Meeting With Destiny
Episode Name: Meeting With Destiny Written By: Shaft Cast: Alarcon, Darax, Dovoro, Ghorev, Havaris, Medes, Montjoy, Poole,
Romulan Agent and Shaft. Produced By: Starfleet Directed By: Shaft Aired On: Tue Apr 29 18:23:26 2003 Stardate: 53178.1
Time: Sun Apr 27 19:42:34 2003
Stardate: 53173.5
The turbolift doors slide open with a hiss.
Darax steps out of the turbolift.
Darax has arrived.
The turbolift doors slide closed.
Dovoro sits down at Mission Ops.
Darax sits down at Mission Ops.
In the midst of the Summit of Nations, the Romulan Star Empire is attempting to cement its good will with other star powers and achieve a favorable standing in the Alpha Quadrant as a whole. To that end, they are preparing to return the Orb of Destiny to the Bajoran Vedek Assembly. Recovered from Cardassian space during the Dominion War, the Orb has been intended for return for some time, though the recent political climate has hampered that transfer more than a little. Acting as middlemen in the transfer will be the crew of the North Carolina and Station 419. For it is aboard that station that the Orb will be returned into the hands of Vedek Toralin for return to his Monestary.
All of this will coincide neatly with the advent of the Bajoran Gratitude Festival. Significant to the people of Bajor and as a point of rebirth for the faithful of the Prophets. A more auspicious moment for the Orb's return could not have been planned.
As such, the USS North Carolina is currently speeding towards the space near Irdosia where they are due to rendezvous with the Romulan Warbird carrying the Orb of Destiny, the Kalar'nostrum under the command of Captain Tisit. They will be meeting with the Romulans once they pass by the Irdosian system in roughly half an hour. The Station's chiefest officers are present for this crucial cake-walk, as much for name and face recognition as for their competency in command. All is as it should be. Clear space and ease sailing.
Ghorev, in the center seat, reviews some data on the armrest console. "Long range sensors ... is the Kalar'nostrum still on course for an on-time rendezvous? Our track record with Romulans and cultural artifacts is not the best."
Poole is quiet as she works at the helm, maintaining course and speed for the rendevous. Yay! Flying. It's something Poole can do.
Havaris taps at his console at the Operations seat, prepping some power to the Long Range Sensors before sending a nod to Alarcon.
Medes is, though not overly relaxed, in visibly good spirits, comfortable with the crew, for the most part. She, like Poole and Havaris, is quiet at her station.
Montjoy taps his terminal, his eyes reading the data off of screens as long range sensors are allocated more power, nodding vehemently to the Commander, "Aye sir. Long Range Sensors detect a Romulan ship baring the appropriate assigned course as specified."
Dovoro's blue hands move over the Mission Ops console smoothly and quickly. She may not have a whole lot of experience at the station, but she's learning quickly.
<CONTEST> Alarcon contests her Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!
"Long Range Sensors are still tracking the Warbird, Sir," Alarcon confirms, seated at her science terminal, watching the LCARs carefully.
Darax sits at his station at Mission Ops. He is a little more comfortable this time than the last time he was aboard the North Carolina. That is to say his slouch is a little more rigid than it normally would be.
The starfield continues to streak past the viewscreens as the North Carolina speeds towards the Rendezvous point.
Ghorev nods. "Advise me when we're in hailing range, and do one pass of the sensors on Iridosia." He falls silent after that, reviewing the armrest console further.
"Course confirmed," Poole chimes in. "Ready to drop out of warp once we're within range." All systems nominal. Green means go.
"I'll have that channel ready, Sir," Havaris offers from Operations, "if the data I'm reading is correct, we won't have to wait long. Ten minutes, perhaps."
GAME: Alarcon spends a courage point.
<CONTEST> Alarcon (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!
Alarcon fusses with her displays and such for a moment, then notes, "Sir, I'm detecting nothing unusual on Irdosia." The science officer remains slightly bent over her beloved displays and watches the data scrolling past, reflected in her eyes.
Medes and the Engineering console are quietly happy all to themselves at the moment. It is, at the moment, a matter of monitoring things that are working and making sure they continue to work.
Montjoy peers at his display, tapping the console to reveal more information, shaking his head with a smile. All systems go, it would seem. He shifts his body across the the wishbone, going from display to display with efficiently brisk fervor.
Darax runs his hands over the LCARS here and there. Occasionally he looks over to Dovoro, but offers little more than a smile each time. Probably best if he keeps the chit-chat down to a minimum for now.
The other blue person at Mission Ops doesn't look up much at all. Her eyes keep running over the readouts, analyzing the data coming in as best as she can. Dovoro's doing her best to get a handle on the Mission Ops station now, just in case this 'cake-walk' ends up being a little more exciting than planned, as these kinds of missions have a way of turning out.
These things have a way of going downhill fast, don't they? That axiom holds true now. Without seeming warning, the Warbird begins to decellerate, then veers wildly off course, heading towards the Irdosia System directly. Not the habitable planet, no. It's heading straight for one of the more distant worlds from Irdosia's sun. A hostile planet, devoid of life, and without much use to anyone in particular. Still, this change of course was, without a doubt, unplanned.
Ghorev doesn't like the look of that, no sir, and as soon as he is notified he makes it clear by rising from his seat. "Flight control, adjust course to intercept, maximum warp. Operations, hail the Warbird as soon as we reach range. Tactical, Sciences, I want as much details as you can arrange."
<CONTEST> Havaris contests his Shipboard Systems (Communications) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Montjoy contests his Shipboard Systems (Tactical) skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Fails!
<CONTEST> Poole contests her Shipboard Systems (Flight Control) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!
"Aye, Commander," Poole replies as she works the helm. Beep bleep chirp beep. She keeps her eyes on the console in front of her as she reports, "Altering course, accelerating to maximum warp, aye."
<CONTEST> Alarcon (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!
"I'm stealing some power from our internal sensor systems to boost our communications array, Sir. I'll try to reach them from where we're sitting. Give me a moment." Havaris works his terminal before turning his head to announce, "We've got positive signal on that hail, Sir. But she's refusing it."
