Let’s give those bastards the greatest fireworks display in their shortened lives.”
********************************************************************
Shuttlecraft Pellinore
Captain Glover stroked the mek’leth resting in his lap. In the interminable stretch of time since they had received the Diadem’s distress call, the trio had taken turns changing into their uniforms, the black and gray outfits perfectly reflecting the somber mood in the cabin. Terrence had also taken the gleaming, Klingon blade from his duffel bag. It had been a gift for his service aboard the I.K.S. Dorna as part of the officer exchange program years ago.
Something of a good look charm of sorts, Terrence was glad he had followed his gut and threw it in his bag. Though he might not get a chance to cleave through any Jem’Hadar or Breen with it, he could at least wield it as he entered the gates of Sto-Vo-Kor. Glover knew he would be at those gates soon. Terrence had escaped death quite a few times, and even before he joined Starfleet, but he didn’t see a way that he could alter the game in a poorly armed and shielded shuttle. It wouldn’t stop him from trying, but even he had to bow to the gravity of what they were facing.
Even as part of him did, the captain felt no fear. All he allowed himself to feel was rage. The black, oily sludge of hatred that had coated his insides since he had first learned of his wife’s injuries, ignited memories of Jasmine’s suffering mingled with thoughts of the last stands of Lt. Dryer and Commander Bheto, and Pedro’s final miracle. He burned with vengeance for what the Dominion had done to him and millions of others and if he had to die today, he promised his wrath would be felt by his enemies.
“I don’t know if the Prophets’ sense of humor could be so bleak,” Pell remarked, “Take a look out of the viewports.” Pell’s voice loosened the grip vengeance had on him, and Glover quickly looked out of the viewport facing him. The Alshain ship was listing to its starboard side with a Breen destroyer roosted above it like a scavenger trying to pick its bones. The captain could barely detect a lattice of cabling running from the Breen vessel to the Alshain cruiser. The Breen were also holding the ship with the use of a tractor beam. Both ships were surrounded in a cloud of debris.
“I’ll take over the flying duties now,” he said curtly, tapping in the changeover commands before Pell could respond. Dutifully, the Bajoran activated the shuttle’s tactical systems. “What are they doing Lt. Commander?”
“Sir,” Pell just as easily assumed her military posture, “It appears the Breen have latched onto the ship.”
“I can see that,” Glover replied. “I wonder why?”
“They want the Exarch,” Pell said after a few seconds. “They either want to kill him, humiliate him, or turn him against us.”
“We can’t let that happen,” Terrence glanced at her, his eyes as hard as stones. “We won’t let that happen.”
“Sir, sensors are detecting that the debris cloud is made of Breen detritus,” Ensign Rojas broke into the conversation.
Captain Glover grunted his approval. “The fur balls gave them hell huh? But there was one too many Breen warships I suppose. Let’s rectify that.”
“What do you suggest sir?” Pell asked.
“When will we be in firing range?”
“At current speed, ten seconds sir,” the Bajoran replied. Glover briefly looked back at Rojas.
“Ensign, what’s that debris field composed of?”
Juanita quickly rattled off the sensor’s findings, until Glover made her pause. “Say that again Ensign?” He asked.
“There is trilithium resin seepage from the wreckage,” She repeated.
“Enough to light a ring of fire around the vessels?” Glover asked Pell. The Bajoran took a look at the data on Juanita’s screen.
“I think so,” She nodded, her brown furrowing with concern. “But sir, whatever you’re thinking could imperil the Vyras as well.”
“No,” Terrence shook his head with certainty. “That will merely burn off those cables and perhaps disrupt the tractor beam. Now, my next idea, now that could endanger the Vyras,” Glover said, his lips pulled back to reveal a feral grin. “Just be glad you ate a light lunch.”
