Into The Fray
Posted on Mon Sep 21st, 2015 @ 1:22pm by Captain Julius Whitlam & Commander Elliot Drake & Lieutenant Commander Alexander Gunning & Lieutenant Kaylee Williams & Lieutenant Nicolette De La Croix & Captain Melody Windsor & 2nd Lieutenant Robert Lancaster
Mission:
First Strike
Location: USS Manoora
Main Bridge
“Red Alert,” Captain Julius Whitlam called. “All hands to battlestations.”
A minute later, the Manoora and the fifty-two other ships of the Combined Task Force dropped out of warp and arrived in the Torros System, in Cardassian space. Only moments before, they had received word that the Dominion Fleet had crossed into Federation space en route for Deep Space Nine. Soon after, the signal was lost - a sure sign that the attack was imminent.
Admiral Gilhouly gave the final order to attack and the die was cast. The Dominion War had begun.
Whitlam stood in front of his command chair, unable to sit at a time like this; not when who knew how many of his comrades were about to die. He turned to tactical and spoke to Gunning. “Report, Mr Gunning.”
Gunning finished reading the list for the first time and looked up at the display on the viewscreen. It was even more daunting on the scanners - that was something at least - it wouldn't be too damning for morale. "Looks like a total of five orbital weapons platforms which are in a connected firing arc, along with a fleet. Looks like it's slightly smaller than what we've brought with us."
The captain nodded in acknowledgement and turned to his first officer. "Essentially as we expected, right Number One?"
Elliot nodded as he looked up from his console. As the Manoora sped towards battle, he was busy monitoring systems and personnel operating away from the bridge, along with monitoring incoming orders from the fleet commander. "Indeed, Captain. Let's just hope our intelligence sources manage to stay this accurate."
"Message incoming from the Baltimore, Captain." Everything was so far, so good in Gunning's eyes. "They're starting their run on the far side of the planet. They estimate that they'll be passing into firing range of the orbital platforms in one hundred and sixty seconds."
“Match course and speed with the Baltimore, Ensign,” Whitlam ordered Sel’alla at the helm.
Under the Saurian’s steady hand, the Manoora followed her sister ship in breaking away from the main fleet. Tucked in behind them were the three Klingon birds-of-prey that were their escort. At first, the breaking away of the allied ships resulted in no change to the formation of Dominion and Cardassian warships arrayed against them. But it wasn’t to last.
Gunning noted movement, just ever so slight in the little avatars which represented each enemy ship on his sensor screen. "The ships are breaking formation and pursuing sir." It was all as expected; no real cause for alarm.
An update appeared on Drake's screen. "Sir, Captain Lassiter has ordered the Klingons to intercept the Jem'Hadar ships." He looked up at Julius. "They've got our backs."
Shit! Gunning's eyes darted around his screen as more and more contacts started to emerge. "We've got three Jem'Hadar warships coming up through the planet's orbit. I didn't have them on any intel reports."
The first officer shook his head. "I guess there goes the solid intel."
Whitlam ground his teeth and glared at the viewscreen as it displayed the three extra warships. When Lassiter sent away the escort, he left their two ships to their own defences, which might not be enough against the flight of warships coming at them. He considered launching his fighters now, but quickly decided to keep them back; they were needed for the landing.
“I suppose nobody said it would be easy,” he said as he took his seat and gripped the armrests. “Prepare to engage.”
Main Engineering
"Son of a!" Kaylee cursed out as one of her staff called out a huge energy spike in the shield matrix. "Shunt the spikes energy into the phaser array, if its going to destroy the shields lets make it work for us. Then reroute what reserves to compensate for the shields." Kaylee ordered as she headed to a nearby console to begin the work as her staff ran around the bridge like little drone ants carrying out their superiors orders.
Sickbay
"Doc!"