<CONTEST> Montjoy contests his Shipboard Systems (Tactical) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!
"Sir... the Warbird shows wild fluctuations in her power signatures. She's leaking tachyons from..." A few taps at Alarcon's readouts, and she continues, "...from her cloaking device, Sir. Big trail to follow, mind you, but I can't determine why this has happened." She frowns down at her monitors.
Medes's fingers tap at the edge of her console, but she stays quiet, watching her console. She waits, patiently, observing readouts.
Montjoy taps on his console, an inquisitive eyebrow raised at all this. "Sir, I cannot make out head nor tail of the sensor readings from Sciences. Nothing detectable tactically," he states reluctantly, trying to find more.
Darax stiffens up a little bit, straightening in his seat before he leans in a little to get a better view of things as his head turns from one side to the other. As he does this his hands move over the controls in front of him, calling up new information for him to take in. Now, when he looks up, it is towards the main viewscreen.
Dovoro continues to look over the console, eyeing the readouts quickly but carefully. At Alarcon's question, she glances up and raises a platinum eyebrow. "Don't the Orbs react... strangely, sometimes? Perhaps it's related somehow?"
Ghorev frowns. "Keep working on it, you two," he says to Alarcon and Montjoy. Then, to Medes: "Start prepping everything we know on tachyon leaks from previous Romulan encounters. Misters Darax and Dovoro may need to start preparing the assets for a boarding party, or rescue team, depending on exactly what's going on."
<CONTEST> Medes contests her Computer (Research) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Alarcon (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Montjoy contests his Shipboard Systems (Tactical) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!
"Sir." Alarcon's voice is rather grave, her expression matching. "Scans indicate energy discharges near the bridge and in the area of one of the warbird's many engineering holds. Seems to be dying down at this point." A pause, then, "What I see indicates internal weapons fire."
"Aye, Boss," Medes replies. Stubby little fingers tap a couple of times over her console before the diminutive Engineer answers, "Tachyons are a standard byproduct of Romulan Cloaking Devices, but they're usually highly filtered to prevent visible trails, for obvious reasons. A trail like the one Sciences picked up would tend to suggest a malfunction of some sort, most likely in field containment or due to a power overload; it's more likely than not that whatever's happened has critically damaged the cloak's ability to function."
"Shields are also raised, Sir," adds Alarcon, after Medes' report.
Montjoy 's console burps out a negative chirp, to offer nothing but a frustrated sigh from the operator. "Tactical is still not penetrating or offering any information currently, Sir," He says.
Darax looks back over his shoulder towards Ghorev at the mention of his name and nods. With a crisp turn of his head, his attention goes back to his station, pausing only for a moment to look at Dovoro again. He has a task now. Or rather, he may have one soon, so best to start preparing for that. Just in case....
Dovoro doesn't even look up. As soon as the order is made, she acknowledges it with a nod of her head, keeping her eyes on the console. "Aye, sir," she responds simply as she gets to work.
The North Carolina' course of intercept will have it there in just under two minutes. Unfortunately, the massive Warbird is on a collision course with the planet in a little over two and a half minutes. When the North Carolina drops out of warp in orbit of the cratered Irdosian outer-rim rock, there is a conspicuous lack of escape pods or shuttles departing the inexplicably and apparently doomed D'deridex. It's as though she's simply heading willingly and knowingly towards the surface of the planet with no regard to her crew or equipment /or/ the orb itself. The comparatively tiny North Carolina has no hope of tractoring the D'deridex back and away from the planet, and little hope of otherwise arresting its progress.
Looks as though Darax an Dovoro may be busy after all.
Ghorev says, "Mister Montjoy, target that Warbird's engines. I want it disabled. If so, there's a hope we can tractor it slightly out of trajectory. And *NOW*. Mister Alarcon, I want as tight a scan as you can manage -- if we fail in this, I want to be able to find that Orb the moment that ship breaks up. Mister Darax, Mister Dovoro, start prepping an Away Team for the planet's surface, and *pray*."
"Standing by on any tricky manuevers... I'm ready, Commander," Poole states from the helm, focussing on the difficult task ahead. "Course to intercept... one minute and fifty five seconds, ready to drop out of warp on your mark, sir."
Havaris continues poking his communications controls in an attempt to reach someone, anyone, anything aboard the D'deridex. Negative growl after negative growl is his only reward as he continues to seek out some method of contact to the craft. His expressionis growing more grim and determined as the seconds tick by and the planet looms larger and larger, moving to eclipse the forward viewports as the Warbird's orbit continues to degrade. "Unable to reach /anyone/, Sir. I've tried everything short of EVAing and knocking on the hull. Sir, we can't let the Orb be lost. Consider me volunteering for that Away Mission if it comes to it."
<CONTEST> Montjoy contests his Shipboard Systems (Tactical) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!
<CONTEST> Darax contests his Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Alarcon (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Impossible and Fails!
Alarcon makes a small, frustrated noise in the back of her throat as she mucks about with sensors and readings and warbirds and orbs and glavin. "The orb is on... erm, the lower decks. Somewhere. Sir, I'm trying to get a better handle on that, sorry I can't be specific as yet."
Medes apparently takes the admonition to pray very seriously, even if it wasn't directed /at/ her. She murmurs to herself (and/or any celestial beings/wormhole aliens who might chance to presently be listening) "Make me useful," repeating the phrase three or four times before quieting herself. And to that end, she adds her voice to Havaris's, "And me, Boss." Her face -- and, indeed, her whole head -- has gone a bit pale. Her hands quietly tap at her console. "Please."
GAME: Dovoro spends a courage point.
<CONTEST> Dovoro (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Impossible and Fails!
"Aye, sir," Darax calls without turning to look around this time. He may not be the quickest rabbit in this petting zoo, but he knows how to get those legs pumping and ears listening. His hands move over the LCARS while his eyes remain on the various displays around him. "Scanning the planet's surface." There is a slight pause as he finishes this. "It is a hostile enrionment, sir. I'm reading temperature ranges between -270 and 120 degrees fahrenheit. It registers .42 standard gravity. It has an atmosphere made up mostly of methan, nitrogen and sulphate. I am also picking up alot of volcanic activity."
