Technically, It's still Christmas (somewhere), so here you all go, its a little late, and (sorry) not wrapped in a bow:
“Cloak effects fading,” K’Tal reported behind him. “Freighter Gold Rush and Tanker Blue Ribbon entering system.” The two massive Clydesdale class freighters showed on the main view screen, closing in on the sixth planet. Blue Ribbon stopped her travels while her dry-goods counterpart coasted ahead on her red glowing impulse drives. “Four Y’Takki vessels are assuming escort pattern…”
“What?” he barked at her, standing and turning around to face her. “They have never escorted us before.”
“The Y’Takki might still be spooked from that Starfleet ship,” Biklis said softly from the helm, hairy paws plotting in their approach course.
He turned, a faint smile playing on his lips. “I doubt that they realize what power any Starfleet vessel might have when compared to their tiny ships.” He resumed his seat quietly and spoke in a soft voice, “they want to risk their lives if that ship comes back, then let them. Offer no assistance if it becomes a firefight.” He smiled deeper, more sinister, and spoke again, “get me all sensor data on that ship, and see if we know who we’re dealing with.”
K’Tal worked her panel silently, and a brief moment passed before he was reading the data for himself on the console between the command chairs. He drew upon years of service with the fleet, watching the form rotate slowly about. Some of the shapes that this ship had were familiar to him, and others not. His well trained eyes found the weapons mounts, docking hard points, life boats… He counted the decks, guessed at the length and width, and found this ship to be an enigma to him. It was, essentially, a light cruiser packed on a large frigate’s hull. Power output was off the charts for a frigate, but then again, Starfleet had been taking leaps and bounds in the field of engine efficiency. She was small, and would hurt when she punched, but he was confident in his ship and crew. Boldly across her hull was plastered her name, Cerberus; the name tickled him inside, and he chuckled softly.
This information amused him to no end, and he made the decision, This ship must be mine.
Perkins almost tripped over the still opening lift door as he entered the bridge with a frantic pace. “The rovers,” he started, nearly out of breath, “the rovers we found… they aren’t surveying the sixth planet, they’re surveying for us!” T’Sala’s gaze followed him to his science panel, Aux 2, with upward arched eyebrows in genuine curiosity.
“How do you know this?” McCloud questioned him with equal curiosity. “And can you prove it?”
“Wait one,” he told her as he busied himself at the panel, augmenting the sensor readings on the recordings, waiting for something to jump out at him. “Bingo!” he said after a long pause.
“‘Bingo!’?” T’Sala asked him, hoping it was a simple explanation behind the phrase.
“Yeah, bingo; as in ‘ah ha’ or ‘eureka’… look,” he pushed a few buttons on the panel, and it chirruped merrily in reply to his commands. The view screen shifted and displayed what it was he found. “We thought that they were simply relaying messages back to their home planet, but part of each transmission was bouncing off of our hull…”
“Like old style radar,” McCloud interrupted.
“Not quite. The radio transmission was enough to mask the probe’s scans.” The screen showed Cerberus orbiting the planet, and each probe’s transmissions were highlighted with white wavy lines. Perkins pressed a control and the image highlighted a separate purple line, directed from each probe directly towards the ship. “There’s more,” he said softly. The screen shifted again to a top-down view of the system, with an extensively drawn grid of purple lines extending around the fourth, fifth and sixth planets, and extending near to where Cerberus sat quietly waiting.
“It seems that they have a partial system wide detection grid set up,” Perkins said. “Set up to be undetectable by standard scans. We met with a village elder. He said that four humans had decided to make this system home.”
“But that doesn’t fit,” McCloud started. “Sensor technology and scanning protocol has changed drastically over the years.”
“Perhaps this will explain,” Perkins said, returning his attention to his now alarming panel. He didn’t have to look to know what was going on, the alarm was familiar to him; it was where things were happening that forced him to look. “An unknown vessel has decloaked near Y’Takki.”
“Too far out to be Romulans,” Michaels said from the helm.
“Klingons or pirates,” T’Sala offered.
“I’ve managed to patch into their sensor net. Whoa…” Perkins worked the controls and the screen shifted to a close up view of a Klingon battle cruiser. “Insufficient data to determine anything for certain, but that’s a see seven hull, I’m very certain of that.”
“Are those Starfleet markings?” Michaels asked. “There have only been three of those ever to serve in the fleet.”
“And only one,” McCloud started, and then sighed softly before continuing, “that wasn’t scrapped for raw materials.”
“Commander,” T’Sala said in a hurried voice. “Using Perkins’ patch, I’ve found the Many De’Oria.”
