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Taldrenites => Starfleet Command Fan Fiction => Topic started by: Andromeda on June 30, 2005, 04:28:15 am
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I glanced up from the game of chess I was playing with Chief Lick, the head of our regular security force, when I heard the lounge door open. The skinny form of Jake Carawan seemed to stumble in. He ended up leaning against the games locker as if he had meant to land there and grinned with his arms across his chest. “Guess what Jess! Sector HQ wants to talk to you. It’s the Dragon Lady herself.”
I almost blurted out ‘who me?’ but managed to switch it to “Why didn’t you use the intercom?”
“Down for maintenance. Lieutenant Cole told her that, and then he sent me down here to get you.”
I nodded and turned to my opponent. “Sorry Chief, duty calls.” Then I hurried to the bridge. It wasn’t that far. The Holmes wasn’t a large ship. A refitted corvette, it was one of the largest in the Federation Police Fleet. All of which meant it wouldn’t stand up to one of Starfleet’s frigates in combat.
On the bridge I was greeted by the call of “Captain on deck” and Lieutenant Bob Cole getting out of the captain’s chair. “Status is normal,” he said softly as I moved past him. “I’ll talk to Mr. Friedlin about running maintenance routines on first watch.”
“Thanks.” I nodded and sat down. The seat was unpleasantly warm; Cole’s body heat could still be felt in it. Once I was as comfortable as I could get, I signaled to have the communication restored.
Admiral Sally Brice-O’Hara, commander of Sector Five of the Federation Police, filled the screen. The emblems of the Federation and the Police Force showed on the wall behind her desk. The notion of a woman in such a prominent position in the force was intimidating to many of the crew, hence her appellation Dragon Lady. My native Alpha Centauri was a matriarchal society, so a female authority figure was entirely natural.
“Lieutenant Decker,” she said, immediately businesslike. “Starfleet has an emergency situation and your ship and the Watson have been placed at their disposal. Admiral Pekoske of Starfleet will be contacting you shortly with your orders.” I raised my eyebrows slightly in surprise and she noticed the movement. “Yes, it’s that important. This is an opportunity for the Police Division to shine. See that we make a favorable impression.”
“Yes ma’am,” I said. “What about the convoy we’re due to escort?”
“The Adler will escort the convoy alone,” she replied sternly as if she weren’t used to being questioned. “Pirate activity in this sector is low enough that the risk has been deemed acceptable. Good luck lieutenant.”
“Thank you ma’am,” I replied. “We’ll do our best.” She barely nodded and I was staring at a blank screen.
I didn’t have to wait for it to be filled again. A man in the gold uniform of Starfleet’s command branch replaced Admiral Brice-O’Hara. His eyes traveled to the rank insignia on my sleeve and a frown creased his face. “I am Admiral Pekoske,” he said. “Are you the captain of this vessel?”
“Lieutenant Jessie Decker, Federation Police, at your service, sir,” I said cheerfully.
“I see,” he frowned again. “Lieutenant Decker, I presume you are aware that Starfleet has need of your ship and crew.” When I nodded, he continued. “The USS Cousteau, a GSC survey cruiser, failed to make a scheduled check in during the investigation of a newly discovered class-M planet in system PA84-3301. Your mission is to find the Cousteau and render any aid that may be necessary. I am transmitting full details of you orders now.”
“Thank you sir,” I replied, trying to look impassive and competent in command. “We’re happy to provide whatever assistance Starfleet asks of us.” He frowned again, apparently still unconvinced. “Starfleet Command out,” he stated and again left me with a blank screen.
It took ten minutes to clear the extra combat teams we’d been assigned for boarding party combat in case pirates did show up and attack the convoy from the conference room. In that time, I’d scanned the mission orders and invited the Watson’s captain, Lieutenant Vielle, to join us with his XO. The orders didn’t provide much information beyond what the Admiral had told me, just details. By virtue of time in commission and having a better ship I was in command of the mission.
After the short briefing, we parted with the convoy and headed into what for us was unknown space. Traveling at warp five it would take us five days to reach our destination. The map provided by Starfleet still listed most of the territory as we neared PA84-3301 as unexplored.
Police Corvettes were never designed for long patrols and with twenty troopers on board it was extremely crowded. Fortunately, Chief Lick and his men had more loyalty to the ship than the platoon that had been added to the ground forces. Most of the conflict stayed between those two groups. Given the living conditions and the prominent nature of our mission, there was no way I was going to write anyone up on charges. The worst punishment I could think of was sending the offenders to a turn working for Mr. Wurster in the scullery. It did seem to keep the violence down.
I was in my quarters resting, when, on the fourth day of our trip out, Ensign Kevin Etheridge, the weapons officer, knocked on my door. “Ma’am,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about this mission. Since I’m in charge of the gunnery crews I want to have power in the phaser coils and shields up when we come in. These Survey Cruisers are pretty tough ships. If something happened to one, I’d rather it not take us by surprise.”
I thought about it for a moment. Police ships didn’t have a lot of spare power and raising the shields and charging the phasers would force us to shift power away from propulsion. We probably wouldn’t need the extra speed in-system anyway. “Good thinking,” I said and smiled at him. It didn’t relax him as I’d hoped. Etheridge was new to the ship and to Alpha Centauran women. “We’ll have the power available for you,” I quickly continued. “Anything else I can do for you?”
He stared for a moment longer, then said “No ma’am,” and backed out of the room. I resolved to spend more time with Ensign Etheridge. He needed to get over that reaction or at least learn how to control it. I switched on the intercom. “Bridge, this is the captain. Run the standard weapons drills and have the other watches do the same when they come on duty.”
I was awakened by the whistle of the alarm. I glanced at my clock and noted that the first watch had just come on duty. A moment later, Ensign Etheridge’s voice came over the intercom, issuing orders to the phaser, drone, and photon torpedo crews. I relaxed as soon as I figured out it was a drill and went back to sleep.
I made sure I was on the bridge before we reached PA84-3301. We slowed as we entered the system and begin to scan for the[i ]Cousteau[/i]. Lieutenant Cole was standing by the communications board. “No response to hailing frequencies, captain,” the executive officer reported.
Sensors have located the Cousteau in orbit around the second planet,” added Caraway from his scanner position. “Her warp signature is slightly erratic.” We moved deeper into the system and he began to provide more detail. “Planet two is class M. The Cousteau’s warp engines are misaligned and unable to produce a stable warp field. No sign of any damage to the ship.”
“Put it on screen when we have visual contact,” Lieutenant Cole ordered. A few moments later, the cruiser was in view, a majestic sight against the backdrop of the sun. It was in high orbit at a distance of 30,000 kilometers above the planet. With the Watson following us, we approached the Cousteau from the rear.
“Something must have happened to the communication's system," Lieutenant Cole mused.
"We'll know shortly," I replied. "Inform sector command we found the Cousteau still in orbit."
Ensign Etheridge, a squeak in his voice pitching it abnormally high, cried out, “The Cousteau is locking her phasers onto us and preparing to fire.”
“Emergency stop!” I quickly ordered. “Reserve power to forward shields.” Etheridge frantically flipped two switches and Ensign Acton at the helm also engaged in a sudden burst of energy, trying to convert movement energy into shield energy before we were hit. Beams of powerful energy reached out at us from the survey cruiser. I didn’t have time to grab the arms of my seat for support before they struck us full on.
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WB to the boards,
A little dry so far.
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Glad to see you off to such a good start, Andromeda. I'm always interested in stories about the less flashy, often ignored aspects of the ST universe, and yours fits the bill nicely with a police ship squadron.
Little point, though: it is the 23rd century. Guys are probably quite used to women, Centauran or otherwise, in positions of high authority.
That aside, a good start as I said, and I'm interested in where this is going!
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I think you could do better by switching to 3rd person (a peeve of mine) and having character interaction about how they're doing 'starfleet stuff' with a police ship. It picked up at the end though. Maybe continue as is and do a rewrite?
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I'd like a bit more intro but it's a good start. I'll keep one of my minions on this. Now if only you get a decent posting interval, not as for instance La'ra, Kadh, or S and Kieran, i'd be delighted.
And whats so special about AC women? Or do you just mean women in command?
btw guys j/k
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I'm basing the stuff off of the Starfleet Battles GURPS game where AC women run their society and are considered 'sexy'. I was trying to imitate the period of TOS when ST was often used to have women equal to men but was still sexist. In hindsigt, I was mad at my fiance so I had to put in the cut about the reaction to strong female characters.
Thanks for the criticism. Part two will take advangate of it.
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Hello Andromeda, and welcome (back) to the boards!
Always good to have more girls to combat the testosterone-fuelled high-jinks of endless boys-and-their-toys. *smile*
I think that makes three of us now. Maybe we'll band together and form an elite all-girl squadron and... *looks around, returning to reality*
Um.
Yes.
Well, nice start to your tale (may I call you?) Rommie, and keep those Irish eyes a-smiling. Looking forward to more.
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"Rommie"? Someone's been watching Gene Roddenberry's Andromeda recently, I think...
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Maybe we'll band together and form an elite all-girl squadron and... *looks around, returning to reality*
You watch waaaay too much anime. ;D
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I think an elite all-girl squadron would be cool. I've already done it.
http://starbase23.net/Stories-Kadh-12ProjectBko.html
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Wow, the feedback here is awesome and oh so interesting. You can call me Rommie. I use Andromeda because I play the Andromedan Invaders a lot in SFB. When the TV series came out, it got shortened to Rommie. I guess people like it, becuase it's turned into my nick in real life even though it has nothing to do with my real name.
Based on all the criticism - that's the right word even when it's good - instead of going further the way it was, I rewrote the beginning. Here is version two.
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Special Weapons Troops outnumbered regular crewmen in the lounge of the USS Holmes. The Holmes, along with her sister ships Watson and Adler, was a Federation Police Corvette on convoy escort. Each of the three small ships carried four extra boarding parties to defend their herd of freighters from the raiding tactics of the Orion Pirates.
The lounge was a den of noise, aromas and conversation that would never have found its way into such a public space on board a Starfleet ship no matter how small. In the center of the maelstrom, at the proverbial eye of the storm, the ship’s commanding officer, Lieutenant Jessie Decker, and the captain of the Special Weapons Squads that were normally stationed on the Holmes, Chief Petty Officer Dave Lick, were playing 3-D chess. Several black chessmen stood neatly on the table by the SW commander and a smaller group of white ones were scattered about Lieutenant Decker’s side of the table. Jessie rubbed a white knight in her fingers while considering her next move. “Your problem, Jess,” offered the Chief unhelpfully, as she reached for a pawn, “is that you consider all your moves and make the most complicated one whether it’s sound or not.”
Lieutenant Decker hesitated, pulled her hand away, and began to consider anew. The Chief sighed, squeezed the dark hair of his bangs, and rocked backward in his seat.
The door slid open and both players glanced up from their game. The lanky form of Sensor Technician Jake Carawan all but stumbled into the lounge. He ended up leaning against a storage locker with his arms crossed nonchalantly over his chest. His eyes scanned the room and quickly came to rest on the two senior officers. “Guess what Jess?” he blurted out as he walked. “Sector HQ wants to talk to you. It’s the Dragon Lady herself.”
Rising, Lieutenant Decker asked “Why didn’t you use the intercom?” She looked back at the chief and shrugged an apology and headed for the bridge, Carawan trailing her.
“It’s down for maintenance. Lieutenant Cole sent me to get you ASAP, so here I am.” The Holmes, a refitted corvette, was one of the largest ships in the list of Police Assets. As such she wasn’t equal to one of Starfleet’s frigates in combat. Her small size did give the Holmes at least one advantage. The two members of her crew made their way from the amidships lounge to the bridge in under a minute without having to enter the turbolift system.
Robert Cole, the Holmes’ executive officer, had already risen from the command seat and was standing beside it when Lieutenant Decker entered the bridge. “Captain on deck,” he called out and then told her, “Our status is normal. Admiral Brice-O’Hara is on channel two.” For her ears only he added, “I’ll speak to Mr. Friedlin about not running maintenance routines during the first watch.”
Jessie nodded and quickly occupied the seat. It still held the uncomfortable warmth of its previous occupant. She made a brief scan of her tactical displays and then signaled for the channel to Headquarters to be opened.
Admiral Sally Brice-O’Hara, commander of Sector Five of the Federation Police Force, quickly filled the main viewscreen. Brice-O’Hara was examining a padd and Jessie found herself distracted by the holographic painting of the Draconian Gardens by Carin Sedjak, a famous artist from Jessie’s native Alpha Centauri, which was between the flags of the Federation and the Police directorate. Jessie had a copy of the painting in her quarters. She suspected that she was looking at the original.
The admiral finished what she had been doing and looked up at the viewscreen. “Lieutenant Decker,” she said, skipping the usual pleasantries, “Starfleet has a situation on its hands that requires immediate attention. Your squadron is the only force of starships in the area. They asked for our assistance and you will be providing it. I will transfer you to Admiral Pekoske of Starfleet momentarily.
“Understand lieutenant, that this is an opportunity for the Police Directorate. See that we make a favorable impression.” She looked down at the padd, obviously finished.
“Admiral,” Jessie asked, feeling it her duty. Although there was little danger of pirate activity in this remote sector, the possibility still existed and she felt the freighters were her responsibility. “We are currently escorting a convoy to Narimar III. What about them?”
For the first time Jessie could ever remember, Admiral Brice-O’Hara smiled; her unofficial moniker was well-deserved. “I’m glad you asked lieutenant. The Adler will remain with the convoy while Holmes and Watson are assigned to Starfleet. Should your mission preclude your returning to the convoy, Starfleet will send a squadron of F4s from Narimar III to join it. Any further questions?”
Jessie gave the painting one last look and replied, “No ma’am.” There was a moment of static and a younger man with a severe expression filled the screen. “This is Lieutenant Jessie Decker, commanding officer of the Holmes.”
The man responded with a frown. “Admiral Pekoske, Starfleet Command. Are you familiar with the Galactic Survey Cruiser?” he asked doubtfully.
Jessie nodded. “Similar to a heavy cruiser in size, the GSC is designed for seeking new resources for the Federation. It trades armament for sensors and other special equipment.”
Jessie was surprised to see the Admiral’s frown deepen. “Are you any relation to Matt Decker?”
