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EP2 BTS | D03 | 0003 hrs] Flammis Acribus Addictis

[Centurion Torak | Corridor | Deck 15 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy]  Attn: @chXinya   and anyone else on Ranger who wants to take part.

Commander Borroso’s orders were clear, take the Starfleet ship identified as Theurgy intact. Easier said than done, but after nearly an hour of bombarding the larger of the two vessels its defenses had started to crumble and Centurion Torak’s assault team, part of the boarding force led by Subcommander Sarata, was able to beam aboard from their cloaked shuttle when the Federation vessel’s shields briefly collapsed. Multiple teams were on board, the main group under Sarata was to attack the fighter bay to prevent anymore of the wasps from escaping their nest and to allow a greater force to land and take control of the ship. The rest of the teams like Torak’s were to attack other areas of the ship, shield generators, security checkpoints, the engineering and command spaces, all to sew chaos and whither the vessel’s resolve. These aliens would pay for the murder of the Praetor.

“Have they detected us?”, Torak asked one of his underlings.

“No Centurion, not yet, I believe the internal sensors of this section of the ship have been damaged.”

“Good, scan for the nearest target and prep demolition charges.”

The underling scanned with his tricorder for a moment then responded, “I am detecting a large shield generator down the corridor and a primary EPS conduit.”

“We will sever the conduit first and then destroy the generator for good measure, I want to regroup with the Subcommander for her attack on the Fighter Bay.”

The underling along with the eight others with Torak acknowledged verbally or with a nod. The group cautiously stalked down the corridor. There was a surprising lack of Starfleet personnel, the Romulan scanning devices could detect lifesigns but they seemed to be in other areas of the ship, perhaps defending more vital ones. This could be easier than we thought, Torak thought to himself with a small smile.

“Lifesigns detected ahead”, whispered one of the underlings.

“Where.”

“Distant ones that I can’t discern their exact location, but there is a human in the next corridor, and an andorian in what appears to be a lab.”

“Disruptors ready, La’anek you're with me, we will take out the human, the rest of you hold here.”

The two carefully stepped down the hall, weapons raised. As they approached the corner into the next corridor they heard the sound of boots walking on the metal deck. Tomak prepared to lunge out and shoot the human but the footsteps suddenly stopped and there was silence apart from the noises of the ship and rumble of weapon impacts.

Do they detect us?

Then came a sound, almost like a bird’s chirp, and a low voice, [Crewman Styles to Security, I think I have something on deck 15 section- AAAGGGGHHHH!!!]

The poor man didn’t get to finish his report, Tomak, wheeled around the corner with his disruptor raised. The human, a Starfleet scientist, had only just started raising his phaser, his eyes full of fear, when Tomak fired, striking the terrified man in chest then neck, silencing his scream of pain. He fell back in a heap on the deck.

Moments later the ship suddenly lurched and shook with a momentous crash that sent the entire group of Romulans off their feet and onto one knee, dust rained down from the ventilation and the lights flickered. What was that?

“They know we are here now, troop with me, move out! Quick!”, Tomak shouted to his cohorts who joined him in a rush down the corridor.

They rounded a corner and came face to face with a pair of Starfleet security officers, no doubt on their way to investigate, but the two were not prepared and were quickly gunned down before they could get off but a few shots. They had to be quick now, he knew from his training that Starfleet security was dangerous once they were aware of a threat, the key was to hit them hard enough they can’t respond effectively.

The group followed the corridor further when suddenly one of the doors opened and a blast of smoke poured out of it. Somebody was in the smoke, gasping for air and clearly not aware of their presence. The smoke cleared revealing a andorian, the one that they must have seen on their scanner, with long white hair and missing an antenna.

One of the Romulans raised his weapon to shoot but Tomak stopped him.

“We’ll take him prisoner, we can get information out of him or use him as a hostage.”

The gunmen nodded and lowered his weapon then approached, along with another comrade, the coughing gasping andorian, a smirk on his face. Weakness, typical Starfleet.


OOC:

-This thread can be used to deal with any boarding parties on Ranger or any other action on Ranger's interior for that matter.

-Currently there are 40 Romulans on board but more may get on depending on if the shields fall again.

-Title translates to "Doomed to flames of woe."

Re: EP2 BTS | D03 | 0003 hrs] Flammis Acribus Addictis

Reply #1 –
[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) | Security Centre | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] @joshs1000 @Dumedion @rae

Lieutenant Zark gripped the master display table with gauntleted hands as she watched the battle unfold in the ship, her sentiment mentally butchered a line from literature that she'd heard another crewman had read at some foggy point in time. It's certainly not the best of time and is trending towards the worst of times.  Her fists balled as she planted them on the central situation table in the security centre while other crew members fought for their lives.  The worst part was she was a woman of action, and having to watch other do the fighting and dying grated on her nerves while she rattled off situations changes and orders as they came up.

She snorted in disgust.  Theurgy was the most advanced and powerful ship in the fleet, and in an individual fight, could take on all comers fairly easily. It didn't matter much in a fight like this since she was being mobbed by many times her number and the surprise betrayal by Donatra's forces had made the situation even more complicated. At least the boarding to the Helmet was being contained and the infiltratora were slowly being subdued.  That sounded much better than eradicated since it was the course of action she really wanted to take.  Everyone was engaged or on their way to reinforce fights in progress.  The most worrying was the auxiliary engineering on Vector 1 since the ship's Deputy was essentially fighting that battle alone, but that Zhen was formidable and it looked like she'd single handily managed to push the surprise assault back.  The approaching Romulans were a concern.

Lt. Zark shifted her gaze to the Ranger as the ship shook and the blare of the intruder alert alarm took priority over the red alert claxon. Her face blanched as Romulan life signs poured in via a cargo bay on deck 19 and began to quickly spread out. Shelat! was her immediate thought. The cursing became more colourful as additional life signs popped up suddenly in several other areas of the ship, the main one being main engineering and her heart dropped as her mind provided the details of the chaos that broke out there.   Additional Romulan life signs appeared outside the battle bridge and the FAB.  "Nina! Alert the crew to the Romulan boarders here and direct all crew members away from that area. Direct immediate security teams to deal with the boarders at the bridge, engineering and the FAB."  Thankfully the majority in the section near the cargo bay didn't have too many combat related systems for the Romulans to affect.  The other ones though were very worrisome.  They certainly moved fast as Starfleet crew members tags on the holo display began winking to various nasty colours of red and black as of the critically injured or the dead, a growing cancerous blight on the ship's schematics.  The Romulan life signs soon became fuzzy as jamming bared across the schematic.  That sealed the decision for her, one she'd hesitated over since it meant that friendlies were going to get caught in the consequences.

Zark's slender grabbed at the hologram and began manipulating a sphere around the penetration from the cargo bay.  She ignored the chatter as other teams moved against the Romulan teams that had beamed in, focusing on at least slowing down the more numerous incursion. Short of beaming the Romulans into space, or putting enough bodies in the way, this next move wasn't likely to stop them for too long. With the sphere set, the medic's fingers punched in a sequence on the keys in front of her and she executed them as she went.

The affected area began to blink with hash marks of red as blast doors slammed shut and emergency force fields activated.  For the umpteenth time, she wished they had immobilization foam built into the intruder systems, but that didn't matter as riot control gas began spraying in to the area. The last one she hesitated over minutely, but mentally shrugged as she typed in more commands routed various air vents towards the boarders while sealing off others. She then typed in the command that would suck the air from the fertilizer storage for the arboretum and began dumping it at high volume while shutting down the environmental recyclers in the area.  It wasn't exactly the same as cutting off oxygen to the area the boarders were in, but it was going to incredibly rank for a good amount of time.  Zark hit another button to inject her voice into the combat chatter. "Romulan boarders on V2 decks 8, 16, V3 deck 25.  More coming in from V3 deck 19."  She took a quick breath before directing teams to their containment locations around the cargo deck assault while more units were sent to reinforce the V2 battle bridge, FAB, and engineering.

Lieutenant Zark turned to Ensign Dubois, her eyes hard and cold. "Ensign, take a team to......"  Whatever order she was going to give died as a new icon showed up on the schematic and blue-green eyes narrowed.  "The Geology lab? That's down the hall!" Zark exclaimed in sudden realization as more boarders appeared with several valuable targets around the Security Centre on Deck 7.  The situation was unravelling with lightning speed.  It didn't help when PO Jeen's call came over the intercom as bedlam literally exploded on the V1 shuttle bay.  The cupboard was emptying out quickly and the situation was becoming grim.  Zark unconsciously hit the general broadcast button.  "Kino, get whatever help you can.  Your closest reinforcements are already on the way.  Maybe grab a fighter, shuttle or something and see if you can use it as air support.  I'm about to have my hands full." 

The Andorian killed the link and turned back to the human Ensign.  "Millie. Take red team and get to the bridge.  I'll take blue team and clear them out of the ones coming this way. Go." The red haired woman acknowledged her order and took off with several exosuited officers in tow.  Zark next turned to a dark haired chief.   "Chief Prince, you'll take green team and follow us, when I have the Romulans pinned, you bypass us and head for engineering."  The human woman blinked in surprise at this move.  "But sir, we can flank and take the ones here out more quickly."  Zark nodded, but held up a hand.  "I know, but if they take engineering, we're fucked." The Chief shut up, then nodded at this.  Seeing she had acceptance, Zark grabbed her rifle from her back and headed towards the exit while relaying final orders.    "Chief Nilson, lock up here, use maximum force to hold this compartment." An acknowledgement followed as she pressed more buttons on her suit PADD.  "Zark to Commander Stark, Cross and Lieutenant zh'Wann, the sitrep is bad, we may need the Klingon's cause here's what's going on..." The Andorian combat medic relayed as she stepped out into the hall followed by more suits of armour.

[ Lieutenant Commander Frank Arnold | Main Engineering | Deck 25 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy]

A few moments earlier....

The burly engineer had a thin sheen of sweat as he barked orders and the ship shook around him.  A crewman ran past and began spraying fire suppressant at a relay panel that exploded.  "Azrin! Direct the beta series fusion batteries the the aft shield generator.  Get those shields back up!"  He yelled then involuntarily flinched as display exploded and a pair of crewman screamed as they were colanderized by the shrapnel.  His finger mashed a comm button. Medics to main engineering. The Chief mentally cursed he worked to manage the damage control teams while keeping the intense power demands of the ship balanced. 

As if to point out that the situation could get worse, his ears picked up the telltale hum of transporter beams, but they didn't sound like Federation standard, too low and hollow. Romulans!  His mind screamed and his head snapped up just in time to see a trio of Romulans materialize in front of him.  An inarticulate and deep roar of war rang out in the engineering space as the boxer swung a meaty fist at the first Romulan before he could even recognize the transport was complete and a sickening crack rang out across the deck as Frank Arnold shoved the boarder's nose into his brain.  The victory wasn't to last though as another boarder swung his rifle at the Chief Engineer in an attempt to butt stroke the human.  It didn't work as Frank blocked the strike and his arm blazed with pain.  It didn't slow down the Chief though as he threw a punch at the Romulan and struck him in the temple before following up with a strike to the chest.  The boarder staggered under the hits, but didn't go down as he swung his rifle to force the human away.  The third boarder near the Chief would have shot him, but he grunted someone hit him in the back with an engineering kit.  The unfortunate engineer soon found himself face to face with a very annoyed Romulan marine and was fighting for his life.

The maelstrom soon picked up as more boarders beamed in and began shooting while Starfleet security flooded in to stem the assault.  The fight became general as the screech of energy fire mixed with screams of desperate combat.  Engineering was now out of action.

Re: EP2 BTS | D03 | 0003 hrs] Flammis Acribus Addictis

Reply #2 –
[CPO Avandar Lok | Flight Deck | Fighter Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @chXinya @RyeTanker @Dumedion @Ellen Fitz
[Show/Hide]

The battle thus far had been relatively quiet for those on the flight deck, just the shaking and lurching of a ship in combat. Sometimes an area in their section would get hit and the improvised damage control team would respond, but beyond that it was just a lot of tense waiting. No fighters had thus far returned, there were reports that Razor was on his way back but nothing came of it and in the chaos of the combat it seemed that nobody informed Lok or anybody else down in the Fighter Bay what was going on. Fairly typical.

