EP 6 - ACT IV
MEDICAL FACILITY, PASSENGER SECTION
O'Hara's team stepped out of the plush turbolift into a
plain, domed circular area, about ten metres in diameter.
A couple of seconds later, the doors of the
turbolift entrance to their left also opened to reveal the other half of her
search party.
The floor, walls and ceiling before and all around them were
white, as were the outside turbolift doors.
There was a large, multi-coloured starburst floor mosaic in the middle
of the open area - O'Hara immediately recognised it as the insignia of the
Federation's United Medical Association.
Low lighting came diffused from every other of the many vertical
recessed panels running around the circle's pelmet, casting light downwards.
Looking around, O'Hara saw there were four sets of lift
doors in total, spread around her half of the circular area.
Halfway across, wide corridors bled away
left and right - both devoid of light and power.
The wall on the opposite side of the circle was dominated by an
unidentified darkened object in the middle that stretched from floor to
ceiling, flanked by two large rectangular entrances, both unlit.
"Let's go," O'Hara moved them all forward.
As they proceeded, lights beyond the two
darkened entrances ahead began to wink on.
The curious object in the middle glowed into life, backlit by red neon
with golden light beamed onto its front from above - it was an impressionist
sculpture of the standard Federation medical symbol; two serpents coiled around
the winged penitent . Beneath was some
kind of memorial placard with the words "I place my trust in God".
Flanking the statuette were two arches that led into the
medical facility. The area on the right
was very obviously the crash medical treatment area as O'Hara could see treatment
beds just a few metres inside - though a moveable solid screen it seemed could
be dragged across the front in order to hide any gory scenes from the
passengers. The entrance to the left,
slightly wider and more inviting, gave way to a large reception console and
waiting area, with plush consultation bays and corridors leading onward
beyond. At first, everything looked
intact - it seemed to be a huge facility compared to most sick bays she'd
visited, comparing more to small Starbase medical facilities.
"Okay, Hensil - your group search the area to the
left. You know what to look for -
medicines and any useful treatment devices," the Lieutenant eagerly
trotted into the right hand area.
The first thing she noticed was that the sensor cluster above
the main diagnostic bed was missing, optical cable ends and twisted metal
dangling down from the concave housing.
On the bed below it, the main treatment assembly was also removed.
The other surrounding beds appeared to
retain their integral status displays, but all the LCARS screens were blackened
and inactive.
Her group spread out, moving into the space beyond - O'Hara
could see at least two wards of eight beds, and corridors and offices leading
off to her right. Ahead was the ICU
staff office and beyond that a wide corridor with signs to various
departments. The helpers worked fast,
opening drawers and cupboards of the scattered units.
There were many storage spaces but, it seemed, very few contents.
The Lieutenant stayed where she was and let her people bring
the items to her for analysis.
Ironically, a dental pick was the first item to arrive, and she glowered
at the volunteer who had brought it. It
was hardly something she could treat people with - though reminded herself that
long-term, dental treatment would become a necessity.
She cast the thin metal strip to one side.
A complicated eye lens application device
arrived next - its power cell missing: such devices were normally used for
cosmetic purposes only, and again O'Hara couldn't think of an immediate use for
it.
The girl called Penge brought a more encouraging looking
armful of thin plastic boxes, and the contents of one scattered onto the
floor. She crouched to help pick them
all up: medical history cards - hand-written - by the look of it, although
there was one square box that contained sachets of something.
Hoping to find medicine, O'Hara pulled one
sachet out, reading the label in astonishment.
"Herbal tea?" the Lieutenant flushed red and Penge
just shrugged and trotted away into the first of the wards.
O'Hara would normally have found it funny,
but reminded herself that her shopping list of necessities might barely be
touched.
Hensil came up behind her, carrying a very large, very heavy
metal storage case, strengthened by a ribbed frame.
"This looks more like it," O'Hara became
excited. Hensil heaved it on to the
diagnostic bed with the Lieutenant's help and she released the catches.
Opening it, the Lieutenant's face
dropped. Inside was a standard LCARS
user-interface panel and display screen in the 'lid'.
There was a space for the insertion of data chips via flip-down
side access, and ports for networking with mainframe systems.
O'Hara activated the power cell and the
splash page faded into life.
"A portable medical database," she stated
blankly. "What the hell am I going
to do with that?" She realised
Hensil had taken it personally and patted him on the arm.
"Not your fault," she half smiled.
When he'd gone, she realised no one else had paid her a
visit for a while. Things did not look
good. She moved behind the diagnostic
bed and over to a workstation, wondering what computer capability the area
had. She pressed the panel, but a
singular message flashed up: 'Medical Interface Unavailable, Please Contact
Main Bridge For Service. Battery Power Levels At Minimum.
Life Support Failure In 00:51:23:03'.
The countdown was whirling around.
* * *
MAIN ENGINEERING, PASSENGER SECTION
Leonard's and Lirik's respective groups had to vacate their
turbolifts some distance ahead of their goal, finishing the journey on
foot. The limited computer interface
advised them that engineering was deemed inaccessible to humanoid life and so
wouldn't grant them access via turbolift.
