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The Star Eagle Adventures III: Cry Havoc

Re: Chapter VII - Disturbance

The trap is sprung. And a nice one it is too--if it pans out right, the Dominion gets the outpost, an assault battalion, an intelligence operative, the senior officers of a starship and possibly the starship itself all in one haul.

Now we see what the wild card does...
 
Re: Chapter VII - Disturbance

Still good, and it's nice Lif being a little unsure of himself while he's in The Big Chair.
 
Chapter VIII - Contact

Chapter VIII - Contact


Life truly worked in strangely mysterious ways, So’Dan Leva thought. Could it truly be nothing more than coincidence that he had been suspended from duty and left on the ship while all senior officers had beamed onto the planet only to suddenly disappear? Wasn’t it peculiar, he wondered, that the one person whose help was now requested was the one person who had been ordered not to leave his quarters until the return of the now missing captain and first officer? There were some who believed that the universe had a way of unfolding exactly how it should, that every cause and consequence happened for a particular reason which was most often hidden from the casual observer. So’Dan Leva did not prescribe to that belief.

“What exactly do you want me to do?” he said to the nearly ten-year younger officer who had asked him to come to the briefing room. He had not been told what the meeting was about, only that Culsten was currently in charge of the ship and that there was a problem with the away team. Leva had quickly figured that things had to be pretty bad. A feeling that was fully confirmed when he met both Culsten and Doctor Wenera in the observation lounge. They had decided to present a unified front – a helmsman and a physician – to speak to the ship’s only remaining officer of the command crew.

Culsten didn’t have an answer. He had imagined the meeting to be much less difficult. After all he counted the half-Romulan as a friend and he had hoped that once he had explained their situation he would simply know the right answers, spring into action and take on some of the responsibilities which at the moment rested solely on his shoulders. But the tactical officer’s attitude had been anything but helpful so far. He was upset and angry, that much was obvious, and Culsten could sympathize to some degree. But their current situation seemed much more critical than whatever problems Leva had at the moment, Culsten was sure of that.

Ashley Wenera decided to field the question after Culsten didn’t speak. “We need your help? Any suggestions you might have.”

The tactical officer seemed to consider that for a moment. “I’m suspended from duty. In fact I shouldn’t even be outside my quarters.”

Wenera shot Culsten a quick look. She wasn’t sure how to reply to this.

“I’m the acting commanding officer,” the young lieutenant said. “Surely I must have the authority to ask for your help in this matter.”

“Did you check regulations?” Leva offered.

Wenera took a deep breath. “You want us to look up regulations while the captain and the away team could be in serious danger? We have to act quickly. Are you going to help us or not?”

The tactical officer gave the doctor an icy stare as if he didn’t appreciate her tone. “I don’t see how I can help you as long as I am suspended from –“

Culsten suddenly thought he understood. “Fine, consider yourself reinstated then.”

Leva looked at the young helmsman. It was not something he had ever imagined he would hear from the much younger officer. But then again the events of the last few days had been nothing but ordinary.

“What else do you want?” Culsten continued, his voice mirroring the defeat he felt. “Command? Take it. Trust me I don’t want it.”

The Romulan officer cracked a smile which only helped to irritate the helmsman more. He was well aware that Culsten had ambitions to have his own command some day. He knew he would still have much to learn before that day would come. Leva on the other hand had never really entertained similar ambitions. “There are some things in life we do not choose, Lif, and this is certainly one of them. You’ve always wanted the responsibility and now you have it. You just have to learn to deal with it. As far as this situation is concerned I suggest you ask Major Wasco. He has a crack unit of Marines under his command which can be rapidly deployed under almost any given situation.”

Neither Culsten nor Wenera had considered that option. It wasn’t entirely surprising really. Starfleet ships rarely carried Marines on board and few officers knew exactly how and when to make use of their special capabilities. Eagle had taken onboard Wasco and his men less then a month ago and thankfully there hadn’t been many opportunities to test their unique skills.

“The Marines?” Wenera asked as if she had never even heard the term before. She was of course aware that they had come on board and that they occupied a large part of deck seventeen. They didn’t mix much with the Starfleet crew, probably because they were too busy going through combat drills and whatever other rituals to prepare them for battle.

Leva nodded and stood up. “Speak to Wasco. I’m sure they have a contingency plan for just this kind of situation,” he said and turned towards the exit. “Good luck.”

Culsten jumped to his feet. “What about you?”

“As far as I’m concerned I’m still suspended until either Commander Edison or the captain say otherwise,” he said without halting.

“I’d rather have you join the rescue team,” Culsten countered. For some reason he couldn’t quite get himself to entirely trust the Marines. Not because he doubted their abilities but because he barely knew anything about them. Asking them to save the captain and the senior officers was almost like asking a foreign empire for help. He wanted somebody who he knew and trusted on the team to save the captain.

Leva shrugged. “Just because you are in command doesn’t mean you always get what you want,” he replied. “Consider that another piece of advice,” he added just before he stepped out of the room.

Wenera glanced at Culsten who looked clearly disappointed by the outcome of the meeting. “I know this could have gone better but at least now there is a plan.”

The helmsman nodded. “We better get started. We already lost enough time.”

“We?” she replied with a wide smile. “Didn’t you hear Leva? You’re the man calling the shots around here now.”

“Please don’t you start as well,” he said as they both left the observation lounge. Right then and there Culsten knew that his first command was well on its way to become an uphill battle until the bitter end.


********
 
Re: Chapter VIII - Contact

One thousand three hundred and sixteen. That was the exact number of rungs they had climbed to get from where they had been to where they were now. Nora had counted every single one of them. The journey had taken them forty-three minutes, at least ten times longer than it would have taken by turbo-lift. Nora hadn’t minded much, in fact she appreciated the work-out, it kept her mind sharp and she knew she would have to keep all her focus under the circumstances. Not all members of their party could say the same however.

Besides her only Xylion showed little signs of fatigue. The others were all in various stages of exhaustion. Hopkins and Deen had both collapsed onto the floor of the maintenance hub they had arrived in and Edison and Owens were breathing hard, half leaning against the bulkhead. Jana Tren, the Betazoid, seemed to fight the urge to do the same but sweat was covering most of her face.

“I suddenly wish I had said no to that extra portion of Bolian jelly desert,” Hopkins complained as she removed her uniform jacket and dropped it onto the floor next to her.

Deen was in agreement. “I don’t think this dinner prepared any of us for this.”

“To think that I actually looked forward to coming here,” the chief engineer mumbled.

Jana Tren looked over the worn out Starfleet officers before turning to Owens. “We cannot afford to sit here. We have to get to the control center.”

Eagle’s captain gave her a look as if she had just lost her mind. The last thing his body wanted to do was to move again. But he was unable to ignore the concern in her eyes. He knew she was right. Their priority had to be to find out what had happened and reestablish communications with his ship. He nodded slowly and took a reaffirming step away from the wall, his body quickly punishing him for that move.

Edison noticed his captain’s intent and followed suit. He turned to Eagle’s officers. “Alright people, let’s get ready to move out. Contrary to popular believe we’re not here for a picnic.”

Hopkins groaned. “Great, now you sound just like my drill instructor at the Academy,” she said as she worked herself back onto her feet.

“If we take this Jeffries tube,” Jana explained and pointed to one of the many intersecting maintenance shafts. “We should come out close to the control center’s main entrance.”

Owens nodded and looked at his security chief.

“I’ve got point,” she said as she made her way towards the shaft. She slowed down somewhat as she passed by Edison. “I happen to like drill instructors,” she said very softly before she stepped head-first into the Jeffries tube.

The others followed.

They didn’t have to go far. When they stepped out of the constricting shaft and set foot onto the much wider corridor again they found that the gas had completely cleared. However a persistent smell still lingered in the air and its sharp taste gave proof that this section had also been flooded. Main power had not been restored, leaving the corridors in a ghostly red glow.

Deen spotted an unconscious crewmember and quickly dropped to his side to check his vital signs. She looked up at Owens. “He is alive.”

The captain spoke to Jana. “What is happening here?”

“The gas is supposed to be part of a station wide defensive system to be activated in case of attack,” she explained. “I do not understand why it has been released on us.”

“Let’s get to that control center and get some answer,” Owens said.

“It’s not very far,” Tren said and began to lead the way.

They walked down mostly empty corridors, coming across a handful of unconscious crewmembers on their way. They didn’t have the time to check on them all.

After a two minute power walk and just before Jana Tren was about to round another corner she was suddenly stopped by a gentle hand on her shoulder. She looked around to see that it belonged to the strawberry-blond Bajoran. Her facial expression was dead serious as the security officer gestured her to be quiet.

Irritated the Betazoid looked at Owens for answers. Like all the others he had stopped as well and kept his eyes on Nora as she sneaked up noiselessly towards the edge of the corridor. With her back flat against the wall she ventured a careful look around the corner.

“What’s going on?” Tren wanted to know after she had approached the captain. “What’s happening?” she whispered.

“Trouble,” Edison replied for Owens.

“Laas has somewhat of a sixth sense when it comes to this. Let’s let her do her job,” Owens explained softly.

Tren nodded slowly and then turned back to look at the Bajoran officer.

Not a moment later she turned back to face the waiting party. She raised one hand and began to communicate her report with gestures. A technique she was an expert at, first learned during guerilla warfare on Bajor and later perfected as a Marine.

Owens wasn’t as skilled at the sign language as his security officer but Edison understood instantly. “Three hostiles, less than two hundred meters,” he translated.

Tren’s eyes widened in horror. “Hostiles? What kind of hostiles?” she blurted out slightly louder than was appropriate for the situation.

