Just Get There! (P3)

Posted on Tue 8th Oct, 2024 @ 7:06pm by Commodore H'tek & Commander Entaaro Nasz & Captain Gordon Francis & Izwyx 'Lo

1,721 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: The Phoenix Gamble
Location: SB109/Ticonderoga T’olana system adjacent
Timeline: MD2

Previously:
https://sb109.sim-station.net/index.php/sim/viewpost/2327

-Start-

{Runabout Allegheny}

Lieutenant Kreypa felt his pulse quicken. Whoever answered was new, not a voice he recognized. Their transport was still off course and maintaining speed on a new heading.

“Bad Circuits?”

Without a notion as to why he primed the shield emitters for quick deploy. Not something overtly hostile but he felt a paranoia descend. A moment passed and the system showed ready to deploy. Digga Kreypa was a proud Capellan and fear was not in his DNA. Pressing the stud to send a hail he also compiled data and began a scan.

“1504 life forms?” More data came in as the hail was unanswered and the tingle in his fingers for battle came over his senses.

He deployed shields right away, just as the shock of a simple ion beam glittered in resplendence. He opened comms and saw many of the vital systems had been downgraded to older models. He realized the Captain never intended to return for this runabout, and so had replaced the current tech for reliable older and widely used variants. He couldn’t pierce the scattering field the transport generated. No hails would get through.

More impacts from the beam caused minor power fluctuations but shields made short work of particle weapons. He could escape, but the poor colonists here would be taken. His mind concocted the dozen or so scenarios to come to a plan that might work. He had to remain with the group, and get word to Starfleet, so he needed to take damage, drop parts, vent the overload of cargo and leave within it a messsage…

No weapons on the Allegheny wasn’t a surprise, but the shields were holding up. In the cargo was a cache of programmable nano machines, and within their data storage he dumped everything from the computer while recording a message. He didnt have much time or the plan would lose cohesion, so he made the message short. The runabout was filled with provisions but when he replicated a phaser using his codes to override, he set fire to all of it. Knowing their pursuer would detect the trouble internally, all that was left to have shields fail and vent the stuff.

He took a deep breath, praying the containment fields would be quick. Then training kicked in and he exhaled just as his program executed. Shields failed under the ion attack inexplicably, and struck bare hull. Explosive bolt release did the rest and Lieutenant Kreypa felt a pull from death itself as the atmosphere vented so violently. Grim satisfaction at a job partially done let him feel something beyond sheer terror and he held on to the seat tightly.

The Allegheny tumbled in space, adrift and helpless, Kreypa sent one more hail, hoping this plan would also save him.

“Please. I’m just a man in space, no threat. Please don’t kill me.”

What might have been mere seconds was the longest wait of Lieutenant Kreypa’s life. A transport beam claimed him, the glow of the beam fading into the debris scattering around the ruined shuttle.

But within the spinning wreckage and flotsam sent far and wide, tiny machines powered with just enough to make a transmitter began their work.

-SB109-

{Operations}

Sitting at his station, Entaaro heard the odd hailing frequency and zeroed in on it, “Commander Eberstark? You’ll want to see this.”

A message had arrived, basic logs, distress signal log data, weapons fire indicated.

A Capellan with Lieutenant pips showed from the pilot seat perspective a runabout crammed with gear.

“Logs will explain the rest, T’olana refugees dispatched from Ticonderoga relief tour have been taken by hostile parties. I have sent all scan data I could take in this short time. I will be attempting to place myself into their population and will do what I can to aid in your location of us. The longer they venture into deep Imperial Core Remnant the harder it will be to locate much less rescue them. Time is of the essence. Kreypa out.”

Entaaro sent it to the Captain as well, ready for action with a summary description, “Distress Call from a runabout USS Allegheny describing potential piracy and trafficking of Romulan refugees out of T’olana. The Allegheny is not able to be raised. Lt Kreypa is MIA.”

Just then, Captain Francis stepped off the turbolift and charged into Ops, barking, "Report" as he went to his central station.

After being caught up quickly and having seen Kreypa's message, Francis asked Entaaro, "Is there any further information in the logs Lieutenant Kreypa included? Please tell me there's not an abandoned runabout just sitting around somewhere."

The Klingon considered carefully, "No further contact from the Lieutenant, the message only repeated five times and power ended at source. Shuttle status undetermined, sir. The signal is not from the Allegheny though. With Signal decay factored I plot their distance at 3.78LY inside the Demarcated Imperial Remnant."