Dovoro continues to run her hands over the console, letting Darax give the report as she continues to run sensor sweeps.
Darax adds quickly. "Lots of geothermal shifting, as well, sir." And as if this needed to be added. "It's ugly down there, sir."
Predictably, the weapons of the North Carolina cannot begin to penetrate the massive shielding of the D'deridex. The shields glow a bright green as a volley of Photon Torpedoes slam into them and brighter still as phaser energy hisses into useless sparks upon it. Its last and best hope spent, the craft continues its plunge into the atmosphere, its foreward shielding beginning to glow with the friction of the thin planetoid's atmosphere. It is at this point that a few shuttles attempt an escape, followed by the odd escape pod. These, like the torpedoes, flare away into puffs of light as they impact upon the shielding. The North Carolina follows her down, he own shields beginning to glow with the heat of re-entry. Warning lights begin to flash on the Conn. The Dogbrain of the North Carolina does not like these sorts of maneuvers.
Ghorev growls as he clenches the command well railing. "Pull back to orbital range, Mister Poole. We can't help her at this point. We can only survive her, and give good answer for her. Full Shields. All hands, brace for shockwave, and keep scanning for that Orb!"
GAME: Poole spends a courage point.
<CONTEST> Alarcon (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Impossible and Fails!
<CONTEST> Poole (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Flight Control) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Dovoro (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Impossible and Fails!
"Aye, Commander, pulling her up now..." Yanking back on the stick so to speak, Poole angles the North Carolina upwards, using impulse engines and thrusters. "We'll be back into orbit in a few moments." She eyes her helm controls, which give her a view, though limited of the area... it's the doomed D'deridex that draws her attention but a moment... she spares one more moment, crossing herself. Then it's back, verifying the North Carolina is on a safe course, trying to keep her so that sensors can view the Warbird's last moments and it's final location.
Havaris watches the viewscreen until the Warbird is out of view, then turns his attention to his console with a hard expression. Havaris' opinion of the Romulans isn't much of a secret to those who know how to read him well enough. But there's a difference between one Romulan here and there, and the certain demise of over fifteen hundred of them in a moment. He shakes his head, keeping his silence up as he closes down the comm channels and pushes energy into the forward shields.
Alarcon looks as if she's on the verge of pounding on her LCARS. Scowling at her readings, voice fraught with frustration, she sighs. "Sir, I still can't get a good lock on exactly where that orb -is-. Working on it."
Darax mutters a quiet little prayer to himself when he sees the shuttlecraft and escape pods destroyed by the ships on shielding. He spares just a moment to give his own condolences to beings that won't here it and who are part of a species that would probably care less that a Bolian Ensign feels bad about their deaths. The moment past, he is right back to work. "Sir," he asks, "I'll begin having the equipemtn brought to the transporter room for the away team?" Because that planet looks like alot of fun to go tromping around on.
Dovoro continues her own sensor sweeps, frowning rather similarly to Alarcon.
Too late for those attempting a last moment escape, the shields of the Warbird give way in a ripple and glow of green. The beak of the massive craft begins to take on the brunt of the heat, a glowing and screaming green Falcon bent for the surface of some planet known only by a numerical designation. Her integrity never gives way until she impacts with the surface. Her crafting so expert, her materials so strong that not even the sort of abuses atmospheric entry can heap upon her are able to degrade her nobility. She slams into the surface of the planet and scrapes along the surface, breaking apart into violent explosions and carving a trench into the rocky ground some four miles long before slamming into the face of a mountainside and bursting upwards into a bright cloud of light and gasses fit to rain debris for miles around.
The shockwave reaches the North Carolina seconds later, washing over the hull with a singing scream of metal and subsequent silence.
Ghorev says, "Any damage?" as the shockwave passes and he loosens his grip on the rail. "And did any shuttles or pods at *all* make it clear?"
<CONTEST> Medes contests her Shipboard Systems (Engineering) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Alarcon (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Impossible and Fails!
Medes steps In Character.
Medes has left.
Medes has arrived.
Havaris manages to stay in his seat for the shockwave, of course. He simply adjusts his position in his seat and shakes his head clear of whatever had been occupying it. Hands resume their stations and the beeping of his terminal continues. "Power levels nominal, Sir."
<CONTEST> Dovoro (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Impossible and Fails!
Alarcon sighs. Scowls. "Still can't locate the orb, Sir. Scanning the debris field." Alarcon remains hunched crankily over her LCARS, tapping here and there as necessary and shooting her displays Looks of Death.
"Everything's online, Boss, and working as it should be," Medes offers somewhat thinly from her place at the Engineering console. By some miracle, she has not fallen out of her chair, been blown up /or/ electrocuted. (Yet.) All that happened was that she kept her eyes on her console, braced for the shockwave's passing, and then went immediately -- and mechanically -- to checking the North Carolina's systems.
Darax is jostled, but manages to stay in his seat as well. Once the shockwave has passed, he goes immediately back to his diplays and input.
<CONTEST> Dovoro (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Darax contests his Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!
Dovoro rapidly taps on her console. "Looks like seven... no, eight survivors made it after the landing. They're clear of the wreckage, and I think they've got some survival gear with them."
Ghorev says, "Hail the survivors, Mister Dovoro. Mister Poole, I want us in geostationary orbit above the wreckage. Mister Alarcon, keep one sensor array peeled for the orb. Mister Medes, give me structural and energy level scans of the wreckage. I need to know if we can send a team down there, or if the Romulan warp core is still going to be a potential danger to us. Ops, I want a tight beam transmission to the station, reporting on these events, and that we may be heading on down to the surface."
<CONTEST> Alarcon (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Impossible and Succeeds!
GAME: Medes spends a courage point.
<CONTEST> Havaris contests his Shipboard Systems (Communications) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Medes (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!
"Geostationary orbit... in five... four.... three... two... and, we are in orbit above the wreckage, sir," Poole reports after working at her console. She has a suitably sad face on, given the amount of people who's lives just got snuffed out below. The look is also one of determination though and she reports, "Standing by for further orders."