Lok sat silently on the floor leaning against a mobile toolbox, most of the rest of the deck crew, beyond those who just couldn’t sit still, were also sitting or laying down, many perhaps trying to be anywhere else in their head and not think about the fact that at any moment the ship could suddenly be vaporized. It was just the way it was for those of the lower decks, putting all their faith and hope into those at the top that they might come out of this alive while those same people they pinned all their hopes on didn’t even know their names or wouldn’t give them the time of day beyond simple pleasantries. Experienced non-commissioned officers like Lok had grown accustomed to this and learned to cope, Lok himself passed this time of uncertainty by calibrating the tools in the very toolbox he was leaning against, but the younger ones, they paced, they look around, they suggested action, something to feel like they were in control.

Sooner or later they’ll get the picture.

Petty Officer Hussein approached, face and coveralls coated in splotches of soot, “we got that fire out in Section 1634, Chief”, she informed while taking a seat with a grunt next to the large cat.

“That’s good, hey can you hand me that torque-”, Lok was cutoff mid-sentence by the familiar voice of that bald headed vulcan once again, his ear perked up to their full height as he listened.

[All hands, this is Lieutenant Commander Cross, we have confirmed reports of hostile boarders across multiple friendly vessels. All personnel are to arm themselves immediately and prepare to repel boarders.]

‘...well shit…alright”, Lok mumbled in annoyance.

He stood up and to his full height and gestured with his clawed hands for those to gather around.

“Ok everyone, we need to be prepared, grab a phaser rifle, keep it with you at all times. We have excellent security teams, we should be fine. Now once you get your rifles I will need the section heads to report back here to me.”

The group split up and headed to the outer walls of the flight deck where cases of weapons and other combat equipment had been stowed, just in case, but one crewman, a bajoran, perhaps no more than eighteen or nineteen, did not. Lok could sense his apprehension and fear, “What’s the matter, Crewman?”

“Chief I uh, I haven’t fired a weapon since basic…and I wasn’t that good, that’s why I became a mechanic.”

Lok nodded knowingly, he imagined the story was the same for most of his guys.

“What’s your name, Crewman?”

“Teeva Begam.”

“Alright Begam, you’re going to stick with me as a runner in case I need ya”, Lok responded with a smile and a pat on the shoulder.

Begam nodded with a small smile of relief then followed the larger man as he made his way over to the gathered group of armed section heads.

Lok discussed with the group the defense strategy for the Fighter Bay, they weren’t security people but some were at least veterans of the Dominion War or some other combat event and knew enough to put up some kind of resistance. The group agreed that a defense in depth was best, they weren’t Starfleet security so falling back to fixed points was a far better option than a tenacious defense if things got too hot. Hopefully security would be able to handle it though, Lok’s deck gang was already spread thin as it was and perimeter defense was the last thing they needed.

The group of deck hands worked fast and erected several barricades in the corridors leading directly into the Fighter Bay as well as near the back of the flight deck itself, each was a choke point that the boarders would have to force their way through in order to reach the bay. Lok didn’t have to be security to know the importance of an enemy force taking control of the flight deck, it would allow them to bypass any security protocols and land extra troops with ease.

He would have preferred something a bit more sturdy than what was thrown together from crates and steel plating, but no sooner had they gotten set up then the word came down that Romulans were on the ship and making their way in force to the Fighter Bay.

“Let’s go go go, take your positions!”

Lok rushed across the deck to his own position, a sort of command post at the final barricade from where he could coordinate the defense. Some security officers had arrived since the call had gone out but much to Lok concern there were not many; he spread them out among the group of mechanics in hopes they would help act as a multiplying factor in repelling the boarders.

The Romulans hit the forward barricades in force, driving off the defenders there quite easily; even the second barricade couldn’t hold out for long under the concentrated onslaught of a well trained fighting force. The Romulans were determined to take the Fighter Bay, but Lok wasn’t going to let that happen. Even as he ordered the defenders at the second barricade to fall back slowly to the final once he glanced over at a spare Valkyrie turret lying near the wall.

“Begam, with me I have an idea.”

Re: EP2 BTS | D03 | 0003 hrs] Flammis Acribus Addictis

Reply #3 –
[Ens. Irnashall “Shall ch’Xinya | Corridor | Deck 15 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy] attn: @joshs1000 @RyeTanker @Dumedion @Ellen Fitz

Eyes squeezed shut thanks to another bought of deep coughs, Shall loses sight of the approaching figures for a few moments as he bites back a bit of bile before spitting some phlegm onto the deck. Sensing the newcomers he blinks the last of the irritating gas out of his eyes while he straightens. “Careful, there are several conduit ruptures in this…” his eyes finally focus enough to realize that while dark, these were not Starfleet uniforms, and those weapons were definitely not Starfleet issue.

Quickly slapping his combadge, Shall did something that was probably pretty stupid while calling “Intruders Deck 15 Stellar Cartography!”: he rushed the pair. Barreling straight into the closest one with he shoulder down, the surprised intruder got bowled right to the deck before he could even react. His parter spat out some sort of Romulan curse and tried to snap a shot off but the Andorian was too close, spinning out of the way and grabbing the raised arm to wrench the disruptor out of his hand. It didn’t work though, netting Shall just a backhand to the nose for his trouble.


The force of the blow forces Shall’s back to the bulkhead, his sense of balance completely thrown off forcing him to take several steps back to correct it. His antenna drew forward as if it was trying to sense where his green-blooded opponent was, and it gave him just enough warning for him to dodge the disruptor blast. Growling in anger, the two stared each other down for a moment, Shall’s blue eyes locked on the Romulan’s black eyes as if daring the other to make a move. Shall acted first, dropping down to a crouch and kicking forward and up. Booted heel smashed right into the the Romulan’s kneecap eliciting a howl of pain, and more importantly, a dropped weapon. Leaping forward, Shall wrapped his arms around the man’s waist in a textbook tackle to bring him down to his back. Landing hard enough to knock the wind out of him, Shall quickly hammered his fist square into the front of the neck, cutting off any chance of getting the air back into his lungs. Smirking in satisfaction, the chan started to push himself back up when he felt something hard press against the back of his head, energy cell whining for discharge.

Seeing their intended prisoner freeze, Tomak glared at the incompetent men who let themselves get bested by a wounded weakling. “Secure his disruptor.” He growled to the one slowly picking himself up while the other wheezed pitifully, hand clutched over his damaged throat. Turning back to Shall he took the Andorian by the arm and hauled him to his feet, disruptor never wavering from his skull. “You will lead us to the Fighter Bay. Any attempt to disrupt or delay us will result in your instant death, do you understand?”

Shall just raised his hands in surrender, staring forward down the corridor. “Fine.” He growled, hoping security heard his call and was already on the way.

Re: EP2 BTS | D03 | 0003 hrs] Flammis Acribus Addictis

Reply #4 –
[Ens. Joseph Adams | Corridor 19A | Deck 14 | Vector 02 USS Theurgy | attn: @joshs1000 @RyeTanker @Dumedion @Ellen Fitz @chXinya

1 hour and 3 minutes of battle had not done these corridors any favours. Joe had been forced to circumvent inaccessible corridors blocked off by fires and forcefields with increasing regularity. The few glances outside of windows he'd been afforded during his duties had only worsened the worry he'd felt in the initial moments. Green light from both friendly and enemy disruptors had filled the windows, with the occasional flash of orange as Theurgy's Type XII Pulse Phaser Arrays spat back against the emerald rain.

[All hands, this is Lieutenant Commander Cross, we have confirmed reports of hostile boarders across multiple friendly vessels. All personnel are to arm themselves immediately and prepare to repel boarders.]

Shit.

Joe had fought people before, yes. But there was a very big difference between performing a martial art in an organised, relatively safe environment and engaging Romulans in open combat. For the first time, his composure threatened to break as he power walked to the nearest armoury to collect a phaser pistol for his own safety.

He'd never shot anyone before. He'd never killed before. And he hoped to whatever god there might be that he wouldn't have to. Did that make him a coward? He thumbed the phaser control dial for a moment, hovering between stun and the kill setting of Level 10 before bringing it back down to stun again. Coward it was.

Further orders almost escaped him. The ship was being fortified. Critical infrastructure was being defended. Defending the EPS conduits seemed less important than defending things like the Warp Core or Torpedo bays. If he were a Romulan invader, that's where he'd try his luck.

Chatter from other anxious officers had gleaned little in the way of actual information. Nothing but paranoid speculation, and very little that even he could latch onto for hope. Only a singular purpose to stack on top of keeping those conduits alive.

Repel Boarders.

What had he noted to himself only an hour ago, when he'd begun his duties of maintaining the conduits? Ah yes, Maintaining EPS conduits was a nasty business whilst there was still electro-plasma running through them.

The idea came to him as he returned to tracking the conduits. Whilst scouring them for a leak, he wondered if he could manufacture a breach just as a Romulan happened to cross his path. A well placed shot from a phaser definitely could, especially in a corridor in such a sorry state as this. He looked around the corridor he'd found himself in. Bulkheads either on the floor or hanging off the frame of the corridor. Lesser conduits sparking and flickering as even the condition lights, pulsing red as they were, seemed dimmer and less functional.

He didn't stray far from the security officers and the defenses they had begun to build. Chokepoints, one of them had said. Key junctions that a boarder would have to pass through to reach critical areas. The corridor he was on had only one, the entire deck devoted to NCO quarters and not much else of note.

Still, they needed to pass through this deck, this corridor, to reach the computer core on Vector 3. 'Tertiary Computer Core' didn't do it justice. Implying that everything would be fine and the two remaining cores could pick up the slack. No. If the boarders took that, they'd gain a major foothold. Not to mention the damage they could do. At least that was what one of the security officers further up the hall was reiterating to their junior. Joe glanced at them as they walked past, tricorder in one hand, keeping track of the conduit, phaser pistol held tightly, perhaps a little too tightly, in the other.

Stepping along in an awkward sidestep, whispers caught his attention once the corridor had grown quiet again. He could hear the officers, 3 in all, further behind him, still setting up barricades. The whispers came from further ahead.

Repel Boarders.

Thumb hovering over the trigger of his phaser, he stepped into an improvised alcove, consisting of a complete lack of bulkhead, into the framing of the corridor itself, and waited. It was far better than nothing and obscured him enough.

Please, let it just be one of ours...

Re: EP2 BTS | D03 | 0003 hrs] Flammis Acribus Addictis

Reply #5 –
[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] @joshs1000 @Dumedion @rae @chXinya @tongieboi @Ellen Fitz @Brutus

The dark armoured figures marched purposefully along the corridor.  Crew members who saw them let out breaths they hadn't realized they were holding as their hearing first picked up the gentle thumps of alloy boots coming closer to them.  When they saw the ominous looking shapes of the Starfleet Exosuit, sighs of relief were let go.  Lieutenant Zark watched this with bare interest as she followed the point man while the suit behind her steadily waved to those crew members to fall back behind the armoured column.  It was probably a job she should have done, but she was too busy reading her suits sensors.  Romulan tech was better than expected, at least in the subterfuge and war fighting department.  At this range, the sensor network of exosuits and internal ship scan should have easily overwhelmed whatever local jamming was going on, but the area she was looking at the intruders was a bit of a fuzz.  Granted, that fuzz was getting smaller as time went on, but not fast enough.  The ship shook from another hit, and this reminded the combat medic why Thea was a bit busy at the moment, and probably didn't have as much time to deal with the problem she was marching to.

The Zhen subconsciously stretched out with her senses that came with repeated close encounters with Jem'Hadar in the past, hopefully giving her some sort of edge in detecting the Romulans first.  On the on the other hand, they did have very sensitive smell, and hearing, so it could all even out.  Definitely a very dangerous situation.  A few more crew members in blue shirts scuttled passed the security team.  Others either in exosuits or in tactical vests held their positions as the reinforcements moved past them.  They then joined the stragglers, who were going to become her reserve or Yellow element.  They were definitely getting close as she felt her antennae tingle and the map showed the distance between the two groups close.  Her breathing became more shallow as her mind worked to figure out what advantages she had.  There were couple, and the first one was coming up.  "Tucker, move and take the corner.  Lewis, opposite side and stack up to the frame.  Stand by with a stun grenade." Zark ordered in an eerily calm voice.  The suit ahead of her moved more quickly to take cover at the intersection, then the suit behind her moved ahead and down the corridor to block the incoming intruders.  "Yellow team, cut through geology lab and standby for my signal to rush them.  Hit em hard, him them fast." Zark and Lewis reached the next frame as the rest of her team took up positions around whatever cover was available while staying out of sight.  "Prince.  Standby." Zark's other team formed a perimeter slightly back.

