Here are some more letters placed in nonsensicle order. I'm gratified by the comments thus far, as always. Y'all don't fail to disappoint!
However, anyone know where Jaeih's been holed up? I like seein' a comment or two from the Rommy side of things...
CH. 4
“Coming up on Sector KL-115, Cap’n.” Bronstien called out from the helm. It was late in the day’s shift, and each of the division officers had elected to modify their duty cycles to be here on the bridge as they entered this dangerous area. Ford was glad of his officers’ commitment. Often it was the more experienced eye that caught the small signs of approaching trouble. The captain glanced to his right at his executive officer.
Mister Thomas had pulled a double shift to be here right now, insisting that Ford take the time and get some rest. The ship’s commander had to be fresh, he’d reasoned as Ford had argued. Yes, Thomas was going to make an excellent XO. Right now, though, he seemed a bit sluggish. Ford turned to his comm officer.
“Mister Smith, order the yeoman up with some coffee. Looks like we could all use a cup.”
Smith responded and did as he was bid. It was not long before the head yeoman and two of his stewards appeared from the turbolift to begin distributing their caffinated wares. The largest cup always went to Mister Davenport. Thomas noted and laughed a bit.
“We need to attach a cup holder on the ops console. Ron drinks too much.”
Davenport held his stainless mug up in salute. “Hey, I’m all for that.”
A shared laugh passed about the bridge. Ford smiled kindly at his main yeoman as the muscular African headed for the aft lifts. The comradery of the ship hadn’t diminished since the crew change. If anything, it had increased. In fact, Ford was very glad of the change in operations. Davenport was so much more amicable than the young lady he’d finally decided to transfer.
“Sensor resolution down to thirty percent, Captain.”
The captain looked over with more than a touch of shock at Surall’s report. He hadn’t expected that drastic of a drop in efficiency. At their current speed of warp seven, it was almost like flying blind. “Helm, reduce speed to warp five. Engineer, direct additional power to the sensor array.”
Responses came from both positions. The low roar of the warp drive cycled down to a softer baritone as the star streaks on the forward screen slowed by nearly half. Beside the captain, Commander Thomas had gotten busy with his own instrument panel.
“Cap’n, interference is located in pockets surrounding each of the plasma strings… They’re dotting the area like walls in some kind of 3-D maze in space. Damn near anything could be hid out here.”
“Ideal for bandits, might you say?” Ford asked.
“Might explain why even the guild doesn’t get out here too often.”
Ford had to agree.
“Excelsiors are still new enough that back water pirates might not know to be scared of ‘em. Someone might decide to take a shot or two at us.”
Thomas nodded, the decision made.
“Yellow Alert. Get those shields up.”
“Yes, Commander.” Came from Lieutenant Nechayev. The high pitched, repetitive warble of the Condition Two alarm sounded off as small yellow spots replaced half of the main lights throughout the ship. With the light level now much dimmer, the control faces on every console now shone out like beacons. Ford could feel the inertial dampeners in the deck kick in to a more powerful setting. This would protect the crew from dangerous falls should the ship meet any…turbulence.
“Tactical, maintain a close scan for threats. See to it nothing sneaks in on our rear.”
“Aye, Keptin. Beginning level two sweeps.”
“Estimated ETA now five hours, twenty minutes, present speed.” Davenport updated from ops, mug still in hand.
“Captain!”
Lieutenant Smith’s voice was particularly excited this time around. Ford whirled his seat to face the comm station. Noah looked over his shoulder at the conn. “Picking up low-band transmissions, ship to ship traffic.”
“Source?”
“Two…now three sources! Two aft at 187 mark 073 and 199 mark 015. One forward at 357 mark 007. Distance indeterminate.”
Ford stood and made for the bridge railing that separated the inner and outer ring of stations.
“Who’s talking out there, son?”
“I can’t tell. They’re using a code I’ve never seen before.”
“Pretty good chance they’re talking about us!” Thomas interjected.
“Who else is out here?” Ford added in agreement.
“Lateral sensor contact.” Called out Surall at the starboard science console. Ford looked back at her long, curving station. The after subspace array definitely was showing something. She went on, her dark face lit by the scrolling readouts she studied. “Two vessels, identity unknown. Approaching from aft at warp factor seven. Their bearings match communication’s triangulation.”
