A Walk In The Park
Moderators: Tournneau, Korath, Kersare
<<USS Malinche>>
<Bridge, 1545, Day 1>
Amanda and Chief Thomas returned to the bridge. Mark was in the command chair, taking over for the time being. He stood up and relinquinised the command chair.
"What was so important that you needed to call me away from our suddenly undead guy?"
"Ship launch from the area that launched the attack," Grayson clarified.
"Now that is interesting. Heading?"
"They're almost out of the atmosphere."
"Move to intercept," Amanda ordered. "Hail them."
"Exactly what are you doing?" Brice asked.
"Finding some answers," Amanda responded.
The Malinche easily caught up with the smaller vessel.
"They aren't responding," Joey (NPC) reported. "They're preparing to engage thier warp drive."
"Target thier engines."
The Malinche cut loose with a burst of phaser fire that cleanly damaged the transports engines, causing her to stall in space. The transport wasn't even close to armed enough to cause the crew of the Malinche any harm.
"Sir, I'm detecting a build up of some sort of gas inside the transport...life signs are fading fast."
"Damn sucidal idiots," Amanda grumbled. "Transport them directly to sickbay and have a security team standing by."
OFF: Tag all!
<Bridge, 1545, Day 1>
Amanda and Chief Thomas returned to the bridge. Mark was in the command chair, taking over for the time being. He stood up and relinquinised the command chair.
"What was so important that you needed to call me away from our suddenly undead guy?"
"Ship launch from the area that launched the attack," Grayson clarified.
"Now that is interesting. Heading?"
"They're almost out of the atmosphere."
"Move to intercept," Amanda ordered. "Hail them."
"Exactly what are you doing?" Brice asked.
"Finding some answers," Amanda responded.
The Malinche easily caught up with the smaller vessel.
"They aren't responding," Joey (NPC) reported. "They're preparing to engage thier warp drive."
"Target thier engines."
The Malinche cut loose with a burst of phaser fire that cleanly damaged the transports engines, causing her to stall in space. The transport wasn't even close to armed enough to cause the crew of the Malinche any harm.
"Sir, I'm detecting a build up of some sort of gas inside the transport...life signs are fading fast."
"Damn sucidal idiots," Amanda grumbled. "Transport them directly to sickbay and have a security team standing by."
OFF: Tag all!
<img src="http://ussmalinche.kersare.net/images/bltcdr.jpg">
Lieutenant Commander Amanda Darkhelm
Chief Medical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
Lieutenant Commander Amanda Darkhelm
Chief Medical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
<<USS Malinche>>
<Sickbay, 155o, Day 1>
Amanda left Grayson in charge and headed down to sickbay, Brice in two. She had recieved a report that both those trying to beam off the transport were fine and in stable condition; althougth there was something startling about them...or so Adam (NPC) had said. Entering sickbay, she found most of her staff clustered around a monitor.
"Dare I ask whats going on? And why aren't you watching our recently revived dead guy and new patients?"
"Doctor," Brice said, poking her in the arm.
Amanda turned around to see that Barrett was sitting up in bed, talking to another one of the nurses.
"I still say he looks pretty good for a dead man," Brice commented. "But what did you need to call us away from the bridge for?"
"This."
Of course the images and data on the screen didn't really mean anything to Brice...other then something was going on. Clearly whatever it was enough to cause Amanda to perk her eyebrows in interest.
"Mind telling the medically challenged exactly why you are looking like that?"
"Thier brain wave patterns are different then the native Celtrions...in fact thier whole brain structure is different."
"Something to do with the posion?" Brice asked.
Amanda shook her head. "No, in fact if I had to venture a guess I wouldn't say these are Celtrons at all."
Brice looked at the two sleeping bodies. "So, what or who are they then?
OFF
<Sickbay, 155o, Day 1>
Amanda left Grayson in charge and headed down to sickbay, Brice in two. She had recieved a report that both those trying to beam off the transport were fine and in stable condition; althougth there was something startling about them...or so Adam (NPC) had said. Entering sickbay, she found most of her staff clustered around a monitor.
"Dare I ask whats going on? And why aren't you watching our recently revived dead guy and new patients?"
"Doctor," Brice said, poking her in the arm.
Amanda turned around to see that Barrett was sitting up in bed, talking to another one of the nurses.
"I still say he looks pretty good for a dead man," Brice commented. "But what did you need to call us away from the bridge for?"
"This."
Of course the images and data on the screen didn't really mean anything to Brice...other then something was going on. Clearly whatever it was enough to cause Amanda to perk her eyebrows in interest.
"Mind telling the medically challenged exactly why you are looking like that?"
"Thier brain wave patterns are different then the native Celtrions...in fact thier whole brain structure is different."
"Something to do with the posion?" Brice asked.
Amanda shook her head. "No, in fact if I had to venture a guess I wouldn't say these are Celtrons at all."
Brice looked at the two sleeping bodies. "So, what or who are they then?
OFF
<img src="http://ussmalinche.kersare.net/images/r-VVV0.jpg">
Chief Petty Officer Brice Thomas
Chief of the Boat, Engineer's Mate
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
Chief Petty Officer Brice Thomas
Chief of the Boat, Engineer's Mate
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
<<USS Malinche>>
<Sickbay, 1550, Day 1>
"Believe me, I have no clue."
"That doesn't make me feel any better doc," Brice responded. Amanda agreed with him on that one. Something was going on down on the surface and thier comrades might be walking right into a trap. If these weren't who they appeared to be there was no telling what else on the surface could be false.
"So, what are we going to do with them?"
"Keep them here...for the time being at least...and keep them sedated."
Before Brice could ask any further questions one of the displays started to beep. Amanda frowned, turning to look at the display above the alien's bed.
"Well I'll be dammned."
"Found something?"
"You could say that," Amanda responded, looking at the aliens. "Not only are they not Celtronions, they aren't even from this galaxy...they're extra-galactical."
OFF: Tag Brice!
<Sickbay, 1550, Day 1>
"Believe me, I have no clue."
"That doesn't make me feel any better doc," Brice responded. Amanda agreed with him on that one. Something was going on down on the surface and thier comrades might be walking right into a trap. If these weren't who they appeared to be there was no telling what else on the surface could be false.
"So, what are we going to do with them?"
"Keep them here...for the time being at least...and keep them sedated."
Before Brice could ask any further questions one of the displays started to beep. Amanda frowned, turning to look at the display above the alien's bed.
"Well I'll be dammned."
"Found something?"
"You could say that," Amanda responded, looking at the aliens. "Not only are they not Celtronions, they aren't even from this galaxy...they're extra-galactical."
