IBEX- part 1

Posted on Sat 18th May, 2024 @ 6:33pm by Commander Geraldine "Geri" Severide

1,938 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: O' the Cardiff Rose

{IBEX- Chalnoth subjugate “Eranus” System}

“Mission Report Captain Alexander Richardson. “Rootball” is a success. Orion, Chalnoth, Nausicaan raiding parties will be affected all over the Quadrant. Orions aren’t sticking around. Unfortunately, New Sydney is still a red zone here, we will need to make sure to return, disable these slave markets. Blinds in place, agents primed, NX Cumberland will be taking over martial control at next rotation. Special commendation for Duke and Merrick, those two got in and out without a trace, under truly challenging circumstances. Our collateral is zero-“

Transmission Error

-Log Ended-




“Batten Down”

{IBEX - Maintenance access Forward Deflector control.}

Svelt inky black reaches of outer space yawned to eternity, dotted with glistening points of radiance. A slithering ripple, a shape which was invisible whose motion only revealed the barest edges of perception, saw the shimmer slide as a midnight black suede polishes fine ebony. For the moment between moments which exists in time of peril, this peaceful illusion provided no further protections. With one sudden violent jolt the delicately maintained stealth systems had been pierced. Suddenly shimmering into plain view, the prominence of the vessel bearing only a single name, “IBEX” appeared for a moment before systems restored themselves and its slid back into obscurity.

Their pursuers had taken to a formation firing heavy ammunition ahead of them to dial in their location. With a victorious shudder, the solitary saucer and solo nacelle of a Saladin class light survey vessel materialized in a ripple. Shields formed a gossamer protective bubble but the onslaught saw intense shots landing on bare hull. Small splashes of energized plasma dotted their hull armor, darkening the forward deflector dish. The comforting blue glow faded quickly as the particles were drained to maintain shields.

Holographic panels and twin deflector dishes enabled the silent running, but when explosions bracketed the not so empty space, the delicate components took catastrophic damage. The ejecta from the shells spread in a cloud tearing into the sensitive panels and robbing them of their concealment. Particles coated their hull where the debris didnt damage it outright. Such munitions implied these raiders were ready for the hunt of cloaked vessels, but the IBEX wasn’t just cloaked, the ship was made to be invisible in every way.

Someone had given them up, and shined a light right on them to be found. Now, deep in the primary deflector control Captain Richardson held to a ladder for dear life as the evasive maneuvers exceeded the internal dampening by a margin. A human pilot would feel it and respond but their autopilot had but one concern, escape. So the ride was definitely wild, Alex had to call out before he was flung into a wall.

After regaining a grip, he yelled out “Status report Reggie, and you nearly flung me into space on that one!”

A disembodied voice grimly announced, “We have identified three vessels, Two H’kll Chalnoth raiders and a Fpyod class Orion Heavy Escort. Chief Dralir is in command deck performing defensive measures. Aft shields are resiliently strong at 82%, Mitigations and Evasive has kept us alive, though I cannot slow them down. Hull breaches on 2-Delta and 3-Beta. Main power to Deflector must be restored or forward shields will remain compromised.”

Rolling his eyes at the report Alex returned to his work in the Jeffries shaft, “Yeah Reggie I’m working on it. Spare a hand?”

”I am at my capacity with boarding counter protocol. StraMash is in the Solar Array restoring weapons.”

It was a somber realization, the enemy was tearing at the gate. The fear lead to resolve with the command classic training, the path was simple in his mind. The lessons from Colonel Wesscot, famed tactician of the Romulan wars, echoed in Alex’s mind.

”Rarely is there an impossible situation, it can seem that way but once you’re inside the situation, you are a part of it and can change it, what seems impossible, can become possible by your actions…”

Working to repair the damage was slow going, but nothing was more important. His thoughts raced ahead… the mission was accomplished, it was time to be gone, and make as little a memory of it as possible. Their mandate was secrecy, stealth, to act without being asked and leave no trace whatsoever. Modifications to a then current now ancient Starfleet vessel created a new scout vessel entirely disguised its origins. She had shields like a Starbase, but with half of the deflector array unpowered thanks to a wayward depth charge their front half was practically exposed, if they lost the foot race while forward defenses were down it was over. Time was short before the overextended secondary grid failed to provide adequate coverage as well.

“Keep us moving, activate Makoto.”

”Duke is in play, Makoto has already left the command deck, whereabouts unknown.”

Alex smiled to himself, Duke and Makoto was not a pair you wanted as an enemy, that they had gone dark was a sign of how imminent to terrible close quarters combat they were. He also didnt like that Makoto activated herself, she had allowances for her gifts to be used under lock and key. Self-determination was dangerous for an Angosian who could likely kill in a single strike. Given their peril, he hoped her goal was the preservation of the IBEX and her mission. It could just as easily be a goal of “winning” against the waves of boarders.

