Topic: Cleopatra #2  (Read 14272 times)

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Offline Commander La'ra

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Re: Cleopatra #2
« Reply #20 on: July 26, 2012, 12:18:41 am »
I say this because I think for this situation your approach is the correct one to take, so I wonder what would happen to a crew here who tried to follow my pattern... and the people they are supposed to be protecting. Worth a story, do you think?

I sorta got the image of that little moment from Starship Troopers where they put the cow in the same room with the bug...
"Dialogue from a play, Hamlet to Horatio: 'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' Dialogue from a play written long before men took to the sky. There are more things in heaven and earth, and in the sky, than perhaps can be dreamt of. And somewhere in between heaven, the sky, the earth, lies the Twilight Zone."
                                                                 ---------Rod Serling, The Last Flight

Offline Captain Sharp

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Re: Cleopatra #2
« Reply #21 on: July 26, 2012, 10:51:56 pm »
By all means, Andy. Take it and run with it! You'll get slightly more details later, but not many. Feel free to flesh out the origins of said critters and all the mumbo-jumbo you want. Drive it like ya stole it.

And Grim, as I wrote all those scenes, I got a very similar feeling. I remember the scenes from FMJ...

"How do ya shoot women and children?!"
"Easy...you don't lead em as much!"

Gotta love Animal-Mother. May be remembering the quote a bit off, but it's close.

Hope yall are enjoying. More to come this weekend.

--Guv
"Jayne?"

"Yeah?"

"You wanna tell me why there's a statue of you here lookin' like I owe him something?"

"Wishin' I could, Captain. "

Offline Scottish Andy

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Re: Cleopatra #2
« Reply #22 on: July 30, 2012, 03:48:43 pm »
Quote
By all means, Andy. Take it and run with it! You'll get slightly more details later, but not many. Feel free to flesh out the origins of said critters and all the mumbo-jumbo you want.
Done and done.

Quote
Drive it like ya stole it.
lol...

And yes, I am enjoying it. Keep on truckin', good buddy.
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Mickey: "Wot's that?"
The Doctor: "No idea. Just made it up. Didn't want to say 'Magic Door'."
- Doctor Who: The Woman in the Fireplace (S02E04)

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Offline Captain Sharp

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Re: Cleopatra #2
« Reply #23 on: July 30, 2012, 09:00:07 pm »

Chapter Five





“Jam it!”

Rell’s communications officer worked his controls like a man possessed. He knew it unwise to displease this ship’s commander. In the end, the result was inevitable.

“I could not, Commander. The drone’s command signal was on a secondary band. It sent its transmission before I realized what it was doing.”

The comm officer hazarded a glance up at his CO. Rell just stood there, thumbs hooked into his belt, staring down at him. He held the stare for a deadly length of time.

Finally, Rell just shrugged. He looked back at the discolored pile of dilapidation that floated out there ahead of them, its garish running lights blinking with annoying rapidity. First Officer Turak stepped up from his station.

“Orders, Commander?”

“Our job here is done. We leave.”

Turak bristled with outrage.

“We will walk all over that ship!”

Rell paused in his movements to alight in his chair. He glared at his exec with ire.

“That is outside our orders, First Officer.”

“Our orders do not dictate we behave as cowards!”

“No, they dictate we distract this sector’s patrol vessel while weakening Federation colonial efforts. They include the parameter to monitor Starfleet’s response to a Rech’brach outbreak. We have completed all these.”

“None of that precludes our taking a prize on the way back home!”

“General Tor has ordered all ships in this quadrant to engage in no actions to provoke the Earthers unnecessarily. We do not have the ships to waste.”

“Nothing will be wasted in removing that scrap heap from this sky.”

“Possibly. That is my decision.”

Turak crossed his arms. His countenance became predatory. He outweighed Rell by half or more. “And you are a coward.”

Rell drew and fired in one motion. The blue bolt caved in Turak’s face and blew it out the back of his skull. His gore bathed the backside of the unfortunate communications officer.

The commander holstered his pistol with a distasteful movement and took his seat. A junior officer moved to remove the steaming corpse.

“Pilot! Full thrusters. Return to previous patrol section.”





“They’re moving off, Captain.” Ensign Davenport confirmed, eyeing his board as the bird-ship leaned into its turn and accelerated away on the viewer. “He’s going to warp speed.”

“Monitor his progress, ensign. Stand down battlestations, maintain standby alert.” Sharp moved toward the comm station again. “Get me the XO.”





Lieutenant Commander Ellyson breathed a slight sigh as the captain ended his update of the orbital situation.

“That’s good to hear, Captain.”

“What’s the progress down there, Commander?”

“No injuries. Both shuttles currently tagging and thinning down the Deathclaw population. We’ve counted 67 of the things here at the town site. All dead. I was about to signal the recall to let the surviving creatures to go home.”

“Carry on. We may have reason to believe that our Klingon friends introduced the present situation to the colony. If that’s the case, I’d like to have some proof of the matter to take home to Command. See what you can do to acquire that for me, Number One.”

“I’m not sure how good an idea that is, Captain.”

“Explain.”

“Well, sir. My systems show the tagged creatures converging into one location. Their lair or den appears to be within the hilly terrain northwest, near the river six klicks from here. Its heavily forested terrain there, rocky, riddled with caverns. I don’t think any team I send in there will have an advantage over the Deathclaws.”

There was a pause as the captain mulled that over from orbit.

“You’re saying it would be an unnecessary risk.”

“Aye, sir. Sorry.”

“Save the apology, Commander. You’re the ground site CO. Very well, then. Advise me when the creatures have relocated back into their den, and we’ll carry out the eradication.”

“Aye, sir.”

The XO felt like she’d narrowly avoided a bullet. Sending a strike team, even a heavily armed and protected one into that close-in terrain would have given her the casualties she’d avoided today in the firefight against these things.
Whatever evidence the captain wanted from the creatures’ den would have to be collected in the morning, after the den was destroyed.

“Ensign Savoy. Recall the assault shuttles. Time for the next phase.”





By morning, the tagged beasts were all confirmed to be gathered in one large area within the hills near the colony site. As the sun arose over the mountain range to the northeast, the townsfolk gathered to watch as a series of photon torpedoes rained down through the atmosphere to reduce the Deathclaw cavern to a blackened hole in the earth. The impacts of the matter/antimatter missiles shook ever building and set the civilian to cringing, hands held tight to their ears. But their relief was evident on their faces when the all-clear report came down from the orbiting starship.

For Roanal Colony, the long night of fear was over.

Captain Sharp beamed down with the first group of returning colonists. He stepped clear of the older folks as they smiled and thanked him, patting him on the back. Commander Ellyson, Lieutenant Fujiwara and several of the colonists were waiting in a small group as he came near.

Biologist Kanly was the first to speak.

“Did you get all of them, Captain?”

“We’re not certain, yet, Mister Kanly. But I have teams beaming down there to determine whether any of the creatures survived.”

“But you’ll…make sure…right?”

Sharp gave the man a reassuring look.

“We’ll make sure we got them all before we leave orbit, Mister Kanly. My crew is very thorough.”

“I’m sure Cap—“

Sharp’s gaze remained polite, but steely.

“Apologies, Mister Kanly. But I have important details to work out with my executive officer.”

Mister Fujiwara smiled, taking the hint. He slid an arm around the civilian’s shoulder to lead him away.

“No problem, Captain. I need to discuss the security measures we’ll be leaving behind with Kanly and a few of the others.”

“Very good, Mister.”

