The Star Eagle Adventures III: Cry Havoc
- Thread starter CeJay
- Start date
Re: Prologue
CeJay,
Just finished the first chapter. It was very action-packed, with good character interaction and foreshadowing. Like the Admiral, D'Karr made an impression. I hope to see more of him. Watching him and Leva go at it should be fun.
In this opening chapter I think you've done a good job of capturing the violence and tragedy of the Dominion War as well.
Sidenote, I forgot to address your question about Leva's reaction to Dar's demise. Perhaps you could write something. I'm curious to know how the war will change Leva by 2376 anyway.
CeJay,
Just finished the first chapter. It was very action-packed, with good character interaction and foreshadowing. Like the Admiral, D'Karr made an impression. I hope to see more of him. Watching him and Leva go at it should be fun.
In this opening chapter I think you've done a good job of capturing the violence and tragedy of the Dominion War as well.
Sidenote, I forgot to address your question about Leva's reaction to Dar's demise. Perhaps you could write something. I'm curious to know how the war will change Leva by 2376 anyway.
Re: Prologue
Thanks DarKush and yeah, Dar’s death has to be addressed somehow as it would certainly have a major effect on Leva. The only problem is that it doesn’t happen until 2376 and Star Eagle has only just entered 2374. I don’t really want to write stories about the ‘future’ yet in order to stay on track. With your permission Dar’s death will most definitely be mentioned in one of the later stories.
Thanks DarKush and yeah, Dar’s death has to be addressed somehow as it would certainly have a major effect on Leva. The only problem is that it doesn’t happen until 2376 and Star Eagle has only just entered 2374. I don’t really want to write stories about the ‘future’ yet in order to stay on track. With your permission Dar’s death will most definitely be mentioned in one of the later stories.
Re: Prologue
Chapter XII – Double Vision
Formerly Third – now Second – Genu’tia did not know why he and his men had been ordered to guard the entrance to mine shaft 6B and he didn’t require any explanation. He had asked for none. Instead he would do exactly what he had been told, nothing more and nothing less.
6B was really nothing more than a large underground cavern which had once functioned as a central collection point for the ore which would have been delivered through a number of smaller tunnels which branched off deeper into the earth. Of course the Jem’Hadar soldier knew nothing of the history of the mine. All he knew for certain was that twelve men were not enough to defend the extensive cavern, filled with rusty equipment and spanning four levels.
He had stationed three of his men at each of the main access points, leaving him with three additional soldiers to keep an eye on things from a small raised platform at the center of the cavern. Sensory equipment would not help them in detecting enemies due to the high level of radiation in the mine. They would have to rely instead on their sharp vision which was slightly compromised by the low levels of light.
Communications were equally unreliable and they depended on routine oral reports from the teams protecting the perimeters. The second team was now one minute overdue for their report and this worried Second Genu’tia greatly. Jem’Hadar were meticulously punctual creatures. Something was amiss.
He turned to his lieutenant. “Check on team one and report.”
The solider nodded curtly and swiftly headed towards one of the entrances but not before shrouding himself, making him near-invisible to his enemies.
A sudden quiet but dull noise startled Genu’tia. It had come from one of the other access points and he was unable to attribute it to anything he recognized. The Jem’Hadar’s hearing was good of course but nowhere as refined as that of the Vorta and the sound had been very subdued, just low enough to awaken his curiosity.
He took a few steps into the direction and soon realized that his men who had been placed there were no longer visible.
“Second!”
Genu’tia whipped around at the sound of his lieutenant.
He had reappeared and had an almost panicked expression on his face, his weapon held at the ready. “I believe we’re under –“
A phaser blast cut him off. The sound of the beam had been suppressed to not much more than a gentle whoosh but the nearly instantaneous flash of light was evidence of the attackers. The solider collapsed instantly.
“Starfleet!” Genu’tia called out to his men. “Engage,” he added and then activated his own shroud and blindly firing a number of blasts towards the source of the attack, somewhere above them.
His two remaining men never got the chance. One was cut down immediately by another sniper blast and the second had been drilled within seconds by phaser fire coming from three separate directions. The enemy was advancing from all sides. It was a splendid tactic, one worth of the Jem’Hadar in fact but the Second didn’t have time to contemplate the efficiency.
He noticed three two-man teams closing in on the center of the cavern. They knew he was there – the sole survivor – and they were looking for him.
Genu’tia remained shrouded and on the move, desperately trying to find a way to defeat this greatly overpowering force without falling victim to them. He had to move carefully. The Jem’Hadar shroud was good but not perfect. He managed to get behind one of the teams – realizing for the first time that they were not the usual Starfleet troops he had faced before – and leveled his weapon.
“I can smell you, Jem’Hadar!”
The booming voice was coming from behind him. He turned just in time to be able to deflect a razor-sharp blade being swung towards him with his rifle. But the large Klingon now motivated by the discovery of his enemy, didn’t let up. Genu’tia’s rifle fired but the shot went wide. It was all the Klingon needed and the Jem’Hadar knew it. In a last desperate attempt the Second unsheathed his small curved dagger and charged the warrior. “For the glory of the Founders!” he yelled.
The dagger was no match for the bat’leth which bore itself deep into the Jem’Hadar’s flesh. Genu’tia’s cloak failed and he became fully visible as his dead body sacked to the ground. The Klingon roared with delight at the sight of the slain enemy.
A few meters above, lying prone close to the rock ledge, Lieutenant Commander Leva and Major Wasco were observing the scene below. A few moments later one of the Marines looked up towards the officers and gave an all-clear signal.
“Your men are impressive,” Leva said as he stood, for the first time noticing the two snipers which had taken hidden positions within the cavern. “I wish I could say the same for the Klingon.”
Wasco followed suit, giving him a puzzled expression. “He found and killed their leader.”
But Leva was not listening, instead he quickly headed down the slope that would lead him into the main pit of the cavern. He found D’Karr still standing proudly over the body of the Jem’Hadar soldier he had slain. A few of the Marines stood close, congratulating the Klingon.
“Which part of stealth attack did you not understand, Lieutenant?” Leva said angrily as he approached.
It took the warrior a moment to realize that the Romulan was directing his rage at him. “The enemy has been defeated, that is all that matters.”
“No,” Leva shot back. “What matters is the mission and we cannot afford you shouting and screaming like a mad man, running the risk of alarming every single Jem’Hadar between here and Cardassia Prime to our presence.”
“Sir, our initial stealth attack was already compromised when the Jem’Hadar returned fire,” offered First Lieutenant J’ret, slightly perplexed by the extent of the half-Romulan’s anger.
Leva ignored him completely. “The next time you will follow the orders you have been given. If you cannot do that you are nothing more than a liability to this mission and might as well turn around now. Do I make myself clear?”
“You did not participate in the battle,” the Klingon spat, throwing all attempts of sensitivity out of the window. “How could you judge what happened here?”
Eagle’s tactical officer looked at him with an expression of disbelieve. “You call yourself honorable and yet you have not the slightest understanding of how to respect a superior officer. Tell me, Lieutenant, are all Klingons this hypocritical or are you a special case?”
D’Carr bared his teeth and slightly raised his sword. “You would do well in choosing your words more carefully,” he said quietly but with all the menace of a man ready to kill for much less than the wrong word.
“Gentleman,” Major Wasco intervened. “We still have a mission to accomplish. I suggest we focus on that.”
Leva and D’Carr glances remained locked for a few more seconds before the Romulan turned his back towards the man. “It’s like talking to a damned wall,” he said and passed Wasco. “I told you, you’d regret bringing him.”
Anthony Wasco shot a quick look at his men who had become too invested into the conflict between the Starfleet officer and the Klingon warrior. He didn’t have to say a single word for them to file back into formation and await the next order. He sighed inwardly wondering why not everything could be as simple and straight forward as the Corps.
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Initiating a low yield photon burst without main power was not an easy task by and standards. Fortunately Lieutenant Commander Xylion had brought half a dozen fully charged power cells with him which would allow him to tap into Epsilon Twelve’s emergency power reserves which in turn would allow him to initiate the photons. The plan was not guaranteed to produce any kind of success but it was currently the only plan he had.
It had taken him nearly ten minutes in the narrow access tube to configure the sensors to accept energy from the power cells and he realized that it would take at least twice as long to try and initiate the burst. He had managed to maintain his focus completely on his work as there had been no sign of Monroe since he she had left.
He suddenly stopped when he heard the door to the room below being opened. He looked down but could see nothing but the empty red-lit shaft. He heard footsteps coming closer.
“Commander Xylion?” It was Shelby Monroe’s voice and she sounded anxious. “What’s your progress?”
Xylion could still not see her when he replied. “I am transferring power to the main sensor array now. I estimated that I can begin to initiate the burst in twenty-six minutes.”
“I don’t think we have that kind of time,” she replied
“Please explain.”
“There is something else –“ she suddenly stopped speaking.
“Commander?”
No reply.
Xylion began to climb down towards the room below.
“Son of a bitch!” Monroe cried. There was another noise, then phaser blasts. A thud, then nothing.
“Commander, what has happened?” Xylion asked again, now increasing his pace to get to the room below.
When he cleared the access shaft he immediately spotted the seemingly unconscious body of Shelby Monroe propped against the wall. His first instinct was to reach for the place where he had placed his phaser rifle but it was no longer there.
The room appeared to be empty so he carefully approached Monroe. Her body was entirely motionless, he noticed before he had even reached her. She didn’t appear to be breathing.
He knelt down next to her to check on her pulse.
“Commander.”
The voice calling out for him came from behind him and it sounded extremely familiar.
He whipped around to come face to face with Lieutenant Commander Shelby Monroe. She was holding a phaser rifle, pointed directly at his chest.
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Eagle was on the run again. Her impulse engines were running hotter than they had ever before as every last bit of power was being channeled into the ship’s primary and secondary sub-light engines. The maneuver allowed Eagle to stay significantly ahead of its pursuers but it was a short term solution only. The impulse drive was not going to be able to keep up this kind of strain for long and Eagle was in no shape to face the two Jem’Hadar attack vessels which appeared dead set on putting an end to this little space drama.
The Starfleet ship’s destination was a large asteroid field at the outer edge of the Ligos system. The field was remarkable as its smallest fragments were just about the same size as Eagle itself while the bigger chunks of debris rivaled the mass of a small moon. It was all that remained of Ligos XII, a super-planet which had completely collapsed some ten-thousand years earlier.
The bridge had remained uncharacteristically quiet since they had detected the presence of two more Jem’Hadar ships intended on destroying Eagle. Sensor readings had confirmed that their attackers were in top shape and every computer simulation pitting them against the dilapidated Federation vessel had ended in the same devastating result.
“Lif,” Doctor Wenera whispered to the acting captain who sat in the center chair. “Please tell me you have a plan.”
Culsten nodded slowly and pointed at the image of the asteroid field on the main view screen. “We’re going to hide in there.”
Wenera glanced at the screen and then back at the Krellonian lieutenant. “And then what?”
He looked right into her green eyes. “I haven’t figured out that part yet,” he said with a small smile.
Her astonished expression revealed that it had not been the answer she was hoping for.
“We’re now entering the asteroid field,” Srena reported dryly.
“Find us a good place to hide and prepare to power down all main systems. Keep life support on minimal and sensors on passive scan only,” Culsten said and sat up slightly straighter in his seat.
The order was quickly acknowledged and Eagle dove deeper into the field of humongous space rocks. For a moment he envied Srena for the chance to pilot the ship in between the asteroids. He quickly remembered that he had much more important decisions to make and he knew he had to make them soon. Hiding in the asteroid field would buy them some time, an hour at the most. The Jem’Hadar were not stupid after all and probably quite capable in finding a three point two million ton starship inside an entirely natural debris field. Whatever the next move should be however seemed to elude him for the moment. He needed time to think. Suddenly, looking back at the Andorian’s back he realized that he in fact wished for nothing more than be right where she sat. The command chair had become a lot less comfortable in a very short amount of time.
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After their initial encounter with the Jem’Hadar guards their continuous descent deeper into the mine had been eventless. Their progress was slow however. Not only because of their need to remain undetected as not to overtly encounter another enemy patrol but also because of the increasingly steep terrain. The mine had quite suddenly begun to drop drastically into the earth and the tunnels had become narrower and much more difficult to navigate.
Leva tried to refer to the map displayed on the data padd to get a better picture of where they were going but he soon realized that the tunnels they had entered were no longer represented on the outdated schematics they had brought. The only thing that seemed certain was the fact that their general direction corresponded with the location of Epsilon Twelve.
Both the Romulan and Major Wasco paused in the dark shaft when they spotted the small scouting unit they had sent ahead return.
“Report,” asked Wasco right away.
His Caititan second-in-command replied. “Sir, this path seems to terminate about six hundred meters ahead. There are three narrow vertical shafts leading downwards.”
“Any sign of Jem’Hadar,” Leva wanted to know.
The lieutenant shook his head. “None that we could detect, sir.”
“Let’s have a look,” Wasco said.
A few moments later they reached the end of the shaft just were J’ret had said it would be. There wasn’t much space and the twelve-man strong team quickly began to crowd the small cavern.
The only way to proceed was through the shafts which led downwards, each one not much wider than a starship’s turbo-lift shaft. There was no light down there and their flashlights could not find the bottom.
“It appears we have two choices,” Wasco said. “We either proceed downwards or turn around and find another way.”
The Klingon was first to reply. “It makes no sense for us to turn back,” he said and peered into the darkness below. “Our destination awaits us down there.”
“How would you know?” Leva asked with obvious annoyance.
But the Klingon remained quiet as if he didn’t see the point of speaking to the half-Romulan Starfleet officer.
“I must agree with Mister D’Karr,” The Marine commander said and ventured a look down the void himself. “This seems to be the only direction that will lead us to the outpost.”
Leva tried hard not to show his irritation when he stepped next to Wasco. “It will be difficult to climb down these walls.”
The Major looked up. “My men are trained to for this kind of situation. But I understand if you are not, Commander.”
The Klingon shot Leva an almost amused look. He took immense pleasure at the possibility of the half-Romulan being unable to proceed due to an inherent lack of skill.
Leva decided to ignore D’Karr’s implication. “Don’t worry about me, Major. I was merely pointing out that it might be difficult and time consuming to get all your men thorough one of these shafts.”
The Marine commander nodded curtly. “Agreed. We will split up in three fire teams. I’ll take Alfa through the first shaft. Commander, I suggest you head up Bravo through the second.”
Leva nodded with acknowledgment and didn’t have to wait five seconds to find the members of his squad to form up on him.
Wasco turned towards a slender fiery-red haired Marine. “Master Sergeant, you’ll lead the third team.”
“Yes, sir,” he replied almost instantly and tended to his men.
“What do you expect me to do?” D’Karr protested.
Wasco pointed towards Shinsky, the red-haired sergeant. “Charlie team is one man short. You will lend support.”
“Support?” The Klingon echoed with disbelief. “I’m a leader, Major, not a follower. Put me in charge,” he demanded.
Leva, overhearing the Klingon’s defiant tone and turned towards D’Karr. “You will do as you are told, Lieutenant.”
The warrior barred his sharp teeth and took a challenging step towards the Romulan while Leva placed a hand dangerously close to his holstered phaser.
But D’Karr backed off with sudden laughter. “You want me to follow?” he said to Wasco. “I’ll follow. But if wish for us to survive this battle you’d better change your mind and soon,” he said and then approached Shinsky. “Orders?” he barked.
“Was that a threat?” Leva asked the major in a hushed tone.
He shook his head. “He is a Klingon, he is not afraid to die in battle.”
Leva turned away appalled to keep his eyes on the Klingon any longer than necessary. “If he dies in battle he better make sure it’s fighting the enemy,” he added quietly and then joined fire team Bravo again which was just about to descend into the depth of the mine.
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The golden-haired Tenarian had surprised Commander Edison when she had suddenly reached out for her phaser rifle and approached the now sealed blast door leading into the engineering section.
“Dee?” he asked slightly irritated by her unexpected behavior.
She shot him a glance, putting her index finger against her lips as she continued to sneak up to the heavy door.
The first officer, now intrigued, quickly found his own weapon and followed Deen.
She moved all the way up to the door until her head was just inches from the metallic surface.
“What is it?” he whispered once he realized that she was trying to hear something faint.
“I think it might be a code,” she replied in an equally hushed tone. “It’s getting louder.”
And then he heard it as well. It was too regular to be unintentional.
It was a soft banging, metal against metal, but Commander Eugene Edison did not recognize a pattern no matter how hard he tried to focus on it.
“Somebody is out there,” he concluded.
Deen nodded as she continued to listen to the sounds with close attention. “It’s a mathematical sequence. A mixture of digits and letters, I think.”
It was no simple Morse code, that, Edison would have recognized. “Can you tell what it says?”
Deen’s facial expression mirrored her rapt concentration. “Nine-four-one-two-one. A-one-one-R,” she said slowly and then looked at Edison. “It’s repeating it.”
A sudden flash of recognition crossed the first officer’s features. “Open the door.”
She gave him a puzzled look.
But Edison gave her a re-affirming nod and then raised his phaser rifle towards the gate, ready to obliterate whatever stood behind it in the case he had been wrong.
Deen proceeded to the controls and activated the release mechanism which thankfully ran on auxiliary battery power while the main generators were down.
The blast gate began to lift slowly, revealing a clearly humanoid form, wearing a Starfleet uniform. He stood alone and waited patiently until the gate had fully exposed him.
“Xylion?” Deen said in recognition, a sigh of relief coming over her lips.
Edison who had already expected to see the Vulcan now nodded. “It’s his serial number,” he explained.
On closer inspection they both realized that his uniform shirt was slightly torn and that he had scratches covering much of his skin. He was not armed.
Edison swiftly approached him. “Come in, Commander,” he said and then double checked that the corridor behind the Vulcan was empty. Once he was satisfied he turned back to Deen. “Close it.”
She complied immediately.
Edison lowered his rifle as he turned to the science officer who from the looks of it had only recently been in quite a scuffle. “Don’t get me wrong, Commander, I’m glad to see you but what are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to stay in the auxiliary control room.”
“I am afraid, sir, I have bad news,” the Vulcan said. He seemed a little out of breath which Edison immediately took as a sign that whatever had happened to him was much worse than he had thought initially. “We were attacked by a changeling.”
Deen gasped.
“I believe it is now posing as either myself or Commander Monroe. Returning to the control room was not an option.”
Edison nodded slowly. He took the news calmly but his mind was racing with the possible implications of this new factor. “Who else knows about its presence on the station?”
“I cannot be certain,” he replied. “Commander Monroe and I were separated from the others when it attacked.
The Tenarian took a seat. “If nobody knows about the changeling, it could take anyone’s form and strike at anytime. We have to warn the others.”
“Easier said than done,” said Edison. “Without communications we cannot get in contact with anyone.”
The Vulcan nodded slightly in agreement. “I do not suggest we attempt to leave here. I managed to sidestep at least two Jem’Hadar patrols on my way here. It was only by coincidence that I was not discovered.”
Deen shook her head and turned to look away from the two officers. “So we are surrounded by Jem’Hadar soldiers, headed by a changeling who can take on the form of anything and anyone, we have no means of communication and no power,” she looked back at Edison, her eyes reflected a hopelessness she had rarely displayed before. “How could this get any worse?”
For a moment Eugene Edison had no response. The situation was grim. In addition to what Deen had correctly pointed out he was also aware that he had no way of knowing if the captain had been successful with his plan to contact Eagle or if he was even still alive for that matter. He couldn’t help but think about Nora. If Owens was dead than so was she. Nora Laas would not allow for the captain to be killed unless she herself was unable to prevent it. The possibility of losing Laas filled him with a near debilitating sadness.
“I suggest we focus our efforts on restoring main power. We might be able to re-establish communications if we can re-start the generators,” explained the Vulcan science officer once he realized that Edison’s thoughts were somewhere else.
The first officer quickly nodded, silently chastising himself for losing focus in the current situation. “That seems to be our only chance at the moment. Commander, I suggest you go see if you can assist Lieutenant Hopkins.”
The Vulcan science officers acknowledged with a subtle head gesture and without speaking another word left towards the generator room.
“Good luck with that,” said Deen after him.
The Vulcan froze and shot her an asking expression which she answered with nothing more than a small smile. The Vulcan decided to ignore the comment and exited the room.
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Patience was not one of the Jem’Hadar’s greatest strengths. Certainly they would never complain or act without specific orders from the Vorta but their nature demanded that they were either preparing for combat or engaging the enemy. Everything else was simply a waste of their purpose. At the moment First Teleka’clan and his men were doing neither. Instead they were waiting. Waiting for something to happen, for an order to attack an unspecified target at an unspecified location. Considering their numbers it was an important target indeed and their victory seemed guaranteed. But the delay was making him restless. He could smell his enemy, that’s how close they were, but he had not been allowed to be unleashed. It made no sense to him.
