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Topic: USS Endeavour: We Are the Borg (Read 11534 times) previous topic - next topic
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Re: USS Endeavour: We Are the Borg

Reply #25 –
[LCdr Blue Tiran |  Borg Should Die | Assimilate My Fist Mother Fuckers | Get the Fuck Out of My Way]
@Numen @Fife

Come on.

Come on.

Come on.

Come on.

Come ON!

Blue's mind was just repeating the same words over and over again as she stared worriedly down the hall.  She stood there, full uniform, pips on her collar.  Curls tumbling down all around her as she never bothered to put them up today and probably never would.  She knew that he was coming.  He said he would come.  He promised he would come and Ducote had never broken a promise.  She understood that he had things to do.  He had to, as First Officer, get everyone that he could off the ship but that had better fucking included him.  She swallowed heavily.  Every person that ran by safe and sound was one person closer to Ducote, right?

Foot steps, she could see someone coming.  Several sometimes.  Hope blossomed in her chest, they were headed her way. It was probably him and some others that couldn't be left behind.  No one should be left behind on purpose and Ducote would make sure that he could get everyone possible off the ship.  But, the time to get off the ship safely was coming to an end and she knew they only had minutes to get into the pod and get off the ship, if that.

Only as the people down the corridor grew closer, she could tell it was her arch nemesis and some others that she knew but didn't know.  It was Shar, they never got along and they likely never would.  There was something about the two of them they were oil and water when they were in the same room as each other.  She saw Cross, someone that she remembered seeing around the ship but didn't actually know him and then..

“R'Rori!  Did you see Ducote?” she asked quickly and desperately. 

Though the face, said it all, none of them had seen her fiance.  She bit her lower lip.  Her eyes shifted back past him, he was going to come.  He would come.  He always came.  When she was in the Brig, when she was feeling down, when it was a day that she was sad and he didn't understand why.  There were some days, her brother's birthday and death day that made her sad.  She had never told him why on those certain days but he was always full of extra hugs and understanding on those days.  He was always there with warm brazilian food, stupid comedic movies, and laying on the couch together until they fell asleep.  He was always there.  He was there when she woke, when she slept, and kept her from starving to death while trying to work on a project because she got all consumed within it.  He was there.  Standing beside her, holding her, supporting her.

He would be here.

He had to be.

As the three reached her she looked at them all, she ranked them all.  “Get into the pod.  I'm waiting for Ranaan, then we can go.” she stated, there was absolutely no discussion involved.  She didn't want to pull rank but she would fucking do it if she had to. 

Re: USS Endeavour: We Are the Borg

Reply #26 –
[ Lt. Cross | Corridors | Deck 6 | USS Endeavour ] @Numen @BZ

Cross had kept up an almost continuous rate of fire in an attempt to cover Shar and Julbi as they helped, or rather dragged, the mostly incapacitated Laurel Okhala along the corridors. His weapon was more or less useless, the drones that pursued them having long since adapted to the weapon’s frequency. No matter how much he cycled settings and modulations, they only remained effective for a shot or two before the Borg adapted. As the three crewmembers advancing ahead of him rounded a corner, Cross decided to try a different tactic. The drones were marching after him, unrelenting, and were about to come abreast of a damaged LCARS display that was spouting sparks. The bulkhead next to it was scorched. Closer to him the ceiling had a breach in it that allowed tubes and loose electrical and EPS relays to hang down into the corridor like snakes hanging from the limbs of tree in the jungle. Cross quickly ducked past the hanging debris and around the corner and saw that there were more people joining the group, though he didn’t take the time to see who they were. Instead, Cross turned his attention back to his phaser and began working at it, setting it to overload.

He quickly ducked back around the corner and taking several steps forward, throwing the phaser in an underhanded manner to get it up into the gap in the ceiling. He stumbled as turned to retreat back around the corner, dropping to one knee and catching himself with his hands. It turned out the stumble saved his life, as several shots from the arm-mounted plasma beams of the Borg drones sailed overhead. Cross cursed through gritted teeth as he pushed himself up, stumbling back around the corner even as the ceiling exploded downwards, the exploding phaser having detonated to cause some of the ceiling plating to cave downward and obstruct the hallway. Cross didn’t wait to see the full extent of the damage as he sprinted down the corridor after the rest of the retreating party.