“He was my uncle, sir,” Jessie answered stiffly. It was a painful subject to her, both because of his death and the effect it had on her career. She had joined the Police Directorate instead of Starfleet to escape the illustrious family legacy.
It came as no surprise to her that the Admiral’s expression brightened. “My condolences, Lieutenant.” Jessie nodded faintly and the Admiral resumed his briefing. “The USS Cousteau, a GSC, failed to make a regular check-in while exploring a previously undiscovered planet. Your ship and,” he glanced downward, “the Watson are to investigate what happened and render any assistance necessary. We are sending you the coordinates, information on the Cousteau and PA84-3301, the system she was investigating. Report immediately on locating the Cousteau and as soon as you learn anything. Good Luck, Lieutenant.”
Her executive officer, Lieutenant Cole, had moved across the bridge and was standing by the communications console looking over the shoulder of the operator. “We are receiving the information from Starfleet Command. I’ll have it transferred to the conference room as soon as we have it cleared.” Jessie smiled; that room, normally empty, was also being used to accommodate their extra crew.
Later that day, officers from both Police Corvettes met to discuss the mission orders. As quickly as possible, the conference room was restored for the use of the crew. Twenty extra troopers was a slight, albeit welcome, imposition when expecting to face pirate raiders. When the mission involved use of the Corvette’s other facilities, the space became rather tight.
The officer’s mess was a cramped space that barely accommodated the Holmes’ six commissioned officers. Under the circumstances, it was a welcome escape. For the four days of their journey, it had provided a sanctuary against the increasingly boisterous crew. “It’s a good thing we’re supposed to reach PA84-3301 tomorrow,” Jessie observed. “Otherwise I think half of our combat team would be in the brig.”
Chief Lick, also responsible for ship’s security as well as the combat team, replied “It wouldn’t hold them all anyway. There’s no need to worry, though. I put up a sign this morning that anyone caught brawling would be assigned scullery duty.”
In the tiny space, the laughter of six people echoed loudly. “Any guesses on what we’ll face?” Jessie asked as calm was quickly restored.
Ensign Thomasina Acton, who served both as helmswoman and navigator for the Holmes, offered, “I’ve been looking at similar incidents. It’s likely they’ve got a problem with their comm. system and will need some parts.”
“All the same,” countered the weapons officer, Ensign Etheridge, the newest addition to the ship, “I’d like to come in with the phaser capacitors charged and shields up just in case.”
“Good idea, Kevin,” Jessie answered. “A little caution can go a long way. A GSC is quite large compared to our little ships. Have any of you ever seen one?” None of them had. “Beautiful ships. Uncle Matt served on one before he got the Constellation. We got a tour when I was a kid. Everything was bright and shiny. It must have been a scientist’s dream to serve on one. He always said that was where the real action was.”
Jessie was surprised to find herself thinking of her uncle. It had always been a subject she had avoided. He had died a hero’s death, destroying a doomsday weapon. It reminded her of the dangers of uncharted space. She much preferred the well-traveled space lanes where the perils were known and were usually no worse than navigational hazards. Even the Orions were a known quantity.
She suddenly realized that the conversation at the table had stopped and everyone was looking at her. “I’m sorry, I was distracted,” she said. “What did I miss?”
“We were discussing crewman Carawan’s idea on configuring the shuttle as a scanning platform to give us some kind of EW ability,” replied Lieutenant Cole. “We don’t really have the power to do much otherwise.”
“We also don’t have another shuttle in case we need it for something else,” snorted Chief Lick. “So we wondered which side you were on in all this.”
“Neutral,” Jessie said with a laugh. “I think it would depend too much on the situation. Why don’t you guys run a few drills to see how long it takes to pull the spare out of storage?” She was rewarded with a few groans.
“You’re really looking forward to this, aren’t you?” he said and shook his head. “Well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I think it’s time for me to be going before somebody gives me extra work beyond what I’ve got already.” He rose quickly and departed. The rest soon followed suit.
The next day, the two ships entered the PA84-3301 system. Holmes led the way, so it was Jake Carawan from her sensor station who first reported contact. “Captain, sensors detect a warp trail around the second planet. Our data on the system reports it as class M.”
“Adjust course for the second planet,” Jessie ordered, “and inform Watson.” The two police ships headed into the system. A few moments passed and Carawan was able to provide a clearer picture.
“The Cousteau is in orbit around the second planet. Her warp output is fluctuating and unstable. She probably can’t make warp. There is no sign of any damage to the ship’s hull.”
“She does not respond to hails,” XO Coles added.
“Bring us in behind her,” Jessie ordered. “We’ll send a shuttle over to find out what’s going on over there. Keep up on the hails. She may not be able to answer, but hopefully she can hear us. Let them know what we plan to do.”
With Holmes still slightly ahead, the two corvettes approached the orbiting cruiser. “Captain!” Ensign Etheridge suddenly called out, fear giving his voice unexpected volume. “The Cousteau is locking phasers and preparing to fire.”
Jessie barely had time to order, “Reserve power to forward shields. Emergency deceleration,” before the powerful beams of energy struck the Holmes full on. Too late, Jessie grabbed the arms of her chair for support.
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1000 times better.
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Thanks for the permission Rommie. :-) And like Kadh said, this is better. Good job. :thumbsup:
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Thanks guys.
Part two will be out early next week.
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I do like the revised parts, though 1st person doesn't bother me at all. I grew up on Raymond Chandler and still think well-done 1st person prose is beautiful.
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Interesting, indeed.
I like it better revised, with the third person POV. I don't dislike 1st person, but it can be a little trickier to pull off. Also, to me, there are just some stories in which 1st person just wouldn't work, no matter how well done it was. This isn't a criticism of your story, by any means, merely a general observation. Heck, I don't even use first person in my own stories, because I don't think I could pull it off. ;D
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I can't remember the last time I used first person POV. I tend to use Third Person POV and put things in past tense, is if reporting on them from the future.
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I like the 1st-person POV. That's the way I've written two of my three stories, and most agree that those are my better ones. It is challenging though, but I'm proud that they seem well done.
Keep it up, Andromeda, and give us part 2!
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I recently returned from holidays and will finish rewriting part two very soon. Tomorrow is likely.
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Nice rewrite babe, but i'd like new material :D ;)
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Yes, c'mon Rommie. Give us more!
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PART 1a
Jessie’s ears were ringing and she found she was clutching her armrest with a death grip. She could hear Rob Cole speaking but she couldn’t quite make out the words. She pushed herself upright and winced from a sudden pain in her chest. “Repeat that,” she commanded through gritted teeth.
He turned to face her and she could make out what he said as much through reading his lips as hearing. “Watson is moving to cover us; they’re going to distract the Cousteau’s fire. Our shields held but there are minor injuries throughout the ship.”
She faced the viewscreen in time to watch as Watson moved across Cousteau’s bow and the Survey Cruiser fired its phasers at the police corvette. “Get us out of firing range,” she said, careful to take only shallow breaths to avoid the pain. “Tell Watson to follow.” The police ships easily moved around the larger cruiser, which began to follow them away from the planet. When the two corvettes were outside of the orbit of the third planet, the cruiser returned to its original position in orbit around the second planet.
Two minutes later her ears had stopped ringing in time for an impromptu strategy conference on the bridge of the Holmes with the staff of the Watson attending via the main viewscreen. “Did you notice, Captain Decker,” asked her opposite number, “when we went across her bow, the Cousteau only attacked us with her phasers?” Jessie nodded. “Also,” he continued, “that their attacks on our two ships were not very tactically coordinated?”
Lieutenant Coles summed it up for both crews. “Whoever is in control of that ship isn’t familiar with its capabilities yet and probably doesn’t have control of its photon torpedoes. It’s the same with the warp signature. They can use the warp engines but not efficiently enough to leave the system under warp power.”
Thanks to her sore ribs, Jessie had been trying to let others carry the conversation. Her executive officer had made an important point and she wanted to address it. “So far, and that’s our chief concern. If whoever they are do manage to break orbit and leave the system under full power, there’s no way we can keep up with them. We’ve got to get aboard and get control of that ship before that happens.”
“From the way y’all are talking,” said Chief Lick, betraying a hint of southern drawl, “that you don’t think the crew of the Cousteau is in control of the ship. That will mean boarding party combat. I’d like to know as much as I can about what we’re facing before we have to commit any troopers to combat.”
“I agree,” Jessie said as a plan began to take shape in her mind. “Mr. Carawan, how close will we need to get to that ship for you to ascertain the status of her photon torpedoes and crew?”
The only way to see if they’ve overridden the lock-outs is with the Cousteau’s computer, but at six clicks we can tell if they’re armed” the tech answered. “From four we can get a good bio scan through their shields.”
“We should study the planet as well,” added the captain of the Watson. “Try to determine the link between the ship and the planet if possible.”
“We’ll take the ship,” Jessie decided. “Our shields are slightly better and our equipment is slightly newer. Once we’ve engaged them, you come around the other side of the planet and see what you can find out. We’ll signal each other when we’ve accomplished our tasks. Future actions based on what we find out, but eventually we probably will have to attempt a boarding action.”
The captain of the Watson saluted and the viewscreen once again showed the local system. Jessie silently thanked whatever power had provided them with the extra troopers for anti-piracy patrol. “All right gentlemen,” she said, “our mission is to scan the Cousteau to find out what we can about her armament and crew. Chief Lick, I may want a raiding party available to rescue members of the original crew or capture some of the current occupants. Any questions?” When there were none, beyond the silent wonder of how they would face the cruiser alone, she said, hoping it would be some comfort, “I’m relying on our maneuverability to keep us out of their primary weapons arcs. Inform HQ of our situation and plans and let’s go.”
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Inform HQ of our situation and plans and let’s go.”
Though I'm liking action driven persons, I'd say filling in the HQ of the found situation would be my nr1 priority. Then formulate a plan of action and setting it into motion.
Alternatively I'd formulate the plan, inform the HQ and requesting a go and then handle.
But then again, I like our little AC babe, so let's see what you come up with next...
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Now if only you get a decent posting interval, not as for instance La'ra, Kadh, or S and Kieran, i'd be delighted.
Thhpppt. :P I'm workin' on it, I'm workin' on it. ;)
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Hey Rommie, nice little installment, but "Part 1a" is right! *smile* It's like Andy's first chapters in that they're kinda short and should be clumped together. I like your plan too, Rommie. Intelligence gathering before any kind of offensive action is very Federation.
Nah Grim, Rommie's doing it in the right order. Time is of the essence here, as two dinky little police cutters cannot wait for a starship-class ship now proven to be hostile to regain full power.
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Now if only you get a decent posting interval, not as for instance La'ra, Kadh, or S and Kieran, i'd be delighted.
Thhpppt. :P I'm workin' on it, I'm workin' on it. ;)
HA that's what they all say :P
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I'd say filling in the HQ of the found situation would be my nr1 priority.
I don't want them to be in that close kind of contact with command. Captain Kirk never waited before acting and I don't want my captain to have to either.
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fair enough. Well let's see how you're gonna solve this mess :D
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"Part 1a" is right! *smile* It's like Andy's first chapters in that they're kinda short and should be clumped together.
I wanted to put both parts of it at the same time, but felt I was taking too long as it was so I went ahead and posted half of it.
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Excellent. I like 3rd person over 1st, but even at that, I was liking the first draft. I also like the use of the police corvettes. Often over-looked, even by me, even though B'rel is barely larger than one.
About the 'strong female figures' nit-pick the others had, however, I am a bit more pesimistic. I really don't think so much of us humans as a race to see us being over our inborne sexism and racial crutches even 200 years from now. I live amid the crux of such things dayly, and know that as soon as one's back is turned, all sorts of ugly is said about those 'not typically in charge (I shave my head, wear all-black, even my work uniform, listen to Goth and heavy metal tunes and don't go to church...all of this while living in a 'Christian' town... Plenty is said about myself...), etc... It's and ugly truth, and it ain't right, but I think Roddenberry was a bit over-optimistice with TNG, and TOS might have been a bit more correct, at least in the whole women in service thing. And yes, I realize there are women in command positions even now (As La'ra is probably even now GLEEFULLY thinking about replying), but I figure (but not garantee) that they also have to deal with the ugly monster as well...
Now that that uncalled-for rant is over, please feed me more. While we can't feed the Kadh, Ron'jar's belly is never full. :)
--thu guv'!
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Here it is, Part 1b of Gremlins
Longer, more exciting, able to leap tall buidings in a single bound. After reading the reviews of If Wishes Were Horses, I moved two paragraphs from the next part into this part. See! I learned something from just reading the forum here.
Part 1b
[/size]
Time dragged out slowly as the Watson moved into position. Jessie had to force herself not to drum her fingers on her armrest. She tried taking a deep calming breath but found it painful. She forced herself to breathe slowly in and out until she could take that deep breath. “Captain, is there something I can assist you with?” asked Lieutenant Cole.
He had no doubt seen her wince. To admit to a problem now meant missing the biggest mission of her life. “Thank you XO, I don’t require anything,” she said formally. He gave her a lingering look before returning to his duties.
Finally, they received the signal that Watson was ready. “Raise our ECM to level two,” Jessie ordered, “and maintain as high a speed as possible. Remember this is an information gathering pass. Can we overload a photon torpedo and hold it while still beating the best speed they’ve demonstrated?”
“Aye Captain,” replied ensign Etheridge from his weapons console, “but it will drain the batteries fairly quickly and we won’t be able to recharge it.”
“Helm,” she said, “once tactics is ready, take us in. Six clicks distance from the Cousteau, four once we’re out of her torpedo arc. Move and mark.” She listened for the collection of acknowledgements before nodding to herself and the Holmes was underway.
The Cousteau was still in orbit around the second planet, but turned to face them as Holmes came out from the shadow of the third. “Cousteau has launched a drone,” ensign Etheridge said. “It’s standard type one. We will be able to evade it without using our own racks.”
“Destroy it,” Jessie overrode him. She didn’t want their preplanned course altered if possible. When the missile reached effective range, a smaller drone was released from the Holmes and intercepted it, destroying both weapons. The two ships closed and the Cousteau engaged its electronic systems, neutralizing the protection Holmes systems provided. “Begin erratic maneuvers,” Jessie ordered.
