"First and Third Squads, Remodulate! Fall back to the secondary line and prepare to cover the rest of us... all other units lay down covering fire!"
It was no small task for Shackelford to keep his voice cool while relaying orders that clearly indicated things weren't going well. There was just too many waves being thrown at them. They were adapting too quickly to weapons fire. And while remodulating their phaser rifles helped, the process was painstakingly slow in a firefight where seconds seemed like hours.
He watched two of his squads fall back to a secondary defensive cordon in a fairly orderly fashion, each soldier tweaking their rifles in a well practiced motion, adjusting the frequency of the phaser discharge to something random that might have a better chance of penetrating the Borg drones shielding. The rest of his men were laying it on as thick as they could, bolts streaming from the trenches in unison, slamming into an ever closer vanguard of drones. A few fell, here and there, but not enough. They would be upon his men in seconds.
"Second and Fourth squads, fall back! Use grenades if you have any left!"
Shackelford lit the primer on his own charge, tossing it at the nearest drone, then turned and vaulted himself out the trench and began scrambling up the slope towards the new fallback position. Phaser bolts whipped past him as the first and third squads started laying down cover for the rest of the unit. Behind him came the concussive whumps of several photon grenades going off.
Without warning, the air around him lit up in a sickly greenish flash. Shackelford felt as if someone had just hit him in the spine with a sledgehammer. As he hit the ground and rolled onto his side, the last thing he saw was the Borg vanguard, plodding ever closer... then everything went black.
((Phase 3 is open. Participants should continue to relay their characters activities in the Defera Invasion Zone.))
Last edited by sparrow794 on 06/07/12 13:36; edited 1 time in total
Well, after logging a successful 150 missions in Borg space, the command staff has saw it fit to draw the North Carolina from the Borg conflict and to spearhead the Klingon Operations effort. With that came a surprised promotion to join the command staff. Not to much going on the Klink front. Task Force Omega and the Borg have done a good job calming the war with them. But Admiral p'Rett informed me the 7th still needed to be prepared, even if things were looking good.
Starfleet asked if I wanted a new, bigger ship to go with the new Admiral pip on my shoulder. After a stellar performance at the fleet readiness exercise and all this lil ship has got me threw, I figure there was no point in changing a good thing.
We were on our way from DS9 to set up "shop", if you'd say, at K7. The Borg however found another way to drag us back into the battle with them. While passing near Defera we received an urgent hail from the U.S.S. Valley Forge. Their first officer informed me that my friend Shackelford took several squads down to help due to an intel that the Borg were mounting a massive push. Seems the intel was good for once, which isn't a shocker. It's the Borg....of course they were going to push hard. His #1 informed me that Shack and his squad were under heavy fire and we were the closest ship that could provide aid.
We've set course for Defera and should arrive in 16 minutes at max warp. I might only have one squad's worth of help to provide, but they've been through hell and back. I just hope we get there in time.
//:End Log, Commodore Huckabee, U.S.S. North Carolina, KLINGONOPS
Shackelford awoke in a darkened room to the computerized sound of his own heartbeat. It took him several minutes just to determine that he was even awake. He felt sluggish, mentally and physically. There was a nagging, dull ache almost everywhere.
“Captain, you’re awake!” The lights in the room came to life in conjunction with an unrecognizable voice. Shackelford had to close his eyes almost immediately, the brightness was so intense. “You gave us quite a scare.” He could feel a dull pressure against his neck suddenly, and a slight hiss of air – and he almost instantly felt slightly euphoric. The cobwebs littering his mind started to clear some as well, and he opened his eyes to see a gorgeous redhead smiling over him.
He went to say something charming, or witty, but found he could hardly open his mouth. It was dry as a bone.
The woman leaned over a console, and Shackelford felt his bed start to incline slightly. The next thing he knew, she was shoving a straw in his mouth, and he was able to gulp down what tasted like the best water he had ever had in his life. Then, without a word, she was gone.
Two men entered the room, one of which he vaguely recognized by the goofy grin on his face. The other was unfamiliar, but spoke first. “We’re glad to have you with us. I’d like to ask you a few questions, if I may.”
“Bring the redhead back,” Shackelford weakly sputtered.