He saw them round another corner ahead and quickly made to follow. The ship rocked with more impacts, and the groan of the vessel’s structure told him that the Endeavour would not hold together much longer. He passed a section of missing hull, the cold void of space visible through the struggling containment field. Cross barely spared a glance for the view, knowing the Borg could be just behind him. As he rounded another corner to his right, he saw the group ahead of him had stopped, and that there were now 5 of them.

He skidded to a halt as he approached, Breathing heavily from the mixture of adrenaline and exertion. Cross’ face was flushed, giving him a greenish tingle as his heart pounded to push his green blood through his system. The hybrid’s shoulders rose and fell with each breath. He leaned forward and rested his hands on his knee for a moment as he fought to slow his breath, hearing a familiar voice speak.

”Get into the pod. I’m waiting for Ranaan, then we can go.”

”<Fucking… hell…>.” Cross cursed between breaths. ”With all due respect, ma’am,” Cross panted, straightening up to look at Lieutenant Commander Tiran with his unblinking pale blue eyes, ”We need to go now. The Endeavour isn’t going to survive much more, and there are drones following right behind us.” Cross took a step closer to Tiran and opened his mouth to continue, but never got the opportunity as the ship rocked violently around them. Cross stumbled sideways, running into Shar. The Vulcan-Bajoran hybrid cursed and scrambled to catch Okhala and Shar lost her grip following his running into her. Laurel sank to her knees, her head lolling drunkenly to the side. Cross had ended up on one knee as well and found himself staring into the face of a dazed looking Laurel Okhala, who grinned at him almost drunkenly. Cross stood and, with Ensign Julbi’s help, dragged Okhala to her feet. He turned his attention to R’Rori, who was standing a few feet away and looking as though she was uncertain what to do.

”Counsellor, help Julbi get Okhala into the pod.” Cross said, addressing the Catian hybrid in a less harsh tone than he had been using, knowing the counsellor abhorred violence and as such was well outside of her comfort zone. Cross gently pushed the unsteady Okhala, who was supported mostly by Julbi at this point, towards R’Rori, and watched at the two attempted to maneuver the half-Romulan into the pod for a moment before swiping at his blood-smeared face with the singed sleeve on his uniform and turning his attention back to the two blue women in the corridor, one blue in name, one blue in colour.

Re: USS Endeavour: We Are the Borg

Reply #27 –
A join post with @BZ


[ LtJr. Khelleshar sh'Zenne | Deck 6 | corridors | USS Endeavour]][/color]

Att.: @Fife  @patches  @BZ


The ship suddenly shaked, throwing against Shar a surprisingly heavy Vulcan hybrid. Unable to remain firm in her feet, the Andorian staggered, releasing her grip on the young redshirt and tumbled several steps forward. When she was able to recover verticality she found herself face to face with the insufferable Chief Engineer.The Beast. Instantly, her antennae crushed against her scalp, the fists balled in her sides. That crazy human wanted to wait for the XO when they had the Borg on their heels? Had she totally lost her mind at last? "With all due respect commander, you can use that order to clean your asshole. Or you will enter in that pod or i'll kick you in, " She hissed through clenched teeth, as she narrowed slightly her eyelids.

"You shut your blue hole you bitch.  Ranaan said he was coming." The engineer ordered with authoritarian tone. The operations officer couldn't believe her ears. Not only that mad pink-skin intended to be let herself be kill or assimilated, but that the rest of them suffer her same destiny.  The Andorian frowned deeply, darkening her pale blue eyes. She should never have been allowed to assume a command position. All this only confirmed the shen's suspicion that she was unpredictable and anarchic. Potentially dangerous for the rest of the crew. "The First officer could be in sector 001 at this moment, but.. You know who is just around the corner? The fucking Borg. Put your useless pink-skin in that pod NOW!"

