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Alshain Starforce Destroyer Bonecrusher
Slayer-Class
“Garrm smiles,” Kveld Rask replied.
“Indeed he positively laughs,” Suthar R’Vort added. The Ariane lit up like a spit of meat on the main viewer. “Have they raised shields or weapons?” She asked, her eagerness almost overtaking her.
“No,” Weapons Officer P’Orus replied tersely, his ears pinned back on his head. The heady musk of anticipation filled the command salon.
“Power our forward disruptors,” R’Vort said quickly, fearful that their good fortune would soon evaporate. “I want our first strike to devastate them.” Rask grinned and nodded, fully in the moment.
“Offensive systems charged,” P’Orus replied.
“Fire,” R’Vort commanded.
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USS Ariane
Main Bridge
Commander Simcoe first heard a light tapping, and then a furious buzzing, and then he found himself on the deck. The acrid odor of smoke and burned circuits tore at his eyes and invaded his nostrils. Coughing, Simcoe got on all fours. “What happened?” The engineer said, before smoke poured into his mouth. Still gagging he wiped away tears and stood up. The ship rattled again, and this time he knew what the cause of it was. But Simcoe still couldn’t fathom it, “We’re under attack?” He looked around, squinting through the flames and smoke.
“Captain!” Simcoe heard a roar, and then he was off his feet again, a sinewy mass shoving him hard onto the ground before collapsing on him. Wheezing, trying to draw breath back into his lungs, Simcoe fought against the strong grip pressing against him. Panicking, he screamed, punched, and dug his fingers into it, feeling rough cloth and pliant flesh.
“Get…off…me,” he gasped, before the smoke robbed him of speech again. With the smoke clogging her nostrils and mouth, and the weight still depressing against her chest, Simcoe flailed madly, knowing he was about to suffocate.
“Easy captain,” Simcoe thought he heard a voice from far off, something on the rim of the darkness swimming before her, the black that was inviting him in. The weight came off him and he balled up, hacking as he grasped for oxygen. “Here, captain,” the gas mask fell into his lap. Simcoe scrambled to put it on and sucked greedily at the cleaned, though bitter air, coming through the filters.
He blinked several times to clear her vision. Through the haze Simcoe saw Lt. Askew. She was holding the legs of the person that had been holding him down. He rubbed his eyes, squinting from the smoke. Simcoe realized seconds later it was Lt. Phelan, and the Phalkerian was unconscious. He also saw a large gash running down the back of his uniform, with thick drops of violet blood splashing onto the deck. Just beyond the duo he saw a jagged piece of bulkhead hanging from the ceiling and dug into the deck. Phelan had saved his life. He had pushed Simcoe out of the way of that swinging bulkhead shard and got nearly vivisected in the process. A scream rent through the sounds of crackling circuit boards and agonized moaning. Maggie Grayson, one side of her face and body severely burned, dragged herself through the smoke. She fell at Phelan’s side, wailing again as she cradled him.
Simcoe reached out for the unconscious and probably dying man. Lt. Askew, a crown of blood seeping along her forehead, batted Simcoe’s hand away. “No time,” she said tersely. He had never heard such iron in the woman’s voice, “We’ve got to abandon ship.”
“No,” Simcoe said adamantly, her voice reverberating in her ears due to the mask. “I won’t leave my crew.”
“What crew?” Askew said bitterly. “Most of them are dead already.” Simcoe’s cry hitched in his throat and his eyes moistened. The engineer glanced around and from what he could see through the smoke, he knew the Science Officer’s harsh assessment was true. “We’ve got to get out of here, and warn the others.”
“What about countermeasures, we can still fight back?”
Askew scoffed, “Whoever hit us, knew where and how, and boy did they do it good. On the first strike they took out our weapons, the second propulsion, and our shielding, already shaky to begin with, just buckled. We’re defenseless Barry.”
“How?” Simcoe asked, dumbfounded. “They just struck us.”
“It seems that way to you,” Askew said, frowning. She reached for his head. He shrank back. She stopped, but angled her head as she regarded him. “Phelan saved your life but I think he gave you a nasty concussion in the process.”
“But…what about our attackers?” He glanced at the screen and through the static he could just barely make out the bronze, catamaran hull of an Alshain cruiser. “Alshain?” He asked, shocked. “This is payback, they’ve come for revenge,” he reasoned.
“We don’t have time for this,” Askew reached for him, but Simcoe pulled back. He scooted back until he bumped against the end of the bulkhead shard. He used it to pull himself up and he crawled over it back to the command chair. “Sir, what are you doing?” Askew asked, with a sigh.
“Surrendering,” he muttered. “We won’t stand a chance out in the Cluster anyway. Our pods don’t have enough shielding.”
“It’s a better bet than giving ourselves to the Alshain,” Askew countered. “I have no desire to be a menu item.”
“That’s…offensive,” He snorted, laughing at his humor. He toggled open a communication line, surprised and happy that it still worked. “This is Commander Barry Simcoe, USS Ariane, to Alshain vessel,” he called out. “Cease firing at once. We wish…to offer our surrender.”