OFF: Tag Brice!
<img src="http://ussmalinche.kersare.net/images/bltcdr.jpg">
Lieutenant Commander Amanda Darkhelm
Chief Medical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
Lieutenant Commander Amanda Darkhelm
Chief Medical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
<<USS Malinche>>
<Sickbay, 1550, Day 1>
"Extra galacitcal?" Brice asked. He didn't care that he as pretty sure his jaw hit the floor. "You mean as in not from this galaxy?"
"I do believe thats what term..Kersare is just going to love this when she gets back."
"I bet," Brice grunted. "What do we do now?"
"Commander Darkhelm to Grayson."
"Go ahead."
"I need you to start scanning for spatial rifts, subspaces holes...anything that coudl possible open a whole to another galaxy. I'm sending Chief Thomas back up to the bridge, I have some work to do in sickbay. On your way cheif, better let Grayson know what we found."
<Bridge, 1553>
"Extra galatical you say?" Grayson responed, peering at Brice. "And she's sure of this?"
"Apparently so."
"Alright, she gets what she wants," turning to the operatiosn and science stations. "You heard what the commander said, get to work."
OFF: Tag all!
<Sickbay, 1550, Day 1>
"Extra galacitcal?" Brice asked. He didn't care that he as pretty sure his jaw hit the floor. "You mean as in not from this galaxy?"
"I do believe thats what term..Kersare is just going to love this when she gets back."
"I bet," Brice grunted. "What do we do now?"
"Commander Darkhelm to Grayson."
"Go ahead."
"I need you to start scanning for spatial rifts, subspaces holes...anything that coudl possible open a whole to another galaxy. I'm sending Chief Thomas back up to the bridge, I have some work to do in sickbay. On your way cheif, better let Grayson know what we found."
<Bridge, 1553>
"Extra galatical you say?" Grayson responed, peering at Brice. "And she's sure of this?"
"Apparently so."
"Alright, she gets what she wants," turning to the operatiosn and science stations. "You heard what the commander said, get to work."
OFF: Tag all!
<img src="http://ussmalinche.kersare.net/images/r-VVV0.jpg">
Chief Petty Officer Brice Thomas
Chief of the Boat, Engineer's Mate
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
Chief Petty Officer Brice Thomas
Chief of the Boat, Engineer's Mate
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
<<Unknown>>
<Unknown>
Drifting through space was supposed to be a peaceful affair. But it wasn't...not now. Hundreds of ships surged from space around Celtron V, seeding the planet with destruction. Jason's mind knew what it was seeing.
The war that he had been trying to prevent was unfolding right before him. Ships and pilots died explosive deaths as the Celtrons tried to repel the incoming invaders...but they were no match.
No one stops the Horde.
Jason screamed more in anger then in pain. Soon he found himself on the ground, surrounded by others. Something was familiar about them...
A new evil requires new tools...the Vanguards are those tools. They will carry the symbiotes, the V'lynn Kraseh, they will lead the war....
Jason didn't know who was talking...but he knew what he was doing. Blats of energy exploded all around him as he and his strike squad barreled into Horde lines. Firesabers flashed free from hilts, slicing through enemy after enemy. Above them massive starships traded fire....
They are here...you can no longer stop them. Celtron V was the fracture point...prepare for war.
And then nothing.
<Unknown>
Drifting through space was supposed to be a peaceful affair. But it wasn't...not now. Hundreds of ships surged from space around Celtron V, seeding the planet with destruction. Jason's mind knew what it was seeing.
The war that he had been trying to prevent was unfolding right before him. Ships and pilots died explosive deaths as the Celtrons tried to repel the incoming invaders...but they were no match.
No one stops the Horde.
Jason screamed more in anger then in pain. Soon he found himself on the ground, surrounded by others. Something was familiar about them...
A new evil requires new tools...the Vanguards are those tools. They will carry the symbiotes, the V'lynn Kraseh, they will lead the war....
Jason didn't know who was talking...but he knew what he was doing. Blats of energy exploded all around him as he and his strike squad barreled into Horde lines. Firesabers flashed free from hilts, slicing through enemy after enemy. Above them massive starships traded fire....
They are here...you can no longer stop them. Celtron V was the fracture point...prepare for war.
And then nothing.
![Image](http://ussmalinche.kersare.net/images/rltcdr.jpg)
Lieutenant Commander Jason Barrett
Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
<Bridge, 1600>
Mark Grayson felt very at ease, sitting at the captain's chair. His rage about Barrett had disappeared when he heard about his amazing ressurection.
He looked around and saw the rest of the crew working to scan the area. The information that COB Thomas has brought was surprising, but, not shocking.
All that technology had come from somewhere, Mark had concluded. Since that technology was unknown to Starfleet Intel and the others intelligence agencies, Mark was sure that tech had come from outside known space. He wouldn't never guess about extra-galactical forces manipulating Celtron.
"Never say Never", thought him."I really losing my edge".
He sat there, looking at his own hands. He had killed people again, with his bare hands. It was horrible and at the same a thrill. That feeling really bothered Mark. Feeling a thrill for terminating someone else's life wasn't suppose to be good.
"Sir!", exclamed Joey Summers (NPC), "Sensors are getting a great number of ships in the edge of the system!"
Mark got up. "Ships, what kind of ships?"
"I can't really say, sir. They are too far to sensors identify."
"How many?"
"Ten objects", replied Summers. "Funny", said him after a moment.
"What's funny, Summers?", Mark really was starting to get irritated.
Summers gulped. "Uh, sorry. The ships are not moving. They're just there at the edge of the system."
Mark turned to Tamlin (NPC), the comm officer."Hail them."
"I can't, sir. It's too far and there's too much interference", replied Ryan Tamlin.
Mark started pacing around the bridge. How to know if that ships were a threat or not? Should he risked or should he play safe. Mark wasn't a man to play, never had been.
"Mr. Sychorski", said him to the helm officer. "Prepare to break orbit. Lay interception course".
"Sir?", Joshua Sychorski (NPC) was bemused.
COB Thomas spoke. "Shouldn't we check this with Commander Darkhelm?"
Mark snarled. "No time for that. If those ships are a threat, we must find out before they get too close of the planet. If they are enemies we'll fall back and we'll have time to call for reinforcements. If they're friends, so much the better, we could the help. Mr. Sychorski, engage, now."
After a moment of hesitation, the Malinche broke orbit. Mark could imagine Darkhelm reaction. He didn't care much about it. Whatever his duty was, sometimes some rules should bend for the great good.
