Star Trek: Theurgy

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CHAPTER 04: SUPPLEMENTAL [ DAY 06 | 0905 HRS. ] THE REAVER

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[ Devyrie "Dragon" Okhala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Devyrie_Okhala,_callsign_%27%27Dragon%27%27) | Maintenance Bays | The Versant ] Attn: @Stegro88 @Firefox013
[Show/Hide]When the aquamarine light enveoloped her, Devyrie Okhala and her sister - Laurel - had both armed themselves. Laurel had taken a hand phaser and Devyrie had just checked the power level on her Type III rifle. A short, Klingon woman had come to aid them as well, along with a human man. Human, just like herself, Devyrie pondered in the wake of all that the Savi had put her through. It didn't matter, she told herself. She was still Aurum's daughter, and she remembered everything he'd taught her and Laurel. Now, when their skills in piloting spacecrafts were not expected of them, they would have to fall back on what they'd learned before the Academy.

Besides her sister, the Klingon and the human, there were four other NCO's from Security and Tactical, from both the Theurgy and the Endeavour, and they were supposed to help keeping the Savi away while they reclaimed the Reaver. Devyrie had heard their names as they inroduced themselves, but she was too focused on what they were about to do, and raked her brain to come up with how they might get the Reaver off the ship and away from any other Savi fighter craft. In a sense, neither she nor Laurel had a plan, so they would simply have to improvise.

When they materialised once more, they were no longer in Blue Tiran's hideout. They found themselves in a confined space, on a small platform, but there was light coming from one of the bulkheads. Dev looked around at the gathered people, and ignored the way the tablet she'd attacked to the back of her wrist whirred. She carefully made it over to the source of light, and look out through a small viewport. It was no larger than fifty centimetres wide...

...but outside, she could she massive expanse of one of the Aerodrome's docking bays.

"By Centauri's moons..." she breathed, seeing all the alien spacecrafts there, and the amount of Savi activity. It looked like several inspection teams, crew and some kind of lead researchers were out there. The crafts looked like the Asurian saucers she'd seen at the Battle of Starbase 84, only... upgraded? Yet... there was no Reaver in sight. Frowning, she moved away from the window, which was located high above the deck outside, which suggested that they were in some kind of maintenance chute in the bulkhead of the docking bay. She moved away to let the others look outside, and checked the message she had received, just like the rest of them had.

ORIENTATION: YOU ARE ON THE PORT SIDE OF THE MAIN RESEARCH VESSEL BAY, WHICH YOU CAN SEE JUST OUTSIDE. THE CHUTE YOU ARE INSIDE IS NOT SCHEDULED FOR INSPECTION FOR ANOTHER FIVE HOURS, SO YOU WILL BE ABLE TO CLIMB THE LADDER TO THE DOCKING BAY ABOVE YOU. YOU WILL THEN BE ABLE TO ACCESS THE CRAWLSPACE BELOW IT: THE PORT AUXILLARY RESEARCH BAY.

ABOVE YOUR HEADS, WHILE YOU CRAWL BELOW THE BAY AREA, YOU WILL BE ABLE TO HEAR THE MOVEMENTS OF THE RESEARCH TEAMS WORKING THERE, YET SO CAN THEY, SO BE QUIET. FOLLOW THE MAP PROVIDED TO YOU IN ORDER TO GET AS CLOSE AS YOU CAN TO THE CRAFT YOU CALL A 'REAVER'. YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO EMERGE JUST TWENTY METERS AWAY FROM IT, THROUGH A MAINTENANCE GRATE SITUATED ON THE STARBOARD SIDE OF THE BAY.

THE RESEARCH TEAM MIGHT HAVE REMOVED PARTS FOR CLOSER STUDIES, AND THE SCION LEADING THE PROJECT IS NAMED BITHAL, AND BY TERMINATING HIM, HIS ACCESS TO THE REAVER WILL BE PASSED ON TO ME, IN WHICH CASE I WILL GRANT YOU ACCESS TO IT'S COCKPIT. I CANNOT, HOWEVER, OPERATE IT REMOTELY, FOR I AM NO PILOT AND I HAVE NO EXPERIENCE WITH THE CONTROL INTERPHASE.

That was all that the message said. Devyrie cleared her throat. "So, we climb up, and then crawl below the deck of the bay above us, until we reach the far side, and then try to kill one of the overgrown bugs, so that 'Moby' can pop the canopy for us?" Devyrie looked towards Laurel. "I suggest we take it nice and easy, but in the end, it might get really messy, since there's little to hide behind. Any suggestions, or should we just go and hope for the best?"

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OOC: No set posting order, but 7 days begin today! This is all very free-form, and there won't be a map. I have, however, an exterior view that might help: [Show/Hide]Let's just improvise and have fun, right? :)

[Lieutenant JG Gideon Drake | Main Research Vessel Bay | The Versant ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Stegro88
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Gideon was also astonished at the sight. He was somewhat disappointed by the saucers. Lack of variety. Nonetheless, he was prepared. He had his rifle ready and was ready for orders from Laurel's sister.

It took a while for Gideon to detect any difference between the Okhala Sisters. Besides the age difference, lack of ridges and the fact that one of them sported braids, the girls could easily have been twins. Gideon was taken in by Laurel, but even more so by her sister. Maybe it was the lack of ridges.

Gideon shrugged off the infatuation. Laurel's sister would easily hand his arse back to him in a bottle of Romulan Ale.

Reading Moby's instructions, Gideon felt a rush of nostalgia. He remembered something similar in his days in the Maquis. The only difference was the lack of Cardies.

"I might have an idea, Lau...I'm sorry, Dev," he corrected, taking one look at Dev's face and mistaking it for Laurel's; he had been mistaking the sisters if he didn't look right, but he was getting better at distinguishing them. He momentarily forgot about the braids.

"It's just, Dev...is it alright if I call you Dev? If there's little to hide behind, the best course of action could be to make the most of whatever hiding places there are. We could stick to the shadows as much as possible, depending on how deep the shadows are; memorize their patrols and actions, determine when is the best possibility to move when their backs are turned or whenever they don't see us. Of course, it depends on where the crawlspace will be on their decks, as well as how often the Savi look up. Or down, if the crawlspace is under the deck floor, but it also depends on the design of the crawlspace. We'll just have to see when we get there.

"Silence is essential; I concur with Moby's instructions. It's necessary to be as quiet as possible.

"As for the Scion, it would be essential to make his death look like an accident. Trying to snipe at him would be an easy way to get his attention. Depending on his surrounding environs, there could be something to make his death look like an accident."

Gideon stopped a moment to think some more. He was trying to figure what tactics, particularly stealth tactics, would work for this. He remembered using similar tactics in his time in the Maquis, but he was older now. And he concurred on the subject of remaining silent; it seemed most critical of all.

He looked up at Laurel, double-taked, and looked back at Dev.

"They're the best suggestions I have to offer for the moment," he said. "Once we get around, it'll depend entirely on what the decks look like. And as indicated previously, silence is most essential."

He was again taken in by Dev. She looked even better looking than Laurel did. Maybe it's the braids. Or the smooth forehead doubling her beauty.

Laurel may have to explain to me how she had such an attractive sister, let alone a sister who's a part of a crew of traitors, he thought. Then he squirmed momentarily; his thought seemed rich, considering he used to be part of a band of what Starfleet regarded as traitors.

He was still leery of those who served on the Theurgy, but it is best to cooperate with them for now. They're as much captives on this ship as he was with his fellow crewmates from the Endeavour. Nothing drove the point home more than the phrase "the enemy of my enemy is my friend." Inquiring about what the Theurgy crew's opinions will come later. Much later.

[ PO1 Mickayla MacGregor | Maintenance Bays | The Versant ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Multificionado
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After hearing Lieutenant Drake speak up, volunteering to join them in their mission to retrieve the Reaver, Mickayla had taken a moment to think about the past few days. At first, she had been worried about Drake and the others from the Endeavour and that had lasted up until the pain had started. After that, she had been so focused on herself and what had been done to her that she had not spared a thought about what might have happened to the others. But then she had spoken to Cross and Khorin. It made her realise that others were hurting, just as she was. And that if they wanted to escape this hell then they all had to work together.

The working together part was what made Mickayla uneasy. No one may have said it out lout, but it was obvious to Mickayla that this ‘Moby’ that was aiding them through Commander Tiran was one of THEM. One of the ones who had tortured her. And he had to be pretty high up the tree if he was able to do everything that he had done for them. Which did make him their best chance at escape.

“Or this is just another simulation,” Mickayla thought to herself as she listened to Drake speak with the sisters. Ensign Okhala, it appeared, had been corrected to full Romulan while her sister now appeared completely human. “But can we take the chance that it is not the real thing?” Mickayla wondered for an instant. “No, if this is real, then we have to take it.”

“Sir, Ma’ams, Petty Officer First Class Mickayla MacGregor,” Mickayla introduced herself. She had only met the ensign once and never her sister. “Furthering to the idea of what Lieutenant Drake said; we need to do a recon of the target area. As much as Commander Tiran is trusting this Moby, I refuse to. Not after what they have done. We need to get the lay of the land and check for any traps,” Mickayla advised calmly. This was her area of expertise. Drake may be a tactical officer but she was trained to get down in the mud and fight, hand to hand if necessary. And now her wholly Klingon blood called for battle.

“But we also need to act fast. While it says we have 5 hours, the other teams won’t wait that long,” Mickayla pointed out. “I suggest we send two ahead to scout while the rest follow behind at a slower pace.”

[Lieutenant JG Gideon Drake | Main Research Vessel Bay | The Versant ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Stegro88
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Gideon nodded in understanding, and in agreement with Mickayla's suggestions. She had been silent for the most part since he saw her again, fully "corrected" with a full Klingon forehead. It was understandable if she was depressed. Then again, he felt the least hurt by his correction. Hardly anybody would miss his ridges. Indeed, hardly anybody took notice of them, being half-Bajoran as he was; the ridges were almost invisible.

The more he thought of Mickayla's suggestion, the more he concurred that a recon definitely seemed necessary. Her suggestion made sense. He was trained in tactics, true enough, but Mickayla was trained in more accurate forms of combat. Gideon knew combat forms, true, but he was learned in plenty of stealth tactics. He practiced hide-and-seek and other stealth forms and stealth tactics on his off-duty hours, mostly his exercise periods to get his stealth skills as well as himself in shape. Otherwise, he spent them studying more tactical exercises or just reading stories, mostly mysteries, as they fascinated him the most. Sometimes he invited people he wanted to get to know for chess games or, for groups of more than two, card games. He always did it since he graduated.

He smiled at the memory and at Mickayla's words. Mickayla was always a good friend ever since he came to the Endeavour. Another mongrel Scot. But they were just friends in that aspect; Gideon was always smitten with other girls. Like with Laurel.

"I concur on that aspect, Mickayla," he said. "Get the lay of the land and check for traps."

He turned to the sisters and almost addressed Laurel as Dev. He shook his head momentarily; maybe he was flustered by the appearance of an even more attractive sister.

"D...I mean, Laurel," he said, correcting himself in time, then nodding at the other sister. "Dev, Laurel, I can take up the recon if you wish. I know stealth tactics. One of the other ladies can come if you'd like. I stand by your orders."

Much as he had confidence in Mickayla, in a stealth operation like this, subtlety and silence was critical, and a hotheaded Klingon may likely give them away, but if she did come, she may need to exercise as much restraint as possible. The Klingon in her (well, out as well) may likely be wanting to make her tormentors pay as much as possible. He understood that feeling well.

"There's one more thing I have to suggest," he added. "On the Scion, if it transpires there's no likely way to make his death look like an accident, if it transpires that we have to commence sniper action, then we need the element of surprise on our side. We'd need to take the wanker out as much as possible.

"What do you wish, Lau...I mean, Dev?" he asked, again correcting himself. He knew that Dev was in charge, and he was ready for orders.