Indeed, as they approached, they found a thick fog of coolant spewing
into the corridor, and had to don helmets and gloves to get through it.
The fog thinned slightly as they stepped through the main
archway into engineering, but visibility was still down to just a few metres as
the gasses lingered in the stagnant air.
Lirik kept the volunteers together while Leonard searched the space for
the manual vent controls.
"This place is huge," Leonard said through the
helmet speakers. "I can't even
find the damned warp core." There
was a pause, then Leonard whistled - causing a few volunteers to wince from the
loud sound suddenly in their ears.
"I think I just found it."
Lirik was growing impatient.
He noticed several wall-mounted read-out displays within walking
distance and shuffled over to them, the others wondering what he was
doing. "I've found an active
computer terminal," Lirik announced.
"It's a standard status display - shows deuterium tank levels…
there's not much here. It's practically
down to empty, in fact."
"If I know this ship, and I'm beginning to understand
it a lot better now," Leonard said almost proudly, "we should be able
to supplement that by tapping into the Command Section's tank.
Oh, how quaint.
I found the atmospheric controls.
Ugh!"
"What is it?" Lirik looked around, concerned by
Leonard's outburst.
"Just…the damned…lever," he said then exhaled
loudly. Lirik could hear the 'clunk' of
the lever's movement echoing around the engineering deck through his
helmet. A loud hissing grew in
intensity, and the mists began to swirl around.
Gradually, the layer of cloud thinned and Lirik could make out
the stylised design of the main engineering area.
It looked like a strange fusion of Earth's industrial age
technology and 24th Century technology.
Overall, the space was laid out in much the same way as Starfleet
engine rooms, but the feel of the place was more in keeping with the engine
room of an ocean-going steam vessel of the 20th Century.
No bright glossy surfaces here, but dark thick-looking metal
surfaces bordered with brass and chrome tubes and pipes.
Each wall panel was riveted and the deck was
not carpet, but a mixture of wooden floorboards and linear metal grilles.
Metal galleries ran along both sides
overhead, and industrial lights were distributed along the walls and ceilings.
While there were lcars interfaces here, they
were discretely contained within period-looking furnishings.
To add to the antiquated feel, supplementing
the modern computer display screens were old fashioned brass guages, valves and
dials. Lirik's gaze fell upon the large
figure of Leonard just a few metres away, standing next to a bank of two metre
long levers thrusting at different angles out of the floor.
The floor ahead of the main controls dramatically dropped
away to form a huge bowl shape and within it there was the huge reaction
assembly - a warped hour-glass shape with its ribbed casing twisting like
candy-cane around the core. It was far
more intricate in design than the assembly of the Command Section.
Here, it graduated from the floor of the
'bowl', coning up like a slender, twisting volcano, to a small 'bubble' (the
dilithium chamber) and then funnelling out again, twisting up until it was
flush into the concave ceiling. There
was no visible shaft either above or below - it seemed fused into the walls of
engineering itself.
The assembly's power transfer conduits shot out of the back
of the bubble - thick shafts of dead-looking glass were wrapped in thick straps
of metal, bolted together by what looked like huge rivets.
"This place looks more like the Titanic than a modern
starship," a deep, manly southern accent commented at the evenly spaced
huge columns that supported the vaulted ceiling, and the smooth edged, chunky
moulded workstations.
"Don't take your helmets off just yet," Leonard
advised. "Air supply won't be
ready for a few minutes." The big
German was looking for a way to get up to the reaction chamber.
He had thought the warp pit of the Command
Section strange as access to the chamber, but he couldn't see how on earth it would
be practical to have this assembly with the chamber raised so far off the deck.
A squeeking sound from the right gave him the answer as
Vostaline wheeled a portable gangway over.
Lirik approached, both eyebrows raised.
Leonard made the quick ascent up the metal steps and gripped hard as
Vostaline manoeuvred the contraption closer to the chamber.
Leonard found a small four-button control
clipped onto the top rail and selecting the appropriate command a short plank
extended from the gangway, stopping just under the dilithium chamber.
Leonard carefully walked forward, scared
that his bulk would cause the plank to snap or the gangway to topple over, but
it held (the structure in fact weighted with heavy with Troxian Lead).
"Thank God," Leonard exclaimed, having opened the
drawer - although no crystal was in place, the dish underneath contained six
fat ones. Just to be sure, he
tricordered them - they were perfect.
Quickly clipping the largest into place, he closed the drawer and ran
down the steps and over to the main controls, housed in a cross shaped
hip-height console.
The display read: ' Battery Power Levels At Minimum.
Power Failure In 00:46:18:00'.
He looked up at Lirik, his face
flushed. "It will be a push, but
we should be able to start up the core before battery power runs out."
"Oh, that is good news," Lirik was relieved -
though it sounded like sarcasm. He
tapped his communicator. "Lirik to
O'Hara."
Static replied.
Leonard touched his arm and pointed to the console - specifically a
small square comm panel. Lirik pulled
off his helmet and pushed the panel, coughing once.
"Lirik to Sick Bay," he said.
Some distance away in the medical facility, O'Hara touched
the nearby comm panel in response.