“When the ships collided,” Jones continued her story in the smallish cave that had been their temporary home in the encroaching night. A faint smile played on her lips as she finished, “the entire simulator room erupted in flames and smoke. Half the saucer was blown off, but we managed to take that Klingon out. We tumbled into another cruiser, destroying us and them.”
“And that was your answer to the unbeatable simulation?” McDougal asked her.
“No, that was my first answer to the K. Maru.” She laughed a little before continuing, “I made three more attempts, the last one I found the Kobyashi Maru, but the Klingons swept in while we were slowed for transport.”
“Poof!” McDougal added with a laugh.
“Yeah, poof. I think we lasted twenty seconds in combat on that run.”
“Well, I only had the honors of running the test once,” he smiled at her in the firelight. “I was the last in my class to take the no win, so I had a lot of stories about what to do and what not to do. But the test administrator either knew what I was planning or had several cadets who were last in line pull what I had planned, so he changed the programming on me. I had to rescue a crippled Klingon frigate that was under attack by a single pirate ship. We took out the pirate no problem, but when two Klingon cruisers showed up, they assumed that we’d come across the Zone just to take out the frigate.”
“Poof!”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I tried to talk my way out of it, but in the end, disruptors spoke louder than words, and down we went, that stupid frigate fired the kill shot.”
He paused a moment, letting her ponder his words. “That was when I created the U.S.S. Hope.”
“That was you?” she asked. “I only heard about that behemoth, we all thought it was a legend…”
“Well, I’ll tell you the whole story, starting with Hope herself.”
“I heard she was some kind of super battleship.”
“Mostly correct,” he started.
Story time stopped abruptly as McDougal’s communicator chirped softly for his attention. He fished the small device from his pants pocket and activated it. Static filled the line, followed by the brief sentence, “Have found shuttle Many De’Oria, stay on the line for beam out.”
A silent moment passed until the familiar tingle of the transporter took them away. Alarms assailed their ears when they materialized on the shuttle, the most worrisome of them was the one indicating that a Klingon Battle Cruiser had decloaked in system.
The question of whether or not anyone had noticed was answered shortly after their arrival as the shuttle rocked gently from a near miss from one of the local craft. A warning message blinked frantically for attention, and Jones read it aloud, “Run to Three.” McDougal deftly piloted the small craft through several weapons discharges, evading them with years of practiced skill.
Many De’Oria was a large shuttle, and boasted similar speed and maneuverability to her smaller counterparts. Added to that was her small warp drive, not ever going to break any warp speed records, but enough to move the tiny vessel faster than light. With a simple button push, the ship left behind her pursuers, and leapt towards relative safety. “We’ll have about six minutes,” Jones started, “before they catch up.”
“I just hope McCloud can rescue our sorry butts in time.”
“Strange that the Klingon hasn’t taken to pursuit yet. I would have figured he would have been all over us.”
“Might have something to do with those two freighters out there,” he replied, pointing at the sensor readouts.
“Starfleet shuttle has gone to warp,” K’Tal said calmly. “Shall we pursue?”
“Negative. Let our protectors protect us from this dangerous shuttle.” He chuckled maliciously.
“Entering standard orbit,” Biklis added.
“Very well. Wait for it Biklis, don’t get too comfortable.”
“Incoming urgent transmission from Y’Takki,” K’Tal said. “They are requesting for us to aid in capturing the shuttle.” Her panel beeped frantically. “Starfleet vessel has reentered sensor range, heading for Y’Takki., high impulse.”
“Open a channel to the planet,” he said while standing. The view screen didn’t change over like he’d anticipated, instead it remained focused on the slowly turning planet below. “Our deal is advanced products for crewmembers,” he said in a cold voice. “One thousand of your best slaves every three months gets you more crap than you’ll ever need. Our deal does not include capturing shuttlecraft. However, I am willing to renegotiate.” He paused to let the words sink in. “Two thousand slaves gets you the shuttle and her crew, three thousand and we’ll remove the Starfleet vessel permanently from your system.”
Again, the screen didn’t change over, but the Supreme Leader’s voice filled the bridge’s speakers. “These are people’s lives you are dealing with!” he shouted, a touch of remorse in his tone. “Do what you must, but I want salvage rights to the ship!”
“Supreme Leader, if you are so concerned with the lives of your slaves, then why enslave the planet at all? You sound as if our deal isn’t fair.”
“Not at all unfair, m’lord, I’m just concerned with the welfare of the slaves, that’s all.”
“As I said when I first came to your people, they will be well taken care of as members of my crew. Four thousand gets you whatever remains of the ship after we’re through, the crew of the shuttlecraft, and a double shipment of weapons and ship components in three months instead of deuterium this shipment.”