The two command officers walked away and into the midst of the township. Sharp eyed the simple beauty of the homestead’s design. He had no wish to live in such a place though. His job was to make places like this one safe.

“Our teams are already on-site?” Ellyson began.

“Mister Ford and Mister Davenport are leading two teams. I’m hoping they’ll also be able to find some kind of evidence that the things were beamed or shuttled here by our friends in the sky.”

“So we’ll know exactly who to point the finger at when war breaks out?”

Sharp had to smile.

“Something like that.”

“You could have opened fire on them in orbit. We have almost every reason to believe they’re responsible for the creature infestation.”

“Almost. But nothing concrete.”

“Maybe, Captain. But…it seems like we just let them get away with a crime.”

“Challenging them in orbit would not have solved anything, I’m afraid. And the Cleo is badly matched against a heavily upgraded D-5. Rell had every chance of winning that fight.”

“We could have taken them.”

“Maybe. It wasn’t worth the risk. Especially with our job only half done here on the planet at the time.”

“So, what did they gain by staging all this?”

Sharp halted their progress. They had reached the smoldering area of tree line last night’s firefight had torn to bits. The smoke from the flames was still wafting about thinly.

“While we’ve been here, they’ve been moving something in or out of our patrol zone. I’ve had stellar cartography create a map of the area uncovered by our absence the last 24 hours. The gap is…considerable.”

“Could they have sneaked assets into the Federation interior?”

“Not in the time allowed. They would have been traveling past warp twelve to do so. When my message reached Command, they ordered the USS Constantinople in to cover the interior approaches from this sector. She’ll remain there till we’re done here, and she’ll be our reinforcement should another attempt be made in force.”

Commander Ellyson looked out over the destroyed bit of forest. The desolate ruin they’d created to defend these people stood out in stark contrast against everything the colonists had created for themselves.

“I just don’t feel like we’ve accomplished much here, Captain. I feel like the Klingons got one over on us today.”

“They did, Commander. But those people back there are glad we were in the area.”

Susan looked over her shoulder. More of the young were beaming in from the ship, glad to be reunited with their families. Glad to be back home, and safe. They’d still be in danger were it not for the crew of the Cleopatra.

“Are you telling me to concentrate on the battle we can win, Captain?”

“Something like that, XO. Let’s go see how the mop-up is going.”
"Jayne?"

"Yeah?"

"You wanna tell me why there's a statue of you here lookin' like I owe him something?"

"Wishin' I could, Captain. "

Offline Grim Reaper

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Re: Cleopatra #2
« Reply #24 on: July 31, 2012, 01:35:19 am »
Wouldn't a disrupter to the head seen as dishonourable? It's effective though ;) I wonder if you'll have more though, I still want to know about Ms Vulcan and the possible evidence. Lol, I just made a Freudian slip didn't I. A well, hooray for boobies  ;)
Snickers@DND: If there is one straight answer in that bent little head of yours, you'd better start spillin' it pretty damn quick, or I'm gonna take a large, blunt object, roughly the size of Kallae AND his hat and shove it lengthwise up a crevice of your being so seldomly cleaned that even the denizens of the nine hells would not touch it with a 10-feet rusty pole

Offline Captain Sharp

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Re: Cleopatra #2
« Reply #25 on: July 31, 2012, 03:49:33 pm »
This particular Klingon isn't nearly as worried about honor. Which was the point of the scene. Rell is not the typical Klink, at least, I try to make him different. His personality will unfold in coming chapters/stories.

--guv

And yes...hooray for boobies!
"Jayne?"

"Yeah?"

"You wanna tell me why there's a statue of you here lookin' like I owe him something?"

"Wishin' I could, Captain. "

Offline Scottish Andy

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Re: Cleopatra #2
« Reply #26 on: August 01, 2012, 10:35:52 am »
Rell strikes me as a typical TOS Klingon, as fleshed out by the '80s novels. I'm sure the Guv will be simply delighted with that characterisation. :D
The First Officer annoyed me as being overly argumentative, and since he's just a Klingon I was very happy, nay delighted, that he had his brains blown out/melted away/disintegrated.
Just kidding. But, well, you did set him up for that, so... ;)

Nice ending to the Deathclaw threat, if it is perhaps not the end of the story. You haven't written "The End" yet, anyway.

It seems to me that Ellyson is a little to focussed on the Klingons; they seem to be her primary concern and saving the Federation citizens is distracting her from what the Dastardly Villains (TM) are up to. Not to say she didn't do her job in that regard very well, I guess she's just a Big Picture. (TM) person rather than a "Big Picture is made up of all the Small Pieces" person. (TM).

So, there is more?
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Offline Captain Sharp

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Re: Cleopatra #2
« Reply #27 on: August 01, 2012, 07:23:30 pm »
There's always more. Somewhere.

Yeah, this one keeps on going, though it could have ended there easily enough.

Rell is meant to be a TOS Klingon, definitely. But, being RogTrek (tm), he'll wind up a lot more brutal than TOS Klinks (compared to what you SAW them doing, opposed to what you heard about them doing, such as gunning down 100 Organian hostages). Still writing along with him.

This isn't the first time I've used him, though.

As to 80's novel-Klingons, and 80's Trek novels in general... I get a chuckle from most of em. They were making it up as they went, like any writer. If they'd have been in control of on screen-Trek at the time, their vision is what we would have had. So I'm not un-flattered by the comparison.

The bit with the Klingon XO was definitely telegraphed. You knew it was coming as soon as the scene started. Stereotypical. It was meant to be. I wanted it shown right off the bat, what sort of man Rell is.

And you're right about Ellyson. She got all gung ho about takin down some Klingons, there. Almost like she has something to prove...

--guv
"Jayne?"

"Yeah?"

"You wanna tell me why there's a statue of you here lookin' like I owe him something?"

"Wishin' I could, Captain. "

Offline Captain Sharp

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Re: Cleopatra #2
« Reply #28 on: August 07, 2012, 10:32:24 pm »
Chapter Six





Lieutenant Fujiwara stepped up to the conn, report pad in hand. Captain Sharp glanced his way, prying his attention from the tactical readout to the port side of the bridge. He’d been reviewing the stellar topography of Cleopatra’s patrol zone, paying particular mindfulness to the Tellurian Rift.

“Report from the surface, sir.” Mike said.

“Any findings?”

“Negative, sir. No sensor trace of transporter activity or aircraft landings aside from our own.”

“And the Deathclaws.”

“She’s got you calling them that too?”

“The commander’s even named them Deathclaws in her reports.” The captain shrugged.

“Well, as to the Deathclaws, their den is entirely destroyed. Samples of the gestation sacks are in Medical. The rest we burned. We took samples from the river to make sure no genetic material spread down stream. No traces. And in the last 14 hours, we’ve had no contact with surviving creatures and no hint from remote sensors that any of them have avoided our searches.”

“Just the same, you’ll detail two squads to remain with Roanal till the colonists are satisfied they’re dead. Leave a Senior Specialist in charge.”

“Aye, sir.”

“What assets are still on the planet?”

Mike flipped the pad he’d been offering about to read for himself.

“Both shuttles are back aboard. Strike Team One is aboard ship, as is most of Team Two. Mister Ford and two others remain on planet. Mister Ford is still off duty, I think. Must have decided to spend the night.”

Fujiwara knew exactly what the junior lieutenant was doing down there. He noticed things of that sort. He figured the captain just attributed the occurrence to Ford being a country-boy. He went on.

“Per XO’s orders, four of the auto-cannon are being permanently hardwired into the generators inside the colony warehouse. I have a squad building dura-concrete redoubts around them. They’ll be done by nightfall.”