"Narrow beam transmission forwarded to the nearest relay post, Sir. We can expect a reply within the hour, if you wish to wait for orders." Havaris concludes his terminal tapping and settles back into his seat with a puffed sigh, checking his hip reflexively. Phaser there? Good.
<CONTEST> Dovoro contests her Shipboard Systems (Communications) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!
Dovoro taps out a musical rhythm on her console as she works the comm system, and then glances up with a confident smile. "We
Dovoro taps out a musical rhythm on her console as she works the comm system, and then frowns. "Damn. They're not responding. I know the signal's getting through, but they're not responding."
"The orb is with the survivors, Sir," Alarcon says, with a sigh of relief. "It appears to have survived the crash intact, from what I can tell at this distance, and it is with them. Given the readings indicating internal phaser fire, I'm not sure if this is a wholly encouraging development or not. It could be that some internal faction is protecting it, or it could be that some internal faction is attempting to make off with it." She peers down at her displays, unsure what to make of this, exactly.
"It's safe, at least as is relative to the warp core, Boss," Medes responds after a few more taps at her LCARS. "The core is stable." Her responses are calm, near-mechanical, and her eyes stay focused on her terminal.
The flames from the debris have already died out. When Darax called the atmosphere hostile to life, he wasn't being facetious. Nothing breathes down there. Least of all fire.
Ghorev says, "I'm sure it's too much to ask, given our luck thus far ... can we get a lock on the survivors, and the orb?"
<CONTEST> Medes (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Transporter) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!
Medes gives it a go, but shakes her head slightly a moment later, noting, "/I/ can't get one, Boss. I'll keep trying."
<CONTEST> Darax (claiming advantage) contests his Shipboard Systems (Transporter) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!
<CONTEST> Dovoro (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Transporter) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!
"Let's see if we can't get a lock on them," Darax says out of the side of his mouth as his hands move over the LCARS as rapidly as his Bolian fingers will allow him. "I'm having a hard time..." he cuts himself off. "No. No, I can't get one either." His attention flickers over to Dovoro again. "Maybe if we..."
Dovoro leans over her console. "Hold on, I think I've... keep what you've got there--" A few more button taps, and then, "I've got it! Positive signal lock!"
Ghorev, as soon as he asks the question, realizes he's the best one to answer that -- but hey, isn't it a *good* sign when your Commander is deep enough into his 'new life' to pretend for just a moment that he *isn't* an Engineer? It's clear *now* that, for a moment, he has to resist the urge to shove *someone* aside and grab a console, but that's not his job now. He looks at Dovoro. "Beam up any of them that are not in contact with the Orb, with the usual security protocols. I want their weapons deactivated. Their lack of response makes me suspicious, and I won't give them the benefit of the doubt until after I hear their story." He looks at Havaris. "Mister Havaris, given that the exchange of the Orb was to be done by hand, I'm assuming there's a problem with beaming the Orb straight up, and that it has to be shuttled up, yes?"
Poole doesn't tap her console. That would indicate that she were changing the current flight path. Which she isn't.
Havaris is a bit surprised to find himself the mouthpiece of his entire planet's religion. Of all the places he thought he'd find himself, this wasn't it. His gaze shifts briefly to Engineering, mouth working open and closed before he looks to Ghorev with his reply. "Yes, Sir. There is. The Orbs are extradimensional objects. According to the understanding of your sciences. There's no telling if you /can/ transport them. And if you could, if you would be transporting An Orb of the Prophets, or just some ball, in the end, Sir. I would strongly suggest Away Team retrieval. And that you do not approach the orb too closely. Or touch it. Or really, even, think about it too much."
Medes, presently small, eminently shovable, and at an Engineering console, is glad that this urge was resisted, an emotion that plays out very briefly on her face when she glances up from her console and at the boss. She quietly monitors her console's activity thereafter, exchanging a glance with her husband briefly when he looks over at her, and rolls her shoulders. She's a novice at this whole 'Prophets' business. That information is /all him.
. o O Medes thinks "No, look, there's an empty Engineering console right next to me if you really need one, Boss!"
Darax is definately trying not to think about the orb. He certainly has no plans on touching it. He sits at his station, continuing to work with Dovoro in getting the Romulans transported aboard. He goes about this silently, though.
Dovoro frowns. Deeply. "Sir, the... the signal has just..." Her antennae twitch. "It just scattered. I don't know how else to describe it." She glances back up. "I'm guessing the Orb's somehow related." And then tilts her head slightly, glancing over at Havaris. "Is it possible that... that the Romulans carrying the Orb right now have been affected by it?"
Ghorev says, "Frost and shatter it! Alright. Mister Havaris, given these events, and your statements on the matter, we've little choice. And I've little time to review the files to see who we can claim below decks." He turns to Poole. "Commander Poole, you have the bridge. Mister Darax will remain here to coordinate our retreival. The rest of you come with me, and if your EVA ratings aren't current, I pray you're fast learners."
"Aye, sir," answers Poole, though she remains at her post.
Havaris rests his hands on his terminal before pushing to his feet and turning about to nod to Ghorev. A replacement from Operations is already on his way to the post.
Alarcon nods. "Yes, Sir." She stands and leaves her Sciences terminal after signalling for her own backup at the bridge. She looks around at her crewmates, expression back to standard-issue impassive.
Ensign Expendable #13 comes to replace Medes at Engineering 1 as she gets up from her console, nods her head once, and starts to leave. A pause, then, and she waits for Havaris to catch up with her, brushing one hand against the back of one of his briefly before continuing on.
. o O Medes thinks "Jaws of death, Boss, jaws of death. I just hope my being a lightbringer doesn't involve martyrdom. At least. Not yet. The Celestial Temple's nice and all, but I really don't want to go back just yet. Are you listening, Prophets? Make me useful, but please don't kill me. Again. And leave me dead. Okay? Please? ... You probably aren't supposed to bargain with them, I guess. But I'm just asking! No death! Also please no dismemberment. I can handle another trip to biobed three, I mean, I'm scheduled for my next visit, ha ha, but... at least Kusto is here."
"Aye, sir." answers Darax, also remaining at his post. He's such a Poole wanna-be.
Dovoro quickly steps away from her own console and begins following the rest of the Away Teamers.