"I don't care where you think he is!  I'm not leaving without him!"Not-So-Blue slightly raised the tone of voice, her self control cracking quickly. Shar rolled her eyes, utterly annoyed. "Water Guardian, really you decide this is the best moment to be more pigheaded than ever? Enough!" She shouted, taking a step closer to the woman thar dared to call herself Blue. "Fuck you, and your Guardian, get in the fucking pod.  Soon as Ran is here, we will get in with you I don't want to give to turn your blue ass in!"

The Andorian had had more than enough. She simulated to turn on herself to direct her steps into the scape pod. As soon as she positioned herself behind the engineer's back and felt her eyes move away from her, she whipped around and grabbed the human by the waist, lifting her until her feet stopped touching the ground. Blue felt the arms grab her own from behind and start to haul her backwards  "No!  NO!" Blue fought, and tried to pull out of the arms which only tightened around her as she was drug bodily towards the pod.  The cries that escaped Blue's lungs were that of a wounded animal fighting for it's last breath, it's last life.  Wails of agony and the horrendous fear that colored her screams while the andorian hauled her backwards would echo around the room

The Andorian tightened her arms around the human body more forcefully, unable to avoid thinking about why she was trying to save thar annoying Not-So-Blue. She could simply push her and leave her there. Let her stay there along with the memory of her fiancé. A man who probably was dead at that moment. It would be the simplest thing. Just thinking about it made her smile like a shark, all teeth and bad intentions. The human's desesperate cries only increased the sinister mood that overwhelmed her. But she had a duty, she had to be better than that. So her only joy would be to hear the desperation on her enemy's voice, whatched how she died a little every inche she grabed her closer to the pod. And save her sorry life...

"RANAAAAAAAAN!" Blue screamed out grabbing feebily at the door opening to the pod.  Trying to slow the progression to the interior of it any way that she could.  She clawed and screamed as her voice grew more and more desperate.  "Rana-" her voice broke as she realized she was going to end up without him "-an!" she cried again as she clawed and fought and screamed.  Her nail snapped backwards snagging on the escape pods gaping opening of a door to allow her and Shar to move in  "I will hate you for the rest of your fucking life!  Put me down!  Ranaaaaaaan!  Put me down!  No!  No we can't leave him!  No!"

Shar tried to keep her grip firm around the crazed human's body. Blue struggled against her attempts with all her strength, her hands clinging to any available chink, her elbows digging into the slender andorian's body, legs flailing as if she was possessed. The shen squeezed her fibrous muscles, she didn't care if she left The Beast with no air in her lungs. She did not give a shit if she hurt her. She was almost enjoying the chance to made her pay for all the shame and frustration she'd gave her. To fight against her as she'd wanted if the ranks and Starfleet regulations hadn't prevent it. Even if she need to knock out her, she'll put that wiseass in the pod. "Hate what you want, bouf, but this time you're going to do things MY way." She hissed in Blue's ear. An idea suddenly crossed her mind. It was unnecessarily cruel, but it was an opportunity that Shar couldn't let go. "You know?" she whispered with her lips almost touching the engineer's skin. "I almost hope that one of the borg who is about to assimilate us is your fiancé ... maybe that way you finally realize the stupidity you're committing." Without giving her a chance to answer, she raised her voice and shouted "Liutenant! she's lost her mind, help me put her in the pod"

Re: USS Endeavour: We Are the Borg

Reply #28 –
[ Lt. Cross | Corridors | Deck 6 | USS Endeavour ] @Numen @BZ @patches

Cross had watched the exchange between the two women with a mixture of bewilderment and incredulity as they argued, Shar to leave, Blue to stay. She wanted to wait for Commander Ducote. Cross had seen the state of the ship as they’d fled the advancing drones, had seen numerous crew assimilated as they, too, had been trying to flee. In all likelihood, Ducote was either off the ship by now, or he was already dead, just as they would be if they didn’t get into the pod now.

