IBEX part 4

Posted on Wed 22nd May, 2024 @ 12:20am by Commander Geraldine "Geri" Severide
Edited on on Tue 4th Jun, 2024 @ 12:51am

2,002 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: O' the Cardiff Rose
Location: The Triangle
Timeline: MD10

Previously… https://sb109.sim-station.net/index.php/sim/viewpost/2320

And Now…

{IBEX- Engineering suites}

When it started, Duke had ducked into his side 'office,' a hidden room tucked into the wall that he used to modify and tinker. He grabbed all of the weapons currently on the rack, most of them test models or souped-up projects he was experimenting with. The others weren’t for a blaze of glory, but the other crew. They had been hit so suddenly he knew the majority hadn’t been able to get to the armory. Stealth let him take out most of his enemies, the ones who survived the scattering field lasted only seconds before the blood-slicked daggers silently worked. To have weapons only enhanced his profile now.

Moving in the recessed catwalk built for these purposes, his first target had no chance. He tried one with an extra battery rigged in. The solitary boarder was slinking down a corridor, unaware of the inverted head descending from the ceiling tiles taking aim. Despite the reflective armor the Chalnoth wore, the pulsed beam was pretty effective. As he had hoped, extra power and refined tuning burned a hole straight through thick plate armor. The downside was the battery had drained from unbalanced power output not properly regulated. Duke made mental notes, tossed it so the remaining power could make a mild grenade out of the discarded handgun. From the satchel he grabbed a second large-barreled pistol with large embouchure. More of a tactical weapon, the handheld short-range transporter was based on the stealth TS-415, and TR-116, it teleported compressed pockets of noxious gas exactly twenty feet ahead.

Finding another darkened corridor under duress, Duke made aim. Firing down the corridors saw a pop of gas blind two men, and the chemical mist splashed over all of them. The mist wasn’t so debilitating as it was irritating, however. Duke found the effect was a net positive and added to his mental notes for adjustments. The two armored men, Chalnoth as so many others had been, didn't stop their charge. Despite the rapid deterioration of their soft tissues, most of their armor was able to tolerate it as well as thick hide. He hit them with another, but after exposure from previous rounds the effect was ineffective. Duke reached for another; he had no idea which one he even had at that moment as he gripped the unfamiliar handle.

Too late, he lamented when they grabbed him.

Duke wrestled a bit without luck, their strength was formidable, but thankfully, he knew how to twist people to get them off. He gained a second to react and shot at as close a range as he could. Instantly, the energy deflected all over, armor on the soldier reflecting to unarmored skin. The blind Chalnoth on top of him collapsed, but he felt an intense burning in his exposed wrist and forearm. No time now… He could do without a hand if it came to that. Duke didn't even look, peripheral sense detected the oncoming form running at him... so he tossed the dead one at the other blind one before taking off in a run. A rifle at his shoulder, the pulsed beams fired ahead of him, trying to clear the way.

The bulkheads flew open under the assault, revealing four other boarders on the other side. They hadn’t spotted him yet, so Duke placed a cloaked mine and yelled as loudly as he could, making a few turn around to look. He shot at their faces and their hands with mild effect; their personal shields still absorbing impact. He was caught between two groups, and they knew it. Duke found cover as they triggered the mine.

”Well, my day just got better…” the grizzly man stood from his cover, a halfway torn door ripped from the bulkheads. Seven dead Chalnoth dotted the area. Charnel reeked and the deck itself bowed into the lower portions of the ship. His mine had done very well, A buzz came over his skull comm, the vibrating tech allowing sub-audible communications.

Makoto asked in the oddly silent way via buzzing wires on his skull, “Duke, we can't blow holes in the ship more than they are.”

He replied, “I’m at nine, how 'bout you?”

A moment of silence and the monotone voice of dread replied, “Seventeen.”

”Bullshit.”

”Airlock.”

Duke smiled. Makoto was by far the most deadly of their number, but she was averse to directly using her hands for the gifts they had. She preferred traps, tactics, ploys to misdirect and make them fight each other. When that failed she could take a baseball bat and go to town any time she wanted. She just didn't want to. That team had likely been lead via holo-misdirect to an airlock and activated themselves by design. A classy solution to the pseudo-pacifist. His scans showed Merrick in the armory, and he sent the handshake to make sure Merrick saw him.

He blazed past the last Chalnoth in the way to the armory, trusting Merrick to cover his movement. Overhead fire did the job nicely as he scuttled into cover with them. unrolling the satchel, he dropped the phasers between the defenders and started shooting. Most of them did something within expectations, wide fields, long-range scanning; counter shielding programming was very useful. Then one of his experiments overloaded and found itself employed as a grenade. Another of the boarding party disappeared in a hole in the floor. A sharp pain reminded him, and Duke could see his hand was still attached. It was burned and bleeding, but it was there. Starfleet doctors could fix anything, he reasoned and returned to his work.