The Away Team moves to the Fighter Bay and the Type Xa USS Levy, the newest Combat Shuttle released from Utopia Planetia, designed expressly for this sort of mission. She packs a punch and can handle orbital insertions, is home to a small armory and enough EVA suits for a standard away team. Which this will wind up becoming. Medes is, of course, placed into the seat as Pilot. The rest of the crew fill various chairs of the four crew shuttle or await in the hold for touch down. It isn't long until the shuttle eases from the bay and noses down towards the surface.
Poole and Darax remain on the bridge, Poole keeping watch with her new crew, and Darax monitoring the away-team via their biomonitors and sensors.
Ghorev says, "Mister Medes, bring us to the last known position of the Romulans. Levy's shields are to be raised and stay raised until we touch down. The rest of you, start suiting up. IF you need help, don't be bashful."
GAME: Medes spends a courage point.
<CONTEST> Medes (claiming advantage) contests her Vehicle Operations (Shuttlecraft) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!
GAME: Havaris spends a courage point.
GAME: Medes spends a courage point.
<CONTEST> Havaris (claiming advantage) contests his Personal Equipment (Environmental Suit) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!
GAME: Ghorev spends a courage point.
<CONTEST> Medes (claiming advantage) contests her Personal Equipment (Environmental) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Ghorev (claiming advantage) contests his Personal Equipment (Environmental Suit) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!
GAME: Alarcon spends a courage point.
<CONTEST> Alarcon (claiming advantage) contests her Personal Equipment (Environmental Suit) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Dovoro contests her Personal Equipment (Environmental Suit) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!
Havaris suits himself slowly and precisely, recalling a mishap with the Environmental Suits that nearly cost him his life in the waters of Fimdari. He's methodical about it. Every seal is double checked, every piece carefully monitored, atmospheric containment and levels thoroughly verified. All of this before he settles the helmet atop his head and reaches into the locker to acquire himself a Type-III Rifle. Once suited, he fastens his combat knife to his hip and reclaims his seat, settling his rifle onto the floor between his boots. His voice crackles over the comms, "Lt. Havaris. Comm-check. How do you find me?"
Alarcon suits up with careful, cautious consideration, herself. She hasn't done this in a while, it's evident. But she doesn't need to ask for help, she finds. It's a slow process, but a necessary one. She has to take her time as much as Havaris did, and when suited, she seats herself, as well, having fetched her own rifle. "Loud and clear, Lieutenant. Am I coming through?"
Ah, the Levy, Medes's old frie... erm. Yeah. She's had such /good experiences/ in this ship. Thea shivers slightly as she settles herself into the Pilot seat, glancing aside at the co-pilot's chair for a moment and rubbing at the space where her wedding ring would be before visibly banishing /that/ particular spectre from her mind. Shoving that all behind a big, heavy door in her brain and locking it securely, she slides her hands over the console in front of herself, nudging the shuttle out of the North Carolina's bay and turning her down toward the surface. She nods to Ghorev's orders, focusing on her console. "Shields up, Boss. Proceeding to the Romulans' last known position."
Small-fingered hands move with expertise and grace over the shuttle's controls. This part of the run is, after all, almost routine for her. Make shuttle go zoom. Yep. She can do that. The other thing she can do is make the shuttle land, settling the Levy down gently on the surface of the planetoid. "You want me to try another scan from down here, Boss?" Havaris's comm-check earns him a return, "Five by five, Havaris, ditto Alarcon. Will be checking biomonitor reception once everyone's fully suited but me."
Dovoro suits up quickly, being not too far removed from the Academy EVA training classes. It's just a few moments before the Andorian's ready to go. "I hear you both," she says with a nod. "Can you hear me?"
Ghorev tests his own communicator, and declaring it good, and the seals on his suit likewise, prepares to land. "Keep an eye on the target, yes, Lieutenant," he answers Medes. "It's hard to sneak up on them in a shuttle, so the best we can hope for is that they don't sneak off."
Havaris answers the various calls simply. He activates his com and calls, "Clear and easy." His response is even-toned and cool, his expression through the faceplate of his suit neatly composed. He's got his game face on and is otherwise still.
<CONTEST> Medes (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Transporters) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Medes (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!
Her fingers tap repeatedly at various consoles as Medes reaches hither and yon, having to stand at one point to reach something allthewayoverthere. Hey. She's short, okay? "Signals are scattered about 100m forward of the shuttle, Boss. I'd imagine that's where we're going to find our Orb-bearing Romulans. Everyone's biomonitors are reading nice and clear, comm checks complete, everything looks beautiful." Switching on the comm link so it feeds into all the EVA suits, she notes, "Okay, everybody, one last thing, and I hope the Boss will forgive me if I've stepped on his toes in this one. I've set up the shuttle's transporter to link in with your biomonitor. If your biosignal goes into the red, you will be automatically transported back to the Levy. It's just way too dangerous out there to have to try to do that manually by remote. It'd take way too long and it's far harder to do it by remote than it is to set it up now." Putting the rest of the shuttle's systems into standby, she runs one last check of the console before going to suit herself up, attaching biomonitor, performing a comm check, and grabbing -- gulp -- a phaser.
Dovoro grabs herself a basic phaser, since she's a good deal better with that than the big rifles, and also glances through the locker at the rest of the equipment in there. "Anything else? Should we bring along a set of pattern enhancers, in case we need to beam someone up to the North Carolina?"
Ghorev says, "Yes, Mister Dovoro, we should. Take one. I've got the other two." He hoists up two, and a Type II phaser. "Mister Medes, lock in remaining cockpit controls to your PADD."
Havaris rises to his feet and checks his rifle briefly before asking, "Are we going to do this, Sir?"
She's putting on an EVA suit. She's checking it twice. She's locking remaining cockpit controls to her PADD. Medes nods, "Done."
Dovoro nods to Ghorev, and grabs a pattern enhancer, keeping that in her off left hand. Right holds the Type II phaser. "Pattern enhancer, check. Ready to go, sir."
Ghorev says, "Alright. We've as many as eight hostile Romulans a hundred meters off, people. Let's ... be careful."
"Stay frosty," Havaris concurs, "and keep your heads down. Shall I take point, Sir?" Havaris is already moving to the back of the craft.