Nora shot her an icy stare.

Owens grabbed her and moved her away from the corner, gesturing his other officers around him to follow as well. They retreated just far enough to be out of potential earshot of the enemy but still in visual range with Nora who had kept her look-out position.

“Whoever they are,” Edison began and mirrored Nora’s chastising glance towards Tren. “We cannot engage three armed hostiles without weapons.”

Owens nodded. “Can we get around them?”

But Tren was completely lost in thought now apparently not even listening to the conversation happening around her.

Commander Xylion decided to answer for her. “We have to assume that the enemy has taken the control room. I suggest a withdrawal from this level until we can establish the precise number and position of the enemy.”

“I agree with Xylion,” Edison said.

Owens looked at the Federation agent. “Jana?”

She was still not paying attention.

Goddamnit Jana, this is not the time for deep thinking! Owens’ thought boomed through his mind with such force that the Betazoid had little difficulty to sense its intensity.

Almost as if slapped in the face she came out of her reverie and looked angrily at Owens. “There is an auxiliary control room two levels below. If main control is compromised it is imperative that we get there.”

“What makes you think our enemy has not already occupied that as well,” Edison inquired.

She shook her head. “Unlikely. It was conceived for just such an event. Nobody knows about it but me,” she replied quickly and then faced Michael Owens again. “I cannot stress how important it is that we get there quickly.”

Before the captain could speak he was interrupted by his first officer. “Sir!” he said and directed Owens’ attention back to Nora.

She was giving another signal, waving her hand in front of her eyes as if she couldn’t see. Owens understood instantly this time. She had lost visual contact with the enemy.

Edison said what everyone was already expecting. “It’s an ambush.”

“We need to move now,” Owens urged and turned to Xylion. “Commander, take Ms Tren and the lieutenants and reassemble in the maintenance hub.”

“Wait a minute, what about you?” Tren protested.

“Commander, now!”

Xylion pushed the Betazoid forcefully back down the corridor, giving her no more chances to object to the captain’s decision. Deen and Hopkins followed closely.

“Sir, I must agree with Ms Tren. You should go as well,” Edison said as he watched the foursome’s hasty departure.

Owens allowed himself a small smile. “I didn’t think I would see you and Agent Tren see eye on eye on anything.”

“You know your safety is always my paramount –“

The captain cut him off. “Gene, we don’t have time for this, the odds are already against us,” he said and headed towards Nora, his first officer staying close at his side. “We need to buy our people some time to get out of here.”

Nora spotted Owens and Edison heading her way and instantly cursed their decision. Of all the people in the away team those were the two she least wanted in a fight with the fierce Jem’Hadar soldiers she had spotted only moments earlier only to see them disappear again. Not because they were bad fighters – in fact she knew that they both could handle themselves in battle – but because the captain and the first officer were the two most precious parts of the team. She didn’t like to prioritize lives but she had come to learn that it was a necessity when engaged in uncompromising battle. Michael Owens was her captain and she would give her life to protect him and Eugene Edison, she wanted alive for an entirely different reason.

The sudden whirl in the air in front of her caught her utterly by surprise as she contemplated fighting side by side with the man she loved. She had been distracted just a few seconds and it had been enough. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a figure materializing out of thin air. Something struck out for her and a powerful blow connected with her stomach.

The grey-skinned Jem’Hadar had used the blunt end of his kar'takin – a short polearm – to deliver the first blow. This had been a mistake. While Nora doubled-over in pain she was still aware enough of the next strike. She reached out with lightning fast speed, reached out for the weapon’s upper handle and stopped the razor sharp blade mere inches from dissecting her head. She was currently no match for the Jem’Hadar soldier however, her strength was fading quickly and the blade was inching towards her. She had merely bought herself time.

Enough time as it soon turned out. Edison tackled the Jem’Hadar to the ground causing the warrior to lose his grip on the melee weapon.

“Are you alright?” Owens asked out of breath as he arrived just a few seconds after Edison.

Nora nodded slowly, still visibly in pain. She wanted to respond, say that she was just fine and that he should get the hell out while he still could, but she didn’t get the chance. She pushed Owens aside, lowered her shoulder and bulldozed forward and into the midsection of another, just materializing Jem’Hadar.

The first solider who had been thrown to the floor by Edison wrapped his fingers around his polaron pistol and brought it up to deliver a point-blank shot at Eagle’s first officer. Owens saw this and without delay kicked the weapon out of the soldier’s hand. It went flying through the air and clattered loudly against a wall.

After being successful the first time around Owens decided to try another kick, this time aimed right at the Jem’Hadar’s head. But this one was anticipated. The Jem’Hadar’s hands intercepted Owens’ foot and twisted it. Owens suppressed a gasp of pain but couldn’t avoid losing his balance and smashing face first into the floor.

Edison went straight towards the clear plastic tube sticking out of the Jem’Hadar’s jugular, feeding his brain the vital ketracel-white drug which all of his species required to live. But the move was easily predicted as well and the Jem’Hadar used the opportunity to reach out for Edison’s chest, finding purchase in the uniform and the flesh beneath it he began to squeeze with all his might just where Edison’s heart was located. Eugene’s eyes widened as he felt the sudden pressure build up in his chest. The pain was intolerable and second’s later he felt his blood circulation drop sharply, losing all control in his extremities.

And then the pressure was gone. Instead he heard a gurgling sound followed by silence.

Nora knelt by the Jem’Hadar’s head. Grasped firmly in her hand was a large steak knife which was now buried to the hilt in the former soldier’s throat. Edison slowly turned his head to look at the other Jem’Hadar Nora had engaged moments earlier. He sat collapsed against the wall with a deep bloody cut across his neck.

When he glanced back at Nora he felt the life returning to his arms and legs. He also watched as she slowly removed the blade out of the Jem’Hadar’s gullet. A sudden sickness overcame him when he realized that he had used that exact same knife to cut a large slice of turkey breast earlier.

Owens stumbled back onto his feet. “Is everybody alright?” he asked as he sat up against the wall, still feeling the pain in his ankle.

Nora nodded but kept her eyes on Edison as if to tell him how foolish he had been for trying to help her. She cleaned the blood soaked knife on the Jem’Hadar’s uniform and then helped Edison onto his feet.

“We’re fine. But there was a third one,” Edison said slowly and began to gently massage his chest. It still felt has if the Jem’Hadar had torn right through flesh and bone.

“We can’t stay here and wait for another attack,” Nora stated quickly. “We need to rejoin the others. Can you walk, sir?”

“I think so,” he said and grabbed the hand Nora offered him. A sharp pain shot up his leg as soon as he put weight onto his injured ankle. “Just not very fast.”

Edison stepped next to the captain to steady him as they proceeded down the corridor.




Xylion, Tren, Deen and Hopkins had almost reached the Jeffries tube access they had come out of earlier when Tren suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. Her face turned into a grimace.

Hopkins looked back. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re fighting,” she said slowly. “They’re in pain.”

The others had stopped as well. Deen looked at the Betazoid and then at Xylion. “We should go back and help them.”

But the Vulcan shook his head. “We have our orders.”

“We can’t just let them die!” Deen nearly shouted at him.

Xylion did not react to the sudden emotional outburst. He held Deen’s insisting look for a few moments before he suddenly turned around to look back in the direction from which they had come.

Hopkins stepped up next to young Tenarian. “Dee?”

The golden-locked women looked at the engineer and Hopkins was certain that she could see something in her eyes she had never seen there before. While she understood that Deen was not a physical fighter – in fact she was probably the exact contrary – she had witnessed this once seemingly delicate girl transformed into a woman of courage. Courage she knew she herself lacked. Right now however all that courage seemed gone and replaced by something else. Utter terror.

“We should go,” she said softly not at all proud of the words coming over her lips.

Tren nodded. “She is right,” she said after a moment’s worth of contemplation. “It is absolutely imperative that we get to the auxiliary control room.”

Deen threw her an angry look. She wanted to yell at her. How dare she wanting to abandon him? The one person who had stood by her side when nobody else would. The only person who seemed to have trusted her. And what had she done with that trust? She had let them into a deadly trap with little chance of survival. And now she was more than willing to make Michael Owens their first casualty.

Tren felt the spite coming from Deen and broke eye contact. “Commander Xylion, are you coming?”

But the Vulcan was still turned away from them, spying into the empty distance. “Go ahead I shall follow shortly.”

“What’s wrong?” Hopkins wanted to know.

“We are being followed,” he replied sharply. “Go now!”

The three women rushed for the Jeffries tube access hatch not far down the corridor.

Xylion could feel a presence. He could smell a distinct odor and then moments after it had appeared he sensed a faint breath of air against his skin. He whipped around as he realized that his enemy had just passed by him.

The three women were just in the process of opening the hatch when the Jem’Hadar un-shrouded directly above them. He reached out for Deen’s shoulder and yanked her backwards. He ignored Hopkins and instead grasped for Tren’s throat, lifting her off the ground.

Hopkins charged the Jem’Hadar in an effort to free Tren out of his deadly grip but didn’t even notice the hand that struck out for her head. The blow was forceful enough to send her tumbling to the floor.

Tren dangled in the air as the Jem’Hadar solider held her tightly by her neck. She tried to land a kick against his legs but remained entirely unsuccessful.

The reptile-faced Jem’Hadar suddenly cocked his head with recognition. “Jana Tren, special agent in service of the United Federation of Planets. You will accompany me without resistance.”

“I rather die before I go anywhere with you,” she spat.

“That is not an option.”

