Star Trek: Theurgy

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CHAPTER 05: BATTLE LOG [ DAY 06 | 1110 HRS. ] SPACE TRASH RAMPAGE

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(https://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/8/89/Fighter-Assault-Bay.png) (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/8/89/Fighter-Assault-Bay.png)

[ Lt JG Alessia Garcia - Callsign "Angel" (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alessia_Garcia,_callsign_%22Angel%22)| Fighter Assault Bay | Squadron Briefing Room | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]
@Nolan @Multificionado @Stegro88 @Fife @Havenborn @Doc M. @Griff 
Seated in her cockpit, with her Valravn powered up and ready to launch, Alessia was singing quietly inside the confines of her helmet. She didn't have any commlink open, merely doing it to still her nerves. She had stopped tapping her foot, at least, since she thought Fury - the RIO she flew with after her own as well as Devyrie Okhala were abducted - could hear it. It was not a good thing to make your RIO think you were nervous. He needed to have complete faith in her.

Angel turned her head in her seat, looking at his figure in the back of the cockpit with her peripheral vision. "How's the ache, better?"

Fury replied, the sound of his voice heard through the static of their link. [Took some painkillers this morning. Docs cleared me for duty. The aches I have left are really nominal. All good here, Garcia.]

Then, the Theurgy dropped out of warp, and the Fighter Bay's doors began to open. She had not heard anything from the SCO just yet, so she remained still in her seat. "Showtime?"

[This is Mission Ops,] came the voice of Cameron Henshaw from the bridge. [All fighters, you are cleared for launch. I repeat, you are cleared to launch. Await further instructions from your SCO and your Flight Leaders. Be aware, debris field expanding towards the Theurgy's position.]

[Showtime,] confirmed Fury, and Angel tapped the controls of their micro fusio thrusters.

The noise in the fighter bay was deafening when all the Lone Wolves filed up and launched into the Azure Nebula once more. Alessia saw her new pack vanishing by Elements through the bay doors and into this upcoming battle, which might just be the most deciding one she'd been in since the Dominion War. The doubts and the fears were there, of course, knowing how the old White Wolves had fared against the Rotarran. Other White Wolves had come aboard since then, and she couldn't help but think they might all die as well, since she'd experienced that in the last fray. She was, honestly, not sure she'd handle more losses at that point, even if it was the life in the pack. It was what they signed up for.

"Engaging launch thrusters," she said, and pushed the throttle forward when it was their turn, flying two fighter-lengths behind Daniel Havenborn in his old Gryphon fighter when they cleared the bay and entered the Azure Nebula once more. The launch flight patterns took them around, so that they faced the same direction as the Theurgy...

...and that's when she saw it. "Me cago en la puta..."

Klingon ships criss-crossing through a massive debris field, one that was ever expanding around the epicentre, which was a Borg cube. Flares of weapon fire lit the debris field from within, and allegedly, someplace close, there was supposed to be some kind of sealed subspace tunnel. No doubt the cube was defending it, so it had to be close. A quick glance towards her sensors showed her that their singular ally ship was not among the wreckage. It's signal was lit on her HUD, but it was on the other side of the debris field, being chased by the cube's relentless assaults.

"The Cayuga," she said, finding it to be the only thing in their favour at the prospect of what awaited them "It's still out there."

Then, came the orders from Thomas Ravon...

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OOC: @Nolan posts next, then it's free for all to post their characters launching from the Fighter Assault Bay as well as their reactions to stuff outside, but my next post will come pretty quick, since the mission objectives begin right away. Those who don't manage to post before me can cover both the launches as well as the next development in their first posts in this thread, which will follow the Lone Wolves through the Battle of the Apertures. Here is the squad chart for those who need it, and please bear in mind that Walton's flight will be posting in a separate thread:

Squad Chart: [Show/Hide]Me cago en la puta = "I shit on the whore", at the sight Angel sees.

[ Lt Cmdr Thomas 'Razor' Ravon | En route to Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]
@Auctor Lucan   @Multificionado  @Stegro88  @Fife  @Havenborn  @Doc M.  @Griff  @Kinvarus

Ten minutes before red alert.

Thomas had suited up and was making his way down to the FAB. His exosuit had been placed in his quarters after having found no time to change out of it during a system check on his fighter. He wasn't wearing his helmet yet as he stepped into the turbolift to head down to the bay. They'd be arriving shortly at their destination and it was vital that he'd be in the cockpit of his fighter when those bay doors would open.With a chime the doors opened of the turbolift. A woman standing in it already, yet he didn't recognize her or paid any attention to her. He was sunken in thoughts for the upcoming battle. A battle he'd probably not survive...

Zyrao leaned against the lift.  Wearing a pair of loose, but comfortable cargo pants and a form fitted black tank top.  The wealth of Cardassian, Kzin, Breen, Klingon, and El-Aurian tattoos covered her body various languages, images, and all of them unique in their own right for the most part.  Cool grey eyes opened as the turbolift doors slid apart to allow some sort of pilot into the lift.  Her eyes raked down his suit, the one that would likely protect him from the vastness of space and some of the attacks he could possibly face today.  Shifting up to his face, her eyes studied it before closing again

The grey pools snapped open again, and slid to the side where the man now stood.  She still leaned casually her body completely relaxed and loose but now her eyes, they studied that face, there were similiarities, but .. why

The pilot could feel the eyes of the woman staring at him. She didn't look like a Starfleet officer or crew member, civilian perhaps? Maybe in awe at the exosuit. He shifted his gaze to her slightly as he smiled faintly "Anything wrong ma'am?" he asked as he could feel the eyes of the woman look over his stature. He let his own eyes looked over the various tattoos that covered her, yet he looked back into her eyes as he didn't know her and figured awe was probably what overcame her.

Her body was muscular but thin and she held herself so casually it was as though she was only on the Turbolift to take a quick ride.  Still, he seemed to notice her gaze  ~Losing your touch, Natauna.~  blinking she looked to the side a moment, but Zyrao was not one to hide herself or her thoughts so she shifted her eyes back.  She had been, at some point, gifted a Universal Translator, and so she could understand the words but not the language

~Those eyes.  For sure those eyes.  The nose too...~.

"Do.. you happen to have a sister?"

Waiting idly for the lift to reach the desired deck, the woman spoke suddenly and he frowned slightly as he got to understand the words she voiced out to him. His stance changing as he looked back at the woman. Surprise evident on his face as he shook his head "No, I was a single child." he answered her as he frowned for a brief moment "Why do you ask?"

She tilted her head for a moment  ~Single child.  Odd, but the features are so.. similar.~  Zyrao shrugged*  "You look similar to a woman I once knew some years ago.  I haven't seen her in some time." she left it there, for now, as there was no reason to speak to him more, a single child, meant that Chloe was unrelated and yet... something... it just seemed too perfect

"Features? What ar-" The words of the pilot interrupted as the turbolift chimed. The destination of the FAB announced as he looked at the doors open and looked back at Zyrao. He had no time to ask any further questions or react as his feet moved forward. He looked at her with a confused look on his face before he stepped out of the lift and moved towards the FAB with a tinge of uncertainty and doubt in the back of his mind. What was this woman talking about?

[ Fighter Assault Bay | Wolf 01 'Kestrel' | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]

After having walked up to his fighter, checking the ordinance and firing up the pre flight check list, Ravon couldn't still quite shake the feeling that had been itching in the back of his head. Why had the woman asked if heh ad siblings, who else was out there that shared similarities with him? He had never come in contact with any of his relatives. Perhaps she knew more?

In any case distractions were an issue in situations like this, they'd cause for slower reaction time, wrong judgement and eventually slip ups that could lead to death. He shook his head violently as if trying to shake the feelings before he looked out of the canopy. The rest of the fighters ready and eager to get out there. The bay finally looked a bit fuller then it was a couple of days ago and it somehow made a cold feeling sink into Thomas' gut as he hoped most of them would return. Regardless, they knew the risks of their job and the odds they faced. Death would come for them eventually, as Klingon's would say. What greater death would their be then to die in combat and with the idea that the future of the quadrant might be saved by one's small actions.

He drafted up a message to Walton informing her that her wing would break off post launch to provide escort for the Allegiant. A deal he had 'struck' with Dewitt a mere hour before the engagement. He wished her the best of luck and a fruitful hunt before the lights in the fighter assault bay changed and became flashing red. The engines began to throttle up and the bay was cleared as the bay doors opened.

[All fighters, you are cleared for launch. I repeat, you are cleared to launch. Await further instructions from your SCO and your Flight Leaders. Be aware, debris field expanding towards the Theurgy's position.]

With his bird rolling out to launch and taking the lead into the core of the Azure Nebula, Thomas looked in awe at the situation unfolding before them. Apocalyptic might the correct term as multiple Klingon ships were already in the debris field, the Cube being their primary target as the HUD indicated the position of the Cayuga. Thomas rolled his fighter around and waited for the rest of the squadron, seeing Walton's wing clip off before the last fighters were out of the Theurgy.

"Diamond formation on me. Listen up! We'll make our way towards the Cayuga through the debris field. If we can we'll make a pass on the Cube. Watch your fire and do not engage the Klingon forces unless fired upon. Borg is the primary threat here so save your weapons for that. Marking checkpoints on your HUD's now. These will be rally points in case we break up. Good hunting and give them hell."

He closed the channel and fired his engines up to full as he strode off at full speed towards the debris field. Hopefully they wouldn't become part of that field too soon. His focus on the battle now, thought the itch lingered. And so it began...

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First part was established with @BZ  for a short JP.

[ Lieutenant JG Evelyn Rawley, callsign "Ghost" (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Evelyn_Rawley,_callsign_%22Ghost%22) | Wolf 02 | Cockpit of AC-409 Valkyrie Winterbourne | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Nolan @Stegro88 @Fife @Havenborn @Doc M. @Griff @Kinvarus
[Show/Hide][All fighters, you are cleared for launch. I repeat, you are cleared to launch. Await further instructions from your SCO and your Flight Leaders. Be aware, debris field expanding towards the Theurgy's position.]

Those were words that Rawley eagerly anticipated. She had long been ready for launch, her sidearms and souvenir Klingon blade holstered on her side. She and the Winterbourne were ready and armed to the teeth.

She followed Razor out of the bay and saw the hullabaloo stretched before her.

“Holy shite,” she said. “Look at the size of the hullabaloo.”

Swaths of shite was strewn around in a debris field in the now-familiar center of the nebula, with the apertures that could potentially spew out invading Borg. Klingon ships spewed disruptor fire themselves, and in center-stage was the Cube, looming almost like a small moon, as it were.

Well, looks like the Lone Wolves have arrived just in time to save their arses, she thought.

Positioned at Razor’s side, she took in the hullabaloo while she waited for orders. She noticed four of the Wolves breaking off and heading toward the Allegiant, all in Valvarns. Two of them she noticed were piloted by Walton and Jhoza, according to the readouts.

Well, with ol’ Walton leading the way, the Allegiant is in safe hands.

She typed a message to Jhoza. [Best of luck, Jhoza.]

After a moment, Razor chimed in.

"Diamond formation on me. Listen up! We'll make our way towards the Cayuga through the debris field. If we can we'll make a pass on the Cube. Watch your fire and do not engage the Klingon forces unless fired upon. Borg is the primary threat here so save your weapons for that. Marking checkpoints on your HUD's now. These will be rally points in case we break up. Good hunting and give them hell."

“Might be wise not to engage the Klingons at all,” said Rawley to herself, “considering how many arses the Borg handed to them.”

Razor’s fighter was moving in. Rawley started her engines and moved to follow.

“Once more unto the breach, then,” she said with a smile.

[Lt.JG Alessia Garcia – “Angel” (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alessia_Garcia,_callsign_%22Angel%22)  | Wolf 06| Debris Field] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Nolan @Stegro88 @Fife @Havenborn @Doc M. @Griff @Multificionado

"Diamond formation on me. Listen up! We'll make our way towards the Cayuga through the debris field. If we can we'll make a pass on the Cube. Watch your fire and do not engage the Klingon forces unless fired upon. Borg is the primary threat here so save your weapons for that. Marking checkpoints on your HUD's now. These will be rally points in case we break up. Good hunting and give them hell."

Hearing Razor's order come in, Angel rolled her fighter up into formation with the others already seeing the Klingon ships popping up on her HUD along with her fellow Wolves, the Borg and the rally point checkpoints.

The Borg were bad enough to deal with on their own as were the Klingons so the last thing she wanted to have to deal was battle both. Hopefully lady luck would be smiling down on them though and Klingons would, like them consider the Borg the bigger threat and go after them as well.

Right chica because our luck has been fantastic so far. She thought briefly before shaking her head to banish it from her mind as she glanced out at the debris field, carefully manouvering her Valravn around asteroids and other debris in her way while doing her best to keep in formation when she could.

"You ready for this Fury?"

"Yes Ma'am." came his short reply

Alessia smiled under her helmet and nodded, not that he could see either action as she hit the comm "Wolf 06 in formation and ready to kick some Borg ass, let's give em hell." she said as she followed the others in. 

[ Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Wolf 03 | Debris Field | Azure Nebula ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Nolan @Fife @Multificionado @Havenborn @Doc M. @Griff @Kinvarus
[Show/Hide]
As she walked around her new warp fighter, Donna looked across the bay at her wingwoman as Isel did her own walkaround. They had been talking in Donna’s quarters when the call had come through that their craft were armed and ready. Using the remaining time they had, the two had showered, separately and donned clean clothes before heading back to the hanger to put on their exosuits back on. After confirming that they were in working order, they had both gone their separate ways to inspect their craft and the attached ordnance.

And boy was she loaded for bear. Two Mk I Hellhound cluster bombs, two Mk I Hellbore torpedos, six Mk Q-II Quantum torpedos and the twin mass-driver turrets. And that was just the external weaponry. The Mk3 came equipped with the usual phasers and micro torpedos like the Mk2 but it also had a Type I Tetryon Pulse Phase Cannon. And even with all of this, it was still faster and tougher than a Mk2.

Satisfied with her inspection, Donna climbed into the cockpit and secured yourself before beginning to boot up the warp fighter and going through her checklist. Looking around, other pilots were moving about their fighters while the ground crews were running about taking care of last-minute problems.

“Wolf-03 to Wolf 04,” Donna said over their element com channel. “You all set, Foxfire?”

“All set here, Chance! What about you? Do these new fighters make you all hot and bothered?” Came Isel's reply, her tone playful and teasing.

“They would if the impending Borg invasion wasn't such a downer” Donna replied, trying to stay calm and focused. As much as she enjoyed bantering with Isel, and always had, she didn't want to die today. Not now.

“Aw, don't be such a downer, Donna!” Isel fired back, her tone carrying a hint of worry beneath its cheerful sound. “Just don't go getting yourself assimilated. You won't be nearly as cute with all that metal plating and wires sticking out of you! Besides, I've got your six.”

“You always do. And I'll always have yours. So no dying on me either.” Donna said, smiling across the bay at Isel even if the Vulpinian couldn't see her. She considered saying that she loved Isel but was it too much, given the state of their relationship? "Fuck it" she thought. “Isel, I, no being assimilated either. I don't want the love of my life being all green and gnarly,” she managed to stammer our, not actually saying what she meant to say.

Donna didn’t reply to Isel’s final words as she knew she’d start crying if she did. Instead she focused on the task at hand as she saw Razor to her left performing a walkaround of his own craft before climbing aboard. Time was running out. Looking across the bay, Donna stared are Isel in her cockpit and wondered if they would both be here when the battle was over.

[All fighters, you are cleared for launch. I repeat, you are cleared to launch. Await further instructions from your SCO and your Flight Leaders. Be aware, debris field expanding towards the Theurgy's position.]

“Here we go,” Donna thought as she sat back in her seat and watched as Ravon taxied in front of her. Once it was her turn, she fired up her engines and moved off, turning to head towards the open doors and the Azure Nebula beyond. “Funny, it looks almost peaceful at this angle.”

Once clear of the bay doors, Donna advanced her throttles and brought her fighter up into a banking climb. And her entire view changed from peaceful to chaotic as the battlescape appeared. “Now that’s more like it.”

"Diamond formation on me. Listen up!” came Ravon’s voice over comms. “We'll make our way towards the Cayuga through the debris field. If we can we'll make a pass on the Cube. Watch your fire and do not engage the Klingon forces unless fired upon. Borg is the primary threat here so save your weapons for that. Marking checkpoints on your HUD's now. These will be rally points in case we break up. Good hunting and give them hell."

“Time to go to work,” Chance thought as she advanced to full power and manoeuvred into position as ordered.

“Wolf-03 acknowledges.”

[ Ensign Isel “Foxfire” Nix | Wolf-04 | Debris Field | Azure Nebula ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Nolan @Stegro88 @Havenborn @Doc M. @Griff @Kinvarus
[Show/Hide]Seated in the cockpit of her new Mk III Valkyrie, Isel couldn’t help but grin like an idiot at Donna’s final remark. The Vulpinian was glad the helmet of her exosuit hid it from anyone who might see. The love of her life… Isel’s chest tightened at those words, her spirit soaring. They may very well be flying to their deaths in a few minutes, but just at that moment she was one happy little fox.

”You’re making me blush, Donna!” Isel replied, feeling slightly breathless. ”I…” Isel hesitated, unsure of what to say. She wanted to tell Donna how she felt, but she had never actually said the words before. ”I… you too…” Isel slapped the outside of her helmet with both hands in frustration, ”I mean…” Isel sighed and let her hands fall into her lap in exasperation. ”Fuck, you know what I mean!” Isel couldn’t help but laugh at her own awkwardness, shaking her head as she added, ”I’ll say it properly when we both get back without metal plates fused to our foreheads and tubes popping out of out asses….” Isel let out a nervous laugh, knowing that assimilation and death were both very real possibilities in their upcoming mission. Isel put her hands back to work, running through the final stages of her checklist in preparation for launch.

[All fighters, you are cleared for launch. I repeat, you are cleared for launch. Await further instructions from your SCO and your Flight Leaders. Be aware, debris field expanding towards the Theurgy’s position.]

Isel watched as the other fighters made their way to launch positions, setting her own to taxi into position behind Chance when the time came. Once Donna was clear and she got the green light, she sent her Mk III forward into the vast openness of space, free of the Theurgy once more. As she cleared the doors of the FAB and saw the swirling blue ribbons of the Nebula all around her, she couldn’t help but grin. The exhilaration of launch always brought with it a thrill, even if that thrill was quickly replaced by tension and fear. Those were the emotions that replaced her previous excitement as she followed Wolf-03 through it’s banking climb and caught her first glimpse of what lay ahead. She had hoped to never see a Borg cube in person, to never experience the fear that their simple shape of their vessel instilled.

Well… so much for that hope…

”Diamond formation on me.” Came Ravon’s voice over the comms. ”Listen up! We’ll make our way towards the Cayuga through the debris field. If we can we’ll make a pass on the Cube. Watch your fire and do not engage the Klingon forces unless fired upon. Borg is the primary threat here so save your weapons for that. Marking checkpoints on your HUDs now. These will be rally points in case we break up. Good hunting and give them hell.”

”Wolf-04 acknowledges,” Isel called as she brought herself into position in the formation. She saw the checkpoints pop up on her HUD, though her eyes were focused on the debris field ahead. Isel took a deep breath and let it out slowly, setting her jaw as she did so. Game time… She told herself, her expression serious for a change, I just hope the game isn’t pin the assimilation tubule on the fox…

[ Tessa May Lance, callsign:  Goldeneye (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tessa_May_Lance,_callsign_%22Goldeneye%22) | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Nolan @Stegro88 @Fife @Havenborn @Doc M. @Griff @Kinvarus

[ All fighters, you are cleared for launch. I repeat, you are cleared for launch. Await further instructions from your SCO and your Flight Leaders. Be aware, debris field expanding towards the Theurgy’s position. ]

Wolf-07, Lieutenant (junior grade) Tessa May Lance, callsign Goldeneye, dashed out of the head down the corridor and out into the fighter assault bay where a hodge-podge collection of Starfleet fighter craft awaited her.  Why did she always have to relieve herself right before a battle?  It had to be combat nerves, the wait before a battle always got to her and gave her stomach pains that 24th century medicine had considered cured long ago.  Not for the first time since the Theurgy was forced to flee the Federation, Tessa wondered if she was cut out for space.  Who would they be going up against this time? she wondered.  The last time it was supposed to be the Borg, but they had ended up engaging the Klingons.  They were supposed to be fighting the Borg now, but Tessa wouldn’t be surprised if the Romulans or the Jem’Hadar was out there waiting for them.

Petty Officer First Class Adara Hussein helped Tessa into her fighter and handed the pilot her helmet before disappearing out of sight.  Tessa tucked her hair in and checked the seals on her helmet before closing the cockpit.  The other fighters moving out already but Tessa managed to get her fighter into formation in time.  There was an advantage to no longer being Wolf-03, even if Wolf-03’s parking space was right next to the door.  Her wingman, Petty Officer Third Class Lillee t'Jellaieu moved her fighter right behind her and the combined force of Valkries and Valravns shot out into the black.

[ Tessa May Lance, callsign:  Goldeneye (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tessa_May_Lance,_callsign_%22Goldeneye%22) | Cockpit | AC-409 Mk III Valkyrie | Ithacae System ]

Well, it wasn’t all that black.  The white blue haze of the Azure Nebula was still present, giving the impression that they were underwater.  The dust and debris in the Ithacae System was so bad that it was best to rely on instruments; the view out the cockpit was too cluttered. 

Realizing that her wingman had formerly been an admiral’s aide rather than a seasoned combat pilot (and blissfully unware that Petty Officer t'Jellaieu was not only a seasoned combat pilot but had more flight hours than Goldeneye did), Tessa felt worried about Lillee and decided to call her.  ”Bloodwing, this is Goldeneye.  Don’t let the clutter shake you Lilliee this is exactly what we want,” she assured her.  She was cut off when she heard the voice of Lieutenant Thomas Ravon over the comms. 

”Diamond formation on me.  Listen up! We’ll make our way towards the Cayuga through the debris field. If we can we’ll make a pass on the Cube. Watch your fire and do not engage the Klingon forces unless fired upon. Borg is the primary threat here so save your weapons for that. Marking checkpoints on your HUDs now. These will be rally points in case we break up. Good hunting and give them hell.”

”Oh my gosh this is it,”Tessa gasped as the image of the Klingon ships engaging a Borg cube came into view.  ”This is real!  We’re actually fighting the Borg!”  For a brief moment, all of her training disappeared before returning like a familiar stranger.  ”Er uh, I mean this is Wolf-07, Goldeneye, acknowledging you, Razor!” she stammered as she moved her Valkyrie into position.

[PO3 Lillee t’Jellaieu (Callsign: Bloodwing) (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Lillee_t%27Jellaieu) | Wolf 08 | Debris Field | Azura Nebula|] Attn: @Doc M.

[Show/Hide]
There was something uniquely bowel-emptying about the build-up to battle. In the past few battles, the Theurgy had been constantly on the defensive, attacked constantly by the Asurians, the Klingons, the Savi, even Starfleet. All of the battles had arrived without warning, without time to prepare, and so Lillee had simply answered the red alert and done her job. There had been no opportunity for worrying, nerves or fear. Even during the Allegiant's desperate mission to seek out the Borg, the fear had been amorphous, unfocused, as they had had no clear idea of when, where or even if they would find the Borg.

Now, though, there was plenty of opportunity for fear, for worry and for nerves. The time of arrival was set, with the Theurgy's immense warp drive and four nacelles driving the starship to its next great battle, and so after ensuring that her own Valkyrie was as ready as it could be, Lillee allowed herself a brief time to herself to prepare for the coming battle. Fifteen minutes were spent in the Mess Hall, devouring a much needed meal.

Then the following half hour, in a quite undignified manner, Lillee sat on the head in her quarters and endured the relentless emptying of her bowels. Stars above, no matter how she might hide it, SHE WAS BLASTED TERRIFIED!. Meeting Tessa Lance had been a help, reassuring Lillee that she had a natural ally in it all, but the closer they came to 1110 hours, the worse she felt. They would be fighting the Borg. In all likelihood, they would be fighting the very same Borg cube that the Allegiant had tracked the previous day...the very same Borg cube that had survived battle with a dozen of Starfleet's finest starships. It was madness of the highest order. The Theurgy had been mercilessly battered over the past weeks, the Cayuga was little more than a wreck, and allies seemed few and far between. Wolf 359 had been a fair fight by comparison.

Oh, Elements, Lillee winced as she remembered the news reports of that awful day. She had been on Romulus then, at the start of her military training, when the news of the Borg invasion had arrived. They had all watched the newscasts as the Borg cube flew through the Federation so fast that Starfleet couldn't even begin to catch up with it. The newscasters reported that the Enterprise, the hated, powerful flagship of the Empire's greatest enemy, had been swept aside by the alien Borg with contemptuous ease. Lillee remembered being in the barracks square that day, watching the night sky as fifty great warbirds gathered above in orbit to defend Romulus should worst come to worst. She remembered the instructors tersely ordering the trainees to stay put, stay disciplined and wait for orders.

She remembered the newscasts as the dumbstruck reporter read aloud a dispatch from the Tal Shiar, reporting that an entire armada Federation starships had been annihilated at Wolf 359 by a single Borg ship, and that nothing could possibly save Earth now from assimilation. A miraculous last-minute attack by the Enterprise saved Earth that day, but now, there would be no so extraordinary heroics. The Theurgy was it. It was a pointless gesture.

Yet, as she sat on the head, her uniform trousers around her ankles, Lillee also remembered seeing that horrible assimilated Vulcan woman back in the debris field, when she'd been flying the Allegiant as they hid from the Borg. The woman, standing impossibly in sheer vacuum, cybernetics erupting from her skin grotesquely, She had been looking right at the Allegiant, silently mocking the pathetic little corvette. Oh, Lillee had been terrified, but by Eisn, she was furious. No such monster would ever EVER go near her children. Her twins would grow up free and happy, and nothing, not even the whole fucking Borg Collective, could change that.

Thus, half an hour later, Lillee sat in her cockpit, ready for the coming apocalypse. The emptying of her bowels had emptied her fear, leaving a tight ball of cold rage in its place, spurred on by the mental image of her twins, of Askin and T'Lil, their happy smiles. The red alert came, followed by the launch order, and Lillee smoothly took her place in the formation on her wingmate's flank.

"Diamond formation on me.  Listen up! We'll make our way towards the Cayuga through the debris field. If we can we'll make a pass on the Cube. Watch your fire and do not engage the Klingon forces unless fired upon. Borg is the primary threat here so save your weapons for that. Marking checkpoints on your HUDs now. These will be rally points in case we break up. Good hunting and give them hell."

"Wolf 08, ready," Lilee acknowledged dispasssionately in turn after Tessa's nervous reply. She flicked her Valkyrie along behind Tessa with ease, a lethal protective shadow for Goldeneye. It was true that Lillee had only flown fighters in test flights in the past few years, and she suspected that she would not be able to fly as skillfully as most of the squadron, but she committed herself regardless. In that, at least, her past experience provided help: true combat depended more on blind luck than pilot skill. On a whim, she flicked her comm to her Element channel.

