"Sir, I've read somewhere that if we close the gap on those torpedos, they won't have time to arm....they will just be large kinetic rounds, but won't explode."
"If we go to full impulse, we should close the gap enough for a chance."
She's uncloaking! Her engines and weapons are at 10 percent, warpdrive is offline. She's not going anywhere now." Gordon reported hapily.
"Great, maybe we can get some more prisoners to find out how the hell they know about this place.." was Mercers reply.
"Im on it. Firehawk, looks like Mercer has control of this bird, your with me. Also, you two," Snow pointed at two of the red shirt cadets clutching shot guns, "your with me as well." The cadets beamed... they were born for away missions, the thrill of ship to ship action was not for them.
"Gordon, keep a lock on us. I want a quick evacuation if anything goes wrong... warp core failure, red shirts dropping, continued fire from our fleet, that sort of thing. Lt, you think we can get some help on this one?"
Mercer made a fleet wide announcement. "Snows tactical squad is enroute to the disabled BoP. Request assistance in the capture of the vessel and its personel."
The quadroon made their way to the nearest transporter room... the same room Snow had launched his IED from.
"Load up with the neuro shock rounds. We want these targs alive." A chorus of clacks and chuck chicks.. the beautiful songs only a shot gun can play.. answered his order.
He set the controls to transport them directly onto the BoP's bridge. They kneeled on the pad back to back, weapons raised but loose, heads on a swivel. The strange green field of energy from the Romulan transporter filled their vision then cleared to reveal a darkened smoke filled Klingon bridge.
A loud curse, in Klingon, followed by the discharge of two shotguns and the fuzz pop sound of the neuro shock rounds. The captain is dead in his chair, a chunk of debris resting in his skull. Two more quick shouts, a disrupter blast, the continuing report of shotguns, and the bridge is empty of all but a grim faced tactical squad and some seriously stunned Klingon officers.
"Secure the bridge. Block those doors and lock out the controls. We may not be able to command this bird right off the bat but neither is engineering."
"This is Lt. Commander Snow to the Nevada. I have control of the bridge of the disabled BoP. Lt Snow to Lt Mercer, bridge secure."
The comm chimed.
"Lt. Snow to Lt. Mercer. Bridge secure, sir."
"Good, but im still reading 20+ lifesigns aboard, half of which are heading toward the bridge. Get ready for some fun." I cracked while trying to find somewhere on the ship I could hit or do to thin the Klingon numbers.
Oh good, more fun. Yippee." Snow's voice was full of sarcasm as the channel closed. Lets see.... Oh this could work. I routed transporter control to my console, and powered up the brig's forcefields. I targeted several of the Klingons lifesigns and transported them into the brig. I put the view of the brig on the screen and watched 6 Klingons, two per cell, try and bash their way through the fields. I smiled to myself and hit the comm button. "Only 14 left Snow. We'll keep an eye out for any more opps to thin the rank."
"Understood, Snow out."
The Dewey continues to close on the opposing Bird of Prey at maximum speed as the weapon stations go dark. In a moment the Bridge Crew looks to me with questioning eyes...
"We are not done yet..." (I hope)
I activate the command chair backup weapons control:
Torpedoes are offline, but the Energy Weapon Coil Buffers are still holding a charge although not recharging...I've got one shot at this.
With the Phaser Array in defensive mode I am able to release rapid low power bursts against the 3 incoming torpedoes while targeting the Cannons on the engineering section of the final Bird of Prey.
"We have limited weapons...(Some hope returns to the questioning eyes)...Engaging Defensive Fire!"
Rapid low power bursts track the incoming torpedo. 1....2....3....Detonations....followed by shouts of relief.
In rapid succession..."Cannons...Firing!"
Both Cannons strike the Bird. It has clearly taken substantial damage, slowed and struggling to bring weapons to bear on the Dewey.
