Tales of the USS Bluefin - 8: "Stand-off!"
- Thread starter TheLoneRedshirt
- Start date
This one is really bringing out the fighters in everyone.
And ships blowing up left and right. At this rate I'd be suprised if there'll be anyone left (besides Bluefin, bruised and banged up as usual) once this is all over.
But first they gotta stop that cruise ship somehow. I really hope it won't come to the final Resolute-tion.
And ships blowing up left and right. At this rate I'd be suprised if there'll be anyone left (besides Bluefin, bruised and banged up as usual) once this is all over.
But first they gotta stop that cruise ship somehow. I really hope it won't come to the final Resolute-tion.
Chapter Twenty
Stardate 54246.8 (2 April 2377)
SS Queen Elizabeth VII
Sector 04340 - Warp 9
Deck 10, Section H, Midships
The Criswells hurried to Bane's side, Vincent placing two fingers to the young Lieutenant's neck.
"He's got a pulse - thank God for that! And he's breathing, too. Check his scanner, Pat."
Mrs. Criswell turned her attention to the combat scanner strapped to Bane's left forearm.
"Fried," she announced. "The disruptor bolt frinxed it good."
"Try the distress signal - it uses a flash source and should've been shielded from the bolt."
The combat scanner was not significantly different from the scanners they had used in the Corps. After a moment, they were rewarded with a steady "beep."
"Got it!" she said, pleased with herself. "That should get a corpsman shagging ass over here!"
"That's no language for a lady!" said Vince with a grin. Pat popped him on the back of the head.
"Ow!" he said, still grinning. "What the hell was that for?"
"General principles," she replied, grinning back at her husband and brother-in-arms.
Momentarily, they heard approaching footfalls. Another black-clad Border Dog appeared. He pulled up sharply, his phaser carbine leveled at the Criswells.
"Stand-down, god-dammit," rumbled Vince Criswell. "and get over here and help your Lieutenant - he caught a disruptor bolt but he's still alive! Looks like his armor saved his ass."
CPO Deryx approached cautiously, surprised to see the white-haired couple kneeling by the lieutenant and equally surprised by the commanding voice of the man - he sounded like a non-com.
"I'm Chief Deryx - Border Service." He lowered the carbine fractionally but kept it at the ready. "Who are you?"
"We're frakkin' tourists!" announced Pat, beginning to lose patience. "Now get your foot off your crank and get over here! Are you a corpsman?"
Deryx figured if they were Maquis, he was a green Orion slave girl. He moved forward, dropping down beside the fallen officer. "No, I'm no corpsman, but I can get one here pretty damn quick!" He tapped a text message into his scanner, then checked over the Lieutenant. Satisfied that Bane was alive and breathing, though still unconscious, he turned his attention back to the Criswells.
"You guys Starfleet?" he asked.
Vince snorted and Patricia barked a short laugh. "Hell, no, Doggy, we're no 'Fleeters! The missus and I are Marines - currently inactive." In the Criswell's vocabulary, there were no such things as 'ex' or 'retired' Marines.
Deryx grinned at the "Doggy" reference a common Marine nick-name for Border Service personnel. That, more than anything, convinced him they were indeed who they claimed.
"Mind telling me what the hell happened here?" asked the Denobulan CPO.
The Criswells shared their experiences, from the initial takeover by the Maquis, to their escape from the dining room and their encounter with Kenda Byress.
"Your lieutenant, here, saved our asses, Chief!" said Vince, looking at the young officer with a mix of admiration and concern. "He broke cover and drew fire away from Pat - and got himself shot in the process."
"Well, nobody said officers were real bright," observed Deryx. The Criswells nodded in agreement.
* * *
Bluefin Team One, Deck 22
Commander Strauss, SCPO Brin and Corpsman Sanders moved deeper into the bowels of the massive starliner. They had successfully liberated 38 of the Queen Elizabeth's crew. One Maquis died in the brief skirmish, making the foolish mistake of charging at Senior Chief Brin. Mercifully for the terrorist, he was dead before he hit the ground, Brin's long-bladed knife protruding from his left eye socket.
Strauss turned command of the liner's crew to a young lieutenant. Now, armed with the terrorists' weapons plus knives and make-shift clubs, they were on their own mission to liberate the rest of the crew.
Descending a steep ladder, the trio from the Bluefin all paused as their combat scanners vibrated with an in-coming distress signal. Inga's breath caught in her throat as she saw that the signal came from Nigel Bane.
Brin gently placed a hand on her arm. "Hey, Commander! The Lieutenant's alive - we wouldn't be receivin' the distress signal otherwise. A corpsman will get to him quick - it'll be okay."
She bobbed her head and smiled gamely, touched at how this burly warrior could exhibit such concern. "Thanks, Solly. I'm sure you're right. Come on - we've got to rendezvous with Commander Galvani's team at main engineering. Time is running out and we've got to eject that warp core!"
* * *
Sequoia Team Alpha, Deck 24
Commander Maria Galvani knelt beside the Ukranian CPO, who was frowning at his scanner.
"What do we have, Chief?" she whispered. They were now only a dozen meters from the massive double doors to main engineering.
"Twelve life-signs and multiple energy weapons. What concerns me is if we start a fire-fight in there. One stray round in the wrong place could start a warp-core breach. Then it's goodbye to all of us!"
Galvani frowned at the news. "Wouldn't the computer automatically jetison the warp core in case of a breach?"
Kasparov shrugged. "The Maquis have already messed with most of the control systems and our Mark 22's didn't help. I wouldn't bet my life on the safety protocols working."
The Sequoia's XO checked her chronometer. "We have less than 45 minutes, Chief. We're going to have to risk it before the Resolute takes the decision out of our hands."
* * *
Stardate 54246.9 (2 April 2377)
USS Sequoia
Sector 04340 - damaged and adrift
Four figures in environmental suits materialized on the remains of the Sequoia's bridge. Captain Akinola, Dr. Castille, Crewman Norris and Petty Officer Cookie Marino looked around in hushed awe at the monstrous destruction of the cutter's control center. A large, gaping hole opened their view to the void where the main viewer was once located. A faint blue glow was the only indication of the emergency force-field that prevented the unconscious occupants of the bridge from being sucked into the vacuum of space.
"Spread out and tend to the wounded," ordered Akinola, somberly. His eyes caught sight of an arm protruding from beneath a pile of ceiling panels and a structural beam.
"Cookie! Give me a hand!"
The portly ship's cook joined Akinola and together, they moved debris aside to reveal the still form of Captain D'Angelo.
"Doc!" called Akinola. Castille joined them, kneeling as he ran a medical tri-corder over the unconscious captain.
"He's alive, but just barely. Let's beam him directly to sickbay. I've already activated the EMH."
Seconds after contacting the Bluefin, Captain D'Angelo disappeared in the shimmer of the transporter beam, whisked away to sickbay. Akinola, Castille and the others turned their attention back to the rest of the injured bridge crew.
* * *
Lt. Commander T'Ser, Ensign Ryan and Corpsman N'gali materialized outside of Sequoia's engineering section.
"Radiation levels normal, atmosphere is within acceptable range" commented T'Ser. With that determined, the trio deactivated the force-fields that served as faceplates on their helmets. "Let's check out engineering."
They moved toward the double doors, which remained obstinately closed.
"Jammed," muttered T'Ser. "Ensign, try the hyper-jack and get the doors opened. N'gali check the rest of the deck for casualties, then get back to us."