"I have your aft quarter protected, Goldeneye," Lillee reassured her wingmate quietly, since Tessa had just attempted to do the same, unnecessary though it had been. "Where you lead, I will follow."

[ Lieutenant JG Evelyn Rawley, callsign "Ghost" (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Evelyn_Rawley,_callsign_%22Ghost%22) | Wolf 02 | Cockpit of AC-409 Valkyrie Winterbourne | Azure Nebula ] Attn: @Nolan @Stegro88 @Fife @Havenborn @Doc M. @Griff @Kinvarus
[Show/Hide]Her teeth bared behind the visor of her helmet, Rawley entered the debris field together with the other Lone Wolves - the battle begun.

The closer to the edge of the field that she got, she became more calm, all the fears bleeding out of her. That certainty that made people think she had a death-wish settled into her. The knowledge, that the only thing that made her fearful was that illusion of fear itself. It was the core of her daring attitude, dancing with death as she tended to do whilst in the cockpit. She took a deep breath, and then, she was ready. I've nothing to loose anyway. Let's fuck it up.

"Ghost to Razor," she said over the element channel, her words for Thomas alone while dodging debris and maintaining formation. "I don't know about you, but I fancy introducing myself to the bitch on that thing. Besides, the cube will suffer our first hits before it adapts, right? Might as well take a shot, since it's on the way to that Cayuga ship anyway."

She hoped Ravon would fancy straying close enough to the cube while they flew by, but if he didn't... it was no secret that she had a tendency to break formation and do whatever the fuck she deigned to anyway. It was what got her into trouble all the time, but she got some results as well. But a cube? She didn't think she'd be able to do more than scratch it in a single pass, and those bloody things were still operating when 80 % of their mass were blown away. She'd never fought the Borg, but it was one of those things you tended to remember from the Academy after being shown recordings and logs from Wolf-359 and those other times.

Inside the debris field, chaos reigned. Surface thoughts quickly vaporised in the heat. Like a celestial body, the cube loomed someplace just out of sight, like a great wall of deadly mass obscured by thorn metal and ignited plasma. Visibility was shit, and everything was moving in different directions, all at once. "Fuck," said Rawley when a spinning, burning bird-of-prey came down from on high - drifting by the inertia of the cube's high-yield gravimetric torpedoes. Rawley had to break formation out of sheer survival, and she ended up alone, cut off from the squadron. All it had taken was a slight deviation, a quick barrel role, and they were all gone. She bit her lip, used to fly solo, and knew they were all just a call away.

Green light reflected off the shrapnel that her deflector spared her from, and she saw that it was one of those polaron beams. Like a firewall of green light, only inches thick, it caused no damage, making a sweep over her Valkyrie and the surrounding wreckage. It passed over her exosuit and her flight controls, and she couldn't help the cold shiver that ran up her spine, knowing that the damn Queen that was supposed to be inside the cube - according to the Allegiant's intel from the day before - had just got to know her on a very intimate level. It made the ire rise in her, and she clenched her teeth together.

"You want to feel me up without foreplay?" she hissed, and armed her two Hellbores with her thumbs. Then she broke off towards that wall of metal and green lights. "Then have it your way, you cunt."

The reverberation that passed through her Valkyrie's space frame when she unleashed hell upon the cube was felt right through her exosuit, but there was no sound from outside the canopy. The bright light competed with the destruction around her set course. The flares of her two massive torpedoes was emphasised with the rapid fire of her pulse phasers. Even as the Hellbores were in flight, she jammed her thumbs down on her micro torpedo launch-buttons. From beneath the Winterbourne's nose cone, the flaring stream of rode the same path as her pulse phaser bolts, and she did not break off the last second, falling back into a course towards the rest of the squadron. Behind her, she had carved out a massive hole in the three kilometer wide hulking mass. The Academy had said the cube repaired itself fast, but between not shooting and shooting, the call was easy.

"This is Ghost, I carved her a fiery asshole!" she said over the squadron channel, "hurry and fuck it before its shield matrix adap- Woah!"

In such close proximity to the cube, the two gravimetric torpedoes it sent after her were right in her wake before she had managed to drop countermeasures. The detonation of the blast, it made her Valkyrie topple forward, and she was in free-spin through the debris, trying to level out. While off the squad channel, she was swearing louder by every second.

---

OOC: The Cayuga is only ten kilometers away from the cube, but the debris is more dense on that side. Husks of Klingon ships in every direction. Now, here are additional Battle Objectives to illustrate in your posts! Please check off one objective each, and you have full liberty in setting up details, like ship names or Klingon NPCs if needed. Change or adapt these objectives as you wish too, thinking of it as a writing exercise, as long as the overall intent is still to reach the Cayuga. Have a look! [Show/Hide]

[ LT Daniel Havenborn, Callsign: Salvo | Cockpit | AC-307 Mark-II Valkyrie “Hellcat”] Attn: @Nolan, @Multificionado, @Doc M., @Stegro88, @patches, @Fife, @Auctor Lucan, @Griff, @Kinvarus

Daniel had been sitting in the Pilot’s Lounge, after having finally gotten his quarters switched to Vector 2, the transfer of his gear didn’t take too long as he didn't really have much to unpack.  Once he had unpacked finally he had decided that he wanted to get to work on some tactical plans, he wasn’t really feeling all that tired given everything that had gone on.  So he made his way back to the Pilot’s Lounge.  He had been seated for several minutes when his RIO had entered.  “I got Hellcat all suited up for when we arrive at our destination.” He said. 

“Whenever that will be.”  Daniel replied as he looked up at his friend.  Knight stood there in front of him.  Knight looked around to make sure that the two of them were alone before speaking.  “Daniel, I know how you feel about NCOs serving as pilots.  I also know you and know that you’re probably planning something.  Let me offer some friendly advice, let it go for now, talking to Commander Ravon likely won’t yield any results at least not right now.  Wait until after things have calmed down and we’re not on a constant readiness alert.”

Daniel looked down at his PADD then back at his friend.  “Thanks for the advice old friend; I’ll keep it in mind.”  He replied.  Then a moment a silence as Daniel stood up, a moment later and the red alert klaxons began to sound off.  “Prep the figher, I’ll get into my flight suit and meet you there.”  Daniel said as he made his way towards the locker rooms.  It didn’t take him long to get into his flight suit, being an veteran pilot he had gotten into and out of his flight suit numerous times in a variety of different conditions.  As he stepped out of the lockers and through the corridor towards the FAB proper he could see the other pilots making their way to their fighters.  Knight was seated in their fighter as Daniel approached and climbed inside.  He brought up his weapons load out screen and smirked, Knight did know him well and he knew what he would have chosen.

----

Hearing the order to launch Daniel brought his engines to full power and moments later he was thrust out into space alongside the other Lone Wolves.  As he took in the sight of their soon to be battlefield, a single Borg cube was fighting off several Klingon vessels and he spotted another Federation vessel nearby which his HUD identified as the USS Cayuga.  As he received orders from Commander Ravon he made note of the rally points as he moved into diamond formation alongside the rest of his flight.  “Salvo acknowledges orders.”  He said into the squadron channel.

He personally would have a chosen a different formation, especially when going up against the Borg but he wasn’t in charge and he had to assume that Commander Ravon had some sort of plan up his sleeve.  As they flew through the debris of what were once Klingon vessels Daniel couldn’t help but feel a bit of satisfaction, Martok and his Klingons were getting exactly what they deserved for the bullshit that he pulled against the Sword.  On the other hand the Klingons weren’t exactly fairing well against the Borg, so much for Klingon bravado and strength he thought to himself.  Suddenly Knight broke the silence.

“Salvo I’m picking up a Klingon distress signal coming from an escape pod that is drifting towards the Borg cube, if we move now we can pull them to relative safety.”  He said behind him.  Save the Klingons or ignore them, the patriot in him wanted to ignore the Klingons, however the part of him that had been tempered by Starfleet Academy told him that saving the Klingons would be the right thing to do, even if they would fire on them none the less.

With a sigh he locked onto the escape pod.  “I see them, let’s go be heroes.”  He said as he broke from formation.  “Salvo to Angel, stay on my wing.”  He said as he sent her the coordinates of the Klingon escape pod as well as his engine speed.  “Knight, prep the tractor beam.”  He said as he powered his engines up to full impulse and made his way towards the Klingon escape pod.  As much as he hoped this would help smooth relations with the Klingons he sincerely doubted it would, they likely would only have a cease-fire until the Borg threat was dealt with.

[ Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson & Ens. Isel "Foxfire" Nix | Wolves 03 & 04 | Debris Field | Azure Nebula ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Stegro88 @Nolan @Havenborn @Doc M. @Griff @Kinvarus
[Show/Hide]Part One of Joint Post Between Fife and Stegro88
Wolves 03 & 04 entered the debris field with the rest of the squadron but it quickly became apparent that keeping any kind of squadron level organisation was going to be next to impossible to maintain. There was broken pieces of ships everywhere which was making navigation a challenge even before you threw in the combat manoeuvring that they would need to do.

“Stay close Foxfire,” Chance directed her wingmate. “Things are going to get pretty hectic real fast.”

“By hectic, you wouldn’t happen to mean things trying to blow us up and assimilate us at the same time now, would you?” Isel fired back, her voice dripping with a mixture of sarcasm and concentration as she maneuvered around yet another piece of debris.

“Something like that,” Chance responded as she pulled back on her controls to go up and over the neck of what looked like a K’tinga-class. Rolling over to reorientate herself, she caught sight of the enormous cube through the field, floating there like some strange sort of angel of death. “Any ideas for dealing with the cube?”

“Well there’s always the “someone else’s fucking problem” option,” Isel joked as she caught sight of the monstrosity between what appeared to be a floating Klingon nacelle and a chuck of god-only-knew-what, “though I suppose in this case we are that someone else... shit!” Isel put her new fighter into a steep climb to avoid a piece of wreckage that had drifted into her path, then quickly scanned the area around her until she caught sight of Chance’s fighter.

“Well, I have some cluster bombs and Hellbores with the cube’s name on them. What say we see if we can make a dent in that thing?” Donna proposed as she rolled around more wreckage. She saw Foxfire approaching and turned to match her course and speed.

“Roger that, Chance. We’d better hit them fast if we’re going to make a scratch before their shields adapt.” Isel acknowledged. Further words were cut off by a series of explosions along the side of the cube. Neither Chance nor Foxfire could tell who or what caused it but the mystery was solved  a moment later when Wolf-02 sounded off across the squadron channel.

"This is Ghost, I carved her a fiery asshole!" Ghost yelled out. “Hurry and fuck it before its shield matrix adap- Woah!"

“Shit, something’s wrong,” Chance called out, her voice concerned for her friend. It had been years since they had flown together but you always remembered your wingmates. At least, that’s what she had been told.

“How the hell did she get over there?” Isel asked, knowing she had lost track of the rest of the Lone Wolves but still not seeing how Ghost had drifted so far, unless she’s simply made a bee-line for the Cube. 

“I’ve no idea, Foxfire. But it looks like she’s out of control,” Donna observed, glancing down at her screens to try and pin down her location. But it was impossible inside the debris field; there was just too much interference. “I can’t pinpoint her location. We’re too far away.”

“Aw, hell.” Isel muttered, keying open a channel to the rest of the squadron, “This is Foxfire. Looks like Wolf-02 is in the shit. We can’t get a sensor reading on her, but we had a brief visual of her in an uncontrolled spin.” Isel reported as she alternated her attention between dodging debris and searching for any sign of Ghost, “Wolves-03 and -04 will try and draw the Cube’s attention. Does someone want to grab Ghost before she becomes one?”

“Thanks Foxfire,” Chance said in gratitude as she plotted out something that resembled an attack run through the debris. Although that was a generous description as they were going sideways as much as they were going forwards. Weaving to the left, Chance flashed past the wing section from a Vor’cha-class attack cruiser. “Shall we then?”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Isel replied as she squeezed between two large chunks of debris, “we still need to get through this shit, and then we’ll be dealing with the Cube. We might all end up ghosts before this is finished.” Isel grumbled, turning her head away from her sensors for a moment to try and locate Chance’s fighter. All around her, debris rolled and drifted, making it difficult to keep track of her Element Leader. Or anything else, for that matter. There was just too much movement all around them. Finally, after several moments of searching, Isel managed to spot the white form of the Mk III moving through the scorched and torn chunks of technological detritus and quickly altered her course to bring herself closer to Chance.

“I’ll go first then,” Chance said once Foxfire was back in formation. “Just stay on my ass.”

“With pleasure!” Isel acknowledged, a sly grin hidden beneath her flight helmet.

“That’s what I figured,” Chance chuckled as she brought her Valkyrie around to line up on the cube. Reaching down even as she rolled and ducked under debris, she armed her cluster bombs. “I’m leading with cluster bombs, Foxfire. Be a dear and drill a pair of Hellbores in afterwards, would you?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Isel said, her grin turning wicked under her visor as her hand moved to arm the aforementioned ordinance. She glanced up to check where they were in relation to the Cube. “You know I love it when I get to... fuck, break right!”

[ Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson & Ens. Isel "Foxfire" Nix | Wolves 03 & 04 | Debris Field | Azure Nebula ]  Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Nolan @Fife @Havenborn @Griff @Doc M. @Kinvarus
[Show/Hide]
Part Two Of A Joint Post Between Fife and Stegro88

Chance reacted instinctively to the shouted command from her Vulpinian wingwoman as she rolled down and away as directed. Green weapons fire flashed past her port side, one bolt even smashing into her dorsal shields as whomever was firing tried to correct their aim.

“Shit, shields down to 83%,” Donna relayed as she checked her screens. “Where the hell did that come from. That wasn’t Borg weaponsfire.”

“I’m looking, I’m looking. Keep your panties on Chance,” Isel replied as she alternated scanning her screens and the debris field. Finally, something caught Isel’s eye in the debris field. There were enough Klingon vessels, or rather pieces of Klingon vessels, scattered throughout the field that it took the Vulpinian’s eyes a moment to track it down. Had she been wrong? No, there! “Chance, heads up. We’ve got a Klingon ship at our 2 o’clock. Lifesigns read as all Borg. That’s where the shots came from.”

“Great, even more to worry about,” Chance noted as she flipped into a corkscrew turn to take herself out of what she identified as a B’rel’s line of fire. In a way she had been lucky. If that shot had been from a K’vort, she’d be in a whole lot more trouble now as she glanced down to make sure her shields were regenerating.

“As if the Klingons and the Borg weren’t bad enough on their own!” Isel snarled as she rolled her fighter to the side, narrowly avoiding the B’rel’s second volley as it came around again. The disruptor bolts impacted the remains of a wing from another Bird-of-Prey, obliterating it and showering Isel’s shields with fragments of debris and shrapnel. 

“We have to report this, and what’s worse, we have to take it out,” Chance pointed out to her wingwoman as she dove down and away, trying to break free so that she could come about to take a shot at the B’rel. “You alright?”

“I’m ok,” Isel replied as she checked the status of her shields, “I got peppered with some debris, but my aft shields are holding at 94%.” 

“Good, see if you can get a read on its shield status while I report in.” Chance said as she adjusted her coms output. “Chance to all wolves. Be advised the Borg have commandeered at least one Klingon vessel and are using it against us. If there is one, there is probably more. Ravon, you might like to let Ops on the Theurgy know,” Chance called out over the squadron channel before flipping back. “What’s the news Foxfire?”

“Sensors show the B’rel’s shields are at 9 percent and climbing.” Isel called back, “10 percent. We’d better hit them fast if we want to have a chance.” "Not that our chances are that great to begin with," Isel added as a dark afterthought.

“Alright then,” Chance responded, her mind work as she dodged past more debris. Looking at her sensors, the B’rel was coming around again. "When it fires, break left. I’ll go right and whichever of us is not chased comes around and puts a pair of quantum torpedoes into its ass. Deal?”

“Copy that,” Isel acknowledged, rolling her fighter to port and weaving her way through the debris. She tried to manoeuvre so that any larger pieces of debris would be between her and the B’rel, hoping to take advantage of whatever cover she could find. A quick glance at her sensors told her that she was now the bait. “Oh good! Looks like the Borg have a thing for cute and furry too!” Isel said without a hint of enthusiasm, “Don’t miss, Donna!”

“I won’t,” Chance promised as she came around...something to see the Borg B’rel right in front of her. Swapping her weapon’s control to her quantum torpedos, Chance brought her fighter up behind the bird-of-prey. “14% shields, not enough,” Chance said to herself as she triggered off a pair of torpedoes, counting to 2 in between launches. Once they were on their way, she switched to her phaser cannons and bathed her target’s shields in light, draining their strength. 

The ship must have been pretty damaged from the battle already as the first torpedo’s detonation tore a large chunk out of the B’rel’s starboard wing as the majority of the blast penetrated the shield. The second torpedo finished the job as it impacted the ventral side of the Bird-of-Prey, right below the impulse drive. Chance was forced to flinch and break away from the explosion.

“Scratch one Borg B’rel, Foxfire,” Chance announced to her wingmate.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!!” Came the Vulpinian’s frantic reply as she raced to manoeuvre her fighter out of the way of the “head” of the Bird-of-Prey, which had been hurled by the explosion and was bearing down on her. She managed to bank to starboard and slot her fighter through a narrow gap between two large chunks of debris just bare moments before the bridge of the Klingon vessel slammed into the two rolling pieces of space trash, erupting in one final burst of fire and destruction as it’s chase of the Vulpinian’s fighter ended. “Next time you get to be the bait,” Isel grumbled as she brought her Mk III about and moved to link back up with her Element Leader.

“Only if you’re the one doing the pouncing,” Chance joked, adrenaline flooding her system. “And before you say it, I didn’t sign up for this either.”

“Oh, great! First you drag me out to fight Borg Klingons, now you’re stealing my snarky comments too!” Isel continued to grumble as she scowled at her Valkyrie’s sensor readouts, “What’s next? Are you going to make me fly naked?” Isel’s scowl turned into a grin then as she realized what she was saying. “Don’t answer that...” she quickly added, not wanting to give Chance any ideas.

“It would be a waste of a good view,” Chance shot back, unable to resist. After checking her own screen, she was able to pinpoint the location of the Cayuga as it dashed through the debris field. “C’mon, let's get to the Cayuga.”

“Lead the way, Chance, I’ve got your back.” Isel called back, her mouth curling into a lop-sided grin as she moved her fighter into position as best she could, dodging the floating pieces of space junk that made up this damn debris field as she did so. “Sensors look clear, though that doesn’t mean much in this mess. Stay sharp, lover.”

“You too, lover,” Chance replied as she focused on the battle around her once again.

---

OOC: Objective 4 Cleared.

[LT. JG Alessia Garcia - Callsign “Angel” (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alessia_Garcia,_callsign_%22Angel%22) | Wolf 06 | Debris Field | Azure Nebula ]  Attn: @Havenborn @Stegro88 @Auctor Lucan @Nolan @Fife @Griff @Doc M.

As Alessia smoothly zipped her Valravn through the debris field, her eyes scanned the battlefield, spotting the large Borg Cube ahead of them, which to be fair wasn't exactly hard to miss as well as several Klingon vessels, her eyes briefly following the exchange of green weapons fire and red illuminations of Klingon Torpedoes as they streaked across space even as her eyes glanced at her HUD every few seconds.

Smiling under her helmet she already knew she wanted to take on that Cube and blast a hole in it however her excitement was cut short when Ghost's voice came over the Comm proclaiming she'd already done just that and cursed under her breath, how'd she even manage to get over there?. Well at least she could make the hole bigger, that was something at least, her thought interrupted when she heard Ghost curse, either something had gone wrong badly wrong or she had to dodge something, either way it sounded bad.

Looking out of her window she couldn't see Ghost and a glance at her HUD wasn't picking her up either, too much interference from the debris filed. "Fuck!" she cursed, knowing she was little she could do at the moment but hopefully one of the others would get a bead on her if she was in trouble. At least she could pick up where her fellow Wolf had left off and make that hole even wider.

However just as she was about to plot an intercept course Havenborn came over the comm and told her to stay on his wing. Glancing at her HUD when his coordinates were sent over she couldn't believe what she was seeing. "You've gotta be kidding me?" she muttered. Instead of going to punch a hole in a Borg Cube she was going to have to help rescue a Klingon escape pod???  With a sigh she hit her console as she moved her fighter into position. "On your six Salvo."

Following Salvo she kept her eye on her HUD, frowning when she saw two Klingon ships break off and head towards them on an intercept course. "Angel to Salvo, we've got a  Klingon ship inbound on an attack vector, you grab the Pod, we'll deal with them."

Breaking away slightly from her position, she placed her ship between Salvo's fighter and the approaching Klingons, her finger hovering over the trigger of her controls.

"Fury open a channel to the Klingon ship."

She could hear the beeps from his console behind her as he worked the controls "Channel Open, can't promise you they'll respond but they will hear you."

Nodding Alessia took a breath before speaking "This is Lieutenant Alessia Garcia to approaching Klingon vessel, we're attempting to rescue one of your escape pod, call off your attack run, I repeat we're attempting to rescue your people, stand down."

After several moments of silence with no reply even as the ships advanced, Alessia muted the comm so that she could speak to her RIO "They can still hear us right?"

From behind her Fury glanced down at his console and nodded "Oh yeah they can hear you, they're just...ignoring you...but they are Klingons sooo...." He replied.

WIth a half sigh, half growl Alessia unmuted herself as her finger lightly started squeezing the trigger on her phasers, just incase she would need to start shooting. "There's no honor in attacking someone trying to aid a fellow warrior even if they are on opposite sides of the battle. So if you want to shoot us then go head but if we all die here I know I'll be making it to Sto'vo'Kor with my honour intact, could you say the same?"

Another brief moment of silence passed before Fury's console beeped and he chuckled. "Well that got their attention, they're responding, audio only."

"This is Captain Korrvis of the IKS Black Fang, you talk a big game petaQ...but you speak the truth nor is there any challenge in destroying your puny little fighters, not where there is a bigger threat to destroy. Instruct your fellow pilot to tow the pod into transporter range and we will beam the survivors aboard but do not think this makes us allies Starfleet Dog only a temporary truce, Korrvis out."

"Yeah whatever you need to tell yourself Pendejo." Alessia muttered as the channel closed before opening another one to Salvo "Angel to Salvo, I managed to negotiate a somewhat truce with the approaching Klingons you're free to rescue the pod without having to worry about them, they want you to tow the pod into transporter range and they'll beam the survivors aboard...but that doesn't mean they won't open fire the second they have them so be ready, we've got you covered incase they try anything." she said as she made sure to keep her fighter between them, her weapons trained on the Klingon ship, much like they still had their trained on her.

 

[ Tessa May Lance, callsign:  Goldeneye (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tessa_May_Lance,_callsign_%22Goldeneye%22) | Cockpit | AC-409 Mk III Valkyrie | Ithacae System ]

Goldeneye and Bloodwing dodged the floating detritus, bobbing, weaving, rising, and falling in an attempt to stay in formation and close the distance between them and the Borg cube.  So much information on obstacles were coming through the Heads Up Display in Tessa’s helmet, that she decided to ignore the hazy blue view out of her cockpit window and concentrate on her instruments.  They were still in formation as they reached “the front lines” the cluster of Klingon ships in various states of functionality, identifiable by their power signatures.  Coming into clarity was the power signature of the Cayuga; apparently the Iroquois-class starship was still intact and functional.  All they had to do was get through the decimated Klingon battlegroup and go around the corner of that massive Borg cube to reach it and…

”Augh!” Tessa cried as a the burning wreckage of what used to be a B’rel class Bird-of-Prey came out of the debris field.  Evelyn Rawley, callsign “Ghost” had already managed to dodge it and now it was Goldeneye and Bloodwing’s turn.  The diamond formation was broken and now it was every pilot and their wingman for themselves. 

There was just so much to avoid!  Tessa didn’t know how she was going to make a difference out here, there was just so much out there, even with a computer that was faster than a RIO.  Sooner or later she was going to…

She jerked forward in her seat, pushing against the flight restraints holding her in place despite the inertial dampeners installed in her cockpit.  An eerie green light filled her cockpit and illuminated the exterior of her Valkyrie.  ”Eep!  What’s going on?” she squeaked as she glanced about helplessly before noticing the warning on her Heads Up Display.  ”A tractor beam?  Oh no!  They’re going to take me alive!” 

Blinded by panic, Tessa overrode the safety overrides and set her thrusts and impulse drive to maximum.  Nothing.  Not even an increasing vibration. She was being pulled through the debris field at a leisurely pace and there was nothing she could do about it.  At least the tractor beam seemed to be clearing a path for her. 

Grasping at straws, Tessa decided to call for help.  ”Goldeneye to Bloodwing, I’m caught in a tractor beam and I’m stuck fast!  Please if there’s anything you can do, help me!”

---

OOC:  Objective Six, check!

[ Lt Cmdr Thomas 'Razor' Ravon | Kestrel | Heart of the Azure Nebula | Debris field ]
@Auctor Lucan

As the flight formed up on Thomas' wing he looked around and just gazed over the shitstorm they found themselves in. The debris would provide enough cover if they flew smart enough and keeping up with the formation in the field would be suicidal. Gritting his teeth Thomas looked at the cube and at the Cayuga in the distance "Razor to all elements, break formation and continue to work your way to the Cayuga. If you spot anything that you can kill, disable or save, take it. Good hunting." he voiced out before he watched the fighters peel off in groups of two. He looked at Ghost yet before he could actually say anything to her she already voiced out her plan and broke away.

Ravon shook his head as he was forced to follow his wingwoman yet he kept a distance from her to make sure she'd be fine from any hostiles in her wake. He could see some logic in her words yet he warned her "I think we're better off hitting her as a group then alone." though it was of no use as the woman was as stubborn as a brick. He kept up with her flying and evaded the oncoming debris before he had to break away as Rawley got closer to the Borg cube. "Fuck... Razor to Rawley, I'm no longer on your tail." he saw Klingon warbird pieces all around him now and his HUD showed a warning as he came close to undetonated ordinance of the warbird. He hightailed it out of there as he looked at the cube that was awfully close now. He could see the signal of Ghost closing in before the explosion of her strike became apparent. It made him smirk slightly, yet left him with a bitter taste in his mouth as the cube launched torpedoes onto Rawley.

He rushed his way to her position before he got word from her. It was a typical Rawley response yet she cut out and he saw the two hefty explosions of the Borg's gravimetric torpedoes. He cursed as he began to fly more dangerously, pieces of debric scraping along the hull and lighting up his shield as he finally got eyes on Ghost. Her fighter spinning out of control and barely hitting any debris in the way. "Got yourself in a pickle again eh?" he called out to her on a private channel before he roared over her fighter and cleared a good way ahead of her with his phasers.