“You are concerned.”
The Jem’Hadar leader couldn’t believe he had been so distracted that he had allowed the Vorta to approach him unnoticed. It was an almost unforgivable mistake and attestation that his idle state was beginning to make him ineffectual.
“We have lost contact with at least two of our scouting units,” he answered.
The Vorta nodded slowly as if it wasn’t a concern to him. “Communications are unreliable for a very good reason. The increased level of radiation ensures that our enemy remains isolated and confused. When we begin our strike they will not be able to prepare for it,” he explained like he would a child. “It is a nuisance we have to be willing to accept for now.”
The Jem’Hadar didn’t say it but he was not satisfied by the explanation at all. The communications black-out his men could deal with but some had still failed to report to him which was an indication that something was going wrong. The arrogant Vorta however didn’t want to hear anything about that. He was too concerned with his overall plan which he was adamant not to reveal to him.
“I know that you yearn for battle,” he said in an overly understanding manner. He clasped his hands behind his back and begun to round Teleka’clan. “You Jem’Hadar are a curious people. You need battle like you need the ketracel-white drug in your system. You mustn’t worry. You will get your share of slaughter soon enough.”
The Vorta stood with his back to the Jem’Hadar First. He suddenly reached for his ear as if he could hear something that Teleka’clan could not. He whipped around. “Rally your man,” he said a wide, arrogant smile on his face. “We will attack very shortly.”
The soldier nodded and prepared to leave.
“First Teleka’clan.”
He froze and faced the Vorta once more.
“You and a contingent of your men will remain behind. We have some other plans for you,” he said, maintaining that irritating smile.
The Jem’Hadar twitched slightly when he realized that the Vorta seemed to be toying with him on purpose. More so he even took pleasure from it. He had been denied the glory of battle since he had set foot on this planet. Now as they were about to attack, he, once again was told to watch from afar. Something else suddenly preoccupied him however. For the first time the Vorta had acknowledged that he was not the only individual making the decisions. He could only guess who else was giving orders.
“Obedience brings victory!”
Wegnour nodded slowly, his eyes gleaming with joy. “It certainly does.”
The Jem’Hadar turned on his heel and left to instruct his men.
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We’re being shadowed. One or more individuals. Two hundred meters.
Owens had perfected the sign language Nora used to communicate with him in a very short time. He couldn’t deny its practicability in a situation in which their com-badges refused to operate and the enemy could lay in wait behind every corner.
They had only just reached the engineering deck when the security officer had indicated that somebody was not too far behind them. Without exchanging more than a few words they had hatched a plan to lure them out in the open and confront them.
Of course the most likely scenario was that it was the Jem’Hadar who were on their tails but somehow Owens doubted that they would have elected such a stealthy approach. He couldn’t be certain anymore however. Nothing about this entire mission had turned out the way he had expected ever since they had first detected the Jem’Hadar following Eagle.
In order to trap whoever was following and have a realistic chance to dispose of them Owens and Nora had decided to split up at a cross-corridor. One of them would try to turn back and attempt to pick up the enemy from behind.
Once the captain was alone he suddenly regretted the idea. He wasn’t necessarily scared. After all the chance of losing his life on this damned outpost had been a very possible reality from the moment they had first encountered the Jem’Hadar. But he knew that without the vigilant Bajoran at his side his chances of survival had suddenly taken a very serious hit. Nora was the one who would track back and so it was his job to simply continue on until he would find a good spot to whip around and confront whoever was following him.
He took his time. Not only because it was difficult to locate an appropriate place for an ambush in the dark corridor but he also had to allow for Nora to get into position. If he engaged without her covering him he was as good as dead.
He soon entered a part of the station which was filled with containers and cargo crates. Plenty of opportunities for cover. He took a deep breath and then quickly slipped behind two large barrels. He took a knee and rested his phaser rifle on the top of the barrel, aiming it at the corridor from which he himself had emerged just moments earlier. He listened intently for footsteps.
A full, agonizing minute passed without anything happening.
Then he heard it. A phaser blast. Followed by another. A yelp of pain that sounded somewhat feminine, followed by a loud curse. They were struggling and from the sound of it Nora was not on the winning side.
Without another thought, Owens jumped out from behinid his cover and hurried down the corridor. He carefully took the corner, always keeping his weapon ahead of him and ready to fire, and found Nora Laas pinned against wall, held up by a person of impressive stature. She tried to free herself but her attacker was clearly much stronger than her.
The captain took aim at what appeared to be a man in order to pulverize him into a million atoms. He froze when the light beam of his weapon-mounted flashlight fully revealed the attacker.
The man spotted the light and turned his head.
It was all Nora needed. Her boot found his vulnerable knee and he instantly stumbled backwards, letting go of the Bajoran. Nora followed up with a high kick against his mid-section which forced hard against the opposing wall.
Fast as lightning Nora drew her sidearm.
“Wait!” Owens shouted and quickly approached.
Nora kept her weapon pointed at the enemy but held her fire.
Owens also kept his weapon on him but for a different reason. The bright light fully exposed the man’s familiar uniform, his short black hair and his distinctly pointed ears.
Nora finally recognized who she had tried to kill just a second earlier. “Commander?”
Xylion looked up. His face showed no signs of pain or irritation and when he spoke neither did his voice. “I apologize for the show of force on my part but you did not provide me with an opportunity to identify myself.”
The security chief holstered her weapon. “I could have killed you,” she said, purposefully leaving out the part in which the stronger Vulcan had caught her dead to rights if Owens hadn’t interfered. She had tried to sneak up on him but his superior hearing had allowed him to be aware of her presence before she could strike.
“Commander,” Owens said his relief of finding a friendly face now quite evident. “What happened?”
“I am afraid,” he began, “we were attacked and Commander Monroe and I were separated. I also believe that we might be facing an enemy we were not aware of previously.”
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Stay tuned for Chapter XIII: Duty
Chapter XII – Double Vision
Formerly Third – now Second – Genu’tia did not know why he and his men had been ordered to guard the entrance to mine shaft 6B and he didn’t require any explanation. He had asked for none. Instead he would do exactly what he had been told, nothing more and nothing less.
6B was really nothing more than a large underground cavern which had once functioned as a central collection point for the ore which would have been delivered through a number of smaller tunnels which branched off deeper into the earth. Of course the Jem’Hadar soldier knew nothing of the history of the mine. All he knew for certain was that twelve men were not enough to defend the extensive cavern, filled with rusty equipment and spanning four levels.
He had stationed three of his men at each of the main access points, leaving him with three additional soldiers to keep an eye on things from a small raised platform at the center of the cavern. Sensory equipment would not help them in detecting enemies due to the high level of radiation in the mine. They would have to rely instead on their sharp vision which was slightly compromised by the low levels of light.
Communications were equally unreliable and they depended on routine oral reports from the teams protecting the perimeters. The second team was now one minute overdue for their report and this worried Second Genu’tia greatly. Jem’Hadar were meticulously punctual creatures. Something was amiss.
He turned to his lieutenant. “Check on team one and report.”
The solider nodded curtly and swiftly headed towards one of the entrances but not before shrouding himself, making him near-invisible to his enemies.
A sudden quiet but dull noise startled Genu’tia. It had come from one of the other access points and he was unable to attribute it to anything he recognized. The Jem’Hadar’s hearing was good of course but nowhere as refined as that of the Vorta and the sound had been very subdued, just low enough to awaken his curiosity.
He took a few steps into the direction and soon realized that his men who had been placed there were no longer visible.
“Second!”
Genu’tia whipped around at the sound of his lieutenant.
He had reappeared and had an almost panicked expression on his face, his weapon held at the ready. “I believe we’re under –“
A phaser blast cut him off. The sound of the beam had been suppressed to not much more than a gentle whoosh but the nearly instantaneous flash of light was evidence of the attackers. The solider collapsed instantly.
“Starfleet!” Genu’tia called out to his men. “Engage,” he added and then activated his own shroud and blindly firing a number of blasts towards the source of the attack, somewhere above them.
His two remaining men never got the chance. One was cut down immediately by another sniper blast and the second had been drilled within seconds by phaser fire coming from three separate directions. The enemy was advancing from all sides. It was a splendid tactic, one worth of the Jem’Hadar in fact but the Second didn’t have time to contemplate the efficiency.
He noticed three two-man teams closing in on the center of the cavern. They knew he was there – the sole survivor – and they were looking for him.
Genu’tia remained shrouded and on the move, desperately trying to find a way to defeat this greatly overpowering force without falling victim to them. He had to move carefully. The Jem’Hadar shroud was good but not perfect. He managed to get behind one of the teams – realizing for the first time that they were not the usual Starfleet troops he had faced before – and leveled his weapon.
“I can smell you, Jem’Hadar!”
The booming voice was coming from behind him. He turned just in time to be able to deflect a razor-sharp blade being swung towards him with his rifle. But the large Klingon now motivated by the discovery of his enemy, didn’t let up. Genu’tia’s rifle fired but the shot went wide. It was all the Klingon needed and the Jem’Hadar knew it. In a last desperate attempt the Second unsheathed his small curved dagger and charged the warrior. “For the glory of the Founders!” he yelled.
The dagger was no match for the bat’leth which bore itself deep into the Jem’Hadar’s flesh. Genu’tia’s cloak failed and he became fully visible as his dead body sacked to the ground. The Klingon roared with delight at the sight of the slain enemy.
A few meters above, lying prone close to the rock ledge, Lieutenant Commander Leva and Major Wasco were observing the scene below. A few moments later one of the Marines looked up towards the officers and gave an all-clear signal.
“Your men are impressive,” Leva said as he stood, for the first time noticing the two snipers which had taken hidden positions within the cavern. “I wish I could say the same for the Klingon.”
Wasco followed suit, giving him a puzzled expression. “He found and killed their leader.”
But Leva was not listening, instead he quickly headed down the slope that would lead him into the main pit of the cavern. He found D’Karr still standing proudly over the body of the Jem’Hadar soldier he had slain. A few of the Marines stood close, congratulating the Klingon.
“Which part of stealth attack did you not understand, Lieutenant?” Leva said angrily as he approached.
It took the warrior a moment to realize that the Romulan was directing his rage at him. “The enemy has been defeated, that is all that matters.”
“No,” Leva shot back. “What matters is the mission and we cannot afford you shouting and screaming like a mad man, running the risk of alarming every single Jem’Hadar between here and Cardassia Prime to our presence.”
“Sir, our initial stealth attack was already compromised when the Jem’Hadar returned fire,” offered First Lieutenant J’ret, slightly perplexed by the extent of the half-Romulan’s anger.
Leva ignored him completely. “The next time you will follow the orders you have been given. If you cannot do that you are nothing more than a liability to this mission and might as well turn around now. Do I make myself clear?”
“You did not participate in the battle,” the Klingon spat, throwing all attempts of sensitivity out of the window. “How could you judge what happened here?”
Eagle’s tactical officer looked at him with an expression of disbelieve. “You call yourself honorable and yet you have not the slightest understanding of how to respect a superior officer. Tell me, Lieutenant, are all Klingons this hypocritical or are you a special case?”
D’Carr bared his teeth and slightly raised his sword. “You would do well in choosing your words more carefully,” he said quietly but with all the menace of a man ready to kill for much less than the wrong word.
“Gentleman,” Major Wasco intervened. “We still have a mission to accomplish. I suggest we focus on that.”
Leva and D’Carr glances remained locked for a few more seconds before the Romulan turned his back towards the man. “It’s like talking to a damned wall,” he said and passed Wasco. “I told you, you’d regret bringing him.”
Anthony Wasco shot a quick look at his men who had become too invested into the conflict between the Starfleet officer and the Klingon warrior. He didn’t have to say a single word for them to file back into formation and await the next order. He sighed inwardly wondering why not everything could be as simple and straight forward as the Corps.
******************************************************************************
Initiating a low yield photon burst without main power was not an easy task by and standards. Fortunately Lieutenant Commander Xylion had brought half a dozen fully charged power cells with him which would allow him to tap into Epsilon Twelve’s emergency power reserves which in turn would allow him to initiate the photons. The plan was not guaranteed to produce any kind of success but it was currently the only plan he had.
It had taken him nearly ten minutes in the narrow access tube to configure the sensors to accept energy from the power cells and he realized that it would take at least twice as long to try and initiate the burst. He had managed to maintain his focus completely on his work as there had been no sign of Monroe since he she had left.
He suddenly stopped when he heard the door to the room below being opened. He looked down but could see nothing but the empty red-lit shaft. He heard footsteps coming closer.
“Commander Xylion?” It was Shelby Monroe’s voice and she sounded anxious. “What’s your progress?”
Xylion could still not see her when he replied. “I am transferring power to the main sensor array now. I estimated that I can begin to initiate the burst in twenty-six minutes.”
“I don’t think we have that kind of time,” she replied
“Please explain.”
“There is something else –“ she suddenly stopped speaking.
“Commander?”
No reply.
Xylion began to climb down towards the room below.
“Son of a bitch!” Monroe cried. There was another noise, then phaser blasts. A thud, then nothing.
“Commander, what has happened?” Xylion asked again, now increasing his pace to get to the room below.
When he cleared the access shaft he immediately spotted the seemingly unconscious body of Shelby Monroe propped against the wall. His first instinct was to reach for the place where he had placed his phaser rifle but it was no longer there.
The room appeared to be empty so he carefully approached Monroe. Her body was entirely motionless, he noticed before he had even reached her. She didn’t appear to be breathing.
He knelt down next to her to check on her pulse.
“Commander.”
The voice calling out for him came from behind him and it sounded extremely familiar.
He whipped around to come face to face with Lieutenant Commander Shelby Monroe. She was holding a phaser rifle, pointed directly at his chest.
******************************************************************************
Eagle was on the run again. Her impulse engines were running hotter than they had ever before as every last bit of power was being channeled into the ship’s primary and secondary sub-light engines. The maneuver allowed Eagle to stay significantly ahead of its pursuers but it was a short term solution only. The impulse drive was not going to be able to keep up this kind of strain for long and Eagle was in no shape to face the two Jem’Hadar attack vessels which appeared dead set on putting an end to this little space drama.
The Starfleet ship’s destination was a large asteroid field at the outer edge of the Ligos system. The field was remarkable as its smallest fragments were just about the same size as Eagle itself while the bigger chunks of debris rivaled the mass of a small moon. It was all that remained of Ligos XII, a super-planet which had completely collapsed some ten-thousand years earlier.
The bridge had remained uncharacteristically quiet since they had detected the presence of two more Jem’Hadar ships intended on destroying Eagle. Sensor readings had confirmed that their attackers were in top shape and every computer simulation pitting them against the dilapidated Federation vessel had ended in the same devastating result.
“Lif,” Doctor Wenera whispered to the acting captain who sat in the center chair. “Please tell me you have a plan.”
Culsten nodded slowly and pointed at the image of the asteroid field on the main view screen. “We’re going to hide in there.”
Wenera glanced at the screen and then back at the Krellonian lieutenant. “And then what?”
He looked right into her green eyes. “I haven’t figured out that part yet,” he said with a small smile.
Her astonished expression revealed that it had not been the answer she was hoping for.
“We’re now entering the asteroid field,” Srena reported dryly.
“Find us a good place to hide and prepare to power down all main systems. Keep life support on minimal and sensors on passive scan only,” Culsten said and sat up slightly straighter in his seat.
The order was quickly acknowledged and Eagle dove deeper into the field of humongous space rocks. For a moment he envied Srena for the chance to pilot the ship in between the asteroids. He quickly remembered that he had much more important decisions to make and he knew he had to make them soon. Hiding in the asteroid field would buy them some time, an hour at the most. The Jem’Hadar were not stupid after all and probably quite capable in finding a three point two million ton starship inside an entirely natural debris field. Whatever the next move should be however seemed to elude him for the moment. He needed time to think. Suddenly, looking back at the Andorian’s back he realized that he in fact wished for nothing more than be right where she sat. The command chair had become a lot less comfortable in a very short amount of time.
******************************************************************************
After their initial encounter with the Jem’Hadar guards their continuous descent deeper into the mine had been eventless. Their progress was slow however. Not only because of their need to remain undetected as not to overtly encounter another enemy patrol but also because of the increasingly steep terrain. The mine had quite suddenly begun to drop drastically into the earth and the tunnels had become narrower and much more difficult to navigate.
Leva tried to refer to the map displayed on the data padd to get a better picture of where they were going but he soon realized that the tunnels they had entered were no longer represented on the outdated schematics they had brought. The only thing that seemed certain was the fact that their general direction corresponded with the location of Epsilon Twelve.
Both the Romulan and Major Wasco paused in the dark shaft when they spotted the small scouting unit they had sent ahead return.
“Report,” asked Wasco right away.
His Caititan second-in-command replied. “Sir, this path seems to terminate about six hundred meters ahead. There are three narrow vertical shafts leading downwards.”
“Any sign of Jem’Hadar,” Leva wanted to know.
The lieutenant shook his head. “None that we could detect, sir.”
“Let’s have a look,” Wasco said.
A few moments later they reached the end of the shaft just were J’ret had said it would be. There wasn’t much space and the twelve-man strong team quickly began to crowd the small cavern.
The only way to proceed was through the shafts which led downwards, each one not much wider than a starship’s turbo-lift shaft. There was no light down there and their flashlights could not find the bottom.
“It appears we have two choices,” Wasco said. “We either proceed downwards or turn around and find another way.”
The Klingon was first to reply. “It makes no sense for us to turn back,” he said and peered into the darkness below. “Our destination awaits us down there.”
“How would you know?” Leva asked with obvious annoyance.
But the Klingon remained quiet as if he didn’t see the point of speaking to the half-Romulan Starfleet officer.
“I must agree with Mister D’Karr,” The Marine commander said and ventured a look down the void himself. “This seems to be the only direction that will lead us to the outpost.”
Leva tried hard not to show his irritation when he stepped next to Wasco. “It will be difficult to climb down these walls.”
The Major looked up. “My men are trained to for this kind of situation. But I understand if you are not, Commander.”
The Klingon shot Leva an almost amused look. He took immense pleasure at the possibility of the half-Romulan being unable to proceed due to an inherent lack of skill.
Leva decided to ignore D’Karr’s implication. “Don’t worry about me, Major. I was merely pointing out that it might be difficult and time consuming to get all your men thorough one of these shafts.”
The Marine commander nodded curtly. “Agreed. We will split up in three fire teams. I’ll take Alfa through the first shaft. Commander, I suggest you head up Bravo through the second.”
Leva nodded with acknowledgment and didn’t have to wait five seconds to find the members of his squad to form up on him.
Wasco turned towards a slender fiery-red haired Marine. “Master Sergeant, you’ll lead the third team.”
“Yes, sir,” he replied almost instantly and tended to his men.
“What do you expect me to do?” D’Karr protested.
Wasco pointed towards Shinsky, the red-haired sergeant. “Charlie team is one man short. You will lend support.”
“Support?” The Klingon echoed with disbelief. “I’m a leader, Major, not a follower. Put me in charge,” he demanded.
Leva, overhearing the Klingon’s defiant tone and turned towards D’Karr. “You will do as you are told, Lieutenant.”
The warrior barred his sharp teeth and took a challenging step towards the Romulan while Leva placed a hand dangerously close to his holstered phaser.
But D’Karr backed off with sudden laughter. “You want me to follow?” he said to Wasco. “I’ll follow. But if wish for us to survive this battle you’d better change your mind and soon,” he said and then approached Shinsky. “Orders?” he barked.
“Was that a threat?” Leva asked the major in a hushed tone.
He shook his head. “He is a Klingon, he is not afraid to die in battle.”
Leva turned away appalled to keep his eyes on the Klingon any longer than necessary. “If he dies in battle he better make sure it’s fighting the enemy,” he added quietly and then joined fire team Bravo again which was just about to descend into the depth of the mine.
******************************************************************************
The golden-haired Tenarian had surprised Commander Edison when she had suddenly reached out for her phaser rifle and approached the now sealed blast door leading into the engineering section.
“Dee?” he asked slightly irritated by her unexpected behavior.
She shot him a glance, putting her index finger against her lips as she continued to sneak up to the heavy door.
The first officer, now intrigued, quickly found his own weapon and followed Deen.
She moved all the way up to the door until her head was just inches from the metallic surface.
“What is it?” he whispered once he realized that she was trying to hear something faint.
“I think it might be a code,” she replied in an equally hushed tone. “It’s getting louder.”
And then he heard it as well. It was too regular to be unintentional.