Still, he couldn't help but think when the chips are down, all their plans may have to be thrown out the window at some point. It may be likely to make things up as they go. Messy, unpredictable, but fun. That's why he liked card games like poker. Games of chance fascinated him; one never knew the outcome, one never knew about the unpredictable probabilities. Not to mention it helped him learn to accept and adjust to the unpredictable, adjust to taking chances, whenever they came up.

Most tacticians would cringe at taking chances after making carefully laid plans, only to throw them out the window by circumstance. Gideon, however, had learned to expect the unpredictable if and when it should happen.

[ Devyrie "Dragon" Okhala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Devyrie_Okhala,_callsign_%27%27Dragon%27%27) | Maintenance Bays | The Versant ] Attn: @Stegro88 @Firefox013
[Show/Hide]In different ways, the Okhala sisters were unimpressed by the way officer Gideon Drake mixed them up during the course of the short planning session. Laurel rolled her eyes and looked away, catching on to the man's interest in Devyrie, while Dev raised her eyebrows and cocked a hip, putting her hand on it. Oh, if the talkative Human only knew what she'd just been through. Far be it from her mind to entertain the notion of male company until she'd put the Versant, the Ovri and all the rest far behind her.

No, Devyrie found herself wanting back to Angel, in particular, and tell her what she'd endured, and cry herself to sleep in her sister wolf's arms. Yet first...

...first, they had to get a Reaver back. The Klingon offered a good plan on dividing the team a bit, if nothing else to dampen the amount of noise they'd make. If 'Moby' told them to be quiet, then it occured to her that he might be suggesting how sensitive the Savi were to noise. At first, she'd thought it strange how anyone would be able to hear them crawling beneath a busy docking bay deck, but if that was the case? Mickayla's suggestion might just be the way to go about this, and Laurel seemed to have the same idea.

"Sis," she said, clenching her jaw, "I can go first if you want. Just be careful."

"No," said Devyrie, shaking her head a little, "Father used to say that the aborting a mission was about how many in the team could escape alive. You might be more silent than I am, but if they hear me, then you have a better chance of remaining hidden and escaping harm. You might be trapped if they hear either of the rest of us. You’ll be left without escape if you go first, unable to retrace your steps back here."

"You're just like Mother. Overprotect-"

"Nonetheless, that's my order. You crawl together with Mister Drake, and I go first with MacGregor. The four of you," she said and nodded towards the NCO's further back, "you team up in two and follow Laurel and Drake. Wait at least one minute after the couple ahead of you leave... before you begin to make your way to the marked location on the tablets."

Devyrie looked towards Mickayla and nodded towards the ladder that would take them up to the designated docking bay. "Let's go. Imagine you are hunting Targ in the wilderness... or something. Just be as quiet as you can, and we'll see if the Savi that is helping us is good on his word."

Having said this, Devyrie led the way, the rifle on her back and her hand phaser at her hip as she ascended into the darkness above the small platform.

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OOC: Stegro 88 posts next, ending the post with them just about to reach the marker on the map, detailing the long crawl. Then, Multi does the same, and feel free to NPC Laurel on the way, giving her dialogue or whatever you need. Leave the outcome with the NCOs open for later, since they are crawling by themselves. My next post will set the scene at the new bay!

[ PO1 Mickayla MacGregor | Maintenance Bays | The Versant ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Multificionado 
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"Let's go. Imagine you are hunting Targ in the wilderness... or something. Just be as quiet as you can, and we'll see if the Savi that is helping us is good on his word,” said Ensign Okhala’s sister; Dev, Drake had called her. Not that Mickayla was about to call her that. Not without permission.

As she holstered her phaser pistol and tightened the sling on her rifle that was slung across her back, Mickayla silently riled at others constantly assuming she was seemingly a prototypical Klingon. She was anything but.

“I’ve never been Targ hunting. And the only reason I know what a Targ is, is because of it being brought up so many times in conversation with others over the years that I looked up what they were,” Mickayla noted to herself as she watched Dev Okhala begin to climb up the ladder. She waited a few moments before stepping forward and beginning to climb herself. “If the path given to us is right, this climb should be about 20 metres high. Though I resent the implication that because I am now completely Klingon, that I am incapable of being stealthy. First Drake, with his whole, ‘I know stealth tactics’ and then Dev herself picking me to come with her after telling her sister that she would go first because if they heard her, the others would have a better chance of escape.”

The climb itself wasn’t bad. The tube they were in seemed to be built for someone taller than she was given the spacing between the rungs on the ladder, which was larger than was convenient for her stature; and the amount of space between the ladder and the opposing wall. Instead of a cylindrical tube, it more resembled an ovoid one. And one that had a small grill-like opening every few meters. Mickayla had counted 5 of them as she had climbed. 

She had, at first, been worried about being spotted through them but soon realised that between their height off the deck, the darkness of the tube verses the hanger and the figure-hugging black suits they were all wearing that someone would literally have to have their eyes pressed up to the grill to spot them. And as long as they were quiet, no one should do that.

“Klingons are warriors, sure, I get that. But they also use cloaking devices on all their ships so they know the value of stealth,” Mickayla added to her internal monologue as she reached the end of the ladder. “Surely they all can’t be like that loud mouthed Khorin.”

Coming out of the tube, Mickayla found herself in some sort of junction with tubes leading off in all directions. There was just enough light in the junction to allow her to catch sight of Dev as she sat in the opening of one of the junctions. Without exchanging words, the two set off again. 

The crawlspace beneath the deck was slightly larger than the ladder tube Mickayla had climbed; roughly a metre square. Not enough to stand on your feet but more than enough for an uncomfortable crawl on your hands and knees. Once again, there were grates tube letting light in but this time they were in the roof, showing the Port Auxiliary Research Bay; or so message said. This crawl was slower as any noise they made might be heard by those above and they didn’t have the luxury of distance to hide them; the Savi were right above them. 

And so, they crawled, all 200 metres of it; stopping more than once when one of the vents ahead of them had its light blocked by a Savi standing above it. Dev at one point had stopped so suddenly that Mickayla, unable to see in the near darkness, had actually bumped her face into the officer’s firm backside. Stifling a curse, Mickayla’s mind actually wondered what the officer looked like out of her infiltration suit.

“If the rest of her is as firm as her ass, she should look pretty good. Especially with those blond dreadlocks,” she thought. “What the fuck Mickayla! This is not the time to be fantasising. Just because one guy screwed you over and you are wondering about switching teams does not mean you start daydreaming in the middle of missions,” she chastised herself. “Besides, with what you are thinking about, it is going to take a pretty unique woman to surrender herself to you. Since you won’t give up control like that again.”

Continuing to silently rebuke herself, Mickayla followed Dev as they made their way closer and closer to their destination. At one point, Mickayla had to stop because she thought she heard voices behind them but didn’t pause for long enough to confirm it. After what seemed like forever, Mickayla finally emerged into another junction.

“Great, just another short climb and we are there,” Mickayla noted to herself. “Wherever there is." As she waited for Dev to begin climbing, she once again found herself admiring the officer’s form. “Jesus Mickayla, you’re not even sure you swing that way. Eyes front and focus,” Mickayla reprimanded herself as she set about stretching her own back.

Dev once again set off and Mickayla fell in behind for another short climb up a ladder. Mickayla forced herself to keep her eyes on the ladder in front of her so that her mind didn’t wander. She almost wished that she was back to obsessing about everything being over and ending her life but that was, in a way, worse than what she was doing now. Suicidal wasn’t allowing her to function. This, if she could control it, hopefully would.

Finally, they reached the point that was marked by Moby on their PADDs, a maintenance grate in the side of the tunnel. Mickayla wordlessly excused herself as she squeezed past the pilot; a task that brought their bodies exceedingly close together and required the unslinging of their phaser rifles to accomplish. Retrieving her rifle, Mickayla returned it to her back and drew her phaser pistol. In position to guard her end of the tunnel, all the two of them could do was wait for the others and hope they had similar success in their journey.

[Lieutenant JG Gideon Drake | Maintenance Bays Crawlspaces | The Versant ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Stegro88
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"Father used to say that the aborting a mission was about how many in the team could escape alive. You might be more silent than I am, but if they hear me, then you have a better chance of remaining hidden and escaping harm. You might be trapped if they hear either of the rest of us. You'll be left without escape if you go first, unable to retrace your steps back here."

Gideon nodded at Dev's words from her father (and Laurel's) with respect. The sisters' father sounded like a wise man. But while he accepted Dev's orders, he cringed on the inside of Mickayla coming with her; did she choose her because of the likelihood of noise? It seemed to be another implied misconception just because Mickayla was half-Klingon (well, full Klingon now), and he learned that lesson the hard way on the Endeavour.

True, they knew each other, but the level of friendship was at a minimum, a professional relationship at best. Besides being newer than her and Laurel, despite trying to be friends with Mickayla because she was a "mongrel Scot" like him, she was always distant with him. Then again, she was half a dozen or so years his senior, and she never had time to be friends with any young blood.

All the same, Gideon never stopped feeling pity for Mickayla, and those feelings of pity had increased ever since he saw her after her "correction."

What he can do to cheer her up will have to wait.

He climbed, following the preceding girls from a distance. He was impressed by the layout. It gave him memories of Aschelan V, back in his Maquis days. 20 meters was this chute? He had climbed vents in the Cardassian fuel depot to infiltrate and get its layout, especially after the missile B'Lanna Torres intended to hit the depot with disappeared. The vent was twice as long, as he recalled. He got the layout of the depot this way, with the Cardassians never seeing him, given the Maquis would need to know as much as possible about it.

"Reminds me of Aschelan V," he whispered to Laurel. "Cardassian depot. Enough places for me to hide in, D...Laurel," he whispered, hastily correcting himself, remembering Dev was in the lead.

"Oh, will you stop mixing us up, Drake?" hissed Laurel, her voice volume at a whisper but enough for Gideon to hear him. "And when will you stop spinning yarns about the Maquis? You would've been, what, a kid? If any word you said was true, I'll eat Dev's braids."

"My tactics and my operations were true, Laruel," said Gideon calmly, still quietly. "Remember our first date?"

"Beating me first at hide-and-seek and then at chess hardly qualifies as a fun first date," muttered Laurel. "My romantic thoughts went out the airlock after I couldn't find you for an hour on that holodeck."

"I was demonstrating how good I was," said Gideon. "Some people were impressed in my previous postings..."

"But not me," hissed Laurel. "I don't know what makes you think you're a ladies' man, but hide-and-seek is not a good way to impress anybody. And don't think I've seen you with MacGregor, you are not going to go anywhere with..."

"I don't have that much a relationship with her," said Gideon, doing as much as he can to remain whispering. "She's a mongrel Scot like me, even if the alien halves are different. I'm doing what I can to be nice to her, even if she pushes me and everybody else away."

"Whatever," said Laurel. "The next time you ask me out, don't follow up dinner with hide-and-seek. Chess I can tolerate but this..."

She didn't finish, because Gideon shushed her; they were at the top.

He could see a junction of different crawlspaces in different directions, and he saw the one where Dev and Mickayla went off in.

"This way," he said, indicating the direction they went, his whisper lower than ever. "Try to keep as quiet as much as possible," he added, deadly serious. "There could be Savi around, closer we get. Don't be surprised if I stop unexpectedly, we would have to stop at some points to avoid detection."

Laurel looked like she would've continued chewing him off, but she took in how serious he became. She nodded in understanding but replied in the same volume as he, "How come you're in Tactical?"

"I've always been good at target practice, Laurel, especially with the ships guns," said Gideon, and proceeded in, gesturing Laurel to follow.

Small a space as it was, this was the environment Gideon was accustomed to, especially in his days in the Maquis. Granted, he was much bigger now, but he knew crawlspaces like this. There were lights for sure, and whenever a Savi passed, it meant a shadow, and Gideon gestured for Laurel to stop: Palm front, followed by the "shh" gesture, meaning quiet. Then when they passed, he gestured again to follow. It happened a few more times the entire 200-meter length, and there were a couple of times when Gideon was worried. But aside from that, the crawl went without incident.