Just in time, as all four of the main phaser banks of the Cousteau opened fire. The smaller ship rocked slightly, but this time everyone was prepared. The shields held and the Holmes made its close pass of the saucer. “I’ll need us to stop using EM, to get good data,” said Carawan. The Holmes steadied its course and he leaned into his scanner. “Photon tubes are cold, point defense phasers are hot, scout sensors are not active,” he said without looking up. As they passed along the larger ship, he announced, “biological data coming in. Approximately 300 life signs aboard. None human.”
Jessie didn’t have time to wonder what had happened to the crew. The cruiser began turning to pursue them. “Signal Watson. Tell them we have engaged the Cousteau.”
Lieutenant Cole informed her when the signal was transmitted. “Bring us around, keep our flank shields towards the Cousteau. I want to bring down one of her forward shields.”
The Holmes was able to make the turn inside the larger cruiser and had its weapons centerlined on the Cousteau before the cruiser was ready to fire. “Batteries exhausted,” reported engineering, “we’re going to have to reduce speed.”
“Negative,” Jessie responded and interjected “Fire!” into her response. “Keep the speed high and recharge what we can.” Their own phasers lanced forward, accompanied by the heavier ‘thrum’ of the photon torpedo being launched.
“Direct hit!” Ensign Etheridge announced. “Cousteau has reinforced the shield and is kicking in their batteries. It’s holding.”
“Fire defensive phasers,” Jessie added.
“That did it!” he said excitedly, “their number two shield has collapsed. No damage to the ship itself.”
“Well done,” Jessie complemented him. “Chief Lick,” she said into her intercom. “We have downed a shield on the Cousteau and will be making another pass. “Transporter control is yours. Get a team in, find out what they are, and get out.” He replied with a tersely grunted “Aye.”
Then the Cousteau returned fire. Only half of the main phasers were able to bear on the Holmes, but she added her defensive phasers also. Jessie could tell immediately that the Holmes had been hurt. “Damage amidships,” reported the XO. “Auxiliary control is offline. Casualty reports: minor injuries only.” She sighed in relief, feeling a sharp ache in her chest in response.
“Prepare a high energy turn. We don’t want that shield being hit again when we make our next run,” she ordered. “Just enough power in weapons to bring down any reinforcement they might use. Use the rest in movement and defense.”
Despite the hurt done to their ship, and their newfound respect for the firepower of the cruiser, her orders were carried out quickly. It was made worse on their next approach when crewman Carawan announced “energy signature in one of their photon tubes. It's arming. It looks like overload strength.” There was a moment of silence on the bridge. A single torpedo from the cruiser would be enough to knock down one of their shields on its own.
Holmes raced in, fired its phasers, this time doing unavoidable damage to the cruiser. “It’s a good hit, Captain.” Etheridge reported. “Damage scattered across their systems: “drone launcher, main bridge, defensive phaser, several hull hits, impulse engines, and a photon torpedo tube,” he added excitedly.
“Not the one that’s arming,” Carawan announced somberly.
“Marines away,” Lieutenant Cole said. “Cousteau is in firing position.”
“High-energy turn, now!” Jessie exclaimed. “Get us out of here.” The ship shuddered as the Cousteau fired, but felt ok.
“Aft shield collapsed,” Etheridge reported. “No internal damage.”
The Holmes lurched again, this time from the turn Jessie had ordered, and made its way back alongside the cruiser. As they passed it, the transporters collected the boarding party from the Cousteau. “Stay outside of overload range for that torpedo,” she said, “and try to keep us off their centerline. Maximum defense and do what you can for our shields.”
“Chief Lick reports they have captured an alien from the Cousteau,” Lieutenant Coles informed her. “He also reports they’ve brought back a dead one for Dr. Law to take apart.” There was some snickering. “Belay that kind of talk on the bridge,” Jessie said quickly.
In the chagrinned silence that followed, Ensign Acton reported from the helm “Cousteau is not pursuing. They’re turning back toward the planet.”
“They received some kind of signal from the planet,” Lieutenant Coles explained. “Watson has apparently been discovered.”
“Pursuit course,” Jessie ordered quickly. “Do what we can to slow them down. Alert Watson that the Cousteau has an overloaded photon torpedo armed.”
Despite sniping from the corvette, the Cousteau returned to the planet and began pursuing the Watson. Once the police ship was beyond the orbit of the third planet, the Cousteau turned back toward the second planet. Holmes quickly evaded the cruiser and sped after its cohort.
Safely away from the Cousteau’s weapons, and with the adrenalin kick wearing off, Jessie realized how much worse she feeling. She concentrated and registered her XO saying, “I hope the Watson learned something because right now the only think I can think of is blasting her until the computer ejects the saucer to prevent its destruction and towing that back to a starbase.”
Another idea was already forming itself in her mind. She opened her mouth to speak and coughed instead. She raised her hand to cover her mouth and it came down red. She stared at it blankly, barely hearing Lieutenant Coles shouting, “Medical emergency on the bridge.”
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Good installment, Andromeda. A decent length (and I'd now know, lol...) and a nice, brief SFB combat section. I'm interested to see what the aliens are, what their relation is to the planet, and how they took the GSC.
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Yes Rommie, give us some more!
Like Andy said, a good installment with a meticulous plan of battle. I certainly appreciate someone who gives us battles scripted within the boundaries of each ship's capabilities, as the whole "we fired and hit them, then they fired back and missed" style of storytelling doesn't tell us awhole lot. The essentials, sure, but not what a ship is really capable of, if she's straining to do it or not.
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Yeah, I particularly like the batteries being used up comment. Who ever writes that?
Not a bad cliffhanger from you either.
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Well that's something alright. Nice cliffhangers
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Part 3, in it's entirety. No 3a, b, or bloody c. There's a denoument to follow, but this concludes the main story. I think it is pretty long.
Part III
[/size]
Rob Cole waited until the turbolift doors closed behind the medical team that was carrying Lieutenant Decker to sickbay before he sat in her chair. Three years older than his captain and past the point where he could expect his own command, he couldn’t help but think that his golden opportunity had come. He wished that he could come up with a better plan, one that would make headquarters take notice.
He then faced the chore of informing Watson. Lieutenant Blake looked surprised to see Rob in the command chair. “Captain Decker was injured and is in sickbay.”
“I see,” the captain of the Watson replied thoughtfully. “Will she be okay?”
Rob shook his head. “We don’t know yet. I’m not a doctor so I hate to speculate, but I’m going to be in command of Holmes for the rest of the mission.”
Blake nodded again and smoothed his dark hair. “Given the situation, I’m assuming command of the mission.”
He should have expected it, but the announcement came as a shock to Cole. He could see no legitimate way to deny Lieutenant Blake’s pronouncement. “The mission command is yours, sir,” he said. “We were successful in our efforts to capture a live alien. It’s in the brig and the commander of our marine contingent is interrogating it now.”
“I’ve received your data already on the battle with the Cousteau,” Blake said. “Have you any recommendations for our next step.”
Cole frowned. “Unless the interrogation reveals anything, the best I can come up with is to attack the Cousteau with everything we have until the ship’s computer separates the saucer section to prevent it from being destroyed. Then we tow it back to starbase.”
“Noted,” Blake answered. “Report as soon as you have any information.” The communication ended abruptly and Rob wondered if the Watson’s captain had felt as left out of the loop earlier as he did now.
Testily he punched his comm. button and hailed the brig. “Chief Lick, report on the status of the alien’s interrogation and I hope it’s good news.”
“I’ve been trying to contact you for a few minutes,” the Chief replied. He sounded upset. “The prisoner is dead.”
“What’d you kill it for?” Cole shot back.
“We didn’t,” Chief Lick answered evenly. “It just keeled over a few minutes ago. Without the doc taking a look at it, we won’t know why.”
“The captain’s in sickbay so it’s going to be some time before she gets around to your alien. You’re on your own. Perhaps have your corpsman cut open the other one.”
The Chief’s expression went from anger to concern in an instant. “Is she alright?”
“When I know something, you’ll know something,” Cole said and cut him off.
As much as he didn’t like it, he had the news passed on to the Watson. It wasn’t long after that when Lieutenant Blake contacted him again. “We’ve reviewed your information. Before we try anything as drastic as your recommendation, we’re going to attempt to seize control of the Cousteau by boarding her. How soon can you be ready to head back into battle?”
“We’ll be ready in a few minutes. I’ll take the time to tell my marine contingent. Are you certain we have the transporter capability?”
“Between our two ships we can do it,” Blake replied confidently. “It’ll be just like taking a freighter back from the Orions.”
“Aye sir,” Coles responded. He had voiced his concern and been overridden. There was nothing else he could do.
Rob left the bridge to Ensign Williams, and headed down to talk to Chief Lick. He felt this was a job he needed to do in person. As he expected, the Chief did not take it well. “I’ve been on that ship, Lieutenant. We’re not going to have time to set up a secure beaming point before they’ll be all over us. Get me on the comm. I need to talk to that guy and explain it to him.”
“That’s outside of the chain of command,” Rob responded glumly. “You have your orders.”
The Chief nodded and a frown creased his face. It was almost instantly replaced by a grin. “At least allow me to talk to my opposite number on Watson so we can coordinate our actions. Surely I can do that.”
Rob answered the Chief’s grin with one of his own. “That I can let you do. I’ll let you get back to work.”
He thought about taking a few minutes to go and look at the enemy and decided it was worth it. The body remained in a cell in the brig. It didn’t look like a particularly frightening creature. If it hadn’t been a hostile being, Rob might have considered it a candidate for being a pet. It was little more than half his height and covered in brown fur with white and black patches. For all that its face was surprisingly human. It reminded him more of a dog than anything else, though. “Doesn’t look like much,” he commented to the marine on duty in the brig.
“No sir,” the man answered. “There are just a lot of them and the ones we met were all carrying phasers.”
“Ah,” Rob said. “I don’t suppose we even know what they call themselves. Did it say anything before it died?”
The man shook his head. “We call ‘em gremlins sir, since they’re infesting the Starfleet ship.” Rob smiled at him, patted the marine on the shoulder, recalled his name; “Carry on trooper Marsden,” he said, and headed back to the bridge.
He was halfway back when he was paged by the bridge. “Doctor Law has a report on the captain, sir.” Rob looked down the corridor. He was near sickbay already so he altered his course to pay a visit.
The outer office was empty so Rob passed into the infirmary. Three of the beds were occupied, but the one the physician was beside garnered his attention. It was rare to see anything attached to a patient: the beds took care of just about anything, but Captain Decker was wearing a breathing mask. She looked very pale and fragile suddenly. “Doc,” he asked, “is she going to be alright?”
Jan Law turned at the sound of his voice. The mousy woman was holding a medical tricorder in her hands. “Don’t be alarmed,” she said, addressing the worry in his voice but looking down at the device. “She’ll recover. If she’d come to me as soon as it happened, we would have just fixed her rib and she could have gone back on duty in a few minutes. As it is, it finally punctured her lung and the lung collapsed. Oh, I’m sorry.” She looked up. “She’ll be fine. Right now I’m keeping her sedated and on artificial respiration. You can have her back after a few days of rest.”
Rob nodded from a distance. The doctor intimidated him. The woman did her best to be personable but always seemed to be more interested in her instruments than in other people. “I’m sure the crew will be happy to hear that.”
“Oh, yes,” she replied. “I imagine they will.” An insistent beep from a nearby comm. panel and a message from the bridge sent Rob hurrying on his way. Watson was ready.
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[okay, it was long. Too long for the post size limit.]
***
[/size]
He ordered the ship into battle, following Lieutenant Blake’s plan and then contacted the marine’s commander again. “You tell the doc to be ready,” the Chief said, “because it’s going to be bloody.” He gave Rob a death’s head grin. “We’ll give ‘em hell sir.”
“I’m sure you will. Transporter control is now at your discretion. Good luck.”
As before, Jake Carawan was quick to give a running status report on the Cousteau. “Shields repaired since the last combat. Other damaged systems,” he added with some surprise, “are still disabled.” Rob considered that a good thing. The cruiser with two working photons would be a nightmare. He wondered if the ‘gremlins’ weren’t able to manage repairs. It had been more than enough time, he though, to repair at least the torpedo tube.
One tube was bad enough, he quickly decided, as he watched it blow through the forward shield of the Watson as they approached. The police ship launched a shuttle which released a scatterpack of drones. Defensive phasers from the Cousteau knocked out two of the six drones and the other four downed two of its shields in return.
Holmes took the lead position from Watson and closed on the cruiser. The larger ship fired its heavy phasers at the police cutter and destroyed its forward shields as well. Some energy penetrated into the ship. Rob held his breath when he saw the location until the damage report said sickbay was unharmed. The collective release of air made him realize he wasn’t the only one.
With all three ships having shields down, there was no need for special maneuvering to get them in position to board the Cousteau. The biggest challenge was in keeping the smaller maneuverable police ships behind the cruiser so it couldn’t use its heavy weapons. In return they couldn’t fire on the Cousteau without risking injuring their own marines.
Crewman Ingolia at the communications station turned on the box intercom so the bridge crew could hear what was going on. The first sound was Chief Lick’s voice, saying “Team one away, team two into the transporter.” After that, it became confusing.
“DZ clear – we’ve got company – six at the hatch.” The sound of phaser fire punctuated the speech and the voices lost their distinctiveness. “They’re trying to flank us – Cobb, Loewe, cover position one – team two in.” Rob was sure enough of the voices at this point that he thought marines from Watson were in with his own troops. “Ahh – they got Jody – break out the pr4 – clear the zone – can’t sir – Sam, Sam, Sam! - there’s too many of them.” The phaser fire was a steady hum now and there were indistinct yells and screams. If the gremlins were making sounds, Rob couldn’t distinguish them from those of the marines. Then there was the reassuring hum of the heavier phaser cannon. The feeling didn’t last long. “They’ve got one too – cover! – hit the deck – break out the other one.” There was more screaming and then a panicky voice shrieked for an emergency beam out. After that, the fighting didn’t last long and the voices on the speaker were more controlled as the marines returned to the ship.
Rob looked around the bridge to the ashen faces. “Speaker off,” he ordered. “Contact Watson, recommend we withdraw.”
Chief Lick’s second in command contacted the bridge. “It was no good sir. There were too many of them to establish a safe beam in point. We were never able to get an edge.”
