Sacrificed to Faith
Posted on Sun May 29th, 2022 @ 4:39pm by Lieutenant JG Ryland Dedeker & Lieutenant JG Jaya Maera Garlake & Ensign Nandi Chakma & Lieutenant Colonel Storr Garlake & Lieutenant Commander Finley Chu & Lieutenant Sophie Xiong & Ferrofax & Chief Petty Officer Reggie Hawthorn
2,840 words; about a 14 minute read
Mission:
S1E5: Symphony of Horror
Location: USS Phantom
Timeline: MD 3
"It appears the transport crashed in one piece," Nandi reported from an auxiliary console. "Sensors can't detect much more than that thanks to the jammers."
"That's great, darlin'!" Ryland called out from the helm. "Do me a favor, though, and don't worry about shit we can't help until we can help it."
Nandi frowned at the man, particularly his rank pips, but said nothing. Sometimes being an ensign was the worst.
"Keep watching," Jaya said encouragingly from Nandi's side. "The people on the ground are our top priority after survival."
"Yeah..." Nandi said. "I just can't get through this interference." The sensor readings beeped at her in defiance of her attempts to draw anything useful out of them. "Damn it!" Looking at Jaya, she said, "I'm not going to clean this up by adjusting the settings. We need a creative solution. We need Sophie up here."
Jaya nodded. Tapping her combadge, she said, "Bridge to Lieutenant Xiong. We need you."
“On my way! came the reply.
"I sure hope while our lead engineer is up here there's still someone down there who can reinforce the main deflector since our rear shields are almost gone," Ryland quipped with no shortage of snark. "Otherwise this lil' dance won't last much longer." The ship shook from another direct hit. "Not that they're helpin' much as is. Miss Spook," he said to Fin, "you be sure and lemme know before a bogie gets behind us and fires another shot right up our stern."
While it was unbecoming for the helmsman to be shouting orders at senior officers, but with Storr having spent the past few moments directing shipboard defenses to repel Klingon boarding parties, the bridge had become somewhat of a free-for-all.
“What do you need?” Sophie asked the bridge at large as she joined them. She wasn’t sure exactly who had called her- she couldn’t be bothered to learn people’s voices and besides, she hadn’t been paying close attention as they were in the middle of a fight- and figured whoever it was would speak up quickly. And if they didn’t, well, that was their fault, wasn’t it?
"What don't we need?" Nandi blurted out. "We have Klingons beaming right through our shields, the ground team's communicators are being blocked, our transporters are being blocked, and right now the enemy ships are beating us 3 to 1. Take your pick!"
"I'm working on modulating the shield frequency to restore transport inhibition." Fin communicated calmly from an engineering support station. "Our rear shields are down to twenty-nine..." A well-timed disruptor bolt rocked the bridge, "Twenty-two percent. Aft shield generator three is down. And Ensign Chakma needs to calm down."
“Indeed,” replied Sophie with a glance at Chakma. “Xiong to engineering,” she said with a tap of her combadge as she stepped over to the nearest empty console and input her code. “Get someone down to aft shield generator three right now.”
“Copy,” came the curt reply. They knew Sophie didn’t need a long response from them and rarely gave more than a single word anymore.
Without another word, Sophie began rerouting every last ounce of available power to the shields. “I can still reroute life support from crew quarters if I have to,” she said.
"Yes!" Nandi exclaimed too exuberantly. "If we got everyone into key areas of the ship, then we could reroute more power from life support and environmental control to boost the shields."
Jaya frowned but said nothing. This was not her area of expertise. In fact, she doubted she would even be on the bridge if not for Storr. After talk of cutting life support from crew quarters, she was glad to be where she was.
"I'm runnin' out of sky!" Ryland shouted from the helm. "Reggie? Rommie? Any of the hotties? Gonna' need some tricks soon or we're up shit creek!"
Storr wiped pink blood from the blade onto his thigh, flicking the knife over to ensure that both sides were cleaned as the thick liquid immediately began coagulating and darkening against the black fabric covering his thigh. He reminded himself to add two more notches to the handle as he returned the knife to the boot sheath.
"Ryland, you're doing great...get as low as you can in the planetary atmosphere so there isn't room for another ship to get behind us and hopefully the lack of distance can help us break through this blerrie interference." Walking over to the command chair, the Afrikaner manhandled a Klingon body half-draped over it onto the floor. Taking a seat, he hit the comm rocker.
"Reggie, you need to stop tinkering and start deploying your surprise or else we might be the exploding party favors." Glancing around the bridge, he looked upward towards the ceiling. He knew it wasn't necessary but it helped anchor his mind somewhat to the non-corporealness of the program.
"Ferrofax, I need some ones and zeros put towards getting us communicating with the away team and any extra towards keeping these Klingons off our backs."