Gideon noted how well the suits "Moby" provided helped shield them in the shadows. It's a pity there wasn't something similar distributed by Starfleet.

They finally reached the point marked by "Moby," and Gideon almost missed it; if he wasn't counting the entire way, he wouldn't have seen the grate and would've kept on going. What's more, he saw Dev and Mickayla waiting for them.

"Psst. Oi. Dev. Mickayla. We're here," he whispered, and then exited the crawlspace, moving silently, with Laurel bringing up the rear.

"Glad to see you both made it okay," he said with a friendly whisper.

[ Devyrie "Dragon" Okhala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Devyrie_Okhala,_callsign_%27%27Dragon%27%27) | Maintenance Bays | The Versant ] Attn: @Stegro88 @Firefox013
[Show/Hide]With the belief that the Savi did have good hearing, Devyrie had been as cautious as possible when dodging past the vents above them. She'd been so cautious that she'd stopped too soon at one time, and the Klingon behind her and crawled right into her. She'd thrown her a look of indignation, at the way she'd done it, where she'd barely stifled a yelp of shock, but she really couldn't blame the other woman either. It was her fault too.

So, she had crawled onwards the stretch of distance fraying her nerves, yet she kept her father's lessons close to heart, and pushed onwards. Not a moment too soon, they reached the point on their maps which told them to climb again, and she met the eyes of her silent companion. She had no means to guess at the Klingon's thoughts, but saw her looking at Devyrie's suit. She didn't catch on to why, entirely too focused on the mission at hand, and merely managed a smile in the lines of 'we've made it this far,' and a nod, before she climbed up the next chute. Not much further...

Once they reached the marked location, there was another small opening, from where they could look out into the new bay area. And sure enough, seeing it with Mickayla pressed up close to her, there it was. The Reaver...

The thing that should not be, it sat there right below them. Merely ten meters out from the side of the large bay. The bay area was as dimly lit as the rest of the Versant, yet there were lights around the corners and down the lanes which the different Savi crafts were to move. As for the Reaver itself, Devyrie could see that it was surrounded with different apparatus of Savi origin. Some of the maintenance panels were open down the dark fuselage, and there were cables of unknown purpose attached to the innards of the futuristic spacecraft. She could see Savi around it too. Three of them, not bugs, but the smaller kind. "Smaller" being relative, since they were close to seven feet tall. But no bug-

A quiet chirp came from her hand-phaser, and she saw it's kill settings light up, becoming available to pick. Her green eyes widened, since she knew that it had to mean. The Scion. She raised her other hand and looked at the map that 'Moby' had given them, showing Savi life-signs. And sure enough, there was a Scion not far away. She looked out the maintenance grate again, and there it was...

Devyrie heard Gideon and Laurel arrive, but she didn't look away - her pupils following the shape that was moving across the dark bay area. She could see the dim light gleaming against chitin and protrusions from its back. It moved in an odd way, and it appeared like it had three legs. It looked as if it had dropped something, looking towards the deck beneath it's feet. It had two regular Savi behind it as well. Armed and-

"No," she whispered, eyes wide. "They are on to us." She rounded on the two newly arrived. "Did you guys make any noises? Any at all?"

There was a metallic sound heard from the bay area, and when she looked back, she saw how the Scion had torn a vent panel open in the deck, and reached down below it. With a brutal motion it, tore a figure out from the maintenance tunnel - the very same one the four of them had just crawled through. The Scion held the figure aloft, and she could see that it was one of the NCOs. The man screamed at the sight of the Scion, kicking and flailing, until he tried to point his hand phaser towards those mandibles and four eyes. Without hesitation, the monstrous alien delivered a backhand strike to the man's head, and with its sharp chitin edges, it split the man's neck open half-way.

Devyrie closed her eyes and looked away, while the other Savi began to open the vent panels in the deck, flushing the four NCOs out. The loud commotion, it made Dev realise that they would only get this chance at a distraction. "Out," she said, clenching her teeth together. "Laurel, stay here, lay cover fire and snipe that thing! MacGregor, Drake, we're heading out there. We all have the Scion as the main target, but we need to get close to the Reaver and blast off those cables! Follow me!"

"Dev!" called Laurel, but there was no time. Devyrie kicked the grate before her open, and she dropped down below. Two meters down, she grunted and rolled, setting off towards the Reaver. She raised her hand phaser and stunned one of the Savi that was in her way, hoping the other two would follow her. What am I doing?

---

OOC: Have fun! @Stegro88 goes first, I think. :)

[ PO1 Mickayla MacGregor | Maintenance Bays | The Versant ]
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Mickayla couldn’t see what was going on through the vent. Didn’t really need to for her to do her job; which was protect the pilots. A task that had just gotten inordinately more difficult when Dev, after delivering a rushed set of instructions, kicked the grate open and jumped through it. Mickayla couldn’t see if she landed safely or what was below the grate. And she didn’t have time to check.

“Ma’am, don’t suppose you want to ask Moby for a sword for me?” Mickayla asked Laurel, only half-joking. “I get the feeling I’m gonna wish I had one soon enough.” Without saying more, the Klingon stepped out of the grate and dropped to the ground.

Using her, now much stronger, legs to cushion her fall, Mickayla landed in a crouch. Immediately scanning her surroundings, she snapped off two quick shots to stun the two Savi that stood near the Reaver. Not seeing anymore of the bipedal ones near the ship, she rushed across the gap and crouched down next to the fighter. During her sprint to cover, she had noted the positions of the Savi Scion and the two Antes that were accompanying him. They were still tearing at the floor, trying to get to the other three security members that were still in the tunnel under it.

Moving around to the far side of the Reaver, Mickayla peeked out to check that they were still where she had seen them last. One of the Antes was still going at the floor while the other had straightened up and was looking around; as was the Scion with rapidly dying man still in his grasp.

“I’m going to regret this,” Mickayla said to herself as she stood up and stepped out of cover. Raising her phaser pistol, she aimed at the Ante that was working at the floor. “Hey bug brain, payback time!” she shouted at the Scion before pulling the trigger.

---

OOC: That should get the Scion's attention and pull him into a position for everyone else to get shots at him.

[Lieutenant JG Gideon Drake | Maintenance Bays Crawlspaces | The Versant ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Stegro88
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Gideon had crawled out, noting how Dev's attention was rapt. He looked out and saw the Reaver. Certainly something to give a Maquis Raider a run for its money, he thought. Then he saw...

There it was. The Scion. Gideon just cringed at the sight (seriously, it was the ugliest creature he ever laid eyes on) ...as well as the fact that it was looking down the crawlspace he and Laurel went through.

"We were as silent as possible," whispered Gideon when Dev rounded on him and Laurel. "There was no way...shite."

He saw what the Scion was doing. Big-And-Ugly ripped through the panels and grabbed somebody...one of the NCOs. Gideon knew the man. Guy, as he remembered, he met him during a poker game one time. Gideon cringed worse as he saw Big-And-Ugly rip Guy's head off.

The jig was up. He never knew the rest of the NCOs, but they didn't seem to be as proficient at stealth tactics and maneuvers very well.

And yet, Gideon could see the opportunity for a distraction. Dev must've seen it, too, because of her orders to instruct Laurel to stay and snipe at Big-And-Ugly. As she and Mickayla broke through the grate, he turned to Laurel.

"Good luck, Laurel," he said tenderly. "You can do this. Just try to hit as much of Big-And-Ugly as possible," he added, gesturing at the Scion. "We got the element of surprise on our side. I wish you the best."

He grasped her hand firmly and shook it with encouragement; he would've given her a peck on the cheek, but it didn't seem like the right moment, and frankly, it would only fluster her. A sniper needed to be focused.

He jumped, rolled and followed Dev and Mickayla.

With the exception of stunning the Antes guarding the Reaver, the rush over was uneventful to Gideon. Now what was next was to blast off the cables, although Big-And-Ugly was just as high a priority.

He had just shot at a set of cables when he heard Mickayla calling out to the Scion. He looked around and saw her take aim. He sliced through another set of cables and then joined Mickayla.

She got Big-And-Ugly's attention, all right.

Checking quickly to make sure he was still on "stun" setting, Gideon shot at one of the Antes accompanying Big-And-Ugly, and then set to "kill." He then took aim at the Scion.

Much as he was an excellent shot, he was always better when it came to a ship's targeting system, which was why he preferred Tactical over Security, but he was still a weapons expert in any case.

He could see how lousy the situation was. The lighting sucked, for one thing; he wouldn't be able to see the ugly sucker well enough to get a good shot at him. Much as Mickayla wished "Moby" packed a sword, Gideon wished "Moby" included night vision scopes for their guns. However, he can compensate; all he had to do was aim at the head or the legs, which, in his opinion, seemed to be the more critical areas of Big-And-Ugly's anatomy, and try to keep out of his way if he makes a beeline.

He shot at the Scion, determining his head, taking in a few rapid shots and then ducked back, shot at more cables, and then turned to Dev.

"I'm leaving the rest of them, Dev, although I may blast off more," he told her. "Mickayla and I will cover you, and try to keep Big-And-Ugly off our arses. Just be sure to let me know if there are still a lot of cables left, and I'll get as much as I can. We can do this!"

He smiled and grasped Dev's open hand as a gesture of encouragement, like what he did with Laurel, and then turned back to shoot at the Scion some more.

As dangerous as the situation was, he felt a surge of confidence in success. He also felt a thrill of the fight, and he never felt that way since he took part in the Maquis attack on Panora, and it was there where he found the insidious Gul who kept his mother as an enslaved pleasure woman and killed him. He realized why he was feeling this way: as he fought to ensure his mother had peace from her haunted past, so he fought to ensure his own personal freedom, and the freedom of his friends and colleagues trapped here.

"That's right," he said at the Scion. "This is how we do things in the Maquis, or whatever our area of expertise be. Surprise and the right timing of tactical assault...it's a science, biatch."

[ Devyrie "Dragon" Okhala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Devyrie_Okhala,_callsign_%27%27Dragon%27%27) | Port Auxillary Bay | The Versant ] Attn: @Stegro88 @Firefox013
[Show/Hide]When she had reached the Reaver, Devyrie Okhala had pushed herself up against one of the aft landing gears, closing her green eyes in gratefulness that she managed to reach the craft unscathed. The bay was rippling with light now, phaser fire from her remaining companions lancing through the darkness - the comparative brilliance blinding her.

Focus, Devyrie, she imagined her father telling her again, like when she'd run his obstacle courses on Alpha Centauri and sniped wooden boards in the undergrowth. Breathe, he'd tell her,  but unless you're pinned down, keep moving!

Determined not to choke, just because she wasn't used to combat outside a cockpit, she listened to what the others were saying, but she had no time to acknowledge any outstretched hand from the one called Drake. They were in the middle of a battle, and he was flirting? She was of a mind to kick him, but that wouldn't be any help if they were to get out of the bay in one piece. Baring her teeth, she wordlessly switched her hand phaser to kill, and began to sever cables - her smooth forehead beaded with sweat.

Meanwhile, the Scion caught her attention, the giant beast moving in her peripheral vision. It screeched in its flight towards cover, having been hit by Mickayla and Drake, only it was merely hurt. It was like seeing a spider caught in the open, the clicking of its three limbs against the deck only adding to it. It was far too quick than anything of that size had the right to be. It was... saying something, she believed, in a contralto call chopped up by clicking noises from its mandibles. There was a noise rising, and it took Dev a moment to understand that it was the equivalent of an alarm - raised in reaction to their presence. That meant backup was coming. "I think there will be more of them real soon!"

And as if on cue, there were flares of aquamarine light, and more black shapes appeared in the dimply lit bay. Six Antes, not in armour, but armed with graviton rifles. It did not last long until they returned fire, and Devyrie had to abandon the last three cables attached to the Reaver so that she might dive back into cover behind one of the landing gears. The graviton beams cut into the landing gears, and after a few seconds, the Reaver above her began to crash down unto her.

"We have to get out!" she called to the other two, likely also taking cover, but at least she was saved by how the weight of the fighter had caught itself against the edge of the gear housing. Keep moving!