It was a hasty ambush and it showed as the fuzzy potential hostiles moved towards them, then stopped.  The distance was a little long, but her senses screamed that this was as good as it was going to get.  Zark hit the button on her stun grenade, then tossed it around. Lewis quickly followed and the alloy canisters clanged off the walls as they bounced walls.  A microjet boosted the grenades into the air and an high pitched whine and flash followed.  Romulans yelled or screamed as they were bowled over unconscious, while others flinched away from the bright light.  A high powered pyrotechnic cap detached and blasted itself in fury, adding to the dazed confusion as a physical concussion wave smashed out into the hallway.

"Blue, Yellow! Advance by fire! Prince, initiate site to site transport.  Good luck!"  Zark commanded as Lewis stood up and his rifle began to spite fire into the remaining Romulans.  Zark stood up and followed, targeting a Romulan was who crawling on the ground, grabbing his head in an attempt to clear the disorientation.  The cross hair on the security exosuit's HUD lined up with the invader's body and Zark triggered a burst that sent the boarder into sleepy land.

[Senior Uhlan Jaeih Llweii]

The Romulan marine had been caught off guard like the rest of her section as the Decurion had called the group to a halt and was about to order the unit into battle.  The leader had just gotten his hand on a grenade when the Starfleet version had come bouncing around the corner and figuratively blown up in their faces.  Luckily, the Uhlan was at the back of the column and spared the stun effects from the grenade.  She hadn't been spared the flash concussion though and her ears rang as spots filled her vision. It didn't take much to figure what was coming next. "Fall back!  Fall back!" she yelled over the din of phaser fire.  Several of the team managed to hear her command and they groggily scrambled to their feet as they forced their shocked bodies to comply.  One member at the front grunted as he was blasted in the back and hit the ground with a thump.  Llweii waised her rifle and fired at oncoming dark metaled juggernauts.  The chest plate on the front one exploded in a shower of sparks as a green pulse connected and it crashed to the deck.  The one behind it moved too quickly as the shots zipped past its head.  This one wasn't idle as it sprayed the corridor in orange while Llweii scrambled backwards.  Two more of the boarding party collapsed to the ground, hopefully stunned, but possibly dead.  "Move!  Move!"  Llweii yelled again as she turned and ran.  They needed space.

One marine followed her, the other decided the best way for the rest to escape and join the others was to sacrifice herself as she chaotically sprayed the corridor.  That was the last sight Llweii had of the invader as the two ducked into some room and the door closed behind them.  The last two boarders were breathing hard as they caught their breaths and took stock of what was going on.  Oh how their mission had gone sideways.  Starfleet wasn't supposed to be this hard.  They were supposed to be weaker and usually left the eye to eye fighting to the ones who relished this sort of combat, the Klingons.  Llweii looked into the eye of the last survivor, trying to guage the morale of her fellow straggler.  It didn't matter though another door opened and more Starfleet personnel flooded into the room. "It's over, you're surrounded. Surrender!"  One of them called and the two fugitives weighed their options.  Their lips curled into a sneer and Llweii grabbed the other man's head as he grabbed hers.  Lips crashed and the two took their last bit of pleasure in this world as they seperated and screamed war cries into the room.  Uhlans Llweii and Khellian leaned over the console they'd taken refuge behind and fired.  One man grunted as he was hit full in the chest and knocked back.  Another simply took the hit and stood there returning fire.  Khellian screamed in pain and despair as he was flung back by a searing orange burst that topped him over a chair where he rolled to a rest.

Llweii took cover once more and took a brief moment to look at the body of her final still compatriot.  So, this was it.  She considered herself quite elite as a member of the Empire's armed forces and she would not be taken alive.  Her hand moved to the grenades on her belt and she found it stopped on the plasma explosive. At least she would be able to do some damage she thought as her sneer morphed into a smile.  Then there was a shadow in front of her and a screeching flash of orange, then the world went dark.

[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark)]

Lieutenant Zark surveyed the scene as she lowered her rifle from the last boarder on the deck.  Her lips twitched back and forth as she weighed the fight in her mind.  One man down and being tended to, but he needed medical help badly since his vest hadn't been able to fully stop all the shots.  Lewis was fine, just a bit winded.  Aside from that, plenty of blast damage.  Engineering wasn't going to be happy at all the cleanup they were going to be doing. Zark tapped the communication key as she strode out of the geology lab. "Nihlson, inform higher deck 7 is secure.  Blue with me, we're heading to the FAB. Keep your eyes and ears open, the majority of the boarders are in that area.  Yellow, get these prisoners into cells, then patrol and standby."

The lithe Andorian strolled out into the corridor to see Starfleet personnel binding and dragging the Romulans away.  "Red, green, report." Lieutenant Zark ordered curtly.  Ensign Dubois was quick off the mark.  "We've met stiff resistance, but have the boarders contained.  We should be able to push through to the bridge soon."  Zark mentally nodded. "Acknowledged. Prince?" The reply was quick, heavily punctuated with fire in the background.  "Enemy contact.  I've got two down, but we're making progress."  Zark frowned at this. "Do you need reinforcements?"

"Negative.  I'll be able to push through in the next few minutes."  The Andorian didn't like that reply, but she wasn't the woman on the spot, so she had to trust the experienced Non-com's judgement.  "Acknowledged.  Careful with all the sensitive equipment down there.  No need to make Chief Arnold any more mad than he has to be."  The Chief let out a snort.  "Roger, out."

Zark and the rest of blue team headed towards the turbolifts that would carry them to the FAB, and probably the heart of the enemy incursion. "Nihlson, show blue team enroute to the FAB.  Keep an eye on green. If things look dicey, send yellow in."  Just because one couldn't be present didn't mean one couldn't be prepared for things to go more wrong Zark thought to herself as Nihlson came back with an affirmative and the turbolift door closed.


OOC: What happens to Chief Arnold will be covered soon.

Re: EP2 BTS | D03 | 0003 hrs] Flammis Acribus Addictis

Reply #6 –
[Lt. Commander Cross | Battle Bridge | USS Ranger ] @joshs1000  @Dumedion  @rae  @chXinya  @tongieboi  @RyeTanker  @Brutus

The battle bridge of the Ranger hummed with controlled chaos as Lieutenant Commander Cross stood behind the tactical console, his pale blue eyes scanning the steady stream of data flowing across multiple displays. The familiar weight of command settled on his shoulders as he processed the tactical situation—forty Romulan boarders had infiltrated their vector, and more could arrive if their shields failed again.

"Internal sensors show multiple hostile contacts on decks twelve through fifteen," reported the operations officer, voice tight with strain. "They've taken out several security checkpoints and are moving toward critical systems."

Cross's jaw tightened as he absorbed the information. The boarding parties were targeting shield generators, security checkpoints, engineering spaces, and command areas—a coordinated assault designed to cripple the ship from within.

"Great," he muttered under his breath, running a hand over his shaven scalp. "Thea," he called out. "I need you to coordinate with our security teams. Map the optimal chokepoints on the affected decks and guide our people to advantageous positions. Use internal force fields to compartmentalize the boarders—divide and conquer."

The ship's AI responded with her characteristic efficiency. "Acknowledged, Commander. I am detecting several teams moving toward primary EPS conduits and the main shield generator. Routing security teams to intercept."

Cross turned to the communications officer. "Open a channel to all security teams. Priority Alpha."

The channel crackled to life, and Cross's voice carried throughout the Ranger via comm badges. "All security personnel, this is Cross. We have multiple Romulan boarding parties throughout decks twelve through fifteen. Think of them as really unfriendly tourists who brought their own weapons and terrible attitudes." He paused, allowing himself a dry smile. "Implement Tactical Protocol Seven—systematic sweeps with overlapping coverage. Use the internal sensor network to your advantage, but assume they may have damaged sensors in their operational areas because apparently they don't appreciate our hospitality. Work in teams of four minimum. No heroics—coordinated precision. We're pest control now, people, not action heroes."

He paused, then continued with grim determination laced with weary sarcasm. "Engineering teams, I want immediate damage control parties racing to protect the warp core and shield generators. Medical, establish triage centers on decks ten and sixteen. Bridge crews, maintain coordination between all vectors while we clean house."

The tactical display showed the movements of both friendly and hostile forces throughout the ship. Cross watched as his orders began to take effect—security teams converging on key positions, force fields creating barriers that would funnel the Romulans into killing zones.

"Sir," called the communications officer, "Chancellor Martok is hailing us from his flagship."

"On screen," Cross ordered, turning to face the viewscreen as the imposing figure of the Klingon Chancellor appeared, his weathered face set in a fierce scowl.

["Commander Cross,"] Martok's gravelly voice filled the bridge, speaking in accented Federation Standard. ["Your ship cries out like a wounded targ. I have been given note that Romulan p'tahk defile your decks with their presence."]

Cross straightened, meeting the Chancellor's gaze, wondering just how in the hell the Chancellor had figured out about the situation but not having the time to address it. "Chancellor, I appreciate your concern. We're implementing counter-boarding procedures, but—"

["Procedures!"] Martok's bark of laughter held no humor. ["This is no time for Starfleet procedures, Cross. This requires Klingon justice. I will send two squads of my finest warriors to assist your hunt. They know how to deal with Romulan boarders—quickly and permanently. These warriors grow idle while we fight outside our hulls."]

Cross felt a genuine smile tug at the corner of his mouth for the first time in hours. "You know what, Chancellor? For once, someone's offering to make my day easier instead of exponentially more complicated. I accept your generous offer of heavily armed Klingon problem-solvers. Have your warriors beam directly to deck fourteen, section twelve. I'll have our security teams provide tactical coordination. I don't want your prized warriors getting their asses shot off by accident." He paused, adding with dry humor, "Just remember—we need some prisoners for intelligence. I know it goes against every Klingon instinct, but try to leave a few of them in one piece. Preferably conscious and capable of forming complete sentences."

Martok's grin was predatory. ["My warriors will remember... most of the time. Qapla', Cross. Let us show these Romulans what happens when they board a ship allied with the Empire."]

As the channel closed, Cross turned back to his tactical display, shaking his head with a mixture of amusement and exhaustion. The addition of Klingon warriors would significantly tip the balance in their favor. The Romulans had chosen to fight on the Klingon's doorstep—they were about to learn they'd also be facing Klingon fury.

"Thea, coordinate with the incoming Klingon teams. Designate our security personnel as tactical support and intelligence gathering. Let the Klingons lead the direct assaults—they'll appreciate that, and it plays to their strengths. Think of it as providing them with premium entertainment while we handle the boring paperwork afterward."

"Understood, Commander. Adjusting tactical parameters accordingly," Thea replied, and Cross could swear he heard a note of amusement in the AI's voice.

Cross moved to the communications station personally, inputting the frequency for the Helmet's bridge. The connection crackled with static—evidence of the punishment the other vector was taking from the Romulan fleet.

"Helmet bridge, this is Commander Cross aboard the Ranger. We're currently implementing systematic counter-boarding operations with Klingon support" He paused, glancing at his tactical display where hostile contacts were being systematically eliminated. "Two squads of Chancellor Martok's warriors are joining our security teams to eliminate the Romulan infiltrators." Cross rubbed his temple where a headache was forming. "We're using coordinated sweeps with Thea providing tactical coordination and internal force fields to create chokepoints." He paused, checking his tactical display again. "What's your status? Do you need assistance with your own boarding situations, or can we spare additional resources to support your external battle?"

As he waited for the response, Cross felt the familiar mixture of determination and controlled aggression that had served him well in previous battles, tempered now by a kind of weary humor born from surviving too many impossible situations.

Re: EP2 BTS | D03 | 0003 hrs] Flammis Acribus Addictis

Reply #7 –
[LT Arven Leux | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | V2 | The Ranger] Attn: @Ellen Fitz @joshs1000 @rae @chXinya @tongieboi @RyeTanker
[Show/Hide]

“This is intolerable,” Arven muttered under his breath for perhaps the dozenth time, braced over the operating table and the bloody, broken body of the unconscious crewman he was trying to save. Sparks flew from an overloaded conduit from under the console to his right, shorting out the biomed feeds; power fluctuated as the Ranger suffered under a particularly hellacious assault. “Quinn, get us auxillary power – priority draw – get us back online,” he hollered over his shoulder at the nearest nurse. Between bouts of ship quakes, constant interruptions from beleaguered crew that stumbled in seeking treatment and pausing to answer questions and/or attempt to control and coordinate the few medical personnel that hadn’t been dispatched to Vector 3’s clinic – as well as standard aid stations for triage per standard battle-stations procedure – both the Doctor and the staff were stretched dangerously thin.