"You'll never learn will you." he scolded at her as he locked on to her before using the tractor beam as a tow to help her regain control in his wake "I can't save your pretty ass every five second Ev. I expect you to be better." he answered her, knowing it would undoubtedly piss her off yet hopefully get her head more into the game. "Now form up and follow my lead. We need a bigger hole."

It was a chance they had to take now before the cube would adapt to their fire. Rawley had already given it a taste, so they had to strike now while they had the time. Any longer postponing would result in a negative outcome to whatever they threw at the cube.

[PO3 Lillee t’Jellaieu (Callsign: Bloodwing) (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Lillee_t%27Jellaieu) | Wolf 08 | Debris Field | Azura Nebula] Attn: @Doc M.

[Show/Hide]
The flight through the cluttered battlefield was a chaotic, terrifying ordeal, and it was driving Lillee to her limit as she flew up, over and around in a wild evasion course. She was barely able to keep an eye on Goldeneye, never mind the rest of the squadron, and worse, Lillee was learning her fighter as she flew. The Valkyrie was twitchy, its controls oversensitive to her touch, its impulse engine more worn than the Valkyrie she had flown in test flights all those months ago, not quite capable of the same acceleration. There were so many variables that Lillee's mind soon simply switched off, flying by sheer instinct in the awful morass of battle. She barely avoided a photon torpedo more from luck than judgement, not even knowing whether it had been fired by the Theurgy or the Klingons.

The burning wreck of the Bird of Prey finally did it. Seeing the threat far too late, Lillee could only flick into a desperate roll as she accelerated, flying blindly right through a flaming hole in the shell of the broken Klingon warship, bursting out the outside like a bullet. She instinctively glanced at her shields, saw that they had been depleted to 34% under the barrage of superheated fire and smaller debris, and hissed in frustration as she continued the insane obstacle course before finally passing into relative safety outside the worst of it. The immense mass of the Borg cube still hung barely five kilometers away, firing weapons relentlessly from all sides, seemingly invincible, but that was fine; Lillee didn't want to go anywhere near that thing again, instead aiming at the much smaller USS Cayuga.

Then her comm activated, a familiar voice crying out in a mix of fear and desperation.

"Goldeneye to Bloodwing, I'm caught in a tractor beam and I'm stuck fast!  Please if there's anything you can do, help me!"

Lillee jerked in shock, realising that she'd lost her wingmate in the close call with the Klingon wreck, and she instinctively flipped her bird around to begin accelerating back the way she'd come, back towards the Borg cube, trying to find Goldeneye. But where could she...there!

"I see you Goldeneye," she muttered, too deep in her battle trance for emotion to cloud her voice. She briefly considered trying a lone strike on the cube itself, to destroy the tractor emitter, but realised that such a precise strike would be impossible in this cluttered mess of a battlefield. Even hitting ten meters to either side of the emitter wouldn't be enough to destroy it, even assuming her weapons did anything to that monster. So...

Taking a deep breath, Lillee felt her focus laser in as she descended yet further into her battle trance. She opened her impulse throttle as wide as she dared, zooming back through the maze with insane speed, trusting to luck, instinct and skill to keep her alive as she navigated the lethal maze of debris, phaser beams and torpedoes. However, Lillee's objective wasn't her captured wingmate. Instead, she aimed her Valkyrie much closer to the Borg cube, only a kilometer away from the monster.

"Goldeneye, go to max accel now," she muttered in her helmet, the debris and bright weapons fire almost a blur outside her cockpit.  Closing near the base of the shimmering green tractor beam, so much more dense and narrow that close to the cube, she flew right through the tractor beam at an obscene velocity. The impact of sudden deceleration was brutal, causing Lillee's vision to darken at the huge G forces as her inertial dampeners struggled to compensate, but she flicked to starboard blindly anyway, away from the cube.

The feeling as her Valkyrie responded to her touch, its impulse engine throbbing mightily, confirming that she'd been going fast enough not to get caught in the tractor beam, made Lillee scream in wild ecstasy, her battle trance broken by the insane, exhilarating maneuver.

"Goldeneye!" she called out as she flung her bird back around through the debris field, aimed again at the far off Cayuga. "Are you free!?"

[ Tessa May Lance, callsign:  Goldeneye (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tessa_May_Lance,_callsign_%22Goldeneye%22) | Cockpit | AC-409 Mk III Valkyrie | Ithacae System ]  Attn: Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Nolan @Stegro88 @Fife @Havenborn @Griff @Kinvarus

”Goldeneye to Bloodwing, I’m caught in a tractor beam and I’m stuck fast!  Please if there’s anything you can do, help me!” Tessa squeaked.

Her gloved hands played over her control panel.  ”Forward thrust, inoperative, warp drive not responding, safety interlocks preventing torpedoes from firing, shields…” she blinked beneath her helmet as she saw her shields drain away right before her eyes.  Her training left her as she closed her eyes and waved her hands before her and let out a panicked scream.  ”Aaaah!”

[ I see you Goldeneye, ] Lillee’s disembodied voice mumbled almost too quiet to be heard.

”Huh?” Tessa blinked.  ”Bloodwing!  Quickly, you’ve got to hurry!”

[ Goldeneye, go to max accel now, ] Lillee instructed.

”What?” Tessa’s mind was momentarily blank.  ”All right!” she gasped as she ran her fingers across the LRCS panels in front of her.  ”Putting everything into forward thrust now!”

This was the moment.  Any second now Lillee would use her tractor beam to push some debris into the tractor beam and Tessa would…

But that wasn’t what Lillee did at all.  Incredibly, Tessa saw a metallic blur zip behind her and then she was pushed back in her chair as the Valkyrie’s inertial compensator tried to account for the sudden thrust.

[ Goldeneye! ] Lillee’s voice exclaimed over the comm system.  [ Are you free!? ]

As Tessa’s fighter zoomed on an erratic and nearly out of control course through the debris and the battle raging in the Ithacae System, the only reply Lillee got back was a high-pitched ”AAAAAAAAH!”

---

OOC:  Objective Seven, done!

[ LT Daniel Havenborn, Callsign: Salvo | Cockpit | AC-307 Mark-II Valkyrie “Hellcat”] Attn: @Nolan, @Multificionado, @Doc M., @Stegro88, @patches, @Fife, @Auctor Lucan, @Griff, @Kinvarus

“Tractor beam prepped Salvo.”  Daniel heard from behind him, he was closing in on the escape pod when he heard Angel inform him of a Klingon ship that had vectored towards them.  It seemed that the Klingons would be living up to their reputation of being barbarians; hopefully Angel would be able to delay them long enough so that he could rescue the escape pod.  As she broke from his wing to confront the Klingons; Daniel throttled his engines as best he could to try and get closer to the pod that was drifting towards to the Borg cube.  Although it occurred to him that he’d have to slow down to lock onto the pod, so he quickly did the math in his head and calculated what he needed to do, then he input the information into the ship’s computer.  “Knight, keep an eye on the power.”  Daniel said as he got an affirmative from his RIO.

They were gaining on the pod, another hundred meters and they’d be there, and that was when he received another communication from Angel.  “Understood Angel.”  He replied as he locked onto the pod, seventy-five more meters.  “Knight, prep the thrusters for tractor tow.”  He said as they closed in.  Fifty meters left.  “Got it Salvo, thrusters prepped and ready on your mark.”  Knight said from behind him.  “I do want to remind you that this is how Apex was killed.”  Knight said.  “I know.”  Daniel said as he remembered the incident.  He had studied the maneuver a thousand times since Lieutenant Grant’s death and he knew for a fact that it was pilot error.  Daniel would not make the same mistake that his former SCO had made and he would succeed where his mentor had failed.

Only another twenty-five meters until Daniel reached the escape pod.  He could see the Borg cube and his HUD continued to display the other Lone Wolves as they maneuvered around the battlefield.  As he closed the distance with the escape pod he activated the tractor beam, he watched the bluish-white energy beam connect with the pod and he immediately throttled his engines to full power, He could feel the ship tremble from the maneuvering turn he just pulled and the added mass of the escape pod that he was now towing.  “Power steady, tractor beam holding.”  Knight said behind him.  He set his course for the Klingon vessel that Angel was watching.  “Salvo to Angel, as soon as I disengage my tractor beam we’ll head straight for the Cayuga and rejoin with the rest of the squadron.”  He said, hopefully the Klingons wouldn’t give chase and worry more about rescuing their comrades.

Daniel heard Angel’s confirmation and kept closing in on the Klingon Bird of Prey.  “Think the Klingons will fire on us?”  Knight asked him.  “For their sake, I hope not.  Hopefully they’ll recognize that the ordnance we’re carrying could seriously fuck them over, ordnance that we mean to deliver to the Borg.”  Daniel replied.  “Let’s hope so.”  Knight said.  Daniel began to calculate how far the escape pod he was towing could drift; he began to slowly make small course corrections.  His goal was to aim the escape pod so that it could drift towards the Klingon ship giving him and Angel enough time to withdraw and avoid a confrontation with the Klingons.  As much as he wanted some revenge on them for their bullshit, first with Drex and then with Martok; he knew that the Borg was a larger threat and they needed to be dealt with immediately.  He didn’t want to have to waste his ordnance on the Klingons, ordnance that he meant to deliver to the Borg as soon as he got the chance.

As Daniel closed in on Angel’s wing he turned ever so slightly and disengaged the tractor beam.  He watched as the escape pod drifted towards the Klingon Bird of Prey and opened a channel to Angel.  “Salvo to Angel, our work here is done.”  Daniel said as he turned his fighter towards the Cayuga and the rest of the squadron, hopefully now they could deal with the Borg and worry about the Klingons later.

----------------------------------------
OOC:  Objective 3 complete.

(https://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/6/64/Ep05--Cinsaj.png) (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/6/64/Ep05--Cinsaj.png)

[ 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) | Heart of the Azure Nebula ] Attn:
^{@Nolan @Stegro88 @Fife @Havenborn @Doc M. @Griff @Kinvarus}
[Show/Hide]Father, this can't be real. Green eyes blinked behind a black visor. I heard what those on the Endeavour said, but I couldn't believe their words. Not truly... Of course I didn't think they lied, but at the same time... hearing about something and seeing it with your own eyes is never quite the same, is it?

Despite what they had seen on the Cinsaj's advanced sensors a minute earlier, Devyrie Okhala could hardly credit her eyes when the AC-507 Mk I Reaver dropped out of warp in front of the nightmarish debris field. She sucked a breath through her teeth, seated between PO Mickayla and Lieutenant Drake, confirming all that which their sensor array had told them. Lone Wolves in the field, the Theurgy lambasted by Borg disruptor fire and gravimetric torpedoes.. Several Klingon ships in orbit around the monolithic cube, their weapons fire useless since the cube had already adapted. Countless more shredded and tumbling through the particle clouds of the nebula. And somewhere, on the far side, another Federation starship, designated the USS Cayuga.

Devyrie, she imagined she heard her father say. You must keep moving.

Father, I... have not flown this ship before. And Laurel. She... I am sorry.

Keep moving. Aurum's words always helped her focus. Even then. Save your tears.

Devyrie clenched her teeth together, and wrapped her gloved grip around the impulse throttle. "Keep moving..." she hissed silently, and she rammed the throttle forward. Her emerald eyes were slits behind the visor, and she overshot the Theurgy by a mere fivehundred meters as she engaged the cube. She was not about to let Terror, Sniper, Catscratch or Angel die out there. Nor the rest of her new pack. Not when she was in a cockpit. "Mickayla, Gideon. I can't have you in here if I am to fly this thing properly. I am going to request a beam-out from the Theurgy, understood?"

While the Reaver was a large bird, the armoured cockpit was not quite made for two additional passengers, and she didn't have full range of movement. Whatever they might say, she had to announce her presence to the pack and to Mission Ops. "Reaver-Zero-One to Mission Ops, over! This is Dragon, Lieutenant Okhala! Two abductees and I have reclaimed this Reaver from the Savi, and I am rejoining the Lone Wolves. Status on the Savi ship, unknown. Copy?" She switched the frequency to the Squadron channel, one which was already installed in the Reaver since the Battle of Starbase 84. "Reaver-Zero-One to Wolf Leader. Commander Ravon, do you copy? This is Dragon, and I'm engaging the Borg cube in wait for further orders, over!"

There were replies, but the fight on the Savi dreadnought's shuttle bay might have done something to the comm array, since there was too much static. She could barely make out anything. "This is Dragon. I have audibility zero here, over!"

The next thing she saw, while speeding into the debris field, was the IFF:s of Valravn fighters defending the Theurgy's scoutship on the port side of the debris field, but they were not IFF:s from White Wolves she expected. Meerkat? Scylla, Wraith and Blizzard? They never came aboard the Theurgy. What is going on? I can see Angel out there, but what about the rest?

She was still alive. Alessia Garcia. Whatever may have happened, Angel was alive. It irked her to no end that she couldn't make out what anyone was saying out there.

Keep moving, she heard her father say while she tried to find a direct link to a ETS channel Transporter Room on the Theurgy. Her green eyes spotted something directly ahead, however, and she had to abandon the attempt. Even if she couldn't hear anyone, she had to continue talking in case it was only on her end. "This is Dragon, that Negh'Var battleship was just caught by one of the cube's tractor beams! I have a clear trajectory, so I will break it free, over!"

She had a kilometer to go, and she armed her strange weapon systems, hardly even knowing which was which. Bargherst, something. While she still could, she spoke to her present company in the cockpit. "I can't reach the Theurgy right now, so you're in for the ride. Hold on and try not to get in my way in here, okay?" She prepared to lay waste to the area where the tractor beam emitter was at... only something completely unforeseen happened.

All of a sudden, as if flipping a switch somewhere, something happened to the cube's adaptive shield matrix. Because without explanation, all the ordnance that the surviving Klingon ships sent towards the cube bit straight through its shields. Soundless, fiery clouds burst from the immense surface of the cube, and the IKS Negh'Var battleship was freed by one of its own ships before Devyrie could. What just happened?

"This is Dragon to all Lone Wolves. Your audibility is still zero, but did you all see that? It seems the cube's shields are down, at least for now. Razor, I suggest any available fighters concentrate fire on the cube now, over."

Said and done, she took a deep breath, and pushed her thumbs down, making her Reaver carve deep furrows into the cube, her speed and flying keeping her just ahead of the disruptor beams.

And she never stopped moving.

---

OOC: Devyrie can be heard, but she only gets static back, being unresponsive. In your next posts, should your characters try to fire on the cube prior to the IKS Negh'Var being freed by a fellow Klingon ship, they would have found that the cube's shield matrix had adapted. However, after Devyrie's squadron announcement about the effects of the Soup Sandwich virus fallout (see Storm Glass, CV's posts with Trent) they will find the cube entirely unprotected, and the Klingon fleet is biting chunks out of it for the time being. The Cayuga is still ten kilometers away from the cube, and the debris is more dense on that side. Here are brand new Battle Objectives to illustrate in your upcoming posts! Again, please check off one objective each, and you still have full liberty in setting up details. Here we go! [Show/Hide]

[ Tessa May Lance, callsign:  Goldeneye (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tessa_May_Lance,_callsign_%22Goldeneye%22) | Cockpit | AC-409 Mk III Valkyrie | Ithacae System ]  Attn: Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Nolan @Arista @Stegro88 @Fife @Havenborn @Griff @Kinvarus

”AAAAAAAAH!” Tessa screamed as her fighter zoomed on through space at speeds too fast for the debris filled Ithacae System.  She managed to soar over a huge chunk of rock, dive underneath a damaged K’vort class cruiser, dart to the port to avoid a venerable K’tinga class battlecruiser that had been refit to serve as a destroyer, and jink to the starboard around the wreckage of a B’rel class scout.  She had to slow down or she’d collide with a something in this cursed system, natural or Klingon made.  Desperately, she activated her braking thrusters, hoping that she wouldn’t cause her Valkyrie to go into a lethal spin. 

Incredibly, she managed to stop herself, only rotating one hundred and eighty degrees as she did so.  From out of the brown and bluish haze came a brilliant light.  Tessa screamed as her Head’s Up Display revealed that the Borg cube had fired a salvo of gravimetric torpedoes right towards her!

There was no time for shock or disbelief; Tessa had to react now.  In desperation, she fired her tetryon pulse phase cannon while using her tractor beam to jerk the flaming wreckage of the B’rel class in front of her so that it would take the brunt of the impact.  The explosion sent her fighter spinning out of control and straight towards the main hull of the USS Cayuga, the starship the squadron had been trying to reach in the first place.  

A tractor beam shot out of the Cayuga’s saucer and reduced her momentum to zero.  It then released her and Tessa watched in numb incredulity, as the long range explorer passed over her and revealed just how tiny her Valk was compared to the Cayuga’s hull.  The Borg hadn’t been firing at her; those torpedoes were meant for the Cayuga.  Somehow Tessa had ended up directly on the torpedoes route and between her tetryon pulse phase cannon and her tractor beam she had caused enough of the debris floating through the Ithacae System to bounce around like billiard balls and intercept the gravimetric torpedoes and make them detonate prematurely.  It had been a trillion to one shot, and somehow Tessa had made it.  She hoped if she survived this battle no one asked her how she had done it because there was no way she could give them an answer.

---

OOC:  Battle Objective Seven, Check!

[ Lt Cmdr Thomas 'Razor' Ravon | Kestrel | Heart of the Azure Nebula | Debris field ]
 @Auctor Lucan @Triage @Havenborn @Doc M. @Stegro88 @Fife @Griff @Kinvarus

Once Rawley recovered from her sticky situation she was all too eager to form up on Razor's wing to sink her fangs into the cube once more. The two fighters moved almost in sync as they evaded and closed their distance to the Borg cube. The eyes of Ravon narrowed as they closed in on their target before a Bird of Prey soared past their front, moving away from the cube "What the fuck!" Rawley cursed out as she had to maneuver herself out of it's flight path. Both pilots followed the ship and it's trajectory onto to realize it was heading straight for the Cayuga.

"Fucking hell..." Thomas muttered as he peeled off the attack pattern that was set for the Cube and began his chase with the Klingon ship. Scans showed zero non-Borg life signs and he opened a link to Rawley "Ghost, if you'd be so kind to pepper that ship with some ordinance. She's heading for the Cayuga, probably assimilated." Rawley confirmed and lead the chase as Thomas followed on her tail. He multi tasked and checked on the whereabouts of his fellow pilots. All of them miraculously still seemed alive and perhaps this was a turning point. The shields of the Bird of Prey lit up as Rawley opened fire and it didn't take long before it returned fire. Rawley managed to peel away the last layer of the aft shields before she had to break off and Thomas got a clear shot. Two well placed quantum torpedoes were launched out of the torpedo boxes and the impact caused for a rain of debris a few dozens of kilometers short of the Cayuga.

"You stole that kill from me Razor, you better pay up when we get back!" Was Rawley's semi aggressive comment to him and the SCO could only chuckle and laugh "You should've finish up when you have the chance Ev." he teased her before he turned his ship around and sped off back to the cube "Come on, lets go do what we were here for in the first place." he grinned as he had his eyes on the prize once more.

On his way over to the cube he suddenly heard a crackling static on his audio feed and when he could tune it slightly more he heard the voice of no one else then Devyrie Okhala. "What the..." he muttered before he listened closely.

"Reaver-Zero-One to Wolf Leader. Commander Ravon, do you copy? This is Dragon, and I'm engaging the Borg cube in wait for further orders, over!"

"Dragon this is Razor. Proceed with caution and form up on me as I'm doing a run on the ship myself. Do you copy? Over."

None of it seemed to get through as he heard her not confirm to his request and it didn't take long before he heard why. "This is Dragon. I have audibility zero here, over!" Razor had experience with that problem far too often and he looked at the Reaver as it finally popped up on his sensor feed. He warned Rawley that they'd take a slight detour to try and catch up with the Reaver in order to visually get contact with Devyrie. Perhaps low band Fm, yet they needed to get closer.

As they closed in evading and firing their way through the debris the battle kept raging on at full speed. Explosions on multiple Klingon ships were seen as well as the destruction of them by ships of their own which were undoubtedly assimilated. It could be the other way around as well though as Klingon ships might have wiped out lost ship in order to keep their ranks from diminishing.

Ravon and Rawley noticed the strange phenomenon as well though when the Klingon fleet's weaponry suddenly seemed to get through the adaptive shields of the Borg. Which was odd, yet perhaps a gift from whomever was out there. The explosions and chunks of the cube were real and Dragon reported it in as well.

"This is Dragon to all Lone Wolves. Your audibility is still zero, but did you all see that? It seems the cube's shields are down, at least for now. Razor, I suggest any available fighters concentrate fire on the cube now, over."

It was a good suggestion and it took Ravon a split second to react "All wolves, divert all attention to the Cube. Weapons free. It looks like she's down on shields so make every single shot count! Lance, you seem like you're pretty much on top of the Cayuga, maintain position and cover it from there. Razor out." he opened up a link to the Theurgy as well "Ops for Razor, Borg shields seem down. Wolves are moving in for a full engagement. Any support would be appreciated."

Rawley and Ravon raced to the cube as if it was the finish line of a ten legged race. Their weapons arming up as their quantum, photon and hellbore torpedoes were just itching to widen the hole which Rawley had already made.

---

OOC: Objective 1 and 2 checked.

[LT. JG Alessia Garcia - Callsign “Angel” (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alessia_Garcia,_callsign_%22Angel%22) | Wolf 06 | Debris Field | Azure Nebula ]  Attn: @Havenborn @Stegro88 @Auctor Lucan @Nolan @Fife @Griff @Doc M.

Alessia's fingers hovered over her controls, as she watched Salvo begin towing the ship out of danger, her gaze occasionally glancing over to the Klingon ships wondering if they were going to be true to their word, although she was a little skeptical it wouldn't be honorable for them to go back on their word so she probably didn't have anything to worry about.

"Salvo to Angel, as soon as I disengage my tractor beam we'll head straight for the Cayuga and rejoin with the rest of the squadron." came the message from her fellow pilot. After acknowledging his instruction, Angel plotted a course for the Cayuga and prepered to take off towards it once Salvo had released the ship.

Once the ship was safely out of danger and Salvo had joined her on her wing she smiled under her helmet "Great job Salvo, heading towards the Cayuga now."

As she and Salvo headed towards their objective she observed the battle through the window as they went, watching the phaser fire being exchanged between familar Federation, Klingon and Borg weapons and silently hoped that all the people on their side were doing okay. As they manouvered through various debris and the odd bout of weapons fire, Alessia noticed a new contact pop up on her HUD and frowned.

"Now who or what is that?" She wondered mostly to herself as her ships sensors eventually tagged the target with a Federation signature, although given her current status along with the rest of the Theurgy unlike in the past a Federation signature in a battle didn't necessarily mean a friendly, although hopefully that would be true in this case, as they already have enough to deal with as it was. She would get her answer pretty quickly however when the comm came to life with a voice she most certainly wasn't expecting...

"This is Dragon to all Lone Wolves. Your audibility is still zero, but did you all see that? It seems the cube's shields are down, at least for now. Razor, I suggest any available fighters concentrate fire on the cube now, over."

"Dev?" Alessia whispered softly in surprise before chuckling and shaking her head, relieved that her friend was not only alive but had managed to escape from her captors, not that she was completely surprised by that, Dev was a strong woman after all.

"I knew she'd make it!" Fury said from his spot behind her and Alessia nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I did too, the fact she can't hear any of us though is less good though but she can handle it and we'll deal. Great news about the Cube's shields though, we're going to have to hit it with everything we have and the sooner the better." Alessia replied as she continued to manouver the Valravn through the battlefield.

No sooner had she said it that Razor issued the order for all Wolves to close in and give the Cube all they had. Altering their course with a sharp turn, Angel danced her fighter through more debris and keyed up her weapons, the Hellbore's on her wings were ready to go, torpedoes were loaded into the tubes, phasers were primed and ready and the targeting computer was locking onto the Cube and several of it's secondary systems.

After dodging several green phaser streaks from the Cube, she pulled the trigger, unleashing her Hellbore's towards the cube, each missile detaching from her wings and whizzing across the black of space towards their target, impacting against the larger ship with two massive explosions, the orange/red/yellow firey mix of colors a vast contrast to the dark grey and green combination of the Borg.

Banking to her right, Angel switched her weapon systems to her torpedo launchers and programmed them for a high yield detonation, planning on sending the torpedos right into the spot her Hellborne's had hit, but had to curse under her breath and bank hard to the left in order to avoid one of the Cube's torpedoes that had been fired her way.

Turning the fighter around she kept one eye on the battle outside her window as the other watched her HUD, waiting for the ship's systems to confirm their target lock and fired her torpedos the second the HUD turned green and couldn't help but smirk under her helmet when her torpedos hit their mark, the hole her Hellborne's had tore into the Cube now twice as big as it had been a second ago. Her celebration was short lived however as Fury spoke up from behind her.

"Angel we have a problem, sensors have picked up an assimilated Vorcha class, no non-Borg lifesigns...it's right on Devyrie's tail, from the looks of it she hasn't spotted it yet." Fury said.

"Fuck." Angel cursed as she glanced at the sensor readouts on her HUD. "Angel to Razor, Dragon's got a hostile on her ass that she hasn't spotted, I've already unleashed my heavy payload on the Cube so I'm going to break off and give her a hand." She informed their leader over the Comm as she broke away from the cube, plotting an intercept course for the Vorcha class.

"Fury any ideas on how we can contact Dev so that she can hear us?" Alessia asked as her fighter danced through the battlefield.

Fury remained quiet for a few moments as he thought before speaking up "We could try using a low band FM frequency instead of subspace, it's possible that whatever is causing her problem is only affecting high band subspace frequencies. There's no way to know for sure if it will work but it's the only thing that springs to mind."

"It's worth a shot, do it." Angel said as she saw the Reaver class ahead of her, her own Valravn heading straight towards it, almost as if the two ships were playing a game of chicken with the other.

"I'll need a few seconds to recalibrate." Fury replied as his fingers danced over his console, keying in the necessary commands. "Got it, give it a try" He announced after several more seconds as he opened a comm channel to Devyrie's ship.

"Angel to Dragon, I hope you can hear this chica because you've got an assimilated Vorcha class right behind that pretty ass of yours." She said with humor in her voice "Don't worry though, Fury and I have you covered." she added as her Valravn shot over the top of Dev's Reaver, beginning a straifing run on the now Borg controlled Klingon vessel.

---

OOC: Objective 6 checked

[ Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Wolf 03 | Debris Field | Azure Nebula ] Attn: @Fife
[Show/Hide]

The Cube hung like a looming angel of death above everything happening around it, wreckage and debris both shielding it from direct attack while also preventing it from easily attacking the craft harrying it. No simulator or training mission at the academy could prepare you for flying through the area around the aperture.

“It’s getting messy here Foxfire. Stay close,” Chance called to her wingwoman as she rolled around the remains of a K’vort. As she straightened up, she had to instantly break to the right as a Vor’cha soared past, its disruptors firing at the cube. “Fuck me. Now the friendlies are a danger. You ok four?” Chance asked. When no reply was immediately forthcoming, she looked down at her screen while calling out again. “Foxfire, respond?”