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USS Diadem
Main Bridge
From a safe distance, Captain Tallis watched the ship’s bevy of quantum and photon torpedoes shredded the Breen warships and the space around them. The remaining crew stood silently, many of them in shock and horror at terrible energies that consumed the enemy vessels. All Tallis felt was emptiness. Only more Breen corpses would fill the void inside her, the Andorian told herself. Thoughts of Nigel crashed against her veneer like angry waves smashing against a cliff’s rock face. And it made her wonder if there would ever be anything that could make her feel as whole as he did? And if not, what would killing more Breen accomplish?
The captain stared at the aftermath of the destruction. The light and fury had long dissipated and now the specks of the remaining ships littered the space behind them. “Captain,” Tom’s voice was as light as his touch. “Are you okay?”
Tallis laughed at the absurdity of the question. Then the tears began to flow and they never stopped.
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USS Diadem
Main Bridge
“Sir, the tachyon beam is working,” Lt. Daf said with obvious relief. “We can track them captain.”
Thank God, Lt. Reeves thought, wiping a hand across his sweaty forehead. The fire suppressant system had wheezed back on, and had laboriously removed a great deal of the smoke from the bridge, though Tom didn’t think he would ever get the smell out of his nose or the rasp out of his throat.
“Mr. Reeves, target the Breen and fire,” Captain Tallis stood tall in front of her seat, her gaze unwavering at the flickering viewscreen.
“My pleasure,” Reeves said, activating the ship’s phaser banks. A fan of energy erupted from the Diadem impacting the shields of the cloaked vessels.
“Hit them harder!” Tallis snapped. Reeves complied, and the two T-winged battle cruisers flickered into existence. The two warships took up positions along the Diadem’s flanks, and began slugging away.
“Helm,” Tallis said, holding onto the armrests of her chair in a vain attempt to remain on her feet. “Get us the Hells out of here!”
“Aye sir!” The flight controller shouted. Tom now held on to his terminal again as the ship came about abruptly and shot away from the Breen at full impulse.
“At least we’ve knocked out both cloaks,” Reeves said, trying to cheer up the crew. “Well, I think.” Daf gave him a nervous grin in response.
“Now we have a semi-fair fight,” Tallis said. “I just wish we had a couple quantum torpedoes.”
“We do, we just can’t deliver them,” Reeves said.
“Sure we can,” Tallis turned to him, her eyes alight. “Not in the conventional way perhaps.”
“What do you have in mind sir?”
“Transport them off the ship, into the path of the Breen, and then we activate them.”
Not a bad plan, Reeves shrugged. He had to voice though, “Sir, we’ll have to deactivate our shields to beam them into the path of the Breen.”
“Risk is part of the game,” the Andorian replied.
Tom couldn’t really argue with that logic, especially with the feral look on the captain’s face. “Okay, sir, how many torpedoes should I prepare for transport?”
“All of them,” Tallis said. “The photons too. Let’s give those bastards the greatest fireworks display in their shortened lives.”
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Shuttlecraft Pellinore
Captain Glover stroked the mek’leth resting in his lap. In the interminable stretch of time since they had received the Diadem’s distress call, the trio had taken turns changing into their uniforms, the black and gray outfits perfectly reflecting the somber mood in the cabin. Terrence had also taken the gleaming, Klingon blade from his duffel bag. It had been a gift for his service aboard the I.K.S. Dorna as part of the officer exchange program years ago.
Something of a good look charm of sorts, Terrence was glad he had followed his gut and threw it in his bag. Though he might not get a chance to cleave through any Jem’Hadar or Breen with it, he could at least wield it as he entered the gates of Sto-Vo-Kor. Glover knew he would be at those gates soon. Terrence had escaped death quite a few times, and even before he joined Starfleet, but he didn’t see a way that he could alter the game in a poorly armed and shielded shuttle. It wouldn’t stop him from trying, but even he had to bow to the gravity of what they were facing.