“Where’s the Chief?” Rob asked. He didn’t want to lose both his captain and the chief on the same mission. His chance for promotion looked like it was rapidly disappearing. He banished the unwanted thought angrily.
“Sickbay, sir. He took one in the leg. He’ll survive, sir. He’s one tough bastard.”
Rob had to switch his attention to the other conversation as Lieutenant Blake appeared on his viewscreen. “Lieutenant Cole, we’re going to back off for a moment – long enough for you to prepare your shuttle as a scatterpack and us to retrieve ours if we can. Then we’ll try your idea and prepare for a long sublight trip.” Blake’s expression was grim.
The Cousteau pursued the two police ships for only a short distance as they were able to quickly distance themselves from it. Rob took it as a sign that the gremlins were learning the limits of their ship’s acceleration and maneuverability. It would make future combat more dangerous. He fervently hoped that it didn’t mean they were also figuring out how to balance the warp engine output.
Lieutenant Blake asked for a report on the scatterpack preparation. Rob looked over at Ensign Etheridge. “Thirty seconds, sir,” he echoed the weapons officer’s statement.
“Very good,” Blake replied. “We turn back in sixty seconds. We go in together: we want it to move into the scatterpack.”
Rob acknowledged his orders. He really wanted to confer with Holmes’s two senior officers. Both were in sickbay though and he didn’t have enough time to make it there and back again. With a sigh and a frown, he tried to figure out how to beat the Cousteau down without having his own ship blown up in return. Two shields on his ship were already down and one was weak. They had already taken internal damage. Watson was in slightly better shape, but the older cutter wouldn’t take as much as Holmes before being disabled. They had gotten lucky against the cruiser so far, but each hit against his small ship was going to be far more critical than each shot the cruiser took. What the marines had taken earlier, he expected to take now. Rob hoped the end result would be better.
Chief Lick stared at the stump of his leg and the fancy medical gadget that started just above the knee. He looked up and around him at his boys lying on beds in sickbay. His worst fears had been justified and when some fool from the other ship had panicked a tough situation had nearly turned into a disaster. He resolved to find a way to get some Romulan ale to his own ship’s transporter techs. They had gotten everyone out, even the dead.
He felt the ship’s engines respond as they accelerated away from the Cousteau. What could they do now other than get in a bloody firefight for which he held little hope? A few quick passes, he could expect success from but the superior durability of a Starfleet cruiser was going to tell in a long battle. His eyes fell on one of the few beds that didn’t hold a marine. “Doc,” he called. “I need you to wake up the Captain.”
Jan Law looked down at her tricorder; a reaction Lick knew meant she wasn’t sure of what she should do. He also knew enough not to say any more. If the doctor felt it was safe to do so, she would wake the captain. Otherwise no matter how many times he asked, in whatever terms, he would not sway her. She was a good sawbones. “Alright,” she finally said, “but she’s not leaving that bed.”
“Even to save the ship?” Lick said, trying not to sound like he was being serious. It didn’t work.
“If it will save the ship,” the doctor said, deadpan, “she can leave but I will have to accompany her.” Doctor Law removed the oxygen mask and pressed a hypospray to the Captain’s neck. It did not take long to work.
Chief Lick watched as Lieutenant Decker’s breathing became more rapid and her eyes opened. He let the doctor handle the captain’s initial reaction. Then he got her attention. “We’re in a tough spot, ma’am,” he said. “Blake on the Watson’s in command. We tried to board Cousteau and got beat off. Now they’re gonna try and get the computer to eject the saucer automatically due to massive damage. I don’t know what we…”
He had to stop as she interrupted him. “Is the captive still alive?”
“How did you know?” he asked, astonished.
“Get me to the bridge,” she said tersely. The combat alert sounded.
Holmes was leading this time, her scatterpack already deployed and drones launched, and the two ships were nearing photon torpedo range for the Cousteau. Rob Cole sat uncomfortably in the center chair and prayed the first shot would miss. He gave it no thought when the turbolift door opened.
“Mr. Coles, I’d like my chair back,” Jessie Decker said.
He could have cheered, Rob was so relieved. It wasn’t until he stood up that he noticed Doctor Law standing beside the Captain. Decker was probably trying to be a hero and had somehow conned the doctor into certifying her fit for duty. He hesitated then decided to let her have it. “The bridge is yours, Captain. Welcome back.”
“Thank you,” she replied and quickly, but gingerly sat down. “Let the drones overtake us,” she said, quickly sizing up the situation. “Give us as much ECM as you can. Then turn and run toward the third planet. Make sure Cousteau pursues.”
Rob Cole could almost feel the anger behind the sudden beeping of the comm. channel from the Watson. “What do you think you’re doing, Lieutenant?” the other cutter’s captain asked.
Jessie replied calmly, “Sorry I couldn’t inform you sooner, Bart." Rob was surprised to hear his usually formal captain, use Watson's captain's first name. I’ve got a plan to save our bacon and the Cousteau too. Stay with us and keep your aft shields up.”
Rob expected him to protest, but Blake answered with curt agreement. The two ships turned and retreated, with the cruiser in pursuit. With no ships to worry it, the Cousteau easily handled the drones and destroyed the shuttle.
“I want hit-and-run raids ready with whatever marines both ships have left. We’ll be targeting their warp engines,” Jessie explained. “Once we’ve done as much as we can with that tactic, I want Watson to launch a scatterpack. We’ll follow it in then we’ll get behind the Cousteau and lock tractor beams onto it. Our plan is to push it beyond the orbital distance of the third planet.
“I don’t have enough drones remaining for a second scatterpack,” Blake protested, “and I fail to see the advantage of this plan.”
“Use anti-drones if you have to. We just need to give their phasers something to shoot at. We’re going to get hurt badly enough as it is,” Jessie replied. “As for the other idea, I’ll have to explain it later. Trust me that it will work.”
Rob watched Blake think it over. In the end, he agreed no doubt for the same reason Rob would have: he didn’t have any better idea of his own. “We’ve only enough troops for one attempt on the engines. We might as well make a combination of the two tactics,” he said.
Jessie agreed. Before they reached the third planet’s orbit, the two cutters turned back into the cruiser. The shuttle from Watson was launched as they began their turn. By the time the ships were facing the Cousteau, the drones were deployed. Holmes launched its own missile and five drones headed toward the cruiser. The gremlins had learned the destructive power of drones and used three of their ship’s heavy phasers to make certain they were destroyed.
That left one phaser and the photon torpedo to fire at Holmes. The weapons smashed the weak forward shield of the cutter. Rob held on tightly as the ship was badly shaken by the impact. He noted Doctor Law sacrificing her own body to cushion the captain. Damage reports began flowing in from all departments. He didn’t bother to pass them on. They all realized Holmes had been hurt, the question was how badly. The cutter continued to perform its mission, though. A moment later, he received word that a raiding team had been able to sabotage a conduit box in Cousteau’s engineering compartments. Along with the efforts from a similar team from Watson, the strike had resulted in a ten percent decrease in the output of the cruiser’s warp engines.
Watson turned sharply once past the Cousteau and attached a tractor beam to the cruiser’s main hull. Holmes, damaged and having reduced capabilities, was forced to make a more leisurely turn and let her sister ship carry out the stratagem. Using the Starfleet cruiser’s own engines to help push it past the third planet’s orbit was the only chance the two tiny ships had of success and it worked perfectly.
Holmes was still within firing arcs of the Cousteau’s phasers as the cruiser’s weapons recharged. With her shields destroyed and internal damage already heavy, Rob was sure the impending strike would cripple his ship. When no strike came, he looked askance at his captain.
“Cousteau is, is continuing to maintain its present course and speed. Shield reinforcement has been dropped and the photon torpedo in her tube is no longer being armed,” crewman Carawan reported.
“Send teams over to secure Cousteau’s engine room and bridge,” Jessie ordered.
“You’ll find the creatures all dead," she explained. "I don’t know what the reason is, but you recall they didn’t want to go far from the second planet. There must be something about the planet that kept these creatures alive when they were near it.”
“You were in sickbay when the creature died, captain,” Rob said. “I don’t understand how you knew.”
“One of the marines in sickbay, trooper Marsden, was telling someone about it,” Jessie clarified. “Sedated doesn’t mean dead you know.” Rob wasn't the only one on the bridge that laughed.
“Speaking of which,” Doctor Law said, “now that the ship has been saved you should be back in bed.” Rob Cole had to grin as his c.o. gave him a helpless luck.
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sniff. *wipes tear* I really wanted feedback on this part since I wasn't sure if the solution came across okay. I mean it works okay for me, but what do you think?
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I'll read and comment tomorrow morning or so.
I would now, but I haven't slept since 8:00pm yesterday and I really, really want some sleep.
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Hey Andromeda,
Interesting ending, for sure. You set up your solution earlier, but I don't think it wise to just assume it'd happen for all of the aliens on the GSC. That one alien could have just died of a heart attack, shock or something. Admittedly, no one had a better plan so this was the way to go, but as I've learned from my own experiences with 'If Wishes...' it might have been better to have it feel like more of a gamble, with some tense moments as we wait for the cruiser to fire--then suddenly it looses power. Something like that. :-)
Anyway, I was puzzled by this phrase:
Using the Starfleet cruiser’s own engines to help push it past the third planet’s orbit was the only chance the two tiny ships had
I know a fair bit about SFB, but I confess I don't understand this. Care to explain?
Other than that, a good, creditable ending to the tale, more so than beating up the cruiser would have been. Will there be an Epilogue/Final Chapter to explain why and how the cruiser got captured by aliens who cannot leave the orbit of their own planet?
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Okay, it's time for La'ra's patented 'Big-Ass Review'TM
First of all, I have to say that I enjoyed this story much more on completing a reread from start to finish. It was all right in parts, but it's pretty short and taken as a whole shot instead of several sips, it has a better impact. That usually means the whole thing is very cohesive and tight, which is a good thing.
It's an enjoyable tale. The plot is very basic: This problem needs solving, these people have to try and solve it with these resources, this is how they do it. I like that, especially when there's no apology for it, and there wasn't here. While 'universe-building' and other such has it's place, a nice, simple story done well is probably the purest form of entertainment.
Upsides: The battles between the Cousteau and the police cutters were obviously very well-planned (author-wise) and the results believable. There was a tenseness in the combat scenes that I liked, something that said, yes, these little guys are contending with a clumsy, dumb giant, but he's still a giant.
Your characters are believable, though given the action-oriented nature of the story, we didn't get to spend as much time with them as I would've liked....not that we should've since to try and cram in extra CD would have hurt the pace which is one of the strongest points of the story. I got the basic idea about Decker and Cole and Lick without many direct statements about their character and personality (loved the bit about the Doctor shielding Decker from a fall with her own body). That's a good thing: Give us the information, let us form the picture. The only exception to this is Jessie's early reminiscing about her Uncle. It seemed a little too 'tell not show', but like I said, it's the exception.
Other things I liked were the constant references to just how small the cutter is. Even big ships don't convey the palatial comforts often seen on TNG, and these little guys are likely to be cram-packed full of required equipment and crew areas with scant attention to habitability beyond basic needs.
Downsides: The battle scenes are very strong, but the ships seem a little...sedate, to me. I know they're in space and there's inertial dampners and stuff, but it never felt to me like the ships were moving. The Holmes shook plenty when she was hit, but as close to the edge as she was being pushed, I think there should've been more obvious internal stresses...flickering lights, fluctuating gravity, people grabbing onto the bridge rail during sharp turns, etc.
A related issue stems from one of the story's strengths: The battle is a little too SFB for my taste. I never really envision starship captains manually allocating their power and ship crews noting the range using SFB range units. I'd have made these processes a little more abstract. There's also the issue of three-dimensional motion: Forgetting that these ships move with complete freedom from gravity is something a lot of fan fic writers regularly do. I have to deliberately remind myself to include the 'ups and downs' of things, but I find that my fight scenes are rewarded for it, seeming more like they're actually in space.
I'd agree with Andy about the end, but I'd like to see these people exploring why it was so catastrophic to the aliens to be removed from their planetary orbit.
Little nitpicks (or stuff that isn't required but would please La'ra's Klingon heart): Despite your conveying the size of the Holmes well, I still think we need more atmospherics as far as being on the ship. How's the lighting? How's she smell? Etc. A little more description of characters and scenes would be fun too. Yeah, we all know the Command officer is in a gold mini-skirt and that the bridge lights blink a lot but reminding us of that occasionally can aid visuallization.
Stuff that doesn't fit anywhere else: This feels more like the start of a longer story than a self-contained story itself. That's not a downside or an upside, it just is, and I strongly hope you've planning on giving us some more of this particular crew. I like them.
Overall: I like it. I'd like more stories with this ship and crew, or more stories from you in general.
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Thanks guys that really helps. Just the stuff I want to know for when I rewrite it - after the conclusion's been out for a week or so.
Scottish Andy:
About using the cruiser's engines to push it over the 'boundary': It was going forward when they tractored it and they added their forward thrust to its to make it go further forward than it wanted to before it could turn. I'll make it more tense and easier to understand in the rewrite.
There is a part four that will be coming out on Friday. It's the wrapup to the story. I wanted it all as a tight little episode one might find in TOS. I'll work on taking SFB out of it if I can but that's the Starship combat I know. And yes the captain should be less specific in power use. I'll try and drop the SFB-specific terminology if I can.
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I'll work on taking SFB out of it if I can but that's the Starship combat I know.
My thoughts on this: Don't try too hard. ;D Best thing about using SFB is that it'll give you a framework around which to base your combat scenes. Soooo many Trek fanfics don't have any such thing, and it usually shows.
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I enjoyed greatly!
I too have hang-ups on the SFB nature of the battles, but mine are different.
I liked that during the first battle, there was a definent sense of 'might not make it out alive'. I didn't get that so much from the last ship battle, but perhaps it was because I read it in instalments. I also mentally refer to your comments on another thread which aluded to your penchant for allowing the good guys to win, which takes much of the inherant 'stress' of possibly seeing our heroes die away from the tale. Many a Ttek show have I watched, knowing that Enterprise/Voyager/Defiant was going to make it just fine because I knew it was Trek. The only time they stunned me on this was in the 7th season of DS9 when they blew up Defiant... That actually had me cackling!