The channel was still open but something was blocking or interfering with the signal. Looking around, Chance could see no sign of her wingmate; not that she had time for an extensive look as the dodged and weaved her way through the debris.

“Foxfire, if you can hear me, rally at the Cayuga,” Chance directed as she adjusted her heading. They had been headed for the starship when they had been separated and the pilot could only continue with the mission; searching for her Vulpinian lover would be next to impossible at this time. “Fuck!”

"Reaver-Zero-One to Wolf Leader. Commander Ravon, do you copy? This is Dragon, and I'm engaging the Borg cube in wait for further orders, over!"

“Reaver? Dragon?” Chance wondered, splitting her attention ever so slightly as she listened to Razor try to reach Dragon, who apparently could send but not receive transmissions. She remembered a pilot with the callsign Dragon from the intelligence briefings. She was a Romulan/Human hybrid.... “Hybrid! Weren’t all the hybrids from the Theurgy kidnapped? Where’d she come from?”

"This is Dragon to all Lone Wolves. Your audibility is still zero, but did you all see that? It seems the cube's shields are down, at least for now. Razor, I suggest any available fighters concentrate fire on the cube now, over."

"All wolves, divert all attention to the Cube. Weapons free. It looks like she's down on shields so make every single shot count!” came SCO’s orders a moment later. “Lance, you seem like you're pretty much on top of the Cayuga, maintain position and cover it from there. Razor out." 

“Well, orders are orders and hopefully Isel heard them too,” Chance thought as she banked around a K’Tinga to line up on the cube. A B’rel dropped down in front of her and Chance decided to accept the help, intended or not. “I’ll just follow in your shadow, Mr Klingon. Your shields are better than mine. And if you can fit through the gaps, so can I.”

The B’rel opened fire a moment later and Chance switched over to her Hellbores. As the B’rel levelled out again, Chance dropped beneath it, clearing her line of fire long enough to launch both of the oversized torpedoes at the cube. As she pulled back up behind the B’rel again, her sensors beeped and she glanced down to check them.

“Sirillium huh, and headed right for the cube,” Chance noted as she stayed behind the Bird-of-Prey. “That ought to make quite the sizeable bang.... SHITT!!!”

Directly ahead of her, a Borg gravimetric torpedo collided with the B’rel and detonated. With no choice, Chance had to fly through the rapidly expanding wreckage of her recent ally. But there wasn’t enough space. Her port wingtip clipped something and multiple warnings began to chime off in her helmet.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Chance cursed repeatedly as she worked at her controls. The collision had knocked out her port impulse drive and jammed her starboard one, sending her into a flat spin through space. Unable to adjust it, Chance shut the jammed engine down as well before attempting to restart both. “FUCK!” she screamed again when neither would activate.

A shadow fell over her cockpit and Chance looked up to see the Cube looming ever closer; she was headed right for it. And she had lost track of where that sirillium cloud had gone. What if she drifted through it? Or was already in it?

“Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is Wolf-03. I have lost main power and am adrift on a collision course with the cube. Requesting assistance,” Donna called out, hoping at least someone in the squadron would hear her call. 

What she didn’t realise, as she worked to restart her engines, was that she was still transmitting on her element channel.

Only one person would be able to hear her.

---

OOC: Objectives 3 & 4 Completed.

[PO3 Lillee t’Jellaieu (Callsign: Bloodwing) (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Lillee_t%27Jellaieu) | Wolf 08 | Debris Field | Azura Nebula] Attn: @Auctor Lucan, @Doc M., @Stegro88, @Triage,

[Show/Hide]
It took a good few seconds for Lillee to find her wingmate again amidst the clutter of the battlefield, even as she herself tried to stay out of trouble. That was no small feat when an entire Klingon fleet, a Borg cube and the not inconsiderable Theurgy were all firing weapons in a mad frenzy of destruction while the Lone Wolves tried to thread the chaos. Finally, Lillee found her stricken wingmate: zooming on a collision course with the Cayuga, completely out of control.


Lillee was too far away to help her wingmate, the entire battlefield and the cube between them. She was reduced to watching, helpless, before seeing a tractor beam momentarily flare out from the Cayuga, snaring Goldeneye's Valkyrie and stopping her dead. It all happened in a matter of seconds, and Lillee let out a breath that she didn't know she'd been holding. That had been far, far too close.  The blossoming explosions behind Goldeneye hinted at just how close she and the Cayuga had come to destruction.

Lillee was only just starting to flip her fighter into a turn, to race back through the gauntlet of the battlefield to rejoin her wingmate at the Cayuga, when a sudden alarm on her HUD caught her by surprise: an incoming warp signature. An incoming Federation warp signature. An incoming Federation warp signature that was passing right by her.

"Fires burn me, what is that?" Lillee muttered to herself in disbelief as the mystery fighter decelerated out of warp and zipped past her, aimed right at the cube. It was an ugly beast, lacking the clean elegance of a Valkyrie or a Romulan starfighter, but it was clearly a Starfleet fighter. Then her own Valkyrie's computer seemed to catch up, attaching a label to the ugly brute: 'Cinsaj', Reaver-class. Friendly.

"This is Dragon to all Lone Wolves. Your audibility is still zero, but did you all see that? It seems the cube's shields are down, at least for now. Razor, I suggest any available fighters concentrate fire on the cube now, over."

"All wolves, divert all attention to the Cube. Weapons free. It looks like she's down on shields so make every single shot count! Lance, you seem like you're pretty much on top of the Cayuga, maintain position and cover it from there. Razor out."

Lillee's HUD updated, changing the mystery fighter's callsign to 'Dragon', and in her cockpit, Lillee bared her teeth as she flung her Valkyrie around to chase after Dragon at maximum acceleration, finally settling on Dragon's flank as she caught up. There was no time for a lengthy debate, no time to settle back into her calm battle trance, no time to rejoin Goldeneye. Dragon needed a wingman and Razor had given an order: the Borg had to be hit now and hit hard before their shields recovered.

"This is Bloodwing, taking Dragon's wing," she called into the squadron channel while she warmed up the phasers, lowered the tetryon cannon and armed the six photon torpedoes in her launchers. It was a meager payload given what the Valkyrie could carry at maximum, but given the Theurgy's dire supply situation, she hadn't been in a position to be picky. A woman's voice began talking over the comm, offering tactical advice from the Theurgy while behind her and Dragon, Lillee was vaguely aware of other Wolves shooting past, firing at something.

But there was no time left.

With heartstopping speed, Lillee followed Dragon right at the immense monstrosity that was the Borg cube, slipping past and around weapons fire, debris and green-hued tractor beams with suicidally insane maneuvers made all the more suicidal by the sluggishness imparted by the deployed tetryon cannon as they charged the enemy head on. Moments after Dragon unleashed her weapons upon the cube's surface, Lillee pulsed her own triggers, firing phaser cannons and glowing red photon torpedoes right where Dragon had struck through the Borg hull. There was no time to see whether their combined weapons fire had hit home, though, as Lillee followed Dragon with obsessive, dogged determination.

---

OOC: Objective 3, AKA FIRE EVERYTHING!, complete.

[ Ensign Isel “Foxfire” Nix | Wolf-04 | Debris Field | Azure Nebula ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Stegro88
[Show/Hide]
[It’s getting messy here Foxfire.] Came Donna’s voice over the comms, [Stay close.]
Messy is a bit of an understatement… Isel thought to herself as she threw her Mk III into a steep dive to avoid colliding with yet another large chunk of debris. That large chunk of debris seemed unwilling to let her escape unscathed, however, as it exploded in a burst of green disruptor fire a moment later, raining smaller pieces of debris down onto her dorsal shields. Those shields took a beating, and were quickly depleting. Alarms blared in Isel’s cockpit as she swore loudly while struggling to reroute power to the dorsal shields. She was too slow, and several pieces of debris managed to impact her fighter before she could get the shield’s bolstered. More alarms, more cursing.

[Fuck...  friendlies…  danger… four?] came Donna’s voice again, though this time broken up by static. Isel was wondering what Donna had meant by friendlies when she saw the Vor’cha class KDF vessel soar into view, it’s disruptors firing at the Borg Cube through the debris field. ”Friendlies my ass! They almost fucking roasted me!” Isel roared as she pulled her Valkyrie’s nose upwards to climb past yet another chunk of space-crap that was floating into her flight path.

[Foxfi… he…ral… yug…] There was a sharp, high-pitched noise that cut through the static for a moment, then the static died as well.

”Chance, come in. Donna, do you read me?” No reply. ”Fuck…” Foxfire began trying to run a system diagnostic, though the process was slow going as she had to continually glance between her console and the debris field around her. Finally the diagnostic came back, showing damage to power distribution to her comms system. Of course! Isel fumed inside her head, Why wouldn’t my comms go down! Who needs fucking comms? Or a clear fucking flight path? Isel’s jaw clenched as she raged internally, all the while trying to fly as clear a path as possible to give her battered shields a moment’s reprieve to regenerate. After dodging a chuck of Klingon ship that was slowly rolling it’s way through the void, Isel took a quick glance around. ”Oh, for fuck’s…”

There was no sign of Donna.

”Chance, this is Foxfire, do you read?” Nothing. ”Shit shit shit shit shit!” Isel spat the curses through gritted teeth as she went to work trying to redirect power to her comms from another system. She wasn’t entirely sure it would work, but frankly she didn’t have much else she could do to try and remedy the problem. She was flying deaf, so any change should be an improvement. Another piece of space junk avoided, another few commands entered into the computer, another visual sweep searching for Chance. Where the hell had that woman gone?

Isel pushed the thought from her mind as she concentrated on the comms. For a moment she missed having an RIO, someone to help her deal with these sort of issues while she concentrated on not crashing them into the debris all around them. As it was she was having a hard time of it. A moment later the return of the audio signal told of her success, though not in the manner she had been expecting.

[…ay, mayday. This is Wolf-03. I have lost main power and am adrift on a collision course with the cube. Requesting assistance.] A quick glance told Foxfire that she was still on the Element channel, and that no one else in the squadron could hear the distress call. What the hell, Donna… Isel thought to herself as she began her search for her Element Leader anew, It’s not like you to make a mistake like that. Pushing the thought aside, she keyed open her mic and called back to her Element Leader.

”Chance, Foxfire. You’re on the fucking element channel! No one can hear you!” Isel called to the other woman and she pushed her fighter faster towards the cube, her eyes dividing their attention between avoiding obstacles and desperately searching for Donna. The Cube loomed closer and closer, it’s simple shape filling the small Vulpinian’s chest with fear as it dominated her view. ”Chance, I can’t see you. Where… wait!” Her eyes had just caught sight of it, a fighter in a flat spin, it’s engines powered down. Isel altered her heading and punched it, sending her Mk III streaking towards the twirling fighter in a desperate race to reach Donna before Donna reached the Cube. Isel worked quickly as her Valkyrie sprinted towards her wingmate, bringing her fighter’s short-range tractor beam emitter online and targeting the spinning Mk III Valkyrie with her sensors. She would have to wait until she closed the distance before she engaged the tractor beam to pull Chance out of the spin and away from the Cube, and so Isel stared with wide, unblinking eyes as the range indicator rapidly counted down the range to target. ”Almost there, Donna, almost there…” Mentally she counted down the as her eyes watched the range drop. 3… 2… 1…

Isel activated the tractor beam emitter, feeling a jolt throughout her fighter as her inertial dampeners fought to compensate for the change in speed as her Mk III crossed the path of Chance’s Mk III, catching hold of Chance’s fighter and dragging it on a new heading as it went. The jolt may have caused some discomfort, but the knowledge that Chance was no longer about to spin headlong into one of the Borg Cube’s face was a massive relief. Isel let out a long breath as she keyed open the her mic on the element channel again. ”I’ve got you, Chance. I’ll pull you clear.” Foxfire glanced at her sensors, scanning the status of Donna’s craft. Impulse engines powered down, damage to the port wing. Shields regenerating after taking damage. More importantly, Chance’s life signs were strong, the other pilot appearing alright as far as she could tell. ”You work on getting those engines back online. I’ll get you somewhere out of the line of fire.” A slight grin spread behind the visor of Isel’s helmet as she found herself unable to resist another comment.

”You know, Donna, I’ve heard of throwing everything you’ve got at the enemy, but I think you’ve taken it a bit far…” The comment was delivered in a light, teasing tone, a tone that failed to convey the overwhelming sense of worry and relief the Vulpinian had been feeling. This bloody Human is going to be the death of me… Isel thought to herself as she looked for a large piece of debris to shield Chance from the Borg Cube as the other pilot worked to get her systems up and running.

---

OOC: Objective 5 complete.

OOC Notice: Since the question has come up, I feel I have to clarify time passing here in Space Trash Rampage as opposed to Chapter 05: BotA. They are not concurrent, because in BotA, not only is Soup Sandwich in effect (Borg shield matrix down). In BotA, the Queen has adapted to Soup Sandwhich, destroyed many Klingon ships, fired upon the Theurgy and then, the Versant arrived. STR is only when Soup Sandwich is in effect, the rest coming in later. After I post next here in STR, the rest of the development will be covered, with new Objectives etc. :)

[ Miles "Iron-Fox" Renard | Wolf XX <Transponder signal broadcasting as WMS Vargulf> |  Approaching the Debris Field at Low Warp | Azure Nebula ]
Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Stegro88 @Fife @Doc M. @Triage @Havenborn @Griff @Nolan @Kinvarus (and anyone I may have missed)

The single pilot craft’s engine seemed to painfully whine as it made its way through the blue tinged space of the Azure Nebula.  Its sole occupant’s last 7 hours had been the most eventful in several days after all, and though he felt in some ways he had reason to be happy he knew that any consideration of celebration was likely not for the best.  After all, what he had found was not evidence of the Theurgy herself, but a likely location of a Klingon Defense Force armada. One that likely was being led by the chancellor himself, if the com chatter were to be believed.  Still, a lead was a lead.

Mere hours ago a sign on his sensors simultaneously raised and lowered his greatest hopes.  From the distance his sensors detected the telltale energy spikes that could only be the result of a battle having begun.  On one hand, the fact that a battle had begun meant that the KDF, in its own way, was leading him back to his home. On the other, it was likely that his home was under attack by that very armada.  Still, in times like these beggars could hardly be choosers. If flying into a battle between his home and the KDF was the only way to return to the place he belonged, then in that case he welcomed returning to a fight.

His ship being up to said fight was likely another matter though.  He had managed to make some repairs but even at their best he doubted his ship was in any condition to fight.  Still, it was in better shape than it was when the Theurgy had made her escape.  This had come at a great cost to his abilities in a fight though.  Sure, he now had two working impulse engines again and his thrusters and maneuverability had been somewhat repaired, but to do so he had to shunt much of his phaser systems energy and near every drop of energy from his warp drive into the impulse engines and thrusters.  Once he opened up the impulse engines up he doubted he could put the ship into warp again without a core breech being a near certainty.  His life support was all but gone and he was relying completely on his exosuit at this point, but given the reliability of the power supply on his suit when hooked into his ship he knew his air supply would likely last longer than his ship would last in any fire fight so at least that was one thing not to worry about.  He almost had doubts that his bird be useful for anything but spare parts if he got her into the bay at this point, but he had his faith in her.  Besides the one good thing to come out of the damage, Using a false transponder signal his power readings when operating in a near gray mode could fool most into thinking the ship was some sort of old and worn down freighter.

Combat wise he had one working phaser beam and a halfway functioning set of pulse phasers. He could get them up to about a quarter of their usual strength, but that would be enough to light a pocket of sirillium gas and in reality that was his main reason to have either of them functional at all.  What he did have at full strength though were his Twin mounts, and he had jerry rigged up a little surprise in his tetrion canon just in case he met with unexpected opposition.  At this point deflectors, inertial dampers, sensors, coms, his tractor beam emitter and his transponder were pretty much the only things fully functional on the small ship.  But he had a few tricks up his sleeve from his years of experience within his home system which was located in a quite similar nebula.

As he approached, the Vulpinian focused himself and breathed, he placed his hand on the controls again waiting as he neared the point of no return.  Throttling back on the engines the small fighter dropped out of warp on the outskirts of a battle like he had not seen since many years ago when he was stationed in the sol system.  It was a sight of many ships of all sizes common in but one factor.  Complete and utter devastation had met many of them as his com systems began to come to life his own modifications cutting through much of the nebula's interference.  If the devastation wrought had not made his stomach feel like it had dropped into a bottomless pit the sight of the lone metallic cube dominating the field did.  What little calm he was able to muster at what he saw only existed because of his current distance from the battle and the fact that it wasn’t his first time seeing one nor would be his first time having to enter into battle against one.  That experience hardly could have been called reason to feel brave though.

From this distance he knew he would not be able to give the immediate support to anyone whether it be a fighter or a ship.  What he could do at this distance was provide a certain vantage point of the battle that no ship within the fray could offer.  From his vantage point he steeled himself and brought his systems as online as he could utterly ruining any illusion he had of the ship being any sort of freighter. He then dropped the false transponder tag causing his ship to show on sensors correctly as a Valkyrie III registered to the USS Theurgy.  In the calmest voice he could he keyed into the com frequency for mission ops which he hoped the squadron leader, whoever it was now, would be listening in to as well, “Wolf Lead, Theurgy Mission ops, this is Lieutenant Commander Miles Renard. Please designate craft as Wolf Zero-Zero.  I’m reading multiple pockets of sirillium gas two notably close to contacts in system, one nearing intercept with Borg vessel other drifting close to Federation vessel designation Cayuga. Currently tracking Cayuga gas cloud and marking with Tetrion beam.  If friendly advise detonating cloud before posing further danger to friendly, over”

[ PO1 Mickayla MacGregor | Cinsaj's Cockpit | AC-507 Mk I Reaver | Debris Field | Azure Nebula | At Warp ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan
[Show/Hide]

“By the Prophets,” were the first clear words that Mickayla understood as she awoke. After eating, she had been unable to resist the desire to sleep and so drifted off peacefully despite the crowded nature of the cockpit. Being awoken by Lieutenant Drake cursing was bad enough, as was the ache in her abdomen from her recent injuries, but what she would soon discover would be a nightmare.

Rolling over, Mickayla enjoyed the feeling of returned energy that the healing, food and rest had provided her and hoped that she would remain that way as she accessed the Reaver’s sensors. What she saw displayed on the small screen explained Drake’s exclamation moments earlier quite clearly.

“Not again,” Mickayla said to herself, her voice scarcely able to be considered a whisper. “First on the Enterprise, then the Endeavour. Now all I have around me is this tiny warp fighter from the future. Maybe I won’t have to make a decision. Maybe it will be third time lucky for the Borg.”

Moments later, Dev was dropping the Reaver out of warp and Mickayla was able to re-examine the carnage surrounded the static Borg cube. The Theurgy was nearby, being assaulted by Borg weapons fire while on the other side of the cube, a ship that the sensors identified as the USS Cayuga, was dancing in and out of an extensive debris field composed almost entirely of disabled or destroyed Klingon vessels. There were still many active ones however, and although their armaments no longer threatened the Borg, they Klingons continued their vain assault.

“Now just you wait a bloody minute,” Drake objected when Dev decided that she was going to have them transported to the Theurgy; not that the pilot heard him as she began to transmit, attempting to reach the Theurgy and then who she assumed was her squadron CO, someone called Ravon.

“I’m certainly not going to object to not being in this thing in a fight against the Borg,” Mickayla thought to herself. “I’d much rather a hard deck beneath me and a phaser in my hand. I’m no space-jockey. Beam away.” But her hope for a better, ‘safer’ environment was short lived as it seemed that while Dev could transmit, receiving was another issue entirely. “Fuck me,” Mickayla whispered as Dev simultaneously said that they were staying with her and for them to stay out of her way. 

As Mickayla rolled and squirmed as much as she could to clear space for Dev to do her thing, she felt a sharp pain in her abdomen but ignored it as she was sure she was going to feel much worse after entering combat squished into a 1-man cockpit with two others and not wearing any restraints. Still able to see the sensor readout, Mickayla, and Drake for that matter, could do nothing but watch and listen as Dev flew the Reaver into the maelstrom.

---

[ Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Wolf 03 | Debris Field | Azure Nebula ] Attn: @Fife  
[Show/Hide]

Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson had honestly never been happier to see anyone or anything in her life as much as she was to see the Valkyrie MkIII headed in her direction each time her own warp fighter completed a revolution. Cube, Valkyrie, Cube, Valkyrie. On and on with the Valkyrie drawing ever closer.

She had no way of knowing who was piloting the approaching warp fighter. In an effort to restart her engines, after sending her mayday call, she had shut down everything, even her life support, and tried to restart. And it hadn’t worked. Taking a deep breath, she had tried again but that too hadn’t worked, leaving her adrift and without power. All she could do was wait and hope that the pilot coming to her aid could save her.

The jolt caused by the tractor beam snaring her fighter and arresting her drift was a relief beyond words, as was the fighter beginning to tow her away from the cube. As the distance opened, Chance once again tried to restart her systems and was overjoyed when her fighter began to restart. As her systems came back online, Chance checked her communications and realised that she had never switched out of the element channel. Before she could adjust it, the sweetest voice in the universe filled her ears.

“… you, Chance. I'll pull you clear,” Foxfire announced, unable to see or hear the sound of the tear forming at the corner of Chance’s eye. She was alive.  "You work on getting those engines back online. I'll get you somewhere out of the line of fire,” Foxfire continued before pausing. "You know, Donna, I've heard of throwing everything you've got at the enemy, but I think you've taken it a bit far...”

“You can talk,” Chance responded, as she scanned her systems, looking for faults before trying to restart her engines again. “You were throwing yourself at me before we’d even been introduced,” she teased, her face plastered with an unseeable smile. “Thanks Isel. I owe you everything.”

[ LT Daniel Havenborn, Callsign: Salvo | Cockpit | AC-307 Mark-II Valkyrie “Hellcat”] Attn: @Nolan, @Doc M., @Stegro88, @patches, @Fife, @Auctor Lucan, @Griff, @Kinvarus

As Daniel formed up with Angel; he noticed the new contact, the Reaver, which had been taken by the Savi during their attack on the Theurgy.  He wasn’t sure how the fighter had found them but he wasn’t going to question it at the moment.  He was just happy for the extra firepower that the Reaver would bring.  Suddenly Commander Ravon came over the squadron channel and ordered everyone to open fire on the Borg cube.  Daniel smirked to himself as he began to lock onto the Borg cube.  “Knight, prepare all Hellbores.”  Daniel said as Knight confirmed his order.

Daniel lined his fighter up with the Borg cube and once he had a target lock tone he fired all four of his Hellbores at the Borg cube, then he followed them up with the pair of quantum torpedoes that he had sitting in his external mounts.  Watching as the explosions ripped through an exposed section of the cube, in conjunction with the rest of the Lone Wolves and the other vessels that were firing on the cube he could only hope that his ordnance would help to disable, maybe even destroy the cube.

With his ordnance expended Daniel maneuvered his fighter back towards the Cayuga, as he did so however he noticed a large sirillium pocket of gas making its ways towards the ship, no one else had seemed to notice it and Daniel knew he had to be quick, if the sirillium managed to envelop the ship it could severely damage the already heavily damaged Federation vessel.  “Knight prep torpedoes one through four, set them to scatter and detonate at specific points around the gas pocket.”  Daniel said.  “What gas pocke-” Knight began to say.  “Oh I see it now, preparing torpedoes.”

Daniel intended to use his remaining photon torpedoes to create an explosive force that would envelop the sirillium before it could reach the Cayuga.  “Torpedoes prepped.”  Knight said behind him.  “Understood, launching torpedoes in three, two, and one.”  Daniel said, as he reached one he launched his remaining torpedoes and watched as they flew towards the gas pocket, they scattered to their specific coordinates and then detonated in front of the gas pocket several hundred meters before the Cayuga.

-----
OOC: Objectives 3 and 8 complete

[ Tessa May Lance, callsign:  Goldeneye (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tessa_May_Lance,_callsign_%22Goldeneye%22) | Cockpit | AC-409 Mk III Valkyrie | Ithacae System ]  Attn: @Arista @Auctor Lucan @Fife @Griff @Havenborn @IronFerrox @Kinvarus @Nolan  @Stegro88

The Cayuga glided through the cluttered blue sky, Tessa’s Valkyrie following in its wake.  Using the bigger ship’s deflector shield and magnetic field to push the dust and debris out of the way made flying easy, allowing the fighter pilot to listen in on comms chatter:

[ This is Dragon to all Lone Wolves. Your audibility is still zero, but did you all see that?  It seems the cube's shields are down, at least for now. Razor, I suggest any available fighters concentrate fire on the cube now, over. ]

“Dragon?” Tessa asked out loud.  “As in Lieutenant (junior grade) Devyrie Okhala, callsign ‘Dragon’?  Didn’t she go missing?” If Goldeneye’s memory served her, Devyrie Okhala had been transported out of her cockpit by the Savi and taken away for… well Tessa didn’t really know why she had been taken away.  She didn’t really know why the Savi attacked the Theurgy in the first place to be honest.

[ All wolves, divert all attention to the Cube. Weapons free. It looks like she's down on shields so make every single shot count! Lance, you seem like you're pretty much on top of the Cayuga, maintain position and cover it from there. Razor out. ]

“I copy you Ravon!” Tessa called back happily.  For once, she wasn’t the screw-up.  Thomas had ordered his fighters to rendezvous with the Cayuga, and Tessa was the only one to have done so.  And Thomas had given her a rather cush assignment.  Rather than having to attack the Borg cube close up she could hang back with the artillery while the Cayuga bombarded it from a distance.  Even if the Cayuga chose to close she could keep up by letting the big ship’s navigational deflectors push the debris out of the way.  And it wasn’t like she had to escort the Cayuga by herself.  Even now a wounded B’rel class Bird of Prey was moving in to position behind them and closing.  Despite the damage it had taken and its fluctuating life and power signs, the IKS Pragh was covering the Cayuga’s six and making a weapon’s lock on... the Cayuga? 

This made no sense.  Why did it have a weapon’s lock on the Cayuga?  Wasn’t it the Theurgy that everybody wanted to kill?  Maybe the crew was dead and the computer was running on automatic.  Acting on impulse, Tessa scanned the Klingon ship for lifeforms.

As the Klingon Bird-of-Prey emerged from the dust cloud that had obscured it, Tessa’s Heads Up Display sent her the following data:

Ship:   IKS PRAGH
Class:  B’REL CLASS
Owner: KLINGON EMPIRE
Operator:  KLINGON DEFENSE FORCE
Lifesigns  75% BORG  25% KLINGON

“Goldeneye to Cayuga!” Tessa cried.  “The Pragh’s crew has been assimilated!  The Borg have taken it over and they’re preparing to fire upon you!”