“Are their weapons hot?” Came from Thomas. Ford was already headed back to his seat, expectant of fireworks.
“Indeterminate. However the tri-axial array does show an energy concentration at their bow section. Their deflectors are definitely up. Weapons range in one minute.”
“Red Alert!” The captain decided, now safely in his chair. Behind him he could hear the tell-tales of weapons arming and target acquisition. “Comm, order those ships to wave off.”
“Aye!” Smith keyed the sending controls and held tightly at the microphone piece in his right ear. “Unidentified starships, this is the USS Endeavour. We order you to change coarse. Do not close with this ship or you will be fired upon. Please respond!”
Ford waited as the youth repeated the challenge. Thomas glanced his way. “Targets still inbound, Cap’n.” Ford nodded, eyes glued to the viewer image ops had pictured of the ships closing in on his ship’s rear.
“Captain, no response from either vessel. Comm traffic only between the incoming craft.” Reported Smith. Ford squared his jaw and licked the back of his teeth. He’d hoped to avoid fighting, and had barely thought of bandits hitting them. These were unsettled areas for the most part though.
“Very well, comm. Begin wide-band jamming of all comm signals. Tactical, lock aft weaponry on the foremost vessel and fire as she bears.”
“Aye, Keptin. Target locked!”
There was a note of relish in the Russian’s tone as he’d replied. Ford had heard the same tune in his new XO’s voice more than once. He would undoubtedly be a good gunnery officer, but would bear watching for a while.
“Lead vessel has begun active targeting.” Came from science.
“Target in range!” From Thomas.
“Fire aft torpedoes!”
The alien ship obviously did not have long ranged weaponry. Ford heard a trio of ‘woop’ signals from the tactical computer denoting weapon firings, and counted five seconds without a report of return fire. Three torpedoes angled in on the wedge shaped craft and impacted on its prow. Firelight illuminated every cranny of the ship’s hull and it staggered like a drunkard in its flight path. Sparks of electricity arced down the ship’s length. The damage was quite apparent.
“Direct hit on bandit forward section.” Surall reported. Her voice remained a level monotone. “Several hull breaches detected along with apparent structural buckling. Its forward shields are down.”
Ford nodded with a bit of satisfaction. “Either not very advanced, or not a true warship.”
On the forward screen, purple lances of jagged energy shot out at them. Endeavour rumbled under the strike, but little turbulence disturbed the crew. Ford had felt worse gouges from civilian weaponry. “No effect on aft screens, Keptin.” Nechayev intoned behind the captain.
“Their weaponry is suffering massive output fall-off as the energy passes through their warp field.” Surall said from her post. She had a large blue line schematic of the enemy vessel depicted on her primary panel. The computer was detailing everything useful it could discern from the aft sensor array. The ship seemed to be packing a lot of firepower.
“Early Starfleet ships had the same problem with their phasers before the annular confinement beam.” Thomas was almost muttering tactical data. The enemy’s lack of warp speed weapon power gave Endeavour a distinct advantage. “The second ship has entered firing range.”
“Put another couple of torpedoes into the lead ship. Maybe we can convince them to go home.”
“Aye, Keptin. Firing.”
Another two photons leapt out and smacked the enemy in the face. This time, parts flew from the center of the explosion and the ship began to wobble like a toy. After a moment of this, the forward hull of the bandit shredded into twirling chunks of flotsam and the ship fell from warp. The other moved up to take its place.
“Cap!” Bronstien hollered out from his piloting station. “Plasma fields are narrowing down up here! I’m running out of maneuvering space!”
Ford sat forward in alarm. “You need to reduce speed?”
The pause from the helm did not bolster the captain’s confidence. Johnathan stiffened in his seat and became very measured in his movements about his console. Then he shrugged. “Nope, I got it.”
Ford’s expression turned incredulous. “You sure?”
“Got it, Cap. No problem!” The kid’s hands then began to fly about the controls. The roar from the engines changed pitch and ship’s gravity began to slew to the right. “Thirty degrees port yaw, forty degrees positive pitch!”