As soon as the ship stopped trying to throw him (and everyone) around the room, Leux returned to work: attempting to regrow and resecure the man’s superior vena cava – which had been nearly completely severed from the main-organ, along with a host of severe tissue trauma to the surrounding area. The man's heart had been nearly cleaved in two, essentially, and If Arven couldn’t seal the damage, or if power failed completely, that would be it; another crew member lost, another name to remember.

Cross’ voice cut in amongst the chaos then, with his wonderfully succinct proclamation of Leux' worst nightmare made manifest; he handled it pretty well, given the circumstances.

“Fantastic,” Arven grumbled sarcastically, “really. That’s great news.”

Quinn got the biomeds online just in time to verify what Arven could already feel, wrist deep in the patient’s chest cavity: Without the artificial pumps to circulate oxygenated blood, and the micro-fields to and nano-sutures to stem the horrific wounds, the patient had bled out and died in seconds.

Leux sighed through his teeth and pulled his hands free, then peeled the gloves off without preamble. “He’s gone,” the Doctor deadpanned, then turned to Quinn. “Bag him up. Get ready for the next one,” he nodded, then made to leave the surgery suite. “Grab a phaser first,” he added over his shoulder – then stepped out into the crowded main hall of sickbay. Patients were everywhere, in various stages of suffering. He’d tried to keep them contained by severity, sending the worst to the ICU/PCU; that had worked for about thirty minutes or so – but the injured, wounded, and dying just kept coming.

“I need anyone that can stand, and shoot, posted at the entrances,” he shouted, knowing they all heard the same thing he had. “Last thing we all need is a pack of blood-hungry marauders running amok in here,” Arven added under his breath while he made his way to the bay’s only arms locker, keyed in his access code, then pulled a side-arm. There were only six of them, and two rifles.

His eyes narrowed with a frown, turning the weapon over in his hands. “Does anyone remember how the hell to arm these things?”

Several groans answered simultaneously.

“Red is kill blue is stun – figure it out!” Kitty yelled from the other side of the ward.

Arven’s face pulled into a mocking sneer as he mimed her quietly. “So glad you know these things, barbarian,” he added in a sardonic drawl, then set the weapon to stun and attached it to his hip. With a clap of his hands and his typical mirthless smile, Leux took in the room while the staff armed themselves along with a few wounded volunteers. “Alright, who’s next?”

Quinn looked like he had died of exhaustion three days ago and forgot to lay down. “Bolian, head trauma. He’s on bed 3 in ICU.”

The Doctor nodded and headed in that direction, then tapped his badge. “Leux to Pax, how are you holding up down there,” he asked. There was no answer, so he tried again. “Vector 3 sickbay, respond.” Another tap. “Sickbay to Security. I’m not getting any response from Vector 3 clinic. I’d go down there, but we’re knee deep in wounded here. I’d appreciate it if you’d investigate the situation.”

He entered the ICU, packed to capacity, and got back to work trying to save who he could. In the back of his mind though, Arven knew he couldn’t save them all. The ship shuddered and rocked again, drowning out the incoming hail from his combadge; he couldn’t understand the words, but he understood the screams and sounds of death well enough.

“This is Leux, say again,” he strained, braced between two biobeds.

[“A-Arven…t-they’re coming,”] Pax gurgled, barely audible over the sounds of weapons fire.

OOC – to be continued, with attempted Klingon romance as promised

Re: EP2 BTS | D03 | 0003 hrs] Flammis Acribus Addictis

Reply #8 –
[ Lt. JG Nysarisiza “Nysari” zh’Eziarath | Battle Bridge | Deck 8 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @joshs1000 @RyeTanker @chXinya @tongieboi @Ellen Fitz @Dumedion
[Show/Hide]
…The cannon fired a beam directly into the Praetor’s body, and the woman fell limp.

“Praetor Tal’Aura,” Captain Ives spoke evenly as the woman slowly came to, “I am Captain Ives of the USS Theurgy. Do not be alarmed. We mean you no harm.”

“Then…why am I…where am I…” Tal’Aura shook her head from side to side, blinking Ives into focus. “What have you done to me?”

“We have exposed you to a device that works to subdue the parasite that was implanted within you.” Ives gestured toward Lucan. “You are not alone in acting as an unwilling host. But let this moment serve as hope that you need not continue to be used against your will.”

Tal’Aura glared at Lucan, quickly noting the forcefield with a lip curl of distaste. Returning her attention to Ives, she squared her shoulders. “I am myself, captain. Do they still need to hold me like a prisoner when you have just made claims that you mean me no harm?”

“Are you aware that a fleet of Romulan ships is presently speeding towards the Romulan-Klingon border to break through the Neutral Zone and commit an act of war against the Federation?”

Tal’Aura gathered her robes and rose to her full height, shorter than Ives, yet still managed to stare down her nose at him. “By whose orders?”

“Yours.”

“How is that possible?”
 
Not for the first time in her life, Nysari praised the Federation’s obsession with record keeping. Starfleet was particularly adept. The Allegiant had monitored Tal’aura from the moment the Praetor beamed aboard to the moment of her death. A rather gruesome death, one that Nysari hadn’t been present for, and wasn’t planning on adding to her initial transmission. She wanted Tal’aura’s forces to understand that they were fighting a war for nothing, and sending them a video of the Theurgy officers killing their praetor wouldn’t help, no matter what the transmission showed inside her.

She’d seen a similar video on Qo’nos, which was what had given her the idea in the first place. Even though she knew what was coming this time, watching the parasite die in another unwilling host was just as profoundly disturbing. So while the other officers on the battle bridge fought the battle outside, the boarders inside, or kept the ship functioning in the midst of both problems, she had quickly scanned through the Allegiant’s surveillance until she had the best clip.

Nysari only paused when someone handed her a phaser. She knew it was only a precautionary measure, hopefully the boarders would be subdued long before they reached the battle bridge and she could return the weapon without ever firing it. But she still hated having one again. She’d been armed more during her few weeks on the Theurgy than her whole life before it.

After strapping it to her side, she reconfigured her console to a communications array, and started looking for ways to punch through to the Romulan ships. “Commander Cross, permission to send a transmission to Tal’aura’s forces? I want to show them that they are not acting under the former praetor’s orders, but rather the parasite inside her.”

[ Lt. Azrin Ryn | Main Engineering | Deck 25 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy ]
[Show/Hide]
“Shields, shields, shields, shieeeeeellllllldddddddddsssssssss,” Azrin whispered to herself, turning the words into a little song. She wasn’t much of a lyricist, and she was fairly certain that she was stealing the tune. Not that it mattered, because no one was listening anyway. Even if she was shouting, they would still have trouble hearing her over the noise. Besides, the impromptu ditty was keeping her focused, and Frank wanted her to work on the shields.

Luckily for everyone, Azrin really could rewire the ship in her sleep. She’d had a lot of practice these last few weeks.

“No one is supposed to transport here. The transporter room is one deck up,” she complained idly while remotely cycling a port shield generator. Hopefully it worked from the console, or someone would have to go crawling through the jefferies tubes. Azrin recognized the new sound instantly as a transporter, but she did not realize what was happening, instead thinking that the coordinates had slipped en route to Transporter Room 5. “Gotta have someone check that. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to transport right next to the warp core? If you’re off by a thousandth of a decimal point… boom!”

The generator’s readout flickered back to green. “Huh, didn’t expect that to work.” Her life was never that easy. “Hey, someone needs to go up to the transporter room and–” she turned to offer a tricorder to whoever was next to her – if she was taking them, might as well give them the tools – and found herself facing a Romulan. “Oh. That makes so much more sense.”

Facing a Romulan disruptor, the sounds of physical combat finally reaching her ears, Azrin did the first thing that came to mind. She threw the tricorder at him and immediately ducked. She hoped that she’d hit him in the eye, but she wasn’t about to stick around and find out.

Azrin was not a fighter. She’d passed her mandatory phaser training with a minimum score. Her main physical activity was crawling through decks of the ship. Even in action holodeck programs, she preferred to solve problems with engineering solutions rather than physical combat. When someone pointed a weapon at her, her immediate instinct was to run away. Or crawl away, in today’s case. It wasn’t dignified. She could hear a deep throated roar that could only be from Frank, and she was certain that the big engineer was leading the counterattack as a department head should. Azrin rolled beneath a console, pulled open the nearest panel she could reach from her hiding place, and took a quick look at what she had to work with.

“Shouldn’t have picked this one. Other way. Next time there’s an invasion, duck between his legs! There was way better stuff under that console. But this will…” A few taps of various buttons, a swapped isolinear chips, then one more flip of a switch and…

The artificial gravity in main engineering turned off, and suddenly everyone was floating.

“That’s not what I meant!” Azrin shouted, reaching to turn it back on, and sending everyone back to the ground with a crash. Then she was scurrying out to a new hiding place, staying low to the ground as disruptor and phaser bolts crashed overhead. “I shouldn’t have wiped that modification from the fire control systems. That would have been perfect.”

OOC: Thought it would be more fun to draw out fighting the boarders with quick engineering modifications for a few posts. Take bets on whether or not she effects the whole ship next time.

Re: EP2 BTS | D03 | 0003 hrs] Flammis Acribus Addictis

Reply #9 –
[Master Zakar al-Ahlaad | Corridor | Deck 15 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy]  Attn: @RyeTanker  @chXinya  @tongieboi  @Ellen Fitz  @Dumedion  @rae 

Tavik, I really am lost, Zakar grumbled silently to himself, and I thought Agaros was a maze, this alien ship is massive.

The Arosan Marine had been one of those attached to a Starfleet security team responding to some sort of enemy presence on this deck, but the group was ambushed along the way and in the chaotic attempt to break it, Zakar got separated and lost his rifle in the process. Getting separated was one thing, but losing his weapon, hardly a good look for a Master Marine in his 122nd year, 102 of those having faithfully served his people, though he always liked to think in spirit he had been born to be a Marine. Either way he could expect a ceremonial chewing out from Commander al-Zaheer, the two had been friends for years, having met when Hassar was but a gunnery cadet and Zakar a specialist.

With only his side arm and a daggar, Zakar carefully made his way through the similar corridors, his only real indicator that he was making progress was that the numbers on the doors were different. How do these people live like this? It’s like living in a hospital, so sterile. His thoughts were jarred by the sound of an energy weapon discharge and the familiar chaotic noises of a scuffle. He picked up the pace until he reached a junction of the corridor and peered around the corridor just in time to see a blue alien, he had no idea what any of these aliens were called yet, kneeling with a weapon pointed at his head. These enemies, Romulans, if he remembered the briefing correctly, seemed to be very savage attackers and the likelihood that this blue Starfleet alien would survive the next few minutes were low. He had to act quickly.

There were five enemies that he could see, one, probably the leader, with the weapon pointed at the alien, two were on the ground but slowly getting to their feet, the other two were behind the first three with weapons raised, most importantly though they were all facing away. Zakar left cover and, with years of practice, darted silently up behind the closest enemy, dagger in his left hand, pistol in his right, and in one swift motion stabbed the large blade directly into the man’s neck then pushed forward out through the throat. The brutal attack was quick and the Romulan would not be able to shout. He started to make his move on the next enemy.

“You will lead us to the Fighter Bay. Any attempt to disrupt or delay us will result in your instant death, do you understand?”

The blue alien was on his feet now with hands raised, he said something that Zakar could not hear, but either he did not notice the attack that the Marine had just made or was intentionally not giving away what was happening. The point was moot however when one of the enemies that was getting to his feet saw Zakar and shouted. Zakar had been about to repeat his similar attack on the next Romulan but as the combatant started to turn around in surprise from the shout, he simply swung his blade diagonally across the man’s back, slashing through the armor and flesh, but most importantly part of the spine, like it was nothing. The Romulan screamed in pain as he fell to the floor.

What happened next all happened in the span of a few seconds. The leader turned around in surprise and confusion, Zakar raised his pistol and fired, the bullet struck the Romulan in the heart, but it also continued on through his body and grazed the blue alien’s side. Before the Romulan leader had even hit the ground, Zakar turned his weapon on the next closest combatant, one of the ones that had been in the process of standing up, and fired two times, striking the man in the chest and neck. He again turned his weapon to the final combatant, but unlike the others, this one had enough time to fire back, the green bolt struck him in the armored bit of his left upper arm, though he felt no pain for the moment due to the adrenaline. In response he fired two shots, one missed and hit the deck behind the Romulan with a loud ping but the second found its mark between the Romulan’s eyes and he went down.