It was a soft banging, metal against metal, but Commander Eugene Edison did not recognize a pattern no matter how hard he tried to focus on it.
“Somebody is out there,” he concluded.
Deen nodded as she continued to listen to the sounds with close attention. “It’s a mathematical sequence. A mixture of digits and letters, I think.”
It was no simple Morse code, that, Edison would have recognized. “Can you tell what it says?”
Deen’s facial expression mirrored her rapt concentration. “Nine-four-one-two-one. A-one-one-R,” she said slowly and then looked at Edison. “It’s repeating it.”
A sudden flash of recognition crossed the first officer’s features. “Open the door.”
She gave him a puzzled look.
But Edison gave her a re-affirming nod and then raised his phaser rifle towards the gate, ready to obliterate whatever stood behind it in the case he had been wrong.
Deen proceeded to the controls and activated the release mechanism which thankfully ran on auxiliary battery power while the main generators were down.
The blast gate began to lift slowly, revealing a clearly humanoid form, wearing a Starfleet uniform. He stood alone and waited patiently until the gate had fully exposed him.
“Xylion?” Deen said in recognition, a sigh of relief coming over her lips.
Edison who had already expected to see the Vulcan now nodded. “It’s his serial number,” he explained.
On closer inspection they both realized that his uniform shirt was slightly torn and that he had scratches covering much of his skin. He was not armed.
Edison swiftly approached him. “Come in, Commander,” he said and then double checked that the corridor behind the Vulcan was empty. Once he was satisfied he turned back to Deen. “Close it.”
She complied immediately.
Edison lowered his rifle as he turned to the science officer who from the looks of it had only recently been in quite a scuffle. “Don’t get me wrong, Commander, I’m glad to see you but what are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to stay in the auxiliary control room.”
“I am afraid, sir, I have bad news,” the Vulcan said. He seemed a little out of breath which Edison immediately took as a sign that whatever had happened to him was much worse than he had thought initially. “We were attacked by a changeling.”
Deen gasped.
“I believe it is now posing as either myself or Commander Monroe. Returning to the control room was not an option.”
Edison nodded slowly. He took the news calmly but his mind was racing with the possible implications of this new factor. “Who else knows about its presence on the station?”
“I cannot be certain,” he replied. “Commander Monroe and I were separated from the others when it attacked.
The Tenarian took a seat. “If nobody knows about the changeling, it could take anyone’s form and strike at anytime. We have to warn the others.”
“Easier said than done,” said Edison. “Without communications we cannot get in contact with anyone.”
The Vulcan nodded slightly in agreement. “I do not suggest we attempt to leave here. I managed to sidestep at least two Jem’Hadar patrols on my way here. It was only by coincidence that I was not discovered.”
Deen shook her head and turned to look away from the two officers. “So we are surrounded by Jem’Hadar soldiers, headed by a changeling who can take on the form of anything and anyone, we have no means of communication and no power,” she looked back at Edison, her eyes reflected a hopelessness she had rarely displayed before. “How could this get any worse?”
For a moment Eugene Edison had no response. The situation was grim. In addition to what Deen had correctly pointed out he was also aware that he had no way of knowing if the captain had been successful with his plan to contact Eagle or if he was even still alive for that matter. He couldn’t help but think about Nora. If Owens was dead than so was she. Nora Laas would not allow for the captain to be killed unless she herself was unable to prevent it. The possibility of losing Laas filled him with a near debilitating sadness.
“I suggest we focus our efforts on restoring main power. We might be able to re-establish communications if we can re-start the generators,” explained the Vulcan science officer once he realized that Edison’s thoughts were somewhere else.
The first officer quickly nodded, silently chastising himself for losing focus in the current situation. “That seems to be our only chance at the moment. Commander, I suggest you go see if you can assist Lieutenant Hopkins.”
The Vulcan science officers acknowledged with a subtle head gesture and without speaking another word left towards the generator room.
“Good luck with that,” said Deen after him.
The Vulcan froze and shot her an asking expression which she answered with nothing more than a small smile. The Vulcan decided to ignore the comment and exited the room.
******************************************************************************
Patience was not one of the Jem’Hadar’s greatest strengths. Certainly they would never complain or act without specific orders from the Vorta but their nature demanded that they were either preparing for combat or engaging the enemy. Everything else was simply a waste of their purpose. At the moment First Teleka’clan and his men were doing neither. Instead they were waiting. Waiting for something to happen, for an order to attack an unspecified target at an unspecified location. Considering their numbers it was an important target indeed and their victory seemed guaranteed. But the delay was making him restless. He could smell his enemy, that’s how close they were, but he had not been allowed to be unleashed. It made no sense to him.
“You are concerned.”
The Jem’Hadar leader couldn’t believe he had been so distracted that he had allowed the Vorta to approach him unnoticed. It was an almost unforgivable mistake and attestation that his idle state was beginning to make him ineffectual.
“We have lost contact with at least two of our scouting units,” he answered.
The Vorta nodded slowly as if it wasn’t a concern to him. “Communications are unreliable for a very good reason. The increased level of radiation ensures that our enemy remains isolated and confused. When we begin our strike they will not be able to prepare for it,” he explained like he would a child. “It is a nuisance we have to be willing to accept for now.”
The Jem’Hadar didn’t say it but he was not satisfied by the explanation at all. The communications black-out his men could deal with but some had still failed to report to him which was an indication that something was going wrong. The arrogant Vorta however didn’t want to hear anything about that. He was too concerned with his overall plan which he was adamant not to reveal to him.
“I know that you yearn for battle,” he said in an overly understanding manner. He clasped his hands behind his back and begun to round Teleka’clan. “You Jem’Hadar are a curious people. You need battle like you need the ketracel-white drug in your system. You mustn’t worry. You will get your share of slaughter soon enough.”
The Vorta stood with his back to the Jem’Hadar First. He suddenly reached for his ear as if he could hear something that Teleka’clan could not. He whipped around. “Rally your man,” he said a wide, arrogant smile on his face. “We will attack very shortly.”
The soldier nodded and prepared to leave.
“First Teleka’clan.”
He froze and faced the Vorta once more.
“You and a contingent of your men will remain behind. We have some other plans for you,” he said, maintaining that irritating smile.
The Jem’Hadar twitched slightly when he realized that the Vorta seemed to be toying with him on purpose. More so he even took pleasure from it. He had been denied the glory of battle since he had set foot on this planet. Now as they were about to attack, he, once again was told to watch from afar. Something else suddenly preoccupied him however. For the first time the Vorta had acknowledged that he was not the only individual making the decisions. He could only guess who else was giving orders.
“Obedience brings victory!”
Wegnour nodded slowly, his eyes gleaming with joy. “It certainly does.”
The Jem’Hadar turned on his heel and left to instruct his men.
******************************************************************************
We’re being shadowed. One or more individuals. Two hundred meters.
Owens had perfected the sign language Nora used to communicate with him in a very short time. He couldn’t deny its practicability in a situation in which their com-badges refused to operate and the enemy could lay in wait behind every corner.
They had only just reached the engineering deck when the security officer had indicated that somebody was not too far behind them. Without exchanging more than a few words they had hatched a plan to lure them out in the open and confront them.
Of course the most likely scenario was that it was the Jem’Hadar who were on their tails but somehow Owens doubted that they would have elected such a stealthy approach. He couldn’t be certain anymore however. Nothing about this entire mission had turned out the way he had expected ever since they had first detected the Jem’Hadar following Eagle.
In order to trap whoever was following and have a realistic chance to dispose of them Owens and Nora had decided to split up at a cross-corridor. One of them would try to turn back and attempt to pick up the enemy from behind.
Once the captain was alone he suddenly regretted the idea. He wasn’t necessarily scared. After all the chance of losing his life on this damned outpost had been a very possible reality from the moment they had first encountered the Jem’Hadar. But he knew that without the vigilant Bajoran at his side his chances of survival had suddenly taken a very serious hit. Nora was the one who would track back and so it was his job to simply continue on until he would find a good spot to whip around and confront whoever was following him.
He took his time. Not only because it was difficult to locate an appropriate place for an ambush in the dark corridor but he also had to allow for Nora to get into position. If he engaged without her covering him he was as good as dead.
He soon entered a part of the station which was filled with containers and cargo crates. Plenty of opportunities for cover. He took a deep breath and then quickly slipped behind two large barrels. He took a knee and rested his phaser rifle on the top of the barrel, aiming it at the corridor from which he himself had emerged just moments earlier. He listened intently for footsteps.
A full, agonizing minute passed without anything happening.
Then he heard it. A phaser blast. Followed by another. A yelp of pain that sounded somewhat feminine, followed by a loud curse. They were struggling and from the sound of it Nora was not on the winning side.
Without another thought, Owens jumped out from behinid his cover and hurried down the corridor. He carefully took the corner, always keeping his weapon ahead of him and ready to fire, and found Nora Laas pinned against wall, held up by a person of impressive stature. She tried to free herself but her attacker was clearly much stronger than her.
The captain took aim at what appeared to be a man in order to pulverize him into a million atoms. He froze when the light beam of his weapon-mounted flashlight fully revealed the attacker.
The man spotted the light and turned his head.
It was all Nora needed. Her boot found his vulnerable knee and he instantly stumbled backwards, letting go of the Bajoran. Nora followed up with a high kick against his mid-section which forced hard against the opposing wall.
Fast as lightning Nora drew her sidearm.
“Wait!” Owens shouted and quickly approached.
Nora kept her weapon pointed at the enemy but held her fire.
Owens also kept his weapon on him but for a different reason. The bright light fully exposed the man’s familiar uniform, his short black hair and his distinctly pointed ears.
Nora finally recognized who she had tried to kill just a second earlier. “Commander?”
Xylion looked up. His face showed no signs of pain or irritation and when he spoke neither did his voice. “I apologize for the show of force on my part but you did not provide me with an opportunity to identify myself.”
The security chief holstered her weapon. “I could have killed you,” she said, purposefully leaving out the part in which the stronger Vulcan had caught her dead to rights if Owens hadn’t interfered. She had tried to sneak up on him but his superior hearing had allowed him to be aware of her presence before she could strike.
“Commander,” Owens said his relief of finding a friendly face now quite evident. “What happened?”
“I am afraid,” he began, “we were attacked and Commander Monroe and I were separated. I also believe that we might be facing an enemy we were not aware of previously.”
-----------------------------------------------------------
Stay tuned for Chapter XIII: Duty
Re: Prologue
Will the real Xylion please stand up?
It's looking like the Marines are beginning to get fed up with D'Karr and Leva's little private feud. Here, I would say that Leva's being the bigger jackass. Also, it's looking like the Jemmies have met a worthy foe in the Marines--you've got to be pretty good to sneak up on a Jem'Hadar position.
Very well done!
Will the real Xylion please stand up?
It's looking like the Marines are beginning to get fed up with D'Karr and Leva's little private feud. Here, I would say that Leva's being the bigger jackass. Also, it's looking like the Jemmies have met a worthy foe in the Marines--you've got to be pretty good to sneak up on a Jem'Hadar position.
Very well done!
Re: Prologue
^ Ditto to what David said. The feud between Leva and D'Karr may get some Marines killed. And now a changeling in the mix - Whoo-hoo! This is fun! :thumbsup:
^ Ditto to what David said. The feud between Leva and D'Karr may get some Marines killed. And now a changeling in the mix - Whoo-hoo! This is fun! :thumbsup:
Chapter XIII - Duty
Chapter XIII – Duty
Eagle’s main shuttle bay was located on deck five and at the very end of the large saucer section. It was a huge facility, easily the size of a football field. It was also usually kept empty in case the ship had to quickly launch or bring aboard a support vessel or any other large sized object which would only fit into the bay. However as Eagle had been in a middle of a cargo operation when it was attacked, the deck was currently filled with containers and crates which had been designated for Epsilon Twelve. There had been no time to secure the loose items when the attack had taken place and now much of their content was littering the bay. It was one of Eagle’s smallest problems at the moment.
Doctor Wenera crossed the extensive hall without giving the chaos much thought. In her opinion there was very little about their situation which was not already chaotic. She was looking for the one person whose job it was to restore some semblance of control.
He was not in the main shuttle bay however and more importantly he was not on the bridge. After the ship had found a place to hide, very close to one of the larger asteroid fragments, Lif Culsten had left Lieutenant Trinik in charge of the bridge while he had left to ‘contemplate their situation’. That had been fifteen minutes ago. Wenera who had stayed on the bridge and quickly gathered from Stiller and Trinik that the Jem’Hadar were doing anything but patiently waiting for Eagle to reveal herself. Instead they were meticulously combing through the asteroid, trying to find their prey which they knew was somewhere close. According to Stiller’s estimate they had twenty minutes, maybe less, until one of the two bug-shaped starships would stumble across them.
Wenera found an elevator platform and operated the control. It swiftly lowered her to deck below. The hangar deck was usually quite dark even when the ship’s main power was running. Now, with only the emergency lights activated the deck was a ghostly sight indeed. It rivaled in size the shuttle bay above but it was packed with rows of shuttles which could be easily lifted to the departure deck for quick take-off.
The doctor was undeterred however and slowly made her way passed the small starships until she found one with an open access hatch and a fully illuminated cabin. A medium-sized shuttle by the name of Valkyrie.
She entered and found the person she had been looking for, sitting in the pilot’s seat, his feet propped up on the flight console.
“Permission to come aboard.”
Culsten visibly jumped and whipped around. “Holy Mother of King Nartok!” he shrieked. “Why must you sneak up on me like that?”
She shrugged her shoulders apologetically and gave him a small smile. She said nothing as she sat down next to him in the co-pilot’s chair.
The Krellonian slowly relaxed. He gave her a sideway glance but when he noticed that she was not looking at him he put his feet up on the console and leaned back in his chair again.
For a minute neither of them spoke.
“Doc?”
“Yes?”
“What do I do?”
She slowly turned to look at him. “You cannot stay here that’s for sure. There are people up there on the bridge waiting for you to make a decision. They rely on you. Every single person on this ship does.”
“No pressure, huh?”
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “Listen I’m not a counselor and I don’t think we have time to get Trenira down here to speak to you about how you can be strong for your crew –“
He shook his head. “It’s not just about being strong,” he cut her off and looked right into her eyes. “I just don’t know what to do anymore,” he said pleadingly, hoping against hope that she would be able to tell him.
Wenera considered that for a moment. “We could always leave, couldn’t we? Make a run for it; hope that we can get to a starbase or another ship before they catch us.”
“I’ve done the math,” Culsten replied. “In our condition we have little hope to stay ahead of the Jem’Hadar,” he said, his glance dropping to the floor. “Besides we can’t leave the captain and our people behind on that rock. We owe it to them to stay and try to help.”
The doctor agreed but she was also aware that they could not sacrifice everybody on Eagle to rescue the captain. “What about making a stand?”
The helmsman uttered a short laugh. It was devoid of any amusement however. “We wouldn’t last ten minutes. Damn it, I’m a pilot not a tactician, doc. Why the hell did the captain leave me in charge?” He shouted with anger he hadn’t realized he possessed. He was mad. Mad at having the fate of hundreds of lives thrust onto his shoulders. Mad at the Jem’Hadar for insisting to destroy the Federation and mad at the captain for putting him into an unwinnable position in the first place.
“Yes, go ahead, Lif,” shot Wenera back. “Blame everybody else for what has happened why don’t you? Does it make you feel better?” she asked, now no longer able to contain her own rising resentment. “It damn better because it won’t help with any of our other problems. You want to be mad at the captain? Go ahead, get it out of your system so long as you can feel better about yourself.”
Lif Culsten looked at the black-haired doctor with utter astonishment. He had never seen her upset before, hadn’t even realized she could posses a temper at all.
She suddenly stood. “Stay here and wallow in self-pity if that’s all you can do. I for one will not surrender myself to this fate,” she said and headed for the hatch. “I’ll take command of the ship myself if I have to. If you’re such a good pilot why don’t you take one of these tin cans and try to get out while you still can.”
The young officer suddenly swiveled around in his chair. “Doc?”
Wenera threw him a look over her shoulder and found him smiling. It irritated her immensely. “What?” she barked.
“I think you just gave me an idea.”
“Huh?”
He stood up and approached her. “But I don’t think you are going to like it very much.”
The doctor said nothing. Only now did she realize that she had truly lost her temper and suddenly felt quite ashamed of herself. She hadn’t noticed it before but the stress, the desperation and the fear of sudden death had finally gotten to her.
Culsten walked past her with determined pace. He stopped again when he had cleared the shuttle and realized that Wenera still stood frozen inside. “Come on, doc. We don’t have much time and I will need your help.”
The physician shook of her paralysis and quickly followed.
“You know, you were right,” he said once she had joined him.
“About what?”
“You’re not a counselor. You’d be really bad at it too,” he said with a sly grin.
“Oh, shut up.”
**********************
Chapter XIII – Duty
Eagle’s main shuttle bay was located on deck five and at the very end of the large saucer section. It was a huge facility, easily the size of a football field. It was also usually kept empty in case the ship had to quickly launch or bring aboard a support vessel or any other large sized object which would only fit into the bay. However as Eagle had been in a middle of a cargo operation when it was attacked, the deck was currently filled with containers and crates which had been designated for Epsilon Twelve. There had been no time to secure the loose items when the attack had taken place and now much of their content was littering the bay. It was one of Eagle’s smallest problems at the moment.
Doctor Wenera crossed the extensive hall without giving the chaos much thought. In her opinion there was very little about their situation which was not already chaotic. She was looking for the one person whose job it was to restore some semblance of control.
He was not in the main shuttle bay however and more importantly he was not on the bridge. After the ship had found a place to hide, very close to one of the larger asteroid fragments, Lif Culsten had left Lieutenant Trinik in charge of the bridge while he had left to ‘contemplate their situation’. That had been fifteen minutes ago. Wenera who had stayed on the bridge and quickly gathered from Stiller and Trinik that the Jem’Hadar were doing anything but patiently waiting for Eagle to reveal herself. Instead they were meticulously combing through the asteroid, trying to find their prey which they knew was somewhere close. According to Stiller’s estimate they had twenty minutes, maybe less, until one of the two bug-shaped starships would stumble across them.
Wenera found an elevator platform and operated the control. It swiftly lowered her to deck below. The hangar deck was usually quite dark even when the ship’s main power was running. Now, with only the emergency lights activated the deck was a ghostly sight indeed. It rivaled in size the shuttle bay above but it was packed with rows of shuttles which could be easily lifted to the departure deck for quick take-off.
The doctor was undeterred however and slowly made her way passed the small starships until she found one with an open access hatch and a fully illuminated cabin. A medium-sized shuttle by the name of Valkyrie.
She entered and found the person she had been looking for, sitting in the pilot’s seat, his feet propped up on the flight console.
“Permission to come aboard.”
Culsten visibly jumped and whipped around. “Holy Mother of King Nartok!” he shrieked. “Why must you sneak up on me like that?”
She shrugged her shoulders apologetically and gave him a small smile. She said nothing as she sat down next to him in the co-pilot’s chair.
The Krellonian slowly relaxed. He gave her a sideway glance but when he noticed that she was not looking at him he put his feet up on the console and leaned back in his chair again.
For a minute neither of them spoke.
“Doc?”
“Yes?”
“What do I do?”
She slowly turned to look at him. “You cannot stay here that’s for sure. There are people up there on the bridge waiting for you to make a decision. They rely on you. Every single person on this ship does.”
“No pressure, huh?”
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “Listen I’m not a counselor and I don’t think we have time to get Trenira down here to speak to you about how you can be strong for your crew –“
He shook his head. “It’s not just about being strong,” he cut her off and looked right into her eyes. “I just don’t know what to do anymore,” he said pleadingly, hoping against hope that she would be able to tell him.
Wenera considered that for a moment. “We could always leave, couldn’t we? Make a run for it; hope that we can get to a starbase or another ship before they catch us.”
“I’ve done the math,” Culsten replied. “In our condition we have little hope to stay ahead of the Jem’Hadar,” he said, his glance dropping to the floor. “Besides we can’t leave the captain and our people behind on that rock. We owe it to them to stay and try to help.”
The doctor agreed but she was also aware that they could not sacrifice everybody on Eagle to rescue the captain. “What about making a stand?”
The helmsman uttered a short laugh. It was devoid of any amusement however. “We wouldn’t last ten minutes. Damn it, I’m a pilot not a tactician, doc. Why the hell did the captain leave me in charge?” He shouted with anger he hadn’t realized he possessed. He was mad. Mad at having the fate of hundreds of lives thrust onto his shoulders. Mad at the Jem’Hadar for insisting to destroy the Federation and mad at the captain for putting him into an unwinnable position in the first place.