I again engage in evasive maneuvers as the Bird unleashes disruptor cannon fire in the rapid reducing range...
"Armor 50%...." I hear someone say....
"DEWEY, BRACE FOR IMPACT!" I shout, as we slice through the forward section of our opponent. Alarms and damage reports pour into the bridge....
My last thought as I'm thrown form my chair is for the safety of the crew...then all is black....
It was as if everything was happening in slow motion.......My hearing was muffled....I felt my arm burn or sting...my console burst into sparks and began to flame up....I heard the Captain shouting out..."Brace!" was all I could make out....or remember hearing....my last vision was the forward view screen filled with the Bird of Prey...Impact!!...
The sudden jarring stop caused by the Dewey ramming the BOP throws me forward into the bulkhead, causing a gush of blood to flow from a cut above my eye. As my vision starts to clear my nose is filled with the acrid smell of burnt electronics, as well as flesh and hair. Looking around the bridge I notice the Col. unconscious on the floor in front of the command chair. As XO, I assume command of the Dewey and tap my badge...
"BRIDGE TO SICKBAY, MEDICAL EMERGENCY...THE COL. IS HURT!!" "MR HERRICK..DAMAGE REPORT"
"Reports coming in now sir..damage to the forward deflector and the starboard launcher. Engineering reports that the warp core and impulse engines are offline as well." "There's a hull breech on deck 4 section Alpha 2, emergency bulkheads are active and holding."
The ships Dr. arrives on the bridge and heads straight to the Col. and starts to examine him. "How is he Doc?" " He has a major concussion and some bruising... I need to get him to sick bay now...CORPSMAN!!"
"Keep me posted on the Col.'s condition Dr."
Turning my attention back to the bridge...."Bridge to engineering...Jones here...How long before we can get the engines back online?...Not sure yet sir, we're still assessing the damage. I'll have an update for as soon as possible sir...Very well...Mr. Herrick let's see if we can see how bad the damage had been done to outside of the ship."
The veiwscreen shifts to an external view of the starboard side of the ship. Not much can be seen from this perspective....I look over to Lt. Blodvaerd...
"Lt. I want you to take a shuttle and give me a report on how bad the damage is to the outside of the Dewey if you please"
"Lt Snow to Lt Mercer, I left my prize from planet side on the bridge. Think you could toss that over to me? Ive got a feeling I may need it."
"You got it Snow" a few moments later and the blood stained bat'leth materialized on the floor in front of Snow. Not a moment too soon. A loud metallic smash and groan signaled the arrival of the first wave of Klingons. They were knocking on the rear door of the bridge. A second later and the side door began to creak.
"Snow, this is Mercer, be advised, a dampening field was just erected around your area. We have lost transporter lock and can no longer monitor your status. Its like some sort of localized sensor cloak. You will need to deactivate the field or use the transporters aboard the BoP to return."
"Understood, Snow out."
"Ok men, here they come. Ill take the rear door with Smith. Firehawk, you and Martinez on the side." Snow placed the bat'leth strategically behind him and readied his shot gun.
The side door burst first. Only a crack, but large enough for a Klingon officer to toss a grenade through. Firehawk, as quick as ever caught the explosive and tossed it back. Firehawk dove for cover regardless of his impecable timing, Martinez wasn't as quick... of movement or wits. He gawked through the door and caught a highly compressed blast of plasma in the face. It was quick... probably too quick for pain.
Snow didn't have time to reflect on these events, the rear door opened all at once, the blast to the side distracted both him and Smith, and a disrupter stream caught Snow in the knee cap as he let go a round from his modified SG. He fell to the ground, the lower half of his left leg greeted him on his way to the ground. That fall saved his life though as another disrupter blast took off his right antenae. Smith let go three shots in quick succession before getting a direct blast to his gut. The scream he let out as his midsection disolved would haunt Snow for years to come.
Firehawk was there letting fly. There were two Klingons left when Firehawk went down, a bat'leth strike to the back as his shot gun jammed. The blow looked serious but not fatal.