Watching as Nandi and Sophi worked, his eyes wandered and rested on his beautiful bride. He caught her gaze and smiled, her pregnant femininity refusing to be diminished in any way both the dead Klingons, blast marks, or screaming tones coming from a multitude of stations around the bridge. As he reveled for a short moment in the gleam of her eyes as she returned the smile, Garlake was glad she was here. His need to safeguard her, however, was roaring that she needed to be a thousand light-years away. Ah, the duality of love.
"I'm ready when you are!" Reggie called over the intercom. "I'm in the aft magazine setting up a site to site transporter link. Now what I need you to do is bump shields with one of those Klingon ships. Give me a count down when you're about 3 seconds from impact so I can get things rolling."
“Hang on!” commanded Sophie, having heard their plans. “You’re just going to bump shields when ours are down to…” she glanced at the readout, “38%?! Well, that’s better than before, but I don’t have any more power I can- wait!” She began furiously punching at the console. “Aligning the main deflector array to the shield harmonics. It’ll sort of reflect the shields and give us more power without actually giving us more power. But it could be catastrophic, so I can only run it for a few seconds.” She glanced at Dedeker. “Make it a five second countdown,” she said.
"Gonna have to give me a minute," Ryland said with a grunt. "I've been doing my damnedest to keep us away from them. Coming about!"
The inertial dampeners strained as the engines on the Defiant-class ship pulled enough G's nearly to sheer the ship in half. While the Phantom repositioned itself for ramming, a burst of malicious shellcode broadcast to the pursuing vessel attempting a flanking maneuver.
PUJ veSDuj
Inquisitor L'rgath Riskadh shielded his eyes from the bright exploding ball that had been the may'roQ, the viewscreen's auto-dimming function seemingly a moment too slow in its application. He growled low under his breath as his nails took purchase into the cold metal of his chair.
"LojmIt Grul, boarding party status," the Klingon said, his attention half diverted as he barked gruff orders rapidly to several other Initiates and Robe bearers.
"Si..sir, no response." the Initiate replied. "From any of them?" Riskadh shot back, his attention now fully on the Initiate manning the tactical station. "No sir."
The Inquisitor stood, his heart beating faster. He hadn't survived an emergency transporter buffer for three weeks and the subsequent month of recuperation to be bested by Starfleet again (and so soon). He ran his hands through his hair and felt a pang of loss as the ponytail that had previously graced his crown was gone; a "corrupted packet" in the buffer he was told. He was grateful to even be alive but the loss of his hair and its inherent status was an open wound that likely would never heal. That pang turned into a cold flame as L'rgath stood, composed.
"We still have a three-to-one advantage. Execute battle formation Omni-Five and have each ship prepare another boarding party. We will get what we came for."
"A British tar is a soaring soul,
As free as a mountain bird,
His energetic fist should be ready to resist
A dictatorial word."
The booming brass section and bombastic vocals came out of the Bird of Prey's bridge speakers like the auditory assault they had always intended to be. Fillings were shaken. Daggers rattled in holsters, Klingon attire vibrated because what was better than a buckle but MORE BUCKLES! On the main screen, the view of local space, chaotic as it was, was partially obscured by bright yellow Klingon script with a bouncing yellow ball tapping each word as it was sung.
"((Come on now)) Ha', 'etlhmey," a snide voice said in Klingon. "((Surely you have heard of karaoke?)) chIch tlhaQ Daghaj'a'?"
One of the clerics at an auxiliary console pounded his fist against the readout. "JabbI'ID law' jabtaH ghopDu'Daj je! ((The song comes from our starboard brother ship!))"
L'rgath wanted to both pull his hair out and laugh. The song blasting over the loudspeaker was beyond jarring but he couldn't help but feel that turnabout it seemed, was fair play.
"The first person to stop that racket gets a month of light-duty!" the Inquisitor bellowed to the immediately scrambling bridge crew. It only took a few moments but just as the song began intoning about heaving bosoms, it ended abruptly as a smiling Klingon with a fistful of sparking wires in his hand stood by the communications console. Riskadh swore that the ship moved several meters from the simultaneously exhaled breaths.
His hands flying over the controls, L'rgath could see that his brothership was foundering beside them. Combat ineffective. He grunted and sat his large frame into the command chair, taking a moment to smooth his robes and regain his composure.
"Now..." he said in a deep, low, and nearly inaudible voice, "QongDaq Turg, bring us about. Retract the command pod boom and warp nacelles. It is time to act in ways worthy of song, not sing them."
The D-39 "Shellback" immediately began transforming, its command boom retracting against the ablative hull while the warp nacelles tucked themselves neatly underneath the plated delta wing. If the small fleet's command ship had seemed formidable before, it now looked downright threatening. It would not be a nut so easily cracked.
"That's one down!" Ryland hooted loud and proud. "Way to go, rookie!" he shouted back to Khaiel. "Not sure what and Ferrofax cooked up back there, but another bird is dead in the water."
"I merely opened their eyes to the glories of Federation culture," Ferrofax purred.
Khaiel just blushed.