“Yes, go ahead, Lif,” shot Wenera back. “Blame everybody else for what has happened why don’t you? Does it make you feel better?” she asked, now no longer able to contain her own rising resentment. “It damn better because it won’t help with any of our other problems. You want to be mad at the captain? Go ahead, get it out of your system so long as you can feel better about yourself.”
Lif Culsten looked at the black-haired doctor with utter astonishment. He had never seen her upset before, hadn’t even realized she could posses a temper at all.
She suddenly stood. “Stay here and wallow in self-pity if that’s all you can do. I for one will not surrender myself to this fate,” she said and headed for the hatch. “I’ll take command of the ship myself if I have to. If you’re such a good pilot why don’t you take one of these tin cans and try to get out while you still can.”
The young officer suddenly swiveled around in his chair. “Doc?”
Wenera threw him a look over her shoulder and found him smiling. It irritated her immensely. “What?” she barked.
“I think you just gave me an idea.”
“Huh?”
He stood up and approached her. “But I don’t think you are going to like it very much.”
The doctor said nothing. Only now did she realize that she had truly lost her temper and suddenly felt quite ashamed of herself. She hadn’t noticed it before but the stress, the desperation and the fear of sudden death had finally gotten to her.
Culsten walked past her with determined pace. He stopped again when he had cleared the shuttle and realized that Wenera still stood frozen inside. “Come on, doc. We don’t have much time and I will need your help.”
The physician shook of her paralysis and quickly followed.
“You know, you were right,” he said once she had joined him.
“About what?”
“You’re not a counselor. You’d be really bad at it too,” he said with a sly grin.
“Oh, shut up.”
**********************
Re: Chapter XIII - Duty
To me, this segment does a great job in two ways: It portrays the loneliness of command, but conversely, it portrays the need a CO has for people he can trust for counsel, encouragement, or a kick in the pants.
Culsten is overwhelmed by being the Man In Charge, until Wenera becomes the loud voice he needs to clear out the fuzz and come up with a new plan. We've seen it countless times with Kirk and Spock or McCoy. Wenera serves the important role of prodding Culsten to think, to act. I can almost hear Leonard McCoy's voice saying the things Wenera says.
Who knows? Culsten may yet turn out to be one of those great Starfleet captains that we read and write about. Nicely done!
To me, this segment does a great job in two ways: It portrays the loneliness of command, but conversely, it portrays the need a CO has for people he can trust for counsel, encouragement, or a kick in the pants.
Culsten is overwhelmed by being the Man In Charge, until Wenera becomes the loud voice he needs to clear out the fuzz and come up with a new plan. We've seen it countless times with Kirk and Spock or McCoy. Wenera serves the important role of prodding Culsten to think, to act. I can almost hear Leonard McCoy's voice saying the things Wenera says.
Who knows? Culsten may yet turn out to be one of those great Starfleet captains that we read and write about. Nicely done!
Re: Chapter XIII - Duty
Echoing what Redshirt said above: Culsten had his moment of doubt and indecisiveness, but with Wenera's help, he's coming through.
A good look at the characters of both Lif and Wenera here--nicely done.
PS: I'm working on that DeMara-Anara scene now--it'll be in the next vignette.
Echoing what Redshirt said above: Culsten had his moment of doubt and indecisiveness, but with Wenera's help, he's coming through.
A good look at the characters of both Lif and Wenera here--nicely done.
PS: I'm working on that DeMara-Anara scene now--it'll be in the next vignette.
Re: Chapter XIII - Duty
Edison and Deen would have been surprised if they had been around to see it but Louise Hopkins had not offered the slightest objection when Commander Xylion had approached her and offered his assistance with restoring main power. In fact quite the contrary was true. She had been very happy, almost eager for his help.
Now they worked hand-in-hand within the restricted hatch which allowed access to one of the reactor’s most vital parts. Space was so scarce that it was nearly impossible to avoid for them to brush up against each other. Hopkins didn’t seem to mind however and Xylion, practical as usual, couldn’t deny that their work method was producing results.
“Hyper-spanner, please,” asked Hopkins.
Xylion located the tool and held it up for the chief engineer who was positioned slightly above him.
She took the device and quickly applied it to reinforce a power seal. “This is the last one,” she said.
“We should attempt to start the reactor,” Xylion suggested.
But Hopkins shook her head. “Not yet. We need to reconfigure the influx compensators first. If they’re off-balance we might risk a massive power surge and everything we’ve done would have been in vain.”
“Very well, I suggest you rest for a few minutes while I try to access the compensators.”
She smiled at him. “Is that an order, Commander?”
“A suggestion,” he said, keeping his voice flat as usual. However he chief engineer was certain she could spot the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.
She gave him a nod and began to slide back down. In order to get out of the hatch she needed to pass by Xylion very closely. She slowed slightly when she realized her body was rubbing against his. She flushed. “I’m sorry.”
Xylion gave her as much space as he could. It wasn’t much. “An apology is not required, Lieutenant.”
She managed to get by him and slid out of the small hatch. “I know Vulcans don’t like to be touched,” she said when she had made it all the way out. She sat down next to the hatch so she could still see Xylion.
“That fact is irrelevant, given our current situation.”
She nodded to herself, Xylion was not able to see her from where he was working now. “Can I ask you a question?”
The Vulcan did not cease his efforts when he spoke. “Proceed.”
“Do you think we have any chance at all to get out of here alive?”
There was no immediate reply and Hopkins cursed herself for betraying her fears so openly to Xylion. She wanted to be strong, especially in front of the Vulcan who she felt attracted to. She knew the chances for the cold and emotionless man to ever feel the same way for her were incredibly slim but it had not deterred her from fantasizing.
Xylion froze momentarily and looked at her. “I believe our chances are improving significantly now that we stand close to reestablishing main power,” he finally said.
The young officer was sure she could see a small sparkle in his eyes. “In that case I’d love to buy you a drink in the Nest once we’re out of here,” she said with a boldness that surprised herself. It was a figure of speech of course as there was no monetary exchange on Eagle.
Xylion turned back to focus on his work. “I will consider your request.”
Xylion couldn’t see but Hopkins had a large smile plastered on her face. She knew that the Vulcan had been attempting to be a more involved second officer by being more sociable with the crew but somehow she hoped that there was more to his attitude than improving relationships with his subordinates.
She suddenly decided that the reactor room had been getting warmer and promptly zipped open her mustard-colored uniform shirt.
***************************
Edison and Deen would have been surprised if they had been around to see it but Louise Hopkins had not offered the slightest objection when Commander Xylion had approached her and offered his assistance with restoring main power. In fact quite the contrary was true. She had been very happy, almost eager for his help.
Now they worked hand-in-hand within the restricted hatch which allowed access to one of the reactor’s most vital parts. Space was so scarce that it was nearly impossible to avoid for them to brush up against each other. Hopkins didn’t seem to mind however and Xylion, practical as usual, couldn’t deny that their work method was producing results.
“Hyper-spanner, please,” asked Hopkins.
Xylion located the tool and held it up for the chief engineer who was positioned slightly above him.
She took the device and quickly applied it to reinforce a power seal. “This is the last one,” she said.
“We should attempt to start the reactor,” Xylion suggested.
But Hopkins shook her head. “Not yet. We need to reconfigure the influx compensators first. If they’re off-balance we might risk a massive power surge and everything we’ve done would have been in vain.”
“Very well, I suggest you rest for a few minutes while I try to access the compensators.”
She smiled at him. “Is that an order, Commander?”
“A suggestion,” he said, keeping his voice flat as usual. However he chief engineer was certain she could spot the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.
She gave him a nod and began to slide back down. In order to get out of the hatch she needed to pass by Xylion very closely. She slowed slightly when she realized her body was rubbing against his. She flushed. “I’m sorry.”
Xylion gave her as much space as he could. It wasn’t much. “An apology is not required, Lieutenant.”
She managed to get by him and slid out of the small hatch. “I know Vulcans don’t like to be touched,” she said when she had made it all the way out. She sat down next to the hatch so she could still see Xylion.
“That fact is irrelevant, given our current situation.”
She nodded to herself, Xylion was not able to see her from where he was working now. “Can I ask you a question?”
The Vulcan did not cease his efforts when he spoke. “Proceed.”
“Do you think we have any chance at all to get out of here alive?”
There was no immediate reply and Hopkins cursed herself for betraying her fears so openly to Xylion. She wanted to be strong, especially in front of the Vulcan who she felt attracted to. She knew the chances for the cold and emotionless man to ever feel the same way for her were incredibly slim but it had not deterred her from fantasizing.
Xylion froze momentarily and looked at her. “I believe our chances are improving significantly now that we stand close to reestablishing main power,” he finally said.
The young officer was sure she could see a small sparkle in his eyes. “In that case I’d love to buy you a drink in the Nest once we’re out of here,” she said with a boldness that surprised herself. It was a figure of speech of course as there was no monetary exchange on Eagle.
Xylion turned back to focus on his work. “I will consider your request.”
Xylion couldn’t see but Hopkins had a large smile plastered on her face. She knew that the Vulcan had been attempting to be a more involved second officer by being more sociable with the crew but somehow she hoped that there was more to his attitude than improving relationships with his subordinates.
She suddenly decided that the reactor room had been getting warmer and promptly zipped open her mustard-colored uniform shirt.
***************************
Re: Chapter XIII - Duty
Ah...Hopkins...that ol' Vulcan charm works again!
Seriously, this could be a real kick in the teeth for her if it should turn out that this Xylion is in fact the changeling.
Again, some very good character work in the middle of a tense situation.
Ah...Hopkins...that ol' Vulcan charm works again!
Seriously, this could be a real kick in the teeth for her if it should turn out that this Xylion is in fact the changeling.
Again, some very good character work in the middle of a tense situation.
Re: Chapter XIII - Duty
Damn! Who is the changeling? My money is on Xylion, I mean the fake Xylion . . . oh, I don't know what I mean.
Very good segment! :thumbsup:
Damn! Who is the changeling? My money is on Xylion, I mean the fake Xylion . . . oh, I don't know what I mean.
Very good segment! :thumbsup:
Re: Chapter XIII - Duty
Leva was not happy and of course he blamed D’Karr for this unexpected turn of events. It had taken him and fire team Bravo a good half hour to get to the bottom of the vertical shaft and had swiftly realized that there was no sign of the other two fire teams or for that matter of the other bores. Their assumption that all three shafts would eventually lead to the same place had been wrong and now all teams appeared to be separated from each other.
They had entered another mining tunnel which even though was much wider than the one they had just climbed out of was also nowhere near as smooth or straight. It was most likely an improvised extension to the mine, lacking the solid support beams that had dominated the rest of the underground network. Parts of this tunnel in fact had already fallen in or looked as if they might do so very soon.
The tactical officer had wanted to turn back but First Lieutenant J’ret, the Caitian Marine and his de facto second in command gathered, after referring to his map, that the tunnel would still take them closer towards Epsilon Twelve. Leva reluctantly agreed to press on.
They didn’t get very far however and the Romulan officer knew that there was trouble as soon as J’ret had suddenly stopped and his nostrils began to flare. The cat-like humanoid had not only an increased ability to see in the dark – a skill immensely useful within the gloomy mine – he also had an incredible sense of smell. He looked at Leva and slowly nodded his head. He held up his hands, which to Leva looked more like paws. Three maybe four, he indicated.
The tactical officer acknowledged and gestured to the rest of his men. Atiku Adenji and Jarine Ed’w’a were going to follow him, staying close to his side of the wall while Jamaal Booker would join J’ret at the far wall.
They turned off the flash lights of their rifles and proceeded down the tunnel, relying mostly on feeling the rocks and walls.
It didn’t remain dark for long. A light source ahead was the first sign of the Jem’Hadar guards protecting the t-section. Seconds later they spotted at least three of them, none looking in their direction.
Leva gave the sign for the stealth attack which he had learned from Major Wasco when he had ordered the same form of engagement in the large cavern.
His men acknowledged, setting their assault rifles to silent mode which sacrificed firing rate and power for energy blasts which were harder to spot and barely louder than a whisper.
Leva had already singled out his first target. The Jem’Hadar soldier closest to them conveniently had his back turned towards him. He indicated for Corporal Adneiji’s razor-sharp knife which was swiftly placed into his awaiting palm. The he swung back his rifle and silently approached the unaware solider with the blade at the ready. He was going to show that Klingon – even though he was nowhere near – how to properly execute a stealth attack.
************************************************************************
“Engineering should be just ahead,” said Nora who had taken point for the rest of their journey.
Owens was following closely while Xylion remained slightly behind to cover their rear.
They reached the blast doors which they found slightly raised. Too low to pass through but just enough space to make their presence known. Once they had identified themselves the gate began to rise.
“It’s good to see you, sir,” Edison greeted the captain. He stood at a safe distance his phaser rifle close by in case of sudden trouble.
“Same here, Commander.”
Nora had a large smile on her face and quickly crossed the room to approach the first officer. “Looks like you’ve been having it pretty easy in here,” she joked.
His smile diminished somewhat when he noticed her torn uniform and the many signs of recent injuries. “Are you alright?”
“Flesh wounds,” she shot back. She wanted to embrace him but realized how inappropriate that move would be with the captain and the others watching so she limited herself to gently touching his shoulder. “I missed you,” she whispered.
Deen had turned to the captain. “What happened? Did you manage to get in touch with Eagle?”
The captain sighed. “Yes, but they’re under attack and it seems doubtful that they’ll be able to send reinforcements anytime soon. And to make matters worse –“ Owens stopped himself when he noticed Deen’s eyes suddenly grow larger.
She began to step backwards and away from the captain, her gaze fixed at something behind him.
Owens didn’t understand. He turned to see Xylion entering the room.
“We picked up the Commander on the way here,” he explained. “And he has bad news.”
“Commander!” Deen shouted with sudden irritation as she brought her phaser rifle to bear on the equally irritated Vulcan.
“What’s wrong?” asked Owens, still not clear as what was happening. “Lower your weapon, Dee.”
She shook her head. “Step away from him,” she urged.
Edison had reached for his own rifle and joined Deen in targeting the science officer.
Nora who stood next to Edison was as dumbfounded as the captain. “Gene?”
“Captain,” Edison began, speaking to Owens but keeping his eyes on the Vulcan. “When did you run into Commander Xylion?”
Owens was beginning to lose his patience at the strange behavior of his own people. “About fifteen minutes ago. What is this? Explain yourselves.”
“It would appear,” Deen started, “we have a big problem on our hands. You see there already is –“
“Xylion?” Owens said when he spotted the impossible.
At the other side of the engineering room, Lieutenant Commander Xylion had just appeared. He had frozen instantly and looked upon the scene with just the slightest amount of confusion evident on his face.
“Fascinating,” he said.
“Indeed,” agreed the other Xylion
Owens brought up his rifle and Nora followed suit within a second. Both weapons now pointed at the Vulcan they had not expected to find.
Deen looked over her shoulder and back at Owens. “Now you see what I mean?”
“One of them is a changeling,” Edison pointed out keeping his weapon trained on the Vulcan by Owens.
Nora stood just beside him but her weapon remained on the possible imposter at the other end of the room. “Now what?”
The captain took two steps away from the Xylion who still stood beside him. His mind was racing, trying to figure out a way to allow them to tell which one was real and which one was only pretending to be. He tried to think of every word and gesture his Xylion had made since they had run into each other, any inconsistency that would prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was not who he said he was.
“Logic dictates,” said the Xylion who had come with the captain, “that we do not make hasty decisions.”
“I concur,” the other Vulcan replied.
Owens scowled at them. “I really rather think both of you need to be quiet right about now.”
Both Xylion’s complied.
The situation was the very definition of a stalemate. Edison and Deen had their weapons firmly pointed at the new Xylion they suspected to be the changeling while Owens and Nora thought the same about the one they had just discovered. Nobody was willing to lower their weapons for even a second and both Xylion’s remained perfectly calm considering that it could have taken a single shot to kill one or possibly both of them.
“I say we shoot them both,” Nora said when she suddenly saw a hint of humor in the situation.
Neither Xylion reacted to the statement.
“Maybe it’s not a bad idea,” said Deen and looked at Owens who stood just a few feet away from her.
He shook his head. “None of our weapons are set to stun. And even if they were we don’t know if that setting will work on the changeling.”
Then, suddenly, the power came back. First were the lights which instantly removed any shadows and dark corners in the spacious room, giving everyone a perfectly clear view at the insanity of the situation. However it failed to show any dissimilarities between the two different men who each claimed to be unique.
Moments later the consoles and devices in the engineering room came to life, filling it with the subtle background hum of a technical work place.
“Hopkins,” Deen quickly said. “She restored power.”
But Edison drew another conclusion. “If our Xylion is the shape shifter he would have killed Hopkins when he was alone with her,” he explained to the captain.
Owens wanted to counter that they couldn’t be certain that she was not in fact dead when the chief engineer came through the door behind the Xylion he was targeting. She had a beaming smile on her face for managing to restart the reactor which swiftly disappeared when she found the confusing scene.
“Lou, step away from Xylion now!” Nora insisted with such vehemence that made Hopkins move instinctively.
It took her a few seconds to understand that one of the Xylion’s in the room was their enemy. However she couldn’t believe that it was the one she had worked with so closely over the last half hour. “It can’t be him,” she quickly, pointing at the Xylion closest to her. “He helped me restore power. Why would the changeling want to help us?”
“Obviously to cast suspicions away from him,” Nora shot back, keeping her weapon on target.
Edison turned towards Nora. “He would have killed Hopkins if he’d had the chance and prevented her from reengaging power.”
“Captain?” asked the Bajoran with increasing doubt.
But Owens wasn’t sure either; he kept his weapon up but took two more steps away from the Xylion to his left.
Hopkins stepped closer to Nora. “Laas, he’s not the shapeshifter,” she said but sounded as if she was trying to convince herself.
Nora Laas knew as well as the others that they had reached a standstill and the longer it would go on the larger the chance that the changeling would make a deadly move or even worse, have a battalion of Jem’Hadar soldiers storm the engineering room which was currently an easy target. They had to make a move quickly. She allowed herself a second to take her eyes off Xylion and look at the first officer. “Can you vouch for him?”
“Commander,” Edison began, addressing the Xylion who had arrived with Owens. “A few days ago we held a musical recital on Eagle. Which composition did you compliment me on?”
Nora understood. The shapeshifter could not possibly know the answer to the first officer’s question. She slightly turned in order to be able to see Xylion’s face when he responded.
The silence in the room added to the already razor-sharp tension. Everyone present who was not a Vulcan – or pretended to be one – held their breath.
******************************
Leva was not happy and of course he blamed D’Karr for this unexpected turn of events. It had taken him and fire team Bravo a good half hour to get to the bottom of the vertical shaft and had swiftly realized that there was no sign of the other two fire teams or for that matter of the other bores. Their assumption that all three shafts would eventually lead to the same place had been wrong and now all teams appeared to be separated from each other.
They had entered another mining tunnel which even though was much wider than the one they had just climbed out of was also nowhere near as smooth or straight. It was most likely an improvised extension to the mine, lacking the solid support beams that had dominated the rest of the underground network. Parts of this tunnel in fact had already fallen in or looked as if they might do so very soon.
The tactical officer had wanted to turn back but First Lieutenant J’ret, the Caitian Marine and his de facto second in command gathered, after referring to his map, that the tunnel would still take them closer towards Epsilon Twelve. Leva reluctantly agreed to press on.
They didn’t get very far however and the Romulan officer knew that there was trouble as soon as J’ret had suddenly stopped and his nostrils began to flare. The cat-like humanoid had not only an increased ability to see in the dark – a skill immensely useful within the gloomy mine – he also had an incredible sense of smell. He looked at Leva and slowly nodded his head. He held up his hands, which to Leva looked more like paws. Three maybe four, he indicated.
The tactical officer acknowledged and gestured to the rest of his men. Atiku Adenji and Jarine Ed’w’a were going to follow him, staying close to his side of the wall while Jamaal Booker would join J’ret at the far wall.
They turned off the flash lights of their rifles and proceeded down the tunnel, relying mostly on feeling the rocks and walls.
It didn’t remain dark for long. A light source ahead was the first sign of the Jem’Hadar guards protecting the t-section. Seconds later they spotted at least three of them, none looking in their direction.
Leva gave the sign for the stealth attack which he had learned from Major Wasco when he had ordered the same form of engagement in the large cavern.
His men acknowledged, setting their assault rifles to silent mode which sacrificed firing rate and power for energy blasts which were harder to spot and barely louder than a whisper.
Leva had already singled out his first target. The Jem’Hadar soldier closest to them conveniently had his back turned towards him. He indicated for Corporal Adneiji’s razor-sharp knife which was swiftly placed into his awaiting palm. The he swung back his rifle and silently approached the unaware solider with the blade at the ready. He was going to show that Klingon – even though he was nowhere near – how to properly execute a stealth attack.