Even as part of him did, the captain felt no fear. All he allowed himself to feel was rage. The black, oily sludge of hatred that had coated his insides since he had first learned of his wife’s injuries, ignited memories of Jasmine’s suffering mingled with thoughts of the last stands of Lt. Dryer and Commander Bheto, and Pedro’s final miracle. He burned with vengeance for what the Dominion had done to him and millions of others and if he had to die today, he promised his wrath would be felt by his enemies.
“I don’t know if the Prophets’ sense of humor could be so bleak,” Pell remarked, “Take a look out of the viewports.” Pell’s voice loosened the grip vengeance had on him, and Glover quickly looked out of the viewport facing him. The Alshain ship was listing to its starboard side with a Breen destroyer roosted above it like a scavenger trying to pick its bones. The captain could barely detect a lattice of cabling running from the Breen vessel to the Alshain cruiser. The Breen were also holding the ship with the use of a tractor beam. Both ships were surrounded in a cloud of debris.
“I’ll take over the flying duties now,” he said curtly, tapping in the changeover commands before Pell could respond. Dutifully, the Bajoran activated the shuttle’s tactical systems. “What are they doing Lt. Commander?”
“Sir,” Pell just as easily assumed her military posture, “It appears the Breen have latched onto the ship.”
“I can see that,” Glover replied. “I wonder why?”
“They want the Exarch,” Pell said after a few seconds. “They either want to kill him, humiliate him, or turn him against us.”
“We can’t let that happen,” Terrence glanced at her, his eyes as hard as stones. “We won’t let that happen.”
“Sir, sensors are detecting that the debris cloud is made of Breen detritus,” Ensign Rojas broke into the conversation.
Captain Glover grunted his approval. “The fur balls gave them hell huh? But there was one too many Breen warships I suppose. Let’s rectify that.”
“What do you suggest sir?” Pell asked.
“When will we be in firing range?”
“At current speed, ten seconds sir,” the Bajoran replied. Glover briefly looked back at Rojas.
“Ensign, what’s that debris field composed of?”
Juanita quickly rattled off the sensor’s findings, until Glover made her pause. “Say that again Ensign?” He asked.
“There is trilithium resin seepage from the wreckage,” She repeated.
“Enough to light a ring of fire around the vessels?” Glover asked Pell. The Bajoran took a look at the data on Juanita’s screen.
“I think so,” She nodded, her brown furrowing with concern. “But sir, whatever you’re thinking could imperil the Vyras as well.”
“No,” Terrence shook his head with certainty. “That will merely burn off those cables and perhaps disrupt the tractor beam. Now, my next idea, now that could endanger the Vyras,” Glover said, his lips pulled back to reveal a feral grin. “Just be glad you ate a light lunch.”
*****************************************************************
USS Diadem
Main Bridge
From a safe distance, Captain Tallis watched the ship’s bevy of quantum and photon torpedoes shredded the Breen warships and the space around them. The remaining crew stood silently, many of them in shock and horror at terrible energies that consumed the enemy vessels. All Tallis felt was emptiness. Only more Breen corpses would fill the void inside her, the Andorian told herself. Thoughts of Nigel crashed against her veneer like angry waves smashing against a cliff’s rock face. And it made her wonder if there would ever be anything that could make her feel as whole as he did? And if not, what would killing more Breen accomplish?
The captain stared at the aftermath of the destruction. The light and fury had long dissipated and now the specks of the remaining ships littered the space behind them. “Captain,” Tom’s voice was as light as his touch. “Are you okay?”
Tallis laughed at the absurdity of the question. Then the tears began to flow and they never stopped.
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Terrence is the man with the plan. And he's got enough anger and need for vengeance to dispose of a dozen Breen ships. Whatever he's got up his sleeve, I betcha it's gonna be fun.
Diadem pulls through. Another win for the good guys. But at a high price for her brave captain. I wonder how her emotional outburst in front of her crew is going to affect her duties from now on.