The Jem’Hadar sensed a presence behind him but before he could turn he felt a hand on his neck, applying pressure to a very specific spot. He slightly turned his head to see the Vulcan behind him. “I am not susceptible to this form attack. Surrender now and you may not be –“

Xylion shifted all his strength into his firm grip, resulting in a sickening crunch. The Jem’Hadar collapsed to the floor taking Tren with him.

“Every neck can be broken,” Xyilon commented dryly as he looked down at the Jem’Hadar’s corpse.

Tren pushed herself franticly away from the dead Jem’Hadar breaking out into labored breathing.

Xylion in the meantime checked on Hopkins and Deen, finding both of them bruised but without any major injuries.

Moments later Owens, Edison and Nora joined the scene. Owens spotted the dead Jem’Hadar and Tren tending to her throat with a look of panic still writing on her face. He quickly knelt next to her. “Are you ok?”

She nodded slowly but didn’t speak.

Xylion turned to the captain. “I recommend that we leave this level at once.”

Owens helped Tren up from the floor. “Agreed. Are you able to show us the way to the auxiliary control room?”

She nodded, opened the hatch and climbed inside without speaking a single word.

Owens threw a look at Deen. Something in her eyes told him that more had happened here than a Jem’Hadar attack but at the moment he didn’t have time to consider what that could have been.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Deen said to him and then followed Tren into the hatch. The others followed quickly.


*******
 
Re: Chapter VIII - Contact

This is great! Will the marines save the day? Will our intrepid group of officers make it to the auxiliary control room? How many more necks will Xylion break?

And what of the Bolian captain - is he involved somehow?

Waiting with great interest for the next chapter! :)
 
Re: Chapter VIII - Contact

Nice. Lif is getting his baptism by fire; I'm enjoying what you're doing with Leva here. Tense combat with the Jemmies and an intriguing mystery, why do they want Tren?

Looking forward to the next chapter!
 
Re: Chapter VIII - Contact

So’Dan Leva was a big enough man to admit when he had made a mistake, if not to anyone else than at least to himself. After returning to his quarters from his meeting with Culsten and Wenera he had come to the conclusion that he had done nothing but to tend to his own bruised ego. He had still felt humiliated for having been suspended from duty and placed under room arrest that he had not even considered trying to be helpful to anyone, especially not a junior lieutenant who possessed less than half the experience he had.

However he regretted his attitude towards Culsten and Wenera now. They had been placed into an impossible position and he had given them the cold shoulder, abandoning their desperate attempt to save Eagle’s crew from whatever danger they were facing on the planet below. And then there was another issue that factored heavily into reconsidering a more proactive role. Self-preservation. Of course any rescue attempt into an unknown situation carried with it the implication of immense personal danger but if he did nothing, if he decided to stay onboard and be uncooperative, the consequences might far outweigh the possible risks. His career would most certainly end in complete disgrace and that was something he could not allow.

So about twenty minutes after his meeting with Culsten So’Dan Leva entered the main shuttle bay and to his relief discovered that the rescue team had not yet departed the ship.

About a dozen men and women stood lined up on the spacious hangar deck. Each of them at parade rest and differently from the Starfleet crewmembers dressed in green and black combat fatigues. Also differently to their colleges they had no shiny combadges or rank pins attached to their uniforms. Instead all their insignias were dark and inconspicuous. The Marines were armed with large combat knifes, phaser pistols which looked nothing like their Starfleet counterparts and pitch black compression rifle.

Leva spotted Lif Culsten speaking to a tall, dark haired man who stood apart from the lined up Marines. As the half-Romulan came closer he noticed that it was the other man who seemed to be doing most of the talking. The imposing officer possessed a meticulously well-trained body but it wasn’t just his muscles which gave him an aura of authority and confidence. The shorter silver-haired Krellonian seemed to shrink away from the Marine commander.

When the young acting captain spotted Leva he quickly turned to greet him. “Commander, have you decided to join the rescue team?”

Leva nodded. “I figured you could need somebody on your team who has a strong familiarity with who we are looking for.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Culsten said and gestured towards the man beside him who stood straight as a beam. “Have you met Major Caesar Wasco yet?”

“Not personally,” Leva said and stuck out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s mine,” Wasco replied and took the half-Romulan’s hand with a firm grip. “And good to have you on board. We’re about ready to deploy.”

Leva nodded, doing his best to keep his handshake equally firm.

“We were just trying to ascertain which landing craft to utilize for this operation,” Wasco explained and pointed at the USS Nebuchadrezzar, Eagle’s sole runabout, which had been readied for launch behind them.

“I advise against the runabout,” Leva pointed out. “It is too big of a target. Whoever is down there would see us coming from miles away. Shuttles would allow us a much stealthier approach.”

“The Nebuchadrezzar will give my men better opportunities to prepare for enemy engagement and most of our deployment scenarios have been devised with the runabout as a landing craft in mind,” the Major pointed out.

Both men looked at Culsten and when he did not speak, Leva cleared his throat. “It’s your call.”

Culsten looked at Leva with a rush of panic which to his credit he managed to quickly wash off his face. “Yes, right,” he replied hastily. In fact he didn’t have the slightest idea what to decide. As a pilot he knew Leva was right and he trusted his tactical judgment. But on the other hand he was certain that Wasco knew what he was talking about and he was very much aware that it was his men they were talking about.

“Take shuttles. Are two enough?” he said but didn’t dare to look at Wasco. He wasn’t sure how much his decision had been influenced by the fact that he didn’t wish to upset Leva.

Leva did glance at Wasco who gave a curt nod as his only response.

The major turned to one of his officers. “Have the men ready for deployment in two shuttle craft. We move out in ten.”

A brown-furred Caitian Marine lieutenant acknowledged the order and began to divide the soldiers for transport.

Just then Leva spotted a man stepping out of the runabout. He froze as he recognized him.

“Mister D’Karr, you will pilot the second shuttle,” Wasco said to the Klingon warrior who acknowledged without uttering a word.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Leva wanted to know.

Culsten was at a loss for words and Wasco decided to answer for him. “Mister D’Karr has volunteered for this mission. I have fought at the side of Klingons before and trust me when I say that we most definitely want to have him with us.”

“He is also an exceptional pilot,” Culsten said with much less confidence than Wasco.

“This is a mistake,” Leva grunted.

Culsten wondered if Leva was right. After all they had fought each other not a few hours earlier and possibly would have killed each other if security had not intervened. Putting them together now to try and save the captain could spell disaster for the rescue attempt. This hadn’t been an issue before Leva had decided to join but now it suddenly looked like a really bad idea.

“I disagree,” Wasco said, clearly impressed by D’Karr abilities. “Next to my men we couldn’t ask for a better combat-trained soldier.”

Leva eyed the Klingon who had apparently completely ignored his presence and gone straight to a shuttle that had just been raised from the deck below. Leva spun around to head towards the Agincourt instead, the other shuttle which was being prepared at the opposite side of the deck. “Just keep him out of my way.”

Wasco threw Culsten an asking expression.

The young lieutenant tried on a smile but it was not reciprocated by the stoic major and he quickly replaced it with a more serious gesture. “Good luck, Major,” he said before he made a quick beeline for the exit with the knowledge that the rescue mission he was responsible for was in trouble before it had even launched.


********
 
Re: Chapter VIII - Contact

Epsilon Twelve’s auxiliary control room was located two levels below the command deck and the distance was quickly covered by the away team mostly due to Jana Tren’s insistence on keeping up a brisk pace. Of course by now nobody needed extra motivation to get to a place of relative safety. Their run-in with the Jem’Hadar soldiers had confirmed everyone’s worst fears that the base was under a full-out Dominion attack.

The away team members climbed down the empty turbo-shaft in silence each one of them preoccupied with very similar concerns. Owens could tell that something else worried Tren and it wasn’t just the fact that all their lives were now in grave danger.

They carefully exited the maintenance shaft but found no sign of a Jem’Hadar presence. Instead they discovered more unconscious crew members. D level – which housed auxiliary control – was mostly used for storage and much of Eagle’s cargo had been deposited here. A great number of crates still littered the corridors and slowed their progress to the control room.

Jana Tren stopped the team in front of a heavy, reinforced door which looked more like an entrance to a shuttle bay than to a control room. She activated a hidden control panel and entered a number of codes. A final hand scan confirmed her identity and released the door panels.

Jana let out a heavy sigh when the two doors opened but she froze in shock when she was greeted by a rifle being pointed straight at her face.

Owens instinctively reached out for her to drag her out of the way but before he could get to her the rifle was lowered. He recognized the wielder immediately.

“Commander Monroe?”

“It’s you,” the blonde-haired officer exclaimed with obvious relief. “Get in,” she added and then quickly locked the doors behind the away team once they were inside. “I thought you had been gassed like the others.”

“We managed to escape into the Jeffries tubes,” Hopkins offered and found an empty seat, welcoming the chance for repose.

Owens quickly surveyed the room. It was jam-packed with crates and containers most likely transporter here directly from Eagle’s cargo bays. A few consoles were operating on minimal power. The lighting in the room was dimmer than standard but his eyes were thankful for the white light instead of the tiring crimson hue in the corridors. There was only one other exit, an equally large door at the opposite side of the rather spacious control room.

“Do you have communications?” was the captain’s first question.

Monroe shook her head. “No. Whoever turned off the juice also terminated the main com-grid. We have partial sensors though.”

Owens gestured to his science officer and the Vulcan immediately proceeded to the main console bank to investigate.

“How did you get access to this room?” Tren asked, her tone sounding distinctly accusatory.

“I’m the executive officer of this station, ma’am,” she replied almost bitterly.

But the Betazoid wasn’t satisfied with this explanation and shook her head. “The auxiliary control room is off-limits to all station personnel, including Captain Zalak. I’m the only one who even knows about its exact location.”