************************************************************************
“Engineering should be just ahead,” said Nora who had taken point for the rest of their journey.
Owens was following closely while Xylion remained slightly behind to cover their rear.
They reached the blast doors which they found slightly raised. Too low to pass through but just enough space to make their presence known. Once they had identified themselves the gate began to rise.
“It’s good to see you, sir,” Edison greeted the captain. He stood at a safe distance his phaser rifle close by in case of sudden trouble.
“Same here, Commander.”
Nora had a large smile on her face and quickly crossed the room to approach the first officer. “Looks like you’ve been having it pretty easy in here,” she joked.
His smile diminished somewhat when he noticed her torn uniform and the many signs of recent injuries. “Are you alright?”
“Flesh wounds,” she shot back. She wanted to embrace him but realized how inappropriate that move would be with the captain and the others watching so she limited herself to gently touching his shoulder. “I missed you,” she whispered.
Deen had turned to the captain. “What happened? Did you manage to get in touch with Eagle?”
The captain sighed. “Yes, but they’re under attack and it seems doubtful that they’ll be able to send reinforcements anytime soon. And to make matters worse –“ Owens stopped himself when he noticed Deen’s eyes suddenly grow larger.
She began to step backwards and away from the captain, her gaze fixed at something behind him.
Owens didn’t understand. He turned to see Xylion entering the room.
“We picked up the Commander on the way here,” he explained. “And he has bad news.”
“Commander!” Deen shouted with sudden irritation as she brought her phaser rifle to bear on the equally irritated Vulcan.
“What’s wrong?” asked Owens, still not clear as what was happening. “Lower your weapon, Dee.”
She shook her head. “Step away from him,” she urged.
Edison had reached for his own rifle and joined Deen in targeting the science officer.
Nora who stood next to Edison was as dumbfounded as the captain. “Gene?”
“Captain,” Edison began, speaking to Owens but keeping his eyes on the Vulcan. “When did you run into Commander Xylion?”
Owens was beginning to lose his patience at the strange behavior of his own people. “About fifteen minutes ago. What is this? Explain yourselves.”
“It would appear,” Deen started, “we have a big problem on our hands. You see there already is –“
“Xylion?” Owens said when he spotted the impossible.
At the other side of the engineering room, Lieutenant Commander Xylion had just appeared. He had frozen instantly and looked upon the scene with just the slightest amount of confusion evident on his face.
“Fascinating,” he said.
“Indeed,” agreed the other Xylion
Owens brought up his rifle and Nora followed suit within a second. Both weapons now pointed at the Vulcan they had not expected to find.
Deen looked over her shoulder and back at Owens. “Now you see what I mean?”
“One of them is a changeling,” Edison pointed out keeping his weapon trained on the Vulcan by Owens.
Nora stood just beside him but her weapon remained on the possible imposter at the other end of the room. “Now what?”
The captain took two steps away from the Xylion who still stood beside him. His mind was racing, trying to figure out a way to allow them to tell which one was real and which one was only pretending to be. He tried to think of every word and gesture his Xylion had made since they had run into each other, any inconsistency that would prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was not who he said he was.
“Logic dictates,” said the Xylion who had come with the captain, “that we do not make hasty decisions.”
“I concur,” the other Vulcan replied.
Owens scowled at them. “I really rather think both of you need to be quiet right about now.”
Both Xylion’s complied.
The situation was the very definition of a stalemate. Edison and Deen had their weapons firmly pointed at the new Xylion they suspected to be the changeling while Owens and Nora thought the same about the one they had just discovered. Nobody was willing to lower their weapons for even a second and both Xylion’s remained perfectly calm considering that it could have taken a single shot to kill one or possibly both of them.
“I say we shoot them both,” Nora said when she suddenly saw a hint of humor in the situation.
Neither Xylion reacted to the statement.
“Maybe it’s not a bad idea,” said Deen and looked at Owens who stood just a few feet away from her.
He shook his head. “None of our weapons are set to stun. And even if they were we don’t know if that setting will work on the changeling.”
Then, suddenly, the power came back. First were the lights which instantly removed any shadows and dark corners in the spacious room, giving everyone a perfectly clear view at the insanity of the situation. However it failed to show any dissimilarities between the two different men who each claimed to be unique.
Moments later the consoles and devices in the engineering room came to life, filling it with the subtle background hum of a technical work place.
“Hopkins,” Deen quickly said. “She restored power.”
But Edison drew another conclusion. “If our Xylion is the shape shifter he would have killed Hopkins when he was alone with her,” he explained to the captain.
Owens wanted to counter that they couldn’t be certain that she was not in fact dead when the chief engineer came through the door behind the Xylion he was targeting. She had a beaming smile on her face for managing to restart the reactor which swiftly disappeared when she found the confusing scene.
“Lou, step away from Xylion now!” Nora insisted with such vehemence that made Hopkins move instinctively.
It took her a few seconds to understand that one of the Xylion’s in the room was their enemy. However she couldn’t believe that it was the one she had worked with so closely over the last half hour. “It can’t be him,” she quickly, pointing at the Xylion closest to her. “He helped me restore power. Why would the changeling want to help us?”
“Obviously to cast suspicions away from him,” Nora shot back, keeping her weapon on target.
Edison turned towards Nora. “He would have killed Hopkins if he’d had the chance and prevented her from reengaging power.”
“Captain?” asked the Bajoran with increasing doubt.
But Owens wasn’t sure either; he kept his weapon up but took two more steps away from the Xylion to his left.
Hopkins stepped closer to Nora. “Laas, he’s not the shapeshifter,” she said but sounded as if she was trying to convince herself.
Nora Laas knew as well as the others that they had reached a standstill and the longer it would go on the larger the chance that the changeling would make a deadly move or even worse, have a battalion of Jem’Hadar soldiers storm the engineering room which was currently an easy target. They had to make a move quickly. She allowed herself a second to take her eyes off Xylion and look at the first officer. “Can you vouch for him?”
“Commander,” Edison began, addressing the Xylion who had arrived with Owens. “A few days ago we held a musical recital on Eagle. Which composition did you compliment me on?”
Nora understood. The shapeshifter could not possibly know the answer to the first officer’s question. She slightly turned in order to be able to see Xylion’s face when he responded.
The silence in the room added to the already razor-sharp tension. Everyone present who was not a Vulcan – or pretended to be one – held their breath.
******************************
Re: Chapter XIII - Duty
The question as regards Leva is this: While the stealth attack is a good idea--his choice of doing it himself is very much a questionable one. Was he really the best one to carry it out; or is he doing it just to show up D'Karr? If he slips up here--makes one noise--he could easily get himself or others on his team killed just for the sake of ego.
I liked Edison's solution to the changeling dilemma. Hopkins is either going to be very relieved or crushed.
The question as regards Leva is this: While the stealth attack is a good idea--his choice of doing it himself is very much a questionable one. Was he really the best one to carry it out; or is he doing it just to show up D'Karr? If he slips up here--makes one noise--he could easily get himself or others on his team killed just for the sake of ego.
I liked Edison's solution to the changeling dilemma. Hopkins is either going to be very relieved or crushed.
Re: Chapter XIII - Duty
When Leva was in striking distance of his target his right hand darted out and clamped over the Jem’Hadar’s mouth while pushing his head sharply back towards his chest. The Jem’Hadar struggled vigorously but was not able to stop Leva from brining his knife up against his throat.
That’s when things went wrong.
The soldier at the far end of the t-section turned, spotted the assault and fired in Leva’s direction. The energy pulse hit the Jem’Hadar, killing him instantaneously and causing him to sack to the ground, leaving Leva utterly unprotected.
Blasts from both J’ret and Jarine Ed’w’a – the Efrosian female – dropped the Jem’Hadar before he had a chance to fire again.
But the initial shot had stirred three more Jem’Hadar soldiers who had been shrouded and therefore invisible to Leva and the Marines.
The Romulan didn’t have enough time to bring his rifle up again and fire on the decloaking Jem’Hadar who had decided to engage him. Fortunately Adenji pushed him aside just in time to avoid the Jem’Hadar blast. The African Marine floored the Jem’Hadar with a quick shot from his own rifle.
Everyone started firing.
The Marines found themselves at an immediate disadvantage as they didn’t have time to switch their weapons back to standard mode and their silenced rifles were not an ideal answer to the Jem’Hadar’s rapid firing weapons.
Leva found himself pushed into another tunnel with very little cover. He quickly brought up his own unmodified phaser rile and opened fire at the first target of opportunity. He realized his mistake. Most of the Jem’Hadar turned towards him and unleashed a blanket of deadly energy aimed at his direction.
Adenji who was closest to Leva tried to come to his help but was struck down by rocks coming lose from the ceiling above, triggered by the increasing vibrations created by the heavy weapons fire.
The small cave-in gave the other Marines an opportunity to regroup and engage more efficiently and allowing Leva a short recess. He used it to reach out for the fallen Marine and pulling him deeper into the tunnel and out of harm’s way.
One of the Jem’Hadar noticed the easy target, took careful aim and just as his finger was pressing down on the trigger was struck himself by a phaser discharge. His weapon still fired even while he was pushed backwards and to the ground. The energy blast went high, hitting the tunnel above Leva and Adneiji.
It was all the unstable rock formation needed to come loose completely. A shower of debris engulfed the Romulan and when his eyes darted upwards he saw that he had only seconds remaining before a massive boulder would smash both him and the fallen Marine he was still trying to drag away.
Adneiji’s body was slowing him down considerably and he knew he didn’t have a choice. He let go of Adneiji and jumped backwards only to see the Marine’s body disappear not a moment later under tons of rock and debris.
Leva landed harshly on the ground. The cave-in stopped and he pounded his fist into the ground with rage, as if to punish the mine itself for allowing the man to be killed in such brutal manner.
“Commander?”
The voice was faint but he recognized the slight purr that was so distinctly Caitian. It came from behind the rocks in front of him which had now cut him off from the others completely.
He got back onto his feet and slowly approached the collapsed tunnel. “What’s your status?”
“The Jem’Hadar are down,” J’rett replied, his voice sounding as if it was miles away.
“Do you have Corporal Adenji?”
There was no immediate response to his question. Leva looked down at his feet and found a stream of thick red blood streaming out of the rock and around his boots.
“We have what is left of him,” the lieutenant finally said.
Leva clenched his teeth in anger.
“Sir,” the Marine continued in a manner of detached professionalism. “There appears to be no way to get to you through these rocks. It would take ours to try and clear the way and we can’t use weapons or we risk another cave-in.”
Leva didn’t speak but he did agree with the other man’s assessment. He was also too preoccupied with regret that he had not insisted on returning when he had had the chance.
“According to the map,” J’rett said after a short pause, “you might be able to reach the outpost if you continue ahead. We will attempt to find another way.”
Leva turned away and began to search for his rifle. He could not find it. He had no weapon except for the knife that had belonged to Adenji.
“Sir?” The Caitian asked when he had not been given a response.
“Yes, yes,” he said frustrated still trying to locate a phaser or another energy weapon. There was nothing but rocks however. “Very well, I will proceed. You go ahead and find an alternative route,” he added, deciding that there was no point in letting them worry about the fact that he had no firearms to speak of.
He reached for a low-yield light beacon which was attached to the wall and without another thought began to make his way down the dark tunnel. He couldn’t help but doubt that he stood much of a chance if he would run into more opposition. That he would eventually, he knew was guaranteed.
***************************************************************************
All eyes of the officers engaged in the standoff in Epsilon Twelve’s engineering room where cast on Xylion. The problem of course was the fact that there were two of them.
Eugene Edison had been the first to have the presence of mind to ask a question only one of them should have known the answer to. He together with Louise Hopkins, DeMara Deen and Nora Laas now stared daggers into the Xylion they all suspected to be the imposter with unbearable anticipation. If he didn’t manage to answer or if his reply was incorrect they were all prepared to blast him apart.
When the Vulcan spoke he did so as calmly as ever, never mind his life would depend on those words. “You played a pleasing rendition of the Vulcan Moon Serenade.”
“Son of a bitch,” Nora exhaled as she realized that they had banked on the wrong horse. But before she could whip around to find the now exposed changeling the lights suddenly began to fluctuate. A screaming explosion erupted from the generator room nearby, causing the floor to tremble and every single console to blow out one after another. This caught all by utter surprise and Eagle’s officers momentarily lost their balance.
Owens who had never taken his rifle off the other Xylion was the first to fire. But the now wildly flickering light caused the world around him to blink in and out at a frantic pace. The fake Vulcan was there one moment and gone the next. He hit nothing but empty air.
Then the room went completely dark.
Nora’s eyes needed time to adjust for the unexpected darkness. But she could hear fast approaching footsteps. At least two individuals were on the move. Letting her senses drive her aim she fired into the darkness. She heard the sound of something morphing and she was certain it was very close.
The red glow of the emergency lights finally dispersed of the gloom. There was nothing in front of her but out of the corner of her eye she saw a shiny, silver-metallic sword extending her way. She tried to get out of the way but she already knew she would not be fast enough.
A sudden jolt hit her hard just before she heard the unmistakable sound of a blade cutting through fabric and flesh.
Whatever had impacted with her had been so forceful that she had landed on the floor. She was slightly dazed from the impact when she looked up and spotted Xylion hovering above her. But it was not Xylion. His entire right arm had morphed into something akin a long lance of metal and steel and it was now firmly planted inside Edison’s midsection. The changeling had targeted her but the first officer had leaped towards her pushing her aside and taking the brunt of the attack instead.
Phaser fire shot across the room but missed the changeling by a few centimeters. He swiftly withdrew the blade with a sickening slashing sound and reformed back into a humanoid hand. The fake Vulcan shot Nora the briefest glance, a satisfying smile on his lips, before his whole body erupted like a volcano, shooting upwards and transforming into a semi-liquid state at the same time. Within moments his entire mass had sucked itself through an air vent in the ceiling.
Nora found her rifle on the floor next to her and joined the others in firing towards the vent but hitting nothing that was alive. The changeling was gone.
The Bajoran felt another liquid collecting around her body. It was blood and it wasn’t hers. She dropped her weapon and turned to Edison who still lay next to her, unmoving.
Blood was pouring out of his chest and his eyes were only half-open, threatening to shut close any second. “Gene!” she shouted as she bend over him, her hands racing for the gashing wound on his chest and trying to apply pressure.
But she was fighting a losing battle. There was too much blood and the wound was too large for her efforts to show any effects. “Stay with me, Gene!” she shouted in a tone that sounded more like an order.
Owens saw that his first officer was injured and quickly gestured to Deen. “Get a first aid kit.”
But the Tenarian officer was one step ahead of him. She had already located one and was practically ripping it off the wall.
The captain turned to his chief engineer. “Lieutenant, what just happened?”
But Hopkins eyes were focused on the dying body of Eugene Edison, her mind was still trying to cope with the fact that it had been Xylion who had done this. Or at least the man she had thought was Xylion.
Owens didn’t have time for counseling. He squarely placed himself into her line of sight. “Lieutenant!” he said more forcefully this time.
“Power … power surge,” she said slowly.
“How?” asked the captain.
“I don’t know,” she continued in a tiny voice and looked in the captain’s determined eyes. “Everything seemed to be fine. Xylion must have … I mean the changeling …”
Owens nodded to her and turned to the Vulcan he now knew for sure was real. “Commander, why do you think the changeling would want to create a power surge?”
“It is possible that a massive power surge could unseal the entrance to the underground lab,” explained the science officer with his usually calm demeanor as if nothing out of the ordinary had transpired.
“I agree,” said Owens and stepped up to were Nora and Deen were trying desperately to save Edison’s life. He noticed his first officer was still conscious but he was clearly fighting for every second. He locked eyes with him.
Edison nodded slowly, knowing exactly what Owens had to do. He mouthed a single word. ‘Go.’
The next words out of Owens’ mouth felt like utter torture. He placed a hand on Nora’s shoulder. “We have to get to the auxiliary control room.”
But it was Deen who looked up with complete disbelief. “What about Edison? We can’t just leave him here!”
Nora’s hands were covered in Edison’s blood when she withdrew her hands from his still pouring wound. She looked at him with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
But his eyes were devoid of any accusation. He didn’t manage to speak but he slowly moved his head, keeping eye contact with the Bajoran as if to say that everything would be alright. They both knew it wouldn’t.
Nora reached for her weapon, not caring about smearing it red in the process, and stood up.
“Michael,” Deen insisted as she tried to close Edison’s wound with the meager means at her disposal. “We can’t leave him like this,” she pleaded not realizing that Edison’s eyes had already closed. There was no more pulse, no more heartbeat.
“We have to …” Deen stopped herself when she finally realized the truth. She sagged back onto her heels, looking defeated and despaired.
Hopkins’ turned away from the ghastly scene, quickly wiping away the tears.
Owens spoke quietly. “We need to move out.”
The Tenarian was still on her knees next to Edison’s body. “We can’t just leave him here like that,” she repeated but this time it meant something different all together.
Nora gripped her rifle so hard that her knuckles began to hurt. “He’s dead,” she said, her voice cold as ice now. “Let’s go.”
Exactly ninety seconds later Eagle’s away team had left the engineering room, leaving their first officer behind – his head covered with nothing more than Deen’s uniform jacket – his body spread out on the cold floor, lying in a large puddle of his own blood with nobody to grief for him but the dead and unconscious bodies around him.
-----------------------------------------------
Stay tuned for Chapter XVI - Collision Course
When Leva was in striking distance of his target his right hand darted out and clamped over the Jem’Hadar’s mouth while pushing his head sharply back towards his chest. The Jem’Hadar struggled vigorously but was not able to stop Leva from brining his knife up against his throat.
That’s when things went wrong.
The soldier at the far end of the t-section turned, spotted the assault and fired in Leva’s direction. The energy pulse hit the Jem’Hadar, killing him instantaneously and causing him to sack to the ground, leaving Leva utterly unprotected.
Blasts from both J’ret and Jarine Ed’w’a – the Efrosian female – dropped the Jem’Hadar before he had a chance to fire again.
But the initial shot had stirred three more Jem’Hadar soldiers who had been shrouded and therefore invisible to Leva and the Marines.
The Romulan didn’t have enough time to bring his rifle up again and fire on the decloaking Jem’Hadar who had decided to engage him. Fortunately Adenji pushed him aside just in time to avoid the Jem’Hadar blast. The African Marine floored the Jem’Hadar with a quick shot from his own rifle.
Everyone started firing.
The Marines found themselves at an immediate disadvantage as they didn’t have time to switch their weapons back to standard mode and their silenced rifles were not an ideal answer to the Jem’Hadar’s rapid firing weapons.
Leva found himself pushed into another tunnel with very little cover. He quickly brought up his own unmodified phaser rile and opened fire at the first target of opportunity. He realized his mistake. Most of the Jem’Hadar turned towards him and unleashed a blanket of deadly energy aimed at his direction.
Adenji who was closest to Leva tried to come to his help but was struck down by rocks coming lose from the ceiling above, triggered by the increasing vibrations created by the heavy weapons fire.
The small cave-in gave the other Marines an opportunity to regroup and engage more efficiently and allowing Leva a short recess. He used it to reach out for the fallen Marine and pulling him deeper into the tunnel and out of harm’s way.
One of the Jem’Hadar noticed the easy target, took careful aim and just as his finger was pressing down on the trigger was struck himself by a phaser discharge. His weapon still fired even while he was pushed backwards and to the ground. The energy blast went high, hitting the tunnel above Leva and Adneiji.
It was all the unstable rock formation needed to come loose completely. A shower of debris engulfed the Romulan and when his eyes darted upwards he saw that he had only seconds remaining before a massive boulder would smash both him and the fallen Marine he was still trying to drag away.
Adneiji’s body was slowing him down considerably and he knew he didn’t have a choice. He let go of Adneiji and jumped backwards only to see the Marine’s body disappear not a moment later under tons of rock and debris.
Leva landed harshly on the ground. The cave-in stopped and he pounded his fist into the ground with rage, as if to punish the mine itself for allowing the man to be killed in such brutal manner.
“Commander?”
The voice was faint but he recognized the slight purr that was so distinctly Caitian. It came from behind the rocks in front of him which had now cut him off from the others completely.
He got back onto his feet and slowly approached the collapsed tunnel. “What’s your status?”
“The Jem’Hadar are down,” J’rett replied, his voice sounding as if it was miles away.
“Do you have Corporal Adenji?”
There was no immediate response to his question. Leva looked down at his feet and found a stream of thick red blood streaming out of the rock and around his boots.
“We have what is left of him,” the lieutenant finally said.
Leva clenched his teeth in anger.