"This is O'Hara, how are you doing?"
Lirik took a few breaths from his helmet.
"Mister Leonard is going to attempt to
re-start the passenger section's engines."
He coughed again twice.
"I hope he has better luck than us," O'Hara
stated, holding up a box full of used surgical tights and saline capsules.
* * *
UNKNOWN LOCATION, COMMAND YACHT
Christian peered into the corridor - no sign of the
creature. He spied a comm panel winking
on and off and walked toward it.
"Captain Christian to the Bridge!" he said.
"Captain?!" Jackson's voice shouted in
surprise. The ship shook again.
"Where are you?"
The Captain smiled to himself.
"I have no idea.
What's going on?"
"Well…" Jackson cocked her head, not sure where to
begin.
"Shields down to 15 per cent and falling!" Reb's
urgent voice cut off any further explanation.
"I'm on my way!" Christian shouted.
"Captain! Come
to Engineering," Jackson said.
Christian was thankful when the turbolift responded and the
doors parted - he was even more thankful seeing the small blue voice-interface
indicator bright blue and alive.
"Main Engineering!" he ordered.
The computer warbled a short warning.
"Command Yacht is in separation mode, access to Main Engineering is
not possible."
Christian frowned.
"Is Yacht Engineering available?"
"Affirmative," the Computer responded efficiently
and shunted the turbolift car on its way.
Presently, Christian stepped through the doors and turned
the corner toward the small engineering area.
He was pleased to see Narli and the groaning, moaning, head-hugging
injured figures of Murak, Warnerburg, and some other person he hadn't met yet
leaning against a wall in the small space.
The two Klingons Kluless and Karless stood on either side of the short
passage between engineering control and the warp core, apparently watching over
something.
"Last thing I know is I was on my way to the
bridge," Christian explained.
Jackson licked her lips and summarised the situation.
"The agent tore the Command Yacht from
the rest of the ship and took us on a heading back to K'Tani space.
We were supposed to rendesvous with a group
of K'Tani ships, but we managed to regain control in time - those ships are now
in pursuit and firing at us."
"'Agent?'…" Christian saw Jackson's eyes flick
toward the Klingons and he stepped around the support column to see their
bizarrely impaled captive.
"An android…" Christian whispered.
"Ha!" the girl tried to laugh with a mechanical
echo, still leaning back precariously with the Bat'Leth sticking out of her
head. Her other eye was beginning to
clear now as well, and she seemed to Jackson to be sounding a lot less hurt.
The strange site did nothing to deter Christian as another
volley hit the Yacht. "Tell us
their weaknesses," he demanded.
"I'll do no such thing," the girl retorted.
After a pause she said: "I see she
didn't eat you then?"
"Eat me?" the Captain went a little ashen.
Jackson didn't understand, and thought it best not to ask
right now, nodding toward the agent.
"I made a deal with her.
Her freedom for the command codes."
"You're Kidding?!" Christian couldn't believe
it. He remembered his crew and the
survivors and looked around at the small group.
"Was everyone else left on the main ship?"
"No, the other bridge crew are standing by in escape
pods," Jackson said feebly.
"Look, I hate to break up the little reunion, but our
shields are down to 8 per cent," Reb huffed his protest.
"Do we have weapons?" Christian asked.
Narli shook his head and glared at Pim.
"We can't be sure, she used the
holographics on board to make it seem as if the ship was in full working order,
although now it seems we've regained partial control for real.
This readout says there are no
phasers."
Murak and Warnerburg were huddled around a control
console. "Sir, I think we can shut
down all holographics now."
"Do it," Christian demanded.
Bleeeep dah bleep blip.
Nothing seemed to change.
"Anything?"
Warnerburg bit her lip and shook her head in
uncertainty. "I really can't be
sure without running a full diagnostic."
The ship rocked. Reb
cursed, looking at the display showing the positions of the pursuers in
relation to the Fantasy. "I'm all
out of evasive moves - they've spread out and got every angle covered.
Two or three more shots and our shields,
such as they are, will collapse."
"Keep up those evasive manoeuvres, mister,"
Christian yelled, running out of the room.
Reb was flummoxed once again to be left 'in charge', but
took the helm, navigation, shields and every other control in check.
Christian waved Jackson and Narli to assist him as he jogged
to the turbolift. "Computer, where
are the aft phaser arrays?"
The doors opened.
"The aft phaser turret is located on deck 6."
Hauling his companions into the turbolift and closing the
doors using the iconographic button on the control panel.
"Computer, take us there."
The turbolift bonged and they were away.
The ship rocked slightly, and Christian
thought to himself: 'two more hits and we're done for'.
* * *
COMMAND SECTION, BRIDGE
Lirik stepped out of the turbolift onto the small bridge
deck for the Command Section along with Vostaline and Souveson.
The area was already known to be fully
functional and intact, so they had decided to travel there rather than to the
Passenger Section's unexplored turret-mounted bridge.
"Very chic," Lirik commented at the Deco décor.
The Ensign made her way to the power room as she had several
days previous - she was at first shocked to see the switch was no longer in
isolation mode, but she then remembered it was Hedrik who had turned it off
only to be confronted with the holographic K'Tani.