Zakar panted as he looked down the trembling sights of his gun and for the first time realized his hand was shaking, in fact his whole body was shaking, such was the intensity of the moment. He had been in combat before, but never alone. He caught his breath to regain his composure, though as he did so he became acutely aware of the painful burning sensation on his left arm.

He approached the blue alien, “You alright, Starfleet?”

Before the blue alien could answer that he further added, “Also do you know how to get to the Fighter Bay?”


OOC:

-Tavik is a curse word that generally is considered the lewd slang for sex and can thus be most closely translated to “fuck” but is often used in various contexts as a harsher form of profanity than the word frak which itself has no direct translation.

[CPO Avandar Lok | Flight Deck | Fighter Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] [Show/Hide]

The two crewmen darted across the flight deck to the waiting cannon. Lok threw off the dust cover, a stray disruptor bolt caught the nylon fabric, leaving a neat smoldering hole. Be careful, idiot.

“Begam, I need a number five auto-spanner, an extra tricorder, some opti-cable, and find a flexi-conduitt with Type 9-C connectors!” Lok shouted over the din as the battle began to pick up on the Fighter Bay.

The Romulans had been hot on the heels of the retreating defenders, no sooner had they taken cover behind the final barrier did the boarders burst through the starboard side access doors. The attackers were prepared, as they entered they tossed what appeared to be black metal hockey pucks onto the floor that immediately formed barrier force fields to prove cover in the open space. The fields, a deep translucent orange color, quickly showed they could withstand a good deal of punishment as the defending Starfleet personnel opened fire on the Romulan intruders. Some Romulans, not able to get behind their barriers in time were gunned down but many were able to get into cover and fight back. The flight deck was now a battlefield as phaser blasts and disruptor bolts crisscrossed through the air.

Another disruptor bolt whizzed past Lok and hit the transparent aluminum wall with a thud and sizzling sound, but the kzinti was too busy to worry about it. He needed to be able to aim and fire the cannon so once he got one of the panels open he immediately jammed lengths of opti-cable into the control ports that would normally link the cannon with a Valkyrie’s systems then attached the other ends of the cable into diagnostic slots in the tricorder. Next, Lok, using the diagnostic program as a base which registered the cannon in its system, wrote a quick and dirty program to allow him to use certain diagnostic functions as controls, really all he needed was to see the power levels, use the basic in-built cannon targeting system, and of course fire the weapon. Begam, meanwhile, was hooking the flexi-conduit into the cannon’s power slot then running it back to an open access panel on the floor to plug it directly into the ship’s EPS conduits. Normally this would be done to power the large plasma cutters they occasionally needed for cutting extra large pieces of duranium, but in this case it was a perfect power source in lieu of a Valkyrie reactor.

Within minutes the program was ready and indicating the weapon was powered, though on the verge of overload, the ship’s power systems were a bit more potent than that of a Valkyrie, but perhaps they could deal with the overload problem by just firing the damn thing. “Ok I think that’s got it, you pay that cable out and keep low, I’ll move the cannon to the barricade!”

Lok reached down and activated the anti-gravity sled that the cannon was sitting on and stood up to start pushing. Suddenly he felt an intense pain like somebody had hit the right side of his back with a sledgehammer. He struggled to breath as he slumped against the cannon and slid down to his knees. What the hell was that, he wondered, seemingly not understanding or not wanting to understand that he had just been shot. He struggled for breath and after a few coughs finally sucked in air, but it felt like a struggle, at least he could breathe again though.

“Are you alright Chief!” Begam shouted in concern.

“Yeah…I just got the wind knocked out of me…is all…help me push”, Lok responded with labored breaths.

Staying a bit lower this time, Lok got into a good spot on the gun and started to push it across the deck towards the barricade. The Romulans seemed to figure out what he and Begam were up to a large amount of disruptor bolts started to head their way, with several hitting the body of the cannon itself, but luckily only scorching its robust exterior. Finally the two got the gun up to the barricade, much to the excitement of several deck crew and security officers there. Lok, however, felt quite weak and collapsed against the barricade, nearly ripping out the opti-cables as he stumbled.

“Chief, you’ve been hit!” Somebody shouted.

“I’ll be fine”, he responded with a dismissive wave.

“I need two people to get on the back and aim this”, he instructed the handed the tricorder to one of the security officers, “there’s your targeting reticle, that’s how you fire, and that tells you if you are going to overload it.”

The security officer took the tricorder. Lok felt exhausted, his eyes were having trouble focusing, and the din of battle sounded miles away. Everything started to get dim as any sound at all was replaced with an excruciating ringing noise. A strained, “shit”, was all Lok could muster before losing consciousness.

Of course while he was going through all of that, his comrades had noticed how badly he had been hit and were already trying to get him taken care of with the primary issue being that he was over two meters tall and weighed 167 kilos.

“Holy shit, he weighs a ton”, one of the crewmen grunted as she and another crewman pushed the large unconscious cat onto his side enough to get a look at his wound. A rather large disruptor burn on the right side of his back that had gone pretty deep exposing muscle tissue; but more worrying was the fact that Lok was bleeding, A LOT, either the disruptor had an anti-coagulative property to it, similar to Jem’Hadar weapons, or something to do with kzinti anatomy meant that his blood would not coagulate. A large puddle of deep crimson had already formed under the Chief and the back of his coveralls were badly stained. Someone ran over with a medpack and immediately applied a bandage over the wound but it quickly became saturated with blood.

“We need to get him to Sickbay or he’s going to bleed out!” Begam shouted to the group who were not medics and seemed to have no idea what to do. “Are the emergency medical transporters working?”

“I don’t know, comms have been screwy for us”, the nearby security officer responded.

“Hopefully they work”, Begam murmured and tapped his combadge, [Emergency medical transport, lock on my badge.]

For a moment it seemed like nothing would happen but then the familiar shimmer surrounded Begam and Lok as they faded away.

This left Petty Officer Hussein in charge for the moment, but the defense was holding. As for the cannon, it took a few tries to get it working. While the drama with Lok’s injury was occurring several other deck crew messed with the weapon’s setting until finally it came to life. The Starfleet personnel turned it on the Romulan attackers and fired the first shot, which missed and struck the starboard side fighter operations room, shattering the glass and destroying some equipment inside. Even this near miss, though, gave the Romulans a moment of pause. Adjusting their aim, the crew fired again, this time hitting one of the portable barricades and taking out a handful of Romulans, but the impromptu piece of artillery proved finicky outside its natural habitat and immediately stopped working. The skilled deck hands went to work to get it operational again.

[Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy]

The duo shimmered into existence in the packed receiving area. Lok’s bandage was already too soaked in blood to be useful as he started to bleed out on the floor of the Sickbay.

“He needs help!” Begam shouted to anyone in the vicinity.

Nurse Kitty was there within moments as she pushed Begam out of the way, “I’m gonna need strong hands here, this is a big one!”

Several unwounded crew and nurses rushed over to assist her in lifting Lok onto an anti-gravity stretcher. Once he was on, face down so his back could be properly examined, Kitty removed the bandage to expose the wound, rather gnarly, it depth had exposed muscle tissue and scans with a tricorder indicated the burns extended to his lung tissue as well, but what was a bigger concern to her was the bleeding that did not seem to stop. He would need surgery most likely, but in the meantime there were some things she could do to slow the process.

“Get me a hypospray of Sangualoft and another of Cuastaline”, she ordered.

The drugs came quickly. First she injected the Sangualoft, a drug to stimulate blood production until proper transfusions could be given; next came the Cuastaline, a simple drug to help blood coagulate properly; hopefully both would slow the rate of blood loss until Arven could stop it all together and heal the injury. Before they moved the large cat, she suddenly remembered this patient from the other day, he tried to beam Arven in the head with a PADD, but in the notes Arven left there was mention that kzinti needed to be injected in multiple places in order for drugs to take proper effect. Diligently she made two more injections of each drug.

“Ok, let’s get him into surgery.”

The stretcher was pushed past the throngs of wounded and into one of the unoccupied surgery suites. With as gentle a heave as they could, the nurse and her assistants dragged the big cat onto the surgery bed and started to cut away his coveralls, apparently Lok’s only clothes, to prep him for surgery. The fur on his back, normally a healthy glossy black, was saturated with blood and matted down where much of it had dried. It actually proved rather difficult to remove some of the shredded coveralls without ripping out any of the fur but the nurses attending to it were quick but gentle. Kitty left to find Arven, V-Nine was already busy in the other suite so was not available for the moment. She rushed back out into the corridor and found the good Doctor in a conversation with someone over comms but did not catch what was happening due tot he commotion of the ward.

“Doctor, you are needed in Surgery 2, kzinti, dorsal wound, heavy bleeding, no coagulation.”


OOC:

-Beyond interactions with Arven and the medical staff, Lok is out of the action for the moment.

Re: EP2 BTS | D03 | 0003 hrs] Flammis Acribus Addictis

Reply #10 –
[Ens. Irnashall “Shall ch’Xinya | Corridor | Deck 15 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy] attn: @RyeTanker @joshs1000 @tongieboi @Ellen Fitz @Dumedion @rae

Hands up in the hope it wouldn’t get him nailed in the back by a disruptor immediately, Shall took his first steps down the corridor wondering how far away he could lead the Romulans away from the Fighter Bay before getting that shot anyways. He only got a step or two in before the blood-curdling scream filled the corridor from behind both officers, blue and green-toned heads turning in unison to see what that was about. Shall’s eyes widened and antenna raised in surprise when he saw the ridged head of a very not-Romulan soldier standing above the falling body, bloody blade in one hand and his other raising something with a barrel. Time slowed to a crawl as the chan started to turn and angle his arm for an elbow to his captor’s distracted head, but munitions were much faster.

The shot was deafening in the corridor and Shall felt the Romulan’s green blood splatter on his face as the man’s torso exploded from within. Tasting the copper, the Andorian reeled back and thumped against the bulkhead in shock while his rescuer deftly eliminated the rest of the squad. Ears ringing from the multitude of mini-explosions in such a confined space all he could do was breathe and try to wipe the blood off of his face before he swallowed any of it. It was when he went to wipe his hands on his uniform that he realized he was leaking his own blue blood out of his side. The pain and burning sensation hit all at once and he hissed in response, pressing his hand to the wound to try to stem the bleeding. It didn’t look that bad at a glance, and felt more like when he once got a bad cut in an accident so he didn’t think it was anything more than a flesh wound.

The newcomer’s face appeared in his vision, pulling Shall back to the situation at hand. The air stunk of combustibles and copper and the man reeked of the latter especially, but experience pushed that out of his mind for now. Nodding in answer to the first question the second came right after, so fast that he wasn’t even sure they were different sentences. “I’ve had worse, nothing a medkit can’t fix.” He nodded forward down the corridor, “FAB’s that way, down one deck. Just let me stop at an equipment locker on the way.”

Taking the lead in a much more friendlier way, the chan glanced back at his rescuer. “I’m guessing you came over with Hassar? Bumped into him a few hours ago.” He started, just filling the air. Spotting one of the emergency lockers, Shall diverted to it and quickly tapped in his code to open one. Grabbing a phaser and strapping it to his uninjured side, he took the medkit next and opened it right away. A quick tricorder check proved that it was just a flesh wound and it seamlessly programmed the regenerator automatically. Grabbing that next and running it along the gash, Shall plucked the hypospray out of the kit and handed it over before angling his head to expose his neck. “Just press that against my skin and push the button, it’s loaded with painkillers and coagulants.”

The relief was nearly instant as the drugs worked through his neck muscles and leeched into the bloodstream and new flesh peeked through the tear in his uniform. It wouldn’t look pretty if he took his shirt off, but at least he wasn’t leaking all over the deck now. Quickly replacing the medical tools back into the kit Shall threw it over his shoulder and closed the locker again, feeling much better. “Remind me to get you a drink when this is all over.” He said as a way of thanks, clapping the bigger man on the shoulder before continuing down to the nearest Jeffries Tube access.

Re: EP2 BTS | D03 | 0003 hrs] Flammis Acribus Addictis

Reply #11 –
[ Lt. Commander Cross | Battle Bridge | USS Ranger ]  attn: @RyeTanker  @joshs1000  @tongieboi @chXinya  @Dumedion  @rae

The comm from Stark had come through laced with strain, though her words carried the steady iron of command: [“We’ve been better, Mr. Cross. We’re currently playing chicken with a bunch of giant rocks, and two Romulan warbirds. We too have our own borders to deal with. I wouldn’t say no to a few extra hands, but realistically, make sure you secure the Ranger first and foremost.”]