The idea of telling of the marine battle via the comm was a great way of saving time, but still emplacing that edge of combat. I liked that alot. However, what kind of cannon are we really talking about with your ph4s? Damn!
Thanks for an great tale, and I second La'ra, give us more!
--thu guv'!
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I took La'ra's advice and re-read the whole thing in the one go. It certainly flows better that way, and I enjoyed your little tale.
The ending was good, and like Andy said, more believable than having some heroic combat action and a "mad crazy plan that just might work!" I liked your characters, and although there wasn't much development here (as La'ra said, it'd have ruined the pace of the whole story), we did get to see them as people rather than plot devices.
To me, it does seem like this is the centre section of a larger story, as this is how I come up with my stories. An action plot for the whole story that acts as the core, then plan a whole bunch of CD around it.
Just some stylistic comments now:
1) The ship names. You kept forgetting to put them all in italics, even using underlining instead.
2) When changing to a different scene/perspective, you should mark it somehow. Might I suggest using a double line of empty space, or some kind of page break? The main example for what I mean is the scene with Rob on the bridge wondering if they'll survive Blake's attack run plan, then going to Lick in the sickbay wanting to wake the captain.
3) When hearing someone speak from a out-of-room source, I like to put them in italics to, just to make that point clear. Examples are: hearing someone over the intercom from a different room on the ship, an on-screen transmission from an off-ship source, and someone's actual thoughts (as opposed to their thought processes)
Anyway, that's just my thoughts for your penny. Take them for what they're worth. :-)
I'd like to see more of this bunch. Keep them coming.
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I wanted to post the last bit before i had to leave, but I ran out of time. It'll have to wait a couple of weeks.
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Yeah, scene breaks would have been nice. Didn't think about that earlier...
I still love the pace of the whole story. It kept moving nicely. And it is better when read as a single entry. Hope we don't have to wait too long for more. :D
--thu guv'!
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I am editing this now - including the ending. I will post it for the new year.
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Hey Rommie! You've finally got your life in order in Oz, have you? Well, welcome back, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you.
Looking forward to more from you.
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I am editing this now - including the ending. I will post it for the new year.
Nice - hope to see your last bit soon!
Po~
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Here's the final version. I hope you guys enjoy it. I do have more in mind for these people, but that will have to wait until after the wedding.
*** *** ***
Special Weapons Troops outnumbered regular crewmen in the lounge of the USS Holmes. The Holmes, along with her sister ships Watson and Adler, was a Federation Police Corvette on convoy escort. Each of the three small ships carried four extra boarding parties to defend their herd of freighters from the raiding tactics of the Orion Pirates.
The lounge was a den of noise, aromas and conversation that would never have found its way into such a public space on board a Starfleet ship no matter how small. In the center of the maelstrom, at the proverbial eye of the storm, the ship’s commanding officer, Lieutenant Jessie Decker, and the captain of the Special Weapons Squads that were normally stationed on the Holmes, Chief Petty Officer Dave Lick, were playing 3-D chess. Several black chessmen stood neatly on the table by the SW Commander and a smaller group of white ones were scattered about Lieutenant Decker’s side of the table. Jessie rubbed a white knight in her fingers while considering her next move. “Your problem, Jess,” offered the Chief unhelpfully, as she reached for a pawn, “is that you consider all your moves and make the most complicated one whether it’s sound or not.”
Lieutenant Decker hesitated, pulled her hand away, and began to consider anew. The Chief sighed, squeezed the dark hair of his bangs, and rocked backward in his seat.
The door slid open and both players glanced up from their game. The lanky form of Sensor Technician Jake Carawan all but stumbled into the lounge. He ended up leaning against a storage locker with his arms crossed nonchalantly over his chest. His eyes scanned the room and quickly came to rest on the two senior officers. “Guess what Jess?” he blurted out as he walked. “Sector HQ wants to talk to you. It’s the Dragon Lady herself.”
Rising, Lieutenant Decker asked “Why didn’t you use the intercom?” She looked back at the chief and shrugged an apology and headed for the bridge, Carawan trailing her.
“It’s down for maintenance. Lieutenant Cole sent me to get you ASAP, so here I am.” The Holmes, a refitted corvette, was one of the largest ships in the list of Police Assets. As such she wasn’t equal to one of Starfleet’s frigates in combat. Her small size did give the Holmes at least one advantage. The two members of her crew made their way from the amidships lounge to the bridge in under a minute without having to enter the turbolift system.
Robert Cole, the Holmes’ executive officer, had already risen from the command seat and was standing beside it when Lieutenant Decker entered the bridge. “Captain on deck,” he called out and then told her, “Our status is normal. Admiral Brice-O’Hara is on channel two.” For her ears only he added, “I’ll speak to Mr. Friedlin about not running maintenance routines during the first watch.”
Jessie nodded and quickly occupied the seat. It still held the uncomfortable warmth of its previous occupant. She made a brief scan of her tactical displays and then signaled for the channel to Headquarters to be opened.
Admiral Sally Brice-O’Hara, commander of Sector Five of the Federation Police Force, quickly filled the main viewscreen. Brice-O’Hara was examining a padd and Jessie found herself distracted by the holographic painting of the Draconian Gardens by Carin Sedjak, a famous artist from Jessie’s native Alpha Centauri, which was between the flags of the Federation and the Police directorate. Jessie had a copy of the painting in her quarters. She suspected that she was looking at the original.
The admiral finished what she had been doing and looked up at the viewscreen. “Lieutenant Decker,” she said, skipping the usual pleasantries, “Starfleet has a situation on its hands that requires immediate attention. Your squadron is the only force of starships in the area. They asked for our assistance and you will be providing it. I will transfer you to Admiral Pekoske of Starfleet momentarily.
“Understand lieutenant, that this is an opportunity for the Police Directorate. See that we make a favorable impression.” She looked down at the padd, obviously finished.
“Admiral,” Jessie asked, feeling it her duty. Although there was little danger of pirate activity in this remote sector, the possibility still existed and she felt the freighters were her responsibility. “We are currently escorting a convoy to Narimar III. What about them?”
For the first time Jessie could ever remember, Admiral Brice-O’Hara smiled. “I’m glad you asked lieutenant. The Adler will remain with the convoy while Holmes and Watson are assigned to Starfleet. Should your mission preclude your returning to the convoy, Starfleet will send a squadron of F4s from Narimar III to join it. Any further questions?”
Jessie gave the painting one last look and replied, “No ma’am.” There was a moment of static and a younger man with a severe expression filled the screen. “This is Lieutenant Jessie Decker, commanding officer of the Holmes.”
The man responded with a frown. “Admiral Pekoske, Starfleet Command. Are you familiar with the Galactic Survey Cruiser?” he asked doubtfully.
Jessie nodded. “Similar to a heavy cruiser in size, the GSC is designed for seeking new resources for the Federation. It trades armament for sensors and other special equipment.”
Jessie was surprised to see the Admiral’s frown deepen. “Are you any relation to Matt Decker?”
“He was my uncle, sir,” Jessie answered stiffly. It was a painful subject to her, both because of his death and the effect it had on her career. She had joined the Police Directorate instead of Starfleet to escape the illustrious family legacy.
It came as no surprise to her that the Admiral’s expression brightened. “My condolences, Lieutenant.” Jessie nodded faintly and the Admiral resumed his briefing. “The USS Cousteau, a GSC, failed to make a regular check-in while exploring a previously undiscovered planet. Your ship and,” he glanced downward, “the Watson are to investigate what happened and render any assistance necessary. We are sending you the coordinates, information on the Cousteau and PA84-3301, the system she was investigating. Report immediately on locating the Cousteau and as soon as you learn anything. Good Luck, Lieutenant.”
Her executive officer, Lieutenant Cole, had moved across the bridge and was standing by the communications console looking over the shoulder of the operator. “We are receiving the information from Starfleet Command. I’ll have it transferred to the conference room as soon as we have it cleared.” Jessie smiled; that room, normally empty, was also being used to accommodate their extra crew.
Later that day, officers from both Police Corvettes met to discuss the mission orders. As quickly as possible, the conference room was restored for the use of the crew. Twenty extra troopers was a slight, albeit welcome, imposition when expecting to face pirate raiders. When the mission involved use of the Corvette’s other facilities, the space became rather tight.
The officer’s mess was a cramped space that barely accommodated the Holmes’ six commissioned officers. Under the circumstances, it was a welcome escape. For the four days of their journey, it had provided a sanctuary against the increasingly boisterous crew. “It’s a good thing we’re supposed to reach PA84-3301 tomorrow,” Jessie observed. “Otherwise I think half of our combat team would be in the brig.”
Chief Lick, also responsible for ship’s security as well as the combat team, replied “It wouldn’t hold them all anyway. There’s no need to worry, though. I put up a sign this morning that anyone caught brawling would be assigned scullery duty.”
In the tiny space, the laughter of six people echoed loudly. “Any guesses on what we’ll face?” Jessie asked as calm was quickly restored.
Ensign Thomasina Acton, who served both as helmswoman and navigator for the Holmes, offered, “I’ve been looking at similar incidents. It’s likely they’ve got a problem with their comm. system and will need some parts.”
“All the same,” countered the weapons officer, Ensign Etheridge, the newest addition to the ship, “I’d like to come in with the phaser capacitors charged and shields up just in case.”
“Good idea, Kevin,” Jessie answered. “A little caution can go a long way. A GSC is quite large compared to our little ships. Have any of you ever seen one?” None of them had. “Beautiful ships. Uncle Matt served on one before he got the Constellation. We got a tour when I was a kid. Everything was bright and shiny. It must have been a scientist’s dream to serve on one. He always said that was where the real action was.”
Jessie was surprised to find herself thinking of her uncle. It had always been a subject she had avoided. He had died a hero’s death, destroying a doomsday weapon. It reminded her of the dangers of uncharted space. She much preferred the well-traveled space lanes where the perils were known and were usually no worse than navigational hazards. Even the Orions were a known quantity.
She suddenly realized that the conversation at the table had stopped and everyone was looking at her. “I’m sorry, I was distracted,” she said. “What did I miss?”
“We were discussing crewman Carawan’s idea on configuring the shuttle as a scanning platform to give us some kind of EW ability,” replied Lieutenant Cole. “We don’t really have the power to do much otherwise.”
“We also don’t have another shuttle in case we need it for something else,” snorted Chief Lick. “So we wondered which side you were on in all this.”
“Neutral,” Jessie said with a laugh. “I think it would depend too much on the situation. Why don’t you guys run a few drills to see how long it takes to pull the spare out of storage?” She was rewarded with a few groans.
“You’re really looking forward to this, aren’t you?” he said and shook his head. “Well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I think it’s time for me to be going before somebody gives me extra work beyond what I’ve got already.” He rose quickly and departed. The rest soon followed suit.
The next day, the two ships entered the PA84-3301 system. Holmes led the way, so it was Jake Carawan from her sensor station who first reported contact. “Captain, sensors detect a warp trail around the second planet. Our data on the system reports it as class M.”
“Adjust course for the second planet,” Jessie ordered, “and inform Watson.” The two police ships headed into the system. A few moments passed and Carawan was able to provide a clearer picture.
“The Cousteau is in orbit around the second planet. Her warp output is fluctuating and unstable. She probably can’t make warp. There is no sign of any damage to the ship’s hull.”
“She does not respond to hails,” XO Coles added.
“Bring us in behind her,” Jessie ordered. “We’ll send a shuttle over to find out what’s going on over there. Keep up on the hails. She may not be able to answer, but hopefully she can hear us. Let them know what we plan to do.”
With Holmes still slightly ahead, the two corvettes approached the orbiting cruiser. “Captain!” Ensign Etheridge suddenly called out. “The Cousteau is locking phasers and preparing to fire.”
Jessie barely had time to order, “Reserve power to forward shields. Emergency deceleration,” before the powerful beams of energy struck the Holmes full on. Too late, Jessie grabbed the arms of her chair for support.
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Jessie’s ears were ringing and she found she was clutching her armrest with a death grip. She could hear Rob Cole speaking but she couldn’t quite make out the words. She pushed herself upright and winced from a sudden pain in her chest. “Repeat that,” she commanded through gritted teeth.
He turned to face her and she could make out what he said as much through reading his lips as hearing. “Watson is moving to cover us; they’re going to distract the Cousteau’s fire. Our shields held but there are minor injuries throughout the ship.”
She faced the viewscreen in time to watch as Watson moved across Cousteau’s bow and the Survey Cruiser fired its phasers at the police corvette. “Get us out of firing range,” she said, careful to take only shallow breaths to avoid the pain. “Tell Watson to follow.” The police ships easily moved around the larger cruiser, which began to follow them away from the planet. When the two corvettes were outside of the orbit of the third planet, the cruiser returned to its original position in orbit around the second planet.
Two minutes later, there was an impromptu strategy conference on the bridge of the Holmes with the staff of the Watson attending via the main viewscreen. “Did you notice, Captain Decker,” asked her opposite number, “when we went across her bow, the Cousteau only attacked us with her phasers?” Jessie nodded. “Also,” he continued, “that their attacks on our two ships were not very tactically coordinated?”
Lieutenant Coles summed it up for both crews. “Whoever is in control of that ship isn’t familiar with its capabilities yet and probably doesn’t have control of its photon torpedoes. It’s the same with the warp signature. They can use the warp engines but not efficiently enough to leave the system under warp power.”
Thanks to her sore ribs, Jessie had been trying to let others carry the conversation. Her executive officer had made an important point and she wanted to address it. “So far, and that’s our chief concern. If whoever they are do manage to break orbit and leave the system under full power, there’s no way we can keep up with them. We’ve got to get aboard and get control of that ship before that happens.”
“From the way y’all are talking,” said Chief Lick, betraying a hint of southern drawl, “that you don’t think the crew of the Cousteau is in control of the ship. That will mean boarding party combat. I’d like to know as much as I can about what we’re facing before we have to commit any troopers to combat.”
“I agree,” Jessie said as a plan began to take shape in her mind. “Mr. Carawan, how close will we need to get to that ship for you to ascertain the status of her photon torpedoes and crew?”
“At six clicks we can tell if they’re armed, but the only way to see if they’ve overridden the lock-outs is to see the Cousteau’s computer,” the tech answered. “From four we can get a good bio scan through their shields.”