Said and done, she had to leave her cover, lest she'd be crushed any second. She made for the far side of the Reaver, and expected to be shot in the back. She whipped her head around, expecting to see which of the Savi might kill her...

...only she saw how the remaining three NCOs were laying cover fire for them. They hadn't been killed, instead using the vents in the bay floor as man-hole trenches, from which they could fire against the newly arrived Savi. Devyrie couldn't have been more thankful for the sight, but as soon as he reached the far side of the Reaver, it came crashing down unto the deck - the landing gears sewered. She cast her eyes about, to make sure Mickayla and Drake hadn't been crushed.

"Three more cables, right there!" she said, pointing, and then climbed on top of the Reaver's wing. She was already firing against the moving shapes in the darkness, and when her hand phaser was depleted, she tossed it and whipped her rifle forward instead.

'Where's the Scion?" she called over the noise of the fire-fight. They couldn't afford to loose it.

---

OOC: Hope they made it out from underneath the Reaver in time! @Stegro88 goes first again. If you could illustrate how the Savi shoots up Laurel's hiding place in your posts, it would make for a more personal angle in my next post. :)

[ PO1 Mickayla MacGregor | Port Auxiliary Bay | The Versant ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Multificionado
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"We have to get out!" Came the shouted call from Dev from under the Reaver. Mickayla wasn’t sure what she was doing there but when she turned to look, she was just in time to watch the Reaver drop as one of the landing struts gave way.

“Shit!” Mickayla cursed as she dived sideways, unsure which way the fighter would fall next. She had no idea where Drake was and when she recovered from her dive, she realised that she had dived out into the open. The only saving grace, and what probably saved her life in that moment, was the Reaver crashing to the deck and drawing everyone’s attention to it. 

Laying prone and absolutely still, Mickayla quickly assessed her options. Back to the Reaver would just draw more fire to it and she had no idea how much the fighter craft could take. Staying where she was was suicide which only left the access points that the other three were continuing to use as foxholes. 

Checking her phaser pistol, Mickayla realised that she only had perhaps a dozen shots left with it on the stun setting; less if she switched to kill. Unlimbering her rifle from her back would be too awkward on the move. Casting her eyes around to judge distances in the phaserlit research bay, Mickayla spied the dead corpse of the crewman that the Scion had killed. His body was now a crumpled mess from what appeared to be a very forceful throw on the Scion’s part, given the condition of the body.

Choosing to ignore just how exactly the body got to where it now was, Mickayla instead thanked whatever higher power was above them because the man’s weapons, both pistol and rifle, were with him. And it was on the way to where one of the others was shooting at the Antes.

Crawling across the expanse of the open deck, Mickayla made her way to the corpse and retrieved the weapons in question. Just as she was about to start crawling again, the corpse beside her was shattered by the impact of a gravition blast; showering Mickayla in blood and gore.

Shaking her head to free it of what she could, Mickayla leapt to her feet and dashed towards the closest foxhole; firing her phaser behind her as best she could. The three crewmen using them, seeing her predicament, increased their covering fire to try and protect her as best they could but the Antes were still able to return fire. Graviton shots flew past her as she weaved from side to side. While it made her a harder target, it also periodically blocked the crewman in front of her’s vision. Mickayla had a perfect view as a blast that missed her impacted the woman squarely in the face; removing her head and dropping the body back into the access tunnel. Falling into a slide, Mickayla skidded across the deck before dropping into the shaft and out of sight.

Barely managing from keeping her face out of another pool of blood, Mickayla checked her phaser pistol. With only a single shot left, she tossed it aside and drew the woman’s unused pistol from her holster and put it into hers. Propping the woman’s rifle against the tunnel wall, she looked down the tunnel towards the next vent.

“Rifle here!” she shouted when the crewman there looked back at her. “Pick your shots! Try to keep them pinned!” When he nodded, Mickayla slung the rifle she had gathered earlier from the deck over her shoulder to join her own, picked up the first pistol she had recovered and readied herself to return to the fray.

Jumping up, Mickayla pulled herself out of the foxhole only to see an Ante scarcely 2 meters away and already levelling its weapon at her. Unable to raise her phaser pistol, Mickayla could do nothing but wait for death to claim her. But it was not meant to be.

A phaser shot descended from the darkness and hit the Ante square in the chest. As it fell to the deck stunned, Mickayla heaved herself up and took off at a sprint for the Reaver. Knowing she had been saved by Ensign Ohkala, she spared a moment to look up to where she should be and saw several more phaser shots erupt from the vent. But she had fired too fast.

The Antes that she had been firing at after saving Mickayla had seen where she was firing from and 2 of them turned their weapons onto her. She had dropped two of their number and if left unchecked would take out more of them. Mickayla could do nothing as she watched their shots hit the wall around where the vent should have been.

“Shit,” Mickayla said as she reached the Reaver and ducked around behind it. Dev was up on the wing firing way and Drake was nearby as well.

“Sir, Ma’am,” Mickayla said in greeting as she pulled one of the rifles from her back and set it against the Reaver. “I picked this up while I was out and about. Thought it might be useful,” she quipped as she drew her second phaser pistol. She thought she had heard Dev earlier asking about the Scion but she wasn’t sure. Either way, running into him would be a bad idea. 

“They spotted Laurel’s sniper perch. I’m going to go check on her,” Mickayla briefed. “I’d recommend you stay here ma’am where Lieutenant Drake can cover you. We cannot afford to lose either pilot and damn sure not both of you. Besides, I look good in red.”

Not waiting for a response to her laconic quip, Mickayla moved off around the Reaver until she was as close to the wall as she could get without exposing herself.

“This is insane. What the hell was Moby thinking?” Mickayla wondered to herself as she waited. “Then again, maybe Laurel had time to ask him for my sword. Only one way to find out,” she thought as she stepped around the Reaver with her phaser pistols at the ready.

[Lieutenant JG Gideon Drake | Port Auxiliary Bay | The Versant ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Stegro88
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Big-and-Ugly was tougher than he looked. Bloody Scion. And the alarm summoned six more of the Little Uglies like the git who experimented on him, his boss, and Mickayla.

So much for the element of surprise.

But then, it was becoming increasingly inevitable to improvise. That's why Gideon liked card games like poker. The odds were unpredictable at times, but this meant he'd be prepared for the unexpected.

But he didn't expect the landing gears to be hit. He managed to make it in time before the Reaver collapsed. He stayed by Dev's side; he decided it was better to cover her. Following her to a side of the Reaver, he stopped and took a good look with her now that it had collapsed.

There's no denying it's in good condition but the bloody thing was in for some rough landings.

"Three more cables, right there!"

Dev gestured before she climbed on the wing. Gideon followed her gaze. Time to finish the job.

"Where's the Scion?" she called over the noise of the fire-fight.

Gideon whirled around. Indeed, Big-and-Ugly was gone. How in the actual arse did they lose something so freaking huge and ugly?

He shrugged. He's going to finish the job of freeing the Reaver, covering Dev in the process, and then keep an eye out for Big-and-Ugly.

He saw Mickayla approaching and smiled at amusement at being called "sir." Mickayla may be older than he was, but it sometimes amused him to think he outranked her, but he never pulled rank on her at all. And it wasn't just that Gideon knew of Mickayla's temper.

"People who abused their authority always pull rank against underlings, age notwithstanding. Never try it. Never forget it, Gavroche."

He took Michael Eddington's words to heart ever since. In fact, he valued Eddington's wisdom time and again. Gideon smiled at those words. Eddington always called Gideon "Gavroche," after the child operative in Les Miserables, one of Eddington's favorites. Granted, Gavroche had a tragic ending; Gideon also read that book, and he was determined not to share the unfortunate child's fate, however fictional he was.

"They spotted Laurel's sniper perch. I'm going to go check on her," Mickayla briefed. "I'd recommend you stay here ma'am where Lieutenant Drake can cover you. We cannot afford to lose either pilot and damn sure not both of you. Besides, I look good in red."

Gideon paled. He hoped Laurel's okay. But it was better that he cover Dev than go charging out to Laurel's rescue like some knight in shining armor. Not only would both sisters chew him out for doing it, but Eddington would be turning in his grave; charging blindly wasn't how the Maquis worked.

He momentarily smiled to hear Mickayla looked good in red. It only depended where she would go. A good day for a tactical officer was boring, but Gideon didn't mind. He knew torpedoes and phasers well enough, if better than rifles and pistols, but worked fine with rifles and pistols.

He set to work at once to cut the last of the cables, slicing all four of them away from the Reaver in one burst, and...four?

He realized that what he assumed was a fourth set of cables was really a leg, and he had charged his rifle in too high a setting. They sliced through the cables in one shot, and simultaneously severed a leg in the process. Gideon looked up, grinning half a smile of triumph and half a grimace.

He found the Scion.

"Dev!" he shouted up above him. "Big-and-Ugly on your ten o'clock!"

---

OOC: The bit about the Reaver likely in for some rough landings is a nod to a comic from Calvin and Hobbes I thought of when I read about when the Reaver gets its landing gears cut off. Note the last panel.
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[ Devyrie "Dragon" Okhala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Devyrie_Okhala,_callsign_%27%27Dragon%27%27) | Port Auxillary Bay | The Versant ] Attn: @Stegro88 @Multificionado  
[Show/Hide]As Devyrie fired consecutively against the newly arrived Antes, the phaser beams from her rifle reflected against the enamel of her teeth, along with her gleaming suit and white dreadlocks. She fired whilst stepping across the topside of the Reaver - her footing sure but the fuselage hard to tread upon.

The Reaver consisted of four nacelles, an overgrown impulse engine assembly and an armoured cockpit which didn't even have a glass canopy. The problem was the negative space between the nacelles, which forced Dev to make leaps across them - catching her balance on the other side - so that she might get a better vantage point. She managed to hit a couple of the Antes, but not before they spotted Laurel's sniper position... up there behind the opening in the bulkhead. No...

Try as she might, Devyrie couldn't stop the Savi from riddling Laurel's hiding place with graviton beams. They tore the opening and the bulkhead apart with poison-green energy, and Devyrie cried out. "No!"

Emerald eyes wide, she paused her firing, her mind reeling from what she saw. Laurel... She felt like she'd been disconnected from reality, seeing images from Alpha Centauri. How they had played as children, and how their father Aurum had trained them, made them compete with each other. Even as she relived those memories, Aurum's words pierced the shock that had ceased her. Always keep moving, Devyrie.

But Father, Lau... She...

Keep moving!

Blinking, Devyrie found herself on top of the Reaver still, and a couple of graviton beams missed her by the breadth of a hand. Snarling, she bared her teeth, set her rifle to kill, and raised it against the Antes that had likely killed her sister. Searing orange phaser beams smote the distance, chasing the figures in the darkness, and she screamed at them - eyes wild. Had she been more focused, she would have killed them... yet they managed to get out of her sights, or get stunned by the NCOs.

That was when she heard Gideon Drake's call, about the Scion, and she rounded on the man with something primal in her gaze. Before her braids had settled around her shoulders, she both heard and saw the shadow at the edge of the Reaver's wing. It was hurt, chattering something in that alien tongue - mandibles clicking in a way that made her pale skin crawl. Belatedly, Dev realised it was calling for more reinforcements. Even if she'd understood, she didn't acknowledge it. She straddled the gap between two nacelles, one foot on each, and opened fire against the injured Scion.

"Kill it!" she cried, hoping she'd get fire support from those close enough. For even as she hit it, it seemed like it had some kind of forcefield protection around it's centre mass. She scored several hits, even if it used the fuselage for cover. Like an overgrown centipede, it clicked and clattered it's way underneath the Reaver, the shape of the fighter allowing for hiding places. The damn darkness wasn't helping either, since it was almost impossible to see where it was underneath the four parallel nacelles. Quickly, she realised that if they didn't kill it soon, it would be able to pull her and Drake down there, and they'd have no way to defend themselves - just feeling those mandibles or claw-hands tearing them to death.