There was a pause, and in that pause he noted the same thing Stark had likely just had reported: —the Erudite had gone to warp. One less card on the table. If it hadn’t been seen as too unprofessional of him, Cross might’ve been tempted to spit on the floor in good riddance. The Savi fuckers had been more trouble than they were worth in his opinion, but he doubted Frank or those in engineering would agree.

Stark’s voice came back over the channel. [“Commander Cross, see to the Ranger. You’re going to get very busy over there. We’ll keep the ones on our tail distracted and out of the fray. Do whatever you can to even the odds for yourself. We’ll swing around and help once we deal with our own friends. Godspeed, Ranger.”]

His gaze snapped to the viewscreen in time to catch the Helmet’s desperate gambit—the debris-flinging maneuver that scattered their pursuers. He snorted. Clever move. But the smile was short-lived. Tactical alarms screamed as fresh Romulan fighters swarmed into the battlespace. Cross’s hand hovered over his console, his jaw tightening.

“Bloody hell, as if we didn’t have enough of the bastards,” he muttered under his breath.

He flicked open the running log: too many already deployed, with still more to come. A glance at the ordnance check gave him little comfort—torpedo spreads and phaser banks still green, but the buffer for mistakes was gone.

Suddenly, Lieutenant Nysari’s voice cut through the bridge noise: [“Commander Cross, permission to send a transmission to Tal’aura’s forces? I want to show them that they are not acting under the former praetor’s orders, but rather the parasite inside her.”]

“Do it,” Cross replied instantly, tone sharp but supportive. “If words’ll break their resolve, then let’s bloody break it.”

Before he could follow the transmission through, a new voice thundered across the open channel—Colonel Xiomek of the Khopesh:

“This is Colonel Xiomek of the Khopesh. I speak for the United Reman–Romulan Empire. The Praetor’s blockades are broken. Romulus is open. Freedom of movement is restored. Senators Vkruvux and tr’Rehu of the Dhiovhaekh Coalition stand witness to these words. Romulans—cast off the chains of a corrupt Praetor and a false Empress. Rise. Take back your freedom. A new dawn is here.”

Cross frowned at the declaration, suspicion, and wary hope mingling in equal measure. He’d heard too many speeches promising “new dawns.” And yet—if true—this one might just turn the tide. “Let’s see if the bastards mean it,” he muttered, eyes locked on the tactical plot.

“Commander,” came the sharp call from ops, “three warbirds closing on Chancellor Martok’s flagship. His shields are buckling—they won’t hold much longer.”

Cross’s expression hardened. If Martok fell, the Klingon front shattered with him. He drew a steady breath, voice ironclad as it rolled across the bridge.

“Helm—bring us between those warbirds and Martok. We’re the hat over his head now. Shields to maximum forward arc. Tactical—concentrate fire on the lead ship.”

The Ranger surged into position, phasers blazing and torpedoes streaking toward the nearest warbird. The retaliation was immediate—green lances of disruptor fire hammered into her forward shields, rocking the ship so hard the bridge crew strained against their restraints. Cross grimaced at the flashing status indicators: shields buckling, hull integrity bleeding from stress fractures. They’d already taken too much punishment on the desperate run to save Revad. Another storm like this and the Ranger wouldn’t hold.

“Return fire!” he barked.

The tactical officer obeyed, losing another spread. Two torpedoes smashed into the warbird’s dorsal spine, the blasts ripping through shielding already weakened by the Ranger’s phasers. The Romulan vessel shuddered, venting atmosphere as whole sections went dark. Its weapons fire stuttered and then ceased altogether, the warbird listing off-vector, crippled.

A harsh exhale escaped Cross’s chest—part satisfaction, part weary disbelief. “One down,” he growled, “two more to go.”

The Ranger rocked again under enemy fire, her shields screaming for relief. Cross’s hand tightened on the console, knuckles pale.

“Hold the line,” he ordered, voice a raw growl above the din.

Re: EP2 BTS | D03 | 0003 hrs] Flammis Acribus Addictis

Reply #12 –
[Ens. Joseph Adams | Corridor 19A | Deck 14 | Vector 02 USS Theurgy | attn: @joshs1000 @RyeTanker @Dumedion @Ellen Fitz @chXinya


The whispers had stopped just as they'd began to sound close. Joe's paltry little hiding place, hardly acceptable to even a children's game did its job well enough for him to spy Romulans without being detected. Three of them. Each armed with a rifle and sidearm. Typical, haughty superior expressions on their faces. They knew about the security staff up ahead, but they didn't know about him. The logical calculation turned in his head. He would be found as they advanced through the corridor. Either they capture him or worse, or...

The conclusion was clear. Joe waited until his discovery seemed inevitable before he fired his phaser pistol. Both an attack and an announcement of his presence. His phaser beam nailed the one on the left of the corridor, closest to his hiding spot, in the shoulder. A glancing blow but enough to deaden the arm. Joe exploded out of his little alcove, it having outlived its usefulness. A disruptor beam hissed past his head as he launched himself to the opposite wall of the corridor, pistol levelling another shot.

He'd caught them by surprise, that was the saving grace of the otherwise idiotic idea. The three Romulans had each been in varying states of readiness as they'd marched toward the security checkpoint ahead, but none of them had believed that an officer would leap out at them from the shadows.

Because no self respecting Starfleet Officer would ever be so stupid.

The one in the middle cursed in her native tongue. Her uniform was a little more fine, a little more well kept and polished. This was likely the one in charge. Joe would have targeted them next, if the one on the left didn't already bring his weapon to bear. His decision had been made for him, and at such close a range, perhaps 1 or 2 metres, there was no way he could miss.

The phaser beam cut slightly downward, landing in the abdomen, a little to the right, under the Romulan on the right's sternum, where the stomach was in a human. If Joe had been a little more aware of his own thoughts, he'd have recalled that the Romulan heart, like a Vulcan's, was located where a human Liver would be. And that he'd narrowly missed keeping it down for the rest of the fight. He might have also checked to see if he'd struck the Romulan plainly or if they were wearing some manner of armour to protect them from retaliation.

Instead the Romulan collapsed, dazed and maybe winded. Out of the battle for the moment, but not likely to stay down. Yes, he was wearing armour. Joe could see that now, the armour had absorbed the worst of the blast. Something between a chestplate and chainmail, and in true Romulan fashion, it had a fractal like pattern that seemed as decorative as it was functional. He wouldn't stay down for long.

He quietly cursed himself for not having the foresight to switch his pistol to a wide beam setting as the Romulan fell to his knees. Throwing himself backward toward the deck to fire again. The erratic movement was somehow keeping him alive, but he was running out of luck. The Romulan on the left of the corridor had begun to adjust himself to force feeling back into his arm and their leader, likely a Sub-Lieutenant, adjusted the aim of her rifle. They were beginning to catch on.

Sub-Lieutenant Sorrula |  Corridor 19A | Deck 14 | Vector 02 USS Theurgy

Sorrula's first command had not gone to plan. She was ever-meticulous and organised. As such, she served as an example to her Uhlan and subordinates. At least that was how she liked to believe. She had worked hard enough to gain her new station, and it had paid off. She was one of the first Romulans to board and take Theurgy in the name of the Empire.

Her entire squad consisted of inexperienced and green soldiers and Uhlans. There was not a senior officer to be found. She supposed that made them expendable in the eyes of her superiors. She disagreed. She was not expendable, she was hungry. She knew her squad was much the same. Two Uhlans, six of the common soldiery, and herself at the apex. All of them eager to prove themselves. Such was their eagerness that they'd been nicknamed "The 13th Thraiin squad". 13 being their squad number, and the Thrai a stubborn native to Romulus, one almost as persistent and ferocious as they were, despite their smaller size. The parallel had made her smile, despite herself, when she'd first heard it.

She had divided the squad into three parts. Each of them would attack the Tertiary Computer Core from a different angle. All going well, they would overwhelm the enemy in only a few moments. They had foolishly positioned themselves at a junction in the corridor, towards the doors to the core. No space for retreat, no room for deception. What was it that the human philosopher had said? All Warfare is based on deception? How easily they sacrificed tactical advantages in favour of heroic last stands. How very....Starfleet.

Her orders had been delivered in low whispers. With the squad split in three, they were numerically lacking, and so she'd decided to surprise the Starfleet dogs with plasma grenades. Three of them, all throwing a grenade would flush the enemy from their paltry barriers and into the sights of their rifles. Perhaps before the rest of her squad arrived from their own junctions to take the checkpoint themselves.

A textbook strategy. As she'd been taught at the Romulan academy. Just as they'd drilled on holodecks during the journey to this sector of space. Each time, the squad she had led personally had been the tip of the spear. The first to make contact....

And then, as she mused on her previous successes, some Ensign had sprung out of nowhere. Perhaps mad and believing himself invincible. Perhaps he thought that such bold action would catch her off guard. It did not. She was merely surprised at the idiocy that the human so plainly displayed. So much so, she'd allowed an expletive to slip from her lips, quite unbecoming of an officer of her station.

Was this what passed for tactical training in the Federation? She wondered this as she fired, though the human had already leapt to the other side of the corridor, forcing her to leave a small mark of scorched carpet and an adjustment to correct her aim. Mere luck. It would not last. She thought this, even as the colleague to her left winced as his arm was numbed, and the right doubled over from a shot to the torso.

Her aim corrected, the Sub-Lieutenant fired before the gnat could fire a third time. Whilst the Starfleet idiot flopped and fumbled on the floor to avoid the disruptor beam, she tasted blood upon the air. A huntress through and through. In typical Federation weakness, that pistol was set to stun, but she would grant no such mercy. Disruptors had no stun setting, and she wasn't about to let the irritating Starfleet gnat waste any more of her time.

[Ens. Joseph Adams | The floor of Corridor 19A | Deck 14 | Vector 02 USS Theurgy |

The disruptor blast had grazed his shin, shredding a cut in his trousers just below the knee and searing the skin under it. The sting caused Joe to hiss, as his pistol wavered. Last chance. He fired towards the Sub-Lieutenant, his back against the deck and in an almost foetal position. He caught the cocky Romulan right between her stupid, narrow eyebrows.

The Romulan crumpled to the ground, her eyebrows narrowed in focus now raised in surprise. But in her place, the Romulan he'd incapacitated before had begun to stand again. And the first Romulan had managed to level the heavy disruptor rifle towards his vulnerable self.

And it was this precise moment, Joe realised, that things went from bad, to bizarre. A large shape charged past him, shoulder tackling the left Romulan into the bulkhead to his left and denting it under the sheer force of impact. The right Romulan turned towards the large shape which looked very Klingon-esque, before a disruptor blast from behind Joe lifted the Romulan off his feet and caused him to fall beside his commander.

[ Da' Droz, Son of Graltul |  Corridor 19A | Deck 14 | Vector 02 USS Theurgy |


This was not Droz Graltul's first time aboard a Starfleet vessel. Nor was it his first time fighting Romulans. It was, however, his first time fighting Romulans aboard a Starfleet vessel. Whilst he was still a Bekk, Droz had fought in the Dominion War beside Romulans and Starfleet Officers. How quickly things changed. The thought made him smile sardonically. Chancellor Martok had sent 2 squads of his best men. They were his best men, he reminded himself with a surge of pride. Romulan Killers, saviours of even the mighty Starfleet!  He and Bekk Evoll, son of Vruch had split from one such squad shortly after their arrival on Deck 14, section 12 to reinforce the defences for the Tertiary Computer Core. Pausing only to coordinate with the existing security presence outside, their keen senses had picked up weapons fire further up the corridor.

And what joy Droz felt! Such was his eagerness to meet the Romulan trespassers, that he sprinted full force towards them like an enraged Targ, slamming into the Romulan on the left and carrying him into the bulkhead with his momentum.

Droz felt a satisfying cracking as the Romulan he'd crushed between himself and the bulkhead began to cave inward. So occupied with the human on the floor that he'd not even maintained basic situational awareness.

He stepped back and let the Romulan fall, watching him gasping for air, before stomping on his head, hard. Rendering the opponent unconscious. Now, Droz decided, he would draw his disruptor. Some pragmatism returning to him as his companion shot down the other Romulan.

"There is too little of them!"

He roared, somewhere between annoyance and open outrage, once he'd realised the battle was already over. There was supposed to be more!

"How can the Romulans hope to achieve anything with such paltry numbers?!"

No, the rest of the Romulan P'takh were hiding somewhere. Likely massing for an attack. Or merely waiting for an opportune moment to strike.