“Anything further?”

“We’ll be ready for departure by planetary nightfall, if not before. If needed, we could have all personnel back inside of five minutes. Our groundside objectives seem complete. Something on your mind, Captain?”

Sharp nodded, dark eyes drawing back to the tactical map.

“Just a hunch, Lieutenant. Get some sleep.”

“Aye, sir.”

Sharp glanced aft as the lift doors closed behind his security chief. He pondered the uses of the gaseous rift centered in the map he’d called up as he waited for the orders he was expecting from Starfleet Command. By now, they had received a full report from the Constantinople, which had doubtless discovered nothing with her sensor range. Commander Rell’s plan, or at least the plan he was following, was quite good. They’d planned for the Constantinople’s presence nearby.

Time passed slowly as he waited, patiently. Ship operations went on, smooth and orderly. He ordered a sandwich and coffee. The shift changed, finally reverting to the normal selection of bridge officers. Ford reclaimed the helm, looking refreshed from his night of rest beneath a planetary sky.

“Receiving transmission from Starfleet Base, Captain.”

Satisfied, the captain rose and went to Lania’s console as she decoded the transmission. It was a recorded visual from Admiral Minton.

“Put it up on this console, Ensign.”

The Vulcan officer tapped the keys swiftly. The older commanding officer’s face snapped into clear view before the two of them. Several bridge officers halted to watch what the veteran had to tell them.

“To Captain Sharp, Commanding USS Cleopatra. From Starfleet Operations. Captain, your are ordered to suspend your normal patrol duties and leave a suitable force on Roanal Colony to safely handle the present situation during your absence.

Command has reviewed the situation in your sector and the actions of Klingon forces, as reported, has caused us concern. USS Constantinople has pursued every option available to her crew and turned up no evidence as to enemy intentions.

“Starfleet Command has decided that you, as the closest asset, must investigate further in what ever way you decide, to determine Klingon motives in distracting our patrol forces away from that corridor of space. Take whatever procedures you deem necessary to achieve success. Discovery of Klingon intent is considered to be paramount.
 
“This is order is signed by Admiral J. Komak, C-in-C, Starfleet Command. Good luck, Captain. And good hunting. Minton out.”

Ensign Lania’s left eyebrow soared high.

“They were quite non-specific as to the methods they would prefer.”

Sharp almost smirked. Someone trusted him back there.

“Indeed they were, Ensign. Have all crew reported aboard?”

“Save those security personnel ordered to remain on-site, Captain.”

“Then inform the colony that we’ve been ordered out.”

“Aye, sir.”

The aft turbolift hatch gave way before Commander Ellyson. The XO strode near to the captain, and halted with hands clasped behind her.

“Comm sent me a prompt that we’ve received new orders, sir?”

“Yes we have, Commander. We’re to investigate why the Klingons wanted us distracted.”

“Good. How are we going to do that, sir?”

Sharp inclined his head to the still revolving image of the Tellurian Rift on the tactical grid. Both the ship’s pilots glanced that way with them.

“First you’re going to confirm for me that Rell’s ship is still heading off behind the Rift. Then we’re going to make use of it.”

“How, sir?”

“We’re going to bushwhack him, Commander.”





The captain’s words sent a thrill through the bridge and put every officer to work at a frenzied pace. The synergy created by their CO’s assuredness and audacity gave them an anticipation for events that might normally have given them worry. Right now, the prospect of jumping a superior Klingon warship did not seem unduly dangerous. Especially knowing what they’d likely done on the planet below.

Mister Ford glanced aside to the navigator.

“Mister Davenport, looks like we might see some ship-to-ship action.”

“Seems so, Mister Ford.”

“Any comment on that?”

“God help the Klingons.”

Ford’s wide smile had been catching the navigator’s attention since the younger man had returned to the ship this afternoon.

You’re awful chipper since coming back home, Mister Ford. Any reason behind that?”

The two of them kept their voices low as they worked. Behind them, the captain and XO had rerouted to the science station and were scanning to the course of the Klingon Bird of Prey. The enemy ship was still bound for the far side of the gas rift that bisected the sector.

“Could be, Mister Davenport.”

“Hmm.”

The helmsman smiled. The two pilots had become fast friends in the short time they’d served together since Cleopatra’s relaunching. But the bridge wasn’t the best place to talk about romantic interludes with native colonists. The ensign laid in three prospective routes for the Cleo to take when the captain gave them the order to embark on their bushwhack. Ford pointed to the one he’d suggest and Ron nodded his agreement.

“Oh,” said Ron suddenly, voice still at a conspiratory level. “I got a certain Women of Starfleet magazine you might want to see sometime.”

Ford’s face went slack.

“Helm,” Commander Ellyson’s voice projected from aft. “Break orbit. Full impulse power. Mister Davenport, make our course for the Tellurian Rift, Section 515. We’ll narrow down our course as we close in. Helm, stand by maximum warp.”

Both pilots rapidly punched in the orders to their controls. The ship swung out of orbit, leaving the blue and green world behind them. The little gray moon slipped out of sight as they aimed past it.

“We’re clear and free to navigate.”

Sharp had planted himself in the command chair. In his eye was a stony resolve normally reserved for negotiations and battle.

“Warp speed.”





Four hours. Four hours of flight at maximum warp. Flying at a sustained warp factor 4.8 after only having done the very same thing for 16 hours the day before. This ship was old. And the captain was asking a hell of a lot from him.
Lieutenant Jave Bornet was not a person to complain. He might comment and cajole and provide sarcastic narrative…but he was not a complainer. He was a Tellarite, after all. And if nothing, a Tellarite was an honest being.

And to be honest, Jave was quite close to complaining.

He knew Sharp was about to ask him for more speed.

Jave stalked between intermix monitoring panels, brushing aside the occasional impeding specialist from his path to stand between the twin rows of plasma conduits dominating the technological cavern about him. The dilithium intermix chamber, EPS power taps and both monstrous energy converters that provided the ship’s power took up the space of a factory. Encased within the metal hull of the Cleopatra, the dirty, scarred machinery produced the sound of a grinding metal lathe six inches from the ear. The crewmen near to the turbine section usually had to use headphones to blot out the sound and communicate with those about them.

With the exception of the dilithium chamber itself, most of the gear in the engine room was a half-century-old. It was ancient. The warp coils were webbed with hairline fractures, sealed with tender love and care, over and over.

And the captain still would ask for more speed.

He knew it.

Jave fingered his short beard and stalked over to the temperature control panel. The youth there still had not learned to yield the console to the chief engineer when approached, and still had to be gently shoved out of his rightful spot. At least he’d learned to stop lashing out at the engineer for uprooting him. The pup was learning.

“Oominoominoom-a-noonmiinoo.”

Ensign Mianar had crawled up atop the console without Jave’s seeing her. He hated when the Mienieni officer pulled that crap. She was damn sneaky, not having feet or limbs. Or clothes. The yellow, tendril-covered alien wore a red sash about her mop-shaped form, denoting her department, which was adorned with rank striped and the Starfleet emblem. Her bulging cat-eyes, which didn’t blink nearly often enough, were glued on him as her tiny nose-mouth warbled out to him.

“I know core temperature isn’t the problem. It’s the coils. We don’t need any more damn fractures.”

“Ooomi-nooo. Nooonaoominooo.”

“No I am not being irate. My engines just need constant supervision. By me.”

“Ooo-nooo. Nooo-oorinooo.”

“I trust my people to do their jobs. It’s just that no one knows these engines like I do.”