"How long before we reach Comm range, Mr. Tomlin?", asked him
"Five minutes, tops", was the answer.
[1605]
After five long minutes, Tomlin nodded to Mark. "Alright, helm, full stop. Mr. Tomlin, open the channels."
"Channel Open, sir".
Mark cleared his throat. "This Lt. Mark Grayson from the Federation Starship Malinche, please identify yourselves."
After a moment, Tomlin said, urgently. "They're responding, sir."
"On the screen", said Mark.
Nothing could surprise Mark more than the face that appeared on the screen. He was expecting all sort of races but not Klingons."
"I'm Tor'k son of M'rat, I command the IKS Mogh. What do you want?"
Mark knew that Tor'k was being polite, Klingon-wise. "Hello, Captain Tor'k, may ask why are you here?"
"I'm here because the High Council has a honor debt with your captain and your ship. I'm here... To help."
Mark surprise was intense, but he kept his face straight. "Why exactly the High Council thinks they own us a honor debt?"
"HAH! The Malinche dealt with that P'taks, that disonorable rogues, that nameless targs!", cried T'ark.
"I see", Mark said. The last thing they needed were ten ships full of happy trigger klingons wanting to help. He held his tongue. "You honor us with your presence. We appreciate any help you can give us."
"I shall direct my fleet to take orbit on the planet you came from. We can discuss more later. OUT!"
The screen returned to the calm scene of stars.
"Shit", Mark muttered, under his breath. Turning around he said louder, "Return us to the Planet, standard orbit. Mr. Thomas, you better inform Commander Darkhelm that we're going to have company and they are not coming her to dinner."
OFF: tag all!
Mark Grayson felt very at ease, sitting at the captain's chair. His rage about Barrett had disappeared when he heard about his amazing ressurection.
He looked around and saw the rest of the crew working to scan the area. The information that COB Thomas has brought was surprising, but, not shocking.
All that technology had come from somewhere, Mark had concluded. Since that technology was unknown to Starfleet Intel and the others intelligence agencies, Mark was sure that tech had come from outside known space. He wouldn't never guess about extra-galactical forces manipulating Celtron.
"Never say Never", thought him."I really losing my edge".
He sat there, looking at his own hands. He had killed people again, with his bare hands. It was horrible and at the same a thrill. That feeling really bothered Mark. Feeling a thrill for terminating someone else's life wasn't suppose to be good.
"Sir!", exclamed Joey Summers (NPC), "Sensors are getting a great number of ships in the edge of the system!"
Mark got up. "Ships, what kind of ships?"
"I can't really say, sir. They are too far to sensors identify."
"How many?"
"Ten objects", replied Summers. "Funny", said him after a moment.
"What's funny, Summers?", Mark really was starting to get irritated.
Summers gulped. "Uh, sorry. The ships are not moving. They're just there at the edge of the system."
Mark turned to Tamlin (NPC), the comm officer."Hail them."
"I can't, sir. It's too far and there's too much interference", replied Ryan Tamlin.
Mark started pacing around the bridge. How to know if that ships were a threat or not? Should he risked or should he play safe. Mark wasn't a man to play, never had been.
"Mr. Sychorski", said him to the helm officer. "Prepare to break orbit. Lay interception course".
"Sir?", Joshua Sychorski (NPC) was bemused.
COB Thomas spoke. "Shouldn't we check this with Commander Darkhelm?"
Mark snarled. "No time for that. If those ships are a threat, we must find out before they get too close of the planet. If they are enemies we'll fall back and we'll have time to call for reinforcements. If they're friends, so much the better, we could the help. Mr. Sychorski, engage, now."
After a moment of hesitation, the Malinche broke orbit. Mark could imagine Darkhelm reaction. He didn't care much about it. Whatever his duty was, sometimes some rules should bend for the great good.
"How long before we reach Comm range, Mr. Tomlin?", asked him
"Five minutes, tops", was the answer.
[1605]
After five long minutes, Tomlin nodded to Mark. "Alright, helm, full stop. Mr. Tomlin, open the channels."
"Channel Open, sir".
Mark cleared his throat. "This Lt. Mark Grayson from the Federation Starship Malinche, please identify yourselves."
After a moment, Tomlin said, urgently. "They're responding, sir."
"On the screen", said Mark.
Nothing could surprise Mark more than the face that appeared on the screen. He was expecting all sort of races but not Klingons."
"I'm Tor'k son of M'rat, I command the IKS Mogh. What do you want?"
Mark knew that Tor'k was being polite, Klingon-wise. "Hello, Captain Tor'k, may ask why are you here?"
"I'm here because the High Council has a honor debt with your captain and your ship. I'm here... To help."
Mark surprise was intense, but he kept his face straight. "Why exactly the High Council thinks they own us a honor debt?"
"HAH! The Malinche dealt with that P'taks, that disonorable rogues, that nameless targs!", cried T'ark.
"I see", Mark said. The last thing they needed were ten ships full of happy trigger klingons wanting to help. He held his tongue. "You honor us with your presence. We appreciate any help you can give us."
"I shall direct my fleet to take orbit on the planet you came from. We can discuss more later. OUT!"
The screen returned to the calm scene of stars.
"Shit", Mark muttered, under his breath. Turning around he said louder, "Return us to the Planet, standard orbit. Mr. Thomas, you better inform Commander Darkhelm that we're going to have company and they are not coming her to dinner."
OFF: tag all!
![Image](http://ussmalinche.kersare.net/images/grlt.jpg)
Lieutenant Mark Grayson II
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
"O divine art of subtlety and secrecy! Through you we learn to be invisible, through you inaudible and hence we can hold the enemy's fate in our hands." - Sun Tzu
-
- Senior Staff
- Posts: 60
- Joined: Mon Dec 19, 2005 11:29 pm
- Location: A hole, usually, sometimes referred to as Blackpool (UK)
ON: Somewhere in the caves.
His phaser unclipped and out in front of him, Abubakar stepped gingerly through the darkness. His right hand held his weapon, and his left ran along the winding walls as he walked, trying to give him some sense of direction.
"Smart idea" he said to himself, wondering what had possessed him to sprint into dark caves, alone, just to pursue some silloutte.
Jaran put anothe foot forward, his organs buzzed as his foot kept going, cracking through the ground. In a second, his other leg collapsed through the breaking floor. In a reflex, he squeezed his hands shut, inadvertantly firing his phaser in a few random directions as the ground slipped away over the top of him. As the rest of his body began to fall, Abubakar realised he was descending into some kind of great cavern, he chanced a look down and saw what was once the floor beneath him, crashing down into crystal clear water. There was a light source, somewhere...