“Sir,” the Marine continued in a manner of detached professionalism. “There appears to be no way to get to you through these rocks. It would take ours to try and clear the way and we can’t use weapons or we risk another cave-in.”
Leva didn’t speak but he did agree with the other man’s assessment. He was also too preoccupied with regret that he had not insisted on returning when he had had the chance.
“According to the map,” J’rett said after a short pause, “you might be able to reach the outpost if you continue ahead. We will attempt to find another way.”
Leva turned away and began to search for his rifle. He could not find it. He had no weapon except for the knife that had belonged to Adenji.
“Sir?” The Caitian asked when he had not been given a response.
“Yes, yes,” he said frustrated still trying to locate a phaser or another energy weapon. There was nothing but rocks however. “Very well, I will proceed. You go ahead and find an alternative route,” he added, deciding that there was no point in letting them worry about the fact that he had no firearms to speak of.
He reached for a low-yield light beacon which was attached to the wall and without another thought began to make his way down the dark tunnel. He couldn’t help but doubt that he stood much of a chance if he would run into more opposition. That he would eventually, he knew was guaranteed.
***************************************************************************
All eyes of the officers engaged in the standoff in Epsilon Twelve’s engineering room where cast on Xylion. The problem of course was the fact that there were two of them.
Eugene Edison had been the first to have the presence of mind to ask a question only one of them should have known the answer to. He together with Louise Hopkins, DeMara Deen and Nora Laas now stared daggers into the Xylion they all suspected to be the imposter with unbearable anticipation. If he didn’t manage to answer or if his reply was incorrect they were all prepared to blast him apart.
When the Vulcan spoke he did so as calmly as ever, never mind his life would depend on those words. “You played a pleasing rendition of the Vulcan Moon Serenade.”
“Son of a bitch,” Nora exhaled as she realized that they had banked on the wrong horse. But before she could whip around to find the now exposed changeling the lights suddenly began to fluctuate. A screaming explosion erupted from the generator room nearby, causing the floor to tremble and every single console to blow out one after another. This caught all by utter surprise and Eagle’s officers momentarily lost their balance.
Owens who had never taken his rifle off the other Xylion was the first to fire. But the now wildly flickering light caused the world around him to blink in and out at a frantic pace. The fake Vulcan was there one moment and gone the next. He hit nothing but empty air.
Then the room went completely dark.
Nora’s eyes needed time to adjust for the unexpected darkness. But she could hear fast approaching footsteps. At least two individuals were on the move. Letting her senses drive her aim she fired into the darkness. She heard the sound of something morphing and she was certain it was very close.
The red glow of the emergency lights finally dispersed of the gloom. There was nothing in front of her but out of the corner of her eye she saw a shiny, silver-metallic sword extending her way. She tried to get out of the way but she already knew she would not be fast enough.
A sudden jolt hit her hard just before she heard the unmistakable sound of a blade cutting through fabric and flesh.
Whatever had impacted with her had been so forceful that she had landed on the floor. She was slightly dazed from the impact when she looked up and spotted Xylion hovering above her. But it was not Xylion. His entire right arm had morphed into something akin a long lance of metal and steel and it was now firmly planted inside Edison’s midsection. The changeling had targeted her but the first officer had leaped towards her pushing her aside and taking the brunt of the attack instead.
Phaser fire shot across the room but missed the changeling by a few centimeters. He swiftly withdrew the blade with a sickening slashing sound and reformed back into a humanoid hand. The fake Vulcan shot Nora the briefest glance, a satisfying smile on his lips, before his whole body erupted like a volcano, shooting upwards and transforming into a semi-liquid state at the same time. Within moments his entire mass had sucked itself through an air vent in the ceiling.
Nora found her rifle on the floor next to her and joined the others in firing towards the vent but hitting nothing that was alive. The changeling was gone.
The Bajoran felt another liquid collecting around her body. It was blood and it wasn’t hers. She dropped her weapon and turned to Edison who still lay next to her, unmoving.
Blood was pouring out of his chest and his eyes were only half-open, threatening to shut close any second. “Gene!” she shouted as she bend over him, her hands racing for the gashing wound on his chest and trying to apply pressure.
But she was fighting a losing battle. There was too much blood and the wound was too large for her efforts to show any effects. “Stay with me, Gene!” she shouted in a tone that sounded more like an order.
Owens saw that his first officer was injured and quickly gestured to Deen. “Get a first aid kit.”
But the Tenarian officer was one step ahead of him. She had already located one and was practically ripping it off the wall.
The captain turned to his chief engineer. “Lieutenant, what just happened?”
But Hopkins eyes were focused on the dying body of Eugene Edison, her mind was still trying to cope with the fact that it had been Xylion who had done this. Or at least the man she had thought was Xylion.
Owens didn’t have time for counseling. He squarely placed himself into her line of sight. “Lieutenant!” he said more forcefully this time.
“Power … power surge,” she said slowly.
“How?” asked the captain.
“I don’t know,” she continued in a tiny voice and looked in the captain’s determined eyes. “Everything seemed to be fine. Xylion must have … I mean the changeling …”
Owens nodded to her and turned to the Vulcan he now knew for sure was real. “Commander, why do you think the changeling would want to create a power surge?”
“It is possible that a massive power surge could unseal the entrance to the underground lab,” explained the science officer with his usually calm demeanor as if nothing out of the ordinary had transpired.
“I agree,” said Owens and stepped up to were Nora and Deen were trying desperately to save Edison’s life. He noticed his first officer was still conscious but he was clearly fighting for every second. He locked eyes with him.
Edison nodded slowly, knowing exactly what Owens had to do. He mouthed a single word. ‘Go.’
The next words out of Owens’ mouth felt like utter torture. He placed a hand on Nora’s shoulder. “We have to get to the auxiliary control room.”
But it was Deen who looked up with complete disbelief. “What about Edison? We can’t just leave him here!”
Nora’s hands were covered in Edison’s blood when she withdrew her hands from his still pouring wound. She looked at him with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
But his eyes were devoid of any accusation. He didn’t manage to speak but he slowly moved his head, keeping eye contact with the Bajoran as if to say that everything would be alright. They both knew it wouldn’t.
Nora reached for her weapon, not caring about smearing it red in the process, and stood up.
“Michael,” Deen insisted as she tried to close Edison’s wound with the meager means at her disposal. “We can’t leave him like this,” she pleaded not realizing that Edison’s eyes had already closed. There was no more pulse, no more heartbeat.
“We have to …” Deen stopped herself when she finally realized the truth. She sagged back onto her heels, looking defeated and despaired.
Hopkins’ turned away from the ghastly scene, quickly wiping away the tears.
Owens spoke quietly. “We need to move out.”
The Tenarian was still on her knees next to Edison’s body. “We can’t just leave him here like that,” she repeated but this time it meant something different all together.
Nora gripped her rifle so hard that her knuckles began to hurt. “He’s dead,” she said, her voice cold as ice now. “Let’s go.”
Exactly ninety seconds later Eagle’s away team had left the engineering room, leaving their first officer behind – his head covered with nothing more than Deen’s uniform jacket – his body spread out on the cold floor, lying in a large puddle of his own blood with nobody to grief for him but the dead and unconscious bodies around him.
-----------------------------------------------
Stay tuned for Chapter XVI - Collision Course
Re: Chapter XIII - Duty
Talk about a gut punch! I have to admit, I didn't see that one coming. Owens and the Eagle crew are going to be dealing with this one for a long time to come.
The cost of war is a heavy one as the captain and crew of the Eagle are finding out--and it's only going to get much steeper.
Talk about a gut punch! I have to admit, I didn't see that one coming. Owens and the Eagle crew are going to be dealing with this one for a long time to come.
The cost of war is a heavy one as the captain and crew of the Eagle are finding out--and it's only going to get much steeper.
Re: Chapter XIII - Duty
^ David's assessment is spot-on. Edison made a heroic sacrifice and will surely be missed. Losing a first officer will likely affect the crew's morale for some time.
I still think Leva is grand-standing. If he's not careful, he's going to get more people killed.
Great segment!
^ David's assessment is spot-on. Edison made a heroic sacrifice and will surely be missed. Losing a first officer will likely affect the crew's morale for some time.
I still think Leva is grand-standing. If he's not careful, he's going to get more people killed.
Great segment!
Re: Chapter XIV - Collision Course
Chapter XIV – Collision Course
Culsten had remained right. She hadn’t liked his plan one bit. In fact she thought it was utterly insane and yet she had agreed to it. More out of desperation than anything else. She understood what was at stake. Not only their survival but quite possibly also that of the captain and the other senior officers stranded on Epsilon Twelve.
Wenera sat in the one place she would have never imagined herself. The center seat of the bridge. She was in charge now; everybody was going to look at her for leadership. She was scared senseless.
“Don’t worry,” Lif Culsten had said. “They’ll know what to do. You’d be nothing more than a figurehead.”
Well she didn’t feel like a figurehead when she caught a glimpse of Lance Stiller's doubt filled eyes. And why shouldn’t they have been? A starship captain’s chair during battle was not a doctor’s place. Certainly she knew of a few physicians who had made that leap but she herself had never felt the need to take on the heavy burden of command. She had never complaint about her role as a subordinate, laboring down in sickbay to keep the crew healthy enough to do their job.
“We are about to emerge from the asteroid field,” Stiller reported and to his credit kept his voice strictly professional.
“Any sign of the Jem’Hadar ships?” she asked, surprising herself by the question. The truth was she desperately wanted some affirmation that they were far far away. Hopefully at the other end of the asteroid field. Maybe that way they could avoid having to fight their –
“Both vessels have detected us and are now on an intercept course. They will enter weapons range in three minutes,” Trinik said calmly, crushing any hope the doctor might have had to come out of this one pain free.
“Set a course out of the system at full speed,” Wenera ordered not certain if she had phrased that correctly. It didn’t matter, the message was quite clear. Run as fast as you can.
The helm officer acknowledged and Eagle shot away from the debris field it had been using as a hiding place and crossed into open space where she would make an easy target for the fast approaching enemy.
“Can you put the Jem’Hadar ships on the viewer?”
Stiller nodded. “On screen now.”
The image quickly shifted to show the two pursuing vessels which were forming up to go after the running Starfleet ship.
“At current speed I project that the Jem’Hadar will be in weapons range within two minutes and twenty-four seconds,” the Vulcan tactical officer explained.
Doctor Wenera cranked her head back to try to look at the man hovering behind her. She quickly gave up on the attempt. “Can we go any faster?”
Stiller answered her question. “Not if we want to maintain maximum power on our shields.”
And Wenera knew that they had to. The shields were the only thing that kept Eagle from being blasted to bits. They would need them.
The next two minutes were spent in silence. There were no more orders to give and nothing to do but wait for the inevitable. The doctor ran through the plan Culsten had hatched out a few minutes earlier again and again. It was a terrible gamble that much she knew for certain but she also understood that gambles were all they had left. She was also determined to kill the Krellonian should they survive this insane nightmare that refused to come to an end, Hippocratic Oath be damned.
“The Jem’Hadar ships will be entering weapon’s range in ten seconds.”
Ashley Wenera gripped the armrests of her chair tightly as she knew what was going to happen next. And then she saw it.
Three bright flares had appeared near the asteroid field and like missiles were shooting towards the Jem’Hadar vessels at incredible speed. She knew that Eagle was not going to get away without adding another scratch to her battered hull but if Culsten was right they just might get out of this alive yet.
“The Jem’Hadar are opening fire,” Trinik said with a sense of heightened urgency.
Wenera braced herself.
The modified type-9 shuttle handled like a dream. It had been outfitted with extra phaser arrays and micro-torpedo launchers as well as a tough-as-nails reinforced hull plating which had been painted in bright red and yellow colors in order to appear more menacing. Christened Raptor one, the small combat vessel was also equipped with a sub-light afterburner which allowed it to accelerate to incredible, near light-speeds for short periods of time.
Lif Culsten was pushed back into his seat as his shuttle shot like a bat out of hell towards the unsuspecting Jem’Hadar. Raptor two and three were following in a tight echelon formation.
“Get ready to engage on my mark,” the Krellonian said, knowing that he was linked into the cockpits of the two other vessels.
Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Raptor two moving dangerously close towards him. “Srena, watch out, you’re getting pretty damn close.”
But her shuttle didn’t seem to slow down and at their break neck speed a collision would most certainly mean certain death for both pilots.
He tried to compensate his heading slightly when he suddenly realized what she was up to. Her shuttle began to flip sideward and then in a quick, swift motion began to roll over his ship keeping a distance of less than couple of meters. He could see the blue-skinned Andorian ensign shooting him a large smile through her viewport. She executed the maneuver flawlessly and re-stabilized at his opposite wing.
Culsten sighed annoyingly. “This is hardly the time to show off,” he reprimanded. “Or are you trying to earn your Nova call sign?”
“You picked me because I’m the best pilot on the ship,” she replied over the intercom. “I just thought I remind you of that.”
The third Raptor now shifted position to take up the place Srena’s vessel had vacated. “Just keep her away from me,” replied Ensign Dahomey, “Women pilots are insane. It’s almost as if they’re trying to overcompensate for something.”
Srena laughed. “Why Wes is that jealously in your voice or plain ignorance?”
The disturbing sight of Eagle beginning to take fire from the Jem’Hadar vessel reminded Culsten that they were not here to play around. “Let’s focus now. We have a job to do. Stay on me; we take them out one by one.”
The silver-haired Krellonian adjusted his heading for an ideal attack vector and his wingmen followed suit. He disengaged the afterburner and unleashed a volley of phaser bursts and micro-torpedoes.
The Jem’Hadar had been too focused on their seemingly easy prey that they had not paid much attention to what lingered behind them. There hadn’t been any reason to as they had not detected any other starships in the system. That mistake was going to cost them dearly.
A hail storm of deadly weapons fire slammed onto one of the bug-shaped ships. It took immediate evasive action but by that time it was already too late. Both vessels scrambled off into different directions, trying to reassess the situation before striking back.
Culsten was determined not to give them time to do that. The tiny, speed-boat shaped vessels had the abilities to turn on a dime and all three Raptors made full advantage of that feat once they had passed and unloaded on their primary target. Within moments they had the now damaged Jem’Hadar vessel back in their crosshairs.
Their phasers were still recharging but that didn’t stop them to unleash another dozen or so micro-torpedoes. This time not all of the tiny projectiles found their target but just about enough to nearly completely drain their enemies shields.
Culsten’s sensors warned him that the second Jem’Hadar vessel had gained some distance and turned around to face them.
“Go loose,” he ordered calmly and then watched as their previously tight formation disengaged to create large pockets of space between the Raptors.
The Jem’Hadar fired a few shots, none of which found a solid target to connect with. The final blast however graced Raptor three’s shields, bumping the small fighter craft off course.
“Bastard!” Wes Dahomey shouted.
Culsten shot a worried look towards Dahomey’s craft. He seemed to be able to stabilize his vessel quickly enough. “What’s your status?”
“The pebble-face nearly knocked my shields out,” he reported, his voice now showing signs of increased stress. “I’ll show him not to mess around with me,” he added and then blasted after the Jem’Hadar vessel.
The Krellonian shook his head slightly. He liked Dahomey and he a was skilled pilot but he could also be a hot-head at times, probably the only reason why he had still not made lieutenant. “Let’s focus on the damaged one first.”
Raptor three had quickly caught up with the grey and purple vessel and Dahomey wasted no time to unload his arsenal at close range. Whatever message he had meant to send them had certainly been received.
The distraction caused by the ensign’s unsanctioned attacked had allowed the other Jem’Hadar vessel to swing around and take on Raptor two.
Culsten noticed Srena dodging the incoming fire by pushing her craft to the limit. “Little help here?”
“Three form up on me. Let’s finish this one off,” he said and brought his own ship down on the damaged Jem’Hadar vessel. His sensors confirmed that it had just minimal shields remaining. A few more well placed shots would take her out of commission for good.
He fired his phasers and seconds later was joined by Dahomey’s torpedoes once he had rejoined him by his wing.
The Jem’Hadar ships shields were beginning to fluctuate and both Culsten and Raptor three moved in closer for the kill.
It was only then that the Krellonian noticed that something was amiss. The Jem’Hadar vessel had stopped firing at Srena’s craft even though she was still in range and the attack ship was more than able to deliver a deadly strike.
“About time you got here,” said the Andorian who seemed to be out of trouble for now. She steered her shuttle into a tight turn in order to help her comrades to finish off their target.
“We’ve got him now!” Dahomey cried with battle rage as he bore down closer on the limping ship. ”He’s a goner.”
Even though the others couldn’t see it, Culsten began to slowly shake his head. “Something isn’t right here, I think we should –“
“Woah!” yelled Srena.
It took Culsten less than a second to realize what had caused the Andorian pilot’s astonishment. His sensor warnings were going crazy, showing an immense power build-up in progress and it was originating in front of their very eyes. He instantly knew that only one thing could be the cause for what was happening.
“Break, break, break!” he shouted and followed his own advice.
Not a moment later a blinding white flash filled his viewport and a massive shockwave threw him out of his seat. The Jem’Hadar vessel had detonated its warp core.
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They had only narrowly avoided a half a dozen strong Jem’Hadar patrol by quickly slipping into a cramped maintenance chamber where they remained quietly, hoping that the patrol would pass without noticing their presence and allowing them to continue their urgent journey back to the auxiliary command room.
After what had just transpired nobody had felt like fighting, not even the always primed Nora Laas. Instead they now sat together in silence, not looking at each other but each one taking the short little time that had been afforded to them to process what had happened. It had been the first chance they’ve had to mourn.
The tragic loss of the first officer had also quite suddenly brought about the revelation that neither one of them might ever get off Ligos IV alive. The crew of the intrepid starship Eagle had found itself in difficult situations plenty of times before but for the first time it had become unmistakably clear that survival was not a guarantee and that anyone was subject to Eugene Edison’s fate at any given moment. And even if they survived the nightmare that they were living now, ultimately they would have to face the reality that one of their own, one of their most admired and respectable colleagues – their friend – would no longer be among them.
Nora was as hard-faced as usual when she knew she was going to have to confront an enemy soon. It was nearly impossible to conclude from her body language or the few words she had said since leaving engineering that she had just lost the only man she had ever truly loved.
Hopkins and Deen were visibly shaken by the tragic events but nevertheless understood that their duty at this moment was to follow their captain and to do what was necessary to survive. Tears and despair had to wait for a later and more opportune time.
The Vulcan officer whose very likeness had been the killer of the former first officer had said very little. He had led the team to a maintenance shaft that provided a direct access to D level – where the auxiliary control room was located – but had spoken even fewer words than usual and while he maintained his emotionally distant demeanor, his eyes were without doubt mirroring the regret he felt deep in his well hidden soul.
The patrol finally passed and Owens and his officers left their hiding place to quickly proceed to their destination which was not very far thanks to the shortcut Xylion had found.
Owens was relieved to find that they were ahead of any Jem’Hadar plans to take the room by force. Of course he was well aware that he and his people would not be welcomed with open arms by Epsilon Twelve’s crew who had after all banished him just about an hour earlier. But he had no choice and he challenged the sentries that were guarding the control center when they began to protest his return. They were not bold enough to take on the furious captain however and the away team easily reached the entrance.
Owens immediately noticed what he had feared since the power surge earlier. The blast door leading towards the underground lab now stood unsealed, a few crewmembers trying unsuccessfully to make it impenetrable again.
There were at least two dozen members of the station’s personnel in the room and probably another dozen standing guard outside. He couldn’t find the blue-skinned captain of the base or his first officer but Jana Tren had turned towards him the moment he had stepped in. There was surprise in her eyes when she saw him and he was certain that he could see relief as well.
“Michael, what happened?”
She felt the dread and frustration before anyone could answer. She knew instantly that something bad had happened and the absence of the only missing member of Eagle’s crew made it all too obvious what that was.
Owens was not in the mood to speak about dead friends. Instead he pointed towards the blast door. “We have a big problem.”
She nodded. “I know. How could this happen?”
“There is a changeling on this station,” Nora answered her question sharply. “That’s how that happened.”
“What?” Tren didn’t believe her ears.
“It’s true. And something tells me it’s been here for a while. You’ve been infiltrated, Jana.”
The Betazoid didn’t speak as her mind began to race, trying to analyze the implications of Owens’ accusation.
Nora was much faster to spring into action. She took a step towards the raven-haired woman. “Where’s Monroe?” she nearly spat and rose her phaser rifle slightly, making her intentions plainly obvious.
Tren looked at her with disbelief. “You don’t think the commander is a changeling, do you?”
Nora began to survey the room as she spoke. “Xylion was attacked by Monroe. This … this thing has obviously been passing itself off as her.”