GoofyGrin suppressed a laugh, finding a seat; while QuestionMan began waving some device over him. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Thor, Lord of all I survey.”
QuestionMan made a puzzled expression, but continued undaunted. “Do you know where you are?”
“If I had to guess, seeing as I was certainly unconscious when I arrived, I’d have to say at the very least the 6th circle of Medical Hell.”
At this point QuestionMan turned to GoofyGrin. “His readings are coming through in good shape; albeit somewhat weak, but his answers indicate possible brain damage.”
GoofyGrin belted out laughing at that point. “He was brain damaged prior to this, Commander. I think he’s fine. Quite well, in fact. Captain Shack’s use of sarcasm is... something you’ll have to get used to. Make your medical entry and give us a few moments, will you?”
“Very well, sir.” QuestionMan vanished into thin air.
GoofyGrin stood up. “Shack, take it easy on my EMH, would ya? He doesn’t understand humor.”
Shackelford furrowed his brow, turning his head slightly to stare GoofyGrin in the eyes. “Captain Huckabee… We meet again.”
*******
It had been two days since he’d come to on board the North Carolina, and Shackelford would normally have been incredibly happy to be back in his own ready room, except that it seemed the universe had gone to complete shit in his absence.
He had viewed the various combat reports, particularly concerning his own rescue. The North Carolina had apparently saved his ass, something he would likely never live down. But that didn’t bother him as much as the intel reports concerning Defera. Massive invasion forces were at their doorstep. The combat he had been involved in was nothing but a recon in force.
The entire Fleet was being mobilized to deflect the Borg attack on Defera. Things were going to get very ugly in a hurry.
Last but not least, there was the small matter of the Fleet Admiral. While he had been laid up, Command had received another message from the Tico:
The Tico and her crew had held on for days, longer than he would have thought possible. And right now, the Fleet couldn’t spare one ship to seek her out. The Borg were giving no one any chances.
((Participants will have one week after the 5/4/12 event in which to make a post about their activities repelling the Borg on Defera, and then Phase 3 will be closed.))
After saving Captain Shackelford and his crew on Defera, Huckabee and the North Carolina were heading back to the Sol System once again.
After his efforts in sliding past the Borg and responding to the distress call of the Valley Forge, the 7th Fleet command decided Huckabee was too much of an asset to the war on the Borg. He was demoted back to Fleet Captain and handed the responsibility of Fleet Operations. Not the he minded one bit, he never really had his goals set on a white collar. Anything he could do that kept him in his chair on a ship was fine with him.
The North Carolina though didn't escape Defera without some scars though. Emergency power was diverted the engines the whole trip back to Sol just to get her there. All weapons but both her heavy cannons were destroyed. After ESD's engineers got done looking over the damage, it was decided that she was to be decommissioned and used for parts to fix Defiants in dock that had lesser damage.
Starfleet informed Huckabee though he would be given command of a Sao Paulo class. He had heard that the class was nothing more then a sleeker, meaner Defiant. He was told the ship he would be given was the U.S.S. Minotaur. He tried to get command to let him re-name it to the North Carolina, but they wouldn't have it. All Starfleet would tell him was they had other ideas for the name. He had to admit to himself though, Minotaur fit the description of the reputation he was earning.
The worst part of all news he received though was that the 7th was going to be launching an assault on Defera, an assault he was not going to be part of. Even though he had become one of the best at dealing with the Borg, he had been ordered to give his crew the leave they needed. However the Valley Forge would be coming off their leave, so they had no choice but to go with the assault force. Seeing as Captain Shackelford himself was an expert on the Borg, he was given command of the forces for the operations.
At the thought of that Huckabee just smiled in his new ready room aboard the Minotaur. He chuckled to himself "Serves that bastard right.....Goofygrin that."
“Lieutenant Commander.”, the com system called out. LtCmdr Hammond looked up from the stack of PADDs with weary eyes. “Go ahead.” He replied. “Sir, we have a communication from 7Th Fleet HQ. Intel shows that a large Borg incursion force is en route to the Defari system. Estimates show that they will arrive within the week if they maintain their current course and speed.”, responded a very young sounding Ensign.