Ensign Ryan pumped the hyper-jack in a slot by the doors. At first, nothing happened. Then an audible pop and creak emanated from the doors, which began to slowly slide open.
As soon as the opening was wide enough, T'Ser slipped through into engineering.
Leaning against one of the consoles was an older male Trill with lieutenant commander pips on his collar. T'Ser hurried by his side. The Trill blinked at her blearily, obviously dazed and in shock.
"I'm Lt. Commander T'Ser from the Bluefin," she said gently. "Are you injured?"
The Trill seemed to rally and attempted to regain his feet. T'Ser helped him to a chair.
"I'm alright - just banged up a bit." Realization and a look of sudden concern crossed his face. "The ship? . . ."
She smiled. "You're still in one piece . . . well, mostly. Most of the damage appears to be forward and to the bridge." She patted his shoulder reassuringly. "You did well, Commander. The warp core is intact and the ship appears stable for the moment. We're tending to the wounded first, then we'll begin securing the ship."
"Thanks - I'm Carn Lorvis, Chief Engineer, by the way. I apologize for my appearance . . ." he gestured to the tear to his left sleeve. A nasty looking bruise discolored the exposed flesh.
A sudden thought came to Lorvis and his brow furrowed. "What of the bridge crew? The Captain . . .?"
T'Ser forced a smile. "Our Captain is up there now with a rescue party. They're in good hands." She looked up as Corpsman N'gali walked in, followed by several dazed but ambulatory crewmen. She gestured for the corpsman, grateful for the interruption.
"Commander, this is Corpsman N'gali - he's going to check that arm out for you. Excuse me while I check out the ship's systems and begin an inventory of the damage."
* * *
Stardate 54246.9 (2 April 2377)
Tzen-kethi vessel, Blood Claw
Brez-Krill system, outer perimeter
Chuft Captain Gravaz g'Rivenn sat brooding in his private chambers, watching a tactical display that showed the approaching Federation vessels. He had noted with surprise the battles that had occurred, resulting in the destruction of at least three ships - possibly a fourth.
He was loathe to admit that he was puzzled by what he observed. Rather than the probing incursion he anticipated, he was puzzled that the Federation ships would turn on one another in such a violent manner. Part of him both admired and envied the combat - his own battle lust began to grow with each passing moment.
Now, he tried to interpret the tactical data he collected. Several scenarios crossed his mind: An outbreak of a civil war in the Federation? Unlikely. A ruse to distract the Tzen-kethi battle group? To what end? The Tzen-Kethi were now on a heightened war-footing, more than prepared for the few ships that hurtled their way.
What is happening over there? The grizzled veteran of numerous campaigns was at a loss to explain the bizarre behavior of those Federation ships. Perhaps they had simply gone mad.
He growled in frustration and stood. No matter - in less than one cycle, we will meet this bizarre incursion head-on, giving no quarter and showing no mercy!
* * *
Stardate 54246.8 (2 April 2377)
SS Queen Elizabeth VII
Sector 04340 - Warp 9
Deck 10, Section H, Midships
The Criswells hurried to Bane's side, Vincent placing two fingers to the young Lieutenant's neck.
"He's got a pulse - thank God for that! And he's breathing, too. Check his scanner, Pat."
Mrs. Criswell turned her attention to the combat scanner strapped to Bane's left forearm.
"Fried," she announced. "The disruptor bolt frinxed it good."
"Try the distress signal - it uses a flash source and should've been shielded from the bolt."
The combat scanner was not significantly different from the scanners they had used in the Corps. After a moment, they were rewarded with a steady "beep."
"Got it!" she said, pleased with herself. "That should get a corpsman shagging ass over here!"
"That's no language for a lady!" said Vince with a grin. Pat popped him on the back of the head.
"Ow!" he said, still grinning. "What the hell was that for?"
"General principles," she replied, grinning back at her husband and brother-in-arms.
Momentarily, they heard approaching footfalls. Another black-clad Border Dog appeared. He pulled up sharply, his phaser carbine leveled at the Criswells.
"Stand-down, god-dammit," rumbled Vince Criswell. "and get over here and help your Lieutenant - he caught a disruptor bolt but he's still alive! Looks like his armor saved his ass."
CPO Deryx approached cautiously, surprised to see the white-haired couple kneeling by the lieutenant and equally surprised by the commanding voice of the man - he sounded like a non-com.
"I'm Chief Deryx - Border Service." He lowered the carbine fractionally but kept it at the ready. "Who are you?"
"We're frakkin' tourists!" announced Pat, beginning to lose patience. "Now get your foot off your crank and get over here! Are you a corpsman?"
Deryx figured if they were Maquis, he was a green Orion slave girl. He moved forward, dropping down beside the fallen officer. "No, I'm no corpsman, but I can get one here pretty damn quick!" He tapped a text message into his scanner, then checked over the Lieutenant. Satisfied that Bane was alive and breathing, though still unconscious, he turned his attention back to the Criswells.
"You guys Starfleet?" he asked.
Vince snorted and Patricia barked a short laugh. "Hell, no, Doggy, we're no 'Fleeters! The missus and I are Marines - currently inactive." In the Criswell's vocabulary, there were no such things as 'ex' or 'retired' Marines.
Deryx grinned at the "Doggy" reference a common Marine nick-name for Border Service personnel. That, more than anything, convinced him they were indeed who they claimed.
"Mind telling me what the hell happened here?" asked the Denobulan CPO.
The Criswells shared their experiences, from the initial takeover by the Maquis, to their escape from the dining room and their encounter with Kenda Byress.
"Your lieutenant, here, saved our asses, Chief!" said Vince, looking at the young officer with a mix of admiration and concern. "He broke cover and drew fire away from Pat - and got himself shot in the process."
"Well, nobody said officers were real bright," observed Deryx. The Criswells nodded in agreement.
* * *
Bluefin Team One, Deck 22
Commander Strauss, SCPO Brin and Corpsman Sanders moved deeper into the bowels of the massive starliner. They had successfully liberated 38 of the Queen Elizabeth's crew. One Maquis died in the brief skirmish, making the foolish mistake of charging at Senior Chief Brin. Mercifully for the terrorist, he was dead before he hit the ground, Brin's long-bladed knife protruding from his left eye socket.
Strauss turned command of the liner's crew to a young lieutenant. Now, armed with the terrorists' weapons plus knives and make-shift clubs, they were on their own mission to liberate the rest of the crew.
Descending a steep ladder, the trio from the Bluefin all paused as their combat scanners vibrated with an in-coming distress signal. Inga's breath caught in her throat as she saw that the signal came from Nigel Bane.
Brin gently placed a hand on her arm. "Hey, Commander! The Lieutenant's alive - we wouldn't be receivin' the distress signal otherwise. A corpsman will get to him quick - it'll be okay."
She bobbed her head and smiled gamely, touched at how this burly warrior could exhibit such concern. "Thanks, Solly. I'm sure you're right. Come on - we've got to rendezvous with Commander Galvani's team at main engineering. Time is running out and we've got to eject that warp core!"
* * *
Sequoia Team Alpha, Deck 24
Commander Maria Galvani knelt beside the Ukranian CPO, who was frowning at his scanner.
"What do we have, Chief?" she whispered. They were now only a dozen meters from the massive double doors to main engineering.