The movment of his head had done him no good, and he felt a searing hot pain iin his forehead n time with a sickening crack, which was also in time with the dark cavern turning 'blacker'. He was vaguely aware that he was falling, although he couldn't asertain if it was because he was really fallling, or was it because of his head, he was also vaguely aware of his flaling hands becoming wet with a warm thick substance as he fell. 'Oh..now that's probably blood' he mused, not particularly bothered, though slightly delusional. 'I follow the path, that the true prophets have laid out for me' he told the Kosst, and himself more than anything.
Just as he finished the thought, he was plunged into an ice cold existence, something he couldn't comprehend filled his lungs with icy brutality, he slowly turned and tumbled...
Through what he imagined to be a rather serious head injury, he became aware that there was a recent memory of falling through a floor in a cave, and that there was an interior lake beneath him, although, he pondered, that thought was from years ago, or was it just now? Maybe he hadn't had the memory yet at all...
Another blast of freezing force filled his lungs and Abubakar realised his actualy sputtering on water. He instinctively started pulling with his hands and kicking with his feet, 'is this up?' he wondered.
A few dizzy moments later and he was greeted by a warmer sensation filling his lungs, 'air', he realised. Abubakar turned in the water, aware of watered down blood trickling into his mouth, he was right next to an outcropping of rock, luckily he hadn't hit it on the way down, 'or did I?'
Abubakars hands snaked round the thing, making him aware he had lost his phaser and tricoder, and the rock his left hand had been running along had also selfishly disappeared.
Devoid of energy, he struggled to touch his comm badge, "Ja... Jaran, Jaran to Cap...to Cap..." he fought to breath in, "...Captain Kersurgh..." Abubakar slumped over the rock he had clung to, annoyed that as he lost the strength to stay awake, he hit his head again on the damn rock. And if he died, it would be pointless, he hadn't even found anything out, except that some scary thing had shuffled past him in the dark, 'but that could have been years ago' he told himself.
Still semi-concious, Abubakar was aware of the freezing water lapping at his waist, and of the cold air on his wet uniform and face. The tast of blood was becoming stronger now, probably as there wasn't a fresh supply of water to dilute it. There was a large splash, and Abubakar was aware of something in the water coming towards him, quickly, he made a feeble attempt at speaking, it came out as a mere weak gutteral noise, his attempts to push himself up were useless, 'come get me then you bastard' Abubakar challenged whatever it was that was charging him...
OFF
His phaser unclipped and out in front of him, Abubakar stepped gingerly through the darkness. His right hand held his weapon, and his left ran along the winding walls as he walked, trying to give him some sense of direction.
"Smart idea" he said to himself, wondering what had possessed him to sprint into dark caves, alone, just to pursue some silloutte.
Jaran put anothe foot forward, his organs buzzed as his foot kept going, cracking through the ground. In a second, his other leg collapsed through the breaking floor. In a reflex, he squeezed his hands shut, inadvertantly firing his phaser in a few random directions as the ground slipped away over the top of him. As the rest of his body began to fall, Abubakar realised he was descending into some kind of great cavern, he chanced a look down and saw what was once the floor beneath him, crashing down into crystal clear water. There was a light source, somewhere...
The movment of his head had done him no good, and he felt a searing hot pain iin his forehead n time with a sickening crack, which was also in time with the dark cavern turning 'blacker'. He was vaguely aware that he was falling, although he couldn't asertain if it was because he was really fallling, or was it because of his head, he was also vaguely aware of his flaling hands becoming wet with a warm thick substance as he fell. 'Oh..now that's probably blood' he mused, not particularly bothered, though slightly delusional. 'I follow the path, that the true prophets have laid out for me' he told the Kosst, and himself more than anything.
Just as he finished the thought, he was plunged into an ice cold existence, something he couldn't comprehend filled his lungs with icy brutality, he slowly turned and tumbled...
Through what he imagined to be a rather serious head injury, he became aware that there was a recent memory of falling through a floor in a cave, and that there was an interior lake beneath him, although, he pondered, that thought was from years ago, or was it just now? Maybe he hadn't had the memory yet at all...
Another blast of freezing force filled his lungs and Abubakar realised his actualy sputtering on water. He instinctively started pulling with his hands and kicking with his feet, 'is this up?' he wondered.
A few dizzy moments later and he was greeted by a warmer sensation filling his lungs, 'air', he realised. Abubakar turned in the water, aware of watered down blood trickling into his mouth, he was right next to an outcropping of rock, luckily he hadn't hit it on the way down, 'or did I?'
Abubakars hands snaked round the thing, making him aware he had lost his phaser and tricoder, and the rock his left hand had been running along had also selfishly disappeared.
Devoid of energy, he struggled to touch his comm badge, "Ja... Jaran, Jaran to Cap...to Cap..." he fought to breath in, "...Captain Kersurgh..." Abubakar slumped over the rock he had clung to, annoyed that as he lost the strength to stay awake, he hit his head again on the damn rock. And if he died, it would be pointless, he hadn't even found anything out, except that some scary thing had shuffled past him in the dark, 'but that could have been years ago' he told himself.
Still semi-concious, Abubakar was aware of the freezing water lapping at his waist, and of the cold air on his wet uniform and face. The tast of blood was becoming stronger now, probably as there wasn't a fresh supply of water to dilute it. There was a large splash, and Abubakar was aware of something in the water coming towards him, quickly, he made a feeble attempt at speaking, it came out as a mere weak gutteral noise, his attempts to push himself up were useless, 'come get me then you bastard' Abubakar challenged whatever it was that was charging him...
OFF
![Image](http://ussmalinche.kersare.net/images/rlt.jpg)
Lieutenant Abubakar Jaran
Deceased
The Anti-Lamb 666
Flying Monk-eh
U.S.S Malinche
"It is easier and more effective to destroy the enemy's aerial power by destroying his nests and eggs on the ground than to hunt his flying birds in the air." - General Giulio Douhet
<<USS Malinche>>
<Sickbay, 1605, Day 1>
Brice entered sickbay to find it a flurry of activity. Nurses and doctors were busy fluttering around not only thier two new guests but also the newly alive Barrett. He slipped bast two of them, one of them being Adam (NPC) and headed to where Darkhelm was looking over the latest readouts. She did not look like a happy person.
"We appear to have another problem," Brice said, looking at all the activit. "There are some Klingons on thier way and although they say they are here to help Grayson thinks they might escalate the situation even more."
"Why am I not surprised...life was actually getting to be easy around here. ETA?"
"About 15 minutes, they're coming aboard when they get here."
"Of course they are."
