In the Kaleidoscope (A Battlestations post)

Posted on Fri 2nd Mar, 2018 @ 5:09pm by

1,064 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Brushfires
Location: USS Samurai, various
Timeline: Two Days Ago

April was the first of the Winter sisters to die.

As a weapons officer, she'd been assigned a battlestation caring for a weapon: the port ventral phaser array. The control room for the array lay at the aft end of the emitter chain and controlled power flow and distribution. Bus bars the size of a Besm girl's torso ran through the space, each heavily insulated.

When the Romulan plasma weapon began eating through the port nacelle, April got to work rerouting power to her weapon. Plasma flow went through the propulsion bus, in order to increase the output to the weapons, but with the port nacelle open and creating a bleed, she needed to...

But fate was not kind. A Romulan Whitewind class light cruiser decloaked and fired its molecular disruptor weapon. The weapon slammed against Samurai's port shield, directly in front of the nacelle. The shield grid, already weakened by the damage to the nacelle, flared and failed. The weapon's energy fed into the plasma circuit, and blew through the preventive fuses. For a microsecond, the load on the port EPS conduit was over a hundred times its rated load.

With the weapon power transition in progress, plasma from both port and starboard conduits was feeding the weapon control room. An uncontrolled exothermic reaction was inevitable, and deadly.

---

In Auxiliary Control, sometimes called the "battle bridge," September Winter was frantically trying to find a weakness, any weakness, in the ships opposing Samurai. She noted, a second after Commander McCord did, that one of the Whitewind vessels was badly abusing the singularity drive which powered the ship. She wasn't distracted, though, for a long minute; she noticed the shield fluctuation on that vessel.

"Commander Bowditch," September called, "I've found a weakness in one of the Whitewinds. We may be able to put a Marine boarding party aboard!"

The Atlantic Bottlenose Dolphin turned toward September, her antigrav harness giving her the odd appearance of swimming in air. Before she could respond, however, another hit shook the ship.

"The bridge is hit!" the tactical officer reported.

"Follow up on the boarding party," Bowditch ordered September, her voder giving her voice a smooth, calm sound. "How bad is the damage to the bridge?"

"Bad," the tactical officer answered.

Before he could explain what 'bad' meant in this context, the com system crackled to life. "McCord here. Does anyone read me? Bridge is blown. I repeat, Bridge is blown."

"This is Commander Bowditch," the XO announced. "I have assumed tactical authority for USS Samurai in auxiliary control." The com system didn't seem to be taking her words beyond the walls, but Bowditch knew the log recorder had them -- and that, if they didn't find a way to win this combat, it wouldn't matter, anyway.

"Engineering has used one of the nacelles to destroy the Lyran ship," the tactical officer reported.

---

They assembled in Transporter Room 4. Marine Captain March Winter, four senior NCOs from her platoon, and Lieutenant Junior Grade October Winter. "Here's the algorithm on the shield fluctuations," Captain Winter said, handing a data solid to the transporter chief. "Please get us through, instead of scattered across space."

"I'll do my best," the Chief promised.

March smiled tightly and turned away, then paused, noticing the pressure container pushed off to one side. "What's that?"

The Chief glanced away from the control console he'd been uploading the shield algorithm to. "The only survivor of Beowulf: the ship's cat. Someone apparently shoved it in the carrier when they were attacked."

March shook her head and took her place on the platform.

---

Lieutenant Junior Grade November Winter was in Sickbay, directing chaos. Which was to say she was acting as triage nurse, figuring out who needed attention right now, who could wait, and who had no chance, no matter what happened. As she checked over the most recent arrivals, Hospital Corpsman First Class DeLonge showed up at her elbow. John, November remembered. She always remembered his name, because she was not-so-secretly twelve years old.

"The Professor is ready for the next victim," he said.

November straightened and nodded, and turned to point at a crewman. "Take..." she said.

One of the Whitewinds fired through Samurai's failed port shield segment, and the energy weapon struck deep into the hull. November, DeLonge, and fifty other members of the crew died without even the time to be afraid of what came.

---

In Aux Control, Commander Bowditch used one of the waldos on her harness to cling to a rail, anchoring herself in place. "Have we got a charge on that torpedo bank yet?" she demanded.

"Charge in three... two... charged!" the tactical officer reported.

"Target the junction between their aft and dorsal shields!" Bowditch ordered.

The deep thrum of torpedoes firing echoed through the ship.

"Hit!" the tactical officer enthused. "Aft shield has failed! Firing phasers!"

On the screen, the Romulan built vessel exploded, debris flying away from the vessel in an expanding cloud of swiftly-freezing gasses.

---

"We've secured the bridge!" March's voice came through October's combadge. "These guys aren't Romulans... they're a composite crew."

"Uh-huh," October responded absently, her hands flying across the engine control panel.

"How's it going down there?" March prompted.

"Bad," October grunted, still trying to avert disaster.

"How bad are we talking?" March asked.

"These guys didn't know jack about running a singularity drive," October said. "They let the event horizon grow too large. I'm trying to vent off Hawking radiation, but it may be too late."

"Do your best," March encouraged.

---

September Winter, on the battle bridge, reported, "We have a report from our Marines. They say they've secured the vessel, and that the crew is not..." Her already large eyes widened further, and she lapsed into her native language.

"Lieutenant!" Bowditch chastised.

"Let it be," the tactical officer advised. "The Whitewind just imploded. Two of her sisters were over there."

---

Like many crew members whose occupational specialties weren't particularly helpful in battle, Lieutenant Junior Grade December Winter was assigned to a damage control team during battlestations.

She had collapsed on the deck outside the port ventral phaser control room, her back against the bulkhead. The crisply fried corpse of her sister rested on the deck, her head in December's lap. December cried silently, her hand resting lightly on April's forehead.

It was a long time before anyone moved them.

 

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