Walking back onto the bridge Souveson's eye was distracted
by the tapes in the Captain's office to her left.
She was very keen to go exploring, but so far their situation had
always taken priority. She hoped it
wouldn't be for much longer.
Lirik had sat himself at the helm, while Vostaline sat at
engineering. Souveson made her way to
the science station, thinking that would be the third best interface to help
her continued search using internal sensors.
Initial sweeps had shown no trace of the agent and she was wondering if,
after they ramped up the power from the passenger section warp core, she would
be able to refine the search parameters.
"Plugging us in," Lirik said, selecting the
relevant power mode panel on the helm board.
With one touch it switched the bridge from standby into action, lighting
up each workstation. The local
subprocessors quickly tapped into the mainframe network, the computer core
filtering back what systems were available.
Three displays lit up on the same right hand area of the
Yeoman's forward workstation showing the warp network, the control network and
the comparative primary indicators for both sections of the ship.
Lirik could see that Leonard had already
rigged the warp power network to originate in the Passenger Section with fuel
taps from the Command Section. Moving
to the second panel, Lirik touched their current location, and instantaneously
the entire control network was centralised to their position.
The patching seemed over-simple for a ship
that had proven thus far so complex, but in minutes the essentials to running
the ship (and navigating it) were flashing 'standby', ready for warp power to
come on line and feed the power-starved areas of the ship.
Lirik said: "Not long to go now, girls."
The Ensign raised her head at this, thinking the remark not
only inaccurate but highly sexist. As
the Yeoman pressed the command to prepare to switch from generators over to the
eps network feeding off the Passenger Section, the ambience of the bridge
changed.
"Leonard to Command Bridge," the voice spilled out
over the speakers impatiently.
"Lirik here, Commander," the Yeoman tapped his way
casually through the systems that were available, and noted that the Passenger
section was down to 22 minutes of emergency power.
"Sounds like you don't need your helmets any more."
* * *
PASSENGER SECTION, ENGINEERING
A dozen or so unhelmeted volunteers buzzed around the German
engineer as he surveyed the situation onto the emergency systems board, inset
into an ornate round wooden table, raised at an angle.
He scanned the read-outs.
He seemed relieved to hear the Yeoman's English accent.
"Oxygen tanks are now fully operative
in this area, so things are a little easier down here," the Lieutenant Commander
said, thankful to be breathing processed air rather than his own recycled
breath.
He continued: "Power-up sequence is proceeding to
schedule, though we've had a few problems.
For one, the CS to PS taps were not functioning, so we've had to pump the
deuterium through from the Command Section manually.
Dilithium crystal alignment was off by a fraction, but I've
managed to rectify that also. We're now
raising engine pressure, it'll be about another twenty minutes before it's all
on-line."
"Commander," Lirik's English voice clipped the
word harshly, "In twenty minutes you'll be out of emergency power."
Leonard smiled. He
loved it when the Yeoman was proven wrong.
"That’s a negative, Bridge.
I've re-routed Command Section generator supply to this engineering area
only, so that should give us a few minutes more.
But it would help if we could shut off life support in the
medical facility as well. Can you get
O'Hara's group out of there?"
"Acknowledged," Lirik's voice signed off.
* * *
PASSENGER SECTION, MEDICAL FACILITY
"Bridge to Lieutenant O'Hara," the voice echoed
around the white walls of the sterile area.
O'Hara had left Hensil in the reception area to screen the
equipment brought by the other scavengers while she had gone on a little walk-about
of her own. She was mightily impressed
by the extent of the facility.
Originally she had thought it just a few wards and labs off the two main
reception areas, but behind these she had found a warren of treatment rooms and
specialist surgeries that spanned across to another reception area on the other
side of the facility. She hadn't had an
opportunity to search the north and south 'wings' yet, or follow the signs to
the maternity and paediatric areas on the deck above.
The Lieutenant vacated the second of three sparsely
furnished dental treatment rooms into a main corridor and located a comm
panel. She received a light electric
shock as she depressed the button.
"OW! O'Hara
here," she sucked the hurt finger.
"Mister Leonard needs to conserve all available energy,
could you now make your way back to the Command Section?" Lirik's voice
sounded more of an order than a request.
"We haven't searched even half the facility yet,"
O'Hara tried her best not to sound too moany, but no medicines of great help
had as yet been located.
In a few private moments since Christian's morning address,
she had considered that, should they manage to get the ship working and have
some semblance of order over the next few weeks/months, she would be required
to behave just as any full-blown Chief Medical Officer would.
That meant the routine care and
specialist/emergency treatment of everyone on board.
Moreover, she was probably going to be responsible for this large
facility and the management of all its staff and needs - and as a part of the
Command Crew, she had full accountability.
So upsetting the Chief Engineer wouldn't be a good start, despite the
fact her party had so far been so unlucky.
"Can you give us ten more minutes?" she
asked. As she finished speaking, a
brief spell of intense nausia washed over her and she had to swallow saliva several
times.
"You've got five, ma'am," Lirik signed off
casually but without any further discussion.