LtCmdr Hammond looked down at the PADDs piled upon his workstation. Each PADD contained a damage report on the USS Walking Dead. The ship and crew had been heavily involved in repelling the recent Borg invasions of the Vorn and Sibirian sectors. He tapped his combadge. “Lt B’Ahl, how much longer until repairs complete?” he asked his Chief Engineer. “Sir, it will be at least another 3 weeks until we have enough neutronium hull plating replicated to patch all the hull damage. Not to mention the interior damage done to decks 5 and 6. We’ll never get the burnt tribble smell out of the Jeffries tubes.”, came the reply. LtCmdr Hammond mulled it over in his mind. The ship and crew were in bad shape. Constant battle had strained all of the ships major systems to their breaking points. The ship had taken a serious blow when the last tactical cubes’ warp core went critical at the exact same instant the ships starboard shields failed. This had caused serious damage to the starboard side, resulting in multiple hull breaches and fires on decks 5 and 6. Thankfully, the well trained crew were all at their battle stations and no one was critically injured or lost to the vacuum of space. It was later discovered that the structural integrity fields in those sections had also failed. But LtCmdr Hammond had a feeling that the “Lucky” 7th was going to need the Walking Dead’s heavy armament and battle hardened crew.
He knew he had a hard choice to make, but promised himself that he would give his crew a month’s leave on Risa when this was all over. “Lt B’Ahl, restructure the duty roster and contact Utopia Planetia fleet yards. Put in a request for additional maintenance support. I want maintenance crews working around the clock!” he said.
Fleet Captain Talbot looked up at the chronometer and marked the time on the shuttles navigational panel. He would be arriving at his new ship, the U.S.S. Rubin James, a Sao Paulo Tactical Escort Refit , which has been refitted with BORG Tech, in under ten minuets. He was looking over the specs of the ship to finish familiarizing himself with it. It definitely was not like his last ship, the U.S.S. Challenger, a Fleet Escort. Talbot was used to using BORG Tech, he was one of the first captains in Starfleet to have tried it on a vessel, and had mixed reviews about it. But that was his concern now.
The main concern was getting the James out of space dock and headed to the mission objective. Three hours earlier, in his quarters at Starfleet Academy, he had received a communique from 7th Fleet command that detailed the situation on Defera homeworld, and had instantly canceled the crews shore leave and ordered them to the new ship. They had just completed workups on her before being granted liberty 48 hours earlier, so he knew the ship and her crew were ready.
The comm panel chirped. "This is space dock control to shuttle pod 8, come in please." Talbot tapped the panel, and replied "go ahead control, this is shuttle pod 8".
"Fleet Captain Talbot, you are cleared to dock with the Rubin James."
"Copy that".
Talbot input the command into the shuttle controls and prepared to set out with his ship and crew to defend the Defera homeworld from the BORG.
After receiving orders of the massive 7th push on the Borg on the Defera homeworld, Commander Ryo Himura pushed his recovery from the injuries he sustained fighting the Borg in the Vega Colony further down on his priority list.
"Thryiss, any estimates on when the ship will be repaired?" Being hold up on Earth for his medical treatments and some much needed leave, Commander Himura hadn't been in contact for a few days.
Being one of the new flagships of the Federation, it went into battle too quickly and sustained some damage, no deaths from the crew due to their training but damage to the new tech installed on the ship.
"Yessir, it will take at least another 5 days for all the major systems and equipment." Thryiss replied via combadge.
Commander Himura then told Thryiss the details of the mission and after a bit of concerning arguement over his injuries he told her that it wasn't important right now. She stated then, "Well sir, since you put it that way, we could have all major systems repaired in 2 days if we push the crew and repair the minor systems and weapons enroute." Commander Himura then gave a brief speech to the crew telling how important this mission was and the crew agreed...(on a very long shore leave after the mission!) In 2 days time the repairs were completed as promised after grueling labor by the ship's crew.
Once Commander Himura took his place in his Captain's Chair they launched the U.S.S. "Eternal" Salvation on a course to the Defera System.