“Ooomiiinooonanoominooo.”

“No, no. The only thing that needs replacing is the damn warp engines.”

“Ooo-noomiinooriinooo?”

“No there aren’t any spare warp engines for this class. At least not in any better shape.”

“Orrinooominoooo-tnnn.”

“Yes I have checked. The least worn out coils are on the USS Cheyenne. And they have more space hours on them than ours do. She’s been sitting in the scrap yard for a decade.”

“Ooomiiinooonanoominooo?”

“As it happens, I do have a way to solve our problems. I can construct totally new nacelles for this ship with minimal cost and a couple months of dock time. But Starfleet doesn’t want to spend the money on a 50 year old starship and the captain doesn’t want to give me the yard time.”

“Orrinooominoooo.”

“Exactly. They just want me to keep pushing a pile of debris that’s already been pushed too long and too hard for too long—“

“Bridge to engineering.”

Jave jabbed the nearest comm control.

“Bornet here, Captain.”

“Engineer, Rell’s ship has passed behind the Rift. We’re narrowing our vector to a more acute interception angle, and we’re going to need more speed.”

Just as Jave had predicted.

“I don’t have much more than this to give, Captain.”

“Then you’re going to have to be creative, Engineer.”

Bornet took the time for a three-count.

“Captain, if I pour any more hot plasma into these over taxed coils, they’re going to start fracturing again. If they fail—“

“Then we’re either crippled or stranded. Just get it done, Engineer. I need factor five point three or better.”

“Acknowledged!”

Bornet killed the comm link and glared at the three-foot high ensign standing atop the console before him. She stared back, blinked once, and event that wouldn’t occur again for two more hours. He smirked.

“Captain wants more speed. Get on it.”

“Oooonooo!”

“Well, you were just complaining about how I don’t delegate responsibility enough. Now you want me to do everything for you?”




“Holding at warp five point three-seven. Course remains steady.”

Captain Sharp nodded to the navigator’s report. The gray-white vapor of the Tellurian Rift was washing past the ship out the left-hand side of the subspace-streaked main viewer. Not far to go now.

If Rell’s D-5 had maintained course and speed, it would be nearly adjacent to the Cleo on the far side of the giant cloud. The two ships were invisible to one another because of the gas cloud. The captain would not be able to finalize his plans till he knew exactly what the enemy ship was doing on its side of the Rift.

“Very good. Drone ready?”

Ford’s head bobbed.

“Aye, Cap’n. Mark 16 deep reconnaissance drone, loaded into tube two. Ready to launch. Its warp boosters are go.”
Sharp took another measuring glance to the display on the left. The tactical map showed them nearing the final quarter of the long, narrow ion-charged cloud.

“Launch drone.”

Cleopatra rocked side to side.

“Drone away.”

The captain did not miss the irony that he had probes aboard that could easily outrun his starship. At least for a few hours. He also had a courier shuttle in the bay that could leave her in the dust.

“Drone entering Rift.” Ford followed up, watching the telemetry. “Steady at warp six point five. Heading for listening post. She’s gone to radio silence. Semi-directional transmitter checks out. Fading from contact now. She’ll reach destination in twenty-three minutes, seven seconds.”

“Steady as she goes, helm.”
"Jayne?"

"Yeah?"

"You wanna tell me why there's a statue of you here lookin' like I owe him something?"

"Wishin' I could, Captain. "

Offline Grim Reaper

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Re: Cleopatra #2
« Reply #29 on: August 08, 2012, 03:16:34 am »
Nice, I like all those subplots you use, makes me curious without them being too interesting (aka derive attention of the main storyline). As for the main plotline with our Klingon, I STILL wonder what he wants. So kudos!
Snickers@DND: If there is one straight answer in that bent little head of yours, you'd better start spillin' it pretty damn quick, or I'm gonna take a large, blunt object, roughly the size of Kallae AND his hat and shove it lengthwise up a crevice of your being so seldomly cleaned that even the denizens of the nine hells would not touch it with a 10-feet rusty pole

Offline Scottish Andy

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Re: Cleopatra #2
« Reply #30 on: August 09, 2012, 03:18:31 pm »
Oh goodie, it continues! :)

Love the tip of the hat to Star Wars.

A good piece to segue from the Death of the Deathclaws to the Pursuit of the Klingons. Looking forward to more.
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Offline Captain Sharp

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Re: Cleopatra #2
« Reply #31 on: August 10, 2012, 07:45:20 pm »
A lot of tips, conscious and un, to various movies/series.

Aliens.

Fall Out 3.

Battlestar Galactica.

Star Wars.

Various Vietnam movies.

Roger Corman movies (no bug rape, tho).

--guv
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Offline Lieutenant_Q

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Re: Cleopatra #2
« Reply #32 on: August 10, 2012, 11:31:48 pm »
The Cleo vs a D-5... should be interesting.  Time to see how good Captain Sharp is.

I don't find anything wrong with Rell blasting his Exec with a disruptor.  Turak challenged him, he may not have said it in those words, but he challenged him nonetheless.   Rell couldn't let that challenge stand and still be in command next month.

And the magazine continues it's rounds... only now in the senior officer ranks...  I sense either Captain Sharp or Commander Ellyson personally finding out about it very very soon.  :)
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Offline Captain Sharp

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Re: Cleopatra #2
« Reply #33 on: August 22, 2012, 08:41:39 pm »
This Chapter's a bit longer...

Chapter Seven





The milky glaze that had been growing on the fore viewer now dominated the entire square viewscreen. The star streaks of warp travel terminated, depositing the USS Cleopatra back into real space next to the Tellurian Rift. She floated there, silent and still, as her crew mustered to battlestations to the tune of an electronic klaxon.

“Weapons hot and ready, Captain!”

“Shields up, sir!”

“Engineering reports systems stabilizing. Full power available to defensive systems.”

Captain Sharp glanced to the tactical screen. The last transmission from the recon drone had shown Rell’s ship nearing the intercept zone. The D-5 had slowed to a leisurely warp two as the ship took up its patrol zone again. In another minute, the drone would update the scout’s position and he would make his final adjustments to his plan.
 
“Report coil temperatures.” He projected to the portside stations.

“Temperatures dropping to 1,200 Celsius. Primary and reserve coolant has been directed to the nacelles. Temperatures will return to nominal in seven minutes.”

Would they have seven minutes?

“Drone signal incoming, Captain.” Came from Ensign Lania.

The tactical map updated. The D-5 had moved even closer to the rift’s perimeter. Were they avoiding a navigational hazard or had they begun to pick up the probe’s sensor emissions? Surely they hadn’t detected its directional comm signal…

The Klingon ship would be passing in three minutes.

“Mister Ford, take us to maximum warp. Mister Davenport, your course is 357 mark 010. Watch your deflector readings for debris.”

Again the Cleo shot into warp. The haze before them enveloped the viewer, blotted out even the energetic field effect of warped space. Mister Ford began calling out their increasing velocity, ending when the ship edged back up to warp 5.1. That was all the old ship could bear to give them.

“Stand by to acquire target. We’re only going to be in weapons range for three seconds.”

His officers nodded, eyes on their monitors and control boards. The engines continued to howl. Speed dipped to below 5.1, then returned fully. The deck took on an unstable tremor.

“Estimate one minute to target!” Commander Ellyson reported.

Sharp tapped a predesignated intercom control.

“Stand by.”

“Standing by, sir.”

The ship shuddered. The Rift was affecting the Cleo’s warp field. The cloud before them was beginning to lighten, returning to the dark of space. Soon, the enemy would be picking up their warp signature as they emerged from the Rift.