"Twelve life-signs and multiple energy weapons. What concerns me is if we start a fire-fight in there. One stray round in the wrong place could start a warp-core breach. Then it's goodbye to all of us!"
Galvani frowned at the news. "Wouldn't the computer automatically jetison the warp core in case of a breach?"
Kasparov shrugged. "The Maquis have already messed with most of the control systems and our Mark 22's didn't help. I wouldn't bet my life on the safety protocols working."
The Sequoia's XO checked her chronometer. "We have less than 45 minutes, Chief. We're going to have to risk it before the Resolute takes the decision out of our hands."
* * *
Stardate 54246.9 (2 April 2377)
USS Sequoia
Sector 04340 - damaged and adrift
Four figures in environmental suits materialized on the remains of the Sequoia's bridge. Captain Akinola, Dr. Castille, Crewman Norris and Petty Officer Cookie Marino looked around in hushed awe at the monstrous destruction of the cutter's control center. A large, gaping hole opened their view to the void where the main viewer was once located. A faint blue glow was the only indication of the emergency force-field that prevented the unconscious occupants of the bridge from being sucked into the vacuum of space.
"Spread out and tend to the wounded," ordered Akinola, somberly. His eyes caught sight of an arm protruding from beneath a pile of ceiling panels and a structural beam.
"Cookie! Give me a hand!"
The portly ship's cook joined Akinola and together, they moved debris aside to reveal the still form of Captain D'Angelo.
"Doc!" called Akinola. Castille joined them, kneeling as he ran a medical tri-corder over the unconscious captain.
"He's alive, but just barely. Let's beam him directly to sickbay. I've already activated the EMH."
Seconds after contacting the Bluefin, Captain D'Angelo disappeared in the shimmer of the transporter beam, whisked away to sickbay. Akinola, Castille and the others turned their attention back to the rest of the injured bridge crew.
* * *
Lt. Commander T'Ser, Ensign Ryan and Corpsman N'gali materialized outside of Sequoia's engineering section.
"Radiation levels normal, atmosphere is within acceptable range" commented T'Ser. With that determined, the trio deactivated the force-fields that served as faceplates on their helmets. "Let's check out engineering."
They moved toward the double doors, which remained obstinately closed.
"Jammed," muttered T'Ser. "Ensign, try the hyper-jack and get the doors opened. N'gali check the rest of the deck for casualties, then get back to us."
Ensign Ryan pumped the hyper-jack in a slot by the doors. At first, nothing happened. Then an audible pop and creak emanated from the doors, which began to slowly slide open.
As soon as the opening was wide enough, T'Ser slipped through into engineering.
Leaning against one of the consoles was an older male Trill with lieutenant commander pips on his collar. T'Ser hurried by his side. The Trill blinked at her blearily, obviously dazed and in shock.
"I'm Lt. Commander T'Ser from the Bluefin," she said gently. "Are you injured?"
The Trill seemed to rally and attempted to regain his feet. T'Ser helped him to a chair.
"I'm alright - just banged up a bit." Realization and a look of sudden concern crossed his face. "The ship? . . ."
She smiled. "You're still in one piece . . . well, mostly. Most of the damage appears to be forward and to the bridge." She patted his shoulder reassuringly. "You did well, Commander. The warp core is intact and the ship appears stable for the moment. We're tending to the wounded first, then we'll begin securing the ship."
"Thanks - I'm Carn Lorvis, Chief Engineer, by the way. I apologize for my appearance . . ." he gestured to the tear to his left sleeve. A nasty looking bruise discolored the exposed flesh.
A sudden thought came to Lorvis and his brow furrowed. "What of the bridge crew? The Captain . . .?"
T'Ser forced a smile. "Our Captain is up there now with a rescue party. They're in good hands." She looked up as Corpsman N'gali walked in, followed by several dazed but ambulatory crewmen. She gestured for the corpsman, grateful for the interruption.
"Commander, this is Corpsman N'gali - he's going to check that arm out for you. Excuse me while I check out the ship's systems and begin an inventory of the damage."
* * *
Stardate 54246.9 (2 April 2377)
Tzen-kethi vessel, Blood Claw
Brez-Krill system, outer perimeter
Chuft Captain Gravaz g'Rivenn sat brooding in his private chambers, watching a tactical display that showed the approaching Federation vessels. He had noted with surprise the battles that had occurred, resulting in the destruction of at least three ships - possibly a fourth.
He was loathe to admit that he was puzzled by what he observed. Rather than the probing incursion he anticipated, he was puzzled that the Federation ships would turn on one another in such a violent manner. Part of him both admired and envied the combat - his own battle lust began to grow with each passing moment.
Now, he tried to interpret the tactical data he collected. Several scenarios crossed his mind: An outbreak of a civil war in the Federation? Unlikely. A ruse to distract the Tzen-kethi battle group? To what end? The Tzen-Kethi were now on a heightened war-footing, more than prepared for the few ships that hurtled their way.
What is happening over there? The grizzled veteran of numerous campaigns was at a loss to explain the bizarre behavior of those Federation ships. Perhaps they had simply gone mad.
He growled in frustration and stood. No matter - in less than one cycle, we will meet this bizarre incursion head-on, giving no quarter and showing no mercy!
* * *
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Looks like we're moving along nicely towards a slam-bang finish. I'm glad D'Angelo seems to be pulling through, but the QE is still rocketing towards Tzen-kethi space and the toads still occupy engineering. The Dogs are going to have to move and move quickly--Tempus fugit and if they don't shag it, they're going to fugit royal!
Chapter Twenty-one
Stardate 54247.0 (3 April 2377)
SS Queen Elizabeth VII
Sector 04340 - Warp 9
Main Bridge
Lt. Sarnek watched with concern as Captain Lumford worked frantically to re-route systems and regain control of the starliner. Beads of perspiration were prominent on the Captain's forehead.
"Captain Lumford, perhaps you should rest for a moment. You do not appear well," stated Sarnek.
"NO!" thundered the old ship's master, then in a calmer tone, "No . . . no, thank you, but I'm alright. I can rest later - I nearly have internal sensors back up. Some blighter uploaded a worm program into the system, but I've managed to isolate it . . . just . . . one . . . more . . . there!" he finished in a voice of triumph.
A large bank of monitors blinked to life and for the first time since the hijacking began, the bridge could monitor every nook and cranny of the ship.
Sarnek nodded in approval. "Well done, Captain. Now please, sit and rest. Chief Rumraa - please check these monitors and pass along the locations of the hostages and Maquis to the boarding teams."
"Aye sirr," rumbled the Caitian CPO as he squeezed his large frame into a chair.
Sarnek's gaze was caught by the monitor showing main engineering. With a slight frown, he tapped a message into his combat scanner.
* * *
Bluefin Team One and Sequoia Team Alpha - Deck 24
"Commander Galvani!" Strauss called to her counterpart from the Sequoia.
Galvani turned and acknowledged the arrival of Team One from the Bluefin.
"Commander Strauss," she replied. "Glad you could make it to the party! We're about ready to blow the doors and take down the perps in Engineering. You guys ready?"
Strauss frowned. "Do you have any tactical drones left?"
Galvani shook her head. "None. You?"
"We used our last two a few minutes ago. I guess we do this the hard way." Strauss was interrupted by the vibration of her combat scanner. She glanced down and read the incoming message. She looked up sharply at Galvani.
"That was Lt. Sarnek from the bridge. They've got internal scanners back up - he's downloading the video feed from engineering."