Estimated Time of Arrival to the Defera Homeworld: 3 days, 22:00 hours
//PRIORITY URGENT
MSGID TACOPS
STARDATE 2412.0503
TO HEADQUARTERS 7TH FLEET
FR HEADQUARTERS STARFLEET COMMAND
SUBJ COMMAND ASSIGNMENT ICO USS IWO JIMA
1. Effective immediately, Lieutenant Commander Justin “Evildead” Hammond has been assigned command of U.S.S. Iwo Jima NCC-91945. Furthermore, LtCmdr Hammond is directed to proceed at best possible speed to the planet Defera, in the Deferi sector.
2. LtCmdr Hammond is assigned overall command authority of the 31st MACO Expeditionary Unit (MEU). The 31st MEU contains elements of the following units:
a. Starfleet MACO Attack Squadron 213 (SMA-213) – Commanded by Lieutenant Gregory
b. Starfleet MACO Attack Squadron 113 (SMA-114) – Commanded by Lieutenant Krillin
c. 3rd MACO Battalion – Commanded by Lieutenant Johnson
d. 13th Headquarters and Maintenance Squadron – Commanded by Lieutenant Kaffee
END MSG//
LtCmdr Hammond savored the aroma of his coffee while sitting on the bridge of the USS Iwo Jima. “Sir, we are 2 minutes out from Defera orbit”, Ensign Mirra said. “Very well.” he replied setting down his coffee. “Go to red alert, all hands to battle stations!” he ordered.
As the Iwo Jima dropped out of warp Peregrine and Caitain fighters began launching from her hangar decks. Orbiting the planet was the bulk of the 7th Fleet. Surprisingly, there were no Borg vessels in visual or sensor range.
Back on the bridge, Mirra stated “Sir, you have an incoming hail from Admiral Shackelford.” “Put it onscreen.” Hammond replied. The dirt smeared image of a human could almost be mistaken for LtCmdr Hammond appeared on the view screen. He was wearing Omega Force battle gear and the image of a war torn base camp was seen behind him. “Evildead! Good to see you made it to the party!” the Admiral said. “Well it was either this or Dancing with the Stars reruns on the holodeck, so I said ‘what the hell! Let’s shoot some Borg! So whats the situation Admiral?” Evildead asked.
“We’ve set up our staging area on the edge of the capital city. So far the Borg have only committed ground forces for some damn reason. The first few cubes beamed in some drones, equipment and some wicked looking structure in the middle of the city. Since then, they have managed to set up some sort of transporter or gateway system. The 7th has setup a blockade around the planet to prevent any further ship based reinforcements, but it seems they no longer need orbital resupplies. We’re trying to keep our footprint light at the moment, meet us down here in base camp and have your MACO teams on standby.” The Admiral replied.
After the usual fuzzy, slightly nauseating feeling I usually felt whenever using the transporter, I materialized in the middle of the Defera base camp. Huddled around a master display screen in the center of the camp were most of the 7th Fleet Captains. Admiral Shackelford was standing in the center briefing everyone on the plan of attack. “We’re going to break up into teams of 5, our Deferi liaisons are going to brief us on the situations for their respective areas of responsibility. Our main areas of concern are protecting the Deferi citizens in the city, repelling the Borg incursion at the power plant to restore power, and investigate why these bastards are so interested in the temple ruins. Fleet Captains will be setting up their team assignments shortly. My team will consist of Zousz, “Mr Hau”, Anton Mercer, and Evildead. Our main focus will be protecting the civilians in the city. Godspeed gentlemen, let’s send these godless bastards back to the Delta Quadrant where they belong!”
Our team descended the hill leading up to the edge of the city. The smell of ionized air from phaser and disruptor fire was almost overwhelming. We rounded the first building and saw how tenuous the situation really was. Borg drones were everywhere, the cities self defense turrets were covered in drones attempting to assimilate them.