"hang in there buddy" Snow thought as he burried his klingon sword one third of the way into the rotten targs back. The remaining Klingon turned in surprise, they must have thought Snow was down for the count.
He sneered, spat, and cursed at Snow. Snow barely held on to consciousness. His life time of martial arts training allowed him a greater degree of focus and concentration than he would have otherwise had and it was this edge that saved him.
The shot gun was out of reach, the bat'leth was burried, and his phaser was holstered...he knew he wasnt quick enough to draw and fire before the Klingon could discharge the weapon already pointed at him. Even if he could, with his antenae gone his aim was sure to be poor. It took tremendous wilpower not to vomit at the disorientation he was feeling from its loss.
Lights flickered through the smoke filled room. The smell of burned flesh and plasma permeated the air. The Klingon drew his dagger while still keeping aim and leaned in close. If possible his stink drowned out the other odors aboard the bridge.
"It is a great honor for me to cut out your heart Andorian" The flash fizzle of a downed power cable cast an eerie light on the Klingons scared and grizzled face. Snow leaned his head back, almost casually, then brought it down with incredible speed and force on the bridge of the Klingons nose. The Klingon cursed and fell back on his rear. He opened his eyes just in time to find snow jaming the flashing end of that power cable into his face.
Snow grabbed the lower half of his left leg and strapped it to Firehawk. He then crawled, slowly, painfully, dragging firehawk with him, out of the bridge and down the corridor, looking for the first transporter room. He was losing consciousness, and Firehawk was getting pale...he was losing too much blood. It was too much... he fell into blackness.
Just as that last thought crossed my mind regarding how much worse things were getting, Mr. Drambuie again breaks me from my reverie: "Captain! The warbird has taken out the BoP just as she was begining to cloak and the Dewey's evasive actions to three torpedos have put her on a colision course with the Klingon vessel."
He really was getting good at this....
"Mr. Drambuie, redirect all available power except life support to the forward tractor beams and lock on the Dewey NOW!", "But sir we can't stop a vessel that size carrying that much inertia!"; damn him! I think..."Just do it commander!", I snap back at him. "Aye Sir!" he states and his hands begin to move with familiarity over the keys at his station. The Booty Bay lurches and shudders as she pitches forward and picks up some of the forward kinetic energy of the ship she has snared. "Helm, reverse full aft docking thrusters only." "Aye sir!" The hull plates of the Booty Bay begin to give an unfamiliar groaning and some squeals as well...a sudden loud 'pop' and the science and engineering consoles erupt in showering sparks and smoke...Mr. Grimmore will have some choice words for me, no doubt about it.
Mr. Fenris breaks in; "Sir an Anton Mercer aboard the warbird is announcing they have an away team aboard that BoP!", great I think...better and better..
"We lost the tractor beam, power conduits to engineering, science stations and all sensors captain.", Mr. Drambuie advises me. "We still have our external monitors though!"
The viewscreen displays the stately Dewey as she closes the last few meters of space between herself and the damaged BoP and plows into it, saucer section first. Bursts of gases erupt from both ships as hulls and then decks are breached.
"Doctor Neff, prepare for additional wounded...Mr. Fenris, attempt to contact the Dewey and see what help we may provide and contact Mr. Mercer and offer him our help as well. Also ask him to make a scan of both vessels and relay that over to us." "Aye sir I'm on it" she replies and turns back to her comm station.
Before I could put a lot of thought into what exactly I would undertake next I received a comm from Admiral Turner, basically to wit...lets wrap up Biosphere, for the moment. We have another pressing issue to deal with on a different world. We have learned enough here at this time to know that it will take a lifetime to properly catalog these domes and detail everything here. We will come back when time permits and do a proper job. At this time retrieve all planetside personnel and proceed to the seed ark planet undertake as many refit and repair operations as possible while you travel enroute to this world.
