Star Trek: Theurgy

[ LTJg. Sephiria "Scylla" Arn | Cockpit of the Mk.I Valravn Wolf 10 | Azur Nebula near Borg Aperture]

((A few minutes prior to the following segments))
As Scylla attacked with the others, Whiteout noticed something on their sensors. "Scylla, we got a Klingon ship taking a lot of fire and she looks about to blow, i'm reading a lot of Klingons aboard, no borg, we should maybe show good faith and help?" He stated matter of fact like. Sephiria looked at the sensors and nodded. "Scylla to Meerkat, that Koro'T'inga at zero seven seven mark 3 is hurt and there's a bunch of Klingons on it that need help, I suggest we break off and take the Cubes weapons node there out, give them a chance to save their people." She transmitted the data and it also showed another cruiser, a Vor'Cha closing on the stricken one. "Maybe we can give that other cruiser a chance to beam them out?" She asked Meerkat.

((NOW))
Scylla's hands flew over the controls, Whiteout hanging on for the ride with an evil grin as he monitored contacts and brought target points up for his pilot while firing on others on the queue, her eyes moving, the iris movement following targeting system of the built in HUD of her Combat Flight Armor , weapons triggering off once lock-ons are confirmed, the agile Valravn dodging and weaving through debris, allied fighters and Borg weapons fire, getting a bit cooked here and there but, miraculously only 1 solid hit and her shields held.

"Shields at 35%, recharge cycle online, were good!" Spoke Whiteout as he checked their systems, while Scylla rolled around some debris, firing micro torpedoes and canon shots with uncanny accuracy, many of them hitting their marks in rapid succession. She turned to whiteout over her shoulder for a second as "Chasing the Angels" from Brother Firetribe started playing. As the Music flowed, Scylla kept dodging Borg fire and returning accurate bursts of weapons fire in a series of arabesque like pivots, twists and turns. "Roger that Flight leader. " Came her reply to Meerkat's orders. The Fighters sleek form moved as if possessed by some angry deity of flight and fury, the veteran Pilots skills becoming fully apparent as she held nothing back, employing every ounce of her mind, body and soul in the fight.

She heard Meerkat's instructions as the Song came to it's conclusion, she rolled her bird out of its last attack run, arching around as multiple afterblasts occured after her last few hits, there was quite a bit more slag than Borg cube showing where many of their weapons nodes were. A cleared Koro'T'Inga cruiser hull was being destroyed by the Vor'Cha that saved its remaining crew, brave warriors who would live to fight another day for the empire and Chancellor Martok. The Valravn barrel rolled and dove, arching back around to form up to the right and back a bit of it's flightleader's own Valravn. "Wolf 10 has your wing team leader, shall we go find our wayward team mates and our charge?"

In the back seat sat a dazed and thoroughly terrified Andorian, he had only been assigned to Scylla during the final flight test phases and not ever experienced his pilot unleashing her whole arsenal of skills in a fight, he now knew, the stories of what she did during the Dominion war were not exaggerated, they just couldn't be. He sat there breathing slowly, trying to stop shaking as relaxing instrumental music plays while they flew towards the Allegiant.

[ Lt Cmdr Vael Kaeris | Bridge | Deck 01 | Vector 1 | USS Theurgy ]

There were distinct moments in his career, but none more so than this, when Vael regretted that his training ensured that curse words were not the go-to of his vocabulary.  Still, they had their appeal, whether it be in response to the seeming incompetence of some, the thunderous assault that hammered against the hull, or the outrage that some species would have the audacity to undeservedly presume his subjugation.

His efforts at remotely replicating the jamming relays was hampered as someone hamfistedly deployed some sort of cloaking device.  He could only presume that the device was unauthorized by Starfleet as there were precious few exceptions made to the Treaty of Algeron, but the subsequent power failure that cascaded through the ship's systems merely punctuated the incompatibility between the two systems -- one that any reasonable engineer should have safeguarded against.  It only took him two weeks aboard the Endeavour to convince the captain of the necessity of bulwarking portions of the power system to allow the crew to isolate damaged or corrupted systems.  But, he supposed, they had been tasked with a very particular mission that necessitated such precautions.

The power systems rebooted, the lighting on the bridge returning to some semblance of crimson-tinged normal even as others around him vented their particular flavor of slang and epithets.  Vael opted to allow the others to express his own frustration rather than open his mouth.  The second relay had failed as a result of the disruption, forcing him to begin anew.  The ship rocked as another assault from the cube tore through the ship.  If anything, the ship was in dire need of repairs even before he and his fellow refugees had been lured on board, but given their status, there wasn't a starbase or outpost within a hundred parsecs that would give them safe haven.

Chaos swallowed the bridge once more as another drone attempted to reassert itself.

Time was an asset they were rapidly running out of and everyone seemed too focused on the short term goal.  "Engineering, I am transmitting schematics and a deployment grid.  One relay is already in place," he stated, "these need to be replicated and released as quickly as possible.  No less than twenty but the more you can manage, the greater our advantage.  Advise the bridge once complete.  Kaeris out."

One task delegated, he moved towards the Theurgy's CSO, inclining his head slightly so as not to seem as rude as he might otherwise seem to be in such dire circumstance.  "Allow me," he said, calling up the parameters on the neighboring screen, his irritation at the mangled calculations hidden beneath the implacable expression on his face.  His brow furrowed slightly, the corners of his lips drawing tight as he began to review the scanning frequencies, rapidly filtering through the errors with an almost preternatural awareness.  The Romulan had managed to make a good many corrections to whatever tangled mess the Cayuga had been trying to implement and transmitted the corrections back, but there were still some elements that could stand further refinement.   "Good job, lieutenant.  Here are some additional variables to assist in narrowing our scan field," he said with a nod to Vanya.  "Thank you."