"Any luck on finding out who or what they are?" Brice asked, nodding toward the two unmoving aliens. "Or on finding out why Barrett is still out?"
"Not as of yet," Amanda responded. "Although it appears in a few minutes I'll have bigger fish to look after. Any word from Captain Kersare or her away team?"
"Not so far," Brice said. "We've been a little busy though."
"I know the feeling," Amanda muttered. One of the nurses handed Amanda a PADD, causing her to raise her eyebrows in surprise. Brice really hated it when medical personnel did things like that. It always made him VERY nervous. And judging by her face, Darkhelm didn't like what she saw either.
"What?"
"They appear to be emitting extremely high levels of photons...but why would then be doing that?"
"I have no clue," Brice said.
"Ok, so we know that the captain disappeared....or at the very least is out of communications range, right?"
"Right."
"We need a tracking device."
"What?" Brice asked.
"Commander Darkhelm to Lt. Grayson."
"Go ahead."
"I need you to stall the Klingons as long as possible...I have an idea, Darkhelm out. Adam, I need some Zyoxtin....about 25cc should do the trick."
"May I ask what you are doing?"
"Sending our friends back...but with something to track them with. When exposed to a slight electrical charge, the enzymes in the hormone Zyoxtin creates slight subspace pulse. I plan to send thest two back down and then see if we can track where they go. Grab Joey (NPC) and get to a shuttle ASAP. As soon as we beam them back down, I want you guys to start keeping track of where they are going."
OFF:
A JP brought to you by Chief Thomas and Commander Darkhelm.
<Sickbay, 1605, Day 1>
Brice entered sickbay to find it a flurry of activity. Nurses and doctors were busy fluttering around not only thier two new guests but also the newly alive Barrett. He slipped bast two of them, one of them being Adam (NPC) and headed to where Darkhelm was looking over the latest readouts. She did not look like a happy person.
"We appear to have another problem," Brice said, looking at all the activit. "There are some Klingons on thier way and although they say they are here to help Grayson thinks they might escalate the situation even more."
"Why am I not surprised...life was actually getting to be easy around here. ETA?"
"About 15 minutes, they're coming aboard when they get here."
"Of course they are."
"Any luck on finding out who or what they are?" Brice asked, nodding toward the two unmoving aliens. "Or on finding out why Barrett is still out?"
"Not as of yet," Amanda responded. "Although it appears in a few minutes I'll have bigger fish to look after. Any word from Captain Kersare or her away team?"
"Not so far," Brice said. "We've been a little busy though."
"I know the feeling," Amanda muttered. One of the nurses handed Amanda a PADD, causing her to raise her eyebrows in surprise. Brice really hated it when medical personnel did things like that. It always made him VERY nervous. And judging by her face, Darkhelm didn't like what she saw either.
"What?"
"They appear to be emitting extremely high levels of photons...but why would then be doing that?"
"I have no clue," Brice said.
"Ok, so we know that the captain disappeared....or at the very least is out of communications range, right?"
"Right."
"We need a tracking device."
"What?" Brice asked.
"Commander Darkhelm to Lt. Grayson."
"Go ahead."
"I need you to stall the Klingons as long as possible...I have an idea, Darkhelm out. Adam, I need some Zyoxtin....about 25cc should do the trick."
"May I ask what you are doing?"
"Sending our friends back...but with something to track them with. When exposed to a slight electrical charge, the enzymes in the hormone Zyoxtin creates slight subspace pulse. I plan to send thest two back down and then see if we can track where they go. Grab Joey (NPC) and get to a shuttle ASAP. As soon as we beam them back down, I want you guys to start keeping track of where they are going."
OFF:
A JP brought to you by Chief Thomas and Commander Darkhelm.
<img src="http://ussmalinche.kersare.net/images/r-VVV0.jpg">
Chief Petty Officer Brice Thomas
Chief of the Boat, Engineer's Mate
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
Chief Petty Officer Brice Thomas
Chief of the Boat, Engineer's Mate
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
-
- Senior Staff
- Posts: 185
- Joined: Mon Dec 19, 2005 11:35 pm
- Location: Nasty Borg Bitch!
- Contact:
ON:<<Centron V>>
<Surface, Day 1, 1600>
Cheetara and Brewer continued to follow the strange footprints. As time went on and on nothing seemed to changed. It was and endless chase over the terrain. Eventually they stumbled upon a cave.
"The footprints seem to lead into there", Brewer pointed out.
Cheetara looked a little closer and noticed some other footprints.
"Yes, but who's prints are those?" Cheetara said quietly as she grabbed her tricorder and walked up to scan the prints.
"I would assume human prints" Brewer responded
"Well your assupmtion is correct, but there's more to it. These footprints are actually from starfleet."
"You don't think they could be long to Harrison do you?" Brewer asked
"It may be possible, but could be unlikely. If Harrison was by herself, then there wouldn't be all these sets. However, if the Captain's team came here first and then Harrison came running by afterwards, one set could be." Cheetara explained
"Well, I guess there's only one way to find out" Brewer said as he moved closer to the cave entrance.
"Hold it Brewer", Cheetara began. "We can't just rush in there not knowing what to expect. Let's try and contact the Captain first."
Cheetara tapped her badge and tried to get a communication to Kersare but with no success. Brewer tried his as well and still got no answer.
"So what are we going to do now?" Brewer asked snidely
Cheetara glared at him before responding. "I guess we are going to go in and look around now. Go ahead and lead the way since you were so eager before."
Brewer looked at Cheetara for a minute wondering why she really wanted him to go first. Cheetara was just about to speak ordering him to move it when he proceeded.
The cave got darker as they walked further into it so they turned in their lights. There was an unknown smell that stunk to high hell.
"It smells like something died in here", Brewer said after only being the cave for a few moments.
"Odds are, many things have died in here actually." Cheetara retorted."Just keep your eyes peeled for anything"
OFF:
<Surface, Day 1, 1600>
Cheetara and Brewer continued to follow the strange footprints. As time went on and on nothing seemed to changed. It was and endless chase over the terrain. Eventually they stumbled upon a cave.
"The footprints seem to lead into there", Brewer pointed out.
Cheetara looked a little closer and noticed some other footprints.
"Yes, but who's prints are those?" Cheetara said quietly as she grabbed her tricorder and walked up to scan the prints.
"I would assume human prints" Brewer responded
"Well your assupmtion is correct, but there's more to it. These footprints are actually from starfleet."