“With all due respect,” Monroe said and slightly shifted the weight of her phaser rifle she still carried. “We’ve been here for over four weeks. You only just arrived. You did not expect us to familiarize ourselves with our own station?”

Jana Tren gave the weapon a careful look but Commander Shelby Monroe didn’t seem perturbed and maintained her calm demeanor.

Michael Owens stepped up between the two women. “Let’s try and focus on what’s important,” he declared. “We need to find out what is happening and I need some answers.”

Tren looked at him but didn’t speak.

“For one I need to know why the Jem’Hadar are attacking an outpost with seemingly no strategic value whatsoever. What do they want here?” Owens asked firmly. He had enough of the secrecy around this mission and he was not going to settle for anything but full disclosure this time around.

The Betazoid could sense this. “Perhaps you’re right,” she said after a few moments of silent deliberation.

“I disagree,” Monroe protest and stepped around Owens. “He does not have sufficient clearance. You know that this is strictly need-to-know.”

“I do not care about clearance,” Eagle’s captain countered. “We are under attack and I demand to know why. In fact I believe I have every right to know. My people’s lives are on the line here.”

“Captain Zalak would not allow this,” the commander said. She held her ground but her voice had lost some of her earlier conviction.

“In case you hadn’t noticed,” chimed in Edison. “Captain Zalak is not here which makes Captain Owens the senior officer.”

But Monroe simply shook her head. “In Captain Zalak absence I am the commanding officer of Epsilon Twelve.”

Deen took a step towards the defiant first officer. “You can’t be serious. This is hardly the time to squabble over jurisdiction. Not while we’re about to be overrun by Jem’Hadar.”

“This entire debate is pointless in any regard,” Tren said. “Even if you are in command of Epsilon Twelve, the Federation Council has given me full authority over this project. Therefore if I choose to show Captain Owens then it is within my right to do so. And I will do just that,” she added and considered the subject closed. She headed for the second pair of doors and gestured Owens to follow her.

Monroe looked as if she wanted to protest again but considering her minority opinion she quickly changed her mind.

“I never got to thank you for taking my weapon away,” Nora told her quietly once Owens and Tren were out of earshot. “That really worked out well for us,” she added with a spiteful smile.

Shelby Monroe simply gave her a cold stare before stepping away and taking up position near the main entrance.

“Alright listen,” Tren said to Owens once she had stepped in front of the heavy door. “I’ll show you – and only you – what this base is really all about. I don’t think I have to point out that everything you’ll see is strictly classified. You cannot discuss it with anyone.”

Owens nodded and turned to his first officer who stood nearby. “Commander, stay here and see what you can find out. We should be back shortly.”

Tren in the meantime entered yet another code into a hidden panel which prompted the large blast door to rise. Owens held his breath, expecting to see something truly astonishing to be revealed. Instead he only found another short corridor leading to another much more common looking door. Not a moment after they had stepped into the corridor the blast door behind them began to lower itself again. Owens whipped around upon hearing the loud thud.

“Please tell me that was supposed to happen?”

Tren simply smiled and led him through the next door which led into a turbo-lift. “Epsilon Twelve consists out of seven levels,” she explained.

Owens nodded. “I know.”

“Yes, but what you don’t know is that those levels only make up the upper part of the base,” she said and turned to blank computer screen inside the lift. “Computer, authenticate Jana Tren, zero-five-seven-nine-seven-eight-uniform-charlie,” she asked and placed the palm of her hand on the flat screen.

The screen came to life. “Authenticating,” the female computer voice replied. “Verifying. Hand print verified, voice print verified, DNA verified. Verification complete. Welcome Agent Tren.”

The lift began to move downwards.

“What is this?” asked Owens. “Starfleet Intelligence headquarters?”

But the Betazoid did not reply.

The captain noted that whatever power source was feeding this lift had not been affected by the Jem’Hadar attack. He wondered with some displeasure why it hadn’t been possible to activate the other turbo-lifts in this manner.

To Owens’ frustration the elevator didn’t move very fast. There was also not a lot of space in the car. The silence between them quickly became awkward and yet neither one could think of anything to say. Owens even willed himself not to think, knowing that Tren might pick up on it.

When the lift finally came to a sudden halt and the door panels swished open Owens felt strangely relieved. Tren moved out quickly and he followed closely.

They stepped into a massive and surprisingly brightly lit chamber. It was easily large enough to hold a small starship and its white floors, walls and tall ceiling gave the chamber a very sterile and clinical feel. In fact the hall was populated by a number of lab-coat wearing men and women. Most of them were not Starfleet, Owens realized, but they weren’t exactly civilians either he assumed. At least not any more civilian than Jana Tren was.

A few meters in front of them the chamber was divided by a transparent partition and behind it, at the very center stood the device for which the entire room seemed to have been created for. To Owens it looked somewhat like a horizontally aligned warp core. It had a large oval center and two wide conduits branching out from the middle. The entire device was pitch black except for a semi-transparent screen running along the sides of the conduits. They were pulsating in a bright red, feeding energy, or something, into the central chamber. The device hung in mid-air, suspended at least five meters from the ground and ceiling by large support beams. Catwalks allowed easy access to the device and a few scientists were working on consoles and access points all around it.

Owens stepped up to the partition as he studied the unknown machine in detail.

A few of the scientists had turned toward the newcomers with surprise. One in particular, a gray-haired Grazerite seemed to show great irritation at his presence and was now quickly approaching Tren and Owens.

“You can’t bring him down here. What were you thinking?” he called out before he had even reached them.

“Doctor, please,” Tren tried to calm him but he simply ignored her and stepped up to Owens. “Who are you? You can’t be down here. This is highly classified. Don’t you realize that by coming down here you are in direct violation of Federation protocol?”

“I’m Captain Michael Owens from the Eagle and in case you weren’t aware we are dealing with a major situation up there which I’m sure justifies certain adjustments to protocol.”

The Grazerite showed only more irritation by Owens’ reply. He turned to Tren. “What is this man talking about?”

“It appears we are under attack by Jem’Hadar forces,” Tren said, trying to avoid eye contact with the scientist.

“Attack?” he repeated slowly as if he didn’t want to believe. “But … but your men? They are equipped to handle this situation, aren’t they?”

She sadly shook her head. “My men are not here.”

The Grazerite was clearly taken aback by that revelation.

“Now could somebody please enlighten me why the Jem’Hadar are interested in attacking this base?” Owens asked and looked back at the imposing device. “What is this thing?”

“That,” the scientist began and slowly stepped next to the captain. “Is a weapon that will – “

“Win the war for us,” Tren cut him off, finishing his sentence for him.

The two exchanged a quick look which Owens didn’t catch.

“How?” he asked.

“The details are not important,” the Betazoid said.

Owens shot her a sideway glance, letting her now that he didn’t appreciate the secrecy anymore.

“Michael, please, I’m already violating half a dozen protocols by bringing you down here. It is sufficient to say that Project Archangel is currently representing our best hope to end this war quickly and efficiently and that is what we all want, is it not?”

Eagle’s captain looked back at what she had called Archangel. The name didn’t exactly instill him with a sense of equanimity but then again he was looking at what had to be a weapon of immense destructive capabilities and poise was probably not what it had been designed to inspire. Owens had never liked weapons, big or small. He was a firm believer that most situations that required a weapon could be solved without one. However he also understood that their best chance to end the war with the Dominion was by using pure force.

“This is Doctor Santesh-Yardo,” Tren introduced the scientist, trying to distract Owens from further speculating about the nature of Archangel. “He is one of our most brilliant researchers in his field.”

Owens gave him a curt nod.

Santesh seemed less interested in pleasantries however. “I don’t understand. If we are under attack why are you down here? What are you going to do about this? We cannot let the Jem’Hadar get their hands on this.”

“We need to get in touch with Eagle,” Owens said. “If this weapon is really as important as you claim we have to do whatever it takes to defend it from the Jem’Hadar.”

His sentiment was quickly reciprocated by Tren and Santesh-Yardo.

“This level seems to be unaffected by the power loss,” Owens continued. “Do you have access to a communications station down here?”

Archangel operates on a semi-independent power supply but we are hundreds of meters underground and surrounded by trithium ore. It would be impossible to get a signal out into orbit from here,” the scientist explained.

“There is an emergency transmitter beacon on E level,” said Tren. “It should be powerful enough to cut through any interference. We should be able to reach your ship with it.” If it is still in orbit.

Owens caught her thought and it hardly came as a surprise to him. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t entertained that possibility himself. But right now he couldn’t allow himself to believe that Eagle might have already become a victim of the Jem’Hadar attack. At least not yet.

“Doctor, while we will try to get reinforcements I will implement code red for Project Archangel,” she said to Tren and then looked at Owens. “There are two access points to this level. One in the command center, which by now we have to assume has been taken by the Jem’Hadar, and the one we took. With code red in place all external access will be shut down. Only Doctor Santesh will be able to open the blast doors from down here.”

Owens nodded slowly. “How strong are those doors?”

“It would take more than a tri-cobalt device to blast through them,” she answered.

Santesh-Yardo practically dragged them back towards the turbo-lift. “Fine, fine, you can discuss the details once you are out of here. I’d feel much safer once you’re back upstairs.”

With that the captain and the Federation agent slipped back into the lift which quickly shot upwards again.

“He’ll feel safer?” Owens said to Tren.

“The doctor is very protective of this project,” she replied. “And he should be. I did not exaggerate earlier. This weapon will win the war for us.”

Owens had no doubt that she believed her words. “How long until it can be deployed?” he asked. Her confidence in Project Archangel was inspiring him with a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long time. Hope.