“At this point it is only a theory,” the Vulcan explained. “It is true that the shapeshifter took on Lieutenant Commander Monroe’s form when it attacked me but we cannot be certain that it will continue to use that shape. In fact it would seem unlikely now that we know of its existence.”
“Do you think Monroe is dead?” Tren asked. “I only just saw her a few minutes ago.”
Nora instantly whipped towards the Betazoid.“Where?”
“She said she was going to check on the sentries,” she replied. “She also said that she was attacked by Jem’Hadar forces when she left with Commander Xylion to initiate the photon burst. She was left for dead and managed to return here.”
The Bajoran uttered a sarcastic laugh. “What a great story,” she said and turned towards the exit. “If that slime creature thinks it can trick us that easily it has another thing coming.”
But Owens stopped her before she could walk away which garnered him a vile look from the security chief. It was gone in a flash. “We do not have time to start hunting after that changeling, Lieutenant.”
“What do you suggest?” she shot back, forgetting for a moment who she was speaking to. “That we just let that thing roam around undisturbed? Any of us could be its next target.”
“It seems logical to assume,” the Vulcan began, “that the shape shifter has retreated to its base of operations to rally the Dominion troops and prepare an attack on this location.”
Owens locked eyes with Tren. He could see that she knew that the Vulcan was most likely correct. But he could see something else in her eyes as well. The same determination he had noticed there earlier when she had held a gun to his head, refusing to give in to his demand. No matter how bad the situation she was still not going to consider the only course of action that made sense to him. Owens looked back at Nora. “For now all we can do is to make sure nobody is kept alone. We are safest from the shape shifter if we remain in groups,” he said and then looked at the Betazoid. “We need to fortify this place now. Give everybody a weapon and prepare to hold off the Dominion attack. Where is Captain Zalak?”
“Last time I saw him he was scouting the perimeter,” she replied. “But Michael, most of these people are scientists and researchers not soldiers. They can’t fight off Jem’Hadar.”
Owens flared up with anger. “We’re not soldiers either, Jan. They just have to hold them off or you need to blow this goddamn thing up right now!”
The outburst caused a number of people to look towards the starship captain. Even Deen and Hopkins showed their surprise. Michael Owens was not a man who easily lost his temper.
Jana had shrunk away as well at the unexpected anger but quickly countered with ironclad determination. “I’m not giving up the only chance we have to win this war, Michael. We’ll fight to the last man if we have to.”
The two simply stared at each other without adding another word to their seemingly impassable difference in opinion. None would back down form what they knew was the only right thing to do.
Deen took a small step forward, but stopping short of actually getting in-between the two. “If we cannot fight them off up here is there any chance we could evacuate to the underground lab?” she offered. “Could that not provide us with a better chance of survival?”
Tren turned away from Owens’ defiant gaze only very reluctantly. “It is not impossible but we would be trapped under hundreds of meters of solid rock.”
“So either we get massacred up here or we die of starvation down there,” the purpled-eyed Tenarian said with a small smile. “If I get a choice I’d rather take my chances with the latter.”
“So do I,” chimed in the chief engineer with a small tone of voice.
“I do not think it’s a good idea,” said Tren and turned away from Eagle’s officers.
“It’s a good enough compromise for me,” said Owens and took a step towards the Betazoid. “Jan, we’re running out of time, the Jem’Hadar might get to us any minute. Any plan is better than none at all.”
Tren nodded slowly and turned around. Her eyes revealing her lack of conviction. “Very well. We better get started. That lift can carry no more than five, maybe six at any one time. It needs at least three minutes to make the whole trip.”
Michael Owens turned to his crew. “Let’s get these people out of here.”
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Ashley Wenera now stood at the center of the bridge, her jaw hung open and she was unable to take her eyes off the horrific image on the screen.
“Life signs?” she asked in a tone of voice barely louder than a whisper.
Moments earlier she had witnessed a massive explosion when the Jem’Hadar attack ship had turned into a bright fireball, swallowing up the darkness surrounding it, including the three Starfleet shuttles. Now all that remained was a field of debris.
“I’m detecting various life-signs but they are too weak to identify from this distance,” Stiller reported as his fingers danced over his console.
“We have to return and help them.”
“Jem’Hadar attack ship bearing one-seven-five mark two-one-five, ten-thousand meters and closing.”
The doctor didn’t even have the time to return to the safety of her chair as the ship was gripped by the immense force of the Jem’Hadar’s weapons. Without doubt the enemy had targeted the bridge of the Starfleet vessel as all around Wenera consoles erupted, showering the bridge with hot sparks.
She herself was thrown to the floor as was Lieutenant Stiller who landed just a few feet away from her. Ignoring the pain shooting through her own limps she hastily got back onto her knees to help the young operations officer. She afforded herself a look at the view screen where she spotted the purple colored ship which had caused this damage. It was beginning to turn around to come back for another pass. Still on her knees she threw a glance at the Vulcan at tactical. She didn’t know what order to give but the look in her eyes left no doubt that she hoped – prayed, that he knew what to do.
Trinik understood. “Helm, new course, heading two-seven-one mark one-three one. Firing phasers.”
The doctor didn’t have time to sigh in relief. Instead she looked down at Lance Stiller who was slowly coming back around. He was bleeding from his shoulder where a small duranium fragment had sliced into his flesh.
“I need to get you to sickbay.”
He shook his head as he tried to get up. “I have to stay at my post.”
Wenera was about to protest when the ship was hit yet again. Not as bad as before but she was forced to press herself against the floor in order to keep her balance.
“Aft shields at thirty-five percent,” Trinik reported.
“Doctor,” Stiller continued, “you cannot afford to lose me now.”
Wenera ventured another glance at the viewer which now revealed the enemy racing after them again. It had become an portentously familiar sight. She was torn. Her medical training as well as her humanitarian spirit told her that Lance Stiller needed to be treated now but his replacement was nowhere in sight – probably delayed due to the last attack – and their chances without a trained officer at ops were certainly scantier than they were already.
Ashley Jane Wenera didn’t have time for these kinds of deliberations and she knew it. She looked down into the operations manager’s dark blue eyes. “This is going to hurt.”
He nodded as he clenched his teeth.
Without much preamble her fingers dove into his blood-soaked wound, found the small fragment and pull it out. She flinched noticeably when Stiller shrieked in pain. She threw away the fragment and then quickly retrieved an emergency medkit to expertly clean and bandage the wound. It was a rushed job, she knew, and not nearly enough to properly treat the wound. Against her better judgment she decided that it had to be enough.
She helped him back onto his feet and to his station. “Bridge to sickbay, we need a medic up here on the double,” she said as she assisted Stiller settling back into his seat.
He looked up at her. “Thank you, doctor.”
She flashed him a small, tired smile and turned back towards the seat in the center. She knew sickbay was being overrun at the moment, especially without her being able to provide help and guidance. They were going to do the best they could but it would take a while for a medic to reach the bridge.
As difficult as it was she managed to push those thoughts out of her head. She sat down in the captain’s chair with purpose. The Jem’Hadar ship on the screen had grown significantly closer since the last time she had looked at it.
“Mister Trinik, please direct all our weapons on the target and fire.”
“Firing.”
On the screen phasers and torpedoes were catapulted toward the approaching enemy. The Jem’Hadar took hard evasive actions, avoiding the full brunt of the incoming fire.
“Multiple hits,” the Vulcan said. “They’re shields are at eighty-four percent and holding.”
It was not the response Wenera had hoped for. “Can you calculate our chances of escaping the Jem’Hadar, Lieutenant?”
“I already have.”
“What are they?” she was afraid to ask.
“Our current chances for escape stand at two-hundred ninety-six to one.”
Wenera swallowed. As hard as she tried, she could not think of another order to give.
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It was a relentless, burning pain in his forehead which roused Lif Culsten from unconsciousness. He immediately took that as a good sign. He was not dead. Not yet. When he opened his eyes he realized he was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling above. He tried to move and quickly regretted the attempt. His entire body felt bruised twice over. Since joining Starfleet he had often been told that he as a Krellonian possessed faster reflexes and stronger bones than humans and other races. As far as his bones were concerned he was sure he had managed to disprove that theory a number of times.
“Lif, are you there?”
He turned his head but found that he was alone in the small shuttle. It took his brain a few seconds to comprehend that Srena’s voice had come from the speakers. And then five more until he remembered where he was and what had happened.
He managed to move enough to get a look at the shuttle’s instrument panels. They appeared to be dark and non-operational.
“Please say something.”
His gaze wandered upwards towards the viewport. The shuttle seemed to be surrounded by debris but more prominently than all the dead rubble he could see a red and yellow ship. Raptor two.
He began to crawl toward the pilot’s seat even while his limbs continued to fight in protest. He pulled himself up and into the chair. “Srena are you alright?”
“Thank the six heavens you’re still there!” she shouted out in relief upon hearing his voice. “I’m fine but I think I broke my leg.”
“What about Wes?” he asked as he began to survey the debris for the third shuttle.
There was no reply.
He didn’t need one. He found hull fragments of what had been an assault shuttle. Too many for there being any hope of a survivor. It was the first death which had occurred under his command. He had led them in the attack and ultimately nobody else bore responsibility for Wes Dahomey’s demise but him. It was not a concept that was easy to come to terms with.
“Lif, what’s your status. I think Eagle is in real trouble.”
Culsten suddenly remembered the whole reason for the attack. To give Eagle a shot at escaping the Jem’Hadar. Only one of the two vessels was now destroyed which meant their mission was not yet complete. He quickly surveyed his controls and managed to initiate back-up power which allowed him to get an overview of the damage. “Life support, communications and partial thrusters are operational,” he said as he read the status display. “Structural integrity is critical. No weapons and the engines are fried,” he added and then looked up. “You?”
“Not much better,” she said her voice mirroring her dejection. “I have some shields and my impulse engine seems ok. Everything else is dead over here.”
Culsten activated his thrusters to move the shuttle. Without sensors he would have to rely on his eyes to see what was happening around him. He finally found what he had been looking for. In the far distance a battle was raging. Except that it looked rather one-sided. The final remaining Jem’Hadar was giving Eagle a pounding as she desperately attempted to get away.
“She is not going to be able to take much more,” the Andorian commented.
Culsten nodded. The plan formed in his head almost instantly. It was a good plan with a very decent chance of success. There was just one catch. And it was a big one.
“Srena, did you say your impulse engines are still working?”
“Yes. But I don’t have any weapons.”
The Krellonian pilot didn’t want to ask his next question but he knew he didn’t have a choice. “How about the impulse burst? Does it still work?”
This time she hesitated as the implication began to settle in. “It’s … It’s operational.”
He knew she could have lied about it. Srena could have easily reported that the afterburner was as dead as most of her other systems. There wouldn’t have been a way for him to find out for sure. In a sense he now wished that she had. That way he wouldn’t have to consider his next order. When he looked back at the distant battle he knew there couldn’t be any consideration. They had exactly one last shot at saving Eagle and her entire crew. They had to take it.
“Srena,” he began slowly. “I need you to take out that Jem’Hadar ship. Do you think you can do that?”
There was a moment of silence. “Listen, just because my call sign was Crash doesn’t mean you have to take it so literal,” she replied as if she had just been told a joke.
Culsten swallowed as he tried to find the blue skinned Andorian by looking into the dark cockpit of her shuttle. He could see some movement but she was too far away for him to be able to look into her eyes. Somehow he was thankful for that. He knew he couldn’t look her in the face. “If we had transporters we could switch shuttles and I would do it myself,” he said. “Trust me I wish there was another way but this is the only chance we’ve got left to save Eagle.”
“Lif,” she replied with astonishment, “you’re serious about this, aren’t you?” Her voice had suddenly taken on a tone that made her sound like the incredibly young recent Academy graduate that she was.
The Krellonian lieutenant suddenly thought he understood. For Srena their attack in these fast little fighters had been like a game. The entire war, the close battles they’ve been through, the many Jem’Hadar they had faced and the insanely risky maneuvers they had managed to pull off to survive, they had all been an exciting adventure for the young Andorian. The reality of uncompromising warfare hadn’t quite reached her yet. Not until now that he had asked her to sacrifice her own life for a greater cause. It was a wakeup call for both of them and it had come too late.
Another glance into the distance revealed the Jem’Hadar attack ship unleashing lance after lance of deadly energy towards Eagle. Her shields still flared, a telltale sign that they were not yet defeated. But with every second they hesitated, his ship – his home – was coming closer to the end.
Culsten looked back towards Raptor two with determination burning in his eyes now. “We don’t have a choice.”
“There must be something else we–“
He cut her off harshly. “There isn’t,” he said, surprising himself by the firmness in his voice. “I am giving you a direct order, Ensign. Engage your impulse burst and take out that Jem’Hadar vessel,” he continued. An immense amount of dread overcame him the moment those words had left his lips. He didn’t recognize himself anymore.
For a moment nothing happened and Culsten couldn’t deny a certain relieve that Srena would disregard his order. Even if Eagle would be destroyed he could claim that he had tried everything in his power to save her. The thought began to sicken him.
Then her shuttle slowly turned away and sped up towards the distant battle.
“For what’s worth,” Culsten said as he watched her depart, “you always were the better pilot.”
But Raptor two remained dead quiet. Then the afterburner kicked in with a bright flash and the shuttle was catapulted out of communications range. At her speed she would manage to gap the distance in less than a minute.
Culsten watched with utter horror at what he had done, unable to take his eyes of the small craft. He wasn’t sure anymore how it had happened and why, all he could think about was the fact that he had just ordered a fellow officer – a friend even – to her certain death. He didn’t have the slightest doubt that the next sixty seconds would be the worst of his entire life.
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Stay tuned for Chapter XV - The Stand
Chapter XIV – Collision Course
Culsten had remained right. She hadn’t liked his plan one bit. In fact she thought it was utterly insane and yet she had agreed to it. More out of desperation than anything else. She understood what was at stake. Not only their survival but quite possibly also that of the captain and the other senior officers stranded on Epsilon Twelve.
Wenera sat in the one place she would have never imagined herself. The center seat of the bridge. She was in charge now; everybody was going to look at her for leadership. She was scared senseless.
“Don’t worry,” Lif Culsten had said. “They’ll know what to do. You’d be nothing more than a figurehead.”
Well she didn’t feel like a figurehead when she caught a glimpse of Lance Stiller's doubt filled eyes. And why shouldn’t they have been? A starship captain’s chair during battle was not a doctor’s place. Certainly she knew of a few physicians who had made that leap but she herself had never felt the need to take on the heavy burden of command. She had never complaint about her role as a subordinate, laboring down in sickbay to keep the crew healthy enough to do their job.
“We are about to emerge from the asteroid field,” Stiller reported and to his credit kept his voice strictly professional.
“Any sign of the Jem’Hadar ships?” she asked, surprising herself by the question. The truth was she desperately wanted some affirmation that they were far far away. Hopefully at the other end of the asteroid field. Maybe that way they could avoid having to fight their –
“Both vessels have detected us and are now on an intercept course. They will enter weapons range in three minutes,” Trinik said calmly, crushing any hope the doctor might have had to come out of this one pain free.
“Set a course out of the system at full speed,” Wenera ordered not certain if she had phrased that correctly. It didn’t matter, the message was quite clear. Run as fast as you can.
The helm officer acknowledged and Eagle shot away from the debris field it had been using as a hiding place and crossed into open space where she would make an easy target for the fast approaching enemy.
“Can you put the Jem’Hadar ships on the viewer?”
Stiller nodded. “On screen now.”
The image quickly shifted to show the two pursuing vessels which were forming up to go after the running Starfleet ship.
“At current speed I project that the Jem’Hadar will be in weapons range within two minutes and twenty-four seconds,” the Vulcan tactical officer explained.
Doctor Wenera cranked her head back to try to look at the man hovering behind her. She quickly gave up on the attempt. “Can we go any faster?”
Stiller answered her question. “Not if we want to maintain maximum power on our shields.”
And Wenera knew that they had to. The shields were the only thing that kept Eagle from being blasted to bits. They would need them.
The next two minutes were spent in silence. There were no more orders to give and nothing to do but wait for the inevitable. The doctor ran through the plan Culsten had hatched out a few minutes earlier again and again. It was a terrible gamble that much she knew for certain but she also understood that gambles were all they had left. She was also determined to kill the Krellonian should they survive this insane nightmare that refused to come to an end, Hippocratic Oath be damned.
“The Jem’Hadar ships will be entering weapon’s range in ten seconds.”
Ashley Wenera gripped the armrests of her chair tightly as she knew what was going to happen next. And then she saw it.
Three bright flares had appeared near the asteroid field and like missiles were shooting towards the Jem’Hadar vessels at incredible speed. She knew that Eagle was not going to get away without adding another scratch to her battered hull but if Culsten was right they just might get out of this alive yet.
“The Jem’Hadar are opening fire,” Trinik said with a sense of heightened urgency.
Wenera braced herself.
The modified type-9 shuttle handled like a dream. It had been outfitted with extra phaser arrays and micro-torpedo launchers as well as a tough-as-nails reinforced hull plating which had been painted in bright red and yellow colors in order to appear more menacing. Christened Raptor one, the small combat vessel was also equipped with a sub-light afterburner which allowed it to accelerate to incredible, near light-speeds for short periods of time.
Lif Culsten was pushed back into his seat as his shuttle shot like a bat out of hell towards the unsuspecting Jem’Hadar. Raptor two and three were following in a tight echelon formation.
“Get ready to engage on my mark,” the Krellonian said, knowing that he was linked into the cockpits of the two other vessels.
Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Raptor two moving dangerously close towards him. “Srena, watch out, you’re getting pretty damn close.”
But her shuttle didn’t seem to slow down and at their break neck speed a collision would most certainly mean certain death for both pilots.
He tried to compensate his heading slightly when he suddenly realized what she was up to. Her shuttle began to flip sideward and then in a quick, swift motion began to roll over his ship keeping a distance of less than couple of meters. He could see the blue-skinned Andorian ensign shooting him a large smile through her viewport. She executed the maneuver flawlessly and re-stabilized at his opposite wing.
Culsten sighed annoyingly. “This is hardly the time to show off,” he reprimanded. “Or are you trying to earn your Nova call sign?”
“You picked me because I’m the best pilot on the ship,” she replied over the intercom. “I just thought I remind you of that.”
The third Raptor now shifted position to take up the place Srena’s vessel had vacated. “Just keep her away from me,” replied Ensign Dahomey, “Women pilots are insane. It’s almost as if they’re trying to overcompensate for something.”
Srena laughed. “Why Wes is that jealously in your voice or plain ignorance?”
The disturbing sight of Eagle beginning to take fire from the Jem’Hadar vessel reminded Culsten that they were not here to play around. “Let’s focus now. We have a job to do. Stay on me; we take them out one by one.”
The silver-haired Krellonian adjusted his heading for an ideal attack vector and his wingmen followed suit. He disengaged the afterburner and unleashed a volley of phaser bursts and micro-torpedoes.
The Jem’Hadar had been too focused on their seemingly easy prey that they had not paid much attention to what lingered behind them. There hadn’t been any reason to as they had not detected any other starships in the system. That mistake was going to cost them dearly.
A hail storm of deadly weapons fire slammed onto one of the bug-shaped ships. It took immediate evasive action but by that time it was already too late. Both vessels scrambled off into different directions, trying to reassess the situation before striking back.
Culsten was determined not to give them time to do that. The tiny, speed-boat shaped vessels had the abilities to turn on a dime and all three Raptors made full advantage of that feat once they had passed and unloaded on their primary target. Within moments they had the now damaged Jem’Hadar vessel back in their crosshairs.
Their phasers were still recharging but that didn’t stop them to unleash another dozen or so micro-torpedoes. This time not all of the tiny projectiles found their target but just about enough to nearly completely drain their enemies shields.
Culsten’s sensors warned him that the second Jem’Hadar vessel had gained some distance and turned around to face them.
“Go loose,” he ordered calmly and then watched as their previously tight formation disengaged to create large pockets of space between the Raptors.
The Jem’Hadar fired a few shots, none of which found a solid target to connect with. The final blast however graced Raptor three’s shields, bumping the small fighter craft off course.
“Bastard!” Wes Dahomey shouted.
Culsten shot a worried look towards Dahomey’s craft. He seemed to be able to stabilize his vessel quickly enough. “What’s your status?”
“The pebble-face nearly knocked my shields out,” he reported, his voice now showing signs of increased stress. “I’ll show him not to mess around with me,” he added and then blasted after the Jem’Hadar vessel.
The Krellonian shook his head slightly. He liked Dahomey and he a was skilled pilot but he could also be a hot-head at times, probably the only reason why he had still not made lieutenant. “Let’s focus on the damaged one first.”