Both XO's peered at their scanners as real-time images of both their objective and adversaries came through. Galvani's brow furrowed in puzzled amazement.
"Is that what I think it is?" she asked, incredulous.
"I'm afraid so - Senior Chief, take a look!" Strauss gestured Brin to look at the video feed.
The red Orion's face pulled into a frown. "A portable shield generator? Who the hell is supplying these guys? This is top-of-the-line stuff!"
"We'll worry about that later, assuming we survive this," said Galvani. "Change of plans, guys - direct assault is out. They can blow us away and we can't even touch them!"
A thoughtful expression crossed Solly's face. "That's true if we make a direct frontal assault. Maybe we just need a little mis-direction."
"What's your plan, Solly?" queried Strauss as she stole a glance at her chronometer. Only 35 minutes left.
Brin accessed the ship's schematics on his scanner and laid out his plan. Strauss shook her head adamantly.
"No, Senior Chief - I'm not letting you commit suicide!"
"Commander, I can do this. We don't have time to argue, unless you can come up with a better plan in the next thirty seconds! We're out of options!"
Strauss hesitated. She knew Brin was right, but she didn't see how even he could come through this crazy plan unscathed. Finally she let out a frustrated breath.
"Okay. Let's do this," she said, flatly. She felt like she'd just signed Solly's death warrant. How will I face the Captain after this? she wondered.
Brin stripped off his armored vest, helmet, weapons belt and scanner - anything that could hinder movement or get caught in the air shaft. Strauss handed him her phaser pistol, but he shook his head, pulling the ceramic Andorian blade from the sheath strapped between his shoulder blades.
"This is all I'll need," he said in a business-like tone.
Galvani shuddered inwardly, as if someone had stepped on her grave.
* * *
Deck 10, Section H, Midships
Corpsman Ramirez trotted up to the small group clustered around Lt. Bane. He pulled a medical scanner from his belt and began to run it over Bane's body. Checking the reading, he frowned, then rummaged for a hypo-spray. Dialing in an anti-shock compound, he pressed the device against Bane's neck.
"Is he gonna be alright?" asked Vincent Criswell.
Ramirez favored the white-haired man with a quizzical look, but answered the question.
"Yeah, he should make it, but he's got significant nerve and cellular damage in his left arm. Doc should be able to repair the damage, but it's a pretty nasty injury."
Deryx grunted. "Mr. Bane is damn lucky to be alive! You want to transport him over to the ship?"
"Can't yet, the Captain took the ship out against some incoming Maquis ships. I still can't raise them."
The Denobulan CPO's face darkened. "I hope the Skipper blows the frakkers away!"
Ramirez nodded in agreement. He gestured down at Bane. "What hit him, Chief? A disruptor?" Deryx nodded and the Corpsman winced.
"Goddam barbaric weapons," opined Ramirez, darkly. "They cause the cells to literally explode! Even a partially deflected hit like this can do a lot of damage and hurts like hell! The Lieutenant will spend quite a few days in sickbay, I can promise you that." He glanced again at the Criswells. "So . . . who are you guys?"
* * *
Deck 24
Brin moved quietly through the air shaft that fed into main engineering. His nocturnal vision allowed him to navigate in the dark, confining space. Twice, he nearly became wedged as the shaft turned at sharp angles, but both times he was able to wriggle through, navigating the gauntlet of duct work with surprising speed for a being his size.
In ten minutes, he was peering through a vent cover into engineering. A dozen men and women were focused on the main doors, weapons at the ready. A portable field generator hummed in their midst, providing them protection from the boarding teams' phasers.
Directly in the center of the chamber was the tall pulsing cylinder which contained the warp core. Even now, the core throbbed with constrained energy, channeling the awesome power to the massive coils in the nacelles. His gaze moved around the room until it fell on a specific control panel. From there, he could eject the core.
Using his knife, he pried the clips that held the vent cover loose. Working quietly yet quickly, he pulled the cover into the shaft behind him, then he slowly moved outward and downward. If any of the terrorists were to turn at that moment, he knew he'd be dead in the blink of an eye.
* * *
In the corridor outside main engineering, Strauss and Galvani checked their chronometers, then looked at each other.
"Time," said Strauss, simply.
Galvani nodded. "Chief Kasparov - blow the door!"
* * *
Stardate 54247.0 (3 April 2377)
SS Queen Elizabeth VII
Sector 04340 - Warp 9
Main Bridge
Lt. Sarnek watched with concern as Captain Lumford worked frantically to re-route systems and regain control of the starliner. Beads of perspiration were prominent on the Captain's forehead.
"Captain Lumford, perhaps you should rest for a moment. You do not appear well," stated Sarnek.
"NO!" thundered the old ship's master, then in a calmer tone, "No . . . no, thank you, but I'm alright. I can rest later - I nearly have internal sensors back up. Some blighter uploaded a worm program into the system, but I've managed to isolate it . . . just . . . one . . . more . . . there!" he finished in a voice of triumph.
A large bank of monitors blinked to life and for the first time since the hijacking began, the bridge could monitor every nook and cranny of the ship.
Sarnek nodded in approval. "Well done, Captain. Now please, sit and rest. Chief Rumraa - please check these monitors and pass along the locations of the hostages and Maquis to the boarding teams."
"Aye sirr," rumbled the Caitian CPO as he squeezed his large frame into a chair.
Sarnek's gaze was caught by the monitor showing main engineering. With a slight frown, he tapped a message into his combat scanner.
* * *
Bluefin Team One and Sequoia Team Alpha - Deck 24
"Commander Galvani!" Strauss called to her counterpart from the Sequoia.
Galvani turned and acknowledged the arrival of Team One from the Bluefin.
"Commander Strauss," she replied. "Glad you could make it to the party! We're about ready to blow the doors and take down the perps in Engineering. You guys ready?"
Strauss frowned. "Do you have any tactical drones left?"
Galvani shook her head. "None. You?"
"We used our last two a few minutes ago. I guess we do this the hard way." Strauss was interrupted by the vibration of her combat scanner. She glanced down and read the incoming message. She looked up sharply at Galvani.
"That was Lt. Sarnek from the bridge. They've got internal scanners back up - he's downloading the video feed from engineering."
Both XO's peered at their scanners as real-time images of both their objective and adversaries came through. Galvani's brow furrowed in puzzled amazement.
"Is that what I think it is?" she asked, incredulous.
"I'm afraid so - Senior Chief, take a look!" Strauss gestured Brin to look at the video feed.
The red Orion's face pulled into a frown. "A portable shield generator? Who the hell is supplying these guys? This is top-of-the-line stuff!"
"We'll worry about that later, assuming we survive this," said Galvani. "Change of plans, guys - direct assault is out. They can blow us away and we can't even touch them!"
A thoughtful expression crossed Solly's face. "That's true if we make a direct frontal assault. Maybe we just need a little mis-direction."
"What's your plan, Solly?" queried Strauss as she stole a glance at her chronometer. Only 35 minutes left.
Brin accessed the ship's schematics on his scanner and laid out his plan. Strauss shook her head adamantly.
"No, Senior Chief - I'm not letting you commit suicide!"
"Commander, I can do this. We don't have time to argue, unless you can come up with a better plan in the next thirty seconds! We're out of options!"
Strauss hesitated. She knew Brin was right, but she didn't see how even he could come through this crazy plan unscathed. Finally she let out a frustrated breath.