Cross was about to voice as much when he was shocked into keeping his silence. The source of his surprise was the sight of the tall, lanky Andorian seizing Tiran around the waist and heaving her off her feet. Blue screamed protests at the blue-skinned Lieutenant, struggling to free herself from the blue hands that gripped her as she let loose with her almost feral cries. A part of Cross’ heart went out to her as Blue’s voice and expression put her pain on full display. Leaving Ducote was going to damage the engineer, Cross knew, but it was better than leaving her to be assimilated by the Borg. Cross was snapped out of his reflections as Shar twisted to try to maneuver the struggling Commander Tiran into the pod. For her part, Tiran was putting up one hell of a fight, struggling with all her might and kicking her legs wildly to try and free herself from the Andorian’s vice-like grasp. Shar was struggling to restrain the wild-eyed senior officer, and called for him to help her get the Commander into the pod. Cross stepped forward to help, reaching forward to help take hold of Tiran’s flailing form.

In her wild thrashing, one of Commander Tiran’s bootheels caught Cross square in his already broken nose, jarring his head back and to the side and sending a flash of pain lancing through his skull even as a small spattering of fresh green blood appeared on the bulkhead beside him. Cross staggered backwards several steps, hands instinctively clutching the freshly damaged portion of his face. The back of Cross’ mind registered the fact that Shar and Tiran were still trading scathing remarks, though the tactical officer was only vaguely aware of what was actually being said. Cross let his hands fall away from his face, gritting his teeth against the pain that still pulsed through his head. Uttering a curse, Cross stepped forward again, careful to avoid Tiran’s kicks this time. Waiting for his chance, he darted an arm out and snaked it behind Tiran’s legs, pulling them upwards and wrapping his free arm around them to stop them from lashing out at him.

”Get her in the pod!” He growled, choking and sputtering momentarily on the blood running down from his nasal cavity into his throat. The hybrid coughed once to try and clear his airway, then spat a large gob of green onto the deck plating. ”Those <fucking> drones won’t be far now!”

The Vulcan/Bajoran hybrid let out a series of curses as he and Shar heaved Lieutenant Commander Blue Tiran into the escape pod, the woman in question protesting and cursing them all the while. Cross released Tiran’s legs once they were inside the pod, wincing as his ears continued to be assaulted by Commander Tiran’s protests within the confined space. As he looked around the pod he found the scene before him to be a grim one. Ensign Julbi was bleeding from a wound to his head, as was the very concussed Ensign Okhala. Lieutenant R’Rori was curled up in one of the pod’s seats, trying to remain as small and out of the way as possible amid the chaos. Lieutenant Shar still struggled with Commander Tiran, trying to keep her pinned in the pod as Tiran fought like a woman possessed in an attempt to free herself, wanting nothing more than to wait for Commander Ducote.

Cross mentally uttered a silent apology to the Human as he reached out a hand and punched the release mechanism for the pod, causing the hatch to hiss shut. Tiran’s cries increased in volume as the hatch closed, assaulting his ears. Cross found himself thrown back against the pod’s bulkhead as the pod lurched into motion, having not had a chance to brace himself. Cross’ vision blurred for a moment as his head struck the bulkhead behind him, so that he had to blink several times and shake his head before it began to clear. As his vision returned to normal, Cross turned and glanced out the viewport, seeing the horrendous damage that had been done to the now-crippled Endeavour as more and more of the ship came into view.

As he watched, the Endeavour’s starboard nacelle was cleaved through by a Borg cutting beam, it’s support pylon buckling under the weapon’s onslaught to send the body of the nacelle drifting away like a severed limb. An explosion erupted from the vicinity of the Endeavour’s bridge, the brief blossom of flaming atmosphere reflected in Cross’ eyes before it was snuffed out by the cold vacuum of space. Cross wondered if perhaps he should say a small prayer for Captain Amasov who, if he hadn’t been killed or assimilated already, had no doubt remained on the Endeavour’s bridge. Cross had never been a religious man, and knew nothing of either Bajoran or Vulcan prayers. And so he remained silent for the moment and watched as sections of the Endeavour crumbled, the Cube’s vicious cutting beam doing it’s dark work with horrifying efficiency, until escape pod H93 jumped to warp, carrying it’s six passengers away from the scene of death and destruction in the hopes of getting them to safety.

- FIN
 
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