“We’re about two weeks away from the first test runs. After that, maybe two more weeks. A month at the most.”

The lift returned them to D level and once the blast door had shut behind them again Tren entered another series of commands into the console. Once she was done it went completely blank.

She looked at Michael Owens. “The underground lab is now completely locked out. Nobody should be able to get there from here.”

He didn’t know if to feel relieved or worried by the news. Santesh-Yardro, his scientists and Archangel would be completely safe. But they were not. While the researchers below would be able to complete the work on the weapon that would finally deliver them from war, Michael Owens and everybody else around him might not live to see that day.

------------------
Stay tuned for Chapter IX: Counter-Move
 
Re: Chapter VIII - Contact

You're not letting anyone catch their breath, are you? ;)

Good to see Leva get back into the game. Culsten is in WAY over his head.

And Tren finally lets Owens in on Archangel. Wonder what it does? . . .
 
Re: Chapter VIII - Contact

Thanks for the continued feedback, it is very much appreciated.

As I'm very close to finish writing Cry Havoc I kinda want to get it posted as quickly as possible so that I can focus on other projects. But it's still a long way to go ...

Also I'm still greatly anticipating the next chapter in the Bluefin saga. Same goes for Sutherland and in fact many other quality series which seem to be on hiatus at the moment.
 
Re: Chapter VIII - Contact

Nice action packed chapter, CeJay. And now we have Archangel...I'm curious to see what it is and how it's supposed to end the war quickly. Culsten has been thrown into the deep end of the pool, now he has to sink or swim. And Leva has decided to check his ego at the door.

Very well done!
 
Chapter IX - Counter-Move

Chapter IX – Counter-Move


Things were moving at the wrong pace. Teleka’clan was convinced of that. After all this was not his first major combat engagement. He had taken part in many similar attacks over the five years since he had been created and faithfully served the Dominion. Granted, many of the Dominion’s enemies in the Delta quadrant had been less advanced than the Federation or had lacked the willingness to fight like the humans and their allies did. But that was even more reason why he was convinced that this strike had to be carried out swiftly and before the Starfleet crew had a chance to mount an effective defense.

And yet that which was so perfectly obvious to him seemed to escape Wegnour. Instead of using all the forces under his command to push for an easy victory, the Vorta had decided to tip-toe around the enemy. This kind of overly cautious approach was making Teleka’clan sick.

“We have taken control of the base’s command center. As anticipated there has been no resistance,” a Jem’Hadar solider reported from the communications station in the command center.

It was too easy, Teleka’clan felt. And he didn’t like that he had not been allowed to join his men in battle. Instead he was being kept on a short leash by the insufferable Vorta.

Wegnour didn’t reply to the report. Instead he was busy studying another console. He seemed nervous, as if he was waiting for something to happen.

Teleka’clan stepped next to him which caused the Vorta to quickly clear the screen he had been looking at.

The Jem’Hadar First did not show the annoyance he felt by the Wegnour’s attempt to keep secrets. He couldn’t understand the need however. He was a loyal subject of the Dominion. More loyal to the Founders than any Vorta could ever be.

“We have the command center,” Teleka’clan repeated.

“Very good.”

“What are our next orders?”

Wegnour seemed to consider the question for a moment. No matter how much he was trying to mask it, the Jem’Hadar realized that the Vorta wasn’t sure of himself. His incompetence seemed to know no bounds. He could not understand how this fool could have been given command over this mission.

“We should initiate phase two of the attack,” the Jem’Hadar commander continued when he Vorta did not reply.

Teleka’clan turned away in a clear sign of disrespect and headed straight for the exit. He was going to take action even if the Vorta could not.

Just before he had reached the doors Wegnour suddenly spun around. “Where do you think you’re going?”

The Jem’Hadar first froze in place. “One of our patrols has failed to report in. I will investigate.”

“You will look at me when you speak to me, First.”

Teleka’clan slowly turned. The Vorta did not look uncertain anymore. Instead his face was a mirror of utter determination now. “If you cannot act on my orders,” he said with disdain. “I will find someone who can and your services would become redundant.”

The Jem’Hadar understood exactly what the Vorta was implying. There was only one fate that would await a redundant fighting machine.

“You will not leave this room until I order you to. You will take no actions until I tell you to. You will not think until I have explicitly allowed you to.”

The Jem’Hadar simply stood like petrified.

A small smile crept over Wegnour’s face. “Make no mistake, Teleka’clan. I am in full control of this mission. And we will be successful if you do exactly what I tell you.”

The Vorta’s authority was absolute, Teleka’clan knew that. But there was one order he could not enforce no matter how much the Vorta demanded it. He could not order him to stop thinking. And at this precise moment only one thought crossed the Jem’Hadar’s mind. Wegnour was lying.



***********************************************************


“We need weapons,” was the first thing Nora had said once Captain Owens had outlined their situation and his plan. He had explained to his officers that it was absolutely vital that they hold off the Jem’Hadar long enough until Eagle could be contacted and bring in reinforcements.

The plan was simple really. Owens, Tren and Nora would attempt to get to E level – one deck below – and use the emergency transmitter to get in touch with Eagle. Edison would join them but continue with Hopkins and Deen to the engineering section on F level. If Hopkins could reinitiate main power they could use the station’s automated defenses to fight off the attacker. Also their chances of reestablishing communications and transporters would greatly increase once power was restored.

Xylion had determined that their problem with communications was due to an external interference no doubt created by the Jem’Hadar attack force. However without main power a more in-depth analysis would not be possible nor was there much of a chance to devise of a way to counter the interference. But Owens had decided that the Vulcan and Lieutenant Commander Monroe should stay in the auxiliary control room where they would have the best chance to coordinate their defenses once power was restored.

Tren stepped up to a row of crates. “We might not have much but we do have weapons,” she said and began to open one crate after the other, each one packed with brand new phaser rifles.

“These were for your men, weren’t they?” the captain asked.

The Betazoid nodded slowly, a particularly sad expression crossing her face. Owens had noticed before that Jana’s expression darkened significantly whenever she was reminded of the fate of her security force. It appeared to him as if their loss did not just affect her on a professional level but also on a deeply personal as well. Whatever she felt, she shook it off quickly, grabbed the weapons and began to distribute them among the officers.

“I’m going to search our surroundings for any survivors,” said Monroe who had not taken Owens’ new orders very well. She had kept her objections to herself this time but had now decided to take action, clearly unhappy about being left behind.

Edison shook his head. “The entire crew has been knocked out by anesthetize gas. They wouldn’t do us much good.”

But Monroe reached for a small box and opened it, revealing a row of at least twenty slim injectors. “We have enough cordrazine here to resuscitate at least four dozen men. It won’t be pretty but they’ll be awake.”

Owens gave her an approving nod. “Very well but don’t stray too far from this room. The Jem’Hadar don’t know our location yet and the longer we remain undiscovered the greater our chances for survival.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied in a sharp tone of voice that bordered at defiance. It was all too obvious that she didn’t like getting orders from Owens.

Edison stepped up to Nora who was checking the settings of her newly acquired phaser rifle. Without a word he reached into the crate to retrieve one for himself. He quickly looked around but nobody seemed to be in earshot. “Are you alright?” he asked quietly.

Nora stopped checking her weapon. “I’m fine, why do you ask?”

He simply shrugged his shoulders.

A large smile came over her face. “You’re worried about me.”

Edison began to inspect his own rifle, pretending his entire focus was directed at making sure it was working properly. “I just want to know if my security chief has a handle on things. It is my job to make sure.”

She nodded but couldn’t quite get that smile of her face. “Sure.”

The first officer lowered his weapon and looked straight into her eyes. “Listen, be careful out there, alright?”

Her smile disappeared. “I’ve been in worse situations than this one, Gene.”

“Of that I have no doubt.”

“Let’s get ready to move out,” Owens called out from the other side of the room.

Eugene Edison gripped his weapon firmly and turned towards the captain. But before he could walk away Nora reached out for his arm, holding him in place. “I’ll be careful if you promise me something in return.”

He gave her an asking expression.

“Let’s both get out of this in once piece. There are a lot of things I still want to do to you,” she said with a devilish grin.

“Well, you just gave me the best reason to keep that promise,” he said and stepped away.

Nora took a deep breath and turned towards the captain. “We’re ready when you are, sir.”

********
 
Re: Chapter IX - Counter-Move

Two of Eagle’s medium-sized shuttle craft, the Agincourt and the Roentgen, cleared their mother ship’s shuttle bay and shot out towards the crimson planet below. Each vessel carried six Marines. Their mission: locate Eagle’s away team and bring them back safely to the ship.

Inside Agincourt Leva sat at the helm with Major Wasco occupying the co-pilots seat. The Agincourt had been designated lead ship and was going to approach the outpost below first while Roentgen would follow.

The entrance into the upper atmosphere proved to be uneventful. Once both ships had cleared the thick red stratosphere they found clear skies and a surface of reddish dirt and sparse green and brown vegetation. The landscape that stretched out below was mostly undulating with small hills and patches of thick tree grow.

Agincourt to Roentgen,” Leva said, “Initiating low level approach, our designated landing zone is five point three kilometers west of Epsilon Twelve. Keep your distance and maintain radio silence.”

“Roentgen, copy,” replied the voice of Corporal Chrystal Neveu. Leva knew that D’Karr was piloting the Roentgen but he assumed that he had given the Marine the handling of communications. He certainly didn’t mind.

The half-Romulan took the shuttle into a sharp dive towards the surface below and his sensors confirmed that Roentgen was mirroring the move.

“I’m reading massive interference on all sensors,” Wasco reported. “This radiation is already beginning to play havoc on our systems.”