"Okay. Let's do this," she said, flatly. She felt like she'd just signed Solly's death warrant. How will I face the Captain after this? she wondered.
Brin stripped off his armored vest, helmet, weapons belt and scanner - anything that could hinder movement or get caught in the air shaft. Strauss handed him her phaser pistol, but he shook his head, pulling the ceramic Andorian blade from the sheath strapped between his shoulder blades.
"This is all I'll need," he said in a business-like tone.
Galvani shuddered inwardly, as if someone had stepped on her grave.
* * *
Deck 10, Section H, Midships
Corpsman Ramirez trotted up to the small group clustered around Lt. Bane. He pulled a medical scanner from his belt and began to run it over Bane's body. Checking the reading, he frowned, then rummaged for a hypo-spray. Dialing in an anti-shock compound, he pressed the device against Bane's neck.
"Is he gonna be alright?" asked Vincent Criswell.
Ramirez favored the white-haired man with a quizzical look, but answered the question.
"Yeah, he should make it, but he's got significant nerve and cellular damage in his left arm. Doc should be able to repair the damage, but it's a pretty nasty injury."
Deryx grunted. "Mr. Bane is damn lucky to be alive! You want to transport him over to the ship?"
"Can't yet, the Captain took the ship out against some incoming Maquis ships. I still can't raise them."
The Denobulan CPO's face darkened. "I hope the Skipper blows the frakkers away!"
Ramirez nodded in agreement. He gestured down at Bane. "What hit him, Chief? A disruptor?" Deryx nodded and the Corpsman winced.
"Goddam barbaric weapons," opined Ramirez, darkly. "They cause the cells to literally explode! Even a partially deflected hit like this can do a lot of damage and hurts like hell! The Lieutenant will spend quite a few days in sickbay, I can promise you that." He glanced again at the Criswells. "So . . . who are you guys?"
* * *
Deck 24
Brin moved quietly through the air shaft that fed into main engineering. His nocturnal vision allowed him to navigate in the dark, confining space. Twice, he nearly became wedged as the shaft turned at sharp angles, but both times he was able to wriggle through, navigating the gauntlet of duct work with surprising speed for a being his size.
In ten minutes, he was peering through a vent cover into engineering. A dozen men and women were focused on the main doors, weapons at the ready. A portable field generator hummed in their midst, providing them protection from the boarding teams' phasers.
Directly in the center of the chamber was the tall pulsing cylinder which contained the warp core. Even now, the core throbbed with constrained energy, channeling the awesome power to the massive coils in the nacelles. His gaze moved around the room until it fell on a specific control panel. From there, he could eject the core.
Using his knife, he pried the clips that held the vent cover loose. Working quietly yet quickly, he pulled the cover into the shaft behind him, then he slowly moved outward and downward. If any of the terrorists were to turn at that moment, he knew he'd be dead in the blink of an eye.
* * *
In the corridor outside main engineering, Strauss and Galvani checked their chronometers, then looked at each other.
"Time," said Strauss, simply.
Galvani nodded. "Chief Kasparov - blow the door!"
* * *
oh my...
An all or nothing gamble--but there really wasn't choice. This is going to hurt...
Yeah, but whom will it hurt? I don't want to think about the amount of force necessary to bring down Solly Brin, or the absolute carnage he could dish out before it happens.
And if, if Solly were to die, someone in the afterlife had better start making some room in other culture's heavens, 'cause Brin's going to kick all the Klingons the hell out of Sto-vo-Kor!
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Chapter Twenty-two
Stardate 54247.0 (3 April 2377)
USS Resolute
Sector 04340 - Holding station 84 light years from Brez-krill
Captain Franklin watched the growing image of the Queen Elizabeth on the main view-screen with a sense of growing dread.
"Time to intercept?" she asked to no one in particular.
"22 minutes, 14 seconds" replied Commander Xyrel. His voice was even more subdued than usual, reflecting the somber pall that had fallen over the bridge crew. Everyone knew what they had to do, but no one wanted to do it.
Franklin nodded absently and slid the tip of her tongue over dry lips. "Tactical, load all forward tubes with quantum warheads." She marveled at the detached nature of her own voice - as if she had merely ordered a minor course change.
The tactical officer, a tall, gangly Edosian emitted a quiet sigh and quickly inputted the necessary commands with his three arms.
"Torpedoes loaded and armed," he replied in his high-pitched, clipped voice. "Standing by for targeting instructions. "
And here it is . . . thought Franklin. The order that sets the stage for killing nearly 3,000 people. I wonder how hot the corner of Hell is that's reserved for me?
Aloud, she said, "Target the Queen Elizabeth, Lt. Fadjak. Following that, you are relieved from your station."
Fadjak turned in his chair, puzzled. "Sir?"
Franklin stood and walked to the tactical station. She regarded the red-skinned being with a sad smile. "My order, my responsibility, Lieutenant." She jerked her head toward the rear of the bridge. "Go back there and keep Ensign Byrd company at Environmental."
The Edosian hesitated, blinking at his commanding officer, before unfolding his angular frame from the seat and moving quietly aft, torn between guilt and relief at his sudden reprieve.
Captain Franklin settled in at the tactical station. A strong feeling of deja-vous flowing over her as she recalled the thousands of hours she sat at similar stations over her career. As she perused the targetting scanner, now locked on the approaching star-liner, she felt a presence by her side. She glanced up to see Commander Xyrel. The gray-haired Vulcan regarded her with a look that bordered suspiciously on concern.
"Commander?" she asked.
"Samantha," he said quietly, in a tone only she could hear, "you need not bear this burden alone."
Franklin was suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude and affection for the old Vulcan. In many ways, he was more of a father-figure than executive officer to her. She felt her throat tighten with barely contained emotion.
"I wish that were true, Xyrel. But this is one burden I can't share with anyone - not even you."
* * *
Stardate 54247.0 (3 April 2377)
SS Queen Elizabeth VII
Sector 04340 - Warp 9
Deck 24 - Main Engineering
The massive pressure doors to engineering blew inward with thunderous noise as the blast wave from Chief Kasparov's charges expended its destructive energy.
Using the noisy explosion as a diversion, Solly dropped nimbly from the air vent and rolled behind the massive central warp core chamber. Crawling on his knees and elbows, he stole a quick glance at the group of Maquis that were attempting to hold off the assault of the two Border Service strike teams.
The shield generator had protected the terrorists from the initial explosion, even deflecting the impact of one of the pressure doors which weighed in excess of two tons. Now, the Maquis were firing wildly into the corridor beyond engineering, effectively dissuading the Border Service teams from making head-way.
Solly quickly scrambled to the warp core control station opposite the warp core chamber. His success depended greatly on luck. If one of the terrorists were to turn in his direction, he had no cover for protection.
Using the blade of his knife, he pried up a locked panel cover, revealing two red handles. Placing the knife between his teeth, he reached in and turned the handles toward each other, then yanked upward with all his might.
Solly winced as a shrill klaxon sounded three times. He glanced back at the pitched battle, but the cacophony of weapons fire had drowned out the warning alarm. The dark panel before him came to life and the screen flashed: "Input command code to initiate warp core ejection."
Using the code key provided them by the Cunard Line, Solly tapped in the ten-digit code.
This time, red warning lights began to flash throughout engineering and a much louder klaxon began to blare a steady warning beat. The screen before him changed to read: "To eject core, depress both handles."