Tessa turned her fighter around and headed to the Klingon vessel.  It hadn’t fired yet because of all the debris in the way but as soon as it was clear who knew what would happen.  Of course, that meant that the Cayuga didn’t have a clear shot on the Pragh either.  But Tessa’s fighter was nimble enough to get around the debris and get a few good shots in.

Tessa fired photon torpedoes concentrated her fire with her tetryon pulse cannon and her both of her M-142 RF mass driver twin mount turrets.  An eerie green field absorbed the photon torpedoes like they were nothing but oddly enough the tetryon pulse cannons and the mass drivers worked like a charm.  The Borg must have somehow installed their own deflector shields aboard the Pragh although exactly how they could do so in the time it must have taken was a mystery.  The Borg deflectors knew what a photon torpedo was and they absorbed the blow easily.  The twin mass drivers and the tetyron pulse cannon must have been something new because it seemed like the Pragh had to use the remnants of the Klingon deflector shields that thanks to the Borg were as thin as tissue paper.  The Pragh was thrown off course as angry orange fireballs wracked it glowing green surface and it collided with more clutter.

Tessa breathed a sigh of relief as she realized that the twenty five percent of the bird of prey’s crew had probably bought her the time she needed to land her shots.  If not for them the Pragh’s guns would have probably made short work of her. 

As she turned and dodged the flotsam and jetsam that cluttered the Ithacae System she made a long arc in order to make another pass at the wounded bird of prey, only to gasp as her sensors revealed power being restored on the bird of prey and its systems being brought back on line.  They could repair their ship that quickly?  The blows Tessa landed on the injured ship should have sent it to the scrapyard and yet the Pragh was threatening to return to the fight.  At this rate by the time Tessa got back to it the captured ship’s shields would be up and it would be ready to threaten the Cayuga again.

Fortunately, those concerns were allayed when the Cayuga fired its aft torpedoes and caused the Pragh to explode in an orange fireball.

[ 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) | Heart of the Azure Nebula ] Attn:
^{@Nolan @Stegro88 @Fife @Havenborn @Doc M. @Griff @Kinvarus @Iron Ferrox}
[Show/Hide]Cramped as the fully armoured cockpit was - not even having a see-through canopy - Devyrie had adjusted to it, relying on the internally projected surroundings. She’d managed to find the nav feeds and lit the dark interior. Targeting data on the cube and moving crafts were tagged and - when she looked at them through the helmet - it registered her gaze, and offered her weapon locks at the fingertips of her control-sleeves. She was actually getting used to the lack of a flight stick, intuitive as the odd sleeves were. She saw the torpedo launchers and the disruptors on the expanse of the cube’s side, closed her fists in different ways, and tore it all up. Mid-assault, there was finally a voice heard through her helmet’s ear-piece.

[Angel to Dragon, I hope you can hear this chica because you've got an assimilated Vorcha class right behind that pretty ass of yours. Don't worry though, Fury and I have you covered.] As she heard it, she saw her happenstance lover’s and packmate’s Valravn fighter overshoot the Reaver, and engaged the Klingon ship on her tail. Devyrie had failed to key up the aft view feed on a screen, and was caught completely unawares. She got a warning about weapons lock from the Vorcha-class ship, but just as soon as the warning came, it was muted, telling her Angel must have dealt with the threat.

“Mickayla, I just got a hail on a FM band channel, can you please figure out how to switch my comms to that frequency? Say thanks for the save, or something,” she said to the Klingon woman next to her, tight-lipped as she remained focused on the targets along the cube, her thumbs white as she held down the buttons for her cannons. She noticed a shadow on her sensors, and snapped off a short order to Drake. “Who’s that?”

“Right, um, IFF says Wolf-Zero-Eight, Bloodwing. One of the Lone Wolves. You don’t know her?”

“I have no idea who that is,” she said, but seeing the skilled flight patterns of the Valkyrie, she wasn’t about to complain. She seemed to be flying as her wingmate, in a kind of silent accord. Perhaps she lost her own wingmate? ”Mickayla, when you get the comms to work, ping her and acknowledge her on that FM frequency.”

Then, all of a sudden, it was as if the Borg flipped a switch inside the ravaged cube. For between one moment and the next, all the fire she laid upon it was rendered ineffective. Dev's eyes widened. It was the same for the Klingon fleet, who had been slicing up the cube from all sides. And just like that...

“We’re exposed... Hold on, taking evasive manoeuvres!” Devyrie turned her sleeves over, holding them out to the side, punching Drake over the lips in the process. The result was a barrel roll into the debris field. The cockpit began to scream with warning klaxons, and she didn't even have to look to know they had gravimetric torpedoes on their tail. She pushed her ring finger against the palm of one control glove, releasing counter measures. Some of the klaxons persisted, and she pushed the release again, focused on not colliding with burning, breaking Klingon ships that had suffered the very same fate she tried to avoid. The larger ships had no manoeuvrability to escape the retaliation from the cube, and her tactical sensors saw most of the Klingon IFFs go dark.

Keep moving, Devyrie. Her father's voice, the memory of his teaching guiding her, she suppressed the paralysing fear. Only when she was deep into the debris, and there were no more warnings to silence, did she afford to check the aft sensors. That's when she noticed yet another Mk III Valkyrie, further away from the field. A straggler from the Theurgy? She still hadn't located the rest of the White Wolves, only Angel, and by some strange miracle, Meerkat, Scylla, Wraith and Blizzard, who shouldn't even be there. Bloodwing was somewhere out there, close, but she wasn't sure what to do. Weighing her options...

...she saw something manifest itself on the far side of the cube. At first, she thought it was some kind of trick of the Azure Nebula's light, but her sensors confirmed what she saw. The source of her recent nightmares.

"The Versant," she whispered, the enormous, sharp profile unmistakable.

She had to warn the pack, lest they'd seen it already. She used the regular subspace squadron channel, the new Valkyrie included. "Dragon to all Lone Wolves, come in. New contact: Savi dreadnought. Bearing two-nine-mark-seven!" Given the size of the thing, it might only be the debris that kept it from being noticed. She realized she had some intel to share, but not much. "When we escaped, stealing back this Reaver, other abductees were on the loose as well. We had a Savi on our side, someone called the Voice, and he was supposed to give us all escape routes off the Savi ship. I hardly think this is it, though... Advising extreme caution, and we may have survivors aboard it!"

After a few garbled replies came in, something happened. Devyrie saw it as a immense energy surge on her tactical display. "I think... it is powering up weapons!" she said to the two in the cockpit. No more had she said it, before aquamarine light bathed the debris field. A tremor reverberated through the space-frame of the Reaver. The Versant's three main cannons had powered up, and three lances of light shot straight through the debris field. The massive beams, likely thirty meters wide, entered the far side of the Borg cube.

"By the Centauri skies..." The beams drilled through the bulk of the cube, and within the span of three seconds, the beams burst out on the far side - continuing into the debris field on Devyrie's side. They missed the Cinsaj by 300 meters, and she adjusted course to stay clear. Devyrie couldn't find any words, staring in awe as the Versant maintained the beams, and began to turn - slicing great rifts through the entirety of the cube's mass. There were little in terms of explosions, but the metal construct parted like flesh to knifes, the gashes a hundred meters wide. That's when she saw the incoming hail. "Mickayla, answer it. On screen."

On the center HUD... stood the male form of Captain Jien Ives. He had been freed! Were they on the bridge of that ship? Did that mean that they... Had they taken command from the Savi, or was the Voice orchestrating this? So many questions, all silenced by the Chameloid's voice.

[All available ships, the cube is immobilised and exposed,] said the Theurgy's Commanding Officer, and next to him stood Thea, as well as someone Devyrie recognized as Cross from the Endeavour, another abductee. A bald Vulcan, who used to have Bajoran blood... and two hands. He was Drake's superior officer. [We're charging for another attack, but we need time. Sensors show no active weapon systems within the cube. If you can, destroy it from within. Ives, out.]

Fly... through it? Devyrie swallowed, feeling how new the Reaver was to her, and how she had challenges enough with the moving debris field. Then again, it might be what it took to destroy the cube. Devyrie closed her mouth, and her green eyes drifted to Drake. "Arm the hardpoints we have left," she said, feeling the battle shifting again, "and remember that 'TP' shield? Make it work again. We're going in. Devyrie to all Lone Wolves, since I can't hear all of you, I am taking the tunnel with the bearing two-seven-mark-eight, and it looks like the Allegiant and its escort is taking the middle one!"

Father, wish me luck... she thought, and set the course. Because this is madness!

---

OOC: Wohoo! @Nolan posts next, acknowledging Miles Renard's return first, followed by this sequence, which should be reflected in all of your posts: 1) The Borg cube adapts, the majority of the Klingon fleet is destroyed in the Queen's retaliation. Breakneck survival flying. The IKS Negh'Var is one of the Klingon ships that manages to survive the onslaught. The Theurgy is damaged as well. The Cayuga still in the clear, being further away. 2) In the aftermath, the Versant appears, immobile at first while your characters react and respond to orders. Oh, shit moment. Then, after about a minute (in which Ives has been talking to the Theurgy)... 3) ...the Versant opens fire against the cube, drilling three huge holes. Then, when the beams are through it, they cut sideways, making the holes a hundred meters wide. 4) Captain Ives hails all warp fighters as well as the Allegiant, ordering another attack since the shields of the cube is down. 5) The Allegiant and the fighter escort picks the middle tunnel, and makes a tunnel run through the cube and lights it up from within as they go. @Nolan must split the Lone Wolves between the two remaining tunnels, Devyrie having picked one of them since she can't receive orders. You can end your posts mid-flight through the cube, or at the end of it - shooting out on the other side.

Here are brand new Battle Objectives to illustrate in your upcoming posts! Again, please check off one objective each, and you still have full liberty in setting up details. Here we go! [Show/Hide]Seven days to post, but most importantly, have fun!

[ Lt Cmdr Thomas 'Razor' Ravon | Kestrel | Heart of the Azure Nebula | Debris field ]
@Iron Ferrox  @Auctor Lucan  @Triage  @Havenborn  @Doc M.  @Stegro88 @Fife  @Griff  @Kinvarus 

The attack run on the cube would at least take a few minutes with all the debris and Klingon ships in the way. Rawley was spearheading the assault as Thom followed in her wake. He hadn't checked his the readings of his scanners as the focus was lying in dexterous flying. However when the voice of a literal ghost popped up in the channel between himself and Henshaw, Ravon was phased for a second.

"Wolf Lead, Theurgy Mission ops, this is Lieutenant Commander Miles Renard. Please designate craft as Wolf Zero-Zero.  I'm reading multiple pockets of sirillium gas two notably close to contacts in system, one nearing intercept with Borg vessel other drifting close to Federation vessel designation Cayuga. Currently tracking Cayuga gas cloud and marking with Tetrion beam.  If friendly advise detonating cloud before posing further danger to friendly, over"

"Miles?" he mumbled under his breath before his ship shook up as a piece of debris bounced off his shields, the belly of his fighter rumbling as his fighter veered off course and began to react erratic to the collision. He quickly got his head back to flying and maintained a stable course as he checked the readings, the civilian craft suddenly being renamed as Wolf 00. He first addressed the problem of the sirillium gas pocket by contacting Lance "Tessa, there should be a marked gas pocket near your position, posing a threat to the Cayuga, dispatch it if you would so kind. Over."

"Where the fuck did you come from?" he asked out loud to himself whilst switching up the channel to answer Miles Renard. Ravon had a million questions for his SCO after his disappearance from the battle at SB 84. Renard had ordered his wolves to head off without him, a decision that had left Thomas with a bitter feeling as he got Miles' position in his absence. There was however no further time to dwell upon this as he had to lead the wolves regardless for the time being.

"Wolf 01 to Wolf 00, glad to see you made it in time to our party. It's good to hear your voice and to know you're alive and well, but I have a beef with this cube... How is your fighter readiness? If it still got some juice in it I'd recommend hooking up with Lance at the Cayuga or alternatively head back to the Theurgy for safety. I do appreciate an extra set of eyes on the other hand so I'll leave the choice for you Miles. Over."

The final Klingon Warbird got passed at the end of Thom's message and Rawley's battle cry made it quite clear what they were up to. However as Rawley's torpedoes impacted on the cube, the green glow of shields popped up and that dreaded feeling came to crawl up Ravon's spine. A dreaded feeling to know one was up close and personal with a Borg cube that adapted to their weapons. The numerous impacts of the armada firing away at the cube were all blocked by the shields and Thomas shook his head "Razor to all wolves. Fall back! Cube has adapted!" Time seemed to slow down as the cube unleashed her wrath.

Multiple launches were detected and the Valkyrie's systems were blaring claxons of incoming weapons fire. Most of the torpedoes weren't aimed for Thomas or Rawley, the latter cursing out loudly as she defiantly tried to barge through the cube again before realizing it truly had no point. She high tailed it out of the immediate area along with Razor as the torpedoes and green beams of Borg weaponry disposed of the fleet surrounding it. Klingon ships broke in half or simply blew up upon impact. The debris field exponentially increasing as the two wolves at some point flew through a Klingon Cruiser that had just detonated. Various alarms went off during that feat and a rain of further debris flung against the shieldsof his Valkyrie, protecting him from further harm, yet draining the overall strength of it regardless. Evelyn dispatched of a chunk of Vor'Cha class that was on a collision course for the both of them. The two pilots getting a breather for a minute as there were no incoming fire alerts and they rolled their ships around to think of a new strategy.

On top of that a rather distinctive beeping alerted Thomas of a new arrival in the clusterfuck of a space battle they found themselves in. The readings of the new ship were unmistakably confirmed as he glanced over towards the position of the white dreadnought that doomed through the debris field. The Versant. "Right when you thought this day couldn't get any better..." he hissed to Rawley who simply replied "Aye, I'd say we leave the damn cube for what it is and poke the white fucking whale so it'll follow us to the Borg and hope they slice it apart while targeting us." Thomas chuckled at the idea of it. "Wolf lead to all elements, report in. We might need a different plan now. Regroup at the Cayuga as initially planned. Do not engage the Versant alone. We all knew which can of bullshit that'll open up to us."

As the replies of of his squadron began to trickle and Thomas made his way back to the Cayuga the impossible seemed to happen. He had kept his eyes on the Versant as he really didn't trust that thing and as the main cannons suddenly unleashed their aquamarine beams, he was surprised to see it slash into the hull of the Borg cube. "What the Fuck..." he called out before the beams simply split through the cube like a hot knife through butter. The beams came to a stop and left the cube simply afloat in space before his HUD lit up and Ives' face was right up and in his visor.

 [All available ships, the cube is immobilized and exposed, we're charging for another attack, but we need time. Sensors show no active weapon systems within the cube. If you can, destroy it from within. Ives, out.]

Thomas blinked a few times as the HUD cleared up again and he looked at the cube. He heard Devyrie "Dragon" Okahala announcing that she'd take the top tunnel, and made his decision. "Fuck this.." he opened the channel to all of his pack "Razor to Salvo. Gather your flight and pick the top tunnel for an attack run. Follow Dragon and Bloodwing. Chance, Foxfire try to rally up on me and Rawley, we'll be taking the lower entrance. Razor out." With the return of Miles, the rest of the pack would undoubtedly have a great leader if he wouldn't make it out of the cube. He had a gut feeling that not all of them would make it.

Rawley laughed maniacally as she turned in on Razor's wing "Oh, I have just the special treat for that bitch!" Razor chuckled and flew ahead on full impulse engines. Rawley and him finding a stray pack of Klingon raiders who happily joined their merry pack to unleash revenge on the cube. The group of about eight ships rallied to the cube and popped into the fresh cut hole on the ventral side of the cube.

It would be a tight fit and one could hardly fly next to one another in the one hundred meters tunnel that had been created. "Setting the detonators at fifteen seconds on the torpedoes. That's the time we'll have to get out of this deathtrap." Razor warned his flight as he looked on his HUD and began to fire them as they closed to the middle of the cube. Each torpedo digging into the fuselage of the cube and getting as deep as it could as if they were seeds being planted to sprout soon. The insides of the cubed looked eerily enough with extensive damage to be seen by the Versant's weaponry. Occasionally he could just catch a glimpse of a drone popping up yet his ship flew too fast to recognize any of them.

[ Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson & Ens. Isel "Foxfire" Nix | Wolves 03 & 04 | Debris Field | Azure Nebula ]

[Show/Hide]
Joint Post Between Fife and Stegro88

"Chance to Foxfire, all systems have restarted. You can disengage the tractor beam,” Chance advised her wingwoman as they flew through the debris field away from the cube. She hadn’t actively kept track of their position; her only point of navigational direction was keeping the cube behind her.

“Roger, Chance. Disengaging now” Foxfire acknowledge as she tapped the commands into her console to disengage the tractor beam. “Beam disengaged. Try not to fly into anything else this time, yeah?”

“I didn’t fly into anything last time; it flew into me,” Chance argued, a smile on her face, as her fighter came alive beneath her fingers once again. Advancing her throttles, Donna added, “And without an invitation as well.”

“Whatever you say, lover.” Isel shot back, her own grin intensifying as she teased the other pilot. “Checking sensors to figure out where we’re at. I’m seeing the IKS Negh’Var nearby.” Isel’s eyes took in the information on the sensor readouts. “Man, they’re really giving the cube a beating... wait...” Isel saw her sensors light up like a fireworks display as the cube suddenly retaliated, spewing ordinance towards the ships assaulting it.

Chance hated looking over her shoulder, a product of undercover training. But as a Tac CONN pilot, sometimes that was exactly what you had to do and it was that very action that allowed Chance to see the moment that the battle against the cube turned back in the Borg’s favour. Instead of the hull explosions from moments earlier, suddenly the incoming weapons were met by a shimmering green shield instead.

“Fuck, they’ve adapted,” Chance cursed out just as the Borg capitalised on the sudden turn of events and began to release a tidal wave of disruptor and torpedo fire. “Evasive manoeuvres!” Chance screamed as she slammed her fighter sideways.

Wreckage and debris was both exploding and appearing all around them as the Borg weapons shredded the field in search of still active Klingon ships. Invariably, those very ships either exploded or were added to the debris field that made flying though it a considerable challenge even without the threat of the Borg. Chance and Foxfire lost sight of each other multiple times during those seconds, only to reappear each time.

Breaking into a clearer area of the field, the Klingon flagship, the Negh’Var loomed ahead of them, already turning to port to avoid the Borg’s fire. The first few torpedoes missed, barely but with the field hampering the warship’s manoeuvrability, the Borg were quickly able to correct their aim. The ship’s shields absorbed the first few impacts but after so long in the theatre of battle, the shields were heavily depleted and soon faltered; exposing the hull to the onslaught.

Isel saw the carnage wrought by the cube as she rounded a rather large chunk of debris, her eyes going wide at the sight of Klingon vessels being torn apart on all sides. She saw the Negh’Var just ahead, the behemoth ship taking a beating as it attempted to turn away from the latest barrage of torpedoes streaking toward it. “Fuck, this went south real fast!” Isel snarled as she continued to put her fighter through its paces, dodging the erratically spinning pieces of what had once been Klingon ships. “The Negh’Var is taking a fucking beating. She won’t hold up to much more of that!”

“You’re right, let’s do what we can to cover them,” Chance directed as she brought her fighter around on an intercept course for the larger Klingon vessel. Simultaneously, she switched her weapons over to her pulse phasers and micro torpedoes, wanting quantity over quality at this point. “Keep that tail of yours in one piece please.”

“Oh, I plan to!" Isel said, the tension in her voice tinged with a hint of mirth as she brought her Valkyrie around one last large piece of space junk and moved to form up on Chance’s wing, “My tail is cute and adorable, and I’d like to keep it that way!” As Foxfire brought her fighter into position off Chance’s wing, she couldn’t help but add one more jab. “And quit thinking about my ass! We’ve got enough to deal with right now without you getting distracted!”

“Too late,” Chance shot back as she brought her fighter alongside the Klingon flagship. “I hope Martok appreciates this,” she commented, not even knowing if the Chancellor was still alive. “We’ve got incoming.”

“I see them!” Foxfire acknowledge, her eyes already following the path of the torpedoes on her sensor readouts as he targeting scanners locked onto the incoming ordinance, “Lets light ‘em up!” With those words Foxfire opened up with her Valkyrie’s pulse phasers, the visor of her flight helmet glowing as the orange lights streaked forward to intercept the first of the inbound torpedoes. 

Mirroring her companion’s actions, Chance opened up with the own cannons, the pulses of energy streaking away to attempt to intercept the Borg weapons. Explosions began to dot the space between the cube and the turning Negh’Var, but not enough. 

“Shit, we got some leakers,” Chance called as the first Gravimetric torpedo slipped through their fusillade and impacted the rear of the warship. A second soon followed, detonating near the first and rending a section of the ship from the rest of the hull. Two more slipped through, impacting further along the ship’s starboard side, taking out entire sections but not tearing chunks off. And then the incoming torpedoes just stopped. “What the...?”

Isel had noticed the stream of incoming torpedoes cease as well, causing her to wonder what the hell was next. A quick glance at her sensors told her it was nothing good.

“What the ever-living fuck is that?!?” Isel snarled, her eyes wide with disbelief. Her eyes left the sensor readouts to glance out of the cockpit, searching for the new arrival to the party. It certainly wasn’t difficult to spot. “Is that the Versat that they’ve been talking about?” Isel let out a low whistle as stared at the enormous ship. “Oh... we are so fucked...”

[Wolf lead to all elements, report in. We might need a different plan now. Regroup at the Cayuga as initially planned. Do not engage the Versant alone. We all knew which can of bullshit that'll open up to us.] came Ravon’s voice over comms, cutting off Chance’s reply while also confirming the identity of the new ship.

“Whichever side that ship is on, it certainly got the Borg’s attention," Donna observed. Glancing at her sensors, she saw that the Negh’Var was limping away through the debris field while the Cayuga was almost on the other side of the cube from their current position. “The Cayuga’s pretty far off, let’s haul ass.”

“Shit, that things charging up. I’m getting energy spikes!” Isel said, glancing up to see three massive aquamarine beams streak forward. The beams tore into the cubes face, tearing though the vessel with ease as, several seconds later, the beams emerged from the rear face. “Well, I guess that sort of answers who’s side they’re on!” Isel said, her eyes staring at the damage dealt by the attack.

“You think?” Chance deadpanned as she watched the beams begin to carve though the cube.

[All available ships, the cube is immobilized and exposed, we're charging for another attack, but we need time. Sensors show no active weapon systems within the cube. If you can, destroy it from within. Ives, out.]

“Ives?” Chance wondered. “He’s alive?” Inside, her heart fluttered for a moment at the prospect of finally completing her mission, freeing her to do as she pleased with Isel. But she slammed that feeling down; they still had business with the Borg first.

[Devyrie to all Lone Wolves, since I can't hear all of you, I am taking the tunnel with the bearing two-seven-mark-eight, and it looks like the Allegiant and its escort is taking the middle one!] came Dragon’s garbled voice.

“Well aren’t they an eager beaver,” Chance intoned before another voice sounded off.

[Razor to Salvo. Gather your flight and pick the top tunnel for an attack run. Follow Dragon and Bloodwing. Chance, Foxfire try to rally up on me and Rawley, we'll be taking the lower entrance. Razor out.]

“Wolves 03 and 04 copy, Wolf leader.” Isel replied before switching back to the element channel. “I don’t know about you, but I liked 'regroup at the Cayuga' better than 'fly through the cube',” Isel said dryly as she moved to form up on Chance’s wing.

“I agree completely beautiful,” Chance replied, already adjusting course to rally as ordered. “I only like going up one thing’s tunnels. And it is for damn sure not the cube’s!”

“There’s Razor up ahead.” Isel reported, picking up thier SCO’s signal ahead, as well as several Klingon raiders. “Looks like he and Ghost found some new friends, too!” Isel switched her comm channel to contact Razor. “Razor, this is Foxfire. Chance and I are on your tail. We’ll follow your lead. Let’s blow this thing and go home!”

“We have unfinished business,” Chance added, though only across their element channel as she switched over to her heavier ordnance.

As they approached the lower of the three holes bored through the cube by the Versant, Isel felt a chill run down her spine. The gaps left by the Versant’s weapons were enormous. As the walls of the tunnel enveloped them, obscuring the swirling blue hues of the Azura Nebula, Razor’s voice sounded off over the comms again.

[Setting the detonators at fifteen seconds on the torpedoes.] Came the SCO’s voice, [That's the time we'll have to get out of this deathtrap.]

“Yeah, I’m already on my way out,” Chance thought to herself as she adjusted the timers on her quantum torpedoes before firing them off one by one. Isel followed suit, firing her time-delayed torpedoes into the walls of the tunnel as she flew close-range on Chance’s tail. She felt her jaw tense as they made their way through the straight path through the cube, feeling a glimmer of hope as she caught sight of what she thought was a glimpse of blue at the end of the tunnel off in the distance.

---

Objectives 4 & 8 Cleared.

[ LT Daniel Havenborn, Callsign: Salvo Cockpit | AC-307 Mark-II Valkyrie “Hellcat”] Attn: @Nolan, @Doc M., @Stegro88, @patches, @Fife, @Auctor Lucan, @Griff, @Kinvarus

Daniel had watched as his ordnance struck the cube and for a moment he was quite content with his strike, then he noticed that his ordnance only did about a quarter of the intended damage as the Borg cube seemed to have adapted.  He watched as the cube then fired a salvo of different weapons fire on the Klingon fleet, destroying the rest of them.  Being closer to the Cayuga allowed Daniel to maneuver his way around the debris and he opened fire on some of the larger chunks to stop them from hitting the Cayuga itself.  As all this was happening he finally took note of heavily damaged Mark-III, it was identified as Commander Miles Renard’s fighter.  Renard has been lost during the Battle of Starbase 84 and Daniel had only met him briefly during the melee before he was declared missing in action, he was glad to see that the man had survived.

Just as Daniel thought that things couldn’t get worse, he watched as the Savi dreadnaught appeared.  “Fucking hell could this day get any worse.”  Knight said from behind him.  “Compose yourself my friend.”  Daniel said, truth be told on the inside he shared Knight’s sentiment, but his years of military conditioning prevented him from saying so aloud.  Thankfully Knight could say it for him, “It’s just another target for us to shoot at.”  As Daniel said that however the Savi dreadnaught fired three lances of weapons fire into the Borg cube, Daniel and Knight both watched in astonishment and then a moment later Captain Ives came over the communications channel and explained that hir was in charge of the massive vessel and even issued orders for the Allegiant and fighters to attack the wounded Borg cube. 

“Acknowledged Razor.”  Daniel said as he received the orders from Commander Ravon.  “Angel, Goldeneye and Bloodwing, form up on me, diamond formation, and keep it tight.”  He said as he weaved through the debris field, as he was closing in on the rest of his flight he narrowly avoided hitting a large chunk of a Klingon bird of prey, then suddenly something hit his fighter, he could hear the a tearing and then there was an small explosion and he heard Knight cry out in pain.  “Knight, what’s wrong?”  Daniel said as he began working to see what had just happened.  When no response came from his RIO, he tried to turn his neck around to look at him, but to no avail, so he grabbed his combat tricorder and managed to scan behind him, Knight’s lifesigns were weak but stable for the moment.