Leva checked his instruments. True enough the sensor read-outs had become nearly indecipherable and communications was already down. “This can’t be natural.”

“Whoever is out there,” Wasco said, “They don’t want us to know they’re there.”

Just as Leva began to level out the shuttle about eighty meters from the surface he spotted a sudden flare of light in the distance. At first he thought it was an indicator light from Epsilon Twelve when he suddenly realized that it was not stationary. It was coming their way. And fast.

Wasco saw it too. “Incoming, ten o’clock!”

“Hold on,” Leva called over his shoulder to alert the Marines sitting in the back before he suddenly broke the approach and dived closer to the ground.

The missile missed the shuttle by less than five meter and the red alert klaxons began to haul after the computer had finally acknowledged the danger. Without working sensors it was unable to detect the incoming fire until it was practically too late. The shuttle crew was going to have to do this the old-fashioned way by relying on their eyes.

“Another one, seven o’clock, low!” Wasco shouted as he cranked his head back to maintain a visual with the deadly missile.

“We need to land now. Can you see Roentgen?”

The major shook his head. His field of vision was limited of course, the shuttle didn’t have windows in the back but the other shuttle was not where it was supposed to be. He didn’t voice his worst fear. “Negative, no visual.”

Agincourt trembled wildly as it brushed against the treetops below, traveling at four hundred fifty kilometers per hour. Leva momentarily lost control of the ship and it banked sharply to the right. As it turned out the undesired course change saved their lives. The missile shot straight into the ground just ten meters to their left, igniting s small fire storm were it had hit.

“There is a cave at two o’clock,” Leva suddenly noticed. “It might be big enough for us to fit in.”

Wasco turned. “Looks awful small,” the major said once he spotted the narrow tunnel. It looked like an old mining shaft, supported by solid duranium beams. He knew hitting one of those would spell doom to the shuttle and their occupants.

“No choice,” Leva said and steered the nose of the shuttle straight towards the entrance. As Agincourt raced towards the shaft Leva could swear it was becoming smaller the closer they got. About two hundred meters out he transferred all available power to the reverse thrusters. It was a calculated risk. Even if he didn’t hit the support beams and could squeeze the shuttle into the opening, if the shaft turned out to be too short they wouldn’t have nearly enough braking power to avoid catastrophe.

Wasco decided not to distract Leva with the other missile he had just spotted shooting their way. Instead he allowed himself a quick look at his men in the back. “Brace for landing. This might be a rough one.”

Leva kept his eyes focused straight ahead. Only at the last few seconds did he realize that the opening was just about big enough to allow the shuttle through. But they were still traveling at over two hundred kilometers per hour, even grazing the beams would make this landing and utterly fatal endeavor.

He held his breath and Agincourt slipped into darkness.

Seconds later Wasco found the control for the vessel’s flood lights. The shaft lightened up and to their collective relieve they found that it widened as they went on.

The shuttle decelerated sharply.

“It’s caved in ahead!” Waco suddenly noticed.

Leva narrowed his eyes as he put everything he had on reverse thrust. It was not going to be enough. Agincourt would slam into a pile of large boulders which had come loose from the ceiling.

“You predicted a rough landing,” Leva said, “You’re going to get one.” Knowing that their breaking power was not going to be enough to avoid a head-on collision Leva did the only thing that he could think off. He drove the shuttle into the ground.

The impact threw him out of the seat and his head connected harshly against a console. The last thing he saw was Wasco’s usually controlled face transformed into a mask of terror. It was nothing but darkness after that.

*******
 
Re: Chapter IX - Counter-Move

Talk about your cliffhanger ending...ouch! And as for Monroe--I've got a feeling there's more to her than meets the eye...a lot more. You're doing a good job maintaining the flow and pacing. Looking forward to more.
 
Re: Chapter IX - Counter-Move

The crimson shimmering corridor on E level seemed entirely devoid of movement or life. This was until a low rumbling sound echoed out of a ventilation shaft on the ceiling. Moments later the grating covering the shaft, dropped to the ground below and Nora Laas followed not a moment later. She landed in a crouch and swiftly waved her phaser rifle in both directions. The flashlight mounted on the weapon revealed nothing but emptiness in either direction. She waited a few more seconds before looking up again.

“Clear,” she announced just loud enough for the ones waiting above her to hear.

Michael Owens came through next; landing slightly less graceful than Nora had moments before. He handed her his own weapon before he caught another rifle being tossed from above. He had wanted to help Tren out of the ventilation tunnel above but she had apparently decided that she didn’t need him except for holding her weapon.

She landed a few inches next to him, maintaining a near perfect balance.

“That wasn’t too bad,” she said with a small smile as she was handed back her weapon.

“You were always very athletic,” Owens said mirroring her smile. “Didn’t you come in sixth in the Academy marathon?”

“Fourth,” she reminded him with mock annoyance.

In fact Michael Owens remembered perfectly well that she had come in fourth at the end of that race nineteen years ago. It had only been due to a computer error she had been placed seventh in the final rankings. It had never been corrected and Michael had always taken pleasure in teasing her about it.

“Perhaps you could use that award winning athleticism to lead us to that transmitter?” Owens asked.

“This way,” she said and headed out.

Nora knew that the two of them had a past. There was probably nobody left on the ship who hadn’t made that connection yet. But she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at their interchange. She hoped that she wasn’t that obvious with Gene.

As they continued towards their destination they found their surroundings much emptier than the upper decks. Tren had explained that E level had hardly any storage rooms and therefore they were able to make good progress.

However Owens soon realized that while the level might have been clear of obstructions it certainly didn’t lack intersections. It was not much different than navigating a maze and he didn’t notice any posted directions or signs to speak off.

Tren had led the way quietly and seemingly very confident as to which route to take.

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Owens asked after the many turns were beginning to give him a headache.

“I studied the blueprints to this station in every detail,” she replied without slowing her pace.

“Wait,” said Nora suddenly. “You’re saying that you’ve never been here before?”

“Don’t worry, Lieutenant, I practically designed this place.”

Owens uttered a slight sigh of relief. “Good,” he said as they rounded another corner. “I would hate to think that we might get lost in –”

Jana Tren had suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. Owens realized just a moment later why. There was a solid wall right in front of them. They had walked straight into a dead end.

“That can’t be right,” the Betazoid mumbled absentmindedly.

Nora instantly whipped around. Dead ends usually meant ambushes to her. The corridor behind them was clear however.

“We must have taken a wrong turn,” Jana said.

“You think?” Nora shot back.

But the Betazoid was too preoccupied with retracing their steps in her mind to catch the sarcasm in the security officer’s voice. She turned around and began to head back. “I’m pretty sure it was that last intersection.”

“As sure as you were that this was the right way?”

“Giver her a break, Lieutenant, it is dark here and there are a lot of corridors,” Owens defended Tren. It felt almost natural for him to do so.

They returned to the last intersection and the Betazoid tried to get her bearings while Nora carefully checked all directions for enemy signs. She felt too exposed at their position. Her flashlight caught something and she instantly dropped to a crouch. “Sir,” she whispered.

Owens turned, brining his phaser rifle to bear as well.

It was some form of object that had startled them, no thirty meters down the corridor. It seemed motionless.

The captain gestured Nora to approach by staying close to the far wall while he closed in from the opposite side. Tren would cover them from the intersection.

As Owens carefully stepped closer the object was beginning to take shape. He soon realized that it was just the tip of something larger. It was black and polished. A boot.

“It’s a body,” Nora recognized. “Starfleet.”

They quickened their approach. While Owens stepped right up to the body Nora secured their surroundings, always looking for that trap.

Owens’ flashlight traveled up the length of the man’s body. He wore a red, command shirt and the rank insignias of a captain. His skin had a distinctly blue tone. “Zalak,” Owens realized and knelt down next to the unconscious man. He reached out to feel for his pulse but couldn’t find one. He wasn’t sure were to check for one on Bolians.

Jana Tren had moved up now and stood over the two captains. “Is he alright?”

Michael looked up at her. “I’m not sure.”

The Bolian suddenly began to cough, causing Owens to jump slightly. “Captain?”

But Zalak didn’t seem able to stop so Owens helped him up into a sitting position against the wall.

“What,” he mumbled but another fit of coughing stopped him short. “What happened?”

“The base was flooded by anesthizine gas,” Owens replied. “It must have knocked you out as well.”

The Bolian nodded slowly. “Yes, I remember. We lost power and communications. I tried to get to the emergency transmitter before I lost consciousness.”

Captain Owens helped his fellow captain to his feet. “It got nearly all of your crew, you’re lucky you snapped out of it.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” Zalak replied. “My people have a natural resistance to certain forms of gasses. Do you know what triggered it to be released?”

Tren answered his question. “We are being attacked by Jem’Hadar forces. They’re after Archangel.”

“That’s impossible,” he countered. “Knowledge of this location was strictly confidential.”

“Well, somehow they found out. We can try to figure out how exactly later, “ Captain Owens explained. “We have to get to the transmitter and contact Eagle. That’s our only chance right now.”

The base commander nodded in agreement. “It isn’t far.”

“Well then,” Nora said to the Bolian before shooting Tren and insinuating look. “Perhaps you could lead us there.”

The Betazoid either didn’t notice or didn’t seem bothered by the implication. She kept her eyes firmly on Captain Zalak.

“Certainly but first I need to know if Archangel is safe.”

Tren nodded. “For now. I have implemented a lock down of the underground facility. There is virtually no access to the lab short of a catastrophic power overload perhaps.”

“Then let’s not waste any more time,” he said and gestured for Nora’s sidearm which she quickly handed over. “Follow me.”