Alarcon is ready and impassive, her own game face on. "Yes, Sir," crackles across the comm link to Ghorev, and she falls silent, waiting for orders.
Medes clips her PADD into place on the waist of her EVA suit. Lowered gravity, after all: last thing she needs is for the PADD with the shuttle's controls on it to go flying off. And she moves out.
Dovoro nods. She remains silent as she tucks the pattern enhancer under her arm, holds her phaser at the ready, and follows the rest of them out of the small craft.
Ghorev says, "Don't spread out too far," as he opens the hatch. "Mister Alarcon, start scanning."
GAME: Alarcon spends a courage point.
<CONTEST> Alarcon (claiming advantage) contests her Personal Equipment (Tricorder) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!
Havaris takes point out of the craft, keeping his rifle close to his body. He eases up to the edge of the craft's aft and waits for Alarcon to start her readings before hazarding a glance around the shuttle's edge. He spends a moment scanning the rocky landscape before inching back under his cover. "I can't see anything out there but rock, Sir."
Alarcon even -shakes- her tricorder lightly, glaring down at it. "Neither can I, Sir. Sorry. Working on it."
Dovoro glances mildly over at Alarcon, and frowns slightly, securing the enhancer under her arm more securely as she follows behind.
The landscape is entirely uninviting to anyone used to green plantlife and blue skies. The air is foggy with haze and the ground beneath the Away Team's boots jagged and prone to cracking underfoot. The heat is intense, the distant sun and nearby volcanic activity keeping the surface uncomfortable. One hundred meters distant of the shuttle's fore is a field of rocks and boulders, a morass of redoubts and ambuscades. If there are Romulans there, and if they are hostile, it's going to be one heck of a fight flushing them out.
Ghorev says, "Alright, people, we're going to make one pass on foot, to scout. Keep enough apart to cover each other. If nothing clearly inspirational comes our way, we're going to regroup at the shuttle and switch to Plan B."
Havaris lets out a slow and calming breath before nodding his head at Ghorev's plan. Such as it is. Not his idea of a great plan, this. But it has a certain panache. Walk out, and if the fire, fire back. If they don't, run. It suits his own twisted sense of battle-logic. Keeping true to his orders, Havaris is first to round the edge of the shuttle, keeping his weapon at the ready as he sweeps the terrain for possible hostiles. His feet have him moving along the side of the shuttle, heading for the aft section and the crags ahead.
<CONTEST> Alarcon (claiming advantage) contests her Personal Equipment (Tricorder) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!
"Sir," Alarcon says suddenly. "I'm reading scattered life signs ahead. Forward the nose of the shuttle... looks like a defensive line." She's still holding her tricorder in one hand, her rifle in the other, as ready as anyone else, footsteps crunching in the scree.
Medes tries not to think about the orb. Tries not to think about getting shot. Tries not to think about shooting one of her teammates accidentally. She goes for MedesZen, breathing out slowly and breathing in likewise. Be calm, be cool, don't hyperventilate. Also, walk. Follow orders. Fan out.
Dovoro follows behind quietly, although she raises her phaser in preparation at Alarcon's words.
GAME: Havaris spends a courage point.
GAME: Medes spends a courage point.
GAME: Ghorev spends a courage point.
GAME: Alarcon spends a courage point.
GAME: Dovoro spends a courage point.
No sooner does Alarcon succeed in pointing out the general position of the hostiles than they open fire. Streaks of disruptor fire blaze from among the rocks as Romulan after Romulan rises up to take aim on the advancing Away Team, and those at the head of it in particular. This finds a considerable amount of fire heading in the direction of Ghorev and Havaris, though nobody is in the clear.
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Havaris's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Fails!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Havaris's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Fails!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Havaris's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Ghorev's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Fails!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Ghorev's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Fails!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Medes's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Dovoro's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Alarcon's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Ghorev contests his Command (Combat Leadership) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Ghorev contests his Planetary Tactics (Small-unit) skill vs Romulan Agent's Planetary Tactics (Small-unit) skill and Succeeds!
Ghorev's reflexes, fortunately, are reasonably superior to your average Romulan's sniper capability at even half of a hundred meter distance. This, and enough EVA training to know how to *move* in the otherwise cumbersome suit, allow him to be a good half-meter to a meter ahead of each Disruptor blast as the Romulans try to track his staggered run for cover. "All hands but Mister Alarcon, paint the targets. Mister Alarcon, exact coordinates of our target fire to North Carolina. Commander Poole will know what to do with them!"
Havaris doesn't leap for cover at first, he actually moves to take aim on the first head that pops from cover. It isn't until the precision of the attack incoming hits home that he lowers his rifle and begins running full tilt for the nearest cover in the terrain. The first streak of light misses him by a clean yard, the second by only a foot, the third striking him in the side as he dives through the air to land behind the rocks. His cry of pain carries over the communicators as surely as Ghorev's orders do. "I'm hit," he informs the team without much concern, "moving to their left flank. I'll draw their fire." He pops up again and starts double-timing towards the next piece of cover, firing as he moves.
<CONTEST> Havaris (claiming advantage) contests his Energy Weapon (Phaser Rifle) skill vs Romulan Agent's Dodge skill and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Alarcon (claiming advantage) contests her Personal Equipment (Tricorder) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Ghorev contests his Energy Weapon (Phaser) skill vs Romulan Agent's Dodge skill and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Medes contests her Energy Weapon (Phaser) skill vs Romulan Agent's Dodge skill and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Dovoro contests her Energy Weapon (Phaser) skill vs Romulan Agent's Dodge skill and Succeeds!
Alarcon shoulders her rifle and dives for cover, tricorder in hand. There's a staticky crackle across the comm sys, and something of a muffled grunt from Isobel, but she's quiet for a moment or two. "Coordinates transmitted to Commander Poole, Sir. I would assume one of them has the orb, Sir." Another pause, and she exhales, voice steady. "I'm hit, too, Sir."
. o O Medes thinks "Ow. Sons of Nausicaan whores. Poole, don't beam up the Orb. Please, girl. Don't. Ow. And don't BLOW it up, eith... ow."