As Daniel put his combat tricorder back the computer finally gave him a damage report, apparently the engineering section of the bird of prey he had managed to avoid had struck his fighter, shearing off his port-side wing and damaged his port engine as well. “Salvo to Angel, my fighter is severely damaged, take command of the flight and continue with the attack.”  Daniel said before switching his communications channel to Ravon.  “Salvo to Razor, I’ve taken severe damage and my RIO is unconscious, I’m declaring an emergency and returning to the Theurgy.”  He said as he knew that he was in no position to help anymore; he’d be more of a liability than an asset now.

He shut down his port engine and transferred all his fighter energy to his starboard engine and his shields, cutting his phaser energy as well to give him more power, he still had micro-torpedoes should he run into trouble but hopefully his return back to the Theurgy would be uneventful.  He opened a channel to Mission Ops as he set his course. “Salvo to Mission Ops, I am declaring an emergency and requesting a priority landing in the FAB and a medical team on standby, my RIO is unconscious and his lifesigns are weak.”  Daniel said as he kept his course as steady as he could.

----

OOC: Objective 2 completed

[ Lt Cmdr Miles "Iron Ferrox" Renard | Wolf-00 | Heart of the Azure Nebula | Outer rim of the debris field ]
@Nolan @Auctor Lucan @Triage @Havenborn @Doc M. @Stegro88 @Fife @Griff @Kinvarus

[Wolf 01 to Wolf 00, glad to see you made it in time to our party. It's good to hear your voice and to know you're alive and well, but I have a beef with this cube... How is your fighter readiness? If it still got some juice in it I'd recommend hooking up with Lance at the Cayuga or alternatively head back to the Theurgy for safety. I do appreciate an extra set of eyes on the other hand so I'll leave the choice for you Miles. Over.]

He quickly acknowledged the hail. "Lead, as much as Id love to stay and dust this cube with you, I'm going to opt to RTB.  Honestly, my ship's pretty FUBAR at the moment.  The twin mounts, thrusters, and repulsors are pretty much all I've got running right. The impulse engines are okay, and everything else well...It's holding together but that's all I can say for it. Over"  He keyed his com to mission ops again and spoke up. "Zero Zero to Miss-Ops, Returning to base, Inform Fighter Bay to prepare for a cannon down landing. Over."

Miles secretly smiled behind his helmet despite all this.  For one he was happy to hear the voices of his comrades again, Even if they were shouting in a din of fighting. hearing those voices was a welcome sound. More-so he had to fight the inborn urge within to fight.  As much as he desired to do so he knew this foe was one never to underestimate or go in unprepared against.  He knew his ship was in no shape for battle against the oldest of birds of prey the Klingons had flying in this fray, much less one of these cubical terrors.

If anyone were able to scan his ship they would likely be surprised that it was even flying at all in its condition.  Scraps of metal were haphazardly hand-phaser-welded over what were hull breeches in shapes of gashes, holes, and strange twists of metal that resembled some kind of vortex made into the hull. There were even a few locations where the transparent aluminum of the cockpit appeared cracked on the outside, foggier than normal and thicker on the inside likely having had a layer patched similarly with a phaser on the inside to keep the atmosphere from leaking after the crack had been formed.  The impulse engines though functioning seemed to be radiating far more heat than they should while the nacelles were no longer giving off any glow as he had shut down the core and jettisoned all antimatter to prevent a breech in the event he were hit given the ship's compromised state.

Miles knew he had to get his ship in as early as he could this lull in the cube not returning fire could not last long and indeed he was right. In a near instant the Borg ship adapted once again and opened fire on the ships valiantly fighting them.  He throttled his engines up and watched the efficient brutality of the Borg as the masses of Klingon ships erupted into flashes of light and flame, those flames soon extinguished by the vacuum of space.

His sensors beginning to alarm with proximity warnings as he quickly decelerated down. Pouring what power he could into his deflector array and setting his sensors to maximum to detect any debris in his way and son the debris was too much and he decelerated further and further as he came closer and closer to the Theurgy and the fighter bay she housed.  Before he could get to the distance he wanted to be though the debris had became too much and he was forced to delay that return ever more as he was forced to slow down to combat speed just to be able to evade the fragmented corpses of ships within the heart of the nebula.  What he saw next though was even more stupefying than the mass grave he was having to fly within.

The sight alone was awe inspiring.  A single massive ship coming out of warp.  He had never seen anything like the vessel and the only words in his mind that could describe it with would be a space fortress.  It had to be over twice the length of the cube likely 3 times the length.  His ships sensors had nothing to compare it to aside from one key feature its hull seemed to be made of the same alloy as the saucer like ships the Asurians he had flew beside In his previous battle.  Whatever it was though one thing was certain it was charging weapons and by its angle it appeared to be pointed square at the cube,  He wondered if the Borg in their ability to shield themselves from anything could adapt in a way that could block that much raw energy. 

Given his position he was lucky in that he needed not evade as had already put himself firmly in the shadow of the Theurgy, trailing it as he positioned himself for landing within the bay he was vectoring himself towards now. still when he saw that energy seemingly drill through the cube he knew that even had the beams of brilliant light been directed in his direction the--by Federation standards--massive ship he called home would have offered no defense from such an assault.  Then he heard it.

[All available ships, the cube is immobilized and exposed, we're charging for another attack, but we need time. Sensors show no active weapon systems within the cube. If you can, destroy it from within. Ives, out.]

'The captain's voice?  Ives is on that ship?' Miles thought having just assumed Ives was on the Theurgy as would be hir usual station, Clearly a lot had happened he was unaware of but like the answers to how he returned to them those answers and questions of how this situation came to be were for another time.  For now there was a mission to complete and a battle to be fought.

As Miles began the final aspects of his own landing approach another voice came over the mission ops channel.  He saw the fighter vector in at a sharp angle approaching the bay cutting across his longer distance approach, At the angle though there was something odd about the fighters shape, 'A mark 2?' he thought to himself before confirming the Mark 2 was transmitting as 05 and from the visual he was getting it appeared to be missing near an entire wing.

Miles keyed in on his com to speak to Lt Havenborn, who's IFF seemed familiar... Had he been at Starbase 84? "Zero Zero to Zero Five, forming up on your wing and following you in."

[ Tessa May Lance, callsign:  Goldeneye (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tessa_May_Lance,_callsign_%22Goldeneye%22) | Cockpit | AC-409 Mk III Valkyrie | Ithacae System ]

[ Tessa, there should be a marked gas pocket near your position, posing a threat to the Cayuga, dispatch it if you would so kind. Over. ]

[ Roger that Razor, ] Tessa acknowledged.  [ Moving ahead of the Cayuga to dispatch the gas pocket. ]  She transferred more power into thrust while activating her short range tractor beam emitter to push the clutter directly in front of her out of the way. 

It was fortunate that Thomas had marked the pocket of sirillium that presented a hazard to the Cayuga.  There was so many distractions and so much debris in the area that it was easy to miss.  Privately, she hoped that Lillee was okay.  Somewhere she was out there without a wingman.   At least the Borg cube was vulnerable right now.  Hopefully, that meant that…

[ Razor to all wolves. Fall back! Cube has adapted! ]

…that meant that Tessa had no reason to complain about the relatively cushy assignment of hunting gas pockets.  She had been off her game for months now.  It was no surprise that Thomas was going easy on her.  And what was that big scary power reading?  Was that the Versant? 

[ Wolf lead to all elements, report in. We might need a different plan now. Regroup at the Cayuga as initially planned. Do not engage the Versant alone. We all knew which can of bullshit that'll open up to us. ]

Tears started blurring Tessa’s vision.  Instinctively she adjusted the humidity levels in her helmet.  Then she gasped as an aquamarine brilliance lit up the gas and debris around her.  The power rating of the Borg cube dropped exponentially. 

“Wow,” she blinked.  “There’s somebody in the galaxy that the Savi like even less than us.”

It was that moment when the Heads Up Display in her helmet revealed the face of the missing Captain Ives.

[ All available ships, the cube is immobilized and exposed, we're charging for another attack, but we need time. Sensors show no active weapon systems within the cube. If you can, destroy it from within. Ives, out. ]

What had happened?  Had Ives somehow made peace with the Savi?  It didn’t matter.  First things first.  Time to ignite that gas pocket so she could rejoin the pack and go after that Borg cube.  She fired her forward phaser arrays…

…and discovered that she had flown too close to the pocket of sirillium gas.  She had allowed herself to become distracted and since the gas pocket wasn’t something she could collide with she hadn’t kept her distance.  The orange explosion threatened to engulf her and pushed her fighter away like a bug on the surface of a pond after a large stone created a huge splash.

[ PO1 Mickayla MacGregor | Cinsaj's Cockpit | AC-507 Mk I Reaver | Debris Field | Azure Nebula | At Warp ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan 
[Show/Hide]
Petty Officer First Class Mickayla MacGregor was a 10-year veteran of Starfleet, her entire career spent in the Security Department. She had fought in the Dominion War and been in many firefights since then. But none of that prepared her for what she was now experiencing squashed into the 1-man armoured cockpit of the Reaver Cinsaj. 

It actually hadn’t been that bad when all she knew about what was happening was displayed on the small screen but now that Dev had figured out how to make what was happening around them display on the interior of the cockpit, it was almost like she could see out of the cockpit herself. And right now, she was wishing that Dev hadn’t done that.

There was debris everywhere. The shattered hulks of innumerable Klingon vessels drifted to and fro, impacting each other and bouncing away. Sometimes pieces sheared off and added to the chaotic mess that was the battlefield. Other Klingon ships, those that were still active or newly arrived moved through the debris field; using it as cover to protect themselves from the cube’s weapons even as they sort to use their own. Warp fighters, presumably from the Theurgy were doing the same thing but with a higher success rate due to their smaller size. And through it all, the Borg cube hung like a monolithic stone in space, unmoving yet unmovable.

Something white flashed over the top of the Reaver too fast for Mickayla to identify it but it served to break her fixation on the cube and bring her back into focus, in time to hear Dev’s directions to try and modify their communications array. Her expertise lay more in how to blow things up but you didn’t serve for as long as she had without at least learning a thing or two. Whether they applied to the operations of a warp fighter from the future, she was about to find out.

“I’ll try,” she replied as she began tapping away at the panel. It was not easy, the fighter seemed to be designed to operate from the control sleeves but she eventually found a sub menu with transmission options. Inputting her selection of FM band frequencies, Dev asked her to perform another task as Mickayla opened a channel. “Uh, this the Reaver. Dev says thanks for the save. And Bloodwing, if you can hear me, we are transmitting on an FM frequency and see you. FUCCCKKKK!!”

Mickayla’s cursing was caused by the cube’s sides coming alive with disruptor beams and gravimetric torpedoes being fired in all directions, quickly followed by the violent manoeuvres that Dev threw the Reaver into to avoid the incoming fire. Debris, the broken hulls of Klingon ships and weapons flashed over the armoured cockpit of the fighter, Mickayla bracing herself each time the fighter turned. In a way, the Klingon regretted now being able to see what was outside the cockpit. It scared her to be in battle of this magnitude but have no way to control the outcome or her own survival. And she could see and feel every time the fighter moved. Beginning to feel overloaded by what her eyes were seeing, Mickayla shut her eyes as her body continued to feel the Reaver respond to Dev’s commands. And then it got very quiet.

The Versant

Two words that Mickayla, while knowing she would hear them many times again as she was debriefed and asked what had occurred aboard that nightmare ship, feared to hear above all else. They actually caused her to snap her eyes open and her fears were realised. There it was, on the far side of the cube. She had previously only seen it on sensors during their escape but those systems contained enough detail that seeing the ship now, it was easily identified. It had come for them, those that had escaped its grasp.

In the background, Dev was warning the other fighters that the Versant had arrived and that there could be survivors aboard. While Mickayla hoped what she said was true, the pagmatic part of her knew that if the ship had united against them, then the survivors were either long dead or reimprisoned. She knew which she would have chosen if given the opportunity.

Something changed on her sensors, something she didn’t understand. The Versant was doing....Mickayla didn’t know what the Versant was doing. Disregarding the sensors and looking up at the Savi ship directly, she was just in time to see three beams of light lance out from the dreadnaught and spear into the Borg cube.

“The Savi are attacking the Borg?” Mickayla whispered, under to completely believe what she was seeing. The species and ship that had defiled her and stripped everything that she was away from her was now attacking the species that had tried to kill her twice, three times now, and that haunted her dreams some nights. Even after so long, thoughts of fighting the Borg aboard the Enterprise-E still invaded her dreams.

Coming back to herself, Mickayla realised that the massively powerful weapons of the Savi dreadnaught had, quite literally, pierced the cube and were now carving away at it. And then she noticed the incoming hail. It was from the Versant. She paused in answering it but the order from her superior officer overrode her hesitation and she did as directed.

[All available ships, the cube is immobilised and exposed,] said a man the Mickayla didn’t know. Next to him stood a strange female, as well as Lieutenant Cross. But the former hybrid looked terrible. He had lost part of an arm at some point since they had begun their insurrection aboard the Versant. But he was alive. Maybe there were others as well. [We're charging for another attack, but we need time. Sensors show no active weapon systems within the cube. If you can, destroy it from within. Ives, out.]


“Within? No. No. NO!” Mickayla’s mind went even as the hail ended and she turned to look at Dev but the pilot was already turning to look at Drake. As the Humans prepared, Mickayla could only look back at the Cube, its surface marred by three enormous passages through it. “This is not how I want to die.”
 

[Lt.JG Alessia Garcia – “Angel” (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alessia_Garcia,_callsign_%22Angel%22) |Wolf 06 | Heart of the Azure Nebula | Debris field ]
@Iron Ferrox  @Auctor Lucan  @Triage  @Havenborn  @Doc M.  @Stegro88 @Fife  @Griff  @Nolan 

Having dealt with the Klingon ship that had been tailing Dev, Angel swung her bird around and headed back into the fight, weaving her Valravn through the ever expanding debris and phaser fire. When two more ships pinged on her HUD she cursed under her breath but was relieved when they both turned out to be friendlies, even more so the surprise that Captain Ives had indeed returned with a ship too, that was certainly some brilliant timing there.

In front of her the sky lit up as several explosions from the Borg Cube painting the stars and she couldn't help but smile. Still the Cube was still very much alive and kicking and she had to give it to the Borg, those Cubes certainly could take a beating.

"Angel, Goldeneye and Bloodwing, form up on me, diamond formation, and keep it tight." Came Salvo's order through the comm. Glancing at her HUD she noted his location and altered course to meet up with him and the others. Out of her window she could see Salvo's fighter just ahead of her as he manoeuvred the craft through debris but winced when she saw something bounce off of the craft, although she was too far out to see what it was or how bad it was. As she was about to get on the Comm and ask him how he was, her own comm sprung to life.

""Salvo to Angel, my fighter is severely damaged, take command of the flight and continue with the attack."

"Acknowledged Salvo, I'll make sure to blow an extra hole in that thing for you." Angel replied as she swooped through some more debris and opened the comm to the others.

"Angel to Goldeneye and Bloodwing, Salvo's taken a hit and has to pull out, form up on me, we're gonna fly right through there and send these son's of bitches right back to whatever corner of hell they crawled out of." she said as she scanned her HUD, finding the best place for her little group to attack, the sensors picking out several weak points that would cause significant damage if they were hit, the only problem was to hit them all they would pretty much have to skim the surface of the Cube to hit them all.

Once they were all in formation, she sent her sensor scans to their HUD's "Alright you two with Salvo out I've got three targets, we hit them and the Borg are going to find themselves in a world of hurt. Now it's risky because we're going to have to fly real close to the Cube to do it but we're Wolves, if we couldn't pull this off then none of us would be here, we can do this so keep your cool, watch your distance and hit these bastards with everything you've got, we pull this off and drinks are on me when we get back."

With her order given and having complete confidence in both Bloodwing and Goldeneye's abilities she picked her target and threw her fighter into a dive, heading straight towards the Cube.

She knew she was asking a lot from Goldeneye and Bloodwing considering how close they all had to get to the Cube to hit their targets, which was why she had opted to take the hardest target to hit herself. While the other two could just skim the surface of the Cube to hit theirs, she would have to drop down into one of the more tighter part's of the Cube that left very little room to manoeuvre.

As she continued her dive, throwing the Valravn from left to right and back again as she dodged the green streaks of Borg weapon fire, she spotted her entry point and headed right for it. The closer she got however the quicker her HUD popped up to inform her that where she was going was just barely large enough for her Valravn to fit. Based on the readings she'd have maybe an inch or two on either side of her wings to work with if that.

"Oh man that's a tight fit." Fury muttered from his seat behind her, already knowing there was no way Angel was going to rethink doing this

From her spot in front of him, Angel smirked "You're not the first guy to say that to me." she replied and chuckled at the surprised, choked cough that came from him.

To Fury's credit though it was tight, if she didn't get her entry point perfect they'd hit one of the sides and most likely bounce off of it into the other and explode...granted it would still cause quite a bit of damage but they'd be dead which wasn't an ideal situation. Keeping her eyes focused on where she was going to drop the fighter into she made a beeline for it, her HUD displaying the ideal path to take as she pulled the Valravn out of it's dive and levelled it out and slipped right between the two parts of the Cube's hull.

As both sides of the Cube whizzed past the cockpit in a blur of grey and green streaks, Angel kept her gaze straight, watching as the target reticle on her HUD slowly began lining up the closer she got to their target. However she couldn't help but be reminded how similar what she was doing to a really old Earth movie she had watched with Wraith one evening in which the hero character attempted something similar and chuckled, knowing she would have to tell him about this once they got back.

The beeping confirmation of a target lock from her HUD immediately pulled her attention fully back into the moment and she fired, unleashing several Quantum Torpedoes at the target and immediately pulled up and turning away from the Cube. The explosion illuminating the cockpit in an orange/red hue for several seconds as the Quantum's hit their target.

Glancing at her HUD she smiled at the confirmation that her target had been hit and grinned even more as it set of several more explosions back along the path she had taken.

"Angel to Bloodwing and Goldeneye, target down hope you two have had similar success, when you're done form up on me and we'll see what else we'll be needed for, if anything."

...
OOC: Objective 8 Complete.

[PO3 Lillee t’Jellaieu (Callsign: Bloodwing) (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Lillee_t%27Jellaieu) | Wolf 08 | Debris Field | Azura Nebula] Attn: @Auctor Lucan, @Doc M., @Stegro88, @Triage, @Kinvarus, @Havenborn

[Show/Hide]
Sometimes, a battle could be nice and orderly. Everything could proceed in order, calmly and gently, allowing all combatants time to absorb each new variable and respond accordingly in an elegant dance of strategy and tactics.

This was not one of those battles. Instead, a Terran phrase that Lillee had learned from her long dead husband came to mind: it was the clusterfuck to end all clusterfucks. No sooner had she and Dragon come out of their attack run had the Borg cube adapted, unleashing an apocalyptic storm of hellfire in all directions in a display of awe-inspiring fury, missing Lillee purely because the Borg had bigger zeth'tra to fry. A message from the Reaver came in on a primitive radio frequently, and it took Lillee a good twenty seconds to realise that it was coming from Dragon. Or Cinsaj. Or Reaver. Why couldn't the idiots make up their minds about what to call that ugly beast!? And sure as Earth and Air, it was an ugly fighter, even if its hyper-maneuverability mixed with its skilled pilot made the Reaver a complete nightmare to stick with.

Then matters got even worse; In Lillee's mind, it became a Kling'hann clusterfuck, a phrase reserved only for the most dire of all possible situations. The immense Savi dreadnought appeared on the edge of the battlefield and unleashed mighty spears of energy into the cube, piercing it entirely. Still flying in and around debris, Lillee saw the message from the Versant as Captain Ives gave her orders.

Utterly insane, bizarre, mind-bendingly bonkers orders.

Still, she heard her Flight start co-ordinating for the insane bizarre mind-bendingly bonkers suicide mission, and Lillee gamely found her nearest comrades of her Flight, Salvo and Angel. By now, however, the blonde Romulan was a complete wreck inside her cockpit. She'd been too long without serious battle or stress, too long since her green blood had boiled for battle, and the death-defying struggle against the Borg had broken her endurance. She was sweating profusely now, her face flushed green in her helmet, her breathing ragged, her sense of calm from earlier in the battle now a distant memory. Lillee was terrified and exhausted, and she just wanted the whole thing to be done. Join up with the other three (blessedly still alive) Wolves, fly through the cube (she tried not think about that), fly out the other side (she really tried not to think about that) then do combat landings on the Theurgy (she liked thinking about that).

Except, as if the universe was determined to have its last laugh, the Kling'hann clusterfuck reached new heights. Lillee watched, utterly helpless, as a large piece of debris seemed to change course without warning, some thruster activating at precisely the wrong moment, instantly wrecking Salvo's Gryphon. She'd barely gotten onto Angel's wing before she noticed Goldeneye's symbol go dark as well, her wingmate's fighter flung violently away from an explosion far away, heavily damaged. In the space of mere moments, the Flight's strength had been halved.

The orders came through once more from Salvo, at least confirming that he was still alive, ordering Angel to lead the assault. The human woman didn't catch Goldeneye's apparent demise, but the battlefield was such a mess that it could hardly be helped. Instead, not trusting herself to speak calmly on the comm, Lillee took Angel's wing, aiming for the same...'tunnel'. She really tried to think of it as a tunnel, and not the jagged and far-too-narrow death zone that it appeared.

Angel piped up with some silly motivational speech, but Lillee was past caring. She flicked her eyes at the targets that Angel highlighted and immediately discounted them, some small rational part of her mind struggling through the terror. She had no torpedoes left, nothing that would even vaguely trouble those targets. No. Captain Ives had made hir recommendation. Lillee's phasers and microtorpedoes would only be effective in one place. Of course, that still didn't stop a constant muttering of curses as she aimed her Valkyrie at the tunnel least occupied by other combatants and flying in.

"Fires and little airy pricks, fuckity fuck fuck, kllhe'mnhe kllhe'mnhe kllhe'mnhe...IEEEEEEE FUCKING SHITTING IEEEEEEE!!" Lillee vaguely felt the steady wet warmth at her groin as her bladder emptied into her flight suit, but there was no time for that as she was suddenly IN the cube, flying through sheer instinct in and amongst the hull. Not wasting time, she held down all her triggers and the Valkyrie abruptly erupted into its own mini firestorm, pouring phaser and microtorpedo fore out into the cube's innards. Struck silent by the obscene effort required to navigate through the Borg cube, Lillee lightly tapped her flight stick one way than another, twitching her thrusters in minute bursts as she literally carved her way through the very heart of the Borg monster. So focused was she that when Lillee's fighter was struck by two heavy impacts from above, it took precious seconds before she realised what had happened.

In retrospect, the Borg drone knocking on her canopy should've made that obvious.

Too far gone to even feel terror any more, Lillee watched as the Borg drone kept knocking on the Valkyrie's canopy with its drill, as if trying to break through. She slowed her fighter down as much as she dared, staring at open-mouthed shock at the Borg drone relentlessly knocking on her canopy before she saw the drone's friend trying to get at the nacelle.

"Rude," Lillee muttered senselessly as she watched them work. It wasn't the wittiest of the comebacks, but the sound of her own voice did jolt her into action, accelerating once more into the cube's depths. The shields were a distant memory inside the dark metal nightmare, but there was something nearly as good. With careful aim, Lillee aimed first for the a great spike of the tunnel 'roof', flying her Valkyrie so close to it that the drone upon her canopy was literally ripped in half. The second drone had exposed something critical by the time he joined his friend, courtesy of a severed extended power conduit. Finally Lillee shot out the other end of the cube, her phasers glowing white-hot from overheating from firing during her entire run and her microtorpedo tubes badly malformed from the reckless rapid-firing.

She could scarcely believe what had just happened and indeed, even if Lillee should live for another two hundred years, she never really would.

[ Tessa May Lance, callsign:  Goldeneye (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tessa_May_Lance,_callsign_%22Goldeneye%22) | Cockpit | AC-409 Mk III Valkyrie | Ithacae System ]  Attn: @Arista @Auctor Lucan @Fife @Griff @Havenborn @IronFerrox @Kinvarus @Nolan  @Stegro88

“EEEEEE!”

The explosion had sent Tessa’s fighter hurling through space out of control, the only saving grace was that the dust and debris was being pushed forward ahead of her.  For a moment the systems in her Valkyrie went dark causing a panic attack as Tessa pounded her fists against her useless console.  Then somehow the systems returned online allowing the pilot to see where she was and what direction she was heading.  Her communications gear rebooted allowing her to overhear comm chatter:

[ Angel to Goldeneye and Bloodwing, Salvo's taken a hit and has to pull out, form up on me, we're gonna fly right through there and send these sons of bitches right back to whatever corner of hell they crawled out of. ]

[ Oh um, working on it Angel, ] Tessa replied weakly while punching ineffectively at her console trying to get speed up the reboot that nearly all over her fighter’s systems seemed to be doing.  It was then that she noticed where she was heading.  Straight to the Borg cube.  Her fighter was in a dangerous corkscrew, emphasis on screw please.  She had regained sensors, life support, and incoming communications, but would the rest of her systems come on line before her fighter went splat against the surface of the Borg cube?

[ Angel to Bloodwing and Goldeneye, target down hope you two have had similar success, when you're done form up on me and we'll see what else we'll be needed for, if anything. ]

There they were, the Lone Wolves squadron, flying over the surface of the Borg cube.  If only she could regain control of her thrusters so she could change direction.  Then she could join them in one final attack run.  But it was too late, there was no time.  The corner of the Borg cube zipped by in a terrifying wall of metal as the cube rotated to bring its weapons on the Versant.  The surface of the cube got closer and closer until…

…Tessa found herself entering a humungous gaping hole in the cube that was filled with debris, drones, and angry Starfleet and Klingon fighters.  With not even a trace of her training, Tessa jabbed at the LCRS display on her console frantically to get something, ANYTHING, in her fighter to do what she told it.  She fired her phasers, photon torpedoes, and tetryon pulse phase cannon strafing the interior of the tunnel she was traveling through and causing multiple explosions.  But she didn’t care about weapons.  All she wanted was a way to control her heading and velocity. 

A proximity alert caused Tessa to squeak as two Klingon Phantoms blasted past her Valkyrie missing her by meters.  She received a transmission from one of the raiders but the universal translator in her comm system was still buggy and when the message appeared in capital letters on her HUD it said:  [ LEARN HOW TO DRIVE. ]

It wasn’t until she had finally cleared the Borg cube that she was able to regain control of her impulse drive and thrusters.  She spotted Lillee’s transponder code and headed in that direction to regroup with her wingmate.