“Like Hell you do!” A voice boomed across the bridge. Captain Brennan, dark smudges across her face, dropped from a Jeffries tube hatch over the turbolift. She landed awkwardly, but recovered quickly. She tugged on her uniform. “I’ll never surrender to them.”
“Captain Brennan,” Simcoe said, beyond the capacity for shock at the moment. “It’s the only chance.”
“No,” Another voice issued from the tube. Commander M’Vess exited it, landing more gracefully. “That Alshain commander means to kill us, and we won’t stroke their ego by begging for our lives. On this, I am in agreement with the captain.” Brennan turned to M’Vess and haltingly squeezed her shoulder.
“Not quite, I want you to get as many people off this ship as you can,” Brennan said. “This is my fight.”
“You’re not in command anymore,” M’Vess stood her ground.
“And neither are you,” Simcoe spoke up. “I am, and I agree with Captain Brennan.” Brennan regarded him with a sad smile.
“Good old Barry,” Brennan said. “M’Vess, you heard the man, get out of here.” M’Vess started to reply when the main viewer crackled and a fierce, furred visage shown through the wall of static.
“Starfleet vessel, where is Captain Brennan?”
“I am right here,” Brennan stepped down into the command well, navigating around the downed bulkhead. “I demand you stop firing on my vessel. It’s me you want, well, I’ll surrender only if you halt your attack.”
“I won’t be dictated to by you human,” the Alshain commander sneered.
“You will if,” Brennan’s last words were lost in the whine of a transporter effect. M’Vess easily jumped down into the command well, reaching through the last sparkles of the transporter.
“No!” She growled.
“Now, Ariane, prepare to be destroyed,” the Alshain commander promised. M’Vess kept her eyes locked on the Alshain, but she said:
“Barry, Rhonda, and Maggie, get moving.”
“I’m not leaving Phelan,” Maggie spoke up, her voice cracking.
“And we’re not leaving you,” Simcoe said. “Right, Rhonda?”
“Suit yourself,” Askew said. “But I don’t think this needs to be a last stand.”
“Thanks for following orders,” M’Vess said. “Make it back to Federation space and tell Command what has transpired here today.”
“I’ll do my best,” The Science Officer promised. She reached out to Simcoe but he shrugged away the gesture. “Good luck to you all,” she said before turning away.
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USS Ariane
Autonomous Survival and Recovery Vehicles
Primary Hull Section
Lt. Askew crawled quickly out of the Jeffries tube, landing in front of the row of ASRVs that had not yet been launched. Adrenaline coursing through her system, she was fearful that the Alshain would let loose and destroy the ship at any second. Her survival instinct was overwhelming the gorge stirring in her stomach at the prospect of leaving her friends behind. But it made no sense to die foolishly here. She had seen too much needless death during the war and she didn’t feel the need to add her name to the list.
She hurried over to an escape pod and began accessing the entry hatch. A familiar voice interrupted her, “Rhonda?”
She looked up and smiled. It was Kellas, and a limping Sinal had his arm hooked around her neck. “Great minds think alike huh?” The Ktarian asked. Behind the medic were a few more stragglers.
“Something like that,” Askew said before returning to the instrument panel.
“What about the others?” Sinal wheezed. Askew ignored him, fighting back her tears, “They didn’t make it, did they?” The Suliban asked. Askew lowered her head, unable to answer him. She heard a loud hitch and then soft sobbing from the man. The hatch hissed open. Askew stood to the side and urged everyone inside.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” she pressed. “We’ve got to go! Now !”
“You heard the lady,” Sinal rallied. “Let’s roll on people.”
Kellas helped as many people as she could, and idled until it was just her and Askew at the entry. The Ktarian leaned forward. “What really happened? On the bridge?”
“I’ll tell you later,” Askew lied as she pushed the woman inside, “Once we’re safe.”
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Alshain Starforce Destroyer Bonecrusher
Slayer-Class
The metallic tang of the human’s blood was divine. Brennan was on all fours, crimson fluid splashing onto the deck from the gash running across her chest. Sutahr R’Vort had to indulge herself, digging her claws into the insolent human, once she dared make demands upon her after R’Vort had beamed her aboard the Bonecrusher.
Brennan had wished to argue for the life of her crew and R’Vort wasn’t going to have any of that. It had felt wonderful, her claws slicing through fabric and flesh, the air perfumed by the spray of the woman’s blood. It had taken all of her willpower not to go at the woman’s throat. And from the soft keening issuing from around the command salon, R’Vort knew that her fellow warriors shared her desire. “Please,” Brennan muttered, “Please…”
Sutahr R’Vort snorted in disgust. “You should be honored to be defeated by a superior foe,” she spat. “How you bested the Excise, I can’t fathom, but your reign of terror ends now.” Brennan looked up at her, her eyes wide with fear. She reached out for R’Vort’s knees, but the commander kicked her back down to the deck. She reached down, clutching the human’s head like a melon and craning her neck up toward the main viewer. “It’s time to end this, and I want you to see the destruction of your vessel with your own eyes.”
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