Droz looked around the corridor before spotting the officer on the ground, reaching down a hand. Huffing slightly at the inconvenience of the human's slowness and surprise. Eventually, Droz grew tired of Joe's hesitation and simply hoisted him up with one hand.

"Get up! There's no use grovelling on the floor like an Arpethian Mud Snake! We have a ship to defend!"


[Ens. Joseph Adams | The floor of Corridor 19A | Deck 14 | Vector 02 USS Theurgy |

Joe stood up, ignoring the sting of his wounded shin. His surprise at beholding the Klingons had faded, and now he had the good sense to increase the power to his pistol. Intending to compensate for the Romulan's armour. Only a small increase in power, but perhaps enough.

He felt the Klingon roughly push him back towards the security checkpoint and glared back at him. He'd interacted with plenty of Klingons, and so he knew a warrior when he saw one. The Disruptor Rifle and Bat'leth were enough of a giveaway.

"I owe you one, but my legs are fine."

He said with all the confidence he could muster, despite the breathlessness in his voice. Worn from diving around the corridor to avoid disruptor blasts. He hastened his step lightly, just to discourage Droz from the idea that he needed help keeping up.

"What are you doing here? Not that I'm not grateful..."

"Your ship has need of warriors. The Chancellor obliged."

Came the gruff reply. The Klingon gestured to himself, then his companion in introduction.

"I am Droz, son of Gratul. This is Evoll, son of Vruch. And you are?"

"Joseph Adams...People prefer to call me Joe..."

Joe responded as he walked. He supposed he had to make things even and look out for the two Klingons whilst they lingered here on Deck 14. As if reading his mind, Droz continued talking, leading the trio back to the Tertiary Computer Core.

"Well then, Joe, son of Adam. You can repay your debt by assisting us in the defence of that room."

Oh joy. More shootouts.

Re: EP2 BTS | D03 | 0003 hrs] Flammis Acribus Addictis

Reply #13 –
[Lieutenant Commander Frank Arnold | Main Engineering | Deck 25 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy]
@joshs1000 @Dumedion @rae @chXinya @tongieboi @Ellen Fitz @Brutus

The big pugilist engineer rushed the Romulan marine.  It was the only option available.  He gave too much time, and the Romulan would simply shoot him. His opponent had anticipated and he lifted his rifle up as the big human crashed into him.  Frank felt the crash of the high density muscles hit his back and he grunted as pain flared across his broad shoulders.  The hit had worked, since it had thrown the strike off and had missed his head.  The running tackle knocked the boarder over and the two tumbled to the ground  with a whoosh of air from the two, but Frank had been mostly expecting this result and he felt the back of head crash into the chin of the Romulan as he jerked it up as fast as he could.  There was a crunch and the back of his head hurt like the devil, but there wasn't time.  The entire broad body hurled forward as Frank brought his arm up and all his weight backed the battering ram that smashed into the down Romulan's head.  The Romulan knew he was in the shit and flailed wildly and a meaty fist slammed into the Chief and he grunted as his body was knocked off and Chief Arnold tasted blood from the hit.  He had to get back into the fight and fast.

Except the world had other ideas and he sort of remembered Azrin blabbering on about something technical, or at least it seemed technical, then physics seemed to fail as he felt himself begin to float.  He wanted to yell at his assistant, but his mind recognized she'd done as his foot pushed off the floor at his assailant.  All his forward momentum transferred into the Romulan as the two connected and Frank suddenly found himself flung past his target and grunted as a solid kick pushed him off.  He flailed momentarily and grunted louder as he careened off a column and crashed into panel above a work station back into open air.  The Romulan grappled for his weapon and was swinging it in his direction and Frank knew he was either going to sleep for a long time, or die right there.  His hand scrambled for the phaser at his hip and he just got his hand on it when Azrin made some other comment and he saw her hand insert the chip to reverse what ever it was she had pulled and he braced his legs as artificial gravity took hold once more and he came down.  He was a tough man, but still an older man and he let out a groan as he landed on his feet.

The Romulan had somewhat less luck as he hit the ground and the Chief grimaced as his opponent's reflex pulled the trigger, sending a green energy bolt past his head.  A screen shattered from the hit and sprayed glass over the deck.  Strength born of desperation helped the phaser come off the hip and get pointed at the boarder.  It was his turn now to see his life flash before his eyes as an orange beam screeched out.  And his breath was still being held as the shot missed, causing the Chief to mentally curse and grit his teeth as he adjusted his aim and fired again.  It was a close range shot and the engineer's aim was a little to true as the orange beam connected with the Romulan's head and his body went still.  There was no time to breathe though as he looked around and saw another Romulan finish knocking over one of his staff and shoot him in the chest.  Uniform, tissue, and blood all vaporized as the energy bolts slammed into him, ending his life.  The edges of the Chief's vision turned red with rage as his rolled on his back and aimed his weapon at his crews murderer and pressed the firing stud.  A beam sizzled by the Romulan's head, then another by his torso.  The marine realized he was under fire and turned on his attacker.  It was his last mistake as a shot hit him below the elbow, and his weapon began to drop.  Chief Arnold realized he needed a moment and took a breath as he focused on his target, then fired once more.  It's said that under all that veneer of civilization, every human is that wild blood thristy animal.  Maybe that was what came out as the Chief fired and the Romulan flopped back as he took the next shot to the neck. 

The chaos increased as the doors to main engineering opened and armoured suits burst in firing.  Romulans began dropping as energy bolts slammed into, sending them hurtling to the deck.  A few tried to return fire, but were quickly cut down.  One managed it and an armoured suit staggered in a shower of sparks.  The security crewman's fire became slightly less accurate as they pulled the trigger and Chief Arnold's face turned to one of horror as a few shots hit the energy shield surrounding the warp core.  He was about to rip the shooter a new asshole when the security person corrected and hit his assailant.  The Chief turned to check the status of the core when he saw the last Romulan deliver a short vicious kick to Azrin's chest, then bodily pick her up by the neck. The Trill's hands immediately grabbed on to her kidnapper, to avoid having her neck broken, and he began dragging her away while using her body as a shield. Frank ducked for cover as wild fire came in his direction as he looked for a way to free his assistant.  His hand tapped his combadge and his voice was strained as he hoped for some sort of solution to materialize.  "Chief Arnold to bridge and security.  The Romulan's are mostly neutralized, but there's one left and he's got Azrin as a body shield."

Re: EP2 BTS | D03 | 0003 hrs] Flammis Acribus Addictis

Reply #14 –
[LT Arven Leux | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | V2 | The Ranger] Attn: @Ellen Fitz  @joshs1000  @rae  @chXinya  @tongieboi  @RyeTanker
[Show/Hide]

The ship shook again as Arven clamped a hand-sized device around the left side of the unconscious Bolian’s cranium – directly over the ugly, discolored bruise there – while the patient’s eyes twitched in nerve spasms. The superficial head wound had been sealed easily enough; tissue regeneration after a mild dose of alchemical growth stimulants mixed with a dash of antibacterial booster – nothing out of the ordinary. It was the internal hemorrhaging pressure that would take longer to treat. An injury like that, where bleeding equated to pressure, where the patient’s own bodily fluid became its own adversary, could easily have been fatal if not for the wonders of modern medicine.

“Rescan both left hemisphere ganglia after this cycles,” Arven paused during another tremor, his attention pulled to the side of the room where a nurse crouched over a burn victim trying to run a regen unit over the woman’s face. “Patch that and move on – we don’t have time for full regen,” he corrected, then returned his gaze to the Bolian. “Right quadrants seem unaffected but these quad-lobers love to turn complicated with the slightest bruise.”

The nurse blinked at his choice of words. “That…really sounds inappropriate, Doctor.”

Arven waved the comment aside. “Just run the scan,” his tired violet eyes narrowed. “And get a sense of humor.”

Everything was coming to a head. The battle showed no signs of abating, V1 sickbay had been attacked or massacred (he had no way of knowing), his staff was running on fumes and Arven himself felt every moment of the last two days weighing him down and slowing his mind. Abruptly, another EPS conduit blew from the lab replication station on the far wall. Arven shielded the Bolian with his back from the blast, holding on to the medical bed: sparks cascaded over him with a peppered sting, but luckily no shrapnel. Why Starfleet engineers decided to build everything out of compounds that turned into tiny molten blobs of hyperdense particles that could shred their way through most species, he would never understand.

The next second, he was being called into surgery.

“Kzinti,” Arven blinked, then nodded after a breath. “Hastings, Joval, hold the fort – I’ll have Kitty cycle through when she can,” he told the attending nurses as he made his exit. The ensign that summoned him, a young lad whose name he couldn’t place to save his life, looked like he’d just wrestled a furred monster; sweat beaded his face, while his uniform was matted with blood and hair. “Status,” the Doctor inquired as they made their way through the throngs of patients and volunteer crew aiding them.

The ensign handed over a PADD as he answered. “BP/HB elevated, blood loss at 29.8% and rising. Patient is unconscious, borderline hypovolemic.”

Arven shook his head as they entered the surgical suite; what parts of it that weren’t damaged – mostly the biobed, and a solitary console/scanner – the far wall had been charred to ruin when the decontam chamber next door had nearly exploded earlier during the battle. “Something else is wrong – his redundant circulatory system isn’t kicking in to marginalize the damage,” the Doctor frowned then looked up over the patient; Chief Lok lay nude on his side, the massive cat-form of his body barely fit on the bed – dripping blood into a slow, steady pool upon the deck from a massive wound the size of Arven’s head just behind a broad shoulder. “Disruptor, point blank,” he guessed aloud.

“Or just a big disruptor,” a female voice answered as Kitty appeared, bouncing up into view from where she had been crouched near the massive cat’s head.

Arven moved to the console after locking the biobed’s control apparatus out in place over Lok’s prone body as far as they would go, then called up the Kzin’s bioscan data from his initial examination from the day prior. “Right,” Luex droned, “lets be smart about this off the top. Computer, terminate recording devices and auto-archival systems immediately, authorization Leux, Six-Nine-Victor-Charlie.”

“What are you doing?”

“Playing by idiotic, dim-witted diplomacy rules,” Arven grumbled as the computer chirped an acknowledgement, then gestured a super-imposed three dimensional haptic scan of the Kzinti’s anatomy into the air above his prone body. Tired, blood-shot eyes narrowed as he spun the image, swiping away nerve, musculature, lymphatic and respiratory systems away until he isolated what was needed. “Most species have singular or bilateral circulatory systems; or friend here as three – well, two, with the added benefit of an emergency back-up pumper," Arven pointed to three main arterial veins in the damaged area, above and below the patients scapula majoris – the massive, angular sheet of bone veined with ligaments perhaps dozens of charred capillaries. "Of course, all this is technically classified due to an asinine treaty - but I don't give a shit and I don't have time to bother with the proper channels. Fortunately, I'm not a complete incompetent.”

Alarms shrilled. “Vitals are spiking. BP is falling. We have to stop the bleeding now or we risk cadiac –“

“Calm down,” Arven moved to the patient’s side, still looking at the three dimensional projection even as one hand went to the wound, while the other traced up the inside of one massive, furred thigh, feeling with his hands for what the instrumentation couldn’t tell. Lok’s respiration remained steady, even as his pulse elevated; Leux deduced the Kzin’s naturally evolved compensational mechanisms had fully activated, redirecting blood flow away from the wound through his second and tertiary circulatory systems. “There,” the Doctor nodded, as his palm settled over the steady but minute pulse of Lok’s secondary heart, his eyes flicking to the bio readout at the same time. “You administered Sangualoft and Cuastaline, 50 cc’s,” he guessed, to which Kitty nodded. “He’s a big boy. Takes awhile,” the doctor nodded back. “Blood loss already dropping. Let’s get to work sealing this up and –“

Arven froze mid-sentence, blinking with surprise, while an audible thump resonated in the closed off room as something heavy hit the side of the biobed.

“What…what was that,” Kitty whispered, hands already moving to address the horrific disruptor wound.

Arven took a deep breath, then met her eyes with his own. “Hm? Oh, thats nothing.”

Kitty let her eyes wander down, across the massive furred body, as Arven withdrew his hand from between the patient’s legs.

“Oh my god,” her eyes widened.

“Focus, please,” Arven sighed as he picked up a needle-sized tissue regenerator after a quick spray of decontaminant. “Act like you’ve seen a penis before,” he added snidely before diving into the bloody mess of Lok’s shoulder without preamble.

Kitty scoffed. "Rude. Uh…why is it…?”