Well that's that then 1 dome and I'm headed home. I would love to investigate all the domes just out of sheer curiosity. However orders were orders and I had to turn dispassionate and leave this place, whatever my feelings might be towards it. I made a promise to myself to return some day, in whatever capacity.
As directed by Admiral Turner:
To all vessels and personnel we must break off all operations currently underway on Biosphere and it's moon. Retreive all personnel from the domes on Biosphere or it's moon. Proceed to the coordinates attached. Attend to your wounded and your vessels as best as you can while enroute.
I comm'ed Lt. Vixeyrose:
Lt. Vixeyrose, we are under orders to March Order and depart from Biosphere. It is imperative that we wrap up our operations here as quickly as possible. Take whatever field expediant actions you deem appropriate to achieve this end.
ENS Suran S'Triton is beamed aboard the USS Trial.
I take a look around and see that the Trial has taken some heavy damage from combat and I think to myself "My first assignment is going to an eventful one."
Knowing what has taken place and the probability of being short handed due to injury is high, I make my way to the bridge with all haste. "ENS Suran S'Triton reporting for duty Cpt. Lang."
"DAMN IT!" Even with the enhanced sensors and transporters I'll still couldn't get a lock on Snow and his team. I hope they are doing all right.
"Sir, message from Booty Bay." Gordon stated. "They want to know if they can be any help. They also request a scan of the Dewey to asses her situation."
"Situation?? Bring her up on the view screen."
We all gasped at the sight that appeared on the screen. The Dewey, hanging in space, barely able to keep itself afloat, and the BoP in the same position.
"GORDON! Scan the Dewey! Damage report! Life signs?!? ANYTHING??!!??"
"Sir! ... Minimal power. 3/4 crew life signs. Saucer section looks like a lost cause. Warp core appears stable."
"Relay that to the 'Bay. Scan the BoP Snow is on again. Try and find a hole in the dampner!."
"Sir! ..... FOUND ONE! But it's not big enough to get a stable read on anything."
"Send the coordinates to my panel." Just as I i recieved the numbers, I plugged them into the targeting array and fired a disruptor. It connected in the midsection of the BoP, and we saw half a dozen Klingons float into space.
"That did it!I can get a lo.... Sir.... Only Snow and Hawk are still alive.. Both are unconscious... Looks like they were trying to get to a transporter pad."
"Beam them directly to the Nevada sick bay, and alert the staff that they have priority."
"AYE! Sir, Fleet wide message from the Major General. All ships are to pack up crew and equpiment, move out to the specified cooridantes, effecting repairs and what not along the way, and await further orders."
"But what about the Dewey?" I half-thought, half said aloud.
"Don't worry. Everything will turn out all right." Neilel said coming to my side and putting her arms around my shoulders as we watched the battered, but never beaten, 7th Fleet regroup, and make preparations for its next journey....
Slowly waking up, Lt. Blodvaerd can feel a warm sensation on his right arm and hand.
The medical equipment in sick bay is busy reconstructing and grafting the muscle tissue and skin on his arm. He recalls the events of his console bursting into flames...and then the impact with the Bird of Prey...
"The Dewey!".....A medical officer replies...."The ship has made it Lt."
"How long before I can return to duty?"
The medical officer checks the computer screen and makes a few adjustments, then he responds, "At least 2 more hours."
"My arm and hand, will I have full use?"
He quickly responds, "Yes, nothing more than discoloration where the synthetic skin does not match with your natural skin tone."
"I would like to be awakened as soon as the process is complete, I want to return to my post."
The medical officer replies, "The nurse on duty will take care of that, I suggest you eat and drink something when the procedure is complete, then you can return to your post."
"I can take a snack and a drink now, if its not a bother?"
The water and the light snack go down with great appreciation. Still more than an hour and a half until my arm is fully repaired, Lt. Blodvaerd goes back to sleep.
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