Deferi engineers ran up to us, “We need your help! We have to get those turrets remodulated before the Borg bypass the shields and turn them against us!”, one of the engineers said. Our team pushed into the city with the engineers in tow. The drones on the edge of the city were low level cannon fodder against our teams Mark XI and XII weapons. We pushed the offensive from turret to turret, getting them all remodulated and back online. The Borg had yet to present a significant response to our tactics. As we pushed farther into the city we came upon drones pulling civilians out of their homes and injecting them with nanoprobes. We formed our battle line and opened fire. Our shots slammed harmlessly into green Borg shields. “Shit! Remodulate!” Admiral Shackelford called out. At that instant, Borg tactical drones beamed in behind us. I turned and tossed a smoke grenade followed by a photon grenade. The photon grenade downed the lead drone while the smoke obscured us from the others. We retreated down an alleyway to buy ourselves time to adjust our weapons.
We emerged from the alley into a large assimilated area. Partially and newly assimilated Deferi citizens were located in the center set of Borg alcoves. We had stumbled into the Borg’s city assimilation “factory”. Regular Borg drone alcoves filled with resting drones outlined the outer walls. At the end of the center alcove was a borg computer node. “Zousz, see what you can get out of that node, the rest of us will tag these people for beam out.” Admiral Shackelford ordered.
As Zousz began scanning the node, all of the resting drones housed in the outer alcoves stepped forward and leveled their plasma weapons at us. I tossed a photon grenade into the closest alcove housing fully assimilated drones. As the explosion consumed them I rolled behind the nearest cover. Our team had only managed to beam out half of the Deferi so far. Anton Mercer had covered the right flank, so I continued to pour antiprotons into the drones coming from our left flank.
After what seemed to be an eternity I heard the Admiral call out “That’s the last one! Regroup on Zousz!” We all pulled back to form a perimeter on Zousz. “I’ve got it!” Zousz proclaimed as he pulled an isolinear data rod out of the node. At that instant, an Elite Tactical Drone materialized in the center of our perimeter. I turned to open fire, but was sent flying through the air after being backhanded. As I hit the ground hard, my head was swimming in and out of consciousness. I opened my eyes and saw that Anton was down. I tried to reach for my weapon but couldn’t move. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. The remaining team members were pouring fire into the elite tac’s green shields. As darkness crept into my vision I heard the Admiral call out, “Valley Forge! Five to beam out!” As everything went dark I began to feel fuzzy and nauseous.
High Above the city, ionized molecules ripped through the sky as phaser beams lanced down from orbit. The beams struck the ground vaporizing the assimilation “factory”. The drones moving through the city dematerialized in a green shimmer simultaneously as there was no longer an use for them in the city. They were needed elsewhere….
Admiral, there's a subspace message, priority one, eyes-only to you from Fleet Captain Shackelford. Commander Bitoer's voice sounded after the initial comm "chirrup."
Glancing up from the neverending "paperwork" of captaining his own starship, as well as being the Chief of Staff for the "Lucky" 7th, he wondered what had Shack riled. Priority ones from him were fairly rare.
"Put it through to my ready room console, Commander."
Aye, sir.
The Starfleet logo appeared with its usual advisements about the priority, prompting Bor'annus for his passcode. After acknowledging he'd given the proper verbal code, it dissolved to show the familiar visage of Morgan Shackelford, one of the 7th's most dependable, capable and under-decorated captains. His hair was disheveled, with smoke and various sorts of energy weapon discharges and explosions could be heard in the background.
Admiral, this will be brief out of necessity. The Borg have established a beachhead on Defera, and we need every gun we can get out here. We need them yesterday, as the saying goes. Get who you can and have them report to me at the base camp that's been established. Shackelford out.
"Damn the bureaucracy," he said out loud. Even for something as important as this, he just couldn't go in person - not this time. Calling up a roster of fleet personnel, he selected several names and sent them to Commander Bitoer's console.
"Commander Bitoer, you've just received several names on your console. Direct them to Defera, priority one, no excuses except the universe coming to an end."
Affirmative, sir.
"Thank you." He killed the comm and went over to one of the small storage areas in the ready room; he pulled out an intricately detailed crystal bottle filled with Andorian ale. Removing the crystal stopper, he poured himself a couple fingers into a glass. Walking over to the thin, vertical view window, and took measured sips of the potent liquor as the stars streamed by.
Bridge of the USS Valhalla.
"Captain Zousz, priority message coming in from the Cohort, Admiral p'Rett's ship." Nen, her Breen First Officer, reported.
The Benzite female nodded her head once, slowly. "On screen."