Nicolette slipped between two nurses darting between a handful of beds. They were filled with a small engineering team that had the displeasure of standing too close to an EPS rupture. The resulting abrasions and burns came in various stages from kill me now to make it stop- at least until ta hypo full of kelotane brought relief swept in like a flash flood. A hearty slathering of dermaline gel and a date with some nu-skin lined up would get most out of the bay in a matter of hours-
-And then there were the not so lucky like the crewman sitting taut on the edge of the biobed- his fist still tightly clenched around a hyperspanner even though the flesh had been eaten raw where it hadn't just evaporated away completely. The fine bones in his hand were visible in places, locked in the act of holding the tool that had most likely been flash-cooked into his hand.
As soon as she was within reach, the man's vitals were thrust under her nose. She didn't need to see the readouts t tell that the kelotane wasn't doing enough for the pain. She glanced at his blood pressure, then back up at his eyes and locked him in with a confident stare. "Run a line for fluids. Pop 30 ccs of hydrocortilene into the bag. Have Granger ready theater one.." De La Croix rattled off, not breaking eye contact with the man for a moment. "We've got you, honey. You're going to be just fine. How's five's breathing? Doing a little better now, huh? We're just going to ease you back now, hon, and you're going to keep breathing deep for me like you are." When When the edge of fervor faded away from his eyes and his breathing difficulty decreased, the doctor and another nurse ease Tam Park's shoulders slowly back to the bed.
"Nice work, sugar. Ella's going to set you up with a sweet little mask that's going to help you have some wild dreams while I put you in cue, hon. You'll just sleep right through surgery- What's with two? He's going in first, then six here! -And wake up feelin' just fine." De La Croix scooted to the side as a mask was fitted over Park's face. "Just breathe deep, Tam. You're doing a good job. We're all here for you.." Her words faded off as he did.
Nicolette moved over to five where the burns covered most of a man's chest. He had to eat the most of the damage, as the rest of the crew was in better shape by far. He was already in the process of being moved over to a gurney, the locks being moved for free drift when she took another gander at his vitals. "Is Granger ready in surgery? We need to get this rollin' before the next wave comes in." And they would be, she thought to herself, adrenaline dancing through her system.
The day had only just begun.
Fighter Bay
This was the part Bobby really hated. The waiting. Out there, in the dark sky, going up against your enemy, there wasn't time to sit around and think. No time to be worried or nervous. His fighter vibrated for a moment as the Manoora took a hit, then rocked hard as another one landed. His fight's inertial stabilizers would kick in only as he engaged the launch sequence. Till then, he would have to enjoy the ride. Oh joy.
A particularly powerful hit stuck the Manoora then, and his fighter seemed to drop out beneath him, and his stomach too. Then the fighter slammed back into contact with the deck. Bobby's teeth rattled. Enough was enough. "C'mooon," he whispered. "Give the order..."
Landing Shuttles
The Marines in the landing shuttle stood stock still, only moving with the throws of the ship as it was battered by the their assailants. Drops were always the most dangerous part. You were stuck in a tin can and nothing you could do would stop the bad guys outside from killing you if they got a lock.
Melody was taking stock of her men as she held tight to the hand bar at the top of the cabin. Their faces ranged from terrified to mildly amuse to down right angry and ready for a fight. The terrified bothered her the most, "Winslow!" She called to the soldier she'd dressed down earlier, "You look like you're about to lose your lunch. What's wrong?" She asked over done of idle chatter and the battle outside.
"Scared out of my mind, ma'am," Winslow replied, honestly.
"Why? You've done drops before," She called to him.
"Only sims, ma'am... never the real thing," Winslow said. She could hear his voice shaking even over the noise.
"Do you like boating, son?" Danny asked.
"Yessir..." Winslow said, sounding a bit confused.
"Close your eyes, and imagine you're on the deck of a boat, and the noise is just the rain on the water and waves," He said, making a point to close his eyes and give a little peaceful smile.
"Does that work?" Winslow asked, nervously.
"You tell me, son," Danny replied.
Winslow took a deep breath and closed his eyes. After a moment, his furrowed brow loosened up and Melody smiled, "Hey... it works pretty good, huh," Winslow said with a smile.
"Good man," Danny said, opening his eyes and giving Melody a wink.
"You and me, old man. Till they pry the phasers out of our cold dead hands," Melody said with a nod. "And that ain't today," She added, her tone a touch more serious.