The Captain shook his head. "I need more than that, Mr. Nasz," he said. "Give me the skivvy on the Ticonderoga. Where is she currently?"

"Their itenerary shows them on a tangential course away from T'olana, their response time would be five hours. There are no closer vessels except for the Thunderchild at sixteen hours considering maximum warp. Live communication is on four minute delay."

"What is Thunderchild's current heading?" Francis asked.

"On assignment tracking the attackers of the Comfort, Precise location undetermined... Mrang I was their last report four hours ago. Shall I attempt to raise them sir?"

"Please," the Captain said with a nod. "Who's commanding the Thunderchild?"

Entaaro checked his boards, "Lieutenant Commander Alaina Trudahn, Captain Briggs is on assignment."

"Cancel that call," Francis said. "Get me the Ticonderoga."

{Star Cradle Ticonderoga}

The tension on the bridge was palpable. The transmission had only been partially decrypted but there leading estimates was Lt. Kreypa signaling for help.

“Captain? Incoming Priority one transmission from… Starbase 109, Captain Francis.”

Izwyx understood right away, they weren’t the only ones who got the signal. SB109 had a hundred times over the computer capacity. A Starfleet call for help was heard by anyone listening.

“Put em through,” she ordered her comm officer, swiveling from the dais row to face the screen squarely.

The friendly face of an older statesman greeted her. She could see the iron jaw, narrow focus which indicated this was a matter of grave importance and matched the gravitas.

“Captain, you also received this distress call?” Izzy asked.

"We did, Ticonderoga," Francis replied. "I'm Captain Francis of Starbase 109. We detected the call and I'm afraid the buck passes to you. Are you able?"

Izwyx let her face show her anger, “More than. Send any help you can, we will lay in a pursuit course right away. We will try to reach out to Romulan assets as well, any assistance on diplomatic fronts will be needed.”

"That won't be a problem," Francis said. "And thanks for the help!"

The screen closed out, and Izwyx felt an enormous surge of panic almost tipple over into a true manifestation of emotions but the training of the job kept it at bay long enough to tamp it back down. The half second was noticeable though, so she hit the ground running.

“Open channel to the general assembly and civilian decks…. Attention, Attention. In response to a distress call from the T’olana convoy we are engaging in high warp to pursue our departed comrades. We have little information, but mighty shields and capable crew who will not rest until we recover our people. There are Starships on the way, but it falls to us to keep the trail alive and blaze ahead. All crew are hereby activated to auxiliary positions and Starfleet crew report to battle stations.”

She turned her ire to the bridge with speed, “Sepp, coordinate the reshape efforts and reduce the trim as much as you can, we need to squeeze into a warp five bubble so dump it if we can’t afford it.” He turned to get to work, that task was all by itself the most important and enormous. To coordinate a vessel of this size at high warp took full focus, Izwyx knew he was up to it but the other key points would need to be delegated.

To her pilot she said, “Harold, keep our internal fields at maximum-” she was cut off when he took a sharp breath to reply but then was himself stopped by her no nonsense face. “I understand it’s like flying a brick but those are my orders.

Fouran in Operations was next, “ Secure Open decks, place EPS safeties at vital junctions and civilian decks. Just batten hatches and withdraw all vessels into cradle right away, fit runabouts with combat modules.”

Though limited they had options for offense, “Tactical, prepare for hostile boarding and alert the Peregrine wing.”

She tapped her badge, “Engineering, prepare for compressive hull fractures, preload worker bees in module B configuration. Chief, speed, then safety, I expect 5.5 within the hour!”

The reply wasn’t to her liking, “Sir, present load out will prevent us from achieving past 5.2 at best.”

Harold replied, “And with IDF at maximum we won’t have any capacity past 4.8 for maneuvering without shearing forces on the hull.”

Fouran came back as well with an additional problem, “Power allocation is already at 71 of normal we wont have power capacity to maintain warp 5 and internal deformation fields.”

Izwyx knew this was all coming, “These are the problems you’re hired to solve, every minute we aren’t in pursuit is another they spend in possible danger or dying in space. We need to get there now!”

She turned to the scanner station, Bettaignla, get to scanning, we need to find them, and prepare for a tussle with cloaked vessels. Charge the particle collectors for tachyonic bursts.”

She was asking a lot, but the day had demanded a high toll, she didnt relent when the worry on their faces made many hesitate. She ended the discussion soundly, “I expect a robust and impressive update to all my orders in a tight five understand? Move!”

With true grit, she made her last order, “Harold pursuit course, maximum warp. Let’s go!”

-End-

 

RSS Feed