O'Hara leant forward, bending over and placing her hands
above her knees. She breathed deeply
several times. Several tresses of red hair dropped from its pinned back place.
"Are you not well?" a voice came from behind.
It was Kidron, the old Klingon warrior who
had been sent as one of two 'protectors' of the medical search party.
Not a few minutes earlier, the ancient grey
haired man had discovered what looked like a bejewelled fishtank.
It was sited off one of two bare surgery
theatres and patched into main power, but without the sufficient energy to run
local systems, no one had been able to identify what it was.
"I'm fine," O'Hara straightened and felt a little
giddy. "Tell the others we've got
five minutes."
He nodded and walked away.
The Lieutenant swallowed and licked her salty dry lips.
"It can't still be a reaction to the
Ere, surely," she said to herself and then put it down to lack of food and
nervous tension.
* * *
COMMAND YACHT, DECK SIX (AFT)
Exiting the turbolift, the first thing Christian's party saw
was a large storage recess in front of them, its containment shutters pulled
back to reveal piles of broken equipment, and some larger items covered with
dustsheets. Christian logged them for
future reference, but broke right in a quick jog to the back of the vessel.
Passing by a set of toilets on his right and
storage facilities to his left, just ahead was a thick-looking door with the
words 'Aft Phaser Turret: No Unauthorised Entry', standing alone between two
distant escape pod entrances in corridors left and right.
The door would not respond when approached, so Jackson
dramatically phasered the lock using Narli's borrowed weapon.
It took the combined strength of all three
of them to heave the large door aside.
Beyond was a large room empty of anything, save an almighty looking
contraption of years far more senior than the Commodore and Narli put
together. Indeed, it was even covered
in a thin layer of dust, but seemed surprisingly intact for something its age.
Christian climbed up onto the back of the turret, a five
metre high slightly tapering structure of a granite-looking material that
angled and curved its way into the rear wall.
It reminded the Captain of an enormous bishop chess piece that had been
embedded into the wall of the room itself.
The gunnery pod's entry hatch was un-secured and Christian pulled it
aside, peeking around first before clambering in.
All systems seemed intact - a much-worn leather chair hung from
the ceiling along with eye-level displays on angle-poise arms, and a wide, arc
shaped display thrust out from the wall to hand height above a set of manual
directional pedals. If Christian was
correct, the entire pod would move in sync with the guns themselves.
He checked the warning signs clearly positioned
on either side of the chamber's walls indicating the maximum ranges of the
turret.
Christian heard Jackson's curses as Narli tried a third
attempt at hauling the large Commodore up onto the entry ledge.
The Captain slid into the plastic seat and
activated the internal power via a capped flick-switch in the centre of the main
controls. Immediately the workstation
glowed into life, the other lights inside the turret and in the outside room
dimming. The displays flickered on to
reveal targeting grids and sensor read-outs as simultaneously a thin slit
opened at eye level in the pod itself.
The layers of twin-plated flexiglass allowed Christian a physical view
of the outside; he could see the slowly moving stars, but not any K'Tani ships
- they were too far away for Human eyes, thhough were still rapidly approaching
according to the sensors.
"Oh, shit," Christian cursed.
"Problem?" Jackson, slightly dishevelled looking,
eased her large body into the turret and stood behind the Captain's chair.
There was just enough room for Narli to
enter also.
Christian pointed at the phaser power cell status - even
Jackson could see the four bars for each 'gun' were only fractionally
charged. "It would take too long
to charge them," he dropped his head.
"So we've only enough for four, maybe five shots."
"Then we have to think of something else," Jackson
said encouragingly. Christian cast a
brief glare at her.
"Look!" Narli pointed at the shield status.
"Murak must have somehow ramped up the
shield power, it's crept back to 20 per cent."
"That won't hold forever," Christian suddenly had
an idea. He turned to the
Commodore. "I have a plan, but I
won't know if it will work until I see for myself.
Stay here and keep your eye on the display, but don't shoot until
you see the whites of their eyes."
He grinned.
Jackson didn't appreciate the humour, but squidged her wide
seat into the small chair as Christian climbed over her to get out, pulling on
Narli's arm to accompany him. "We
don't even know if they have eyes," she mumbled in protest.
In the corridor outside the room, Christian pointed to the
right. "Check and see if the
escape pod is intact."
The Captain checked out the one to the left - still there
and in working order. Narli called down
the corridor: "It appears fully operational."
Christian beckoned to the Andorian Ambassador to join him in
the nearest storage area. It contained
many crates, most of which were empty.
Signage on the wall gave directions to other stores areas nearby, and
the Captain noted the 'Samples Research Lab' and mineral and chemical
stores. He tipped his top lip with his
tongue and nodded their journey onward.
Around a corner they found a bay full of crates and containers, many
with 'poison' or 'caustic' warnings.
Christian spied at the farthest end of the store room a wall-mounted
frame for pressurised cylinders - a huge honeycomb affair of narrow, deep
tubes, some of which were occupied.
"Help me look for anything highly combustible,"
Christian ran over to the wall, stumbling as the ship shook.
The Ambassador located more than a few differing cylinders
containing a variety of gasses and began to point them out.