* * *
The Maquis terrorists were startled by the sudden blaring of the klaxon and the pulse of the red warning lights.
"What's happening?" asked a human male.
"It's the warp core ejection warning!" replied a Bajoran female. She turned, her eyes widening as she spotted Brin at the control panel across engineering. Her arm flew up, pointing in a desperate manner.
"Shoot him!" she screamed. "Shoot him, before he pushes down those plungers!"
A Nausican with a heavy phaser rifle turned quickly, leveling the weapon at Solly. As he was about to squeeze the trigger, a volley of phaser fire from the Border Service teams impacted their shield, causing it to flare and spark.
Reflexively, the Nausican pulled the trigger of his weapon. His aim was off slightly, and the bolt did not hit Solly squarely as he had hoped.
Nevertheless, a significant portion of the phaser beam caught Solly in the back. His body spasmed, and his vision began to grow dark.
With the final vestiges of his strength and consciousness, he fell forward on the twin plungers - depressing them fully before he slid to the floor, still and unbreathing.
* * *
The long, cylindrical warp core slid soundlessly from the starliner into the void of space and began to slowly tumble away from the ship.
Lacking a power source, the warp coils went into immediate shut-down as the last tendrils of energy were consumed.
With a low-rumble, the Queen Elizabeth VII dropped out of warp into normal space, approximately ten minutes from the Brez-krill system at their former speed. A kaleidoscope of Coriolis radiation trailed the massive ship as it transitioned out of subspace at high relativistic speed. The vessel was now centuries rather than minutes from Tzen-Kethi territory.
* * *
Deck 24 - Bluefin Team One, Sequoia Team Alpha
"The core's gone! Solly did it!" exclaimed Strauss over the din of weapons fire.
Commander Galvani grinned. "So he did! Chief - time to take off the gloves."
CPO Kasparov nodded grimly. "Agreed!" The grizzled veteran placed an intimidating weapon on his shoulder. "Everyone, get back! This is going to leave a mark!"
No longer inhibited by fear of breaching the warp core, Chief Kasparov brought up a fairly new addition to the Border Service arsenal. He looked into the viewscreen of the Ion Lance and powered up the weapon.
"Target!" he announced, "Firing!"
A blinding white spear of compressed ions screamed from the lance, impacting and crumpling the portable shield that had protected the Maquis to this point. Unprotected, the terrorists were rent asunder by the sudden burst of focused ions. The effect was like standing directly behind a starship's sublight engine vents at full impulse. None of the Maquis lived long enough to share their experience.
The Border Dogs streamed into Engineering, quickly checking the scattered Maquis bodies.
Strauss sprinted around the now-empty core chamber, pulling up short as she spotted the prone form of Solly Brin, sprawled below the control station.
"Oh God!" she breathed, "Sandy!" she shouted, "Get up here, now! Man down!" She moved forward quickly, dropping her carbine and helmet by Solly's side.
She checked for a pulse, her breath catching as she found none.
Corpsman Sanders slid in, brusquely pushing the Commander aside as he checked for a pulse or respiration. He shook his head.
"Help me roll him over!" he directed. Commander Galvani trotted up and the three of them rolled the heavy Orion onto his back.
Brin's normally dark red complexion was now an unhealthy, mottled orange. His eyes were partially open, but rolled back - revealing only yellow sclera.
Sanders quickly placed a cortical stimulator on Solly's forehead. "Clear!" he shouted.
Galvani and Strauss moved back fractionally as the big Orion jerked spasmodically to the cortical stimulator. Sanders checked his medical scanner and cursed - his expression a mix of anger and fear. He grabbed a programmable hypo-spray from his bag, dialed in a dose - paused to consider, then upped the dosage. He gave Strauss and Galvani a serious look.
"I'm going to inject him with Cordrazine. This is dangerous stuff for humans and very unpredictable with Orions. I'm giving him a hefty dose, 'cause he's a big fellow.You two be ready - when this hits his heart, he may get a bit unruly."
The two officers nodded, taking up positions on both sides of Brin. Sanders pursed his lips, breathed a silent prayer, and pressed the hypo-spray against Solly's neck - injecting 30 cc of Cordrazine in a long, sustained hiss.
Seconds passed, and nothing happened. Sanders cursed, dialed in an additional 10 cc, and reached toward Solly's neck. He never made it.
The big Orion's eyes suddenly flew open wide. With a roar, he reached up and clamped his right hand around the hapless corpsman's neck. Sanders dropped the hypo-spray which clattered away and grasped the vice-like grip of Senior Chief Brin.
"Solly! Let him go! For God's sake, it's Sanders!" Strauss tried to pry the cable-strong fingers from the frantic corpsman's neck. Sanders face was growing purple. Galvani tugged from the other direction, to no avail.
"He's gonna kill him!" shouted Galvani.
"He doesn't know what he's doing!" grunted Strauss as she pulled in vain at Solly's arm. Finally, she let go and turned back toward Solly.
"Senior Chief, I'm sorry about this . . ." Strauss drew back her left arm, and slugged him in the jaw with all her strength.
Whether through luck, skill or the Orion's weakened state, Inga's punch caused Brin to relapse into unconsciousness, his hand relaxing its death grip on Corpsman Sanders.
Sanders rolled back, gasping in great, shuddering breaths. Galvani tended to the shook-up corpsman while Inga rocked back and forth, cradling her injured left hand and uttering a string of impressive Teutonic curses. Finally, she regained her composure enough to check Solly.
She was relieved to see the gentle rise and fall of his massive chest. His color was once more a healthy russet shade. Her smile faltered, however, as she noted a prominent purple bruise rising on the right side of his jaw.
Still rubbing her hand, she approached Sanders who, though shaky, seemed alright.
"Sandy? You okay?" she asked.
He nodded and coughed. Clearing his throat, he replied in a raspy voice, "Yes ma'am - and thanks! You just saved my life."
Inga nodded. "Uh huh. But we need to reach an understanding, Corpsman Sanders."
Sandy noticed the serious note in her voice. "Yes ma'am?"
"If you ever tell Senior Chief Brin that I hit him, I will strangle you - are we clear on that?"
Galvani attempted to hide her grin as she saw the corpsman's eyes widen with alarm. "Yes ma'am! I most definietly did not see the XO punch out the Senior Chief's lights!"
Strauss maintained her piercing gaze for a beat longer, then nodded.
"Good, Sandy - very good. Now, see to the Senior Chief. Looks like he's okay. When Bluefin or Sequoia get back in communicator range, we'll get him transported to sickbay."
Strauss and Galvani stood and surveyed the carnage in engineering, their eyes fixing on the empty core chamber.
"Mission accomplished, Commander Galvani," remarked Strauss, a weary smile forming on her face.
"Frakkin-A, Commander Strauss," replied Galvani. She glanced at several messages on her combat scanner and nodded in approval. "It would seem we've nearly mopped up the remnants of the Maquis on this tub. Now, we just need to wait on our rides to show up."
"Outstanding," answered Strauss wearily, a wave of exhaustion threatening to overwhelm her. A sudden realization struck her and her eyes widened. "Ah, Commander, if you'll excuse me, I need to check on one of my officers up on deck ten!"
* * *
Stardate 54247.1 (3 April 2377)
USS Resolute
Sector 04340 - Holding station 84 light years from Brez-krill
Captain Franklin stared mutely at the panel of torpedo controls before her. Each one glowed a steady red, indicating that they were not only armed, but locked on a specific target.