"You and me, Mel," Danny said with a smile. It's all he'd give.
Melody chewed on her lip as she realized that if he was right about his gut feeling, he'd... no... no, he wasn't right. Period. Everyone would come home just fine today.
Main Bridge
“Bring us to zero-four-nine mark six-three!” Whitlam called, gripping the armrest of his chair almost as hard as he was gritting his teeth. “We need to take some pressure off the Baltimore.”
The Manoora had just despatched one of the Jem’Hadar attack ships that had assailed the two Akira-class vessels. While their Klingon escort was still being tied up by Jem’Hadar of their own, the Manoora and the Baltimore were left to fend these ones off without help.
It was Lassiter’s ship that was taking most of the attention from the Jem’Hadar, though. And they were losing. The tumble of combat had meant the two ships were separated, but now that Manoora had dealt with her attacker, she was able to make haste to help her sister ship.
Elliot grabbed his console as the ship shook from impact. "Engineering has reported that the shield power is restored. We have minor hull breaches, but the fire on Deck 8 has been contained."
“Time till weapons range?” Whitlam asked.
"Ten seconds."
As they watched, the Baltimore fired a spread of quantum torpedoes that hit home on one of the Jem’Hadar fighters, causing it to erupt into a brilliant flash as its core breached. The final attack ship was manoeuvring itself behind the Baltimore and getting ready for what might be a definitive strike.
“Ready a full spread of quantum torpedoes, Mr Gunning,” Whitlam ordered, not daring to take his eyes from the scene unfolding on the screen.
"Aye, sir." Gunning's hand darted from control to control, expanding the ships and manually picking targets for the torpedoes. The helm would do the hard work. The torpedo display suddenly flashed a bright green, the symbol to tell him they were in range. "Weapons free!" He almost cried out, just as he noticed the bursts of brilliant blue light which had left the last Jem'Hadar fighter just as Gunning's hand had completed the firing procedure.
Whitlam’s eyes widened and his blood ran cold as he watched the spread of torpedoes glide through space towards the Baltimore. He breathed in sharply as they struck home.
The Baltimore’s starboard nacelle was rended from the rest of the hull, sent spinning off into space just ahead of a fiery explosion that started as a flicker behind the main bridge and tore through the ship’s hull. A split second later, the whole scene was consumed by a brilliant white explosion of light.
Meanwhile, the Manoora’s spread of torpedoes also struck home, tearing through the Jem’Hadar ship and exacting a swift vengeance for the loss of her sister.
Gunning knew there wasn't time for sentimentality - that would come later - but his heart skipped a beat, only jolted back into life by the eruption of the Jem'Hadar attack ship. An eye for an eye, Gunning thought as he returned his gaze to the targeting computer.
Drake looked up at the viewscreen just as signals from the Baltimore cut out. He was silent as the Manoora's sister disintegrated in front of them, no doubt just one the first of many ships to be lost in this war. His eyes slid closed for a brief moment as his thoughts went to the crew, and how easily they could be face the same fate.
There could have been no survivors. The Baltimore - and his friend George Lassiter - were gone. And while the initial shock of the loss was still fresh, Whitlam’s thoughts turned to the mission at hand. The Baltimore was leading this raid. She had an entire company of marines ready to join with the Manoora’s own company to execute the plan. She had fighters on standby to provide air support. How could their mission continue with half of the forces assigned now lost. With only one company of marines, how could they hope to achieve their objective?
Whitlam was determined to find out and a plan was forming in his mind.
He tapped his commbadge. “Whitlam to Captain Windsor. Please come to the bridge immediately.”
Captain Julius Whitlam
Commanding Officer
Commander Elliot Drake
Executive Officer
Captain Melody Anne Windsor
Marine Commanding Officer
Lieutenant Commander Alexander Gunning
Chief of Security
Lieutenant Kaylee Williams
Chief Engineer
Lieutenant Nicolette De La Croix
Chief Medical Officer
Second Lieutenant Robert Lancaster
Fighter Pilot