He tapped the intercom panel again.

“Stand by to energize!”





“Detecting a subspace signal to starboard, Commander.”

Commander Rell descended from his chair and stood beside his comm officer. The soldier pointed out a weak, intermittent energy pattern on his board.

“A communication?”

“Likely. Semi-directional, perhaps.”

“Starfleet?”

The officer began to analyze the signal frequency against known enemy bandwidths. “Not a standard carrier band, sir. Civilian perhaps.”

Rell looked to the area map atop the comm station and adjusted its zoom. The transmission source was close to the edge of the gas cloud. To transmit into the cloud meant a receiver within or beyond that cloud. Suspicion took root in the cagey commander.

“Tactics Officer!”

“Sir!”

“Relay the last known position of Sharp’s vessel.”

A blinking yellow dot appeared at the far end of the cloud, on the other side. It had left the Earth colony and was heading back into the sector core.

“Now estimate his course.”

A pulsing green line shown out before the Federation cruiser.

Sharp had been headed toward his patrol zone, but was skating closer to the cloud than previously. He could have been heading this way…

The Earth captain was planning something.

“Science Officer! Scan for the source of that transmission!”

“Yes, Commander!”

Rell whirled for his command seat. His battle instincts were up. Now was not the time to act. He’d have plenty of time to get his shields up before any attack could materialize from within the cloud, and raising them now would only foil Sharp’s plan, force him into another direction.

He looked to the spot where his First Officer had died yesterday.

Looks like you should have been more patient, Turak.”

“Commander! Recording subspace surge within our ship!”

Rell snapped his head toward the science officer before sitting.

“Source!”

“Unknown!”

“Run an internal scan! Check all ship systems! Call Battle Alert!”

The ship’s klaxon began to bellow out its monotone. All non-essential systems powered themselves down to channel power to the combat systems. The shields came up as weapons charged.

“Sir!” Shouted the ship’s Gunnery Officer. “Ship approaching!”

Too many things had drawn his attention in too many directions in too short a span of time. Rell could only hold on as his peripheral vision saw the blue torpedoes zip in and nail his forward screens. The ship staggered and reeled under the force as the missiles punished its shields. Damage alarms cried out in anger.

“We’re dropping out of warp!”

Rell clambered into his chair as gravity righted itself on the bridge. He could see his adversary; that saucer ship with the red-tipped nacelles slung beneath it and the blue deflector array atop; snap out of warp space and into reality. Its weapon ports glowed angrily.

“Thought to catch me unawares, Captain Sharp? You are guileful.” To his men he said: “Acquire target! Close in and fire from beneath his saucer!”





Again in combat armor, Lieutenant Mike Fujiwara hunkered low in the darkened, spacious corridor and fanned his rifle before him. His team of four kept their lights off. No one had reported their safe arrival. For now, stealth was paramount.

They were deep within the interior of the Klingon battlecruiser, beamed there while still marginally at warp speed and while just coming out of the Rift. Mike could not have been less comfortable with the situation.

A quick scan from his tricorder picked up the energy emissions he was after. He dropped the scanner to dangle on its lanyard and gave the hand signal to move up. His team leap-frogged from corner to corner. They would not go undiscovered long, and had to make distance quickly. Luckily, they were on the right deck.

This was a non-critical area of the ship. With every Klingon soldier at his battle station, no one moved about in the halls. So long as they didn’t encounter an odd guard post or get noticed on internal cameras, they should make it to their destination without witnesses. Mike figured their chances of that as 50/50.

Another 90 degree turn. Fujiwara grabbed up his scanner and probed the way. The compartment they were after lay ahead. Two guards stood in their path. He’d really expected more. He conveyed their number to his team. One readied the electronic infiltration device they would soon need. The other two unbelted two grenades apiece.





The Klingon’s return fire was fierce. Their initial barrage of photons had done little more than destabilize the D-5’s warp field. Dropping out of warp in front of them had made the Cleopatra look like she was spoiling for a fight.

Thus far, the plan was solid.

“Shields holding at 80%!” Davenport called out. “They’re coming in low!”

“She’s faster than us, but we’re more maneuverable,” Ford added, fighting the helm as his phasers lashed out on auto-fire. “I can keep him from getting under our torpedoes.”

Sharp eyed the trade of crimson and blue Starfleet weapons for the blue and red of Klingon. His ship shuddered and pitched with each hit. That D-5 packed some serious cannon. How long could his shields withstand the strain?
Commander Ellyson looked back to the captain from her readouts.

“Captain! Rell’s shields are holding at 90%. Our phasers aren’t going to bring them down at the standard setting!”

As the battlecruiser approached, still trying to bank and turn beneath the Cleo’s saucer, Davenport unleashed his third volley of photon torpedoes. The weapons, combined with Ford’s phasers, punched the enemy craft in the jaw, splashing across powerful force fields.

“Our phasers can operate at twice that output.” He called back to the XO.

“But can the power system sustain it?”

“It’ll have to.” He hit the waiting comm panel. “Engineering!”

“Bornet!”

“Increase charge rate to the phasers, we’re increasing to full power.”

“Alright, Captain. Recharge might be spotty, but you’ll get everything we have!”

“Mister Ford, set phasers to full!”

The ship’s new main phasers were designed for the far newer Constitution-Class starships. At half power, they were still 20% more powerful than the Cleo’s original weaponry. Ford smiled with glee unknown till now as he flipped a series of toggles.
“Full power, aye!”
The next barrage of phaser fire was blinding to behold against the spinning stars and the dull green hull of the Klingon ship.





Rell was hurled out of his chair as the strike slammed into his ship like a cage fighter’s spin-kick to the face. He tumbled down the raised dais to the main deck and glared back to the enemy ship. It had grown new fangs…

“Fore shields down to half!” Called one of his men.

“Reinforce power! Helm, get us under that ship!”

“I cannot, Commander. They turn too quickly!”

Quick on the heels of the last salvo, another began to rain home, and this one did not relent. The ship was battered and hammered.

“Turn us to starboard! Maximum thrusters!”
The D-5 turned, veering away from the surprising armament of the aged enemy ship. The move sent many of the incoming shots wide, but they soon began to trace the Klingons’ path. But now they hit fresher shields.
Rell retook his seat.

“Reroute auxiliary power from engines to forward shields. Gunnery, when I bear on him again, target that ship’s port nacelle. All weapons, concentrated fire!”

“Yes, Commander!”

“Commander! We have intruders near the computer core!”





Both Fujiwara’s subordinates stepped out and tossed their grenades as one. The Klingon sentries reacted quickly, ducking into shooting positions when they saw the humans, then leaping into the corners at either edge of the corridor when they recognized the grenades.

The explosives went off, their thud slapping Mike in the heart. He bolted around the corner. Both Klingons were mangled, the formerly red hallway panels aflame about them. Fujiwara put a shot into the Klingon closest to him to ensure his cooperation and knelt by the completely intact hatch the aliens had just given their lives for.

“Hatch is sealed. Charges!”

The charges were set by the lieutenant’s number two. She drew the zip-pin and the team withdrew 30 feet. The blast was not as terrible as the grenades had been, but no less effective. The hatch caved in nicely.

“Claymours!”

Mike’s number two knelt and deposited her mines at the mouth of the red-marked security corridor leading to the computer chamber. She lined the entire length of the hallway with mines, retreating with her men as she went.
Mike and another man moved into the smoke filled computer room swift as wind. They shot down the technicians operating the controls there, one stun blast each. It would not due for them to wreck the memory banks with too powerful a shot. Another shot to each man proved necessary, however. Klingons were robust.