When the fire starts, Medes is moving for cover as fast as she can. The little Engineer howls briefly in agony as the disruptor bolt catches her in the hip, forcing her down onto her knees. The suit seals itself shut, and she's soon muttering through gritted teeth, "Oh, biobed three, my old friend. Looks like ... ow." Dry humor. It's a survival tactic. It'd be funnier if she could finish the joke she's thinking. When the order is given to fire, she does, before struggling to her feet and desperately seeking cover.
"Ow!" Dovoro cries out over the comm as one of the disruptor blasts lances across the landscape and strikes her in the leg. She almost drops both her phaser and the pattern enhancer, but grits her teeth and secures her hold on both. "Returning fire, sir..." The phaser is raised and fired, even as Dovoro begins making for cover.
The blistering return of fire hits with undergunned precision. Havaris' bolt strikes one of the Romulans in the shoulder, briefly knocking him out of the fight as he sprawls backwards and loses his rifle. Medes catches her target in the side of the faceplate, which has him gagging on the ground and clutching at his face. Dovoro's blast catches one of the Romulans that, spotting Havaris, was moving towards their left flank to reinforce. He she or it tumbles to the ground and is back up again, still moving to intercept. Ghorev's fire is true as well, catching yet another of the Romulans square in the chest. Like Havaris', it tumbles back and struggles to its cover in order to return fire. The fight is most definitely on.
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Havaris's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Havaris's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Fails!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Havaris's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Fails!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Ghorev's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Fails!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Medes's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Dovoro's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Fails!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Alarcon's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Fails!
Ghorev takes another few shots, continuing to move from cover to cover as he does. "Mister Dovoro, prepare to deploy your cargo in an appropriate location. If North Carolina doesn't come through in a hurry, we'll have to make our own luck."
Breaking through into the com systems in everyone's suit helmets, Poole's voice filters through, staticky. "Poole to Away Team... We've engaged a Romulan vessel and are unable to... *Crackle*crackle*snap*"
Havaris continues his shoot as he moves tactic, which does the job where drawing fire is concerned. He draws a hell of a lot of fire. The first bolt catches him in his left shoulder, spinning him about and dropping him to the ground with a thud. It wasn't so much a dodge as a drop, and the following volleys pass harmlessly overhead. Groaning in pain, he plays it much more sedately this time. He crawls forward to the nearest cover, takes aim, and fires. To call him in trouble is, perhaps, an understatement. But he's succeeded in flanking them and has a damn fine bit of crossfire to offer if he can hold his position. "I'm pinned down out here. I need some cover fire."
<CONTEST> Havaris (claiming advantage) contests his Energy Weapon (Phaser Rifle) skill vs Romulan Agent's Dodge skill and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Ghorev contests his Energy Weapon (Phaser) skill vs Romulan Agent's Dodge skill and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Alarcon contests her Energy Weapon (Phaser) skill vs Romulan Agent's Dodge skill and Fails!
<CONTEST> Medes contests her Energy Weapon (Phaser) skill vs Romulan Agent's Dodge skill and Fails!
<CONTEST> Dovoro contests her Energy Weapon (Phaser) skill vs Romulan Agent's Dodge skill and Succeeds!
Alarcon sends some shots in the general direction of the Romulans, and all go wild. Maybe it's because she's holstering her tricorder hurriedly at the same time, maybe she just sucks at this part. Who is to say?
Another hit to Medes -- this time in the gut -- and she finally drags herself into what she imagines is cover (but what does she know?) calling into her suit's com after a moment of cursing vehemently, "You know, I'm a hell of a lot better with a shuttle's guns than I am this phaser, Boss. Nngrhgh." Deep breath, /then/ try to talk again. "Permission to give all of us some very sincere cover fire? Or try to trap them in the transporters? Or. Something." Not that she isn't trying for another shot with said phaser just /now,/ mind you. She is. "Ow. Also. Hit. Again."
"Aye, sir." Dovoro's response is quick and clipped, and suddenly she bursts out from her cover at a run, moving to a better location to place the enhancer. She lays down fire as she runs, letting loose phaser blasts towards the Romulan enclave.
Havaris' second volley strikes his initial target who had been turning to pour fire in on the Bajoran's position. The second shot is true, hitting the seam beneath helmet and chest, knocking the Romulan backwards until his legs balance him out, causing the body to flop forward into unconsciousness. Ghorev's aim is as good as his cover, it seems. His second shot strikes his recovering target in the stomach, doubling it over and dropping it to the ground. Similarly, Dovoro's second shot strikes the Romulan that had been moving to engage Havaris square in the back, sending that body flopping over the rock that is the Bajoran's cover. The tables are slowly turning, it seems.
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Havaris's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Fails!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Dovoro's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Ghorev's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Fails!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Alarcon's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Succeeds!
Ghorev barks, "Belay, Mister Dovoro," as fire continues to be exchanged. "You're taking too much fire, and North Carolina is busy. Mister Medes, permission granted on the cover fire, if you can manage it without destroying the Orb." The tone of voice makes it very clear that has *always* been his consideration -- unfortunately, the need for precision in dealing violence sometimes requires a tad bit of vulnerability. He continues to move between the rocks in the lessened gravity, focussed purely on the give and take of raw energy bolts, making his own stray shots as necessary.
<CONTEST> Ghorev contests his Energy Weapon (Phaser) skill vs Romulan Agent's Dodge skill and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Ghorev contests his Search skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!
<CONTEST> Havaris contests his Search skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!
<CONTEST> Dovoro contests her Search skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!
<CONTEST> Medes (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Transporters) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!
GAME: Havaris spends a courage point.
<CONTEST> Havaris contests his Personal Equipment (Communicator) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!
"Blast it to the fire caves! If I had a grenade I could /clear/ their line from here! They're all ducked up in front of me. I'm only taking fire from one of them. Four down that I can see." Havaris reports this from his cover, reaching up to drag the Romulan that's on his rock over the lip of his cover, abandoning his rifle for the moment. He's bent on tapping on the chest plate of the Romulan's suit. What he's up to? He's too wounded to relate.