“We should study the planet as well,” added the captain of the Watson. “Try to determine the link between the ship and the planet if possible.”
“We’ll take the ship,” Jessie decided. “Our shields are slightly better and our equipment is slightly newer. Once we’ve engaged them, you come around the other side of the planet and see what you can find out. We’ll signal each other when we’ve accomplished our tasks. Future actions based on what we find out, but eventually we probably will have to attempt a boarding action.”
The captain of the Watson saluted and the viewscreen once again showed the local system. Jessie silently thanked the power that had provided them with the extra troopers for anti-piracy patrol. “All right gentlemen,” she said, “our mission is to scan the Cousteau to find out what we can about her armament and crew. Chief Lick, I may want a raiding party available to rescue members of the original crew or capture some of the current occupants. Any questions?” When there were none, beyond the silent wonder of how they would face the cruiser alone, she said, hoping it would be some comfort, “I’m relying on our maneuverability to keep us out of their primary weapons arcs. Inform HQ of our situation and plans and let’s go.”
Time dragged out slowly as the Watson moved into position. Jessie had to force herself not to drum her fingers on her armrest. She tried taking a deep calming breath but found it painful. She forced herself to breathe slowly in and out until she could take that deep breath. “Captain, is there something I can assist you with?” asked Lieutenant Cole.
He had no doubt seen her wince. To admit to a problem now meant missing the biggest mission of her life. “Thank you XO, I don’t require anything,” she said formally. He gave her a lingering look before returning to his duties.
Finally, they received the signal that Watson was ready. “Raise our ECM to level two,” Jessie ordered, “and maintain as high a speed as possible. Remember this is an information gathering pass. Can we overload a photon torpedo and hold it while still beating the best speed they’ve demonstrated?”
“Aye Captain,” replied ensign Etheridge from his weapons console, “but it will drain the batteries fairly quickly and we won’t be able to recharge it.”
“Helm,” she said, “once tactics is ready, take us in. Six clicks distance from the Cousteau, four once we’re out of her torpedo arc. Move and mark.” She listened for the collection of acknowledgements before nodding to herself and the Holmes was underway.
The Cousteau was still in orbit around the second planet, but turned to face them as Holmes came out from the shadow of the third. “Cousteau has launched a drone,” ensign Etheridge said. “It’s standard type one. We will be able to evade it without using our own racks.”
“Destroy it,” Jessie overrode him. She didn’t want their preplanned course altered if possible. When the missile reached effective range, a smaller drone was released from the Holmes and intercepted it, destroying both weapons. The two ships closed and the Cousteau engaged its electronic systems, neutralizing the protection Holmes systems provided. “Begin erratic maneuvers,” Jessie ordered.
Just in time, as all four of the main phaser banks of the Cousteau opened fire. The smaller ship rocked slightly, but this time the crew was prepared. The shields held and the Holmes made its close pass of the saucer. “I’ll need us to stop using EM to get good data,” said Carawan. The Holmes steadied its course and he leaned into his scanner. “Photon tubes are cold, point defense phasers are hot, scout sensors are not active,” he said without looking up. As they passed along the larger ship, he announced, “biological data coming in. Approximately 300 life signs aboard. None human.”
Jessie didn’t have time to wonder what had happened to the crew. The cruiser began turning to pursue them. “Signal Watson. Tell them we have engaged the Cousteau.”
Lieutenant Cole informed her when the signal was transmitted. “Bring us around, keep our flank shields towards the Cousteau. I want to bring down one of her forward shields.”
The Holmes was able to make the turn inside the larger cruiser and had its weapons centerlined on the Cousteau before the cruiser was ready to fire. “Batteries exhausted,” reported engineering, “we’re going to have to reduce speed.”
“Negative,” Jessie responded and interjected “Fire!” into her response. “Keep the speed high and recharge what we can.” Their own phasers lanced forward, accompanied by the heavier ‘thrum’ of the photon torpedo being launched.
“Direct hit!” Ensign Etheridge announced. “Cousteau has reinforced the shield and is kicking in their batteries. It’s holding.”
“Fire defensive phasers,” Jessie added.
“That did it!” he said excitedly, “their number two shield has collapsed. No damage to the ship itself.”
“Well done,” Jessie complemented him. “Chief Lick,” she said into her intercom. “We have downed a shield on the Cousteau and will be making another pass. “Transporter control is yours. Get a team in, find out what they are, and get out.” He replied with a tersely grunted “Aye.”
Then the Cousteau returned fire. Only half of the main phasers were able to bear on the Holmes, but she added her defensive phasers also. Jessie could tell immediately that the Holmes had been hurt. “Damage amidships,” reported the XO. “Auxiliary control is offline. Casualty reports: minor injuries only.” She sighed in relief, feeling a sharp ache in her chest in response.
“Prepare a high energy turn. We don’t want that shield being hit again when we make our next run,” she ordered. “Just enough power in weapons to bring down any reinforcement they might use. Use the rest in movement and defense.”
Despite the hurt done to their ship, and their newfound respect for the firepower of the cruiser, her orders were carried out quickly. It was made worse on their next approach when crewman Carawan announced “energy signature in one of their photon tubes. It looks like overload strength.” There was a moment of silence on the bridge. A single torpedo from the cruiser would be enough to knock down one of their shields on its own.
Holmes raced in, fired its phasers, this time doing unavoidable damage to the cruiser. “It’s a good hit, Captain.” Etheridge reported. “Damage scattered across their systems: “drone launcher, main bridge, defensive phaser, several hull hits, impulse engines, and a photon torpedo tube,” he added excitedly.
“Not the one that’s arming,” Carawan announced somberly.
“Marines away,” Lieutenant Cole said. “Cousteau is in firing position.”
“High-energy turn, now!” Jessie exclaimed. “Get us out of here.” The ship shuddered as the Cousteau fired, but felt ok.
“Aft shield collapsed,” Etheridge reported. “No internal damage.”
The Holmes lurched again, this time from the turn Jessie had ordered, and made its way back alongside the cruiser. As they passed it, the transporters collected the boarding party from the Cousteau. “Stay outside of overload range for that torpedo,” she said, “and try to keep us off their centerline. Maximum defense and do what you can for our shields.”
“Chief Lick reports they have captured an alien from the Cousteau,” Lieutenant Coles informed her. “He also reports they’ve brought back a dead one for Dr. Law to take apart.” There was some snickering. “Belay that kind of talk on the bridge,” Jessie said quickly.
In the chagrinned silence that followed, Ensign Acton reported from the helm “Cousteau is not pursuing. They’re turning back toward the planet.”
“They received some kind of signal from the planet,” Lieutenant Coles explained. “Watson has apparently been discovered.”
“Pursuit course,” Jessie ordered quickly. “Do what we can to slow them down. Alert Watson that the Cousteau has an overloaded photon torpedo armed.”
Despite sniping from the corvette, the Cousteau returned to the planet and began pursuing the Watson. Once the second police ship was beyond the orbit of the third planet, the Cousteau turned back toward the M-class planet. Holmes quickly evaded the cruiser and sped after its cohort.
Safely away from the Cousteau’s weapons, and with the adrenalin kick wearing off, Jessie realized how much worse she feeling. She concentrated and registered her XO saying, “I hope the Watson learned something because right now the only think I can think of is blasting her until the computer ejects the saucer to prevent its destruction and towing that back to a starbase.”
Another idea was already forming itself in her mind. She opened her mouth to speak and coughed instead. She raised her hand to cover her mouth and her fingers came down red. She stared at it the bloody hand blankly, hearing Lieutenant Coles shouting, “Medical emergency on the bridge.”
-
Rob Cole waited until the turbolift doors closed behind the medical team that was carrying Lieutenant Decker to sickbay before he sat in her chair. Three years older than his captain and past the point where he could expect his own command, he couldn’t help but think that his golden opportunity had come. He wished that he could come up with a better plan, one that would make headquarters take notice.
He then faced the chore of informing Watson. Lieutenant Blake looked surprised to see Rob in the command chair. “Captain Decker was injured and is in sickbay.”
“I see,” the captain of the Watson replied thoughtfully. “Will she be okay?”
Rob shook his head. “We don’t know yet. I’m not a doctor so I hate to speculate, but I’m going to be in command of Holmes for the rest of the mission.”
Blake nodded again and smoothed his dark hair. “Given the situation, I’m assuming command of the mission.”
He should have expected it, but the announcement came as a shock to Cole. He could see no legitimate way to deny Lieutenant Blake’s pronouncement. “The mission command is yours, sir,” he said. “We were successful in our efforts to capture a live alien. It’s in the brig and the commander of our marine contingent is interrogating it now.”
“I’ve received your data already on the battle with the Cousteau,” Blake said. “Have you any recommendations for our next step.”
Cole frowned. “Unless the interrogation reveals anything, the best I can come up with is to attack the Cousteau with everything we have until the ship’s computer separates the saucer section to prevent it from being destroyed. Then we tow it back to starbase.”
“Noted,” Blake answered. “Report as soon as you have any information.” The communication ended abruptly and Rob wondered if the Watson’s captain had felt as left out of the loop earlier as he did now.
Testily he punched his comm. button and hailed the brig. “Chief Lick, report on the status of the alien’s interrogation and I hope it’s good news.”
“I’ve been trying to contact you for a few minutes,” the Chief replied. He sounded upset. “The prisoner is dead.”
“What’d you kill it for?” Cole shot back.
“We didn’t,” Chief Lick answered evenly. “It just keeled over a few minutes ago. Without the doc taking a look at it, we won’t know why.”
“The captain’s in sickbay so it’s going to be some time before she gets around to your alien. You’re on your own. Perhaps have your corpsman cut open the other one.”
The Chief’s expression went from anger to concern in an instant. “Is she alright?”
“When I know something, you’ll know something,” Cole said and cut him off.
As much as he didn’t like it, he had the news passed on to the Watson. It wasn’t long after that when Lieutenant Blake contacted him again. “We’ve reviewed your information. Before we try anything as drastic as your recommendation, we’re going to attempt to seize control of the Cousteau by boarding her. How soon can you be ready to head back into battle?”
“We’ll be ready in a few minutes. I’ll take the time to tell my marine contingent. Are you certain we have the transporter capability?”
“Between our two ships we can do it,” Blake replied confidently. “It’ll be just like taking a freighter back from the Orions.”
“Aye sir,” Coles responded. He had voiced his concern and been overridden. There was nothing else he could do.
Rob left the bridge to Ensign Williams, and headed down to talk to Chief Lick. He felt this was a job he needed to do in person. As he expected, the Chief did not take it well. “I’ve been on that ship, Lieutenant. We’re not going to have time to set up a secure beam in point before they’ll be all over us. Get me on the comm. I need to talk to that guy and explain it to him.”
“That’s outside of the chain of command,” Rob responded glumly. “You have your orders.”
The Chief nodded and a frown creased his face. It was almost instantly replaced by a grin. “At least allow me to talk to my opposite number on Watson so we can coordinate our actions. Surely I can do that.”
Rob answered the Chief’s grin with one of his own. “That I can let you do. Now get back to work.”
He thought about taking a few minutes to go and look at the enemy and decided it was worth it. The body remained in a cell in the brig. It didn’t look like a particularly frightening creature. If it hadn’t been a hostile being, Rob might have considered it a candidate for being a pet. It was little more than half his height and covered in brown fur with white and black patches. For all that its face was surprisingly human. It reminded him more of a dog than anything else, though. “Doesn’t look like much,” he commented to the marine on duty in the brig.
“No sir,” the man answered. “There are just a lot of them and the ones we met were all carrying phasers.”
“Ah,” Rob said. “I don’t suppose we even know what they call themselves. Did it say anything before it died?”
The man shook his head. “We call ‘em gremlins sir, since they’re infesting the Starfleet ship.” Rob smiled at him, patted the marine on the shoulder, recalled his name; “Carry on trooper Marsden,” he said, and headed back to the bridge.
He was halfway back when he was paged by the bridge. “Doctor Law has a report on the captain, sir.” Rob looked down the corridor. He was near sickbay already so he altered his course to pay a visit.
The outer office was empty so Rob passed into the infirmary. Three of the beds were occupied, but the one the physician was beside garnered his attention. It was rare to see anything attached to a patient: the beds took care of just about anything, but Captain Decker was wearing a breathing mask. She looked very pale and fragile suddenly. “Doc,” he asked, “is she going to be alright?”
Jan Law turned at the sound of his voice. The mousy woman was holding a medical tricorder in her hands. “Don’t be alarmed,” she said, addressing the worry in his voice but looking down at the device. “She’ll recover. If she’d come to me as soon as it happened, we would have just fixed her rib and she could have gone back on duty in a few minutes. As it is, it finally punctured her lung and the lung collapsed. Oh, I’m sorry.” She looked up. “She’ll be fine. Right now I’m keeping her sedated and on artificial breathing. You can have her back after a few days of rest.”
Rob nodded from a distance. The doctor intimidated him. The woman did her best to be personable but always seemed to be more interested in her instruments than in other people. “I’m sure the crew will be happy to hear that.”
“Oh, yes,” she replied. “I imagine they will.” An insistent beep from a nearby comm. panel and a message from the bridge sent Rob hurrying on his way. Watson was ready.
He ordered the ship into battle, following Lieutenant Blake’s plan and then contacted the marine’s commander again. “You tell the doc to be ready,” the Chief said, “because it’s going to be bloody.” He gave Rob a death’s head grin. “We’ll give ‘em hell sir.”
“I’m sure you will. Transporter control is now at your discretion. Good luck.”
As before, Jake Carawan was quick to give a running status report on the Cousteau. “Shields repaired since the last combat. Other damaged systems,” he added with some surprise, “are still disabled.” Rob considered that a good thing. The cruiser with two working photons would be a nightmare. He wondered if the ‘gremlins’ weren’t able to manage repairs. It had been more than enough time, he though, to repair at least the torpedo tube.
One tube was bad enough, he quickly decided, as he watched it blow through the forward shield of the Watson as they approached. The police ship launched a shuttle which released a scatterpack of drones. Defensive phasers from the Cousteau knocked out two of the six drones and the other four downed two of its shields in return.