It was simply a matter of who was fast enough. The idea was already in her head, and she had to assume it was smart enough to know it too. It was ironic, how she was literally standing on top of the means to get out of the Versant, and the bug that had to die for it was just below it. "Drake! I need to drop down below! I can neither see it nor hit it when I'm up here. Call Moby, tell him to stand by and open the damn cockpit!"

Said and done, Devyrie stilled her rampant heart, and jumped down between two nacelles - only the light from her phaser rifle to help her see and shoot the Scion. If Laurel was gone... she was willing to gamble with her life, in hope she did the right thing.

Meanwhile, more Antes were appearing around the Reaver, pushing the Starfleet officers back towards the black space frame, and the NCOs were dying one by one.

---

OOC: @Stegro88 goes first again, and it's time to have them get closer to that cockpit. Feel free to illustrate how the last remaining three NCOs die in your posts. I will reply with both Moby and Devyrie in my next post. :)

[ PO1 Mickayla MacGregor | Port Auxiliary Bay | Precept-ship Versant ]
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Mickayla’s advance around the Reaver was quickly ended by the arrival of another group of 4 Antes via transporter. Never giving them the chance to join the combat, Mickayla raised both of her phasers and quickly stunned the quartet of unsuspecting Savi before they even had a chance to disperse from where they appeared. Yet the Petty Officer was not idle as she scanned for any further obstacles between herself and the wall.

Getting to the wall was only the first obstacle, the second was gaining purchase on the vent that they had exited through. She was pretty sure that with a running start and her now fully Klingon form, that she could jump high enough to reach it. But it would leave her very exposed to being shot at. She’d have to scamper up as if the fangs of the Cù-Sith were nipping at her heels.

“Kill it!” came the sound of Dev’s voice through the hanger and Mickayla looked up in time to see the pilot firing at the Savi Scion, Bithal was the name Moby had supplied, even as the Scion used some form of energy shield to protect himself as he duck down and away under the Reaver. Torn between checking on Laurel of assisting Dev, who was turned away speaking to Drake, Mickayla made a choice, switched her phasers to kill and turned back towards the front of the Reaver. As she approached it, she could do nothing but watch as Dev disappeared down between the nacelles as the rear of the warp fighter.

“Damn,” Mickayla uttered to herself, taking a moment to gather her wits before she turned enter the space under the Reaver. Theoretically, the Scion would be trapped between herself, Dev and the nacelles on either side of it. And between them, the two should be able to overwhelm whatever kind of protective shield he had. Ready, Mickayla raised her phasers and closed the trap.
Instead of a captive alien though, Mickayla came face to face with a cornered animal that was hellbent on survival. Even as she began to fire at it, her shots impacting the shield and causing it to flare into view, the Scion chittered and charged at her. Mickayla kept firing and either one of her shots got through the shield or maybe it was one from Dev behind him but the Scion Bithal roared in a way that Mickayla would describe as painful before shoulder charging her out of the way.

Pain flared up in her abdomen as Mickayla sailed through the air before impacting the hard deck. Her phaser pistols clattered the deck beside what the Klingon identified as the stock of her phaser rifle as Mickayla groaned in pain.

“Shit!” Mickayla moaned as she looked back at the fighter. And what she saw caused her heart to hammer in her chest. Antes were transporting in even as the Scion approached stalked towards Drake. Not knowing if the Lieutenant had seen him or not, Mickayla reacted.

“DRAKE! BEHIND YOU!” she shouted as she snatched up her pistols, switched them back to stun and began to aim at the arriving Antes.

She wouldn’t realise it until later but Bithal had come a hair’s breadth from eviscerating her and only her completely Klingon biology allowed her to survive, let alone continue to fight effectively.

---

Cù-Sith - Essentially A Scottish Hellhound. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/C%C3%B9_S%C3%ACth)

OOC - I did not write the deaths of the two remaining NPCs on the far side of the Reaver as I doubt Mickayla could see them. Dev or Drake would have a better vantage point. Also, I envisioned the fighter's nose being towards the wall and Laurel. Hopefully that is correct.

[Lieutenant JG Gideon Drake | Port Auxiliary Bay | The Versant ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Stegro88
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"Drake! I need to drop down below! I can neither see it nor hit it when I'm up here. Call Moby, tell him to stand by and open the damn cockpit!"

“Roger, Dev,” said Gideon with a smile, giving the acknowledgement in pilot lingo. This could only mean Big-and-Ugly was close to biting the dust.

Taking as much cover as he could find on the top, Gideon typed a message to “Moby.”

BITHAL’S DEMISE IS IMMINENT. STANDBY TO OPEN THE COCKPIT.

No sooner had he sent the message he heard Mickayla shout a warning to him.

"DRAKE! BEHIND YOU!"

Gideon whirled around to see Big-and-Ugly reaching a hand back for a backhand. Gideon cringed. He didn’t know whether he was destined for the Pearly Gates or the Celestial Temple, but either way, he never got hit. One of the NCOs shoved Gideon out of the way. Gideon had a mere nanosecond to recognize him as one of his chums in the Tactical department before Big-and-Ugly’s backhand smote the poor bugger’s head clean off. Gideon ducked to avoid the head flying off, turned to see where it went, then turned back to see Big-and-Ugly making a fist, ready to pound Gideon’s sorry arse into the ground.

The fist never hit him. Primarily because Gideon let off a series of shots. High-powered shots. They pounded into the weakening shields and blasted Big-and-Ugly’s hand, arm, and shoulder clean off. He was pretty sure he blew a whole quarter of a torso off Big-and-Ugly. Turning, he could see Mickayla was subduing some more recently arrived little uglies.

“Thanks, Mickayla,” he called. “I owe you one!”

Turning his attention back to Big-and-Ugly, he kept on the barrage. The shields were weakening, and the Scion’s demise was close.

“Dev,” he called. “The message is away! Hopefully Moby will stand by! Time to finish off Big-and-Ugly once and for all!”

He kept on pounding and pounding the shields. He was surprised at the frenzy boiling inside him; it didn’t matter if the traces of his Bajoran genetics were gone. There was still the fervor, zeal and frenzy of a Bajoran in him. It helped him survive Cardassian raids and the Jem’Hadar onslaught. It certainly was helping him now. Even the rage he felt that the poor NCOs meeting a gruesome demise helped him.

He couldn’t help but feel disappointment that the covert operation had become so overt. Suddenly it had turned into a cross between a hunt and the hunted animal was a cornered dragon. He made a mental note to, if he ever got out alive, if he had the chance on the next starship he got on, he was going to practice in the holodeck hunting. Stealth hunting. That way, he’ll be better prepared for a situation like this. It was often a habit of his, to prepare for what he previously wouldn't be prepared for.

[ Devyrie "Dragon" Okhala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Devyrie_Okhala,_callsign_%27%27Dragon%27%27) | Port Auxillary Bay | The Versant ] Attn: @Stegro88 @Multificionado 
[Show/Hide]Fighting and subsequently fleeing from the Scion in the darkness below the Reaver was't something Devyrie cared to do again. All she had done was to diminish that forcefield that protected it, pelting it with phaser beams from her rifle in the close confines of below the fuselage. The darkness had flashed to life with each beam, showing the Reaver getting closer to her, until she had to leap up, grab the edge of a nacelle, and heave herself up again. By the skin of her teeth, she had avoided the lash of claws, ending up lying on her back. She had expected the Scion to climb after her, but it never appeared. She could hear it still, likely fighting one of the others. Had Mickayla ventured into the darkness below the warp fighter as well?

Shaking, she kept her rifle aimed at the gap next to her, while she slowly got on her feet again. Confident that the noise of the Scion wasn't directly below her, she raised her eyes, seeing how the NCOs were dying one by one. She couldn't help but look at the opening in the bulkhead, where Laurel had been, hoping to see a sign of life. Instead, she could see something running down the metal wall, dripping from the shredded opening. It would be naive of her to think it was some kind of oil, that a pipe in the bulkhead had burst. She covered her mouth, knowing that it was Laurel's blood running down the wall. Oh, Lau...

Keep moving, came the voice of her father Auram, as if her sister's death meant nothing. She felt completely hollowed out inside, and yet she knew father was right. If she gave in to her feelings now, she would die as well. On your feet. Save your tears from when the pain is far behind. Just keep moving, Devyrie. Keep moving.

Baring her teeth, Dev tore her eyes away from the hole in the bulkhead, and just in time to hear Mickayla's shout, and seeing the last of the NCOs die at the hands of the Scion. Something primal came over her, witnessing how Gideon Drake began to pick Bithal apart with his consecutive phaser fire. She glanced about to see the Antes advancing towards the Reaver from three sides, and yet Mickayla was holding them all off, buying them precious time. Turning her emerald green eyes back to the Scion, she let out a cry and smote the Scion's forcefield and body with phaser bolts.

Together with Drake, she stripped the Scion of its chitin armour, bit by bit, while trying to stay out of it's reach. Devyrie jumped and climbed across the top of the Reaver while wearing down the Savi creature they fought, In the end, they managed to sever the head from the body, and the massive bulk of their enemy collapsed at long last, falling down between two of the nacelles - swallowed by the darkness. Heart beating loudly in her ears, Devyrie hardly believed how she was still alive - sweat beading her brow and making the inside of her suit wet.

There was a whirring noise coming from somewhere, and he looked at the tablet - seeing Moby's message.

TERMINATION OF LIFE-SIGN CONFIRMED. PROJECT ACCESS HAS BEEN PASSED TO ME. COCKPIT OPENING NOW. I SUGGEST YOU ESCAPE THROUGH THE BAY DOORS SINCE YOUR TEAM HAS NO SECONDARY ESCAPE ROUTE. YOUR BEST CHANCE TO SURVIVE IS TO GET AS FAR AWAY AS YOU CAN FROM THE VERSANT.

I HAVE DISRUPTED COMMUNICATIONS FOR THE INITIATOR FIGHTERS. IT IS ALL I CAN DO FOR YOU. I MUST CLOSE THIS LINE OF COMMUNICATION TO PREVENT IT FROM BEING TRACKED TO ME FROM THE REAVER. YOUR TABLETS WILL BE PURGED AND DEACTIVATED. MY APOLOGIES FOR THE INCONVENIENCE.

Furious at the way they had just been cut out of the loop, expected to fend for themselves, Devyrie did confirm that the armoured cockpit was indeed opening, before she shouted to Mickayla. "Petty Officer, get into the Reaver, now! We're leaving!" Heart racing, she looked towards Drake next. "Give Mickayla some cover fire, I must power this thing up!"

And figure out how to get it off the deck...

---

OOC: @Stegro88 goes first again!. :) During your posts, the Reaver can power up. End your posts with them escaping the Ante firing squads and getting inside the cramped cockpit. They should have room on either side of the seat Devyrie is in.

[ PO1 Mickayla MacGregor | Port Auxiliary Bay | Precept-ship Versant ]
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Mickayla was a tornado incarnate as she engaged the Antes that were slowly surrounding the Reaver. She had started from where she had landed after the Scion had thrown her and swept her way around to the other end of the Reaver. Now, from her position near nacelles of the warp fighter, she used the two phaser pistols in her possession to hold off a veritable swarm of hostile Savi; her broken, and unused, rifle discarded along the way.

“I hope those two hurry up and kill that thing or this is going to end very badly for me,” Mickayla thought to herself as she rolled to the side and fired off another pair of shots to stun two more Antes. Her wounded abdomen attempted to complain once more at the continued abuse that it was suffering from her movements but she slammed up a wall in her mind between the wave of pain and herself. She couldn’t deal with it now or everything would be lost.

The phaserfire from behind her stopped and a part of Mickayla hoped that it was because the Scion had won because it would mean her death very soon. A departure from all the bigger issues in her current life. But the part of her that was a loyal Starfleet officer rose up and quashed those thoughts and instead hoped for the demise of the Scion instead.