"Actually, bring them all," was all Christian said
as he found an antigrav trolley and began loading it with the cylinders.
* * *
COMMAND SECTION, BRIDGE
Several Helan had arrived on the Bridge and were having a
private, rather animated discussion with Vostaline.
She was protesting about something, but the rest of the group
seemed to be in agreement with each other and winning the argument.
Carefully, one of the older men placed his
arm around her - she violently shrugged it off, but still allowed them to guide
her away to the turbolift.
Only one Helan remained - a young woman who smiled an
unconvincing disarming look at Lirik as she took up the engineering console.
"What was that all about?" Lirik asked, curious
about the aliens again, yet remaining conscious of the time ticking by.
"She is not well," the woman said.
"But she is too proud to admit it.
My name is Bedrilla, I have some engineering
experience."
Lirik thought that Vostaline had seemed fine to him, but
then again knew of many such similarly overly dedicated types in the Diplomatic
Corps - himself included.
"Okay, Bedrilla, you know who we all are?" he
indicated the small team of helpers.
The woman nodded and turned to her workstation.
Lirik pulled a ponderous lower-face grimace at the
over-protective Helan, and the cock-sure replacement, but turned back to the
viewscreen to the matter in hand. Long
range sensors had picked up a group of objects travelling at high impulse
toward their general position, but the ionic interference was wreaking havoc
with any kind of accurate readings.
Leonard had had over 25 minutes now and the Yeoman knew they
only had a matter of minutes left.
Lirik ground his teeth in frustration then decided to hit the commpanel
and interrupt the engineer again.
"Bridge to Engineering."
* * *
PASSENGER SECTION, ENGINEERING
"Bridge to Engineering."
Leonard cursed for the umpteenth time in as many minutes at
the incessant voice, but continued working with his current task.
He happily forgave the engineering
volunteers for their constant questions and cross-checking of details with him
as they were inexperienced in such matters, but Lirik was another matter entirely.
"Repeat, Bridge to Passenger Engineering!" the
English accent echoed around the unusual engineering space.
Leonard grunted and slapped the comm panel with the sharp
end of his torque dilation wrench, almost fracturing the plastic coated lcars
surface. A few heads turned away from
the increasingly frustrated German, another decided against their asking him to
repeat the prep list for nacelle calibration for now, turning on their heel and
walking in the other direction instead.
Most of the volunteers had at first considered him quirky, but more
recently he'd shown signs of easy irritation and an occasional nasty temper.
"What is it?? I
am very busy down here!" he snapped, completing the job and walking over
to the main table to check his alterations.
"Just tell me how long," Lirik asked casually
across the speakers.
Leonard shook his head and checked the pressure build up -
they weren't quite there yet, but it would be soon.
"Maybe five minutes," Leonard trotted over to the
dilithium monitoring station - thankfully everything looked set.
Dashing back to the antimatter injector
controls Leonard checked the flow - all set there.
"Maybe you could do with some help," Lirik stated;
he was obviously very keen to get things moving.
"No!" Leonard shouted.
"We're fine, I'm starting ignition countdown from T-minus
180 seconds: mark!" 'That should
get Lirik off my back', he thought.
* * *
COMMAND YACHT, AFT PHASER TURRET
Narli waited patiently for Christian to pre-set the flight
controls of the second escape pod. Once
finished, he turned away from the console and nodded at Narli.
The two men stood back to back, gas
cylinders were lined up on the bench chairs on either side of the pod, all
nozzles pointing in towards them.
"Ready?" Christian didn't look around to
check. "Three, two, one, go!"
Instantly each of them began to twist open each nozzle in
turn, working back down the pod towards the inner hatch.
Gasses hissed and spewed into the small
space, clouding their vision.
They were quicker this time, only 25 seconds.
Christian pushed Narli out into the corridor
and sealed the pod's hatch, then the corridor hatch.
They both gasped for air, though some gas had leaked into the
corridor and caused Christian to cough heavily.
Quickly they made their way back to the phaser turret and found
Jackson intently looking at the screen.
"Where the hell have you been?" she almost
screamed. "Our shields have
finally collapsed, but they've stopped firing at us.
They've increased their speed to get closer - looks like they
intend to board us." She paused
and said in a more controlled voice: "No whites of eyes as yet,
Captain."
"Very good," Christian said encouragingly.
Contrary to his supportive statement, he
firmly grabbed her arm without explanation and heaved her out of the seat.
He hit the manual comm panel, selecting
connection with Yacht Engineering.
"Mister Rebbik," he tried to sound calm.
"How are you doing?"
* * *
COMMAND YACHT, ENGINEERING
"Now that they've stopped firing at us, I'm fine,
Captain," Reb replied, shifting his standing posture and glancing round at
the others.
"I have a request for the engineers," Christian
said. "Any chance of a warp speed
pulse?"
Warnerburg exchanged a worried look with Murak - it wasn't
standard procedure for any space traveller, whether Starfleet or the Romulan,
to try it within such an extensive area of ionised space.
"That isn't possible," the Romulan stated curtly.
"Not so fast," Cally Warnerburg had both positive
and negative experiences of going to warp in ion-soaked space.