“Consider it a deal,” he replied grudgingly. “But when will we have more deuterium? Our stockpiles are running low.”
“Then I suggest you start a conservation program or start harvesting it yourself.” He turned to K’Tal, a wicked smirk on his face, and issued a throat-cut gesture. The line closed as he spoke, “Combat stations! Take us out of orbit, helm. Intercept course, ahead slow. Miss K’Tal, order Blue Ribbon to our position. Charge all weapons to standard, tractor beam to full, transporters and raiding parties to stand-by.” He chuckled maniacally as he resumed his center seat. “Order no casualties, I want that ship and her crew.”
“Holding position,” McDougal said from his tiny helm station. Many De’Oria had stopped after rounding the third planet of Trellious, just far enough to watch events unfold, and to make a clean get away if the situation called for it. “Cerberus has reentered the system, and it looks like one of the freighters and that Klingon are heading to intercept.”
“We passed close enough to scan the freighters and the Klingon. Nothing definite, but it looks like a pirating operation,” Jones sighed and continued her report, “the freighter in orbit is empty, the one that is moving is loaded to the gills with deuterium.”
“Did you say deuterium?” McDougal asked her. “Something familiar about this set up.”
“Cerberus is closing on Y’Takki. Communications are being jammed.”
“Is there any further readings on that Klingon ship?” he hastily tried to augment the sensors to pick up a higher resolution on the bogey.
“All we have is recorded data. We picked up on a see seven hull type, heavily modified. Starfleet power signature, some Starfleet, Klingon, Romulan and Kzinti materials detected on the hull.”
“We can’t see anything from here,” he said, giving up on the sensor tune up. “McCloud better have an ace up her sleeve.”
“She does, look!” The Klingon vessel and Cerberus closed silently in space. As the two ships neared optimum firing range, they veered away from each other, the Klingon ship exposing her weaker rear shields to Cerberus.
“Aw, shoot!” McDougal shouted. His mind finally found the lost bit of data that was stored in his vast memory, forcing his mind to think the unthinkable. Run! a different memory told him as the events coalesced into fact. “Don’t take the bait! McCloud, damn you, keep turning! We can wait!”
McCloud did not hear him. Jones looked at him worriedly. Cerberus turned towards her prey, sealing the deal. Both ships now pointed towards the shuttle. McDougal knew what was next. But he waited, watching impatiently, hoping things would change. Blue Ribbon increased her speed.
“Cerberus has taken the bait, sir,” K’Tal said quietly. “Speed has increased and she has turned to engage. Twenty thousand… fifteen thousand… eight thousand…”
“Emergency reverse!” he barked, and with a jolt the old man jumped backwards. Cerberus began to overtake them, the sudden change in course caught them off guard. Some weapons fired, rocking the old man, making him shudder like a leaf in the wind, but the frigate’s photons never fired, they stayed nestled in their tubes as the older Klingon vessel passed beneath them. “All stop! Engage tractor beam!” The old man halted his movement, and an unseen hand leapt forth to grab the smaller craft. He lurched again under the frigate’s pull, but his own mass kept her from fleeing.
“Remote link to Blue Ribbon has been reestablished.” K’Tal said from behind him. “Changing course, lowering shields for transport… transporting now…” The fluid laden freighter slowly came in from behind them, speeding towards the entangled prey.
“All back emergency!” he said as he watched the frigate struggle like a fly in a spider’s web. “Drop tractor, all available power to shield one!”
Cerberus had fired what weapons she could into the Klingon vessel as she passed over, spreading the damage across several of his shields. Of what remained, the arc wasn’t proper. She began a slow, struggling turn while caught in his grasp. A few more seconds, and the first two of the four overloaded photons would come to bear. “Detonate!” he ordered as the small craft on his screen was eclipsed by the freighter.
Well positioned anti-matter pods disintegrated within the mass of deuterium, their contents hungrily interacting with the fluid, causing an explosive chain reaction that detonated the freighter. Cerberus and the old man shuddered with the force of the blast, the frigate taking the worst of it, but she remained.
“Enemy shields five and six are down,” K’Tal reported.
“Initiate second transport!” he ordered in return. The protective shield dropped as the old man slowed, now moving in for the capture. “Belay that!” he barked, but he knew it was too late as watched on the view screen the orbs of death flew unhindered through the expanding debris cloud. The shield was already down, and there was nothing more they could do but wait.
Four overloaded torpedoes had been chomping at the bit, waiting for the sweet release of launch. Their wish was granted and the salvo leapt from the ship, no longer hindered by line of fire. He smiled in fear as two struck his ship’s hull.
Czar "I like this part, but not as much as the next!" Mohab
Topic: Second Chances III: The Trellious Incident (Read 19205 times)