Skip to main content ↑ ↓
Topic: Chapter 1: Not So Safe At Home [D3 00:10] (Read 21037 times) previous topic - next topic
0 Members and 2 Guests are viewing this topic.

Chapter 1: Not So Safe At Home [D3 00:10]

[Kestra Pren  & Samala | Apache | Triangle Battle Zone] Attn: @Ellen Fitz‍  @Dree‍  @Stegro88‍  @Number6‍ @RyeTanker‍ @Hans Applegate‍ @Sqweloookle‍ 

Kestra did not need ship’s sensors, or a view out into space to know just how in the shit they were. She did not need to feel the inertial dampeners struggle to keep up as the Apache executed it’s evasive maneuvers. No the shuddering of the ship, the blown out conduits and the screaming of the wounded as the ship lurched in one direction and then the next did more than enough to tell her just how fucked they were. She’d had a bit of time to familiarize herself with the ship while it traveled from the Romulan station, and she knew it’s weapons and defensive systems were decent for a ship of it’s size. But even so as the battle raged on, there was only so much a small craft could take. At least the stolen Romulan runabout had a cloak so Cheung and the rest of the group from the Mary Baldwin could remain safe if they so desired.

The deck rocked again and she stumbled and would have stumbled but for the crowd of people packed in. More cries from the aft section rang out from the wounded and she felt the ship shudder in such a way that usually meant an engine was struggling. Deciding she had waited long enough, she took matters into her own hands and began pushing herself through the crowd making her way to the forward cockpit.

“Report,” she demanded as she entered. 

The pilot didn’t turn to look at her, his attention too focused on their controls.

“We’re full evasive, Lieutenant.  The Romulans keep sending stalkers after us but we’re out maneuvering them.  Even so…” The deck rocked again as they took another hit.  “It’ll only be a matter of time.  Already our shields are down to fifty percent.”

“Land us, then!”

“Can’t.  Theurgy’s cleared the approach vectors for Lone Wolf squadron and they won’t clear us to approach.”

Goddamnit.  This Reman crate was about to go up, and combat priority of Theurgy’s fighter squadron took priority.  Reggie Suder was out there, she knew and it tore at her to know there was a chance she’d never get the opportunity to meet her.  To hell with that, she decided.

“I’m taking command.  Hail…”

"The stars you are," Samala said aggressively as she charged back into the cockpit. "This is my ship."

Kestra turned on a heel as she heard the voice from behind and came face to face with an angry looking Romulan in a Starfleet uniform. The woman stood equal to her height and probably damn close in weight too. A quick second look and she realized the woman wasn't entirely Romulan, though she couldn't immediately identify why she believed that. Regardless, none of that mattered. If the non-comm in front of her thought she was going to pull rank on her, she had another thing coming.

"Excuse me, Crewman, did you mean to say something to me," she asked, allowing the disdain to drip into her voice.

Samala cocked her head to the side, trying to decide how best to deal with the fool in front of her.  Her hand twitched slightly, her first reaction to draw her blade and end the woman in front of her. But she held her stance, and tried words instead.

"If you are having trouble hearing ma'am," She said mildly, "Might I suggest seeing the medics in the hold. Hearing loss can be a symptom of many different mental issues."

She moved past the spotted woman and into the pilot's seat that the current occupant vacated for her.

Ohhh how the insubordination chafed at her. Instinct drove her to continue chewing out this arrogant Romulan but as the deck of the Apache rocked again under Romulan disruptor fire and she realized she had much more important issues at hand.

"Crewman, we will discuss your attitude in much greater depth when this crisis is over. In the mean time, get this ship on the deck, NOW."

"If you are anxious to die ma'am, I'll open the airlock for you myself," Samala shot back without looking, working on some screens, adjusting the Apache's systems.

"You heard what was said, they haven't cleared us to approach and I am not taking the reaming from Lillee about breaking protocols."

Kestra didn't know who this Lillee was but she understood that she might be ordering this crewman to break the orders of another superior officer.  Having been in that position before, she was sympathetic, though the attitude still needed to be checked.  The pilot also had a fair point that they weren't cleared.  Even so there were critically wounded back there.

"Fuck the clearance and fuck this Lillee of yours.  We have people dying back there and I'm not going to sit around and let it happen.  Are you?" She paused as the ideas came to her. "Now if you want to keep throwing that attitude of yours around, we can argue until your brethren blow us out of the sky.  But if you want to blow that attitude out the airlock you seem keen on using, and help me to help the injured back there, I'll be more than happy to take the heat from your superiors for the break in protocol..."

Another rocking from weapons fire cut her off, and the corridors echoed with more screaming.

"What will it be?  Fuck around and find out?  Or save lives?”

Samala's hand twitched again, the call of the blade growing louder in her mind. But she ignored it as she focused on the rest of what the officer had said.

"Don't ever call me Romulan," Samala seethed, baring her fangs. "How do you plan on getting aboard? In case you haven't noticed, we're damaged, and you want us to fly TOWARDS the largest target in the vicinity, in the one ship guaranteed to piss of the Romulans more than the Theurgy. I love my brother and want him to get help but he wouldn't want me to die trying to save him."

So. She had a brother. On this ship. Interesting. That gave her a reason to try. She just needed to believe it could work.

"I have no intention of dying, Crewman. I just happen to have a few tactical tricks up my sleeve."

She turned to the engineering station which was occupied by another crewman who had remained silent through most of it.

"Out."

He obliged her and she took the now vacant seat. Her hands went to start keying commands but stopped short when she realized the console was in Reman. Then it clicked.

"You're part Reman, aren't you? Whats your name, Crewman?"

Samala had to fight to hold back the laugh. She still hadn't got the ship's systems to stop defaulting back to Reman when someone left the console.

"Hit the glyph in the top right. That will change the display for you," Samala instructed, smiling. "My name is Samala, and I'm all Reman, Thank you."

Kestra found the icon Samala had described and keyed it.  Almost instantly the settings came up and she selected the setting closest to Federation standard.  It struck her as odd that she had described herself as 'all Reman'.  It didn't take a medical scan to tell someone that she was at least half Romulan genetically.  But she had learned a while ago not to judge what was in someone's heart.

"Kestra Pren," she said by way of introduction.  "All Trill."  She paused as she set up the configuration she needed.  "I've seen Remans in action.  During the War.  They were ruthless and efficient.  Stood toe to toe with the Jem'Hadar and came out on top every time.  It doesn't surprise me in the least that you have no love of the Romulans knowing what they did to your people."

She paused as she finished her configurations.

"So I think I'm safe in assuming that you don't want to die out here at their hands.  I have a plan that gives us a chance, but I can't do it alone.  I'll need your help and we'll have to work together as a team. So what do you say?  Can you help me by matching course and speed with Theurgy and keeping us within one kilometer directly aft?  Or do you want to kick me out and leave our fate in the hands of the Romulans?"

Another jolt shook the Apache, this one the most violent of all.  The sounds of a console overload on one of the rear compartments echoed as the smell of acrid smoke curled her nose.  On her screen an alert popped on her screen.

"Whatever decision you make, you don't have much time.  That last hit took our shields down to fifteen percent.  We won't survive another strike like that."

So this post was originally intended to put all of the chapter 1 characters, but @Stegro88‍  and I talked and we decided to do a quasi joint post to get the deed done.  Feel free to post what your character is up to while Kestra and Samala debate whose is bigger.
 
Simple Audio Video Embedder