A fresh group of Antes appeared on the fighter’s starboard side and Mickayla swung around to that side of the craft to deal with them. A volley of stun bolts later and the group of 4 was reduced to 1, and he was retreated. Taking a moment to check her weapons, Mickayla noted that she was down to maybe a dozen shots in each. “Stuns shots don’t use as much power but I have been firing a lot of them,” Mickayla noted to herself. Behind her, the armoured cockpit of the fighter began to open and she couldn’t help but let out a silent cheer. “Yay, the Scion is dead. Now to figure out how to fly that thing.”

"Petty Officer, get into the Reaver, now! We're leaving!" Dev called from behind Mickayla. Firing off another pair of shots at the retreating Ante to make sure he kept going, the Klingon spared a moment to look back at the Reaver and saw female officer dropping into the pilot’s seat of the fighter.

“I hope she knows how to fly that thing,” said to herself as she began to back up towards the craft that was even now, beginning to come to life. Ducking a shot from the rear of the fighter, Mickayla sent a shot back at her attacker before turning and vaulting up onto the side of the fighter. With a final volley of shots at the Antes she could see, Mickayla slid down into the armoured cockpit next to the human female at the controls. The cramped nature pressed their bodies together in quite the intimate fashion but thankfully her mind stayed focused.

“Reporting as ordered ma’am,” Mickayla said as she wriggled a little to get as comfortable as she could. “Sorry about the blood.”

[Lieutenant JG Gideon Drake | Port Auxiliary Bay | The Versant ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Stegro88
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Gideon just kept on firing and firing on Big-and-Ugly. And he kept on at it even when he saw a second set of phaser fire pelting the ugly bugger and turned to see Dev laying down fire. He smiled but kept on at it.

They kept firing…and firing…until at last, they blew Big-and-Ugly’s head clean off. Gideon was sure he and Dev contributed in the last shot that finished Big-and-Ugly; The decapitated head would virtually have flown another half a kilometer if there wasn’t a wall in the way.

Gideon breathed in relief. That was certainly something he was never going to forget.

When Dev proclaimed the latest news, of leaving, Gideon’s heart would’ve easily blown out of his chest in joy; he was just smiling widely. The cockpit was opening. They were leaving.

"Give Mickayla some cover fire, I must power this thing up!"

“You got it, Dev!” he said, and kept pelting stun bolts at the little uglies. He made sure Mickayla went ahead while he kept up fire. As he did, he looked at the spot where Laurel’s sniper position. Somehow, he knew…somehow…it was like when he lost some of his friends to Cardassian executioners, and later to Jem’Hadar legions when he fled Tracken II. Laurel was one additional more.

“I’m sorry, Laurel,” he said quietly, downing little uglies a shot at a time. “We…could’ve been so much more. To love another person is to see the face of God. I will miss you. Goodbye, Laurel.”

Well, it would be something Michael Eddington would say to eulogize for a fallen comrade, to include those fitting words from his favorite book.

And with that, swelling up inside, trying to keep back the tears, Gideon made a beeline for the cockpit and then squeezed into the cockpit with the two women. With Mickayla squeezed on one side of Dev, Gideon squeezed on the other. They were certainly cramped, but for some reason, feeling Dev against him gave Gideon some comfort. Of course, he had sense to not bother anybody at any helm with unnecessary details.

He heard Mickayla as he got in and smiled.

“Don’t worry about it, you did great, Mickayla,” he said. “Dev, might I suggest we record the coordinates of this ship as we depart? If it’s just us getting out, we have to remember this ship’s location, or its last known position. Whatever friendly ship we find, even if it’s Federation, we have to notify them of where it is, so we can fetch the rest of our friends and fellow captives, unless Moby has something in mind on that subject.

“And, of course, with the landing gear gone…well, I don’t deny you can get us airborne, but we may be in for a rough landing.”

[ Devyrie "Dragon" Okhala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Devyrie_Okhala,_callsign_%27%27Dragon%27%27) | Cinsaj's Cockpit | AC-507 Mk I Reaver (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=AC-507_Mk_I_Reaver) | Port Auxiliary Bay | The Versant ] Attn: @Stegro88 @Multificionado 
[Show/Hide]Once inside the cockpit, Devyrie fought off the memory of that blood running down the bulkhead in the darkness, illuminated by flashing phaser fire and the vitriol green of the graviton weapons. She couldn't afford to think and Laurel, not even to hope she was still alive, and that she - somehow - might still make it off the nightmare ship.

"Keep moving... Keep moving," she told her self under her breath, trying to focus on the cockpit interior. This was supposed to be a Starfleet craft, only warped by whatever future development that the parasites had in store for their current reality. Thinking along those lines, she found the ignition. She twisted it...

...but nothing happened.

"Oh, give me a bloody break, will you?" she said and swore as they might on Alpha Centauri, whipping her head and hair about in a frantic fault-search in the cockpit. It took her a few second before she realised that there were two ignition relays, and once she saw that, she reached down with both hands and twisted. And like that, the Cinsaj finally roared to life. "Yes!"

The reports she'd read on the Theurgy told a tale about a civilian Boslic that had been murdered by a Harbinger mutineer, who had been working on restoring this very craft. Covington - the Chief of the Deck on the Theurgy - had named the Reaver Cinsaj in her honour, and it was her research that had made the craft space worthy again, Covington following her specifications in the repairs. Devyrie had no way of knowing what the Savi might have done to it in the past couple of days, and it was not like she would be able to tell any difference. She just had to get the thing off the deck!

"Thrusters, thrusters..." she murmured, grateful that Cinsaj and Covington had installed a trafitional LCARS interface in the Reaver, making it easy enough to find the 'RCS' command, and it gave her the elevation command once she tapped it. She did, and the whole craft lurched off the deck plating - the ventral guidance thrusters making the Cinsaj gain altitude. This was when she realised that there was no flight stick...

...but two arm-contraptions, into which she gingerly slipped her arms - a frown on her face. The suspended, metallic sleeves had buttons at the ends of the gloves, and a thumb relay marked with 'Guidance' across it. "Interesting," she murmured, at which point her two companions dropped into the cockpit to join her. Thankfully, she'd kept the elevation steady enough to prevent them to fall off the hull before they reached the cockpit. Drake and Mickayla seemed relieved enough to be inside the armoured protection of the cockpit, but Devyrie couldn't see shit through the front of the fighter. Whatever Drake was talking, and talking, and talking about, there was no time to listen.

"There must be a helmet in here!" she said, overriding the noise of the engines and the graviton beams that scorched lines into the Cinsaj. "Find it, because I need it to see through the hull!"

She cast her green eyes about, and spotted it behind Mickayla. "There, put it on me, hurry! You're on sensor duty after that, okay? Let me know what's going on out there," she said, then looked towards Drake. "Collect coordinates as you will, but I need to know what this thing is armed with, okay? Check the armament status and let me know what I have to work with!"

Hovering blindly in the Aerodrome of the Versant, Devyrie reached forward to tap at the controls without pressing down the thumb relay, and finally found the shields. "Shields online! But... why does it say T-P next to them?"

Unbeknownst to the three of them, the outer hull of the Cinsaj flared to life, the transpacific shields protecting them from the dozens of Antes that were firing against the Reaver.

---

OOC: @Stegro88 goes first again, helmet and sensors being the task on hand. @Multificionado , check the link in the header of my post, and you can see the harpoint options below. I need a weapon config in your post, i.e. what the Cinsaj is armed with. Have fun! :)

[ PO1 Mickayla MacGregor | Cinsaj's Cockpit | AC-507 Mk I Reaver | Port Auxiliary Bay | Precept-ship Versant ]
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At Dev’s direction, Mickayla looked over her shoulder where the pilot had directed and saw the helmet that was apparently needed to fly the warp fighter. Having next to no experience in the practicalities of the profession, the Security Officer merely did as she was told and moved to grasp the item in question.

Reaching proved an interesting process as Mickayla had to kind of roll her body over, which while painful, also caused her to basically end up spooned against the pilot. Grabbing hold of the helmet, Mickayla rolled herself back around end up spooned against Dev the other way.

“Sorry if this hurts,” Mickayla apologised before reaching up with one hand and trying to gather the human’s dreadlocks together at the back of her head. As she held them in place with one hand, Mickayla placed the helmet as gently as she could over Dev’s head and lowered it into place. “There we go ma’am.”

With the first of her two tasks completed, Mickayla shifted around again to try and access the craft’s sensors. And it was not an easy task given the cramped nature of the fighter, the pain from the movements that Mickayla had just had to make and her general unfamiliarity with perform the task in general.

“I’m a security officer, not the bloody science one,” Mickayla riled silently as she worked the LCARS panel to get what she needed.

“Aright,” Mickayla finally said after working at the panel. “I have almost 50 Savi in the bay with us. Most of them firing at us. I can’t figure out how to read anything else within the ship,” Mickayla stated as she punched another few buttons. “The ship itself seems to be drifting within the nebula, don't ask me where though cause I don't know. And it has perhaps a dozen small craft in various positions around it. I’m guessing some kind of Combat Air Patrol.”

[ Lieutenant JG Gideon Drake | Cinsaj's Cockpit | AC-507 Mk I Reaver | Port Auxiliary Bay | The Versant ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Stegro88
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Gideon smiled. It was good to be back in his element, in a tactical position...of sorts.

He didn't mind the cramped space. In fact, he had a feeling the Reaver would give the average Maquis Raider a run for its money.

The more he studied the Reaver's weapons compliment, however, the more astounded he was.

"Okay, the weapons compliment, as much as I can determine, Dev," he said, "is that...well, suffice it to say, we got so much teeth I think we could take on a Romulan flagship without breaking a sweat.

"This ship's armed with Type XVI Pulse Fire Phaser Cannons and Type X Phaser Arrays, one forward and one aft...which is just incredible to me.

"As for the ordinance...fifty-six micro quantum torpedoes, two tri-cobalt warheads, a few Barghest Cluster Bombs, and four transphasic torpedoes...I think that's what T-P stands for," he added, having heard Dev wondering the initials aloud.

"Transphasic...and...shite, transphasic shields, and there are fifty little uglies out there right now?" he said, hearing Mickayla's estimates. "There's enough crap squeezed in here to arm and protect a starship ten times as big as this baby," he added with a smile. "Where in the nebula doesn't matter; it's our current coordinates that will matter if we bring back help, and it should still be there if it's drifting. It'll likely be going at a slower pace.

“I do recommend caution, Dev,” he added seriously. “It takes more than just firepower. The sword is only as good as the one who wields it. If you haven’t flown this before, you need to be careful; even the best pilot could screw up in a situation like this.

"All weapon systems are operational, Dev," he said, after checking. "I think we may be likely to raise hell against this ship, then again, the other abductees are still aboard, and Moby's given us a way out. You're the boss, in any case, Dev."

[ Devyrie "Dragon" Okhala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Devyrie_Okhala,_callsign_%27%27Dragon%27%27) | Cinsaj's Cockpit | AC-507 Mk I Reaver (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=AC-507_Mk_I_Reaver) | Port Auxiliary Bay | The Versant ] Attn: @Stegro88 @Multificionado 
[Show/Hide]Once she had her helmet on, Devyrie searched for the activation button with trembling fingers - eventually finding it beneath the helmet's left side. While she did so, she listened to the two officers together with her in the cramped cockpit, knowing very well how there was no means in which she could secure them for any eventual g-forces that the cockpit might be subjected to. She just hoped the Savi hadn't done anything to the inertial dampeners...

Thankfully, the helmet automatically tuned into the Cinsaj's systems, and she could activate the TVD by the time Gideon Drake had finished talking about the findings. She didn't even have time to be impressed with the kind of payload that the fighter carried. There was a strange chirping warning her about the T-P shields - the transphasic ones - and she could but guess that their power was either running out, or the fifty Savi out there firing at them were actually wearing them down. The reached for the computer command, finding it deactivated up until that point.

[Warning: Transphasic shield energy depletion imminent,] said Thea's voice, which was startling, until she realised that when the repairs to the Cinsaj was made, and the LCARS system was installed, it must have been fitted with the Theurgy A.I:s voice files. In any case, they had to scram.