The agent they had bribed who gave them the codes to get here had warned them of the Chalnoth propensity for pursuit, that if they were caught it would mean an instant vendetta with the Orions and a bounty that would bring hordes of fearsome warriors pouring after them. The Chalnoth didnt employ or appreciate stealth, attacking any threat with great prejudice. Now a warship with fighter complements and two destroyers in escort were deployed against them, with more on the way.

The clever crew of the IBEX had almost escaped without detection, but a betrayal couldn’t be as readily planned for. Now they were venting atmospheric gas and plasma, many of the systems in critical damage and the crew preparing to repel boarders the moment shields dropped below sixty. Such a turn of fortune in such a short time was unthinkable but here it was, five minutes had changed them from jubilation to grim dark dread.

Three warships were beyond any mention of defeating, and to boot there was a warship among them truly meant for slugging it out and able to take their best shots. Their ships were primitive by age and design but upgraded with stolen technology and knowledgeable slaves working their machines. A scavenger species like both Orions and Chalnoth had a tendency towards set out to reverse engineer and field test innovations. The racks of torpedoes and hundreds of troops frothing at the mouth for combat ready to issue a penance was more than sufficient to close the technology gap.

The IBEX had its claws alright, but she was an ambush predator. And right now they were all but caught, wounded and running.

His sense of peril was beginning to make the delicate work of repairing blown out circuits a special hell of tedium. Seconds felt like minutes as he painstakingly reset burnt lines and stitched sundered pathways into trashed mechanics trying to achieve signs of life. He remembered Reggie saying the Chief was on the bridge, and wished they could swap out. His gifts were in tactical and reconnaissance protocols.

Motion to his peripheral vision alerted him to the friendly buzz of the Vertimotor EKom DOT, a robotic football shaped assistant with arms which had brought him a replacement manifold, bypassing the need for repair altogether. “Slapdash” as it was named, for the sometimes ungainly modular proportions its variable chassis could mount and power had little else to do, the other three Vertimotors had combat related functions. Slapdash was essentially a portable power bank with universal input capacity.

Alex laughed heartily, relieved beyond measure at the friendly bot, ”You saved the day SlapDash, Assist your brother in Weapons go!”

The Oblate Spheroid had attached appendages, NaniSynthetic bio-metals could change as needed, and were presently in a octopus configuration. All four had gone to carry the manifold and once they were no longer needed, they became flush to the smooth body with its belt of ports. It chirped in friendly reply to a text message sending to Alex’s retinal displays.

<{Acknowledged, be well Captain!}>

Another rocking of the ship sounded an accurate detonation near them. Sparing a look at his information feed returned a sense of dread. The wedge shaped triangle vessels lacked any notion of aesthetics, bolted additions and jury-rigged weapons dotted the marred carbon scored ships. The predator in the lead was faster and gaining on them, taking pot shots and doing damage, a wolf nipping at heels. Alex set to his work and got the EPS grid restored to 1-Alpha in a moment of dedicated assembly.

{IBEX-Command Deck Platform}

The Command Deck was the central most portion of their semicircular vessel of three decks. Two Beta was it’s designation, indicating the mid ships and central deck of the three was their command bunker. The room was a hard point for everything up to a warp core breach. A Central raised mound and a valley path between them made a platform arrayed in a circle of displays and holographic information readouts. In a pinch the whole deck could collapse into a shockingly resilient armored bunker for the people inside the Command deck.

Sparks flew from older than average EPS lines overdue for service. A direct hull impact transferred raw power into the frame blowing out safety circuits, a glance to her Master systems display revealed the culprits highlighted in orange. Another like that would blow the panels out in her face, so she set auto-repairs to the safeties with one hand while swiping the air for holo gestures to change her readouts.

Their pursuers were still behind them but gaining, she tried to make a plan but her skills were Engineering, and administration. It occurred to her this was the Captain's job, and he was doing hers. The swap was not amusing at all, she was beginning to become overwhelmed at the dwindling options. She reasoned that weapons were knocked out, but considered a few other tactical options were still on the board. In the middle of chirps, beeps and gashing flames a single figure was left to rotate like a flywheel taking in all of the information around her.

She proclaimed to the ships ears hoping the ship listened, “Rerouting power through auxiliary manifolds in C-deck, shields… ummm fore shields compromised, aft shields…. Newly reinforced… and internal measures are back! Reggie reclaim that ground. EPS capacity diminished there’s a leak… nope you got it Kit! Good Work. EPS restored for C Deck, Deflector still offline, Hell at least there’s light. Duke, you got control again, happy hunting.”

The tall Denobulan stood center of a large dais where multiple systems panels relayed a dearth of information. She was older, middle aged for a Denobulan but “wizened” by Human standards. She stood tall but held an iron grip on the railing of the raised command deck. Sleeveless, in combat skin tightly fitting and knife resistant, streaks of chrome black with matte patches of extra armor on vital areas.

“Why the hell arent these ships disabled?” Their plan had tainted the fuel supply for the entire fleet of raiders. How had these three escaped that fate?

TBC…

 

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