"You don't think they could be long to Harrison do you?" Brewer asked
"It may be possible, but could be unlikely. If Harrison was by herself, then there wouldn't be all these sets. However, if the Captain's team came here first and then Harrison came running by afterwards, one set could be." Cheetara explained
"Well, I guess there's only one way to find out" Brewer said as he moved closer to the cave entrance.
"Hold it Brewer", Cheetara began. "We can't just rush in there not knowing what to expect. Let's try and contact the Captain first."
Cheetara tapped her badge and tried to get a communication to Kersare but with no success. Brewer tried his as well and still got no answer.
"So what are we going to do now?" Brewer asked snidely
Cheetara glared at him before responding. "I guess we are going to go in and look around now. Go ahead and lead the way since you were so eager before."
Brewer looked at Cheetara for a minute wondering why she really wanted him to go first. Cheetara was just about to speak ordering him to move it when he proceeded.
The cave got darker as they walked further into it so they turned in their lights. There was an unknown smell that stunk to high hell.
"It smells like something died in here", Brewer said after only being the cave for a few moments.
"Odds are, many things have died in here actually." Cheetara retorted."Just keep your eyes peeled for anything"
OFF:
![Image](http://ussmalinche.kersare.net/images/blt.jpg)
Lieutenant Cheetara Thundera
Chief Science Officer
USS Malinche NCC 38997-A
<<USS Malinche Bridge, 1606, day 1>>
OLD:
"Commander Darkhelm to Lt. Grayson."
"Go ahead."
"I need you to stall the Klingons as long as possible...I have an idea, Darkhelm out".
NEW:
"Stall the Klingons?!", thought Mark exasperated. "How someone stall a Klingon?!"
He scratched his chin. The only tactic Mark had at the moment was to lie like hell. But chances were slim. The last he wanted was to piss them off. rThen, an idea came to him.
"Mr. Jolir" (NPC), said Mark to the Tactical Officer. "Could we create enough interference to give the Klingons sensors the idea of several cloaked ships near their positon?"
"No, sir", was the reply. "What we can do is to create enough interference to neglate them the use of their sensors."
Mark considered the idea. "How long would take before they find out the interference is coming from us?"
"No way to tell, but if I was that Klingon Captain, I would smell a rat pretty fast".
Mark nodded. Scratch that idea, thought him. There was no chance of being sneaky. It was time to be honest, but Mark felt it was a bad idea.
"Alright... Let's stall some klingons, shall we? said him out loud."Tomlin (NPC) open a channel."
"Channel Open, sir."
The screen came to live and there was Tor'k. "What do you want, Lieutenant?"
Mark thought furiosly."You can't approach the planet, Captain."
"WHY?!" yelled the Klingon already in the edgeo of losing his temper.
Mark took a deep breath. "Because we're facing a very delicated diplomatic situation and your arrival is going to give the Celtronian the wrong idea."
"Let them think whatever they want! I have pledge my honor to help you and now you want me to deny my help?", growled the Klingon.
Mark shook his head."This not about your honor, Captain Tor'k. It's about doing the right thing. If you want to help, give me some time to calm down things with the Celtronians. After that, you can approach without problems."
The Klingon showed his teeth, clearly digusted with the idea. "Do nothing?! Is that what do you think I should do?! I want to talk to your captain. I'm done talking to a lowly officer!"
Well, thought Mark, time to get rough. "How dare you calm me lowly, you P'tak?! Are you going to offend us by going against my Captain wishes. Do you want us to talk to High Council and say how did you make things worse?! I think General Martok would destroy you and your house!"
That had an effect at Tor'k. He growled and snarled, but finally conceded. "I'm not going to dishonor myself by breaking my orders. We'll stay here. FOR NOW. OUT!"
The screen returned the image of the stars. Mark sighed. That would give them a couple hours before the Klingons became too impatient and moved their fleet to Celtron.
"Grayson to Darkhelm. Commander, I bought us a couple hours. Klingons are not known for their patience."
OFF:Tag Darkhelm, Tag all![/i]
OLD:
"Commander Darkhelm to Lt. Grayson."
"Go ahead."
"I need you to stall the Klingons as long as possible...I have an idea, Darkhelm out".
NEW:
"Stall the Klingons?!", thought Mark exasperated. "How someone stall a Klingon?!"
He scratched his chin. The only tactic Mark had at the moment was to lie like hell. But chances were slim. The last he wanted was to piss them off. rThen, an idea came to him.
"Mr. Jolir" (NPC), said Mark to the Tactical Officer. "Could we create enough interference to give the Klingons sensors the idea of several cloaked ships near their positon?"
"No, sir", was the reply. "What we can do is to create enough interference to neglate them the use of their sensors."
Mark considered the idea. "How long would take before they find out the interference is coming from us?"
"No way to tell, but if I was that Klingon Captain, I would smell a rat pretty fast".
Mark nodded. Scratch that idea, thought him. There was no chance of being sneaky. It was time to be honest, but Mark felt it was a bad idea.
"Alright... Let's stall some klingons, shall we? said him out loud."Tomlin (NPC) open a channel."
"Channel Open, sir."
The screen came to live and there was Tor'k. "What do you want, Lieutenant?"
Mark thought furiosly."You can't approach the planet, Captain."
"WHY?!" yelled the Klingon already in the edgeo of losing his temper.
Mark took a deep breath. "Because we're facing a very delicated diplomatic situation and your arrival is going to give the Celtronian the wrong idea."
"Let them think whatever they want! I have pledge my honor to help you and now you want me to deny my help?", growled the Klingon.
Mark shook his head."This not about your honor, Captain Tor'k. It's about doing the right thing. If you want to help, give me some time to calm down things with the Celtronians. After that, you can approach without problems."
The Klingon showed his teeth, clearly digusted with the idea. "Do nothing?! Is that what do you think I should do?! I want to talk to your captain. I'm done talking to a lowly officer!"
Well, thought Mark, time to get rough. "How dare you calm me lowly, you P'tak?! Are you going to offend us by going against my Captain wishes. Do you want us to talk to High Council and say how did you make things worse?! I think General Martok would destroy you and your house!"
That had an effect at Tor'k. He growled and snarled, but finally conceded. "I'm not going to dishonor myself by breaking my orders. We'll stay here. FOR NOW. OUT!"
The screen returned the image of the stars. Mark sighed. That would give them a couple hours before the Klingons became too impatient and moved their fleet to Celtron.
"Grayson to Darkhelm. Commander, I bought us a couple hours. Klingons are not known for their patience."