"Darlin', I hope you and the bomb squad got your donkey punch ready!" Ryland shouted with both hands pressing the impulse engines as hard as he dared. "We're coming straight up the Klingons' ass!"
A last sequence input and Sophie nodded. “Ready!” she replied, ignoring the crude comments.
"Are all pilots so foul?" Maybe it wasn't the best time for Jaya to hazard a whisper to Storr, but Jaya couldn't help herself.
The Marine chuckled at his wife's quip, glad she hadn't met him in his earlier years. "Everyone buckle up, this could get a little bumpy..."
In a stunning display of precision, Ryland set the Phantom's position next to the nearest Bird-of-Prey, close enough for the deflector screens to start arcing off one another.
"Hold-" Reggie said as he took his finger off the hold button on the transported console.
The transporter buffer discharged through the shield grid, a set-up that not only went against every regulation in the book but would one day find its way into Starfleet Engineerings One Hundred And One Ways To Get Court Martials If Caught Performing manual. It should be noted it beat out using the main defector to carve directional markers in nebulas by dint of working more than once with the same ship.
"-my-"
The matter stream coasted through the shield grid instantly, arcing up into the meeting point between Federation and Klingon shields. At that point the interference between the two planes of steering force cancelled each other out, a fact that was known to all but for the fact you needed to get into 'bite your enemies teeth out' range to use it. Like now.
"Beer" Reggie finished as the aft shield projectors shorted out, handing the load off to the secondary systems as they became modern art sculptures in the 'That Will Coast Real Money' genre of art. (Footnote; Why yes! These are the sculptures flanking the doors to Starfleet's Office of Advanced Design in Oslo, Earth. Named 'Calamity & Catarophy' they are said to instil into the designers at the SFOAD what Starfleet crews will do to their precious designs, to better prepare them for what will happen t their designs once built.)
The transporter room on the rammed Bird-of-Prey activated, much to the amazement of the lone warrior manning the console. What also amazed him was the half meter-sized lozenge that had appeared on the pad. If he had had longer than a quarter second to wonder why the important part of an Mk56 ADCAP Photon torpedo, the variable yield antimatter warhead (dialed up to ELEVEN), was in his line of sight.
He definitely didn't have time to translate the hastily written 'Embrace The Awesomeness' scrawled along the side before it exploded. But we'll give him the benefit of dying with a smile on his face.
The Bird-of-Prey didn't so much as explode, as simply get smash-cut into a glowing sun that baked the hull of the Phantom hard enough that the Starfleet Grey paint job actually charred along one nacelle.
"I'll take my Daystrom Prize in the form of beer and steak," Reggie said as he donned his hat and set it to the an angle decidedly rakish.
“Only if I get half,” quipped Sophie, glaring at the shield readout. “Shields at 312% and falling. They should normalize in a few moments.” She should have stopped the feedback loop she’d created a few seconds earlier. Hopefully, they hadn’t burned the shields out. “That was fun,” she added in a voice that could have been genuine or sarcastic.
Jaya crossed her arms and gave a reluctant, coy smirk. Even she couldn't deny being impressed.
"That was next level, ya'll!" Ryland called out. "But the last bogey is turning about back toward the planet! Their weapons are hot! Anyone got any other magic tricks?" Thinking quickly, he realized there was an added benefit to the overcharged shields. "All hands brace for impact!"
There was no time to ask permission, not if shields were falling. With three times the standard output, there was a distinct possibility the ship's shields would withstand a rear collision with the remaining Klingon vessel. Everyone could die any number of ways, but they probably wouldn't have much time to regret Ryland's executive decision.
In a moment stretched by the full impulse velocity of the Phantom which jumped the ship to three-quarters of the speed of light inside the shallow gravity well of Janner World's, time seemed to nearly stand still. Ryland took a breath to let out a whoop of excited nihilism, but the air barely hit his diaphragm before the ill-fated charge stopped almost as soon as it began.
"Ooof!" Ryland gasped as he slammed against the helm. The internal dampeners had given their all but it had not been enough. "Someone..." he said through groaning, "confirm...on sensors...if that was worth it..."
"Either it worked or we missed it," Reggie said from his console. His hat had gone missing during the micro-jump. "The E=mc2 law is a mean bitch. Sensors are recalibrating after we flash fried'em."
The comm console chirped alive. "Away team to Phantom. This is Qiao. We have the package but are being overrun. Request immediate extraction."
Nandi jumped bridge stations, her cadet senior cruise training coming back to her. "We have a transporter lock!" She beamed with delight. "Sensors are only at 25% but triangulation is showing combadge signals from the entire away team as well as two nearby lifesigns. A Bajoran and...a Corvan?" Nandi made a face but shrugged. No species she'd ever heard of, yet it was a big universe. Nevertheless she set the transporter matrix to full charge in case the interference returned mid-stream. "This is Phantom," she replied to the away team. "Stand by to energize!"
The transporter room behind the bridge suddenly got a lot more crowded.
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