Holmes took the lead position from Watson and closed on the cruiser. The larger ship fired its heavy phasers at the police cutter and destroyed its forward shields as well. Some energy penetrated into the ship. Rob held his breath when he saw the location until the damage report said sickbay was unharmed. The collective release of air made him realize he wasn’t the only one.
With all three ships having shields down, there was no need for special maneuvering to get them in position to board the Cousteau. The biggest challenge was in keeping the smaller maneuverable police ships behind the cruiser so it couldn’t use its heavy weapons. In return they couldn’t fire on the Cousteau without risking injuring their own marines.
Crewman Ingolia at the communications station turned on the box intercom so the bridge crew could hear what was going on. The first sound was Chief Lick’s voice, saying “Team one away, team two into the transporter.” After that, it became confusing.
“DZ clear – we’ve got company – six at the hatch.” The sound of phaser fire punctuated the speech and the voices lost their distinctiveness. “They’re trying to flank us – Cobb, Loewe, cover position one – team two in.” Rob was sure enough of the voices at this point that he thought marines from Watson were in with his own troops. “Ahh – they got Jody – break out the pr4 – clear the zone – can’t sir – Sam, Sam, Sam! - there’s too many of them.” The phaser fire was a steady hum now and there were indistinct yells and screams. If the gremlins were making sounds, Rob couldn’t distinguish them from those of the marines. Then there was the reassuring hum of the heavier phaser cannon. The feeling didn’t last long. “They’ve got one too – cover! – hit the deck – break out the other one.” There was more screaming and then a panicky voice shrieked for an emergency beam out. After that, the fighting didn’t last long and the voices on the speaker were more controlled as the marines returned to the ship.
Rob looked around the bridge to the ashen faces. “Speaker off,” he ordered. “Contact Watson, recommend we withdraw.”
Chief Lick’s second in command contacted the bridge. “It was no good sir. There were too many of them to establish a safe beam in point. We were never able to get an edge.”
“Where’s the Chief?” Rob asked. He didn’t want to lose both his captain and the chief on the same mission. His chance for promotion looked like it was rapidly disappearing. He banished the unwanted thought angrily.
“Sickbay, sir. He took one in the leg. He’ll survive, sir. He’s one tough bastard.”
Rob had to switch his attention to the other conversation as Lieutenant Blake appeared on his viewscreen. “Lieutenant Cole, we’re going to back off for a moment – long enough for you to prepare your shuttle as a scatterpack and us to retrieve ours if we can. Then we’ll try your idea and prepare for a long sublight trip.” Blake’s expression was grim.
The Cousteau pursued the two police ships for only a short distance as they were able to quickly distance themselves from it. Rob took it as a sign that the gremlins were learning the limits of their ship’s acceleration and maneuverability. It would make future combat more dangerous. He fervently hoped that it didn’t mean they were also figuring out how to balance the warp engine output.
Lieutenant Blake asked for a report on the scatterpack preparation. Rob looked over at Ensign Etheridge. “Thirty seconds, sir,” he echoed the weapons officer’s statement.
“Very good,” Blake replied. “We turn back in sixty seconds. We go in together: we want it to move into the scatterpack.”
Rob acknowledged his orders. He really wanted to confer with Holmes’s two senior officers. Both were in sickbay though and he didn’t have enough time to make it there and back again. With a sigh and a frown, he tried to figure out how to beat the Cousteau down without having his own ship blown up in return. Two shields on his ship were already down and one was weak. They had already taken internal damage. Watson was in slightly better shape, but the older cutter wouldn’t take as much as Holmes before being disabled. They had gotten lucky against the cruiser so far, but each hit against his small ship was going to be far more critical than each shot the cruiser took. What the marines had taken earlier, he expected to take now. Rob hoped the end result would be better.
-
Chief Lick stared at the stump of his leg and the fancy medical gadget that started just above the knee. He looked up and around him at his boys lying on beds in sickbay. His worst fears had been justified and when some fool from the other ship had panicked a tough situation had nearly turned into a disaster. He resolved to find a way to get some Romulan ale to his own ship’s transporter techs. They had gotten everyone out, even the dead.
He felt the ship’s engines respond as they accelerated away from the Cousteau. What could they do now other than get in a bloody firefight for which he held little hope? A few quick passes, he could expect success from but the superior durability of a Starfleet cruiser was going to tell in a long battle. His eyes fell on one of the few beds that didn’t hold a marine. “Doc,” he called. “I need you to wake up the Captain.”
Jan Law looked down at her tricorder; a reaction Lick knew meant she wasn’t sure of what she should do. He also knew enough not to say any more. If the doctor felt it was safe to do so, she would wake the captain. Otherwise no matter how many times he asked, in whatever terms, he would not sway her. She was a good sawbones. “Alright,” she finally said, “but she’s not leaving that bed.”
“Even to save the ship?” Lick said, trying not to sound like he was being serious. It didn’t work.
“If it will save the ship,” the doctor decided, “she can leave but I will have to accompany her.” Doctor Law removed the oxygen mask and pressed a hypospray to the Captain’s neck. It did not take long to work.
Chief Lick watched as Lieutenant Decker’s breathing became more rapid and her eyes opened. He let the doctor handle the captain’s initial reaction. Then he got her attention. “We’re in a tough spot, ma’am,” he said. “Blake on the Watson’s in command. We tried to board Cousteau and got beat off. Now they’re gonna try and get the computer to eject the saucer automatically due to massive damage. I don’t know what we…”
He had to stop as she interrupted him. “Is the captive still alive?”
“How did you know?” he asked, astonished.
“Get me to the bridge,” she said tersely. The combat alert sounded.
In the turbolift, Chief Lick couldn’t resist asking, “Can you let me in on your plan? I might be able to help and,” he glanced at the doctor and winked, “you might not make it all the way through the battle without passing out.”
The Lieutenant also briefly peeked at the doctor, who was studiously examining her medical tricorder. “Alright chief. The creatures always turn back before getting too far from the second planet. I don’t know when the captive died, but suppose the reason is physiological. If so, all we have to do is…”
“Get them far enough away from the planet,” he finished for her. “It looks like my boys may get a second shot after all.” Jessie nodded and straightened herself up as the turbolift decelerated and stopped. The door opened on the bridge and the trio entered. Jessie’s eyes first fell on the main viewscreen.
Holmes was leading this time, her scatterpack already deployed and drones launched, and the two ships were nearing photon torpedo range for the Cousteau. Rob Cole sat uncomfortably in the center chair and prayed the first shot would miss. He gave it no thought when the turbolift door opened.
“Mr. Coles, I’d like my chair back,” Jessie Decker said.
He could have cheered, Rob was so relieved. It wasn’t until he stood up that he noticed Doctor Law standing beside the Captain. Decker was probably trying to be a hero and had somehow conned the doctor into certifying her fit for duty. He hesitated then decided to let her have it. “The bridge is yours, Captain. Welcome back.”
“Thank you,” she replied and quickly, but gingerly sat down. “Let the drones overtake us,” she said, quickly sizing up the situation. “Give us as much ECM as you can. Then turn and run toward the third planet. Make sure Cousteau pursues.”
Rob Cole could almost feel the anger behind the sudden beeping of the comm. channel from the Watson. “What do you think you’re doing, Lieutenant?” the other cutter’s captain spat.
Jessie replied smoothly, “Sorry I couldn’t inform you sooner, Bart. I’ve got a plan to save our bacon and the Cousteau too. Stay with us and keep your aft shields up. Chief Lick, get on the comm and fill him in.”
Rob expected him to protest, but Blake answered with curt agreement. The two ships turned and retreated, with the cruiser in pursuit. With no ships to worry it, the Cousteau easily handled the drones and destroyed the shuttle.
“I want hit-and-run raids ready with whatever marines both ships have left. We’ll be targeting their warp engines,” Jessie explained. “Once we’ve done as much as we can with that tactic, I want Watson to launch a scatterpack. We’ll follow it in then we’ll get behind the Cousteau and lock tractor beams onto it. Our plan is to push it beyond the orbital distance of the third planet.
“I don’t have enough drones remaining for a second scatterpack,” Blake protested, “and I fail to see the advantage of this plan.”
“Use anti-drones if you have to. We just need to give their phasers something to shoot at. We’re going to get hurt badly enough as it is,” Jessie replied. “As for the other idea, listen to Mr. Lick. He understands the idea.”
Rob watched Blake think it over. In the end, he agreed no doubt for the same reason Rob would have: he didn’t have any better idea of his own. “We’ve only enough troops for one attempt on the engines. We might as well make a combination of the two tactics,” he said.
Jessie agreed. Before they reached the third planet’s orbit, the two cutters turned back into the cruiser. The shuttle from Watson was launched as they began their turn. By the time the ships were facing the Cousteau, the drones were deployed. Holmes launched its own missile and five drones headed toward the cruiser. The gremlins had learned the destructive power of drones and used three of their ship’s heavy phasers to make certain they were destroyed.
That left one phaser and the photon torpedo to fire at Holmes. The weapons smashed the weak forward shield of the cutter. Rob held on tightly as the ship was badly shaken by the impact. He noted Doctor Law sacrificing her own body to cushion the captain. Damage reports began flowing in from all departments. He didn’t bother to pass them on. They all realized Holmes had been badly hurt. The cutter continued to perform its mission, though. A moment later, he received word that a raiding team had been able to sabotage a conduit box in Cousteau’s engineering compartments. Along with the efforts from a similar team from Watson, the strike had resulted in a ten percent decrease in the output of the cruiser’s warp engines.
Watson turned sharply once past the Cousteau and attached a tractor beam to the cruiser’s main hull. Holmes, damaged, was forced to make a more leisurely turn and let her sister ship take the lead in carrying out the stratagem. Using the Starfleet cruiser’s own engines to help push it past the third planet’s orbit was the only chance the two tiny ships had of success and it worked perfectly.
Holmes was still within firing arcs of the Cousteau’s phasers as the cruiser’s weapons recharged. With her shields destroyed and internal damage already heavy, Rob was sure the impending strike would cripple his ship. When no strike came, he looked askance at his captain.
“Cousteau is, is continuing to maintain its present course and speed. Shield reinforcement has been dropped and the photon torpedo in her tube is no longer being armed,” crewman Carawan reported in a tone laden with relief.
“Have the Chief send teams over to secure Cousteau’s engine room and bridge,” Jessie ordered. “Make sure we’ve got a tight lock on them in case the creatures put up any resistance. If I’m right though, there won’t be any.”
“You were in sickbay when the creature died, captain,” Rob said. “I don’t understand how you knew.”
“The medics were talking about it,” Jessie explained. “Sedated doesn’t mean dead you know.”
“Speaking of which,” Doctor Law said, “now that the ship has been saved you should be back in bed.” Rob Cole had to grin as his c.o. gave him a helpless look. The doctor did allow her to remain on the bridge until the marines aboard the Cousteau reported that the cruiser had been secured.
It fell to Cole and Lieutenant Blake of Watson to try and determine what had happened to the Cousteau. Rob sent crewman Carawan over to the cruiser to get what he could out of the ship’s logs. What he got back wasn’t encouraging. “Gremlins are sort of like tribbles, sir. They reproduce like crazy and seem to have some properties that make you like them. Initially the Cousteau’s crew seems to have treated them almost like pets. There were no signs that they were either hostile or intelligent.”
“Can you tell what happened?” the lieutenant asked.
“One of the scientists on the Cousteau was a Deltan,” the sensor tech responded, referring to a people that had recently joined the Federation, “and when they first encountered him, the gremlins apparently went berserk. There aren’t any logs after that point.”
“What about transporter records? How did there get to be three hundred of them aboard?”
“No transporter records after they were brought on board, sir,” the crewman replied. “Nor any shuttlecraft launches. There’s no trace of the crew either.”
Cole decided it would remain a mystery for now. “Okay. Get on back here,”he ordered. “The caretaker crew can handle things there.”
“If it’s okay, sir, I would like to stay here for a while. The sensor package on this thing is incredible.”
With a laugh, he gave his permission and then went to sickbay to report his findings to the captain. Lieutenant Decker was lying in bed looking restless. Chief Lick occupied a chair beside her and a chessboard was set up between the two. “That looks like a problem for Starfleet to handle,” was her analysis of Cole’s report. “Put up a system-wide quarantine warning for now and let’s get going. Nice job.”
“Now get back to the bridge,” the Chief kidded. “Jessie and I have a game to finish. As I recall you’ve been thinking over your move for the last week now.”
“I’ve concluded,” she replied, “that you made your last comment about my over thinking the position to keep me from making the move I was originally planning.” She reached out and picked up a pawn and placed it on her battle board protecting a bishop.
“Of course, ma’am,” Lick answered, and then quickly reached out and casually removed the pawn from the field with his knight. “Your turn.”
-
Nicely done, Rommie. I had only seen this story in an imcomplete form before. It reads well, and is very believeable, especially the part about a captain too stubborn for her own good staying on the bridge when she knew she was injured.
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Good little story, Andromeda. I am, of course, wanting to know what happened to the Cousteau and her crew, but maybe you'll tell us later. :)
I like reading stories about the ships we never normally hear about. There's a squadron of police ships in my upcoming story, and that's why I write about our little frigate.
I'm looking forward to your next story.
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I'm not sure. Maybe they got eaten providing fuel for these things to grow out of control? It's a mystery.
I do have a coulple of short pieces from this story that didn't really fit with the main story that I will be adding.
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I somehow managed to miss you posting the rewrite...I'll take a look at it tomorrow, probably, since it's, once again time to sleep.
Thanks, though, you gave me something to look forward to in regards to a blessed day off. :D
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A good little story you have there, Rommie. Its a combat story to be sure, but such an unusual one. I really like the 'solution to the problem' you came up with for this. I've been re-reading my SFB source material and it looks like this was kind of Monster Scenario. Do as little damage as possible until you've gained enough information to determine what the solution is, then do that. I like that you altered this to suit your story needs, and you did that very well.
The character interaction is fine, though a bit standard. I think we just need more time with these people to truly see what they're like.
Though, you still need to brush up on your conventions as I see non-italicised shipnames and such.
All in all, a good first story for us. I look forward to more from you.
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Jessie had prepared herself for her first view of the bridge of the Cousteau and she had already been through a portion of the ship in getting there. She was already used to how clean and quiet the starship seemed. It had almost reached the point that she could tell what part of the Holmes her engineer was working on by the mix of oil and ionized particles in the air. She decided the Galactic Survey Cruiser probably had its own unique aromas but these had been buried by the clean up crew. Quiet she could attribute to the small size of the caretaker crew.