"All right, brace yourselves!" she said, and making an educated guess as to the manoeuvring controls she'd fitted her arms into - hoping for the best - she jammed her thumb down on the GUIDANCE relay at her thumb, and began to move her arms. "Woah!"

[Warning: Collision imminent.]

She realised that the Reaver was entirely controlled by the sleeves she wore, as the Cinsaj suddenly careened straight towards the far bulkhead of the bay - sending Savi shooters fleeing for their lives. In the last moment, acting completely intuitively, she managed to turn the Reaver into a sideways barrel roll, thankfully without loosing any altitude and just scraping the deck at two times. The inertial dampeners were online, but even that manoeuvre would make the most hardened Wolf pilot get nauseous. With green eyes wide inside her black helmet, she stopped fighting the controls, realising that the design of the control interface she wore was so intuitive that she could rather trust it than try to work against it. As soon as she did, she managed to righten up the fighter and turn it around - course set towards the closing bay doors.

Closing...?

"Shit!" she said, looking around for the throttle. "All right, as big and bad as this bird is, we can't kill the aliens without endangering our friends still aboard, so we need to bail. Hold on to something!"

With her foot, she pushed down unto the elevated pedal she'd found, and the sound of the launch thrusters was deafening. In conjunction with her sleeves, she manoeuvred the Cinsaj towards the closing bay doors, and upon realising that thrusters weren't enough, she switched to impulse while still inside the bay, which she hoped wouldn't kill any Savi that were too close by. Not even the inertial dampeners could compensate for that kind of atmo-acceleration (pressurised as the bay was) and Dev groaned while she was pushed into the back of the pilot seat - the sight of the closing bay doors all she could focus on...

Within the span of two seconds, she had to tilt the Reaver sideways...

...and then they were clear - shooting through the Azure Nebula - with the looming monstrosity of the Versant behind them.

"We're out!" she announced, needlessly so - more like an affirmation to herself since the bay doors had nigh clipped their wings - and then she turned to the Klingon at her side. "Were we spotted?" Panting still, chest rising and falling, she turned her helmet to Drake next. "Arm countermeasures for release, and power up the weapon systems!"

---

OOC: @Stegro88 goes first again, illustrating the number of Initators (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Initiator-class_Interceptor) that break off towards them, led by a black Initator (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Initiator-class_Interceptor). Could be cool if the sensors gave them some info on those Savi fighter crafts too, i.e. weapons etc. @Multificionado , prepare for the fight, but no shooting just yet. :)

[ PO1 Mickayla MacGregor | Cinsaj's Cockpit | AC-507 Mk I Reaver | Space Adjacent Precept-ship Versant ]
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"All right, as big and bad as this bird is, we can't kill the aliens without endangering our friends still aboard, so we need to bail. Hold on to something!" 

It was the second time that Dev had told them to hand onto something. The first time had been just before the fighter had lurched forwards, jamming Mickayla back into the space that her body occupied. It was not a space designed to be occupied by a humanoid body while the craft was in flight and the lack of restraints and even padding only enunciated this fact. 

By the time that Dev had regained control of the craft, Mickayla had discovered that she was bleeding again from her abdomen. Unable to do anything about it in the confines of the cockpit, the petty officer kept one hand pressed into her wound to try and stem the flow while the other worked at stabilising herself. This had prepared her for the second time she was told to hang on and Mickayla braced herself as best she could as the human female piloted the craft out of the bay.

Looking up from where she was positioned, she caught Dev looking at her and heard her question about being spotted. Shifting around slightly, groaning at the pain the movement caused her, Mickayla positioned herself so that she could access the sensors again one-handed.

“We have multiple small-craft on approach. Life-signs match those in the bay except for this one in the lead,” Mickayla announced through gritted teeth as she brought up more details on the closest craft. “It’s similar but the sensors can also tell its different. Could be one of those bug things like the one we just killed,” Mickayla surmised as she zoomed out again. “From what I can tell, each craft has a pair of weapons that the Antes had in the hanger, but bigger versions. I am also detecting signs of some sort of quantum phaser weapon. I’d suggest not getting hit by anything. And....shit!” Mickayla exclaimed as the number of small craft approaching them decreased by half.

“I had 5 fighters on approach to intercept us but now I only have 3. The other two just faded off the screen,” Mickayla described. “The last time I saw that, it was a Klingon Bird-of-Prey activating its cloak.”

[ Lieutenant JG Gideon Drake | Cinsaj's Cockpit | AC-507 Mk I Reaver | Port Auxiliary Bay | The Versant ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Stegro88
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Despite the cramped conditions, Gideon couldn't help but smile in their flight of escape. He was feeling like he was back on a Maquis Raider. And some of those raiders can often be as cramped as how he was feeling now.

His feeling of elation was accelerated at the sight of being free from all the uglies on the Versant. The Azure Nebula never looked better.

His feeling of elation didn't last long, however, once Mickayla announced who was coming.

Heeding Dev's orders to power up the weapons, Gideon worked as much as he could. It took him a while to figure out what was what, where the countermeasures were, and vice versa with the weapons, but he succeeded in getting them online.

He couldn't help but feel like a Rear Intercept Officer he heard about, common among Tactical Conn positions. He felt like the times he spent on Maquis Raiders picking out accurate targets, not that he minded picking out targets while going at fast speeds, and it was no different from what he was doing now, save he was preparing against intercepting fighters that were just as ugly as the buggers who operated them were.

He generally preferred manning a ship's guns as opposed to a fighter's, which was another reason why he chose to be a Tactical Officer, but he never minded making do in smaller craft, especially in something where there are bound to be so many fatal risks to one's life. But he felt there were worse things than dying in the vacuum of space. Much worse.

"Weapons systems and countermeasures ready, Dev," he said. "Awaiting your orders."

[ Devyrie "Dragon" Okhala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Devyrie_Okhala,_callsign_%27%27Dragon%27%27) | Cinsaj's Cockpit | AC-507 Mk I Reaver (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=AC-507_Mk_I_Reaver) | Port Auxiliary Bay | The Versant ] Attn: @Stegro88 @Multificionado 
[Show/Hide]While Devyrie had no reason to doubt the Reaver in regard to its deadliness, she had never flown one before - the only reason that they were outside the Versant being that the controls were so intuitive. She could just have easily have crashed it into the bulkhead or torn is apart while passing through the closing bay doors. It was only sheer luck that they had managed to get out at all.

Now, Mickayla was telling her that there were alien fighters inbound, and two of them cloaked, leaving her outnumbered one to five, and still well within weapons range of the Versant. Come to think about it, why hasn't the nightmare ship opened fire on us yet? Is it because of the Savi asset of ours? Or do they want to keep this fighter intact for some experiment? I'll consider it a small blessing in any case, she thought to herself, suppressing the image of the blood on the bulkhead from her mind.

"Since that monstrosity behind us might open fire any moment, we'can't stay," she said, checking the sensors herself. "There's defence turrets on every angle of that ship, and we don't have the cockpit space to bring 57 other abductees..."

Her green eyes drifted to the approaching three Savi fighters, the cloaked ones gone, and it seemed like they had no choice. "We leave the Versant's weapons envelope, and try to find the Theurgy, somewhere out there in the Nebula." Setting to it, Devyrie set a preliminary course, and powered up the warp coils. "Some of the abducted said a Continuance Protocol was executed three days ago, and this could be a clue to how we find reinforcements. First things first, though..."

It took her a couple of seconds, in which the three Savi fighters began to fire towards them, before she figured out how to jump to warp. In the last moment, before one of those green graviton beams hit them... they were off. The nebula elongated in the view of her helmet, and through the TVD, she experienced how the Cinsaj left the Versant and its fighters behind. Realising that her companions in the cockpit couldn't tell any real difference besides what the sensors said, she sent the feed from her helmet to one of the HUDs on the Reaver's dashboard, needing only to toggle the view on that screen.

"We're off, but they are giving chase," she said, and pushed the Reaver to go faster. "Warp six... seven... eight? How fast can this thing go?" Incredulous, since the Valravn was considered to be the fasted small craft that Starfleet had, she checked on the Savi fighters, and they were still pursuing them, slowly catching up - a black fighter in the lead. Her browridge lowered over her emerald eyes. "That's the Scion, right? If we destroy that one, perhaps it might deter the others."

Looking at her glove, she saw the thumb-print for the aft phaser array, and pressed it hard. The helmet had eye-tracking, so when she looked at the black Initator fighter, the beams went for it. She tried to hit the pursuing shadow several times, just giving it glancing hits, and she was answered in kind. The Reaver's shields were online, but the ones named TP wouldn't activate again, likely needing to be recharged. The hits they took almost made them drop out of warp, the field nigh collapsing, until Devyrie decided to decelerate. "Brace yourselves..."

Dropping to warp seven, confident they were not going to collide with any Savi, the sensors soon realigned themselves and revealed that they had ended up behind their pursuers. "This is for Lau," she hissed quietly, and then fired off a "transphasic" torpedo against the leader. She then switched to quantum micro torpedoes and fired away at the white fighters just to deter them. It would have gone smoothly... if it hadn't been for the two cloaked fighters, that suddenly appeared behind her again.

"Shit," she said, even as the black fighter at the front of the formation exploded, and then vanished, since it's warp field was compromised. They were taking hits from graviton beams and quantum phasers alike. "Does anyone mind if we try to just outrun them instead?"

---

OOC: @Stegro88 goes first again, and I figure that this would be a good time to illustrate any regrets or argumentation about leaving the other abductees behind. Remember that neither Mickayla nor Drake knows the Theurgy's real mission, right? Moreover, this situation would be ideal to spot how the the rear exhausts of the Initiators are identical to the Reaver's, which suggests Savi involvement when the future (Infested) Starfleet built the Reavers. Paradox? Yes indeed. :)

[ PO1 Mickayla MacGregor | Cinsaj's Cockpit | AC-507 Mk I Reaver | Port Auxiliary Bay | Precept-ship Versant ]
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At Dev’s words describing the situation and their inability to return to the Versant for the others, Mickayla found herself torn. 

“I want to stay,” she thought to herself. “Even if I won’t even admit to myself whether it is to help the others or just for the chance to kill that bastard Agrand.”

“But I also never want to see that ship again, inside or out,” she concluded. “I’ve experienced nothing but misery, or worse, since it found me.”

“But what of Cross, Khorin and the others from the Endeavour?” Mickayla wondered, her thoughts turning to her former ship’s crew and the only other person she knew. “What will happen to them? And can I live with leaving them behind?”

“On the other hand, do I really want to be aboard the Theurgy with half of Starfleet hunting me?” Mickayla wondered. “Pragmatically speaking, Dev is right. This ship cannot stay and fight and it’s a tight squeeze with just us in here. Our best chance is to go for help. Even if it is the Theurgy. But I’ll be back. That I promise you Agrand.” And to herself, reinforcements sounded good.

The Reaver’s jump to warp was very smooth and not the least bit disconcerting to Mickayla although she was grateful when Dev put up a vied on one of the screens for herself and Drake. What followed, even after everything else that had happened in the last few days, was strange.

“If this is her fighter, why doesn’t she know how fast it can go?” Mickayla wondered, although she was reminded of how lost the pilot seemed in flying the craft. “And if this isn't hers, where did it come from? It has the looks of a Federation warp fighter, although very advanced. Every other version I have seen hasn’t had top-mounted ordinance.”

Further thought was abandoned at Dev’s command to brace; an act that sent a renewed wave of pain throughout the Klingon’s compact frame. Idly, she wondered how bad her injury was now but dismissed it due to their current inability to do anything about it.

Watching the screen provided, Mickayla was able to bear witness to Dev’s destruction of the black fighter that her sensors had identified as different. She could only hope that whatever made it different was now very dead. But she didn’t have time to gloat as something else gathered her attention.

“Those fighters and this one, if you ignored the obvious Federation tech, could almost be related in a design sense,” Mickayla thought even as she didn’t understand the thought. “This Reaver is almost completely different to the Valkyries that I have seen.”