OFF:Tag Darkhelm, Tag all![/i]
![Image](http://ussmalinche.kersare.net/images/grlt.jpg)
Lieutenant Mark Grayson II
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
"O divine art of subtlety and secrecy! Through you we learn to be invisible, through you inaudible and hence we can hold the enemy's fate in our hands." - Sun Tzu
OFF
Sorry for disappearing like that. I'm in the middle of a mess that only a divorce is going to straighten out with a move to Utah this summer. This is going to kill the boys who still love their father. Well, I'm here, sorta.
ON
Two had scrambled from the shuttle she had been piloting and had headed for the hills (better known here as caves). She had entered one that later Cheetara and her party had entered but had managed to disappear outside. The smells from inside were horrific, for the lack of a better descriptive word. She knew that there were more than just the one cave in this area.
Her uniform was torn in places, and her combadge was missing. Her boots fortunately were still in one piece, but for how long on this rugged domain was still in question. She was fortunate that she required very little nutrition but she still needed water. The longer she stayed out in this weather that she was not accustommed to, the harder it was going to be on her. She didn't have a tricorder but her phaser was still working and had a charge.
She knew that she would only be able to use this when she was going to hit whatever she was aiming at. She didn't have any way of recharging the batteries. If the phaser had no charge, then she would be better off picking up rocks and throwing them as hard as she could. She was stronger than she looked, thanks to the Borg technology. But, she thought, maybe one point in the near future, that wouldn't help her.
She went from hill to hill, trying to make sure that she had something to guard her back near by. Maybe she would find a safer cave than the first one she had entered. The second one didn't seem to be too safe, nor did the third one.
Finally, she found one that she thought might be the one she was looking for. It had a very small entrance. She was going to have to move some of the rocks and try to put them back where she had gotten them when she was safe inside.
Maybe.
OFF
Sorry for disappearing like that. I'm in the middle of a mess that only a divorce is going to straighten out with a move to Utah this summer. This is going to kill the boys who still love their father. Well, I'm here, sorta.
ON
Two had scrambled from the shuttle she had been piloting and had headed for the hills (better known here as caves). She had entered one that later Cheetara and her party had entered but had managed to disappear outside. The smells from inside were horrific, for the lack of a better descriptive word. She knew that there were more than just the one cave in this area.
Her uniform was torn in places, and her combadge was missing. Her boots fortunately were still in one piece, but for how long on this rugged domain was still in question. She was fortunate that she required very little nutrition but she still needed water. The longer she stayed out in this weather that she was not accustommed to, the harder it was going to be on her. She didn't have a tricorder but her phaser was still working and had a charge.
She knew that she would only be able to use this when she was going to hit whatever she was aiming at. She didn't have any way of recharging the batteries. If the phaser had no charge, then she would be better off picking up rocks and throwing them as hard as she could. She was stronger than she looked, thanks to the Borg technology. But, she thought, maybe one point in the near future, that wouldn't help her.
She went from hill to hill, trying to make sure that she had something to guard her back near by. Maybe she would find a safer cave than the first one she had entered. The second one didn't seem to be too safe, nor did the third one.
Finally, she found one that she thought might be the one she was looking for. It had a very small entrance. She was going to have to move some of the rocks and try to put them back where she had gotten them when she was safe inside.
Maybe.
OFF
<img src="http://ussmalinche.kersare.net/images/yens.jpg">
Ensign Rebekah Harrison (Two of Nine)
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche
NCC-38897-B
Ensign Rebekah Harrison (Two of Nine)
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche
NCC-38897-B
<<Shuttlecraft>>
<1615, Day 1>
Brice and Joey (NPC) were already skimming through the atmosphere, locking onto the signals of thier two recently returned guests. It didn't take long for thier comrades to come and retrieve them either; they appeared to be eager to get them back to the fold. Joey piloted the shuttle down more, getting closer to the signal as it moved along the ground at a rather high rate of speed.
"Some kind of gound vehcile?" Joey asked, looking at the displays.
"Probably more like some sort of underground monorail or something," Brice responded, bringing up more sensor data on another screen. "Looks like they are headed back the direction thier ship launched from."
"Makes sense. Do you think they can detect us?"
Brice shrugged. "Even if they could I doubt they would fire on us...or so anything at the moment, with the reduced power mode and the natural sheilding from the rocks, I think we have things under control...for the time being."
"Glad to hear someone finally say that...they've changed course again, this time heading due east. Toward Captain Kersare's last known position."
"Keep pace with them, let's see where they are going."
OFF
<1615, Day 1>
Brice and Joey (NPC) were already skimming through the atmosphere, locking onto the signals of thier two recently returned guests. It didn't take long for thier comrades to come and retrieve them either; they appeared to be eager to get them back to the fold. Joey piloted the shuttle down more, getting closer to the signal as it moved along the ground at a rather high rate of speed.
"Some kind of gound vehcile?" Joey asked, looking at the displays.
"Probably more like some sort of underground monorail or something," Brice responded, bringing up more sensor data on another screen. "Looks like they are headed back the direction thier ship launched from."
"Makes sense. Do you think they can detect us?"
Brice shrugged. "Even if they could I doubt they would fire on us...or so anything at the moment, with the reduced power mode and the natural sheilding from the rocks, I think we have things under control...for the time being."
"Glad to hear someone finally say that...they've changed course again, this time heading due east. Toward Captain Kersare's last known position."
"Keep pace with them, let's see where they are going."
OFF
<img src="http://ussmalinche.kersare.net/images/r-VVV0.jpg">
Chief Petty Officer Brice Thomas
Chief of the Boat, Engineer's Mate
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
Chief Petty Officer Brice Thomas
Chief of the Boat, Engineer's Mate
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
<<USS Malinche>>
<Bridge, 1620, Day 1>
"They're changing course."
Amanda nodded, looking back at the screen. The doors to the bridge opened, admitting Jason Barrett. Amanda turned around.
"You should get back to sickbay...on the double. You just came back from the dead."
"I feel fine," Jason said. Scarey part was that he looked fine too.
"I don't care. You should be resting, you just died...or did that fact slip your mind?"
"No, although your nursing staff said I as in excellent health."
"Jason..."
"Whats the worse that could happen I could die again? Both docs and all the nurses checked me out, I'm fine."
"I dont' like this, you should be resting."
"They confine me to my quarters."
"Fine, take your station. This isn't over with Lt. Barrett," Amanda said, letting some edge creep into her voice.
Jason nodded and headed down to ops to take his station. Once he was there Amanda asked for an update on the Klingon ships.
"They are still holding thier positions. Since when did they get here?"
"You miss alot when you are dead," Grayson commented.
"Guess so."
OFF: Tag All!
<Bridge, 1620, Day 1>
"They're changing course."