Fujiwara’s entire team hunkered within the tiny chamber as Gunnery Officer Lo’sii laid out her infiltrator gear and began stabbing its hard connections into several open device ports. The tiny keyboard and screen lit up before the Tenatran noncom and she set to work.

Mike knew better than to ask how long it would take her to penetrate the computer’s security. He merely knelt in behind his other two men and readied to repel enemy soldiers.

“Deploying smoke!”

The man on Mike’s left slid a hockey puck shaped dispenser down the way in front of them. It popped, filling the confined space before them with a localized aerosol meant to foil the eye and infrared scan. Everything that could be done to prepare had just been done.





“They’re targeting our nacelles!” Susan shouted from the science station. Several of her arrays were reduced to static from the interference of repeated weapon hits and enemy jamming. She was working like mad to counter the Klingons’ electronic measures, but the Cleo’s best systems were 20 years out of date.

Another severe hit nearly rocked her out of her chair.

“Port nacelle shields are failing!”

Sharp barely stirred in the conn. His eyes were the only animate part of his being. “Redirect starboard shield power to the port nacelle! We can’t lose warp drive!”

Another brace of torpedoes slammed into the ship, rippling down her flanks and the Cleo’s beleaguered warp engine. The bridge lighting failed, replaced by emergencies. His order had been too late.

“Warp drive offline!”

Sharp shot his eyes to Ellyson.

“How bad?” He barked.

Commander Ellyson turned her console over to her relief and lunged across the bridge. She clung to the railing till she reached the engineering station and began toggling through indicators. What she read puzzled her.

“No direct hull damage to the nacelle, Captain! There’s not enough damage to knock out the drive!”

The tech manning the controls pointed to his main panel.

“Warp drive is down, though, sir! There’s no plasma reaching the engines!”

Captain Sharp savagely attacked his intercom again.

“Engineering! Mister Bornet report!”

“Here, Captain! I’m on it!”

“What’s going on down there?”

“I can’t find a reason for warp failure… I’m looking!”





Lieutenant Bornet cast a wary glance off at the fire across his engine bay, which was being fought by three of his best damage control specs. Turbine gear oil could be messy… He plied his wide eyes to the console again, looking for a fault or indicator.

“I have no pressure to the coolant mains!” He reported through the open communicator in his hairy hand. He traded this console for the next one ten feet away.

“It’s got to be a safety valve, but the valve indicators tell me they’re all open and operational!”

“Engineer, we’ve got to have warp speed to make this plan work! Get it back online!”

“Aye, aye, Captain, sir!!” The Tellarite slapped the comm shut and took off at a run to his damage control team leaders.

“Get moving! Visually check every single damn cutoff valve in this plant! Reset them manually, and make sure they work!”

“Aye, aye, sir!”

Jave’s men and women dispersed. There were 167 coolant main valves within this engine room that could affect the warp drive in this way. A faulty monitor on any one or more of them could have caused this. He didn’t want to die because of a faulty bit of wire.





Captain Sharp clambered forth and took hold of the helm console’s side so he could look closely at Mister Ford.

“Helmsman, we need a gap in those shields.”

“I know, sir. He keeps turning his stronger shields toward us after he makes a run. He’s faster than us and won’t come into point blank range.”

Ford’s phasers were even then chattering away, punctuated by the navigator’s photon volleys. A stray explosion tore away a sensor antenna from the Klingon ship’s dorsal. But still her shields would not give way for more than an instant.

“You’ve got to get us closer, Lieutenant. We can’t beam our team out unless their shields are down.”

Ford squinted, concentrating on the enemy.

“I might have a plan, sir.”

“Do it.”

Ford reached up and pulled the impulse drive throttle back to half power. Combined with the maneuver he was still implementing, the Cleo’s speed fell off drastically. He reversed his turn then, banking suddenly away from the enemy ship.

“This is your plan?”

“Makes us look hurt, sir. When the away team’s ready, I’ll be ready.”

Sharp nodded.

“Reroute impulse power to shields!” He called, returning to the conn. “Begin evasive Delta Five!”





“They lose power, Commander!”

Rell peered closely at the now running enemy starship. The humans had almost lost all their shields, and now they had lost half their speed. The blackened vessel was looking like a target recovered from a long day down-range.

“Plot strafing patterns to run flank to flank from her stern quarters! That class of ship has no aft torpedo launcher and only two aft phasers.”

As the saucer shaped craft ran away, injured, his own nimble ship turned and gained distance, then swooped in, firing hard into the center of the main hull. The Earthers’ maneuvers were slower, totally defensive. Their weapons fire was limited to sporadic bursts from the rear guns. The battle would not be long now.

“Stand by boarding parties!”





Lieutenant Fujiwara ducked low and withdrew into cover as the first shot zipped out from the smoke-filled hall. One of his men returned fire, sparking a general trade of shots back and forth. The enemy was using stun energy, wary of damaging their computer core. The advantage remained with his team so long as the Klingons didn’t get close enough to lob a stun grenade through the open door.

Mike learned out and fired off a series of rapid shots toward likely targets. More azure beams responded, slapping the bulkhead before him. The sound of heavy boots made him and his men pull back quickly.

The Claymour was far more frightening in an enclosed space. Ball bearings ricocheted about fiercely, even rebounding back into the computer bay.

Mike glanced back to Lo’sii. The Tenatran had worked her way through several firewalls and was falsifying pass codes to enter the encrypted data core. She had minutes left. How many, he still didn’t know.

An angry shout and screams of a wounded man came from the smoke. Heated fire poured forth, battering the secondary core control station with stun energy. Leaning insanely low, he and his men returned fire, rifles set to lethal effect. Specialist Stanley hurled a grenade down the way.

None of the intruders had yet noticed the waft of smoke coming from the bulkhead beneath the main computer bank interface. Gunnery Officer Lo’sii continued to work, completely unawares.

“I’m past their security. Got complete control!”

“Good!” Mike shouted back. “Finish up!”

“Downloading all transporter and communications records for the past month—“

Lo’sii’s shout jerked Mike about where he was hunkering. Two arms had protruded from beneath the console she stood at and had yanked her down from her feet. A disruptor stabbed forth as she fought to bring her rifle up. She’d landed on the weapon, and was defenseless to prevent her demise. The blue blast took the top of her head off, helmet and all.

Fujiwara knew what was coming next. He and his men whirled and opened fire on the open hatch the Klingons had diligently cut through from a maintenance tunnel beyond. They opened fire on the tiny opening even as the disruptor’s owner reared back to throw his grenade. The deluge of phaser blasts knocked the Klingon’s upper torso into shreds and the grenade went off in his limp hand.

The lieutenant was up immediately, mad as hell. He stepped over his dead crewmate, comm in hand as he dropped his rifle for the blackened infiltrator on the console desktop.

“Cleopatra! Mission accomplished! Beam us out of here!”





“Now Mister Ford!”

Lieutenant Chevis Ford jammed the throttle forth with meaning and keyed in the turn he’d been planning for some minutes now. The enemy was following, strafing from port to starboard behind them. The D-5 was coming about on another starboard run.

The Cleopatra, suddenly accelerating to full impulse power, lurched out of her reverie and leapt upon the unprepared warship. She fired everything she had.





“Coming to port again,” the helm was calling out. “Increasing to full speed.”

Rell was almost bored with the repetition.

“The enemy is closing!”

He blinked.

“What?!”