One thing that bothers me here, and it's got nothing to do with the story per se. Just a Trek thing that has nagged me for a while. Why can't you beam through your own shields, anyway? You can fire your weapons through them. How hard would it be to create little holes or whatever through which you could beam through? I know, this is not the right place for this conversation. Just a little pet peeve of mine.
Diadem pulls through. Another win for the good guys. But at a high price for her brave captain. I wonder how her emotional outburst in front of her crew is going to affect her duties from now on.
One thing that bothers me here, and it's got nothing to do with the story per se. Just a Trek thing that has nagged me for a while. Why can't you beam through your own shields, anyway? You can fire your weapons through them. How hard would it be to create little holes or whatever through which you could beam through? I know, this is not the right place for this conversation. Just a little pet peeve of mine.
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I almost feel sorry for the Breen, they won't get to learn why they made a mistake in pissing off Terrence Glover.
There's no canon reason for not beaming through shields, maybe you just can't/couldn't manipulate them enough in the past.
There's no canon reason for not beaming through shields, maybe you just can't/couldn't manipulate them enough in the past.
Excellent stuff. In particular, I liked the imagery used to describe the Breen roosted above the Ashlain ship like a scavenger. Great action all round. And look forward to seeing what trick Glover has up his sleeve.
Thanks for reading and commenting. I'm really pleased at the reaction to this story. I had intended for it to be short-the first piece of a much bigger story, but with all of the interest and excitement, it's really got me to thinking to how I can make this story stand in its own right. But I still intend to do a second and third part.
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Shuttlecraft Pellinore
Even though Ensign Rojas had a solid grip on her console, her stomach still twisted in knots as Glover pushed the tiny craft toward the Breen destroyer.
She knew it was selfish to think of at a time like this, especially after Pedro, but Juanita didn’t want to die. Not for the Federation, not for duty, or honor, or any of those other abstract concepts her instructors told her were so worthy to die for at the Academy. For the most part she had slept or doodled during most of those speeches and lectures. For the ones that she had actually been awake for, she had disagreed with.
Even after graduating on the eve of war, she had always known that serving with Pedro and Captain Glover, that they would protect her. The two men were invincible, or so she had thought. But now her big brother was dead, and she didn’t feel ennobled at all by his sacrifice, just hurt, lonely, vulnerable, and scared.
She felt bad for feeling that way, but Juanita also knew that Pedro would understand. He saw behind the bull, one of the reasons why he probably hadn’t made it to captain. That made Juanita wonder how Captain Glover had made it, since he didn’t seem too fond of eggshell walking or kissing ass either. Being an admiral’s son carried you far, but not to the captain’s chair always, especially with Captain Glover’s penchant for speaking his mind.
Juanita wondered if crazy plans like the one Glover had concocted, showing off the prized original thinking her instructors had always been crowing about, was the special ingredient. Pedro had told her enough stories about the scrapes he and the captain had gotten through to give her the confidence than even this plan might work, and maybe it was that kind of assurance, in the face of all doubt, that got Captain Glover the center seat. She hoped she lived long enough to confirm her theory.
“We are now in weapons range,” Lt. Commander Pell replied, both her voice and face the picture of serenity.
“Target the debris field, any patch of fuel you can find,” Glover said. “Ensign, I want you to transfer all shielding to the forward shields.”
“Aye sir,” Juanita replied, as the shuttle hurtled forward.
“Done,” Pell said tightly.
“Fire,” the captain ordered. Twin streaks shot from the Pellinore’s flanks in staccato bursts. The beams contacted the pools of trilithium resin sparking river of fire around both vessels. Glover chuckled. “We got them.”
“Tractor beam has been disabled,” Pell said with satisfaction. “Damn,” she muttered seconds later, “There were several transports from the Breen ship onto the Vyras.”
“Breen vessel is disconnecting from the Vyras,” Juanita called out. “They are angling in our direction.”
“Full warp for ramming speed, full power to forward shields,” Glover commanded. “Those assholes aren’t getting away!”