Arven shrugged. “Most likely a side-effect of the blood thickeners you just pumped into him – added with a hind-brain arousal-response from touching an erogenous zone during my digital questing about around his private bits. It happens,” he answered quite matter-of-factly. “I hardly see the reason to make a fuss over it.”

“I’m not making a fuss,” Kitty snapped.

“Suction here, digital pressure here,” Arven directed as if she hadn’t spoken, then shifted his position as the Kzin’s massive, barbed member pushed itself up against his waist with a slight frown before resuming his work. “As penile examples go, I have to admit it is the largest I’ve seen,” he mused aloud. “One has to wonder how their partners manage it.”

Kitty’s mouth opened in visible shock. “Okay, we’re not having this conversation.”

Arven smirked, eyes narrowed at the blonde. “Bit prudish of you, innit,” he commented, sealing off the Kzin’s sub-dermal musculature and connective tissue around the upper area of his exposed shoulder blade as they bantered. “Its only, what,” the doctor shrugged, “33 or so centimeters long,” he guessed, then leaned back to visually check. “Yeah, 35 tops.”

“I’m really uncomfortable talking about this right now.”

“It’s the barbed bits that worries me,” Arven sneered.

“One more word, Arven. I swear to god. One more.”

“Haven’t even mentioned the knot.”
 
“It has a knot,” Kitty whispered with a sarcastic gasp. “You think I could take it?”
 
Arven shrugged and switched hands to pull back the patient’s fur while he worked the right side of his charred epidermal layers. “Based off the scans of your last cervical exam? Probably, but with minor tearing, even with copious amounts of lubrication. Nothing that couldn't be repaired easily enough, however. I’ll put in a word for you when he wakes up, don’t worry.”

Kitty shook her head with a low chuckle. “I'm requesting a transfer to another department or going AWOL.”

Arven smirked then, even as the ship shook around them; the lights still strobed, power still fluctuated – but for the few short moments of their shared experience, working over a bleeding unconscious mountain of a man-cat – everything had faded away. He didn’t feel exhausted onto death. His mind wasn’t racing. He wasn’t worried for his colleagues and fellow crew – the threat of imminent death itself seemed to drift away into the recesses of awareness. All thanks to the massive, semi-erect penis of a poor Kzinti, who would probably never know how much he’d helped two souls keep their sanity that day.

“Good thing we’re not recording this, I guess,” Kitty ventured, apropos of nothing, but she met Arven's eyes with a knowing smile, as they both closed off and repaired the final strands of bloody tissue deep within the Kzin's wounded shoulder.

Arven nodded with a tired curl of his lips but offered no response; his capacity for bonding with others could only go so far - and the day was far from over.

Re: EP2 BTS | D03 | 0003 hrs] Flammis Acribus Addictis

Reply #15 –
[Lieutenant j.g Foval| Corridor| Deck 25 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy]
@joshs1000 0@Dumedion ion @rae  @chXinya  @tongieboi  @Ellen Fitz  @Brutus

Foval knew a lot about Romulans.   He had studied them extensively booth in textbooks and in person when stranded in the delta quadrant with them.   One thing they were is careful.   They would only commit to an attack like this if they were utterly sure of  victory.    Anything else was about careful manipulation from the shadows.  

Logically, they would have to go to engineering.    He had resolved to help them there.   
Foval check himself over.   He had his phaser drawn in his one hand.    His Borg arm wasn’t  the most effective weapon as much of the technology that made it so had been removed.     It could generate a ball of plasma but it would take 60 seconds and that’s if he was able to correctly aim.    He was carrying a second phaser – an old type 1 carefully hidden on his person, only having one arm did increase the chance of dropping a phaser so he had always chosen to prepare for the more unfortunate aspects of battle.   

Foval took the Jefferies tubes to engineering.   From a vent going into the corridor he could see an assembly of six Romulans.    He kicked the vent out, it hit a single Romulan, a female, square on the head, sending her disruptor rifle clattering to the ground.    Before he could register her down fall, he fired his phaser on a wide beam.      The six Romulans went down like sacks of spuds, to use a unique human dialect, although he still wasn’t sure what a spud was.    Carefully he rolled through the vent, as he reconfigured his phaser for standard beam dispersal, the female he was attacking had a fresh laceration on her forehead and a very angry expression.    At these close quarters, it was highly probable that his phaser would kill her.   He had no desire to see this course of action through, instead he swung his borg arm as hard as he could at her head.   Unfortunately he had never truly practised using his Borg arm as a physical weapon.   As such he incorrectly calculated the force needed to attack and lost his balance momentarily    That was all his attacker needed giving him a short sharp kick to the gut.   He winced in pain, but was able to grab her foot with his claw attachment.   As she struggled to escape from him he detached his borg arm, pulling the rest of him back causing her to loose her footing.    With his good hand, he tried to find the sweet spot for the Vulcan nerve hold.    He squeezed and she went down.  

He took a moment – he would need to reconnect with the arm, but was faced down with another two Romulans.  

Maybe it was the possibility that they had mis identified him as a Romulan.   More likely it was the Borg Technology at his feet and laced throughout the visible parts of his body, he mused as the butt of a rifle struck him in the face.  
Inhabiting my head are:

[Lt. Vanya |Assistant Science Officer| USS Theurgy]

[Lt. J.G Foval |Assistant Diplomatic Officer |USS Theurgy]

Re: EP2 BTS | D03 | 0003 hrs] Flammis Acribus Addictis

Reply #16 –
[PO2 Kythalie Benmual | Somewhere on V2 | Deck unspecified | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy]
@joshs1000  @Dumedion @rae @chXinya  @tongieboi  @Ellen Fitz  @Brutus  @Number6 @RyeTanker

After having left Sarresh's room, Kythalie made her way to deck 7 to get armed up to fend off any invaders. She figured the first place to go to would be the security center to get a fresh batch of orders and some weaponry to fulfil those orders. This however seemed far more easier in her head than it was in reality. As she approached the security center, the sound of phaser fires and minor explosions could be heard through the corridors. Kythalie hugged the side of the walls to approach carefully. This wasn't as easy as it sounded as the ship rocked from time to time due to the impact of incoming fire.

Here and there she saw the bodies of fellow crew members, but also from Romulans. She managed to snatch a type 3 disruptor pistol from one of the fallen Romulans before proceeding further with care. She came in from behind the party that was engaged with Theurgy's forces at the security center. She couldn't quite make out how many of them there were since they kept switching positions and jumped in and out of the adjacent rooms. She observed the situation for a little while before tapping her badge.

"PO Kythalie Benmual reporting to security center, I'm behind the Romulan line. Do I wait to engage for back up o-"

Her sentence cut off short as a new party snuck up on her in turn. They opened fire and Kythalie cursed as she ducked away, returning a few shots before becoming pinned down in a small alcove between the security center and the two Romulan parties that were engaging her. She'd manage to dig in here for a while, up unto the point that the initial attacking party would send a group to deal with her.

Oh what a wonderful day this had started to be...
 

Re: EP2 BTS | D03 | 0003 hrs] Flammis Acribus Addictis

Reply #17 –
[Master Zakar al-Ahlaad | Corridor | Deck 15 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy]  Attn: @RyeTanker  @chXinya  @tongieboi  @Ellen Fitz  @Dumedion  @Nolan  @Number6

Zakar took the hypospray and looked at it with some idle curiosity for a moment, but aware that there wasn’t exactly time to oggle alien technology he did as he was told and pressed the hyporspray tip onto the andorian’s neck as indicated. The device hissed briefly and the patient seemed to find instant relief. Once the procedure was done the andorian took the device back while commenting about his superior officer and the owing of drinks.

“I’ll have to remember that later if we survive this”, Zakar responded to the offer of a drink with a smirk, and a bit of a wince when his injured shoulder was smacked, he did his best to shrug off the pain then gestured down in the direction the andorian had indicated was the fighter bay, “...let’s get moving.”

As the two made their way down the corridor, which seemed to be strangely quiet apart from the groans and occasional shudders of the ship in the midst of its battle. Zakar guessed it was just not as vital an area of the ship or the rumors were true that the Starfleet crew was woefully undermanned, either way it made their trip all the more easy as it seemed that the Romulans, apart from the ones that the vaharran had killed, were also avoiding the area.

“How do you know Commander al-Zaheer”, Zakar inquired in a quiet voice, curious as to what his friend had been up to already in their short time aboard the vessel. He knew the vaharran had a keen interest in aliens, of course how keen he was was another matter entirely.

[CPO Avandar Lok | Surgery 2 | Sickbay| Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] [Show/Hide]

The world seemed strange, muted of color, fleeting, like it existed just beyond Lok’s grasp. A meaningless space of shifting sand and swirling oily canvass that one moment seemed almost tactile and with form but to ever so quickly collapse into a morass of meaninglessness. And yet despite being so far away it felt suffocating, and tasted of burnt plastic, acrid and choking.

Breathe.

“I’m going to die…”

Lok showed his flashlight into the confined space, a tangled mass of deck plates and bulkheads, among this mass of twisted metal was the form of the bloodied and battered Commander Blake. His bloodied balding head and a single arm the only thing not caught in the compacted pancake of debris. At a glance it seemed the poor man was a goner, crushed in the wreckage yet somehow still alive, but there was hope, he could be cut free, he just had to hold on.

“You’re not going to die, I need to get a plasma torch and get some of this away, just don’t move, I’m going to get you out.”

Lok turned to leave, a difficult task in the confined space but the man’s shouts brought him back.

“Don’t leave me in the dark!” the man protested with a sob.

“Here I’ll leave this.”

He wriggled the flashlight free from his wrist and propped it up to illuminate the space, barely a half a meter tall, then turned to leave again and the man protested, pleading that he not be left alone, but Lok could not heed him, the man would die if he stayed. Lok continued to crawl away from the light into the growing darkness. He had to find his way along by feel, retrace his steps to safety. The jagged torn metal scraped his fur, dug into his skin, ripped his coveralls as he ventured deeper into the darkness of the hostile space that had once been his ship, his home. The inky blackness became oppressive as if it was constricting itself around the kzin, he started to feel panic build as movement became more and more difficult until he found that he seemed to be pinned by a malevolent force that would not free him. Feeling as if he was about to suffocate, Lok cried out in fear.

A voice responded, “Are you alright Kyamo?”

Lok felt his breathing come under control as the familiar deep voice, like a wonderful song, filled his ears and a gentle but lustful caress of his thigh made the suffocating blackness fade away. He rolled onto his back and looked up into the dark eyes set on a dark klingon complexion, bathed in light, the handsome face smiled down at him.

“Koroq”, Lok murmured, his lips curled into a smile.

His eyes blinked and the visage that had once been so clear was replaced by another face, a familiar one. Doctor…Leux? The kzinti started to regain his senses as his golden eyes opened further and darted about the room. I’m in sickbay…I was shot…we are under attack!

“I need to get back!”

He shot up like lightning on the biobed to a sitting position, even in his weakened state he could still overpower the good Doctor and Nurse Kitty. His rush to get up was paid in kind by an immediate rush of dizziness and tunnelled vision. Not wishing to faint, the Lok fell back down onto the bed hard enough to cause it to groan in protest and crack one of the decorative moulded panels on the bottom.

“Shit…or I’ll just stay here…”, he murmured in discomfort.

After fighting the urge to vomit, Lok adjusted himself, with the help of the two attending medical officers, so they could finish up on him. As he did so he felt something brush against…a rather intimate area. He looked down and felt an immediate wave of embarrassment wash over him, his ears folded back and felt like they were on fire, though that could also have been from blood loss, as he was greeted by the sight of his own ample kzinti-hood on full display. How it happened, he wasn’t exactly sure, why it wasn’t going away when, for obvious reasons, he felt no urge for that kind of fun, he also wasn’t sure? Either way it was there and the two attending him seemed to be doing their level best to just ignore it, or at least he hoped they were.

It wasn’t as if he had shame about being naked, he grew up on Betazed, he had also on a dare strode through Starfleet Academy’s grounds completely naked and even encountered an Admiral who seemed more amused than upset. But when it came to his…anatomy…he always felt embarrassed when non-felinoids got to see it; it was large, some species like humans sometimes found it comically so, and his kzinti features were seen as bizarre or imposing to others.

Finally he addressed Kitty and Leux more directly, “I’m uh…sorry…about, well…that.”

He did his best to say it without drawing too much attention to it.


OOC Notes -

-Kyamo is Klingonese for "beautiful".

-Zakar is making his way to the FAB.

-Lok will most likely finish the battle in Sickbay.
 
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