The turbolift doors opened and the main viewer dominated her vision. Her last visit to a cruiser had been as a young girl; she expected the bridge to seem smaller than she remembered. It didn’t. The stations were so far apart, with blinking buttons in myriad colours. Their faint noises echoed in the large space. Most of the stations were manned; the crewmembers had their backs to Jessie so her reactions were private. It gave her a moment to recover from her nostalgia.
The captain’s chair took up the centre of the expansive bridge. Jessie avoided it as she made her way along the rail that separated the various monitoring stations from the central area. She ran her fingers along the science station, wistful memories of Uncle Matt proudly showing his family about his first command. Her presence caused Jake Carawan to look up. “Ah Capt… Lieutenant?” he stammered. “Amazing isn’t she?”
“Carry on crewman,” she said with a smile and retreated from his station.
Rob Cole turned in the Captain’s chair to face Jessie. “Everything’s under control ma’am. What can I do for you?” She watched his eyes and could tell he was appraising both her health and her intent.
“I thought it was time to take a look at our prize now that the doctor has cleared me.”
He quickly rose and stepped down from the dais. “Would you like to take command ma’am?”
Jessie approached slowly until she stood before the empty chair. She had sat in one before. Her uncle had placed Jessie and her brother side-by-side on the Constellation. It was the panoramic view of Earth from that seat that had set her life’s course in to space. It had been his death that had turned it aside from Starfleet and into the Police. “Thank you,” she whispered belatedly. Then she took a firm step forward, turned and lowered herself into the seat. It, too, was still pretty big and she found herself slouching to the right to reach the armrest and its controls. She remembered a picture of her uncle in the same position.
She allowed herself to enjoy the memories and the sensation of power that came with the seat. The familiar beep of a long-range communication sounded from her right and behind her. She swivelled in the chair to face the operator of the communications station. It was someone she didn’t recognize; a crewman from Watson. “Sir,” the crewman said, addressing Lieutenant Cole, “there is a call for Lieutenant Decker from Sector Command – Admiral Bryce-O’Hara.”
“Put it on the main screen,” he responded.
The Federation Seal briefly replaced the starfield and was in turn replaced by the admiral. “I was told,” she said with a knowing smile, “that you were touring the Cousteau. I see it didn’t take you long to find The Chair.” When Jessie blushed, she added. “It looks good on you.”
“Thank you, Admiral,” Jessie said, keeping her voice and expression neutral.
“Excellent work, recovering the Cousteau intact under difficult circumstances. We’re analyzing your reports. It looks like your ship paid the price of that rescue. It appears that Holmes will spend several months in spacedock. With the war,” she confessed, “Police ships have low priority in repair facilities. Hopefully we will be able to leverage this mission into a higher spot on the docket. Still, you’re looking at a long layover.”
“Yes ma’am,” Jessie answered unhappily. She did not relish the prospect of being grounded.
“Starfleet wants to give you a medal,” the Admiral continued. “Hell, the want to give you a commission.”
Jessie’s heart skipped a beat. She had not expected that at all. “Excuse me?” was all she could manage.
The Admiral enjoyed a slight smile at Jessie’s expense. “With the war, Starfleet needs experienced, capable captains as rapidly as possible. I would hate to lose you: you’ve done an excellent job, but the decision is yours.”
It was a decision Jessie had shied away from most of her adult life. She had to admit that part of her hungered for the chance. “I appreciate the offer ma’am,” she said, “but I’m not ready to give up what I have.” She could feel Rob Cole’s sudden stiffness as he looked at her.
The admiral’s expression was unreadable. “Very Good. I’ll pass your response along to Admiral Pekoske. I will see you when you get back. Sector HQ out.”
Jessie stared ahead at the starfield now occupying the main screen. She felt completely exhausted and totally unwilling to respond to the questions she felt certain Rob Cole wanted to ask. “The Cousteau is yours, Lieutenant,” she stated. “I need to get back to my ship.
“Ma’am,” he said, his tone subdued. Jessie rose from the chair and quit the bridge as quickly as possible.
-
Heeeey, nice ending, Rommie! Surprised me with the last few lines, too. I was expecting something like a promotion in to Starfleet 'proper', and that being the case I was expecting Jesse to get a promotion to Lt. Cdr. and given command of a frigate, especially as you had her cutter laid up in dock for a while. Then she goes and turns it down! I guess she really wasn't just in the police trying to prove to herself she has what it takes to be in Starfleet.
Also now that I think about it, she could have gotten a promotion to Lt. Cdr. and made XO of a destroyer, or stayed a Lt. and made XO of a frigate, to learn the Starfleet ropes.
Good job of staying true to Jesse's character. :thumbsup:
So, will we be hearing more of Jesse Decker, Policebabe at Large? And what would be her career options as a captain? The police only has cutters, flagships, and later on, a carrier or two. Will she be staying on the cutter?
Oooh! Another thought just occurred to me. Is Jesse a Police Lieutenant, or a Starfleet Lieutenant? If she's got a Police rank, she'll have a lot more experience than a Fleetie, and it'll explain why such a junior rank is in charge of even a small ship.
Looking forward to more.
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Thanks for reading and commenting.
Yes, we'll be hearing more about Jessie Decker, 'Policebabe at large'. Her rank is indeed Lieutenant in the Federation Police not Starfleet proper. I didn't want her to go to Starfleet slightly more than I wanted her to go. Thankfully she turned me down. I've got an idea or two for what's next but that will have to wait until after the wedding and honeymoon. These two parts of the epilogue - the next one is posted just after this - were written with the rest of the story but didn't feel like they belonged with it. The mood was different and they didn't help with the story I wanted to tell. But, here you go, the conclusion of the conclusion of Gremlins....
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“Dave, you have to talk to her,” Rob Cole said, his face red with emotion. The Holmes’ XO and her Chief Ground Combat Officer were in Chief Lick’s tiny office in the ship’s armoury. Lieutenant Cole had been in the cramped room a few times which was now made even smaller by the plasteel crutch the Chief needed to move about. “I mean this is Star Fleet. Most of us never get a chance like this.”
The Chief shook his head. “If I try that it will just make her more adamant. You know she could have gone into Starfleet Academy if she had wanted to. She’s already turned them down once.”
“This time is different,” Cole protested. “She could just walk into the command chair of a Starship. No years of school, nothing. What’s the matter with her?”
“Do you know how many relatives she’s lost in Starfleet?” the Chief asked.
“She’s not afraid to take risks,” Cole countered. “We’ve both seen that many times. This is a good opportunity. I’ve already tried and she just won’t listen to me.” He banged on the wall in frustration and quickly reached up to stabilize a shelf that nearly dumped its contents. “Can you at least say something to her?”
The Chief took a deep breath, sighed. “We’ll be in the middle of a game of chess this evening. I can’t promise you anything, but I’ll try and sound her out.”
“Good man,” Rob said and clapped his hands together. With a nod, he turned and slipped through the narrow doorway out into the armoury.
“That was a box of grenades you nearly dumped on us, you know,” Lick called after him and was rewarded to see Lieutenant Cole pause and then pick up his pace. The Chief ran his hand through his hair, sighed again. As he stood up and resettled the boxes of emergency rations he muttered to himself, “If this keeps up, much longer I’m going to make myself bald.”
SHIP’S LOUNGE 2100 HRS
“You are not on your game at all, Dave,” Jessie said. “That’s two early blunders and two easy wins for me. What’s bothering you?” She gathered the dark pieces from the chessboards and set them in their starting positions.
“This is my last cruise, Jess,” he answered heavily and reached for his own chessmen. “Even with the best artificial legs, you can’t be on line duty in the marines. I’m not sure I can handle a desk job.”
“A desk?” she scoffed. “You’ll be training recruits back on Earth before I get my ship back from the repair yard. Seriously, Dave,” she said, leaning towards him, “I wish there was something I could do for you. You’re responsible for most of the reputation this ship has. You know I’ve already put you up for a medal for your work on this mission. You’ll get it too.”
Dave smiled tightly, started the king’s gambit. “Yeah, the force will take good care of me, I know. What about you? Why did you really turn Starfleet down? There’s not as much room for advancement for a Police Lieutenant as there is for a Commander in Starfleet.”
“Not you too?” Jessie let him push her into the Sivek variation. “I’m sick of trying to convince Rob that I’m fine with where I am.”
He raised his hands defensively. “I don’t want to change your mind; I just want to understand your reasons. Check.”
She gave him a hard look, moved her king up a level, and nodded. “I owe it to you. Him too, probably. After the Constellation was lost, I couldn’t face Starfleet. Everyone would know I was Matt Decker’s niece and all I would get was pity. I could never be sure that I made it on my own. Here I know that I got where I am because I’m good at my job.”
“Okay,” Lick admitted, “that explains why you’re in the Police Force, but I know it already.” He began to set up a bind, trying to cramp her pieces in a narrow defensive arrangement. “You don’t have to prove anything any more. Starfleet offered you a position just now based on your own merit, not your uncle’s reputation.”
Jessie pursed her lips, took a deep breath. “I’m not sure how to explain it. I’m not a Starfleet officer. I don’t want to be a Starfleet officer. I don’t want to find new civilizations, fight a powerful foe for the survival of the Federation, or go where no one has gone before. I like upholding the law.”
He had to admit that her reasons appeared sound. He weighed it in his mind for a moment, and then decided he owed Lieutenant Cole one last try. He changed his tactics. “I believe you. Under normal circumstances I’d drop it right here. But we’re at war. Without skilled leaders we could very well lose it too. You’re more than skilled. The Federation needs you.”
She nodded in agreement and Dave was sure he had her. Then he noticed she was looking at the chessboard where the pieces had sat untouched for several minutes. “Yes the Federation needs me. Just like it needs you, Rob Cole, and a million other people. If I join Starfleet and we defeat the Klingons, what good will it do us if we come home to a ruined infrastructure with shipping lanes all but closed by Orion Pirates? The Federation needs Police Lieutenants too.” Though the move order was unusual, the position on the chessboard was fairly common. Jessie started the Fischer freeing manoeuvre.
The Chief shook his head. “I was hoping you wouldn’t see that,” he said. "I'll let Mr. Cole know that everything is as it should be."
Jessie nodded in agreement. “I see everything Chief,” she said and grinned, her mood suddenly light again. “That’s why I’m the Captain.”
FINIS
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Andromeda, that was a great last line. Perfect! And her reasons for staying in the Police tie in beautifully with my own story being currenty procrastinated over. I have about... 1,500 words? I'm trying to make each chapter about 5,000.
Anyway, glad to see Jesse doing it for all the right reasons. When's your next one?
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Great story Rommie. I love it. Her reason for staying with the police is perfect. She's not really running away from her Uncle's shadow. She's a cop because that's what she likes doing.
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Kick ass story, Rommie. The end is pretty perfect.
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Yup, I fourth the sentiments here, and agree woth Josh. Solid ending and well done.
Rolls eyes at Andy: "Policebabe at large"? Oh, dear...
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So, will we be hearing more of Jesse Decker, Policebabe at Large?
Very nice. Finally read it. Jaeih, I'll post on yours soon. And why are you blaming that on Andy?
Looking forward to the next story.
PS, Rommie's getting married Saturday so it will no doubt be a while before we see the sequel.
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Awesome! Muchos Congrats(-os) Rommie! I hope she's a very nice young lady. *grin*
Barring that, I hope he's a decent guy who'll do what you tell him. *wink*
Well, crap, Kadh! I could have sworn Andy said that and that's why I made the comment. I've just spent the last 5 mintes scouring the replies and find that I said it. My head must have been somewhere dark at that point... *grumbles to self about creeping senility...*
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I'm back and working on the sequel. Working title "A day in the life." I'll change it to something unique later.
Me=married again now.
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Congratulations.. and celebrations... * Stops singing because of the Montana class battleship's guns pointed at him*
emmmm... congrats Rommie and glad you are writing again.
+ I saw i didn't comment of the end yest (it was damn near perfect).
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Congrats on the big hook-up, Rommie!
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" I don’t want to find new civilizations, fight a powerful foe for the survival of the Federation, or go where no one has gone before. I like upholding the law.”
That is an excellent line!
Again, a great story, Rommie.
Note: You'll likely still be referred to as 'Rommie' long after we've all forgotten the TV show that started the name.
--thu guv!
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Rommie was never my nickname until I started playing the Andromedan Invaders in Starfleet Battles. Then I think I got the nickname because of the show too. Now, it's what everyone calls me and I've even changed continents.
Thanks for all the nice comments.
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Yes...and alas for Andromeda (the show) which could have been great but settled for mediocrity...then sank further...
BTW: Been a few months...how's the hitchin' post treatin' ya? (In reference to marriage, a state which I myself find quite disaggreeable)
--thu guv!
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Thanks for asking.
It's had its ups and downs. We travel a lot. We went to Russia and he got really sick and spent some time in hospital when we got home.
I'm defiinitely a positive influence. Life's good right now.
It's not for everybody, and this is my second try at it. Hopefully this will end better than the first one (which is to say not at all). Right now it feels like it will.
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I too am on my own second try at the marriage game. Frequently I ask myself WHY!
But this one has lasted 3, which is more than double what the first lasted. And I've been with Tammy for 51/2 all told. Been good.
Glad to hear yours is going well. I may be cynical about the purposes of marriage, but I like to see them go well.
--thu guv!
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Currently on my first at 5. Going well! She's taking strip classes. Chair dancing. Oh yeah. Giggity. ;D ;)
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The purpose of marriage is that a man can father children that he knows are his own without the pressures of having to fight off other men for the attentions of his woman. Since she's bonded to him, that's theoretically not a problem. Besides, he can always have her executed for adultery if it becomes one.
At least we've progressed beyond that point.
New Series: Star Trek, the porn years
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We may have...
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New Series: Star Trek, the porn years
I think I just made a sticky mess over here...
...yup.
--thu guv!
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Bumping on account of the next one in the line being coming.
Don't forget to skip to the rewrite.
-S
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Oh?
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Yeah, Jessie Decker, Spacebabe at large in "A Conspiracy of Stores."