Amanda nodded, looking back at the screen. The doors to the bridge opened, admitting Jason Barrett. Amanda turned around.
"You should get back to sickbay...on the double. You just came back from the dead."
"I feel fine," Jason said. Scarey part was that he looked fine too.
"I don't care. You should be resting, you just died...or did that fact slip your mind?"
"No, although your nursing staff said I as in excellent health."
"Jason..."
"Whats the worse that could happen I could die again? Both docs and all the nurses checked me out, I'm fine."
"I dont' like this, you should be resting."
"They confine me to my quarters."
"Fine, take your station. This isn't over with Lt. Barrett," Amanda said, letting some edge creep into her voice.
Jason nodded and headed down to ops to take his station. Once he was there Amanda asked for an update on the Klingon ships.
"They are still holding thier positions. Since when did they get here?"
"You miss alot when you are dead," Grayson commented.
"Guess so."
OFF: Tag All!
<img src="http://ussmalinche.kersare.net/images/bltcdr.jpg">
Lieutenant Commander Amanda Darkhelm
Chief Medical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
Lieutenant Commander Amanda Darkhelm
Chief Medical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
<<USS Malinche>>
<Bridge, 1620, Day 1>
Jason watched his displays intently as the Klingon ships maintained thier positions away from the planet...at least for the time being. He wondered what was going on the surface.
He wondered even more why he was still alive; although the answer was as plain as day to him. It was the symbiote...the war that he thought they had avoided apparently was now on the verge of exploding. And according to his vision, Celtron was the fracture point, the point at which the whole war branched off from.
"Commander I'm detecting something launchign from the surface...a big something. Its coming from the eastern ocean."
"A ship?"
"I would guess so...I really don't know what it is though...sensors aren't able to completely penetrate its hull. Heavy armor though and what look like several dozen weapons batteries."
"Heading?"
"Right this way...here they come."
They watched on screen as the dark triangle ship broke the atmosphere, plowing toward a point near the planet.
"Detecting what could be weapons start up," Jason said.
"Sheilds up."
No sooner had Amanda spoken did golden colored weapons fire lance from the unkown vessel and rock her smaller frame. The ship continued past they disappearing in a flash of light as it entered some sort of subspace rift.
A massive shockwave hammered at the Malinche, causing her to shudder like a ship caught in a storm.
"We've been caught in some sort of subspace slipstream."
"Full reverse," Amanda ordered.
OFF: Tag All!
<Bridge, 1620, Day 1>
Jason watched his displays intently as the Klingon ships maintained thier positions away from the planet...at least for the time being. He wondered what was going on the surface.
He wondered even more why he was still alive; although the answer was as plain as day to him. It was the symbiote...the war that he thought they had avoided apparently was now on the verge of exploding. And according to his vision, Celtron was the fracture point, the point at which the whole war branched off from.
"Commander I'm detecting something launchign from the surface...a big something. Its coming from the eastern ocean."
"A ship?"
"I would guess so...I really don't know what it is though...sensors aren't able to completely penetrate its hull. Heavy armor though and what look like several dozen weapons batteries."
"Heading?"
"Right this way...here they come."
They watched on screen as the dark triangle ship broke the atmosphere, plowing toward a point near the planet.
"Detecting what could be weapons start up," Jason said.
"Sheilds up."
No sooner had Amanda spoken did golden colored weapons fire lance from the unkown vessel and rock her smaller frame. The ship continued past they disappearing in a flash of light as it entered some sort of subspace rift.
A massive shockwave hammered at the Malinche, causing her to shudder like a ship caught in a storm.
"We've been caught in some sort of subspace slipstream."
"Full reverse," Amanda ordered.
OFF: Tag All!
![Image](http://ussmalinche.kersare.net/images/rltcdr.jpg)
Lieutenant Commander Jason Barrett
Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
<<USS Malinche>>
<Bridge, 1625, Day 1>
The Malinche shook and shuddered as her massively powerful engines tried to break them free of the slipstream. The red alert klaxon was blarring in earnest now.
"Full reverse is having no effect," Jason responded. "Hull intergrity is down to 89%. If we keep full throttle like this we'll blow ourselves up."
"Stop full reverse, Jason..."
Amanda was knocked off her feet as the ship shuddered again, this time titling wildly to the left. Sparks exploded from several stations and everyone that was sitting struggled to stay in their seats.
"If you're about to ask me how to break free I have a theroy...."
The whole bridged felt like someone had decided to shake every circuit loose, causing another symphony of sparks to come tumbling out of panels and conduits.
"About that theroy Mr. Barrett," Grayson said, getting back to his feet.
"A burst for our main delfector might be able to create enough interference to pull us free, I have't located the epi-center I should be able to seal it off with the same burst."
"Then get to work on it."
"Already..."
The next hit was the worse one yet. The Malinche titled violently upwards, heaving as if someone large horse had kicked her on her ventrel side. Explosions ripped through the bridge, kicking out the ventilation systems.
"Hull breach on deck 4, emergency force fields are holding," Jason reported. "Hull integrity is down to 70%."
"Get to work Mr. Barrett."
OFF: Trying to move things along as best I can.
<Bridge, 1625, Day 1>
The Malinche shook and shuddered as her massively powerful engines tried to break them free of the slipstream. The red alert klaxon was blarring in earnest now.
"Full reverse is having no effect," Jason responded. "Hull intergrity is down to 89%. If we keep full throttle like this we'll blow ourselves up."
"Stop full reverse, Jason..."
Amanda was knocked off her feet as the ship shuddered again, this time titling wildly to the left. Sparks exploded from several stations and everyone that was sitting struggled to stay in their seats.
"If you're about to ask me how to break free I have a theroy...."
The whole bridged felt like someone had decided to shake every circuit loose, causing another symphony of sparks to come tumbling out of panels and conduits.
"About that theroy Mr. Barrett," Grayson said, getting back to his feet.
"A burst for our main delfector might be able to create enough interference to pull us free, I have't located the epi-center I should be able to seal it off with the same burst."
"Then get to work on it."
"Already..."
The next hit was the worse one yet. The Malinche titled violently upwards, heaving as if someone large horse had kicked her on her ventrel side. Explosions ripped through the bridge, kicking out the ventilation systems.
"Hull breach on deck 4, emergency force fields are holding," Jason reported. "Hull integrity is down to 70%."
"Get to work Mr. Barrett."
OFF: Trying to move things along as best I can.
<img src="http://ussmalinche.kersare.net/images/bltcdr.jpg">
Lieutenant Commander Amanda Darkhelm
Chief Medical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
Lieutenant Commander Amanda Darkhelm
Chief Medical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B