The D-5 was hit, this time from close range. The little old cruiser had cleared the distance between them within seconds, and was shown bearing in on the main viewscreen. It’s weapons blazed, several impacting the shields protecting the bridge. The ship lolled and thundered.

“Forward shields down!”






“Energize!”

Commander Ellyson watched the transporter indicators on her auxiliary panel. “Transport complete! We’ve got them!”

“Restore shields! Helm, turn us back to the Rift!”

Ford did so reluctantly. The enemy was taking their first real damage in this fight, and the feeling was glorious. But even then, the Klingons were cannibalizing shield coverage to protect the injured bow. He yanked the Cleo away and accelerated the ship away from her adversaries.

“Reroute all remaining power to the aft shields.” Sharp was commanding. He again found the intercom controls.

“Engineering, we need warp speed!”

The first of the next wave of weapon strikes found the Cleopatra’s rear end.





“All coolant main valves operational, Lieutenant!”

Jave glared at the fearful confusion on the DC chief’s face.

“We can’t find any faults!”

“Did you check every one?”

“Yes, sir! We even looked in the manual!”

Bornet growled. Manuals be damned! The manual on this ship was little more than toilet paper. His mind flashed through the thousands of possible components that could cause warp drive failure. He kept coming up with only one thing that caused a pressure failure without line damage…

Ensign Mianar flipped herself up on the railing beside the snarling engineer. The Mienieni’s little cilia were pointing up and aft.

“Ooomii-na-nooo, la-noorinooo!”

“sh*t! Why didn’t you remind me of that sooner!”

Jave took off at a run. He cleared two runs of stairs and barreled past his damage control team. He was headed for the section behind the EPS grid, at the far end of engineering.

Two years before, he’d found a bit of un-chronicled jury-rigging within the coolant system. Such an innocuous thing, a single valve in the midst of the gas pressure monitor system leading to the EPS array. That same valve was part of the grid of piping that regulated the pressure monitor for the coolant plant. If that stupid valve had flipped closed, the sudden lack of gas pressure would have disabled the entire coolant distribution system.

And that damn valve didn’t have a single monitoring relay on it!

Jave reached the pipe segment, saw the greasy valve. It was just a tiny thing, just four inches wide with a seven-inch long lever. The trigger showed it to be shut. He tried to work the valve handle. It didn’t budge.

“Spanner!”

His men looked up at him, confused. They couldn’t even hear him from so far below him. He pantomimed working a spanner.

“Throw me a f*cking wrench!”

Motion from portside caught his eye as Ensign Mianar flowed down the catwalk on her mop of tendrils. Above her head was held a dirty, colorless pipe wrench. He snatched it up from her.

“You’re getting a raise!”

Turning, he drew down the wrench with all his might.





Rell watched with growing anticipation as the Federation starship limped ahead, running from him. They’d turned tail, intent on escaping into the gas cloud with their reclaimed boarding crew.

Obviously, their warp capability was impaired. Otherwise, this would have turned into a faster than light chase, where his own ship could outrun Sharp’s by four warp factors.

Sharp had penetrated Rell’s shields, reclaimed his boarding party and whatever they’d been after in the computer core. For what good it would do them. It would take them a week to decode it, and in a few minutes, Rell’s men would be boarding that ship to take it back from them anyway.

Blue disruptor bolts flew down on the enemy cruiser, pummeling away patiently at its shields. Do what they may, the humans would not be able to keep them up much longer. Rell knew he could destroy them. But he wanted to know how they’d beamed aboard his ship from a ship moving at warp speed. Such knowledge would be most advantageous.

“Enemy shields have failed, Commander.”

“Prepare tractor beams—“

The human ship leapt away.

Amazed, dumbfounded, Rell sat looking at his viewer and the gray white cloud the humans had just blasted away toward. He kept his mind working.

“I have their course, sir. Ready to overtake.”

Rell made a dark face, sure of what he’d find on the other side of that cloud.

“I think not, helmsman. When we emerged on the other side of that anomaly, we would find the USS Constantinople bearing in on us to reinforce the humans. This Sharp does not act without a plan.”

Rell stood up, his pride tarnished.

“Return us to our patrol zone. I will inspect the computer core and make my report to General Tor.”


(And yes...the misspelling of Claymore is still intentional.)

--guv
« Last Edit: August 23, 2012, 01:47:11 pm by Captain Sharp »
"Jayne?"

"Yeah?"

"You wanna tell me why there's a statue of you here lookin' like I owe him something?"

"Wishin' I could, Captain. "

Offline Grim Reaper

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Re: Cleopatra #2
« Reply #34 on: August 23, 2012, 01:21:48 am »
I read it in one go, I loved the action. Still feels a bit odd that a Star Trek captain would take an action with so many casualties, but a great plan nonetheless. And quite believable Klingon too, not just a pushover or dumb dude, but really a worthy adversary. BTW, I wanted to see how a Tenatran looks, but I can't find on Memory Alpha, you got a link for a species page?
Snickers@DND: If there is one straight answer in that bent little head of yours, you'd better start spillin' it pretty damn quick, or I'm gonna take a large, blunt object, roughly the size of Kallae AND his hat and shove it lengthwise up a crevice of your being so seldomly cleaned that even the denizens of the nine hells would not touch it with a 10-feet rusty pole

Offline Scottish Andy

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Re: Cleopatra #2
« Reply #35 on: August 23, 2012, 01:02:00 pm »
Cool action and I second Grim's comment on Rell. It is always a more satisfying and thus enjoyable story when both sides are smart.
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Mickey: "Wot's that?"
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Offline Captain Sharp

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Re: Cleopatra #2
« Reply #36 on: August 23, 2012, 01:44:11 pm »
BTW, I wanted to see how a Tenatran looks, but I can't find on Memory Alpha, you got a link for a species page?

Nope, made em up. Remember, this was originally an Abramsverse story. That's why the Cleo has 'turbines' (Decided to leave in the tubine reference to imply the ships age even more. And yes, I realize the NX didn't have turbines...).

And thank ya both, sirs. I hate dumb badguys worse than I hate dumb good guys.

And Sharp's plan IS a bit more blood-thirsty than the typical Fed's MO, but again I remind that this was an Abramsverse story. As far as casualties, though, only one person has died on the Fed side, and Sharp is convinced that the Klinks are responsible for far more deaths back on Roanal Colony. Considering what he believes the stakes are, I'd say the USA has launched full-scale invasions for less.

There's a little more to come. I'm hoping this story comes off as entertaining. I was very uncertain, originally. Its almost two stories in one, and nothing like what I'd originally planned upon writing it. (Smart heroes do not a good horror story make...)

--guv
"Jayne?"

"Yeah?"

"You wanna tell me why there's a statue of you here lookin' like I owe him something?"

"Wishin' I could, Captain. "

Offline Commander La'ra

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Re: Cleopatra #2
« Reply #37 on: August 24, 2012, 01:57:38 am »
(Smart heroes do not a good horror story make...)

As you've told me so many, many times.;)
"Dialogue from a play, Hamlet to Horatio: 'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' Dialogue from a play written long before men took to the sky. There are more things in heaven and earth, and in the sky, than perhaps can be dreamt of. And somewhere in between heaven, the sky, the earth, lies the Twilight Zone."
                                                                 ---------Rod Serling, The Last Flight

Offline Captain Sharp

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Re: Cleopatra #2
« Reply #38 on: August 29, 2012, 04:15:36 pm »
Not much left of this one. HEre's the last of it. Would appreciate reviews if possible. Comments if not.


Chapter Eight




Captain’s Log, Supplemental Entry.