Juanita input the captain’s commands and closed her eyes to pray as the Pellinore shot forward, through the ring of fire. The corrugated ventral hull of the Breen vessel filled the screen, and then in a rush of images and the scream of metal and proximity alerts, everything quickly faded to nothing.
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***************************************************************
Shuttlecraft Pellinore
Even though Ensign Rojas had a solid grip on her console, her stomach still twisted in knots as Glover pushed the tiny craft toward the Breen destroyer.
She knew it was selfish to think of at a time like this, especially after Pedro, but Juanita didn’t want to die. Not for the Federation, not for duty, or honor, or any of those other abstract concepts her instructors told her were so worthy to die for at the Academy. For the most part she had slept or doodled during most of those speeches and lectures. For the ones that she had actually been awake for, she had disagreed with.
Even after graduating on the eve of war, she had always known that serving with Pedro and Captain Glover, that they would protect her. The two men were invincible, or so she had thought. But now her big brother was dead, and she didn’t feel ennobled at all by his sacrifice, just hurt, lonely, vulnerable, and scared.
She felt bad for feeling that way, but Juanita also knew that Pedro would understand. He saw behind the bull, one of the reasons why he probably hadn’t made it to captain. That made Juanita wonder how Captain Glover had made it, since he didn’t seem too fond of eggshell walking or kissing ass either. Being an admiral’s son carried you far, but not to the captain’s chair always, especially with Captain Glover’s penchant for speaking his mind.
Juanita wondered if crazy plans like the one Glover had concocted, showing off the prized original thinking her instructors had always been crowing about, was the special ingredient. Pedro had told her enough stories about the scrapes he and the captain had gotten through to give her the confidence than even this plan might work, and maybe it was that kind of assurance, in the face of all doubt, that got Captain Glover the center seat. She hoped she lived long enough to confirm her theory.
“We are now in weapons range,” Lt. Commander Pell replied, both her voice and face the picture of serenity.
“Target the debris field, any patch of fuel you can find,” Glover said. “Ensign, I want you to transfer all shielding to the forward shields.”
“Aye sir,” Juanita replied, as the shuttle hurtled forward.
“Done,” Pell said tightly.
“Fire,” the captain ordered. Twin streaks shot from the Pellinore’s flanks in staccato bursts. The beams contacted the pools of trilithium resin sparking river of fire around both vessels. Glover chuckled. “We got them.”
“Tractor beam has been disabled,” Pell said with satisfaction. “Damn,” she muttered seconds later, “There were several transports from the Breen ship onto the Vyras.”
“Breen vessel is disconnecting from the Vyras,” Juanita called out. “They are angling in our direction.”
“Full warp for ramming speed, full power to forward shields,” Glover commanded. “Those assholes aren’t getting away!”
Juanita input the captain’s commands and closed her eyes to pray as the Pellinore shot forward, through the ring of fire. The corrugated ventral hull of the Breen vessel filled the screen, and then in a rush of images and the scream of metal and proximity alerts, everything quickly faded to nothing.
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Ah wow. Another exciting segment. Nicely done. Wonder what those transports were all about. More intrigue. Me likey.
Also nice to see how Junitia's world view has been rocked in lots of different way's by Pedro's death. The fact that she felt him to be invincible and clearly wasn't is bound to be world rocking. Again nicely done.
Also nice to see how Junitia's world view has been rocked in lots of different way's by Pedro's death. The fact that she felt him to be invincible and clearly wasn't is bound to be world rocking. Again nicely done.
Ah, ramming them, eh? Always a greatly insane plan. Let's see how that's going to work out.
I just realized I like Juanita. It's very human not wanting to die. We've got to many wannabe heroes who are all to ready to lay down their life at a moment's notice for some cause or another. This is refreshingly different. And it feels genuine.
I just realized I like Juanita. It's very human not wanting to die. We've got to many wannabe heroes who are all to ready to lay down their life at a moment's notice for some cause or another. This is refreshingly different. And it feels genuine.
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