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Director's Cut / Re: [2374] USS Hamburg: Meditate on the Way of the Targ
Last post by Dumedion -Bolts of polaron energy snapped overhead, while others impacted close enough to shower her in sparks. Kino lay on her side, ass pressed into the small rubble wall of makeshift cover and grunted a curse before lifting her rifle up to fire blind, hoping to suppress the Jems back into cover. Her ears picked up the LT’s arrival, but couldn’t spare a glance just then; not until her pack ran dry. The non-com did note the obvious pain in the woman’s voice, poorly hidden behind humor; a valiant attempt – one Taer appreciated, all things considered.
Might be hope for her yet, the Trill thought with a twitch of her bloody lips while she swapped out her rifle’s power pack; the snort offered in reply only forced her to gag and choke on the blood from her broken nose, however. Kino spat out a wad of it, then sat up, rifle braced, searching for targets. “So far, so good,” Taer answered in a slurred deadpan, her voice just as gravely; coarse from yelling and breathing dust, not to mention nearly getting throttled to death.
The Jems had either cloaked or fallen back, Kino couldn’t tell, but the sporadic fire had trickled to nothing; her rifle and gaze stayed out, searching, while the others conversed. Somebody squealed out in pain; field dressing, Taer figured, wincing in sympathy. She took a second to pat herself down, looking for blood; somehow, she hadn’t been hit – not yet, anyway – but she knew there’d be pain enough in store for all of them regardless. She repeated the process for a quick equipment check next, then stole a hurried glance at the LT’s question.
Anywhere but here, was Taer’s instinctive, barbed reply, but the Trill’s jaw clenched tight instead; a rare moment of self-control, while she thought it through. The hell’s left? The TOC’s a hole, OPs are gone, her eyes darted around the makeshift perimeter they’d created, thinking. Old coms tower? she guessed, turning her head over a shoulder to look. It was busted and broken before, now it was barely visible at all, over on the other side of the gaping hole where the TOC once stood. If they could reach it, it might work – if it was still there.
“Was a,” Taer started, but another coughing fit took over; she spat more bloody spit to clear her mouth out, a knee drawn up underneath to steady her position. A sharp twinge of pain flared in her chest; bruised or cracked ribs, maybe. “Comms tower, my six o’clock, ‘bout four hundred meters. Was a rally point, but it might be rubble for all I know. You’d have to skirt along the crater to get there – through the ruins. Gonna be close work,” Kino warned; not thrilled with the idea, but the situation was what it was. They had to move. “Jems are probably crawlin’ all over lookin’ for us now.”
Gotta be a better option, Kino shook her head. It was getting harder to think. Adrenaline could only do so much, and only lasted so long; as the lull continued, the non-com felt the aches and numbing pain creep in.
“Or,” the non-com added, “y’make for LZ Mortalis; we used it t'lift bodies out b’fore w’lost contact w’the Novo. Due west of the complex,” her hand pointed in a knife edge, “‘bout 800 meters out, built on a hill – only one in the valley, can’t miss it – but the tunnels are likely non-vi, so you’d haveta hump it out in th’ open,” her eyes flicked to the LTs, one clear, the other bloodshot and bruised. “It’s an elevated position, one way up. Y’don’t look like you’re in th’ mood for a run, though – matter of fact, y’look like shit,” she tried to laugh, but grimaced at the attempt.
Something sharp was digging into her hip, which forced Kino to shift her attention. A hand reached down, expecting to find a rock, but dug up half a compacted repulsor-stretcher instead. The handheld device was charred black, but looked to be functional. Kino tossed it to MacFarlane, ignoring the wet, dirt caked blood on the LTs flank. Worst case, the others could move faster with Mac on it than dragging the LT – best case, Mac could use it as an improvised crutch under her own power, if she was that stupid and stubborn. Taer gave it 50/50.
“Call it quick LT, we’re burnin’ daylight,” Kino nodded to her, winced, then resumed over-watch, rifle up and panning for threats. “I’ll stay back an’ cover y’ guys. Long as I can.”
[Meanwhile, in orbit…]
Veyat Three gripped the console before him as the ship shook under another assault. He was quickly loosing his patience. “Why isn’t that ship destroyed,” he demanded calmly. “I fail to understand – were my orders somehow unclear,” he sighed, turning purple-hued eyes upon his First.
“The enemy’s defenses are holding, sir. It is a Galaxy-class cruiser, more than a match for two attackers,” the First responded neutrally.
“We have three ships, do we not,” Veyat’s eyes narrowed at his own rhetorical question. “Recall the third, immediately.”
“Sir, our ground forces –“
“Are expendable. We have ample supply lines in place and can always breed more reinforcements,” Veyat smiled coldly. “I want that ship destroyed, now. Once that task is completed, we will continue to retrieve any troops that remain alive on the surface,” the Vorta moved calmly to stand right in front of the massive Jem’Hadar, to peer up into its eyes with contempt. “And when I report to the Founders, I might omit your unorthodox behavior,” he warned, “so long as we understand each other.”
“Understood, sir,” the First closed his scaly eyes, head bowed respectfully.
“Good,” Veyat Three smiled pleasantly, “very good. Such harmony is but one of their gifts,” he exhaled, then took a step back to return to his station, features blanked as if the happiness and joy he’d just expressed had never existed at all. “Now we shall teach it to our foes - crush them.”
Through the tactical headset, the Vorta watched as his ships swarmed and ravaged their larger prey. The Federation vessel’s shields lit up under the multi-angled assault, rolling in an attempt to track the far more agile hunters. Lances of burning energy streamed out, striking one, only for it to come under fire from the other. Veyat smiled confidently as he watched the third attack ship rise up from the dusty atmosphere to join the fray, adding its own fire into the engagement a moment later. Even as the hulk fought for its life, it was only a matter of time before it grew too wounded and too exhausted. It’s corpse would slowly fall, weeks or months dead, to burn up over the worthless world it failed to protect; just another sad lesson for a sad, savage people.
A pity, Veyat mused, but, such sacrifices must be made. “We will make an example of them,” he lifted his chin proudly. “Once their defenses are crippled, concentrate fire on life support and living quarters, while the other ships focus on critical systems. Let them bleed to death while we burn them from the stars. Perhaps others will learn from their folly,” the Vorta shrugged in doubt, but in truth, he couldn't be bothered to care either way.