It seems we were able to evade pursuit far more easily than I’d anticipated. Either Commander Rell was not as driven to follow as one might expect of Klingons or his ship suffered somewhat more damage than our sensors estimated. We have exited the Tellurian Rift and have had no contact with the Klingons in four hours.
We have set course for a rendezvous with Starship Constantinople to render to them our st—captured Klingon computer files. Captain Stovall’s ship has far more modern decrypt facilities at its disposal. After the rendezvous, we will return to Roanal Colony to check on the status of safekeeping operations there.

Repairs continue underway at a steady pace.




Commander Ellyson sat comfortably across from her CO as the latter reclined in his beaten, non-regulation office chair. The old chair squeaked and protested metallically. Sharp only seemed to relax when here in the privacy of his cabin. She wondered if he turned the lights down when she left.

“Can we consider our mission successful?” She asked of him.

“Command seems to think so. Minton mentioned knowing I would commit to immediate action. He just didn’t know what kind.”

“Right Captain for the right job.”

“Maybe. I just hope the intel on that hard drive was worth the three deaths suffered and the 23 injured.”

Sharp never opened his eyes as he spoke. Burdens of command, dealing with the deaths of those under your orders. They grated on him.

“Will Captain Stovall let us know what’s on those files?”

“If he can. He can be crafty that way.”

“And then we go on back to Roanal?”

“If nothing else, we’ll pick up our security force, maybe grant some shoreleave.”

“Oddly enough, Mister Ford was asking about whether he could request shoreleave there during our visit.”

A slight smile crinkled at the corner of his wide mouth.

“Must have enjoyed sleeping under a real sky.”

“Oh, must have!”

“I think we’ll maintain orbit till repairs are complete. Be sure to schedule the repair crews some planet time as well.”

“Aye, sir.”

Sharp straightened and sat forward in his chair. His right hand trailed off the table to the low cabinet beside.
 
“Care for a mood lightener, Number One?”

Susan smiled.

“Only if it’s above 30 proof.”

Sharp smiled slightly, producing a bottle of bona fide Kentucky bourbon.

“I think this’ll do.” He poured them two short glasses. “Any further business?”

“Just an odd request from the Vulcan Medical Association. They want the most recent medical files on Ensign Lania.”

Sharp paused before sipping the dark liquid in his snifter.

“Nothing too odd about that, I suppose.”

“But why not pass the request through the ensign herself? It was passed to us as an order from Starfleet.”

“Whatever the purpose, Commander, we can rest assured there’s a logical reason. Send the records. We send copies to Starfleet every month anyway.”

Susan let herself mold into the plastic chair beneath her, holding her glass. The stiff whiskey practically scalded the back of her throat. She considered the Vulcan commission’s request. The captain was correct. No big deal. She thought back on the colony world they’d rescued from the Deathclaws. Completing that task hadn’t felt like much of a victory when she had all but known that the culprits had gotten off Scot-free. Now that they’d perhaps brought the Klingons to task for their actions, gotten some vengeance for it and perhaps claimed from them the proof of their deeds and the reasons behind them…she no longer felt so rotten.
Sharp again leaned his old chair back and closed his eyes. He looked tired. He had good reason to be, she supposed. Perhaps one day, she would sit where he’d sat, and be able to compare notes.

Taking another drink of bourbon, she decided she’d like to wait a bit for that day.





Ensign Davenport slowed up as Ford popped out of his cabin’s hatch. He had to stop entirely and press up against the bulkhead a second later as the communications officer went jogging past. Both men watched the shapely posterior recede around the corner. Lania’s running attire covered little, clung tightly, and was soaked with perspiration.

“Makes a man wanna take up joggin’.” Ford commented.

“Um-hmm.” Ron agreed.

“What’s that in your hand there, Navigator?”

Davenport smiled and held up the folded up magazine.

“Just some selective reading. Thought you might appreciate such a treasure.”

“Oh?”

“Um-hmm.”

Ford glanced aft to where three red shirts bent, picking through wiring to reassemble the shattered communication hub before them. Ron gave them a look as well, spotting the exact men he’d claimed the booklet from.

“Maybe we’ll take a private look.” Ford said quietly.

They stepped into Ford’s shared cabin. The helmsman turned on the desk light between the two unadorned bunks that dominated the small room. He settled into his chair gently and took the worn magazine.

“Page 37 is where you’ll find her.”

Ford flipped through the pages as Ron looked on. He felt oddly unsettled looking into this with a fellow officer. As though he was being watched. Likely because it contained nude pictures of a superior officer. Chevy’s head bobbed with surprise when he found the right pictorial.

“Whoa! You ain’t a-sh*ttin!”

“Was surprised myself.”

“Damn! Perky! C cups?”

“Think so.”

“Ominooo?”

Ron nearly jumped out of his skin with the sound emitting right beside his elbow. He bumped into Ford’s rack, almost falling over, looking for the source of the sound.

On the other bunk stood a three foot yellow mop with eyes stared at him with open interest, its head cocked aside in wonder.

“What the hell is that!”

“Omina!”

Ford looked over at his alien bunkmate. To Ron’s aggravation, he didn’t look a bit surprised to find the room occupied.

“That’s my roomy, Ensign Mianar. Ensign Mianar, Ron Davenport, ship’s Navigator.”

Ron held up a hand in an odd wave.

Hi.”

“Oo-ni!”

“Uhm… Is that a…”

Ford glanced over at his roommate.

“Mia! Put on some clothes, we have a guest!”

“Oomanooo-nanooo!”

The mop turned and shambled across its bed. There lay a little red sash with Starfleet signage on it. It grabbed up the sash with its frilly cilia and donned the little uniform.

“Mai is a Mienieni. She ain’t completely used to human customs… and loves scarin’ the hell out of people. Sorry, Ron. Had to give her the chance.”

“She did pretty damn good! I thought she was your roommate’s wig or somethin’!”

Mianar shuffled back to the head of her bed and craned to look over Ford’s shoulder. Ford obligingly scooted the booklet closer to her vantage.

“Oma-noora?”

“Yep, that’s the XO. And yep, she’s nekkid.”

“Oma-na?”

“I figure some photographer came along and threw her a pitch that made it sound like a good idea. Caused her more grief than it was worth, from what I hear.”

“On-wa-na?”

“No, I don’t know why they still call them photographers.”

Ron shook his head.

“Why is it she makes no sense what so ever, but I can perfectly understand everything she’s saying?”

“HellifIknow.”

“Oh.”

“Omi-noo.”

“Ah. Okay, I guess that makes sense.”

Ford flipped the page to the next set of pictures.


End
"Jayne?"

"Yeah?"

"You wanna tell me why there's a statue of you here lookin' like I owe him something?"

"Wishin' I could, Captain. "

Offline Scottish Andy

  • First Officer of the Good Ship Kusanagi
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Re: Cleopatra #2
« Reply #39 on: August 30, 2012, 10:52:35 am »
I like the epilogue here. A few loose ends tidied up, some more left to dangle for possible future stories, and explanations for the rest. A very competent wrap up.

I especially liked the explanation-in-dialogue of the final scene; "hanging a lantern on it" is a great story concept which I need to make more use of it myself, and have the characters reveal the stuff themselves rather than using extended exposition or boring narrative to explain it. I believe my stories will improve once I start using this.
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The Doctor: "Must be a spatio-temporal hyperlink."
Mickey: "Wot's that?"
The Doctor: "No idea. Just made it up. Didn't want to say 'Magic Door'."
- Doctor Who: The Woman in the Fireplace (S02E04)

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