"He said he wanted a pulse, not
sustained warp speed. Right,
Captain?"
"That's right, ma'am," the Captain's voice sounded
pleased.
Cally called up navigational displays and set an automated
sensor search for a large enough region in which to initiate the pulse.
She explained to the baffled Romulan:
"Ionic radiation doesn't cover every
cubic metre of this space. If we find a
large enough pocket of unaffected space, we can slow the ship enough to carry
out the manoeuvre within it. The ion
around us will soon collapse the field, but we would have already jumped far
enough to put some distance between us and them."
"Very impressive," the android girl hadn't moved
from her pinned position. "They
won't think you stupid enough to try that."
"What does she mean?" the unnamed engineering
volunteer asked, bemused.
"Because in the time it takes us to slow down they'll
be right on top of us," Karless held back a smile - he hoped the Captain
had a way of preventing their capture.
"We've got a little surprise in store for our pursuers,
Mister Rebbik," Christian's tone was eager across the intercom.
"As soon as Ms Warnerburg has found the
pocket, I need you to make the shortest possible slowing distance to put us
near-stationary inside it. Count me
down if you have to. When I give you
the order, initiate the warp manouevre - and head us back toward the rest of
the Fantasy."
Reb licked his lips.
"Okay," he said unconfidently.
Several seconds later, Warnerburg shook her head,
frustrated. She tapped the comm
panel. "Captain, there's not much
choice here, we're looking at pretty heavy saturation.
The nearest available pocket is fifty
seconds away. But it's not very big, so
we'll have to come to a full stop to stay inside it long enough to complete the
manoeuvre."
Reb looked at the dimensions of the pocket on the display -
the space wasn't much larger than the Command Yacht itself.
He patched the co-ordinates automatically
into the helm controls. He could have
worked it out in his head, but it was so full of fear and trepidation that he
felt the computer would be more reliable.
It flashed the answer instantaneously.
"Okay, I can emergency brake six seconds before the event."
"Count us down to a full stop," Christian ordered
and signed off.
Reb cocked his head back and smiled broadly, trying to look
sure, even though he felt totally uncertain.
By the blank looks around him, everyone displayed an equal and obvious
lack of confidence that he could pull it off.
There was less than a twenty metre margin for error, and most of them
present knew that an emergency stop could run on for a lot longer than
calculated due to variable anomalies.
* * *
COMMAND YACHT, AFT PHASER TURRET
Christian looked up at Narli, who had been whispering an
explanation about what they were trying to Jackson during his
conversation. Jackson had her eyebrows
raised in astonishment.
"What?" the Captain prepped his station, but made
sure not to scan any targets or power up weapons until the last moment.
"You are sure Rebbik can do this?" the Commodore
asked.
Christian slapped his forehead comically.
"That's what was bothering me," he
said. Then screwed his mouth up
sarcastically. "You trust me, don't you?"
Jackson stepped back and braced herself against the circular
pod wall. "Actually, no.
But I don't have much choice in the
matter."
Christian bit his tongue.
Narli was laughing at him.
"What's so damned funny?" Christian didn't get
Andorian humour - ever.
"You take her so seriously, don't you?"
It was true, Christian realised.
The Commodore had a sense of humour bordered on three sides by
sarcasm, insolence and downright obvious truth.
He allowed a private chuckle and shake of the head as he saw on
the time indicator that they were about to know once and for all if the joke
would be on them.
Reb's voice energised the moment.
"Counting down to braking manoeuvre in five…"
Christian glanced at the display, the K'Tani had matched
their course as they had veered toward the pocket and still retained their
diamond formations.
"Four…"
Christian called up the auto-eject control for the two
adjacent escape pods.
"Three…"
"Pray for luck," Christian said.
"Two…"
"Luck won't come into it," Narli observed with a
gentle smile.
"One…"
A brief moment of almost total silence.
"Breaking now," Reb shouted excitedly.
The entire ship lurched and Jackson fell into the back of
Christian's chair - intertial dampners were screaming to keep up with the
violent stopping manouevre. From her
position, embracing the back of the chair she could see the structural
integrity readout peaking also.
"Six seconds to full stop…" Reb's voice stated.
Narli grasped at the rim of the entry hatch, but had to
quickly let go as the door came crashing closed.
They could hear the strain of the ship as Reb fired all breaking
thrusters in an attempt to stop in time.
"Three…"
"Arming weapons," Christian stated.
"Two…"
"Ejecting escape pods," Christian pressed the
flashing key and they heard the shunt and splitting cracks of the holding bolts
exploding. Through the slit in front of
them they could see the pods tumbling into the distance, then auto-navigating
themselves into position.
"What the hell was that?!" Reb screamed, but saw
before anyone could reply. "It's
given us extra forward thrust!"
Christian flushed red - the ejection of two such large
objects had worked against the breaking force, marginally cancelling out the
breaking thrusters. He glanced at the
screen and saw the pursuing ships also slowing, but not yet breaking
formation. On the navigation screen he
could see the Command Yacht was entering the pocket, but too fast.
* * *
COMMAND YACHT, ENGINEERING
Reb had no choice, he ran his hands up the breaking
thrusters and reaction controllers and fired all systems at full pelt.