A female Bajoran with dark hair in a semi-bob cut appeared on the viewscreen.
"Captain Zousz, I'm Commander Bitoer of the USS Cohort, passing on a directive from Rear Admiral p'Rett. You are directed to proceed directly to Defera to reinforce Starfleet and KDF forces fighting off a Borg ground offensive. You are to rendezvous with Fleet Captain Shackelford at the base camp located at the following coordinates." Numbers flashed into the Valhalla's helm console.
"He needs you there yesterday - direct quote. Good luck, Captain."
Her visage was replaced by the starts streaming by outside the Excelsior retrofit's hull.
"Yellow alert, maximum warp to...belay that - transwarp to the Beta Ursae sector block. We'll make best speed from there."
Her bridge crew stood to as they'd been ordered, and within a relatively short span of time, the Valhalla established a standard orbit around Defera.
Zousz was already in Transporter Room 3, in her combat gear. Nen had followed her down, though he'd kept silent. She stepped on to the transport pad, and Nen's helmet speaker activated in preparation for him speaking. Zousz held up a hand, interrupting him before he got a chance to speak.
"I know, I know, captain is supposed to stay with the ship. The Admiral and Fleet Captain are counting on me."
"I was simply going to say to be careful and come back safe, Captain. You do this ship and crew honor."
She allowed herself a smile. "Thank you, Nen. You're in command until I get back; try not to scratch the ship." To the transporter chief, she said, "Energize" and nodded once.
Surface of Defera, Starfleet base camp
Re-materializing at the coordinates provided, Zousz quickly took in the sights and sounds. Continuous transporter beam whines, energy weapon discharges and explosions in the distance. The acrid stench of various materials - including different sorts of flesh - burning quickly filled her nostrils.
Striding up to Shackelford, she nodded - the equivalent of a field salute. "You find the most interesting places, Fleet Captain. Captain Zousz, of the Valhalla, here at the direction of Admiral p'Rett. Ready when you are."
She would later have difficulty remembering specifics of the fights she was involved in. Wave after wave of cyborged humanoids, her weapons firing as quickly as they could recharge and remodulate - and calling down support turrets as quickly as they could be made ready from the armory of the Valhalla. In the end, there were thousands and thousands of Borg corpses, as well as some Defera they'd managed to rescue. It was the first time she'd come close to understanding the concept of the Human "Hell."
Last edited by VADM pRett on 05/08/12 10:34; edited 1 time in total
Captain Mavendorf moved through the Deferra countryside several dozen meterss behind Admiral Shackleford and Caption Maercer, her antiproton sniper rifle held at the ready. Captain Sousz, LtCDR Hammond and Captain Hau were moving in formation as well.
The group rounded a corner and an assimilated Gorn came into view. It roared a challenge. Cleo's borg implants flashed data about its augments and a translation of it's challenge onto her right retina. The group opened fire, doing some damage as it advanced. Cleo knelt and brought her weapon to her shoulder, taking aim at the massive creature's left shoulder joint as her implants flashed a schematic of the Gorn's weak points onto her retina.
A ruby beam flashed from her weapon, impacting the Gorn directly on it's left shoulder, destroying the primary processor and disabling it's implants. It roared in pain and confusion as it lost power to it's borg augments...as well as it's link to the Collective. Cleo heard the whispers of orders from the Collective in her mind...paying them no mind aside from a slight smirk that betrayed her pleasure at depriving the Collective of yet another powerful slave.
She shifted her aim to the Gorn's right knee and fired again, hobbling it, and allowing the rest of the team to finish it off easily.
As the team regrouped and continued to move, Cleo noted that Hau and Mercer continued to cast occasional glances back at her. Her face remained impassive as was it's normal now. She understood...her return from Borg control was recent enough that her flee tmates still wondered if she was to be trusted in close proximity to them...better she assumed that was the case than that they pitied her for her ordeal.
A new group of borg appeared and her internal musings shut off as her rifle came up and she began targeting specific points on each drone...always shooting to disable critical systems..her motions sure and precise...her mind clear and focused. She found a moment between shots to wonder: Did the borg realize what kind of a weapon they had created for Starfleet to use against them when they had taken her?
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