Ford clutched the handgrips of his seat as the inertia of the turn threatened to toss him to the deck. One of the white shouldered enlisted hands forward fell flat on his butt and slid to the center of the room. “Your piloting is causing more ruckus than their guns, boy!” The captain yelled. He thought he saw the flash of a smile from the youth.
“Ten degrees starboard yaw, fifty degrees negative pitch!”
The crew’s stomachs lurched upward as the ship suddenly went into a warp speed dive beneath a dense cloud of ionized energy. Ford was glad the viewer was angled aft so he only saw the enormous clouds of roiling destruction in hindsight. The trailing bandit was still following Endeavour, its greater maneuverability allowing it to close in. More purple blasts of energy lashed out at the Starfleet ship. The Endeavour rocked harder this time, this ship obviously not having as much weapon difficulty as its companion did. As it followed through another set of hairy turns with Bronstien calling off vectors all the while, the bandit lashed out with shot after shot. The larger starship slued side to side with these harder impacts.
“Aft shields down to ninety-percent, Keptin.” Tactical reported. “I am having difficulty maintaining torpedo lock on the hostile vith all of the turning!”
“Lock phasers on target. Are they within range?”
“Ten seconds--!”
Another, far more violent blast rocked Endeavour. Ford could tell by the view on screen that helm had just lost a large bit of control. Bronstien stabilized their flight path, but the effect could have been disastrous. The kid paused in his rattle of flight jabber to pass a warning. “Another hit like that one at the wrong time an’ we’re all walkin’ home!”
“Reduce to warp four and bring ‘em in range!” Ford ordered.
Bronstien only nodded his ascent, further changing the engine pitch by a full octave. The vessel trailing them suddenly grew in size as it looped beneath a string of hazy pink energy. They were now in full weapons range.
“Phasers!”
“Firing!”
The aft phaser banks came to life, spitting alternating bolts of phaser pulses at the incoming craft. The streams of weapons blasts pelted the prow of the enemy craft and sent it rattling along its path. Its deflector grid flared under the strain as the rampid torrents of energy passed along its shields. The ship in the viewer grew to enormous proportions.
“She’s passin’ broadside, starboard flank!” Thomas called, excitement rising in his voice. The enemy had just done the worst thing it could have. “All starboard and ‘midships phasers, fire!”
As the unfortunate bandit ship zipped past the silver hulled Federation starship, Endeavour’s main armament came alive, phasers hurling streams of phaser pulses out in front of the craft like fields of ancient flak. The alien bandit staggered nearly to a halt as multiple impacts rained in on it. Entire sections of its hull shattered and internal explosions tore out from within. Its left most, under-slung nacelle exploded into a fiery, plasmic cloud. Before Endeavour’s phaser barrage ended, the craft was whirling into a swirling fog of stellar plasma to Endeavour’s port side.
Ford watched the bandit twirl toward its doom.
“All stop! Tactical, lock forward tractor beams on target and halt their flight!”
Endeavour’s mighty engines growled as they powered down. Bronstien piloted the massive starship closer to its target, careful not to wind up in a plasma string as well. A low hum sounded from the power grid and a shimmering blue field of gravitons snared the uncontrolled bandit. The raiding vessel was now held firmly in the Federation ship’s grasp.
Ford stood and approached the fore railing between ops and the view screen. He looked over the battered, flaming hull of the alien ship. The enemy had set upon them with Lord knew what on their minds. But, Starfleet did not choose men to command their ships who were without mercy. If he could spare these aliens, he would. He glanced back over his shoulder.
“Keep a close watch out for the third vessel communications detected. She might be a bit more stout than these little guys.”
“Aye.” His officers sounded off. He returned his studious gaze to his captive, pondering what to do with them. These ships made their way by preying on those unfortunate enough to wander through this narrow fairway unawares. Inferior vessel without adequate defenses would be picked off and looted, their crews likely taken as hostages, slaves of just murdered. But, these ships and their commanders had likely been operating in this area for some time. Long enough, obviously, to have good knowledge of the plasma strings’ habits and take advantage of its tactical benefit for entrapping starships. The captain had to wonder if this fact might prove useful.
***
Anyway, sling some praise or mud or indifference my way!
--thu guv'!
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