[ Um, attack run complete, ] Tessa bashfully squeaked as she rejoined her squadron.  [ This is Goldeneye.  Rendezvousing with the pack now. ]

---

Objective Five, complete!

[ 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) | Heart of the Azure Nebula ] Attn:
^{@Nolan @Stegro88 @Fife @Havenborn @Doc M. @Griff @Kinvarus @Iron Ferrox}
[Show/Hide]When Devyrie flew the Cinsaj into the Borg cube, she was quickly reminded how delicate the response of her control sleeves were. She could no longer rely on the relative openness of her trajectory, even less so than she'd been able to in the debris field outside. Every twitch, every centimetre she moved her sleeves moved the Reaver accordingly, and the first couple of seconds, she believed they were going to crash into the top of the wide tunnel. Thirty meters vertically wasn't ideal, and sucked a breath through her teeth, and decelerated - just like most of the others who entered the cube. Vaguely, she picked up on other fighters following her. Likely Angel, Bloodwing and Goldeneye, but she couldn't afford to check.

"Have you armed everything?" she called to Drake, who was bleeding from his face but still lit up her weapon systems.

"Armed!" he called, eventually, when they were almost five-hundred meters in.

Dev's green eyes widened. "Brace!" she called, and she had no idea where to go... seeing two Klingon raiders flying straight towards her in the nightmarish darkness of the damaged cube. It was merely sheer luck that made her roll the Reaver to port, just like the Klingons veered off to their port side, and they missed each other by a couple of yards. The micro fusion thruster wake made the Reaver begin to turn. Coming out of the roll was harde and Devyrie impacted with the bottom of the tunnel.

Only Devyrie had activated the transphasic shields, making the Reaver light up the innards of the cube, and bounce off the surface relatively unscathed. She hoped the Wolves behind her didn't collide with the two raiders either. With less than two kilometers of the cube left to fly through, she swore under her breath and checked what she had available in terms of hardpoints. She didn't even know what she carried, exactly, but she did manage to set a delay timer on detonations. She had lost sight of everyone else, but she had a notion that those who shared her tunnel were to the aft of her and out on her starboard side. "Opening fire!"

Barghest cluster bombs shot into the openings of ruptured conduits. Odd, fighter-sized tri-cobalt warheads followed, vanishing into a second area. Then, something called transphasic torpedoes, speeding off into an opening on her starboard side. Two of them, followed by rapid fire of her dual quantum pulse phaser cannons. The bolts stood out because of their blue color, much like the light emissions of a launched quantum torpedo was blue too. She tore the guts of the cube asunder with her cannons alongside her new pack, even though every second might be her last - sight rendered too poor for safe flying because of all the flashing lights. Every moment it lasted frayed on her nerves, and fear threatened to make her release the fire controls on her gloves. She ended up screaming halfway through the cube. Like some kind of battle cry, just to push herself to continue, and not stay her onslaught against the metal monstrosity's insides.

As if returning to a blue sky, the Reaver cleared the cube, emerging on the other side.

And the next moment, all who had left torpedoes behind on a delayed fuse were lit by the fallout. Despite it's size and density, the cube seemed to catch fire within. Soundless detonations hollowing out the internal structure, and flares emanating along the surface. Devyrie had turned the Cinsaj about in time to see it. While the three beams of the Versant had cut the cube open, the density of the cube served to work against it when the Wolves and the Allegiant made their runs. Even Devyrie knew that explosions within hard solid surfaces become amplified two to nine times due to shock wave reflection. That must have been why Ives gave the order.

At that rate, the Cube seemed to have lost its altitude control, for the great monolith of destruction began to slowly keel over in the centre of the debris field. The sight made Devyrie let out a triumphant cry. Perhaps it was silly, but the relief of tension the sight gave her after the run just couldn't be denied. "<You don't like to take it up your fat metal ass?>" she cried in Romulan, curling her upper lip at it, "<Collapse and die, you cunt!>"

That was when, she realised that not all of the Wolves IFFs were accounted for. It might be they had lost two of them in there, in that inferno. Dev made a quick tally, and saw how both Meerkat and Scylla weren't clear of the cube, and since the sensors were shit, it could still be they were. Either that, or destroyed. In any case, in all likelihood, they hadn't made it. "Come on, get out of there..."

So, when the second power spike from the Versant lit her sensors, she couldn't help but feel a bit of trepidation. She hadn't talked to the two White Wolves since the Orcus, and the battle at Starbase 84, and it might be she'd lost them anew. "The Versant is firing again," she said to Mickayla and Drake, and even though they were warned, the bright light still made her squint. Three new lances of aquamarine light speared the capsizing cube, and the toppling movement made the beams carve up new rifts, running straight through the remaining mass. Hollowed out as it had been, more or less, the beams eventually made the cube split up in nine drifting parts. The energy spikes made it impossible to tell if any trapped warp fighters made it out of there, but Devyrie kept her eyes primed until the hail came.

[Mission Ops to the Allegiant and all Lone Wolves, there is no time to dock. Prepare to receive new shield harmonics and follow the Theurgy into the second aperture. Tow those who can't make it there on their own.] Devyrie frowned, and looked beyond the cube and the debris field. The first aperture was still there, only gaping wider... but the Theurgy had just opened a second one, far off to the side of the first. Were they really about to retreat through it? The hail continued. [Before you enter, load the new shields, or you will not make it through to the other side. Please acknowledge.]

What delayed Devyrie's response to Mission Ops... was the movements within that first aperture.

New Borg cubes. A long procession of them. At least ten were within visual range, and they just kept on coming in a long, dreadful march through the subspace tunnel - heading straight for them. "By the Centauri skies... Are we retreating?"

The Versant wasn't done yet. As one, her launchers swivelled towards the broken pieces of the Borg cube, and fired a swarm of full-size tri-cobalt torpedoes. Afterwards, Devyrie wouldn't remember when she set the Reaver in motion again, complying with the orders from Mission Ops, even though she felt like they were leaving the Federation to its fate. While she understood that they couldn't do anything against that many cubes, were they just going to bail out?

"Reaver-Zero-One to Mission Ops... Acknowledged." She had no idea what the plan was, but she would comply with orders.

When she set a course to follow the Theurgy, the hailstorm of torpedoes hit the remains of the Borg cube, tearing up the last chunks of blackened mass asunder.

---

OOC: For this phase of the thread, you have a sequence in which 1) the Lone Wolves and the Allegiant clear the cube, and it's shredded within by the delayed explosions of the torpedoes, 2) the Versant opens fire again, cutting up the capsizing husk of the cube into smaller pieces, 3) orders to follow the Theurgy into a newly opened second aperture comes in from Mission Ops on the Theurgy (likely Stark's voice) 4) the procession of new Borg cubes may be spotted in that first aperture that was opened, approaching them through the subspace tunnel 5) report in to Mission Ops that orders are understood, and you may have to tow fellow Lone Wolves with tractor beams depending on what others post. 6) The Versant fires her ordnance of tri-cobalt torpedoes against the remaining chunks of the first Borg cube, making for nice fireworks. 7) In the end of your posts, your character might or mightn't spot a Type 11 shuttle leaving the Upper Shuttle Bay of the Theurgy, with a single Bajoran life-sign aboard. Furthermore, the Klingon fleet is in retreat as well, warping away out of the area. Even the Cayuga goes to warp, leaving. 8) End your posts with loading the new shield harmonics and following the Theurgy into that second aperture. FYI: those Wolves who returned to the Fighter Assault Bay before the tunnel run have now docked with the Theurgy, and their fighting continues in the tread named Injustice.

[Lt.JG Alessia Garcia – “Angel” (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alessia_Garcia,_callsign_%22Angel%22) |Wolf 06 | Heart of the Azure Nebula | Debris field ]
@Iron Ferrox  @Auctor Lucan  @Triage  @Havenborn  @Doc M.  @Stegro88 @Fife  @Griff  @Nolan 

Having grouped up with her wing after their attack run on the Cube Alessia checked her HUD to see where the rest of the Wolves were, seeing a lot of them scatted around the Cube and the surrounding area although she was sure there were a few missing, hopefully most of them already back on the ship but she'd find that out soon enough.

The pilot was brought out of her thoughts at the sound of an explosion and turned her head to look at the Cube, watching as several explosions tore through the massive vessel, shredding it from the inside out.  "Yeah! Take that you pendejos!" she exclaimed happily as she watched the Cube get torn apart, it certainly was a great sight to see.

The destruction wasn't over though as she watched the Versant open fire on the crippled Cube, watching as it's weapons carved up the devistated Cube into smaller and smaller pieces "Let's see you adapt to that you sons of bitches." she chuckled as she watched the Cube get smaller and smaller in size as it was shredded. Unfortunately she couldn't enjoy the complete destruction of this however as her Comm came to life.

[Mission Ops to the Allegiant and all Lone Wolves, there is no time to dock. Prepare to receive new shield harmonics and follow the Theurgy into the second aperture. Tow those who can't make it there on their own.] Devyrie frowned, and looked beyond the cube and the debris field. The first aperture was still there, only gaping wider... but the Theurgy had just opened a second one, far off to the side of the first. Were they really about to retreat through it? The hail continued. [Before you enter, load the new shields, or you will not make it through to the other side. Please acknowledge.]

Swivelling her head, she spotted the second aperture that the Theurgy had opened and briefly wondered how she had failed to spot that but then again she had been fighting a Borg Cube so it wasn't that big of a deal and altered course to head towards it. As they flew she glanced over at the first aperture and cursed at the sight of all the Borg Cube currently emerging through it.

"Oh shit, yeah it's definately time to go. Fury have you got those new shield harmonics?"

From behind her Fury nodded "Yep, applying them now, we're good to go."

With a nod she adjusted her course to place her fighter behind the Theurgy and activated the Comm "Angel to Mission Ops new shield settings recieved and applied, we're right behind you." she acknowledged.

As she flew past various debris she watched as the Versant fired some tri-cobalt torpedoes at the final remnants of the Borg Cube, taking a moment to enjoy the light show the explosions made, it certainly made for a good fireworks display. The Klingons were in full retreat as well as they started warping out of the area, not too keen on enjoying the show or tackling the newly arriving Borg either it would seem.

As she approched the Theurgy she frowned as she saw a Type 11 shuttle leave the bay "What the...?" she muttered as she ran a quick sensor scan on the craft, noting one Bajoran life sign on it. "Now who the hell is that?" she muttered although she didn't have time to do much else as the Theurgy flew into the aperture.

Taking a quick glance at her HUD to confirm that the new shield harmonics were applied and holding she flew her Valravn into the aperture, another battle successfully survived.

[ Ensign Isel “Foxfire” Nix | Wolf-04 | Debris Field | Azure Nebula ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Stegro88
[Show/Hide]
Foxfire kept her Valkyrie close on Chance’s tail as they made their run through the Borg cube, all the while thinking to herself how insane this day had turned out to be. It occurred to her that this run through the heart of the cube was the most insane undertaking yet as she fired off her ordinance, the torpedoes set on time delays to allow them time to escape. All around her the cube’s deck lay carved open, the Versant’s weapons having cleaved through the cube like nothing she had ever seen. Quick flashes of the cube’s interior streaked by, alcoves and consoles flickering as the Borg attempted to restore power and regain some use of their vessel. That thought caused Isel to smile behind her flight helmet. Let them try. The Lone Wolves were leaving them a nice present that would put a rather immense dent in their efforts.

”We’re almost there, Chance. Stay sharp.” Foxfire called over their comms, her eyes wide and alert as they continued on through the tight quarters of the tunnel. She had just caught sight of blue light further down the tunnel and would be glad to be clear of the cube. This was madness. Isel was last in their little party, with Ravon at the forefront, followed by Ghost and the Klingon Raiders who had joined them. She couldn’t see much of them past Chance’s fighter, but she imagined they were doing much the same as she was. Firing torpedoes into the walls of the tunnel and counting down the seconds until they would be clear of the bloody thing. It was just as that thought cross her mind that Isel saw the flash of Klingon weapons ahead. The idiot pilots must have either gotten overly excited or run out of torpedoes, as they were now firing their disruptors into the walls of the tunnel. As a result, there was now a hail of debris raining down on Chance’s fighter as well as her own, the chunks of broken off scrap impacting her shields and setting alarms blaring inside her cockpit. ”Fucking idiots!!” Isel yelled as she tried to redirect power to her shields, her eyes having caught sight of the blue swirls of the Azure Nebula ahead, closer now. ”What the hell are they…”

She saw it too late, a large piece of cube which had broken off. Ahead of her, Chance’s fighter veered as much as it could to avoid the debris, and Isel had time to start the same sort of maneuver, but not enough to get properly out of the way. The piece slammed into her shields, rocking the Valkyrie and setting a new wave of alarms screeching at her inside the cockpit. Isel let out a long stream of curses of she tried to compensate of the impact. The blue light ahead was larger now and growing closer, but not close enough. The sideways motion caused by the impact caused her Valkyrie’s port side to strike the wall of the tunnel. The last ounces of power her shields had held absorbed the brunt of the impact, but sent her drifting to her starboard side. Foxfire ground her teeth as she fought to gain control, her lips peeled back to bare her teeth at the displays as though she could scare them into obeying her will. The blue swirls of the Azure Nebula grew ever closer, and for a moment Foxfire thought she might just clear the opening. It proved to be just a little too far, however, and her starboard wing impacted the lip of the tunnel as she passed through the opening. The shock of the impact wrenched Isel inside the cockpit as her fighter was thrown into an uncontrolled spin by the strike. Her wing had been partially torn away, and warnings popped up all over her readouts. Starboard impulse, down. Communications, down. Power, unstable. ”Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Isel growled as she desperately tried to correct the spin, her head feeling light from the force of the motion. Inertial dampeners must have been down too. There were so many alerts, it was impossible for her to sort them out.

”Chance, can you hear me? I’m fucked up, I need help!” She called, hoping by some miracle the message would make it through, ”Chance, do you copy?”

A new alert blared then, though it was lost amongst the others. Isel was still fighting to try and right her heading when the console to her left overloaded, the display erupting. Isel didn’t even have time to cry out in alarm as she was thrown hard against the restraints of her seat, the force of the blast coupled with the already considerable strain of the spin sending her spiraling into unconsciousness. The last thing she saw as her eyes drifted shut and the inky darkness of unconsciousness overtook her was a small spider’s web of cracks in her flight helmet, the readouts on her HUD flickering as the cracks disrupted the information being shown on her visor.

As that darkness overtook her, Isel’s mind sent out one last thought, one final plea for help. Donna…

[ Tessa May Lance, callsign:  Goldeneye (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tessa_May_Lance,_callsign_%22Goldeneye%22) | Cockpit | AC-409 Mk III Valkyrie | Ithacae System ]

It was a bit of a struggle, but Tessa finally managed to regroup with the rest of the squadron.  Thankfully they were flying away from the Borg cube instead of towards it.  Tessa’s Heads Up Display informed her that multiple explosions were taking place in the cube, but the flustered pilot couldn’t pay attention:  The area was an obstacle course and her impulse drive was at half power.  A glowing green light illuminated the area and Tessa was momentarily distracted by the sensor readings that revealed that the Savi ship had fired again at the Borg cut and managed to cut it to pieces.  Could it be?  Was their mission a success?  It certainly seemed like it, for right now the Lone Wolves Squadron was heading back to the Theurgy.

As if in confirmation, Tessa heard the voice of Lieutenant Commander Natalie Stark:

[ Mission Ops to the Allegiant and all Lone Wolves, there is no time to dock. Prepare to receive new shield harmonics and follow the Theurgy into the second aperture. Tow those who can't make it there on their own. ]

”Um, aye-aye Mission Ops,” Tessa replied. 

[ Before you enter, load the new shields, or you will not make it through to the other side. Please acknowledge. ]

”Yipes!” Tessa yelped as she frantically ran her hand across her control panel to match the frequency of her shields with those her Valkyrie’s computer had received.  ”Um, I read you Mission Ops, Wolf Seven, Goldeneye, loading new shield harmonics right… now!” she chirped as she updated her shield harmonics.
 
From out of the dust and debris was the silhouette of the Theurgy, the fighters were closing on it now.  Then space seemed to buckle and behind the Theurgy a glowing blue circle appeared, inside was a monstrous tunnel through space whose very existence seemed to encourage cognitive dissonance.  Even more alarming was the glimpse of what appeared to be greyish sugar cubes in the distance.  It took an entire second for Tessa to realize that she was looking at Borg cubes!  More of them were coming!

A second tunnel appeared in space and the Theurgy turned and headed towards that one, and like a bunch of little ducks, all of the Starfleet fighters turned and followed.  Where were they going?  Where would they end up?  Would the Versant close the wormhole and seal off the Borg, and if so how would it do that?  Had anything she did today make a difference?

[ Wolf 07, this is Captain Ziegler.  I know this is unusual, but I just wanted to thank you for actions today.  In real terms you saved us.  You may be Goldeneye, but to us, you'll always be our guardian.  Until we meet again, safe travels. Cayuga out. ]

Tessa smiled weakly.  Maybe something had.

[PO3 Lillee t’Jellaieu (Callsign: Bloodwing) (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Lillee_t%27Jellaieu) | Wolf 08 | Debris Field | Azura Nebula] Attn: @Auctor Lucan, @Doc M., @Kinvarus, @Brutus

[Show/Hide]
The battle was finally reaching its crescendo. As Lillee flew her Valkyrie directly away from the Borg cube, she watched her aft camera feed as the immense battered cube was gutted from within. Other Wolves flew nearby on similar trajectories, too far away to form a unifed formation but at least close enough for comfort, and Lillee breathed a ragged sigh of relief. Behind them, great bursts of flame erupted from the Borg cube's wounds in great jets of destruction, inflicting horrific damage on the vessel's internal systems and finally causing its cubical structure to buckle.

The Borg were beaten.

After clearing the debris field, Lillee slowed her Valkyrie down to simply watch the show, idly diverting her badly strained micro warp core to regenerating her depleted shields. She turned on her axis and watched as the Versant unleashed another devastating salvo. The Borg cube, already reduced to a broken hulk by the internal explosions, its weapons long since silenced, was finally ripped apart by the Versant's powerful beam weapons, massive pieces of wreckage flying in all directions.

The surviving Federation fighters had all of ten seconds to enjoy their victory before reality intruded.

[Mission Ops to the Allegiant and all Lone Wolves, there is no time to dock. Prepare to receive new shield harmonics and follow the Theurgy into the second aperture. Tow those who can't make it there on their own. Before you enter, load the new shields, or you will not make it through to the other side. Please acknowledge.]

Startled, Lillee flipped her Valkyrie back around. The Theurgy now looked just as badly damaged as the Cayuga, with the few surviving Klingon warships looking little better...and then Lillee saw the aperture.

The open aperture.

With immense cube shapes inside, steadily growing larger.

"Mission Ops, Wolf 08 acknowledging," Lillee said hurriedly into her comm as she aimed her Valkyrie at the Theurgy, which was now maneuvering clumsily towards the entrance of another open aperture. The starship was horribly battered, its hull bearing numerous black scars and two of its nacelles ominously dark, but it was blessedly still in the fight. As she quickly reconfigured her shields to the new harmonics, trusting her computer to do the hard work, she sighed with relief as her HUD showed that Salvo was safely docked back on the Theurgy.

Then at a sudden rush of guilt, she checked her HUD again and saw Goldeneye approaching from behind. Too tired to feel anything more than dull relief, Lillee simply decelerated a little, finally slotting into place on Goldeneye's starboard aft quarter as their battered little element moved with everyone else to reunite with the Theurgy and escape through the subspace tunnel.

"Goldeneye, Bloodwing," she said wearily on their element comm channel. "I'm on your wing again. I'm quite ready to leave this Fire-cursed place. Following your lead."

A part of Lillee's mind realised that a dozen Borg cubes were about to invade the Alpha and Beta quadrants, about to run amok and inflict unimaginable devastation as the Theurgy fled the battle. The rest of her mind just didn't too care, too worn down by endless combat and too many brushes with death. She watched the four-nacelled Cayuga fling into warp along with the few surviving Klingons, and Lillee blinked tears of fatigue away. The battle would be over soon. Not long now.

[ Lt Cmdr Thomas 'Razor' Ravon | Kestrel | Heart of the Azure Nebula | Debris field ]

The timer was running out on the bottom right corner of his HUD, the red numbers counting down as their attack run was coming to and end. The tunnel of green and black coming to an end as conduits and smaller explosions fired away around the flight of Raiders and Valkyries. Thomas gritted his teeth together as the timer got to zero. They weren't fucking out yet! As the cube around them began to shake and tremble due to the internal explosions the sound on the voice comms became more panicky. The Klingons urging the lead fighter to pick up more speed as Thomas followed the initial raider, yet scraping his fighter even more so with debris. The explosion from within was right on their tail though.

"Fuck sake, punch it!" he shouted out tot he raider that had taken position in front of him as it somehow managed to overtake the wolf leader in the tunnel run. Thomas armed his phaser cannons as he would blast the raider into oblivion if it didn't move out in time. With some luck though the raider made into the blue hue of the nebula once more, Thomas following quickly as he burned through his thrusters at full speeds. He flipped the ship around again to count the remaining wolves popping out. Yet the explosion was much bigger then anticipated as the cube simple began to break off in various chunks. The impact of the gathered payloads sending a shockwave big enough to cause his ship to veer off as he urged to get control back.

It sent the pack leader out into the debris field of Klingon ships yet he recovered relatively easy with the thrusters and made a course back to the cube as it seemed to have been hit by the Versant once more. Victory seemed to have come at some point in this battle and it brought a smile on Thomas' face for a second before he looked at the open aperture. The new wave of cubes following the open gateway into their quadrant. Was all of this for naught?

[Mission Ops to the Allegiant and all Lone Wolves, there is no time to dock. Prepare to receive new shield harmonics and follow the Theurgy into the second aperture. Tow those who can't make it there on their own. Before you enter, load the new shields, or you will not make it through to the other side. Please acknowledge.]

Thomas could hear the sound off of the remaining wolves and he circled around the battlefield as he watched the Versant with a weary eye. "New shield harmonics confirmed, adjusting now. Razor out." he answered to ops before he noticed a shuttle leave the Theurgy. He frowned as it made little sense why they would send out a shuttle and he contacted mission ops once more "Control, why do we have a shuttle breaking free of the Theurgy? Over."

The Cayuga warped out with a flash and Razor wondered what the hell was going on. A suicide mission for the shuttle? His eyes looked over the remaining might of the Klingon Defense Force. It was in full retreat and ships were warping out as well as Thomas' suspicion was neither confirmed nor denied. He plotted for the Theurgy's trajectory and followed it en suite as he kept his eyes out for any stragglers. Ships that would be unresponsive to their retreat he'd attempt to pick up with a tow. The second aperture would lead them to a new place without a doubt, a safer place hopefully.

[ Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Wolf 03 | Debris Field | Azure Nebula ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Nolan @Kinvarus @Fife @Masorin @Griff @Doc M.
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If Chance hadn’t been wearing her helmet, she was sure that her hair would have been standing on its end, such was the insanity of what they were doing. They were literally flying through the inside of a cube, depositing torpedoes and other ordnance as they passed while dodging drones that were falling though the tunnel; why, Chance had no clue. Triggering off the last of her external weapons, the pair of Hellhound Cluster Bombs, Chance focused on exiting the shaft.

"We're almost there, Chance. Stay sharp." Foxfire called over their comms, and Chance saw the reason why ahead of her. The Klingon Raiders, having expended their ordnance, where now tearing into the innards of the cube with their disruptors, tearing pieces off and filling the tunnel carved by the Versant with chunks of debris. "Fucking idiots!!" Chance heard Foxfire yell. "What the hell are they..."

Chance didn’t have the opportunity at that moment to determine why Isel had stopped speaking as she was completely focused on avoiding a large section of the cube that the Klingons had dislodged. Resisting the urge to slam the yoke sideways, as that would be as equally suicidal as ramming the debris, Chance used a deft touch to slip her fighter up onto its side to slip between the wreckage and the wall of the tunnel. Alarms sounded as both her dorsal and ventral shields were depleted from scraping against the cube and its fallen pieces.

But then she was through and could see the Azure Nebula ahead. Along with all more debris between herself and the relative freedom of the debris field. She wanted to check with Isel that she was ok, but it would have to wait until they exited the cube. The Klingons were doing their utmost to complicate their extraction and Chance had to focus 100 percent or she would still be here when her torps blew.

“Bloody trigger-happy Klingons,” Chance thought to herself as she scraped her fighter under a piece of wreckage, her shield status blaring at her again at how close she had come. “Always making shit harder than it needs to be.” But finally, after several more tight twists and rolls, Chance brought Wolf-03 out of the cube and back into the Azure Nebula. “That was one hell of a ride Foxfire. Now let’s regroup with the others.”

But Foxfire didn’t respond. And a cold feeling began to seep into Chance’s gut. Wolf-04 had been right behind her during the run and some of the gaps she had sent her warp fighter were ridiculously small. Checking her sensors, she at first felt relief that Wolf-04’s transponder was still active and beyond the cube, and then she felt dread when she realised her lover’s craft was in an uncontrolled flat spin with unstable power readings.

“Wolf-03 to Wolf-04, come in Foxfire,” Chance called over coms, begging for an answer but not getting one. “Isel, please respond,” Chance asked again as she flipped her fighter around to close back on her wing mate’s. Catching her first look at the damaged Valkyrie, Chance feared the worst before her sensors were able to confirm that Wolf-04 still contained one Vulpinian life sign. “Oh, thank fuck.”

[Mission Ops to the Allegiant and all Lone Wolves, there is no time to dock. Prepare to receive new shield harmonics and follow the Theurgy into the second aperture. Tow those who can't make it there on their own.]

“Oh, give us a break will you,” Chance muttered.

[Before you enter, load the new shields, or you will not make it through to the other side. Please acknowledge.]

“Shit,” Chance growled out as her computer received the newly distributed harmonics. “If her coms are down, Isel probably hasn’t received any of that. And I am for damn sure not leaving her behind,” Chance promised to herself. “Wolf-03 to Control, orders received and understood. I’ll pick up Wolf-04 on the way. Out.”

Loading and activating the harmonics on her own ship first, Chance then brought her fighter over Foxfires, matching velocities before dropping down in front of it. Powering up her tractor beam, Chance waited for it to come online before trying to catch Foxfire’s craft. She missed on her first attempt, her forward shield’s taking a hit from some debris and throwing her aim off, but her second attempt succeeded.

“Step one complete,” Chance said to herself as she brought her fighter, and consequently Foxfire’s as well, around to line up on the Aperture that the Theurgy had selected for their escape. “Now for the hard part.”

Shortening her tow as much as possible, Chance brought the two craft as close together as she dared before ending her shields around the two warp fighters. This dropped her shield strength dangerously low and Chance was forced to power down her phasers and transfer the power to her shields. Left with just her micro torpedoes to clear any debris in her path, Chance checked again to confirm that there was still a Vulpinian life sign before focusing on the path ahead.