It struck her that the Resolute carried more destructive fire-power than all of the Earth navies of the 20th century combined. The four armed quantum torpedoes that she was prepared to launch at a civilian vessel would unleash more hellish energy than all of the nuclear weapons expended during the third world war.
She shook her head slightly. And to think, you joined Starfleet to be an explorer! The bitterness of the irony was not lost on her.
"Captain!" interrupted Xyrel, his voice more animated than usual, "The Queen Elizabeth has dropped out of warp - I am detecting their warp core has been ejected."
Instantly, there were thunderous whoops and whistles on the bridge of the Resolute. Captain Franklin closed her eyes and breathed a silent prayer of thanks, before speaking.
"Settle down everyone, settle down - mind your station! Commander Xyrel, stand us down from battle-stations." She turned back to tactical and carefully disarmed the torpedoes and deactivated the targeting system. Her hands didn't shake too much.
She stood, glad that her weak legs did not wobble, and moved back to the command chair, almost euphoric with relief.
"Helm, move us in to rendezvous with the Queen Elizabeth. Let's see if we can render assistance."
* * *
Stardate 54247.0 (3 April 2377)
USS Resolute
Sector 04340 - Holding station 84 light years from Brez-krill
Captain Franklin watched the growing image of the Queen Elizabeth on the main view-screen with a sense of growing dread.
"Time to intercept?" she asked to no one in particular.
"22 minutes, 14 seconds" replied Commander Xyrel. His voice was even more subdued than usual, reflecting the somber pall that had fallen over the bridge crew. Everyone knew what they had to do, but no one wanted to do it.
Franklin nodded absently and slid the tip of her tongue over dry lips. "Tactical, load all forward tubes with quantum warheads." She marveled at the detached nature of her own voice - as if she had merely ordered a minor course change.
The tactical officer, a tall, gangly Edosian emitted a quiet sigh and quickly inputted the necessary commands with his three arms.
"Torpedoes loaded and armed," he replied in his high-pitched, clipped voice. "Standing by for targeting instructions. "
And here it is . . . thought Franklin. The order that sets the stage for killing nearly 3,000 people. I wonder how hot the corner of Hell is that's reserved for me?
Aloud, she said, "Target the Queen Elizabeth, Lt. Fadjak. Following that, you are relieved from your station."
Fadjak turned in his chair, puzzled. "Sir?"
Franklin stood and walked to the tactical station. She regarded the red-skinned being with a sad smile. "My order, my responsibility, Lieutenant." She jerked her head toward the rear of the bridge. "Go back there and keep Ensign Byrd company at Environmental."
The Edosian hesitated, blinking at his commanding officer, before unfolding his angular frame from the seat and moving quietly aft, torn between guilt and relief at his sudden reprieve.
Captain Franklin settled in at the tactical station. A strong feeling of deja-vous flowing over her as she recalled the thousands of hours she sat at similar stations over her career. As she perused the targetting scanner, now locked on the approaching star-liner, she felt a presence by her side. She glanced up to see Commander Xyrel. The gray-haired Vulcan regarded her with a look that bordered suspiciously on concern.
"Commander?" she asked.
"Samantha," he said quietly, in a tone only she could hear, "you need not bear this burden alone."
Franklin was suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude and affection for the old Vulcan. In many ways, he was more of a father-figure than executive officer to her. She felt her throat tighten with barely contained emotion.
"I wish that were true, Xyrel. But this is one burden I can't share with anyone - not even you."
* * *
Stardate 54247.0 (3 April 2377)
SS Queen Elizabeth VII
Sector 04340 - Warp 9
Deck 24 - Main Engineering
The massive pressure doors to engineering blew inward with thunderous noise as the blast wave from Chief Kasparov's charges expended its destructive energy.
Using the noisy explosion as a diversion, Solly dropped nimbly from the air vent and rolled behind the massive central warp core chamber. Crawling on his knees and elbows, he stole a quick glance at the group of Maquis that were attempting to hold off the assault of the two Border Service strike teams.
The shield generator had protected the terrorists from the initial explosion, even deflecting the impact of one of the pressure doors which weighed in excess of two tons. Now, the Maquis were firing wildly into the corridor beyond engineering, effectively dissuading the Border Service teams from making head-way.
Solly quickly scrambled to the warp core control station opposite the warp core chamber. His success depended greatly on luck. If one of the terrorists were to turn in his direction, he had no cover for protection.
Using the blade of his knife, he pried up a locked panel cover, revealing two red handles. Placing the knife between his teeth, he reached in and turned the handles toward each other, then yanked upward with all his might.
Solly winced as a shrill klaxon sounded three times. He glanced back at the pitched battle, but the cacophony of weapons fire had drowned out the warning alarm. The dark panel before him came to life and the screen flashed: "Input command code to initiate warp core ejection."
Using the code key provided them by the Cunard Line, Solly tapped in the ten-digit code.
This time, red warning lights began to flash throughout engineering and a much louder klaxon began to blare a steady warning beat. The screen before him changed to read: "To eject core, depress both handles."
* * *
The Maquis terrorists were startled by the sudden blaring of the klaxon and the pulse of the red warning lights.
"What's happening?" asked a human male.
"It's the warp core ejection warning!" replied a Bajoran female. She turned, her eyes widening as she spotted Brin at the control panel across engineering. Her arm flew up, pointing in a desperate manner.
"Shoot him!" she screamed. "Shoot him, before he pushes down those plungers!"
A Nausican with a heavy phaser rifle turned quickly, leveling the weapon at Solly. As he was about to squeeze the trigger, a volley of phaser fire from the Border Service teams impacted their shield, causing it to flare and spark.
Reflexively, the Nausican pulled the trigger of his weapon. His aim was off slightly, and the bolt did not hit Solly squarely as he had hoped.
Nevertheless, a significant portion of the phaser beam caught Solly in the back. His body spasmed, and his vision began to grow dark.
With the final vestiges of his strength and consciousness, he fell forward on the twin plungers - depressing them fully before he slid to the floor, still and unbreathing.
* * *
The long, cylindrical warp core slid soundlessly from the starliner into the void of space and began to slowly tumble away from the ship.
Lacking a power source, the warp coils went into immediate shut-down as the last tendrils of energy were consumed.
With a low-rumble, the Queen Elizabeth VII dropped out of warp into normal space, approximately ten minutes from the Brez-krill system at their former speed. A kaleidoscope of Coriolis radiation trailed the massive ship as it transitioned out of subspace at high relativistic speed. The vessel was now centuries rather than minutes from Tzen-Kethi territory.
* * *
Deck 24 - Bluefin Team One, Sequoia Team Alpha
"The core's gone! Solly did it!" exclaimed Strauss over the din of weapons fire.
Commander Galvani grinned. "So he did! Chief - time to take off the gloves."
CPO Kasparov nodded grimly. "Agreed!" The grizzled veteran placed an intimidating weapon on his shoulder. "Everyone, get back! This is going to leave a mark!"
No longer inhibited by fear of breaching the warp core, Chief Kasparov brought up a fairly new addition to the Border Service arsenal. He looked into the viewscreen of the Ion Lance and powered up the weapon.
"Target!" he announced, "Firing!"