******
 
Re: Chapter IX - Counter-Move

“I could fly the Magellan Spiral blindfolded.”

“Anyone could,” replied Lif Culsten to Srena’s bold boast. “The question is, could you keep your vessel in once piece doing it.”

The glib Andorian ensign shrugged her shoulders in an effort to maintain her smooth demeanor but her tweaking antennas gave her away. “They didn’t call me Spiraling Srena for nothing when I flew for Nova squad.”

“You were in Nova?”

Srena’s eyes sparkled now. “You sound surprised.”

Culsten leaned back in the command chair. “I didn’t realize.”

“So what?” chimed in Lance Stiller sitting at operations. “Is that supposed to be a mark of great distinction? It’s just a bunch of over-eager and arrogant cadets who think they’re better than anybody else, if you ask me.”

“You’re just mad that you didn’t get in,” Srena countered.

“Damn right.”

“I was flight-leader of those arrogant cadets in my senior year,” said Culsten, feigning a sense of hurt.

Stiller shrugged. “I rest my case.”

The young Andorian laughed and then turned back towards Culsten. “What was your call sign?”

“Silver,” he answered brushing through his same-colored hair.

“You’re Silver?” Now it was Srena’s voice that echoed the surprise.

Culsten nodded, momentarily feeling the pride of being recognized by a fellow pilot.

“Thanks to some of your off-regulations maneuvers my class was made to sit through sixteen hours of safety lectures,” she said with a scowl. “Those were not fun.”

The Krellonian frowned but quickly turned it back into a smile. “Maybe not but I bet you needed them.”

Culsten hadn’t even noticed Doctor Wenera step onto the bridge while speaking to Srena and Lance Stiller. Only now did he realize that she was standing just a few meters away giving him a look a mother would give to a misbehaving child. Almost out of instinct Culsten straightened up in his seat.

“Can I have a word with you?” Wenera asked sternly.

“Certainly,” Culsten said with a waning smile and stood. “Let’s take the ready room.”

The doctor nodded and let Culsten lead the way.

Even though he was Eagle’s acting captain Culsten felt immediately uncomfortable inside Owens’ office. He felt as if he didn’t belong there. And he knew he didn’t. He was merely a guest in the ready room and as such he decided not to sit down in the chair behind the glass and ebony desk.

“What are you doing?” The doctor asked just seconds after the doors had closed shut behind her.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Don’t you think that the way you talk and joke with the crew is somewhat inappropriate given our present situation?”

But the young officer could not see any fault in what he had done. “I’ve heard the captain tell a few jokes on the bridge before.”

“In a crisis situation? During wartimes?”

Culsten didn’t have an answer.

“I don’t think what you’re doing is a good thing if things get tough. You are treating them like equals.”

The Krellonian shrugged. “We are. Lance and I have the same rank and are about the same age and Srena is only about –“

The doctor shook her head and cut him off. “You are in command, Lif. While you sit in that chair you are not an equal and you know that. They will depend on you to lead them and I don’t think you’ll be very good at it if they think of you as their best friend.”

The helmsman leaned against the desk as he considered her words. He had not expected a speech about appropriate behavior for a commanding officer coming from Doctor Ashley Wenera. And he couldn’t really see her point either. What was the harm in maintaining cordial relationships with the people under his command? He could be both a captain and a friend to the crew.

“No offense, doc, but isn’t your own experience as a commanding officer rather limited?”

Wenera didn’t look as if she had taken offense. “You don’t think I make life and death decisions in sickbay? Before coming on Eagle I served with the interstellar relief agency and trust me when I tell you that I was put into more than one situation where I had to give orders that could decide over the fate of many patients,” she said calmly. “Don’t get me wrong, I do believe in making friends and most of my colleges are but not when lives hang in the balance.”

Culsten suppressed the urge to swallow. “I see your point.”

“There is another reason I asked to speak to you.”

“Another lecture?” Culsten gibed.

“I wish,” she replied. “I ran another analysis on the affects of the increased trithium radition on our people on the surface.”

Culsten braced himself for bad news.

“I’m afraid I might have been wrong with my initial assesment. Prolonged exposure to the radiation might quite possibly lead to long-term cellular damage. Especially among the human members of the away team.”

The young Krellonian put a hand in front of his eyes and rubbed his temples. “What can we do?”

This time Wenera didn’t have an answer for him. She berated herself for having been so optimistic at first which had placed both herself and Culsten into a false sense of security, giving them the illusion that time was on their side. Now she most certainly knew that this was not the case. Whatever trouble Owens and the others were in had just doubled. Perhaps that was the reason that she had suddenly felt as if Culsten’s trifling with the crew was entirely out of place.

“Srena to … Silver.”

Cuslten looked towards the ceiling, suddenly very emberessed at the mention of his former call sign. “What is it?”

“We might have detected something here. You’d better have a look at it.”

Culsten glanced at Wenera and didn’t miss the solemnity stamped onto her face. “We’re on our way,” he said and then added. “And Srena?”

“Yes.”

“I think it would be more appropriate if you’d address me as Lieutenant Culsten,” he said more quietly.

“Yes, sir,” she added playfully and terminated the connection.

“Better?” he asked Wenera.

But the doctor simply rolled her eyes and turned away to step back onto the bridge.

Culsten was two steps behind her and only moments after passsing through the doors asked for a report. “What do we have?”

“A possible sensor contact,” Lieutenant Trinik at tactical replied immediately. “Six-hundred thousand kilometers at four five mark seven seven eight.”

“So close?” Culsten replied with a sudden string of panic in his voice.

“Whatever it is,” Lance Stiller said. “It is close to the magnetic pole of Ligos IV which explains why we are not getting a clear signal.”

The Krellonian acting captain sat down in his chair. “Yellow alert,” he said.

Wenera who had taken the seat next to him gave him a quzzical expression.

“The last time we had a fuzzy sensor contact we ended up facing two Jem’Hadar attack fighters,” Culsten explained as he felt his throat thightening.

“Sir,” announced Lieutenant Lance Stiller with utter professionalims. “I believe history is about to repeat itself,” he said and manipulated his controls.

The image on the main viewscreen shifted, now showing a heavily magnified image of Ligos IV. But the crimson colored planet was not the reason for the sudden shiver running down Lif Culsten’s spine. At the very center of the screen two unmistakably bug-shaped starships were making a beeline approch towards them. It was going to be a question of minutes until he would have to – for the first time ever – lead the ship and its crew into battle.

“Oh my,” said Doctor Wenera, more than summing up the feelings of the entire bridge personnel.


-----------------
Stay tuned for Chapter X - Second Front
 
Re: Chapter IX - Counter-Move

Good chapters, but I think Doctor Wenera was a little out of line there with lecturing Lif Culsten. She should have no complaints about his command style until there's some evidence that there's an actual problem with it, and right now the only problem I see is that he keeps listening to Wenera.

What Wenera - and Lif - seem to be forgetting is that there is a difference between having the conn and being The Captain. Culsten has the conn. He's not The Captain, and the last thing he needs to do is start acting like he's The Captain, especially when everybody's under the impression that The Captain will eventualy return. When that happens, he's going to be right back where he started, and it's going to be a looooong mission for him if he spends what little time he has in command acting like he earned a fourth pip.

Him treating his equals like equals is not a problem as long as the others understand that he has the conn right now and act accordingly. As long as they do what he needs them to do when he orders them to do it, their being overly friendly with each other is not really a problem. It becomes a problem if the others take advantage of the friendship and are consequently insubordinate, but that hasn't happened yet, and until it does Wenera has no business taking Culsten to task over how he interacts with his crew.

Also, it's not unheard of for people facing dire combat situations to crack jokes. It's a way of keeping morale up. Lif and the others are cracking jokes because right now they're sure they'll get all their people back safely - and it keeps them from brooding over the other possibilities. Again, this is not a problem until it becomes denial (they're cracking jokes in the face of absolutely certain defeat), which is not the case.

Wenera has jumped the gun here on criticizing Culsten, and that's probably because - contrary to what she thinks - making life-and-death decisions in a medical triage situation is not exactly the same as running a ship, and she really is as inexperienced at it as he is, if not less so. Simply put, she knows not whereof she speaks, and I think for now she needs to stop speaking.
 
Re: Chapter IX - Counter-Move

It is a very decent point and I find myself partially in agreement.

Wenera might have jumped the gun here and if she did, it is because she is very scared of what is / could happen here. Technically she is the only senior officer left on the ship and knows that Culsten has no real command experience. (He never even got to take the conn during night shifts until earlier in this story)

Now she finds the always jovial and sometimes even immature Culsten joking and fraternizing with the crew during a time which could quite quickly (and apparently now will) turn into a major crisis. I don't think she has all that much confidence in Culsten as an acting captain at this point.

If she was right to take Culsten to task over his behavior is, I believe, a subjective issue. Perhaps she could have expressed her concerns in a different manner, such as carefully reminding him of the potential risks of not being focused on the task at hand. In the end she chose to confront him this way which of course gives us a glimpse at the nature of her character.

It remains to be seen if Lif's command style will have negative implications for Eagle and her crew.
 
Re: Chapter IX - Counter-Move

I'd like to add my kudos here as well. Culsten is now getting his baptism in fire--and Wenera as well. I like the notion of Wenera acting because she was nervous/scared. As for the confrontation--at least she knew enough to do it in private. I do agree with Admiral in that I think she did jump the gun just a bit--I don't think he really said or did anything really out of line. But CeJay, I most definitely see where you're coming from in that it does give insights into Wenera's character and does reflect her lack of confidence in him--which could most definitely have ramifications both short-term and long-term.