Raptor three had quickly caught up with the grey and purple vessel and Dahomey wasted no time to unload his arsenal at close range. Whatever message he had meant to send them had certainly been received.
The distraction caused by the ensign’s unsanctioned attacked had allowed the other Jem’Hadar vessel to swing around and take on Raptor two.
Culsten noticed Srena dodging the incoming fire by pushing her craft to the limit. “Little help here?”
“Three form up on me. Let’s finish this one off,” he said and brought his own ship down on the damaged Jem’Hadar vessel. His sensors confirmed that it had just minimal shields remaining. A few more well placed shots would take her out of commission for good.
He fired his phasers and seconds later was joined by Dahomey’s torpedoes once he had rejoined him by his wing.
The Jem’Hadar ships shields were beginning to fluctuate and both Culsten and Raptor three moved in closer for the kill.
It was only then that the Krellonian noticed that something was amiss. The Jem’Hadar vessel had stopped firing at Srena’s craft even though she was still in range and the attack ship was more than able to deliver a deadly strike.
“About time you got here,” said the Andorian who seemed to be out of trouble for now. She steered her shuttle into a tight turn in order to help her comrades to finish off their target.
“We’ve got him now!” Dahomey cried with battle rage as he bore down closer on the limping ship. ”He’s a goner.”
Even though the others couldn’t see it, Culsten began to slowly shake his head. “Something isn’t right here, I think we should –“
“Woah!” yelled Srena.
It took Culsten less than a second to realize what had caused the Andorian pilot’s astonishment. His sensor warnings were going crazy, showing an immense power build-up in progress and it was originating in front of their very eyes. He instantly knew that only one thing could be the cause for what was happening.
“Break, break, break!” he shouted and followed his own advice.
Not a moment later a blinding white flash filled his viewport and a massive shockwave threw him out of his seat. The Jem’Hadar vessel had detonated its warp core.
****************************************************************************************
They had only narrowly avoided a half a dozen strong Jem’Hadar patrol by quickly slipping into a cramped maintenance chamber where they remained quietly, hoping that the patrol would pass without noticing their presence and allowing them to continue their urgent journey back to the auxiliary command room.
After what had just transpired nobody had felt like fighting, not even the always primed Nora Laas. Instead they now sat together in silence, not looking at each other but each one taking the short little time that had been afforded to them to process what had happened. It had been the first chance they’ve had to mourn.
The tragic loss of the first officer had also quite suddenly brought about the revelation that neither one of them might ever get off Ligos IV alive. The crew of the intrepid starship Eagle had found itself in difficult situations plenty of times before but for the first time it had become unmistakably clear that survival was not a guarantee and that anyone was subject to Eugene Edison’s fate at any given moment. And even if they survived the nightmare that they were living now, ultimately they would have to face the reality that one of their own, one of their most admired and respectable colleagues – their friend – would no longer be among them.
Nora was as hard-faced as usual when she knew she was going to have to confront an enemy soon. It was nearly impossible to conclude from her body language or the few words she had said since leaving engineering that she had just lost the only man she had ever truly loved.
Hopkins and Deen were visibly shaken by the tragic events but nevertheless understood that their duty at this moment was to follow their captain and to do what was necessary to survive. Tears and despair had to wait for a later and more opportune time.
The Vulcan officer whose very likeness had been the killer of the former first officer had said very little. He had led the team to a maintenance shaft that provided a direct access to D level – where the auxiliary control room was located – but had spoken even fewer words than usual and while he maintained his emotionally distant demeanor, his eyes were without doubt mirroring the regret he felt deep in his well hidden soul.
The patrol finally passed and Owens and his officers left their hiding place to quickly proceed to their destination which was not very far thanks to the shortcut Xylion had found.
Owens was relieved to find that they were ahead of any Jem’Hadar plans to take the room by force. Of course he was well aware that he and his people would not be welcomed with open arms by Epsilon Twelve’s crew who had after all banished him just about an hour earlier. But he had no choice and he challenged the sentries that were guarding the control center when they began to protest his return. They were not bold enough to take on the furious captain however and the away team easily reached the entrance.
Owens immediately noticed what he had feared since the power surge earlier. The blast door leading towards the underground lab now stood unsealed, a few crewmembers trying unsuccessfully to make it impenetrable again.
There were at least two dozen members of the station’s personnel in the room and probably another dozen standing guard outside. He couldn’t find the blue-skinned captain of the base or his first officer but Jana Tren had turned towards him the moment he had stepped in. There was surprise in her eyes when she saw him and he was certain that he could see relief as well.
“Michael, what happened?”
She felt the dread and frustration before anyone could answer. She knew instantly that something bad had happened and the absence of the only missing member of Eagle’s crew made it all too obvious what that was.
Owens was not in the mood to speak about dead friends. Instead he pointed towards the blast door. “We have a big problem.”
She nodded. “I know. How could this happen?”
“There is a changeling on this station,” Nora answered her question sharply. “That’s how that happened.”
“What?” Tren didn’t believe her ears.
“It’s true. And something tells me it’s been here for a while. You’ve been infiltrated, Jana.”
The Betazoid didn’t speak as her mind began to race, trying to analyze the implications of Owens’ accusation.
Nora was much faster to spring into action. She took a step towards the raven-haired woman. “Where’s Monroe?” she nearly spat and rose her phaser rifle slightly, making her intentions plainly obvious.
Tren looked at her with disbelief. “You don’t think the commander is a changeling, do you?”
Nora began to survey the room as she spoke. “Xylion was attacked by Monroe. This … this thing has obviously been passing itself off as her.”
“At this point it is only a theory,” the Vulcan explained. “It is true that the shapeshifter took on Lieutenant Commander Monroe’s form when it attacked me but we cannot be certain that it will continue to use that shape. In fact it would seem unlikely now that we know of its existence.”
“Do you think Monroe is dead?” Tren asked. “I only just saw her a few minutes ago.”
Nora instantly whipped towards the Betazoid.“Where?”
“She said she was going to check on the sentries,” she replied. “She also said that she was attacked by Jem’Hadar forces when she left with Commander Xylion to initiate the photon burst. She was left for dead and managed to return here.”
The Bajoran uttered a sarcastic laugh. “What a great story,” she said and turned towards the exit. “If that slime creature thinks it can trick us that easily it has another thing coming.”
But Owens stopped her before she could walk away which garnered him a vile look from the security chief. It was gone in a flash. “We do not have time to start hunting after that changeling, Lieutenant.”
“What do you suggest?” she shot back, forgetting for a moment who she was speaking to. “That we just let that thing roam around undisturbed? Any of us could be its next target.”
“It seems logical to assume,” the Vulcan began, “that the shape shifter has retreated to its base of operations to rally the Dominion troops and prepare an attack on this location.”
Owens locked eyes with Tren. He could see that she knew that the Vulcan was most likely correct. But he could see something else in her eyes as well. The same determination he had noticed there earlier when she had held a gun to his head, refusing to give in to his demand. No matter how bad the situation she was still not going to consider the only course of action that made sense to him. Owens looked back at Nora. “For now all we can do is to make sure nobody is kept alone. We are safest from the shape shifter if we remain in groups,” he said and then looked at the Betazoid. “We need to fortify this place now. Give everybody a weapon and prepare to hold off the Dominion attack. Where is Captain Zalak?”
“Last time I saw him he was scouting the perimeter,” she replied. “But Michael, most of these people are scientists and researchers not soldiers. They can’t fight off Jem’Hadar.”
Owens flared up with anger. “We’re not soldiers either, Jan. They just have to hold them off or you need to blow this goddamn thing up right now!”
The outburst caused a number of people to look towards the starship captain. Even Deen and Hopkins showed their surprise. Michael Owens was not a man who easily lost his temper.
Jana had shrunk away as well at the unexpected anger but quickly countered with ironclad determination. “I’m not giving up the only chance we have to win this war, Michael. We’ll fight to the last man if we have to.”
The two simply stared at each other without adding another word to their seemingly impassable difference in opinion. None would back down form what they knew was the only right thing to do.
Deen took a small step forward, but stopping short of actually getting in-between the two. “If we cannot fight them off up here is there any chance we could evacuate to the underground lab?” she offered. “Could that not provide us with a better chance of survival?”
Tren turned away from Owens’ defiant gaze only very reluctantly. “It is not impossible but we would be trapped under hundreds of meters of solid rock.”
“So either we get massacred up here or we die of starvation down there,” the purpled-eyed Tenarian said with a small smile. “If I get a choice I’d rather take my chances with the latter.”
“So do I,” chimed in the chief engineer with a small tone of voice.
“I do not think it’s a good idea,” said Tren and turned away from Eagle’s officers.
“It’s a good enough compromise for me,” said Owens and took a step towards the Betazoid. “Jan, we’re running out of time, the Jem’Hadar might get to us any minute. Any plan is better than none at all.”
Tren nodded slowly and turned around. Her eyes revealing her lack of conviction. “Very well. We better get started. That lift can carry no more than five, maybe six at any one time. It needs at least three minutes to make the whole trip.”
Michael Owens turned to his crew. “Let’s get these people out of here.”
*************************************************************************
Ashley Wenera now stood at the center of the bridge, her jaw hung open and she was unable to take her eyes off the horrific image on the screen.
“Life signs?” she asked in a tone of voice barely louder than a whisper.
Moments earlier she had witnessed a massive explosion when the Jem’Hadar attack ship had turned into a bright fireball, swallowing up the darkness surrounding it, including the three Starfleet shuttles. Now all that remained was a field of debris.
“I’m detecting various life-signs but they are too weak to identify from this distance,” Stiller reported as his fingers danced over his console.
“We have to return and help them.”
“Jem’Hadar attack ship bearing one-seven-five mark two-one-five, ten-thousand meters and closing.”
The doctor didn’t even have the time to return to the safety of her chair as the ship was gripped by the immense force of the Jem’Hadar’s weapons. Without doubt the enemy had targeted the bridge of the Starfleet vessel as all around Wenera consoles erupted, showering the bridge with hot sparks.
She herself was thrown to the floor as was Lieutenant Stiller who landed just a few feet away from her. Ignoring the pain shooting through her own limps she hastily got back onto her knees to help the young operations officer. She afforded herself a look at the view screen where she spotted the purple colored ship which had caused this damage. It was beginning to turn around to come back for another pass. Still on her knees she threw a glance at the Vulcan at tactical. She didn’t know what order to give but the look in her eyes left no doubt that she hoped – prayed, that he knew what to do.
Trinik understood. “Helm, new course, heading two-seven-one mark one-three one. Firing phasers.”
The doctor didn’t have time to sigh in relief. Instead she looked down at Lance Stiller who was slowly coming back around. He was bleeding from his shoulder where a small duranium fragment had sliced into his flesh.
“I need to get you to sickbay.”
He shook his head as he tried to get up. “I have to stay at my post.”
Wenera was about to protest when the ship was hit yet again. Not as bad as before but she was forced to press herself against the floor in order to keep her balance.
“Aft shields at thirty-five percent,” Trinik reported.
“Doctor,” Stiller continued, “you cannot afford to lose me now.”
Wenera ventured another glance at the viewer which now revealed the enemy racing after them again. It had become an portentously familiar sight. She was torn. Her medical training as well as her humanitarian spirit told her that Lance Stiller needed to be treated now but his replacement was nowhere in sight – probably delayed due to the last attack – and their chances without a trained officer at ops were certainly scantier than they were already.
Ashley Jane Wenera didn’t have time for these kinds of deliberations and she knew it. She looked down into the operations manager’s dark blue eyes. “This is going to hurt.”
He nodded as he clenched his teeth.
Without much preamble her fingers dove into his blood-soaked wound, found the small fragment and pull it out. She flinched noticeably when Stiller shrieked in pain. She threw away the fragment and then quickly retrieved an emergency medkit to expertly clean and bandage the wound. It was a rushed job, she knew, and not nearly enough to properly treat the wound. Against her better judgment she decided that it had to be enough.
She helped him back onto his feet and to his station. “Bridge to sickbay, we need a medic up here on the double,” she said as she assisted Stiller settling back into his seat.
He looked up at her. “Thank you, doctor.”
She flashed him a small, tired smile and turned back towards the seat in the center. She knew sickbay was being overrun at the moment, especially without her being able to provide help and guidance. They were going to do the best they could but it would take a while for a medic to reach the bridge.
As difficult as it was she managed to push those thoughts out of her head. She sat down in the captain’s chair with purpose. The Jem’Hadar ship on the screen had grown significantly closer since the last time she had looked at it.
“Mister Trinik, please direct all our weapons on the target and fire.”
“Firing.”
On the screen phasers and torpedoes were catapulted toward the approaching enemy. The Jem’Hadar took hard evasive actions, avoiding the full brunt of the incoming fire.
“Multiple hits,” the Vulcan said. “They’re shields are at eighty-four percent and holding.”
It was not the response Wenera had hoped for. “Can you calculate our chances of escaping the Jem’Hadar, Lieutenant?”
“I already have.”
“What are they?” she was afraid to ask.
“Our current chances for escape stand at two-hundred ninety-six to one.”
Wenera swallowed. As hard as she tried, she could not think of another order to give.
***********************************************************************************
It was a relentless, burning pain in his forehead which roused Lif Culsten from unconsciousness. He immediately took that as a good sign. He was not dead. Not yet. When he opened his eyes he realized he was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling above. He tried to move and quickly regretted the attempt. His entire body felt bruised twice over. Since joining Starfleet he had often been told that he as a Krellonian possessed faster reflexes and stronger bones than humans and other races. As far as his bones were concerned he was sure he had managed to disprove that theory a number of times.
“Lif, are you there?”
He turned his head but found that he was alone in the small shuttle. It took his brain a few seconds to comprehend that Srena’s voice had come from the speakers. And then five more until he remembered where he was and what had happened.
He managed to move enough to get a look at the shuttle’s instrument panels. They appeared to be dark and non-operational.
“Please say something.”
His gaze wandered upwards towards the viewport. The shuttle seemed to be surrounded by debris but more prominently than all the dead rubble he could see a red and yellow ship. Raptor two.
He began to crawl toward the pilot’s seat even while his limbs continued to fight in protest. He pulled himself up and into the chair. “Srena are you alright?”
“Thank the six heavens you’re still there!” she shouted out in relief upon hearing his voice. “I’m fine but I think I broke my leg.”
“What about Wes?” he asked as he began to survey the debris for the third shuttle.
There was no reply.
He didn’t need one. He found hull fragments of what had been an assault shuttle. Too many for there being any hope of a survivor. It was the first death which had occurred under his command. He had led them in the attack and ultimately nobody else bore responsibility for Wes Dahomey’s demise but him. It was not a concept that was easy to come to terms with.
“Lif, what’s your status. I think Eagle is in real trouble.”
Culsten suddenly remembered the whole reason for the attack. To give Eagle a shot at escaping the Jem’Hadar. Only one of the two vessels was now destroyed which meant their mission was not yet complete. He quickly surveyed his controls and managed to initiate back-up power which allowed him to get an overview of the damage. “Life support, communications and partial thrusters are operational,” he said as he read the status display. “Structural integrity is critical. No weapons and the engines are fried,” he added and then looked up. “You?”
“Not much better,” she said her voice mirroring her dejection. “I have some shields and my impulse engine seems ok. Everything else is dead over here.”
Culsten activated his thrusters to move the shuttle. Without sensors he would have to rely on his eyes to see what was happening around him. He finally found what he had been looking for. In the far distance a battle was raging. Except that it looked rather one-sided. The final remaining Jem’Hadar was giving Eagle a pounding as she desperately attempted to get away.
“She is not going to be able to take much more,” the Andorian commented.
Culsten nodded. The plan formed in his head almost instantly. It was a good plan with a very decent chance of success. There was just one catch. And it was a big one.
“Srena, did you say your impulse engines are still working?”
“Yes. But I don’t have any weapons.”
The Krellonian pilot didn’t want to ask his next question but he knew he didn’t have a choice. “How about the impulse burst? Does it still work?”
This time she hesitated as the implication began to settle in. “It’s … It’s operational.”
He knew she could have lied about it. Srena could have easily reported that the afterburner was as dead as most of her other systems. There wouldn’t have been a way for him to find out for sure. In a sense he now wished that she had. That way he wouldn’t have to consider his next order. When he looked back at the distant battle he knew there couldn’t be any consideration. They had exactly one last shot at saving Eagle and her entire crew. They had to take it.
“Srena,” he began slowly. “I need you to take out that Jem’Hadar ship. Do you think you can do that?”
There was a moment of silence. “Listen, just because my call sign was Crash doesn’t mean you have to take it so literal,” she replied as if she had just been told a joke.
Culsten swallowed as he tried to find the blue skinned Andorian by looking into the dark cockpit of her shuttle. He could see some movement but she was too far away for him to be able to look into her eyes. Somehow he was thankful for that. He knew he couldn’t look her in the face. “If we had transporters we could switch shuttles and I would do it myself,” he said. “Trust me I wish there was another way but this is the only chance we’ve got left to save Eagle.”
“Lif,” she replied with astonishment, “you’re serious about this, aren’t you?” Her voice had suddenly taken on a tone that made her sound like the incredibly young recent Academy graduate that she was.
The Krellonian lieutenant suddenly thought he understood. For Srena their attack in these fast little fighters had been like a game. The entire war, the close battles they’ve been through, the many Jem’Hadar they had faced and the insanely risky maneuvers they had managed to pull off to survive, they had all been an exciting adventure for the young Andorian. The reality of uncompromising warfare hadn’t quite reached her yet. Not until now that he had asked her to sacrifice her own life for a greater cause. It was a wakeup call for both of them and it had come too late.
Another glance into the distance revealed the Jem’Hadar attack ship unleashing lance after lance of deadly energy towards Eagle. Her shields still flared, a telltale sign that they were not yet defeated. But with every second they hesitated, his ship – his home – was coming closer to the end.
Culsten looked back towards Raptor two with determination burning in his eyes now. “We don’t have a choice.”
“There must be something else we–“
He cut her off harshly. “There isn’t,” he said, surprising himself by the firmness in his voice. “I am giving you a direct order, Ensign. Engage your impulse burst and take out that Jem’Hadar vessel,” he continued. An immense amount of dread overcame him the moment those words had left his lips. He didn’t recognize himself anymore.
For a moment nothing happened and Culsten couldn’t deny a certain relieve that Srena would disregard his order. Even if Eagle would be destroyed he could claim that he had tried everything in his power to save her. The thought began to sicken him.
Then her shuttle slowly turned away and sped up towards the distant battle.
“For what’s worth,” Culsten said as he watched her depart, “you always were the better pilot.”
But Raptor two remained dead quiet. Then the afterburner kicked in with a bright flash and the shuttle was catapulted out of communications range. At her speed she would manage to gap the distance in less than a minute.
Culsten watched with utter horror at what he had done, unable to take his eyes of the small craft. He wasn’t sure anymore how it had happened and why, all he could think about was the fact that he had just ordered a fellow officer – a friend even – to her certain death. He didn’t have the slightest doubt that the next sixty seconds would be the worst of his entire life.
---------------------------
Stay tuned for Chapter XV - The Stand
Re: Chapter XIV - Collision Course
The butcher's bill for this is proving high indeed. While Culsten might have known in his head that to be in command means that he might one day have to order someone to certain death and he might have even done so in holo-simulations, he now realizes that it's a different thing entirely to do it for real. The Eagle is getting and its crew are getting bloodied quickly as Owens and the others are finding out that while they might not have started out as soldiers, they are now.
The butcher's bill for this is proving high indeed. While Culsten might have known in his head that to be in command means that he might one day have to order someone to certain death and he might have even done so in holo-simulations, he now realizes that it's a different thing entirely to do it for real. The Eagle is getting and its crew are getting bloodied quickly as Owens and the others are finding out that while they might not have started out as soldiers, they are now.
Re: Chapter XIV - Collision Course
Thanks, David.
Yes, Culsten is getting one reality check after the other here. I wonder if he'll still want his own command should he ever get out of this alive.
I do have to apologize to you and other readers for the poor editing job on the last chapter (I hope it was only the last chapter). I have reposted it and will attempt to strive for better quality in upcoming posts.
Also I didn't have a chance yet to comment on your awesome Lexington segments. Your posting too quickly for me at the moment but I will catch up eventually.
Thanks, David.
Yes, Culsten is getting one reality check after the other here. I wonder if he'll still want his own command should he ever get out of this alive.
I do have to apologize to you and other readers for the poor editing job on the last chapter (I hope it was only the last chapter). I have reposted it and will attempt to strive for better quality in upcoming posts.
Also I didn't have a chance yet to comment on your awesome Lexington segments. Your posting too quickly for me at the moment but I will catch up eventually.
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