“Sir, ma’am,” Mickayla addressed her companions. “I’m just a security officer but is it my imagination or do those fighters and this one share a lot of similarities? Top mounted weapons, the rear exhausts are practically identical and you yourself didn’t even know how fast this craft went. So, either I am going crazy from increased blood loss or this ship and those were built by the same people. And if that is true, are we even able to outrun them?”

[ Lieutenant JG Gideon Drake | Cinsaj's Cockpit | AC-507 Mk I Reaver ]  Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Stegro88
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Gideon could understand what Dev had in mind now that they were free. There was certainly no room for the other abductees; they had to find a ship and bring it to the Versant for a rescue. That was why he proposed recording the Versant's coordinates. He managed to recover the coordinates and record them before their little craft went to warp. 

He was somewhat perturbed at the idea of seeking out the Theurgy, hunted by Starfleet as traitors, but he remembered that as a former member of the Maquis, he would've been among those accused of treason against Starfleet, and some of those accusations were somewhat true. 

However, now that they were free, Gideon felt that he didn't care if it was the Theurgy or some other ship they found in the nebula; even a Cardassian flagship would feel welcoming. 

And he wouldn't mind hearing out the perspectives and opinions of the Theurgy’s crew once things settled down. Maybe Dev if there was time to spare. There had to be a reason why they were on the run. Starfleet said it had something to do with the Romulans, but Gideon had an inkling that there was something more; the Maquis do what they do because of their staunch refusal to give up their home worlds to the Cardassians, but strictly not to suck up to them. They were in defiance of the Federation as such. 

He was shook back to reality at the news that they were being chased. He could see that Dev's feed from her helmet was transferred to the dashboards and he set to work. He was amazed at how fast it was. He definitely felt he was back on a Raider...but this fighter seemed to be moving a lot faster. 

He took in the targeting sights. Dev seemed to point out that the black fighter was the leader, a Scion. Well. If there's a Big-And-Ugly inside, it'll be easier to take it out this time. 

Looking at them closely, setting a target, something occurred to Gideon. Was it his imagination, or did the ugly fighters bear a similar semblance to the craft they were in? 

"You got the black one in your sights, Dev," he said. "Let's fry this Big-And-Ugly." 

He braced himself greatly as the Reaver maneuvered. He felt an excellent thrill and let out a cheer as it spun around. He experienced something before; he witnessed a similar maneuver executed by Tom Paris a week before he was captured by Starfleet. And then Dev opened fire and Flyboy Big-And-Ugly was blown into explosive oblivion. 

"Boo-yah!" he said with a cheer. "You got that ugly sucker, Dev! You could give Tom Paris a run for his money." 

But the words barely escaped his lips when the other two fighters had decloaked. He couldn't think how the situation could get any hairier. Then Mickayla pointed out similarities between their craft and the ugly fighters. 

Gideon had to look back at the targeting sensors and took a more thorough look at the uglies. And...whoa. 

Things certainly got hairier. 

"Yeah, sure is," he said, gobsmacked. Then, realizing how much of a loss for words he was, he elaborated. "That is to say, I can confirm what Mickayla is saying. I can see the exhausts. And if they share the same warp capabilities...somehow I had a similar inkling, Mickayla. As they say, 'Great minds think alike.' 

"There's a possibility that we could use the similarities to our advantage," he continued, his spasm of surprise passed. "However, I have a few ideas that come to mind. If these are Antes, I don't know if 'Moby' will like it if we blow them away. We could disable their engines by firing at them. Or if we can detonate a sirilium pocket so it takes them out... we'd have to drop out of warp once we found such a pocket, and then warp away when we 'light the match into the pool of gasoline.' In any case, we cannot kill them unless we have to. They can outrun us and potentially outgun us, but I'm confident we can outsmart them."

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OOC:I thought it fitting for Gideon to say something similar to what Six said in an earlier post: "You could give Tom Paris a run for his money." And not realizing someone else said something similar.

[ Devyrie "Dragon" Okhala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Devyrie_Okhala,_callsign_%27%27Dragon%27%27) | Cinsaj's Cockpit | AC-507 Mk I Reaver (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=AC-507_Mk_I_Reaver) | Port Auxiliary Bay | The Versant ] Attn: @Stegro88 @Multificionado 
[Show/Hide]Thoughts darting between tactical options, the words of her two companions guided hers, caught up as she was doing evasive manoeuvres and keeping the Cinsaj from being hit by the Savi fighters that had decloaked behind them.

"This fighter is from a carrier sent from the future," she said, eyes darting inside the visor of her black helmet, and while she was no scientist, it was pretty logical based on what she knew. "Which means those fighters out there have to have been made first. This Reaver is the product of both Savi and Starfleet engineers. Which... Agh!"

The Reaver rocked from a barrage of fire, making them loose their course, but the warp field remained - if barely. Devyrie got the Cinsaj back under control. Initiating a barrel roll in order to try and outmanoeuvre the Savi fighters. She almost lost her train of thought too, but continued to explain. "That carrier was sent by the Infested, which control Starfleet Command, so that means the Savi and Starfleet Command teamed up, at some point between here and that future. Well, they did, before the Theurgy messed up the current timeline."

They were witnessing a paradox, but all Devyrie could think of was getting out of there.

"So if this fighter is more advanced than these Savi ones," she said, and wrapped her hand around the warp throttle, "we might actually outrun them." It was madness, Devyrie having a hard time to accept that the advanced, finely calibrated four nacelles on the Reaver could do more than Warp 8,2. Baring her teeth, she knew it was only one way to find out. She pushed the throttle forward, and the Cnsaj continued to accelerate. It went past 8.2, which was faster than the Valravn could go. When they were at 9.2, the Savi fighters were still on their tail.

"This is insane!" she hissed into the mouth piece of her helmet, and the HUD soon said 9.3, at which case the Savi were not gaining on them any more. Even still, the warp throttle continued to move. "We're at Warp 9,5!"

And at that rate, the Savi fighters were falling behind, unable to continue pursuit. Devyrie checked the systems to see if there were any warnings, but as far as she could understand what the instruments were telling her... it was smooth sailing through the Azure Nebula. The cerulean space and the shooting stars could only be seen in her helmet and on the HUD on the dashboard, but it was a sight for sore eyes. Slowly, she began to think on the next step, looking towards her companions. The first thing she saw was how Mickayla was hurt, bleeding.

"Drake, cockpits usually have medkits. Find it for Mickayla. What I need from you guys now... is to try and go through the computer and find if there is something called Continuance Protocol stored in it. Also, I need eyes on the sensors."

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OOC: @Stegro88 goes first again, and I figure that the Cinsaj was also fitted with the coordinate-generator for the Continuance Protocol. I figure your two next posts will be the last ones in this thread, and I end it with a final one from Devyrie. :)

[ PO1 Mickayla MacGregor | Cinsaj's Cockpit | AC-507 Mk I Reaver | Azure Nebula ]
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“Medkit, why didn’t I think of that?” Mickayla thought to herself as she shifted herself slightly in the cockpit to try and see if the kit was on her side. “Because you were in a firefight, injured and then squashed into a warp fighter from the future which you are using to escape from aliens that kidnapped and altered your DNA. Why would you think of a medkit?”

Managing to roll on to her side a little bit to see what was beneath her and her heart sank a little at what she found.

“Of course the kit is beneath me. Why would it be anywhere else,” Mickayla muttered silently. Judging by the size of the kit and the available space for her to move around in, trying to get the kit out and opened was going to be practically impossible. “Not that I wouldn’t love a pain killer right about now.”

“Forget about the kit, sir,” Mickayla told the male officer on the other side of the cockpit. “I’m laying on it. I’ll be fine, it’s just a small cut,” Mickayla lied. She was sure that Drake had never seen her get injured by the Scion from his position on top of the Reaver and after that she had faced away from him the whole time. Not to mention it was dark and they were being shot at. Dev might have seen it but Mickayla wasn’t sure. “Just focus on the protocol while I check the sensors.”

Gritting her teeth as she shifted around again, feeling another stab of pain from her abdomen, Mickayla focus on understanding what the sensors were telling her.

“It looks like the Savi fighters are unable to keep up,” Mickayla observed. It was only a few moments later when her assumption was confirmed and the fighters suddenly dropped way behind. “I think they just dropped out of warp. It looks like we are in the clear.”

[ Lieutenant JG Gideon Drake | Cinsaj's Cockpit | AC-507 Mk I Reaver ]  Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Stegro88
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Gideon was relieved to hear Mickayla found the medkit. At least it saved him the trouble of having to feel around for it, and being in a cramped space with two women, at least it saved them from potential embarrassment; he was very sure Dev wouldn’t like the idea of Gideon reaching across her to treat Mickayla.

Gideon looked through the computer for information on the Continuance Protocol.  He nodded gratefully when he heard from Mickayla that the ugly fighters were dropping out of warp. He had a feeling that the technological advances of the Reaver would definitely prove advantageous, but he was also inwardly surprised at how fast it was going from Dev’s words.

“9.5? Could it potentially go faster than that?” he said with astonishment. “Does this thing also have transwarp capabilities, too?”

But all the while, he focused on looking up this Continuance Protocol. It took him a while, but he found it.

From what he can gather, the protocol was implemented by Captain Ives before he – or she – was captured by the Savi. It involved the Theurgy dividing its vectors and going off in different directions, to meet up in three different rendezvous points within a certain time slot, and should they all fail to meet up at all three, they push on without each other.

Looking at it, Gideon wondered how all those vectors could achieve such a rendezvous when each vector has limited warp capabilities…unless the divided cores have been modified. Also, he’d hate to consider it, but supposing the possibility that one of those vectors encountered the Borg in the Azure Nebula, particularly the one that destroyed the Endeavour.

He pushed the thoughts aside and resumed working. Dev will the information as soon as possible.

"There's a coordinate generator for the protocol here, Dev," he said. "Let me know of what you need."

[ Devyrie "Dragon" Okhala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Devyrie_Okhala,_callsign_%27%27Dragon%27%27) | Cinsaj's Cockpit | AC-507 Mk I Reaver (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=AC-507_Mk_I_Reaver) | Azure Nebula | The Versant ] Attn: @Stegro88 @Multificionado 
[Show/Hide]When she heard Mickayla refusing treatment, Devyrie turned her helmet in the Klingon's direction. Her concerned frown may have passed unseen, and the only reason she made no comment was that she'd underestimated Klingons before, and it could quite possibly be Devyrie who had the wrong idea about the bleeding.

The announcement that they were in the clear was quite welcome, even if Devyrie couldn't quite shake the feeling that they were abandoning the other abductees. She maintained course, hardly believing they had actually made it.

They had.

Not Lau.

Devyrie could hope her sister was still alive, and that the shadows had played tricks on her eyes. Perhaps it wasn't blood running down the bulkhead, but some fluid from a severed pipe. Who knew what Savi had running through their ships? Devyrie knew it was stupid, that she should accept how Lau was gone. She'd only met her in person for the first time in years the night before... Stop it! Dev told herself, stern and unforgiving towards herself. Keep moving. Keep moving. You can cry when all of this is far behind.

Drake spoke of the protocol, and Dev hung on to the words like an anchor. She raked her brain about the requirement, and keyed up the protocol in her own display after the man found it. "It wants a Stardate, and origin coordinates," she muttered. She tried to remember the day of her abduction. She'd been in her Valravn. She knew the time, and the coordinates were always on display on the dashboard. She tried to remember... "Stardate... 57549.21. Cooridinates..."

She frowned, until she remembered Fury's voice - her RIO - talking to her, and she remembered checking the numbers while he did so. Remembering him helped her, and she reached out, and typed the numbers into the protocol. "Executing."

The navigation systems lit up three spots in the Azure nebula, and a time index next to them. Devyrie's green eyes darted between them. "First one, missed. Second one too. Third one... Are you bloody kidding me?"

It ended at 0900 hrs.

They had missed it with almost thirty minutes.

- FIN