Again, I think what we're looking at here is what I believe to be a major theme of this work: The ship and crew's transition from "explorers" to "warriors". This transition is going to affect the crew in different ways: some will make the transition very easily, others with great difficulty, and some won't make it at all. It'll be very interesting seeing which members of the crew fit into which categories once it all shakes out.
 
Chapter X - Second Front

Chapter X – Second Front


Commander Edison, DeMara Deen and Louise Hopkins had split up from Owens’ team on E level to continue to the deck below which held most of Epsilon Twelve’s engineering systems. But unlike their colleagues they did not find empty corridors and easy passage. Instead their path was blocked by numerous heavy crates and containers. It appeared as if the crew of the engineering deck had been surprised by the sudden attack while attempting to store much of the cargo that had just been delivered to the outpost. A number of crewmembers were sprawled out in between the crates and for Eagle’s officers, the way to main engineering was quickly turning into an obstacle course. Thankfully they had yet to detect any signs of their enemy.

“I think I now understand your hesitation coming here,” said Hopkins as she helped the first officer push a large barrel out of their way.

DeMara Deen was gently lowering an incapacitated female crew member onto the floor to make room for them to climb over a crate directly ahead. She turned to look at the chief engineer. “Trust me, this is not what I expected at all.”

Hopkins nodded once they had cleared the barrel. Breathing heavily now.

“If nothing else,” said the first officer. “Consider it good exercise,” he added with a smile, trying to defuse the increasing tension with some humor. This entire situation really gave nobody anything to laugh about. The captain had made it quite clear that Epsilon Twelve was vital to the war effort and that its defense was utterly imperative. Why exactly, nobody but Owens and Tren knew. And while he didn’t trust the Betazoid agent he was willing to follow the captain to the ends of the universe if necessary. Even if that meant to carry out orders he would never fully understand.

“Sure,” Deen replied with a sheepish smile. “Climbing hundreds of meters in near darkness, navigating an obstacle course littered with lifeless bodies while being surrounded by an invisible enemy should be part of every workout routine.”

But the first officer decided to ignore the Tenarian’s impertinence and instead focused on the chief engineer. Even though Hopkins was at least seven years older than the youthful Deen he was much more worried about the chief engineer. Deen was certainly not a fighter, brought up on a world of utter peace and harmony violence had been an almost completely alien concept to her after leaving her home world. But Deen had adapted quickly to the rather harsh reality of the universe. Hopkins on the other hand had been shielded from much of the cruelty of war due to her position. Even before the war she had hardly ever joined away missions and since the outbreak of hostilities with the Dominion she had retreated to her engine room even more. Certainly she had seen death and destruction in that role but she had been spared the nastiness of any form of combat which would have required her to look into her enemy’s eyes.

Hopkins didn’t seem too concerned about their predicament however or managed to hide it well. She reached for the tricorder she had brought with her from the auxiliary control room. The sensors were still in-operational but she had managed to upload basic schematics of Epsilon Twelve before they had left.

“We’re almost there,” she announced and pointed at an intersection ahead. “If we turn left up there it should lead us right into the heart of engineering.”

The first officer nodded and indicated his fellow officers to climb over the last few crates blocking their path before he followed. They made the turn and discovered with great relief that the way ahead seemed mostly clear.

But after only a few steps down the empty corridor a sudden noise behind them made all three of them swing around at the same time, their phaser rifles at the ready. But the flashlights caught nothing but empty corridor.

The sound returned. It had a liquid quality as if somebody was pouring water into a container.

“You guys are hearing this too, right?” whispered Hopkins without taking her eyes off the corridor ahead.

Deen nodded and took a careful step forward. The noise had gone now, replaced by a sudden metallic clank and then nothing.

The first officer covered Deen as she stepped closer to the wall. Her flashlight found a small air vent in the bulkhead positioned at waist height. She knelt down and inspected the narrow shaft with her rifle. Edison stepped next to the hatch covering the shaft and reached out to open it. Deen raised her weapon into position.

In one swift motion Edison removed the hatch.

Deen peered inside. “Empty.”

Hopkins stepped up to get a look herself.

“It’s too small for a humanoid to fit through,” Deen realized.

“Maybe there is something on this station which is not humanoid,” the chief engineer whispered.

Edison noticed the sudden fear in the young woman’s eyes. “Or maybe it was nothing more than a leaking coolant conduit. Let’s not waste time on pointless hypotheses. We have a job to do.”

Deen nodded and stood. “How far to main engineering?” she asked Hopkins.

The chief engineer gave the empty shaft another suspicious look before returning to lead the way towards their destination.

They reached it just a few short minutes later. Epsilon Twelve’s main engineering section was not much more than a cargo hold sized room filled with computer consoles and status displays. Two heavy blast doors allowed access into the room. Both of them were currently fully opened. Most of the consoles were dark or operating on emergency power. No more than five engineers had occupied the large room when the gas had been released. They were all hunched over various computer stations.

“Dee, see if you can find a way to shut those doors,” Edison said the moment he had gotten a picture of the situation. “Louise, I want you to look into how we can reestablish main power.”

The two officers acknowledged and went straight to work while Edison cautiously investigated the second entrance. He found no sign of an enemy presence however.

The moment he had stepped back into the engine room the blast door came down and so did the one on the opposite side. He found Deen and gave her an appreciative nod. He also allowed himself a small sigh of relief, knowing that for the moment they were safe from a sneak attack.

Louise Hopkins on the other hand shook her head with frustration as she studied the main system’s control panel. “The generators have been shut down,” she explained and then turned away from the useless computer station. “There is nothing I can do from here. I need direct access to the generators.”

“Very well, where are they?” the first officer asked.

Hopkins’ search took only a few moments. She noticed a door in the back of the engine room and indicated it to the others. “That way,” she said and stepped right through. Deen and Edison followed closely.

The small room contained a central hatch leading downwards. The light was significantly dimmer here but Hopkins seemed undeterred as she climbed into the hatch. Edison wanted to stop her and suggest that he went first but it was too late. Instead he and Deen helped illuminate her way as she climbed downwards on the ladder below.

“Yes, this is the reactor room alright,” she called up once she had reached the bottom. “I can see at least three standard fusion generators. There is something else down here but …”

“What is it, Louise?” Deen asked when Hopkins had suddenly stopped speaking. She could still see her standing at the bottom of the ladder and staring at whatever she had found. But she was not speaking. She was frozen in place.

“Lieutenant?” Edison asked with more urgency.

She did not react.

Edison and Deen exchanged worried expressions and then quickly made their way down the ladder.

The reactor room’s floor consisted out of metal grating which squeaked noticeably when Edison set foot on it.

The sound snapped Hopkins out of her trance and she whipped around and towards Edison. He could see her eyes wide open as if in shock. They were quickly becoming wet.

He stepped around her and found the room much darker than the rest of the engineering section. But the few operational consoles and the warning indicator lights on the three heavy generators were enough to give an adequate picture of the massacre that had happened here.

Half a dozen engineering officers lay dead on the deck. The reason it was immediately apparent that they had not been gassed like the others was the horrible smell that filled the entire room. The second equally powerful sign was the large amount of blood that covered the corpses and trickled down the metal grating. These crewmembers had been killed viciously at close distance and not by energy weapons either. The killers had used seemingly razor sharp melee weapons to dispose of their victims. And the engineers had not stood a chance, even if they had tried to fight back there was no indication whatsoever that they had managed to even wound one of their attackers.

Deen reached the sight a moment later. Her hand shot up to cover her mouth. “What … happened here?”

But no answer was forthcoming. Not even Edison could find words to explain what they had discovered. He had seen massacres in his nineteen-year Starfleet career before but never one more determinedly executed than the one before him now. His state of initial shock lasted exactly thirty-two seconds. Then his rational mind kicked in. Whoever had done this could come back and by that time they better had main power back online. He tore himself away from the field of death to address Hopkins who was still staring at the opposite bulkhead an empty expression on her face now.

“Lieutenant, I know this is going to be difficult but I need you to get those generators back online.”

Hopkins didn’t reply, hardly even moved a single muscle.

Edison stepped next to her and gently put a hand on her shoulder which caused her to look into his eyes. “Louise, listen to me. If we don’t get main power restored quickly whatever happened to these people might very well happen to all of us. We can mourn those who died here once this is over.”

“These … these people. They were just engineers,” she croaked. “They weren’t soldiers.”

The next words were difficult for Edison to say but he knew he had to. “We’re all soldiers now, Louise.”

She turned back around to look over the slain bodies. One thought prevailed in her mind more than any other. That could have been her people, lying in a pool of their own blood. It could have been her friends. It could have been her.

“The captain, everybody, depends on us repairing the generators,” the first officer said quietly. “You are the best engineer I know. Do what you came here to do.”

Hopkins took a small breath. “I need light and I need tools,” she said quietly and then without another words walked towards the generators without even looking down at the bodies between her feet, seemingly unaware of the blood she was stepping through.

Edison turned to Deen who had remained utterly quiet. “Are you ok?”

The Tenarian officer didn’t reply immediately. “I think I –”, she stopped herself when her voice suddenly left her. She quickly wiped away a single tear that was threatening to escape her eye. “What do you need me to do?” she asked more firmly.

“Go back up and find whatever tools and light sources you can find.”

She nodded and quickly climbed up the ladder.

Edison watched Louise Hopkins for a moment as she began to inspect the first generator. She seemed entirely focused on the task at hand, her eyes didn’t even stray in the slightest towards her sickening surroundings. He knew that she couldn’t allow for that to happen. He couldn’t allow for that to happen. And so he removed his uniform jacket, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and went to work at the most unenviable job he had ever done.

*******
 
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