Someone announced the arrival of another ship -- but his awareness was subsumed in his work, interfacing the protocols to the Theurgy's sensor grid, the nascent apertures lighting up faintly across the navigational consoles.  "We've located the network.  Now we need to disable it before the situation becomes untenable."  His dark eyes moved from those nearby him, to Ducote, and finally to the dark skinned Bajoran who sat in command.

Ooooh, a combat medic. Nice! :D

[ Lieutenant Junior Grade Zark | Security Center | Deck 07 | Vector: Combined | USS Theurgy ]
[Show/Hide]

Zark had been present at the security briefing. Listening from some were off to the side. She had been helping out in sickbay until they were nearly on station then reported to the Security center. Upon filling in those present on whom she was, where she was from and what she could do, she'd been rolled into the active security group.

As the information and orders were passed out she'd adjusted the fittings on the shiny new EXO Suit. She had not taken it into battle and the fittings were still being adjusted as others spoke. The fancy rifles were handed out to some other security members, but she was not one of them. That didn't surprise her.

Her suit had the standard gear that the others had. The Type II Pulse pistol was holstered on her left thigh. She had double checked the pouches. Her suit had more than the standard. As she carried not only combat gear, and a full issue of it, but medical gear as well. A back pack rested between her shoulders with additional medical supplies. Yes, medic's had to carry more gear and it was a bitch, but that's why they got all the best mates.

As orders were given she picked up the unique helmet for her ExoSuit and slid it on. Her Antennae sliding into the advanced triple layered sleeves protruding from the top. Glancing up she gave an experimental wiggle of her antennae, to ensure a good fit. This wasn't the best option in all the worlds but it was better than not having a helmet or having one and having antennae sheered off. With the helm on the suit's internal workings adjusted the temp to much lower than ambient room temp for Federation starships. Zark was Andorian and she liked it cold.

Her helm and suit also projected an encrypted IFF (Identifying Friend or Foe) Designation as Medic. This couldn't be seen by foes and only by friendlies, but would tell other security officers and crew who to call out for, for medical assistance.

When the squads started heading out she'd lifted her Type III rifle, checked the magazine and nodded. Time to hit the ice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That had been some time ago. Things had not expressly gotten better aboard Theurgy. Hits had been taken and the shield grid had given up enough of a hole for beam through from the Cube.

The Borg, where among them.

Zark had been given three crewmen under her as a roving squad to assist as needed and provide medical aid when possible. They had been moving fast, clearing corridors and patrolling. Clearing a corner in a 'pie' maneuver she swept the corridor into view and crouched down to a knee. There were Borg there and they looked to be entering the security center. Her antennae flattened back against her helmet, and she spoke lowly to the crewmen with her.

"Borg are taking the security center. We're coming up behind. On my mark, let um have it. We need to overwhelm them before they adapt."

The security crewmen nodded to her, looking scared. In truth she was scared too. This was nothing like patrolling the Cardassian border. Sure she'd seen action there but this was all together different.

Pulling her Type III up she gave hand signals and two of the crewmen crossed the hall. Then she and the other moved forward. Leap frogging two by two till they were out side the security center. Then a count down.

Three.

Two.

One.

She gave the signal and was first through the door. Just as the lights went off in the security center and darkness descended. Behind the security force-field, there was a shimmer. THAT... was not supposed to happen. Borg inside, their red electronic optics sweeping. Zark's Antennae flicked and she brought up her rifle. The HUD of the suit lit up lowlight and thermo overlays as well as Life sign tracking. This would keep her from hitting friendlies... that's the hope anyway.

Phaser bolts flew forth from all 4 members of the squad. Lighting up the security center's darkness. Zark had indicated one drone and all four security members lit it up, blowing it away quite quickly. Then switching to a second. It too fell but then the third took a few hits staggering back before slowly falling. The fourth's shields pinged off the phaser bolts.

"Adaptation! Modulate! Spread out, make it choose a target!"   She dove and commando rolled behind a console. Letting the rifle swing down and back on it's strap she drew the Type II Pulse pistol from it's holster and popped up from behind the console a trilling laugh escaping her. Her own nervous tick displaying itself at all the wrong times as usual.  Zark tracked for a target and yelped as it flung something at her. She ducked back down behind the console as it rang with the impact. WHANG.

"SHELAT!"

Touching the side of her helmet. "Lieutenant Zark, to Security Forces. Security Center breached! Drones present. High Priority Prisoner just poofed. Repeat: High priority prisoner is in the wind! Requesting assistance!" 

Across the way one of the crewmen fired around the bottom of a console and cut the legs off a drone.

"LT! Their shields are down??"

Zark didn't have to be told twice. "MOW UM DOWN!!!"

She popped up from behind the console and gripped her Type II Pulse pistol on both hands. Antennae laid back against her helmet and she started peppering the drones hard and fast. Pew pew pew! Pew pew pew! Pew pew pew!!

The young Andorian didn't know how long the shields would be down but every second meant more fire could be poured into the Borg and that couldn't hurt. She hoped someone up the chain heard her. That prisoner had 4 guards on him when this all started and now he was gone.

Congrats on the new character!

I just wanted to give a shout out to apologise for getting a little behind on some threads. Work has unexpectedly gotten very busy and has been kicking my ass.

I aim to try to get caught up ASAP. Thanks for your patience and sorry for those who are waiting.