“Chance to all Wolves. I have Foxfire in tow. On limited power. Would appreciate if someone could make sure the road ahead is clear. Chance out.”

[ PO1 Mickayla MacGregor & Devyrie Okhala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Devyrie_Okhala,_callsign_%27%27Dragon%27%27)| Cinsaj's Cockpit | AC-507 Mk I Reaver | Debris Field | Azure Nebula | At Warp ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Stegro88
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---

Mickayla screwed her eyes shut as the Reaver had entered the cub. The last thing she had wanted to see was the innards of a Borg vessel, even if they were blowing it up. Unfortunately, for better or worse, her imagination filled in the blanks of what was happening around her. She listened as Dev and Drake armed the weapons and braced herself on the pilot’s command while trying to focus on something other than what they were doing.

Mickayla had no illusions about her usefulness in this situation; she was effectively dead weight. She was not a pilot, nor versed in ship combat. She was security. Her role was protecting the ship and its crew from threats to their direct persons. If her ship went to red alert, she was to prepare to repel potential boarders, not fire the photon torpedoes. That was Lieutenant Drake’s job. That was Dev’s job.

So, she shut her eyes and tried to shut out the passage of the Reaver through the cube. But she felt the vibrations through the hull of weapons being released. She heard the proclamations from Dev, both in Standard and in Romulan. But it was the announcement that the Versant was firing again that caused Mickayla to open her eyes again. As much as she hated that nightmare vessel, it had literally carved holes through the cube and now, it was aiming to do so again. 

The cube, its insides pulverised by the attack runs, couldn’t withstand a second volley and cracked apart into almost a dozen pieces. Distorted words could be heard coming from Dev’s helmet as the pilot received what Mickayla assumed was new orders from whomever was directing the battle. And then, just as Dev noticed it as well, Mickayla saw movement within the aperture that the cube had been defending. And she didn’t like what she saw. A line of Borg cubes approaching from who knew where.

"By the Centauri skies... Are we retreating?" Dev wondered.

“I would,” Drake answered rhetorically. “The Cayuga is preparing to go to warp, and we should do the same. We’re fast enough and small enough that if we choose a different course, we can escape and warn the others.”

Mickayla thought that what Drake said had merit. Different courses meant that it doubled the chances of the warning getting out. And after glancing at the sensors for a moment, noting that the Cayuga appeared damaged, realised that they were probably the faster. “But how do we explain the warp fighter we are in?” Mickayla wondered as the Versant continued to assault the cube, this time using torpedoes of some variety to target the broken, drifting pieces of wreckage.

"Reaver-Zero-One to Mission Ops... Acknowledged." She had no idea what the plan was, but she would comply with orders as she set a course to follow the Theurgy. 

Devyrie had to remain calm, her command over the controls of the Reaver seemed so hair thin that a wrong move would spiral them or put them out of place. She was the most powerful fighter that Dev had ever touched, but in a way, it also felt like the thing was inside her head, and it made navigating them behind the Theurgy an act of ease, and that was when they got the information from ops of what the plan was. "We are pulling out of the battlefield alright, but the Theurgy can't make the warp jump, and I won't abandon her."

“What do you mean that isn’t the plan?” Drake asked, his tone rising. “We need to leave now. We can still get away.”

"We are leaving." Her voice was calm and measured, but Devyrie was not going to hold up to this cowardly crap. She wasn't going to abandon the Theurgy after all the work they had just put into getting here. "The Theurgy is going through a second aperture and we are going to follow." She almost convinced herself with how much steel she had put into her words, but the truth was she had no idea where that thing was going to put them. 

“No!” Drake exclaimed, pointing down at the sensors. On the screen Mickayla could just make out a group of Federation starships approaching at warp. “There is still time to let them know what has happened. We contact them and everyone goes back to Earth. There will be a full investigation, probably some and you can tell them how you were just following orders. That it was either that or death. It’s time to do the right thing.”

The incoming Federation was a problem. She felt a pang of regret for them. If what Ops was saying was correct, she had no clue if they could outrun the blast. "The apertures are going to be collapsed along with all of subspace and if we stay here, we are fucked royally as well! We'd be stuck out here in a warp fighter without warp! No food, no com systems, there is no time to argue about this we gotta leave."

Mickayla was starting to get concerned. Drake was getting more and more worked up. She had seen this happen in the past when he got passionate about something. She hadn’t been part of the security team that had been to escort him off the bridge of the Endeavour, but she had heard about it later. How he had punched another officer to stop him from locking a tractor beam only a fleeing smuggler.

“I don’t care what you say, I am not going through that thing,” Drake announced, reaching up and reefing on the pilot’s arm and sending the Reaver rolling over itself and turning away from the aperture.

As her arm was pulled, and the Reaver did a sudden flip, she almost felt like her stomach was going to be punched with how quick the inertial dampeners had to pull on them to equal the force of the sudden shift. "The fuck are you doing Drake! Listen that thing is the only way out in time! If we stay here, we will die!"

“Being trapped in a subspace void is not the way I want to go out,” Mickayla thought to herself as Drake and Dev fought over the controls. The Reaver barely managed to miss the drifting remains of a Vor’cha-class cruiser as it responded to the commands from the sleeves. “Neither is being slammed into space junk.”

“Drake, stop reefing on the sleeves. You’re going to kill us,” Mickayla pleaded. “Dev, how sure are you about us being trapped here?”

"If they destroy subspace we loose warp, communication, and a half dozen other systems. So yeah I'm pretty damn sure." To Dev looking at other options weren't very satisfactory. The Cinsaj was more advanced than she really knew what to do with, there was a chance that there were systems aboard it that could keep them alive in a subspace void, but she also didn't want to test that theory, it hinged on too many maybes. The Theurgy was already pulling out, it had an escape plan one that would take seconds with their capability and keep them with the ship and crew they had been sworn to serve.

“It doesn’t matter. We can still escape via warp. This ship can make at least warp 9.5,” Drake stated, his voice rising again. “But we need to leave now,” Drake asserted.

“Is he right?” Mickayla asked the pilot, needed to know the answer. “Can we escape at warp?”

"At warp 9.5, we might be able to get out of the blast zone before detonation, but where would we go!" If they turned back towards the Federation than they would be arrested, if they turned towards the Klingon Empire they would be joining Martok and his crew for a bit, but they would still be wanted criminals.

“Better warp than wherever that leads us,” Drake proclaimed.

"We chose to serve the Theurgy if we leave now than we are betraying the last few morals we have as officers." Not to mention stealing the only evidence they have of the threats that came from the future. "If so again I ask you, if not through that portal where? I have no intention of spending my life in a Federation prison!"

“Dev got us off the Versant. I owe her for that,” Mickayla weighed in her mind. “Escaping at warp would essentially be a prison sentence for her. Probably a very long one no matter what. And that is not the right way to repay someone that will have saved our lives twice.” But then there was the other side of the coin. “If we stay here, we die. Slowly or quickly, but still dead. Or there is the aperture and the Theurgy. They’re traitors to the Federation but I can still be loyal while with them and then do my duty when the opportunity presents itself.”

Dev was struggling for control now, the Cinsaj banking erratically where every single pull made the ship veer off course due to the sensitive nature of the controls. "If you don't let go, than we won't go anywhere!"

“Drake let go of the controls now,” Mickayla ordered her crazed superior officer. “Dev says she can get us to safety, and I believe her. We don’t have time for maybes.”

“Going through that aperture is a maybe!” Drake retorted loudly and angrily. “We don’t know what is on the other end of it.”

“Better the unknown than certain death here,” Mickayla replied. She felt her heartrate spike when she noticed a large piece of something looming in front of them, growing ever larger. “Drake, last warning.”

“Stand down Petty Officer MacGregor, that’s an order!” Drake shouted as he wrenched on the controls again, sending the Reaver into an uncontrolled roll directly at the wreckage.

Dev Braced herself as the impact of the debris dented and scratched against the Cinsaj hopefully they could just buffer that out, but it shook the inside of the ship hurting her shoulder as she struggled to regain control over the fighter.

“NO!” Drake yelled. “Death before dishonour!” Drake grabbed her, and nearly pushed her to the ground, in the moment with Drakes arms atop Dev she had a cold flash back to being held down by a different male, and while she struggled under him, she screamed feeling so cold, and in the moment scared, then angry, but try as she might she wasn't strong enough to push the other off of her. Not while her arms were still locked to the controls.

"Get off of me!"

“I don’t want to die this way,” was the thought that crossed Mickayla’s mind, spurring her into action. Rolling over, the Klingon woman pressed herself up against the Human pilot as much as she could. Pulling her arm back, Mickayla slugged Gideon Drake as hard as she could in the face, pushing her crewmate from the Endeavour off the pilot and slamming his head into the side of the armoured cockpit.

Dev caught her breath in the fall out of the mass chaos. Drake had hurt her from being grabbed, her human body not nearly as sturdy as the half Romulan one she was used too. She was panting and coughed after the struggle trying to regain some strength and stop shaking. After all that had happened to her she didn't really like anyone grabbing her, and she was startled as well. A few tears worked their way past her eyes as she started to recover from the panic attack.

“He’ll be fine. A headache and probably a broken nose,” Mickayla stated, looking at the blood streaming from the tactical officer’s nose. “Nothing a doctor can’t fix. Now get us through that aperture.”

"Don't care!" She said glancing at the man who was unconscious, after what he had just tried to do she kind of hoped that she would never have to see the man again. "I just want off of this fighter."

Ice stuck into Dev's words as she turned her attention back to the ship, and sent them through the apature that The Theurgy had opened at maximum impulse.

[ Lieutenant JG Evelyn Rawley, callsign "Ghost" (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Evelyn_Rawley,_callsign_%22Ghost%22) | Wolf 02 | Cockpit of AC-409 Valkyrie Winterbourne | Azure Nebula ] Attn: @Nolan @Stegro88 @Fife @Havenborn @Doc M. @Griff @Kinvarus
[Show/Hide]Like many other Wolves, Rawley had howled in elation when seeing the Borg cube disintegrate.

Her breath was ragged, heart beating loudly inside her helmet's earpieces, she tasted blood in her mouth after her inertial dampeners went offline, the inside of her exosuit was marinated with her salty egesta, her fighter was battered... but she'd just gutted a cube, so it was bloody worth it in her opinion. With fangs bared, she saw the Versant - which she'd never seen before that day - launch a swarm of torpedoes that her sensors told her were some kind of tri-cobalt variety, and she kept grinning when the drifting parts of the cube was obliterated by the onslaught.

Her grin faded, however, when the hail came, and she saw the reason for the tactical retreat. The multitude of cubes that were due, making her realise that the Klingons, the Theurgy, the Allegiant, the Lone Wolves and the Cayuga had thrown everything they had against the first one, and even then, they might have lost the battle... if it hadn't been for that gargantuan alien axe-ship. She had no idea what was going on with the second aperture being the escape route, much less how they were just about to abandon the fight, but she had virtually nothing left underneath her wings to fire at the vanguard of the Borg. The Klingons were going to warp as well, along with the Cayuga. Bitterly, she ground her teeth and replied to Mission Ops. "This is Wolf-Zero-Two, I've got the minging shield frequency. Joining the pack and following through the aperture."

She also spotted the shuttle that Razor asked about, and the reply from Mission Ops was heard not too long afterwards.

"This is Mission Ops," It was Stark answering on the squadron channel, and there was an odd sort of coldness to her voice, that even the comm system could pick up on. Distant, almost harsh. "Get your birds into that aperture and steer clear of that shuttle. That's carrying..." there was a pause and then, "Its going to stop the Borg. Don't ask how, don't interfere, just get you and your Wolves out of here, now. Thats an order, lead. Acknowledge."

"What?" Rawley exclaimed looking at the shuttle again. "How the bloody hell is..." She trailed off, since she had no time for guesswork. The Theurgy was already through the opening, so she throttled up her Valkyrie and fell in line with the rest of the Pack. The Allegiant was there too, and it looked like it was towing a fighter with its tractor beam. The whole squadron looked like it had flown through a meat grinder and back again, and they were just about to enter some kind of subspace tunnel that looked like the kind you wanted to stay in the centre of, for she had no idea what would happen to a ship that managed to hit the sides of it.

"This is Wolf-Zero-Two, acknowledged," she said, and just like that, they were no longer in the Azure Nebula, leaving the fiery debris field behind in its blue nebula gases. Using her TVD, she turned around and looked at the battlefield, and the last thing she saw was the Versant turning around - banking way too quickly for a ship of that size - and then it went to warp as well, leaving that single shuttle behind in the debris field. Rawley had no idea what was going on, but she couldn't afford to keep looking back....

...since the subspace tunnel wasn't stable.

"Shite," she muttered, eyes wide as the tunnel twisted, forcing the Theurgy, the Allegiant and all the Lone Wolves to give each other enough room to navigate the coiling path, and at the same time, see how the walls encroached upon them. Perhaps they were shifting to accommodate the shifting mass of the group of ships, large and small, but to Rawley, the tunnel looked like some alien throat of sapphire light. As difficult as navigation proved to be, that was not what alarmed her the most.

It was how the Theurgy was blazing through the tunnel as if the devil himself was at their heels. Perhaps it was the Borg... but then again, perhaps there was something else that made the helmsman preform high-impulse stunts inside a narrow corridor of eerie doom - flying a kilometre long Federation dreadnought. Chasing the Theurgy down the rabbit hole, Rawley could see how damaged she was as well, with two nacelles blackened and leaking plasma, and a third one flickering from the stress of the manoeuvres. The hull was laced with bright fires and hull breaches, and she had this sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that the ship might connect with the sides of the tunnel at any moment. Indeed, she really didn't want to know what might happen then.

"Come on, come on..." she muttered, her breathing rapid as she hoped, more than anything, that they would reach the end soon, because the level of concentration required to navigate the thing was a bloody joke. She'd never felt claustrophobia like she did right then, feeling like the shimmering walls were swallowing her, and that she was going down the belly of some alien beast. She didn't even have time to look at her aft sensors to see if the Borg were on their six - following them down to wherever they were heading.

Then... her sensors looked like they had shorted out, and she panicked for a moment. She could no longer see the next turn of the tunnel, flying by her eyes alone. A sense of vertigo came over her, a cold shiver running up her spine since she believed she was about to fly straight into the edge of the tunnel. She throttled down, banking to the side....

...before she realised that they had reached the end. Her sensors just gave her normal space.

"Fuck!" she exclaimed, feeling like she'd been holding her breath since they entered the bloody thing, and the whole flight must have taken a minute. She swallowed, trying to make her heart stop beating as if it wanted to pound its way through her exosuit. She blinked away sweat from her eyes, and took a deep breath. "Wolf-Zero-Two here... I made it through."

Where are we? she thought, because her navigation suite was still re-calibrating to compensate for the sudden shift. She flew away from the opening to the tunnel, giving it a wide berth. At least it's another bloody nebula...

"Requesting permission to dock, over."

---

OOC: This next post is your last one in this thread! Make it count, for the Epilogue will begin with them all docking, and allowing for any kind of closure you guys want to write for your characters in this Episode. :)

[ Tessa May Lance, callsign:  Goldeneye (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tessa_May_Lance,_callsign_%22Goldeneye%22) | Cockpit | AC-409 Mk III Valkyrie | Ithacae System ]

Tessa followed the Theurgy with the other fighters of the motley Lone Wolves Squadron through the wormhole, doing her best to remain in the center of the tunnel and avoiding any of the sides.  Her sensors were useless; she had to navigate by visual.  There was an expression for this kind of flying:  dead reckoning, because if you reckon wrong, you could be dead.  She had no idea what would happen if the wings of her Valkyrie touched the sides of the glowing tunnel through subspace, or even if that was possible, all she knew was that she didn’t want to find out.  In the meantime, it was a struggle to keep her fighter from colliding with one of her pack mates as they bobbed and weaved, rose and dove through the twisty conduit that bypassed conventional space allowing travel to distances that were far out of reach by 24th century warp drive. 

Were they within conventional reality at all?  They must have been, or created a tube shaped pocket of it at any rate because Tessa could feel her fighter’s inertial dampeners struggling to keep up with the changing trajectories that moving through the wormhole while keeping the Theurgy in visual range entailed. 

Was it her imagination or was the subspace tunnel getting narrower the further they went along?  It must have been an optical illusion, just as everything in the tunnel must have been an optical illusion but darned if the Theurgy didn’t appear to be running out of wiggle room. 

Tessa squeaked as she and her fighter were enveloped by darkness.  Her sensors no longer registered gibberish, now they registered nothing at all.  What happened to the glow of the wormhole?  At least she could still see the lights in her cockpit and the lights from the Theurgy and the rest of her squadron around her.  She hit her console in frustration and the readout flickered out to be replaced with a rebooting sequence.  How damaged was her fighter anyhow?  While she waited for her Valk’s systems to come back online she glanced around and noticed that there were pinpoints of light in the darkness around her, stars.  She glanced behind her and saw the glow of the wormhole receding in the distance.  They had exited the wormhole and returned to normal space.

[ Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Wolf 03 | Debris Field | Azure Nebula ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Fife @Kinvarus @Doc M. @Nolan @Havenborn @Griff
[Show/Hide]
Chance had plunged headlong into the opening behind the Theurgy and her fellow wolves without a second thought, making sure that her tractor beam on Foxfire’s fighter stayed strong as she made the transition. And then the cosmic shit hit the galactic fan on a universal scale.

Chance wasn’t exactly sure what she was expecting but a narrow, twisting tunnel that bulged and encroached seemingly at random as they travelled was not high on her list. She moved her fighter a little further from the others to give herself more room to manoeuvre through the confines of the tunnel, but she wasn’t sure if that was going to be enough. Not when the Theurgy suddenly accelerated.

“Fuck me, if they want to commit suicide, they picked the wrong bloody tunnel,” Chance thought to herself as she advanced her throttles. But it wasn’t enough. She didn’t have enough power to maintain the tractor beam, the shield and go fast enough to keep up. And if the Theurgy was accelerating her bulk through this shitstorm, Chance didn’t want to fall behind.

Cursing under her breath, Chance began to shut down everything but what she needed to get through. Engines, tractor beam. That was all she needed. Her navigation systems were next to useless in the tunnel. Her suit could keep her alive, so she shut down life support. That gained her more power and Chance only hoped it would be enough as she transferred the power to her engines and focused on navigating the tunnel.

Time disappeared, each moment lasting an instant and a lifetime. All she could do was watch the fighters ahead of her and the Theurgy beyond and follow their lead through the tunnel. Perhaps it was for the best because as they reached the end, Chance was sure she would have panicked if she hadn’t seen her herself that the others before her disappeared rather than exploded as they reached the end.

As she reached the wall herself, she glanced down at the one system she had kept running. Wolf-04 still had a single Vulpinian life sign.
 

---

[ PO1 Mickayla MacGregor | Cinsaj's Cockpit | AC-507 Mk I Reaver | Debris Field | Azure Nebula | At Warp ]
[Show/Hide]
Mickayla had screwed her eyes shut once again when they plunged into the subspace maw that was the aperture that the Theurgy had decided to use to escape. She didn’t want to see. Her mind was reaching overload; her outburst and punching Lieutenant Drake evidence of that. And she wasn’t sure what would await her when she reached the Theurgy itself.

On one hand, she had struck a superior officer, which would land her in the brig. On the other hand, doing that very same action had potentially saved another officer, one of Theurgy’s own. Maybe they would cheer her instead.

Either way, she’d take that step if and when they made it to the dreadnaught. One step at a time.

[Lt.JG Alessia Garcia – “Angel” (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alessia_Garcia,_callsign_%22Angel%22) |Wolf 06 |  Debris Field | Azure Nebula ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Fife @Stegro88  @Doc M. @Nolan @Havenborn @Griff

As Alessia followed the Theurgy through the subspace tunnel she was very much aware of her surroundings, making sure to keep an equal distance between the Theurgy ahead of her and her fellow Wolves behind her as they all followed the home ship down the tunnel. Occasionally she would glance to her sides, just to make sure the wings of her fighter didn't touch the sides. Granted she didn't know exactly what would happen if the ship did connect with the subspace wall but she was pretty sure it wouldn't be good.

That was of course on top of navigating the subspace waves that came with the tunnel, all of which kept her on her toes as she wondered just how much longer they would be travelling through the tunnel.

She wasn't sure when she first noticed the fact that the tunnel seemed to be closing in on them until her wings were practically rubbing along the subspace wall. "Oh shit!" she cursed but before she could do anything, everything went dark. No subspace tunnel, no stars, no nothing. Even the Valravn's sensors weren't reading anything, it was as if they had just disappeared into the literal void.

"Now what the fuck is this?" she muttered, although as soon as the last word had escaped her lips stars appeared out of nowhere all around them causing the pilot to chuckle. "Well that's one way to transition back to normal space." hearing Fury hum in agreement behind her.

A quick glance at the sensors told her that all her fellow Wolves were emerging from the tunnel, they'd made it. Taking her place as they all the fighters took formation, lining up for their turn to dock.

Devyrie Okhala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Devyrie_Okhala,_callsign_%27%27Dragon%27%27)| Cinsaj's Cockpit | AC-507 Mk I Reaver | Debris Field | Azure Nebula | At Warp ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Stegro88
[Show/Hide]
When no one was grabbing the controls of the Cinsaj than it became much easier to control even with the dents. Devyrie didn't want to focus on the unconscious man, or unpleasant memories that she had been attacked and left with, she wanted to get out of the Reaver's cock pit, and get back onto theurgy, she wanted ten showers, and a clean uniform. She wanted a cup of hot coco, and a bunch of other things, but right now all of her focus was to go through the tunnel.

Which suprisingly was easy. The Cinsaj glided through the aperture with complete ease, her advanced stearing controls making the flight feel seamless. When they were out of the wormhole she let out a soft sigh, it was basically over. There was a bright light behind them, a small tremor as shock wave of the omega explosion went off, and their path out of the azure nebula was cut out.

Devyrie let out a long sigh, as she started to hear the other wolves report in. She activated the coms and gave her own sound off. "The Cinsaj reporting in."

As the other fighters started to move into formation she looked up for a moment, and saw the migrating pod of space whales. The pink creatures had their fins out collecting and sailing on solar winds, The sudden re-emergence into normal space seemed to have forced them to divert course. She looked at them for a moment, turning to Mickayla to make sure that she saw them as well. It was a rare sight, a bit of good luck as it were to see such creatures.

Dev felt a small pain in her heart, Laurel would have loved this site, and Dev silently had to realize that she would never see her sister again. That was perhaps one of the most painful things to accept in all of this. They had survived everything and gotten to this point, but now she had to go alone. She felt tears prick at her eyes for a moment, and swallowed them down. She was still in a warp fighter, there would be time to mourn her sister another day, right now she had to get the fighter back where it belonged.

[ Lt Cmdr Thomas 'Razor' Ravon | Kestrel | Heart of the Azure Nebula | Debris field ]

The eyes of the pilot kept looking at the shuttle with the Bajoran lifesign. He could only guess who it was yet he had a bad feeling about it. The full invasion force of the Borg was showing up and defeat seemed closer then ever. The rest of the wolves scrambled through the aperture, some with help as other could do so with their own strength. Chance and Foxfire were the last stragglers, though they seemed to receive a hand from the Allegiant to exit out of the war zone. With that Razor entered the aperture himself, looking over his shoulder using TVD to try and catch a glimpse of what was about to happen.

The alarms that went off however forced him back to the controls and flight path as the tunnel curved and narrowed. The spectacle of lights around him reminiscing himself about the test run he had conducted with Zrinka Axaigot. In hindsight this would've been perfect training for what was to come. The bittersweet memory only serving as a reminder that he again was part of those who survived, barely that is. Kestrel showed quite some damage according to the system alarms and there were a few systems that had been put offline.

The eyes of Ravon narrowed as the tunnel did the same, his eyes focused on the fighters before him. He could only guess what would happen if he broke out of formation or course. Would he end up somewhere entirely else? Or would he just disintegrate as a whole? It wasn't a theory he'd like to put to use just yet. Though he wondered where they'd end up. Out of the frying pan and into the fire perhaps? There was no more time to think of it as all of a sudden the tunnel seemed to show no alternative route. He braced for whatever would happen before he was dropped back into normal space.

The haze of the nebula they were in was rather blinding at first and Thomas had to adjust his eyesight for a second as he looked at his sensors. Looks like most of them made it and he let out a sigh of relief as he throttled ahead towards the battle scarred Theurgy. He let the rest of the wolves dock first before he contacted Mission Ops "Missions Ops, this is Razor, request docking. Where the hell are we? Over."  This would be the next step, yet it remained to be seen if it would be a step up.

[PO3 Lillee t’Jellaieu (Callsign: Bloodwing) (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Lillee_t%27Jellaieu) | Wolf 08 | Debris Field | Azura Nebula] Attn: @Auctor Lucan, @Doc M., @Stegro88, @Triage, @Kinvarus, @Havenborn

[Show/Hide]
Even as the Wolves reformed into a ragged formation alongside the Theurgy before the gaping aperture, and even as Commander Stark told them of a cryptic plan to stop the Borg, only one thought flicked through Lillee's mind.

By Eisn's Fire, what is it today with all these tunnels!?

Still, there was nothing for it. Perpetually paranoid, Lillee kept rechecking her shields' status as the Theurgy and its Wolves pushed into the aperture. As they entered, the sheer jaw-dropping majesty of the structure hit her full force, roiling with mighty energies that made even the Borg seem puny. The tunnel suddenly banked alarmingly, but in a fighter with undamaged propulsion, navigating it safely was relatively easy, if mildly terrifying. Lillee was trying very hard not to imagine what would happen if one of the fighters or, worst of all, the Theurgy itself brushed the edges of great fiery tunnel. Keeping one eye on her own flying, she watched the battered dreadnought awkwardly bank through turn after turn. Having flown a warbird of the same size, Lillee winced with sympathy as she saw the Theurgy heave to and fro, buffeted by subspace currents as it went.

She realised bleakly that she didn't even know most of her fellow CONN officers, nor had she even met the head of the department, assuming that person hadn't been killed or assimilated in one of the many recent battles. Still she desperately rooted for whoever was piloting the Theurgy, and as the tunnel up ahead began to narrow and darken, moral support turned to prayer, hoping desperately that they'd make it...

And then, finally, after a seeming eternity, they emerged from the tunnel into the beautiful darkness of open space, the stars twinkling merrily. After a week inside the infuriating Azure Nebula, the black star-flecked expanse was a most welcome sight indeed, and Lillee absent-mindedly stayed in formation with the Theurgy and her squadron as they all accelerated away from the aperture behind them.

"We made it," Lillee whispered, sagging as she felt the tension finally drain from her body. "Stars help me, I need a drink..."

- FIN

---

OOC: The story about the Lone Wolves continues in EPIL: S [D06|1140] Wolf Pack Reunited (https://uss-theurgy.com/forum/index.php/topic,2612.0.html), where they dock in the Theurgy's Fighter Assault Bay. You can all post there next! :)