A blinding white spear of compressed ions screamed from the lance, impacting and crumpling the portable shield that had protected the Maquis to this point. Unprotected, the terrorists were rent asunder by the sudden burst of focused ions. The effect was like standing directly behind a starship's sublight engine vents at full impulse. None of the Maquis lived long enough to share their experience.
The Border Dogs streamed into Engineering, quickly checking the scattered Maquis bodies.
Strauss sprinted around the now-empty core chamber, pulling up short as she spotted the prone form of Solly Brin, sprawled below the control station.
"Oh God!" she breathed, "Sandy!" she shouted, "Get up here, now! Man down!" She moved forward quickly, dropping her carbine and helmet by Solly's side.
She checked for a pulse, her breath catching as she found none.
Corpsman Sanders slid in, brusquely pushing the Commander aside as he checked for a pulse or respiration. He shook his head.
"Help me roll him over!" he directed. Commander Galvani trotted up and the three of them rolled the heavy Orion onto his back.
Brin's normally dark red complexion was now an unhealthy, mottled orange. His eyes were partially open, but rolled back - revealing only yellow sclera.
Sanders quickly placed a cortical stimulator on Solly's forehead. "Clear!" he shouted.
Galvani and Strauss moved back fractionally as the big Orion jerked spasmodically to the cortical stimulator. Sanders checked his medical scanner and cursed - his expression a mix of anger and fear. He grabbed a programmable hypo-spray from his bag, dialed in a dose - paused to consider, then upped the dosage. He gave Strauss and Galvani a serious look.
"I'm going to inject him with Cordrazine. This is dangerous stuff for humans and very unpredictable with Orions. I'm giving him a hefty dose, 'cause he's a big fellow.You two be ready - when this hits his heart, he may get a bit unruly."
The two officers nodded, taking up positions on both sides of Brin. Sanders pursed his lips, breathed a silent prayer, and pressed the hypo-spray against Solly's neck - injecting 30 cc of Cordrazine in a long, sustained hiss.
Seconds passed, and nothing happened. Sanders cursed, dialed in an additional 10 cc, and reached toward Solly's neck. He never made it.
The big Orion's eyes suddenly flew open wide. With a roar, he reached up and clamped his right hand around the hapless corpsman's neck. Sanders dropped the hypo-spray which clattered away and grasped the vice-like grip of Senior Chief Brin.
"Solly! Let him go! For God's sake, it's Sanders!" Strauss tried to pry the cable-strong fingers from the frantic corpsman's neck. Sanders face was growing purple. Galvani tugged from the other direction, to no avail.
"He's gonna kill him!" shouted Galvani.
"He doesn't know what he's doing!" grunted Strauss as she pulled in vain at Solly's arm. Finally, she let go and turned back toward Solly.
"Senior Chief, I'm sorry about this . . ." Strauss drew back her left arm, and slugged him in the jaw with all her strength.
Whether through luck, skill or the Orion's weakened state, Inga's punch caused Brin to relapse into unconsciousness, his hand relaxing its death grip on Corpsman Sanders.
Sanders rolled back, gasping in great, shuddering breaths. Galvani tended to the shook-up corpsman while Inga rocked back and forth, cradling her injured left hand and uttering a string of impressive Teutonic curses. Finally, she regained her composure enough to check Solly.
She was relieved to see the gentle rise and fall of his massive chest. His color was once more a healthy russet shade. Her smile faltered, however, as she noted a prominent purple bruise rising on the right side of his jaw.
Still rubbing her hand, she approached Sanders who, though shaky, seemed alright.
"Sandy? You okay?" she asked.
He nodded and coughed. Clearing his throat, he replied in a raspy voice, "Yes ma'am - and thanks! You just saved my life."
Inga nodded. "Uh huh. But we need to reach an understanding, Corpsman Sanders."
Sandy noticed the serious note in her voice. "Yes ma'am?"
"If you ever tell Senior Chief Brin that I hit him, I will strangle you - are we clear on that?"
Galvani attempted to hide her grin as she saw the corpsman's eyes widen with alarm. "Yes ma'am! I most definietly did not see the XO punch out the Senior Chief's lights!"
Strauss maintained her piercing gaze for a beat longer, then nodded.
"Good, Sandy - very good. Now, see to the Senior Chief. Looks like he's okay. When Bluefin or Sequoia get back in communicator range, we'll get him transported to sickbay."
Strauss and Galvani stood and surveyed the carnage in engineering, their eyes fixing on the empty core chamber.
"Mission accomplished, Commander Galvani," remarked Strauss, a weary smile forming on her face.
"Frakkin-A, Commander Strauss," replied Galvani. She glanced at several messages on her combat scanner and nodded in approval. "It would seem we've nearly mopped up the remnants of the Maquis on this tub. Now, we just need to wait on our rides to show up."
"Outstanding," answered Strauss wearily, a wave of exhaustion threatening to overwhelm her. A sudden realization struck her and her eyes widened. "Ah, Commander, if you'll excuse me, I need to check on one of my officers up on deck ten!"
* * *
Stardate 54247.1 (3 April 2377)
USS Resolute
Sector 04340 - Holding station 84 light years from Brez-krill
Captain Franklin stared mutely at the panel of torpedo controls before her. Each one glowed a steady red, indicating that they were not only armed, but locked on a specific target.
It struck her that the Resolute carried more destructive fire-power than all of the Earth navies of the 20th century combined. The four armed quantum torpedoes that she was prepared to launch at a civilian vessel would unleash more hellish energy than all of the nuclear weapons expended during the third world war.
She shook her head slightly. And to think, you joined Starfleet to be an explorer! The bitterness of the irony was not lost on her.
"Captain!" interrupted Xyrel, his voice more animated than usual, "The Queen Elizabeth has dropped out of warp - I am detecting their warp core has been ejected."
Instantly, there were thunderous whoops and whistles on the bridge of the Resolute. Captain Franklin closed her eyes and breathed a silent prayer of thanks, before speaking.
"Settle down everyone, settle down - mind your station! Commander Xyrel, stand us down from battle-stations." She turned back to tactical and carefully disarmed the torpedoes and deactivated the targeting system. Her hands didn't shake too much.
She stood, glad that her weak legs did not wobble, and moved back to the command chair, almost euphoric with relief.
"Helm, move us in to rendezvous with the Queen Elizabeth. Let's see if we can render assistance."
* * *
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Outstanding work here. And you threw in a good little scare for good measure with Solly Brin coming witin inches of knocking on Orion heaven's door.
Also I really liked the introspective look at Franklin's close call. What an unthinkable situation for any captain.
I just got one wish: I hope Solly finds out about the XO punching out the Senior Chief's lights.
Also I really liked the introspective look at Franklin's close call. What an unthinkable situation for any captain.
I just got one wish: I hope Solly finds out about the XO punching out the Senior Chief's lights.
That was great, I almost feel sorry for the neo-ions...I mean Maquis. Almost
Nice work with Solly there.
Nice work with Solly there.
Glad you are enjoying it, but we ain't done just yet!
Hmmm. I wonder what that exchange would be like? . . .
Captain Franklin is an amazing character- good job on creating an individual who isn't getting much screen-time, but who is as real is the stars on the Bluefin. The image of her sitting alone at tactical was heart-wrenching.
I'm going to have to stop reading this while my kids are awake - you keep making me cry!
I'm going to have to stop reading this while my kids are awake - you keep making me cry!
Sorry 'bout that, but glad you like the story!
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