He watched the perimeter of the pocket get
closer: two hundred metres, one fifty, one ten, eighty… the ship was finally slowing at a
greater speed: forty metres, twenty... ten.
That was it - they had stopped, but only just.
A snapping noise broke any chance of celebration, and Reb
glanced round in time to see the android (who had slid back into the warp core
room during the violent braking manoeuvre) reach behind her head and snap the
Bat'Leth clean off. A part of it was
still sticking out of her mishapen head, but she was now up on her slightly
wobbling legs and throwing Kluless effortlessly across the room.
Karless had pulled a small boot dagger and approached her
with glee.
Reb couldn't believe what was happening, and fought to
remain focussed on his job. Tripping
the pre-set sequence, he armed the warp engines to come on line.
He hit the engage button, but it
failed. "Oh, shit!
We've got a stall in the core."
It would be several seconds before pressure
was up to a warp-capable level again.
A warning sound ominously started up.
The old veteran engineer was onto it.
He caught her shocked look as she punched
the intercom. "Oh my God, they
appear to have the ability to transport through ion radiation.
I'm reading multiple transporter locks
throughout the ship!" Warnerburg shouted.
* * *
COMMAND YACHT, AFT PHASER TURRET
"Come on, come on…" ignoring the words of warning,
Christian was intent upon his own job.
He saw that most of the K'Tani ships had stayed in formation.
Half of the ships had their shields down and
were initiating a transport. They
hadn't bothered with the two small pods coursing at great speed towards their
midst.
Christian instantly armed weapons and locked onto the two
escape pods, now suddenly being scanned frantically by the enemy ships.
"Gotcha!" he laughed at them and fired two volleys
at the pods. Both exploded in a double
white blast of energy, instantly taking out all the unshielded ships and badly
damaging four more. One of the worst
off was in relatively close proximity to most of the others and Christian
guessed it could not stop another phaser blast.
As the others pulled away from it, cleverly sensing it was a
sitting target, Christian fired and managed to take out three of the damaged
ships. The other damaged ship was now
critical, and though the final two were now also damaged, they had extended
their shields around the third.
Christian fired off his final shot, but it was easily absorbed by the
shields.
"That's it, no more juice!"
He punched the comm panel.
"Go to warp - NOW!"
"Nearly there, Captain," Reb's voice nervously
chuckled over the speakers. Christian
was all out of ammo, and it appeared his enemy knew it, for the ships had
dropped their shields and begun another transport.
Christian saw on the tactical display multiple transporter signals
coming from all the surviving K'Tani vessels.
* * *
Reb nervously stood his ground, hoping his death would be
quick. Warnerburg could see he had
taken his eyes off the controls, but she was ignoring the bloody fight taking
place in the warp core, trying not to think about the K'Tani now starting to
materialise in their midst. Signals
were in the green and she initiated the pulse rotation.
As the warp field activated, the
materialising forms flickered, about to be left behind.
"No!" the android shouted, sensing the ship was
about to jump to warp and take her with it.
With impossible speed she backflipped over the resilient Klingon and
dived into the fading transporter beam of the materialising soldier as the ship
jumped to warp speed.
To Cally, it was like looking at an after-image, seeing the
materialisation effect blurred and then quickly disappear into the aft until
nothing was left.
A warning sounded - the field had collapsed, but they were
now beyond the K'Tani sensor range, the ion radiation adding to their
camouflage. Reb snapped out of his
suicidal reverie and brought them to a full stop.
He could see that a relative short distance away, the rectangular
blip of the Fantasy lay ahead, unmoving in space.
Murak checked the internal sensors.
He was smiling and Cally saw for the first
time the cute dimples in his Romulan cheeks.
"Captain, the android's gone."
"Any intruders?" Christian asked apprehensively.
"No, sir," he replied, relieved but confused.
"What happened to them?" Jackson's voice asked.
Warnerburg chuckled, as did the injured Klingons, and to Reb
it seemed a little harsh considering what they had just done.
The old veteran absorbed the impact of a friendly Klingon
slap on her back. "It was like the
reverse of a near-warp transport, Commodore - we engaged engines while they
were still beaming, so they must have rematerialised in open space."
* * *
Just beyond the small pocket of non-ionised space, the
damaged ships gently rolled adrift, energy seeping into space from a variety of
gaping orifices in colourful sparkle trails.
The remainding two, limping around the masses of debris, silently called
off the pursuit, hanging back to pick up any survivors.
Floating amid the still hot wreckage were a
hundred or so bloody corpses, chests ripped asunder and secreting globules of
blood.
Only one figure was moving - a curious, multi-limbed object
flailing about amid pellets of blood and clear fluid.
The android Pim had been caught in the transport beam, her
pattern breaking down and then re-materialising throughout the unfortunate
K'Tani soldier, fusing her positronic systems with his flesh and blood.
Though the unit was unrecognisable it still
functioned at a primary level. Though
she would never be repaired physically, Pim's memory algorithms were still
perfectly intact.
There was only one thought on her mind: revenge.
EPISODE SEVEN "EROWOON - PART I"