Merrick had taken to firing from the doorway of the armory itself, a scattering of devices and parts at his feet. New boarders firing in gave Duke no time to wonder what Merrick was doing when he disappeared into the back. Duke's firepower had taken their defense to a stable measure, and the man always had something planned.

Fortunately, Grazia was right next to him, "Watch out for these!" he said to her. She looked at him with alarm. The explosions had taken their toll, he was probably speaking too loudly, so he tried a more reasonable tone. "They're untested from my shop!"

Fortunately, they were all point-and-shoot or shoot-and-toss, if things went wrong. Grazia had run weapons for years and knew a cobbled assembly when she saw one.

”Understood; no manual to read.” She selected a compression phaser, analyzing the power cells and inspecting the work. The rifle was well built, only good for twenty shots at most, given the Dysonium cells. Knowing Duke had made the machine allowed Grazia to estimate at least twenty-five shots. She motioned with a thumbs-up to Duke to acknowledge her return to the line and fired blindly at movement, striking a creeping Chalnoth in the top of his head behind cover.

Duke laughed at her prowess; she was no liability. He called into the armory, "Merrick? Do you have a plan?" When Merrick didn't immediately return from the other room he trusted it was fro a good reason. He didn't want to hear the plan; Merrick always had something crazy in mind. Duke just wanted to know there was one. "Kolor, are you in there? We could really use a hand."

It made sense the Cardassian would be in there too; there had to be some way of rallying who was left to retake the hold below the main deck. Kolor came into view around the corner of the interior of the armory. He was holding a few transporter inhibitors, which was a place to start. With a grin he showed the one used so far to keep them safe.

“I’ve modified the device, to utterly destroy incoming signals but only after pattern lock.” Duke realized that’s why the boarding parties were in teams of random small numbers, there was no telling how many Chalnoth had beamed into this trap only to be scattered by their atoms across space.

Duke admired and feared the man for this, ”Kolor, damn. That’s…”

”Efficient. Thank you.”

**
{Engineering}

Her work at a finish, with a satisfying thud of the cargo container's seal slamming closed, Chief Dralir sent the charges on their way without hesitation.

“Reggie, Package away!” she screamed over a tumult of exchanging gases and moving mechanical apertures.

Bare hull breach exposed the void black all around them. The illusion of airtight security was lost, and her exposure was a paramount concern walking in her consciousness. She counted the seconds and braced, knowing there was no time to make for better cover. Lights flashing announced the particle wash had hit their rear deflectors, but their forward progress wouldn't affect them at all.

Behind them, the warship had taken a shot to the nose that knocked it ass over tea kettle. The greasy particle smear of the deterrent left behind collapsed all three of their warp fields. Plasma fire coated their hulls as the crews desperately restored propulsion to move away. The tactic wouldn’t do more than wound, but it was the time they needed to recover stealth and make distance.

She wished she had other things to shoot at them but other priorities announced themselves with klaxons. The EV belt was the only thing keeping her from space and the thought that she could fall in was terrifying.

She called to the comm, "Their shield emitters are down, I don’t have weapons!"

“Can you do anything?" she asked the space all around her, knowing Reggie would listen. Her call went out to everyone, though. The list wasn’t long, as far as tactical options the ship wasn’t meant for fighting, it was a sniper. Their deadliest weapons were still devices requiring power and launchers. Both were unavailable to their demands.

“Tactical options are forthcoming, just keep us moving, they’ve fallen behind.” Her ears took in a voice but no form was seen. Reggie could speak out of thin air if needed.

“Acknowledged. We have to hit them while they are vulnerable. Come on, we've got to have something!” She had no computers down here, and there were multiple breaches forcing containment fields to patch the hull. This was not only a drain on power but a diversion of resources away from the engine and repairs. This was just an empty room that once had held the old, unused shuttle pod and only recently had been fitted with the self-destruct charges because of its location.

”Give me a moment to clear, then drop containment on shuttle bay. Nothing here we need.”

Dralir started up a ladder, trying to get anywhere she could help.

="Where’s Alex, damn it? Reggie, what do you need me to do, triage me?" She called over the comm again.

It wasn't lost on her how bad she was as a commander. There was a reason she had never gone into command. She wasn't a coordinator of war or tactical prowess but she could handle all the engineering disasters in the world. She was useful in combat, but trying to coordinate others was beyond her native abilities. Her mind worked one way, and she had to trust it would do the job. The first step would be to stop leaking traceable evidence, restore stealth and adopt a random vector off their present flight path. Time and distance were their allies.

She hit the sectional airlock, sealed for the boarding counter-protocols. A simple look to the coded entryway signaled Reggie, who opened it. No sooner than she crossed the threshold did the air behind her get cycled from the bay and all containment dropped. The majority of the fires belowdecks extinguished immediately. She ran, seeing nobody in her path, the onslaught of transporting rogues finally brought to a stop by their distance. Whoever was left on board just became lunchmeat for Duke.

-TBC-

 

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