<CONTEST> Alarcon (claiming advantage) contests her Personal Equipment (Tricorder) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Dovoro contests her Energy Weapon (Phaser) skill vs Romulan Agent's Dodge skill and Fails!
This time, Alarcon can't stay a cry. The first shot hit her along her right side, but this last one's got her shoulder. Regaining control quickly, she gets her tricorder scanning again, moving to better cover. "Sir! I have it! The orb is approximately 15m from you, Havaris, between the two Romulans at the centre of the line. That makes it about 50m from the rest of us. And that noise was me being hit again. I'm getting to better cover."
"No, Boss, looking at it again, it's too risky. If I knew where it /was,/ it'd be different. I'm going to try something a little less hazardous. Bring 'em out." From the brief Bajoran burst which exits Medes's mouth next, it's a fair bet that she didn't get it this time around. "Stupid... " When Alarcon's words come through, she yelps, "Yes! /Thank you./ Prepare for fire from the Levy."
Medes adds, "I'll get the ones on the /outside./" Just in case there was any doubt.
"Aye, sir!" One more shot from her phaser, and Dovoro slips behind an outcropping of rocks that should be giving her better cover. She sets down the pattern enhancer to gain the use of both arms, and stays down behind the rocks.
The incoming fire is far less thick this time around as the Starfleet personnel attempt to close this out without landing in the infirmary for an extended stay. Ghorev claims the only phaser fire to have any effect. And as such, he bears the brunt of the outgoing fire from the Romulan line, only a single volley dedicated to the still pinned down Havaris.
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Havaris's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Fails!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Ghorev's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Ghorev's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Ghorev's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Fails!
Ghorev makes the mistake of trying to veer for the Orb, and pays for it severely. Twin disruptor blasts, a few seconds apart, stagger him backwards at least 10 meters or so in the light gravity. Luckily, they *were* a few seconds apart or his suit would be shredded, and so would he, but as it is, he's clearly just a few nerve firings short of even an Andorian's tolerance for pain. He staggers to one side, continuing to fire. "All weapons, converge. Cover Lieutenant Havaris so we can take the ball and go home!"
GAME: Havaris spends a courage point.
<CONTEST> Havaris (claiming advantage) contests his Athletics (Running) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Havaris (claiming advantage) contests his Coordination (Dexterity) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Ghorev contests his Energy Weapon (Phaser) skill vs Romulan Agent's Dodge skill and Fails!
GAME: Dovoro spends a courage point.
<CONTEST> Dovoro (claiming advantage) contests her Energy Weapon (Phaser) skill vs Romulan Agent's Dodge skill and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Alarcon contests her Energy Weapon (Phaser) skill vs Romulan Agent's Dodge skill and Fails!
Havaris wastes no further effort on the communicator of the Romulan in his lap. He throws the body off of him and peers around his cover when Alarcon identifies the prize. "I SEE IT!" When Medes gives her warning and Ghorev gives the order, Havaris pops up from his cover and starts running through his wounds. Each stride is at once terribly slow and quite speedy in the lowered gravity. The Romulan that had been taking aim turns to shout silently -- to the Federation perspective -- a warning to his comrades. They begin to turn to receive the charge, but Havaris is quick, indeed. He snatches up the case containing the orb and just keeps on running.
<CONTEST> Medes (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Weapons Systems) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!
Alarcon is firing again, having shoved her tricorder in its holster, now. Wincing at the pain in her shoulder, she might startle a Romulan or two by firing in their general direction, but hit them she does not. She's giving it her best try, though.
Hunched bravely down behind a rock, Medes locks on target via her PADD, and from the hundred or so meters away that the Levy rests, its weapons whine, and discharge, aimed at the two outside Romulans. A cackle of delight, followed by a small wounded 'laughing hurt' whimper, emerges over the comm from Thea. If anyone could work a shuttle into ground combat, it /would/ be her, wouldn't it?
At Ghorev's order, Dovoro glances over the rock as much as she can without putting herself in the open, and begins laying down cover fire. Streams of phaser blasts streak out across the battlefield to the Romulan foes.
The cover fire clips the two centermost Romulans in the back, but neither one is down for the count. It buys Havaris some time, however. And if that bought him /some/ time, then the Levy's barrage of phase fire buys him a day or two. The volley of Type IV Phaser Fire blasts the two flankward Romulans back a solid thirty meters, slamming them against the jagged rocks beyond. They're so out of the fight, they may have never actually been in it. The last gasp of the Romulans, however, is -- naturally -- to fire on Havaris' fleeing back.
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Havaris's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Fails!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Energy Weapon (Disruptor Rifle) skill vs Havaris's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Fails!
Ghorev flattens himself for cover now, and begins a long, steady stream of fire until he either hears "We surrender!" or two more Romulan yelps of unconsciousness.
<CONTEST> Ghorev contests his Energy Weapon (Phaser) skill vs Romulan Agent's Dodge skill and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Alarcon contests her Energy Weapon (Phaser) skill vs Romulan Agent's Dodge skill and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Medes (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Weapons Systems) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Dovoro (claiming advantage) contests her Energy Weapon (Phaser) skill vs Romulan Agent's Dodge skill and Succeeds!
Havaris just keeps on running, ignoring the fire that streaks past him. His destination is the center of the Starfleet line. He passes by Dovoro, by Ghorev, and dives to the ground between Medes and Alarcon's rear positions. Covering the orb with his person should the volley of the team not clear him of fire. Yes. He's quite willing to get shot covering the Orb. This should surprise nobody.
Alarcon fires. Making another pained noise into the comm sys, punctuating said firing. And she -hits- someone! A Romulan is winged by the Science Officer, her shot hitting -him- in the shoulder. The irony of the aim does not escape Alarcon, who chuckles grimly and winces more behind her faceplate.
Medes crouches behind the rock. Taps her PADD. Makes the Levy fire. When Havaris lands between her and Alarcon, the little Engineer grins over at him and notes, "Damn, Lieutenant. You're /good./" Pause. "Ow. Bringing the Levy out of standby, Boss."
Blast after blast issues forth from Dovoro's phaser, as the Andorian does her best to shut down the Romulans firing at her DH. Almost as a second thought, she grabs the pattern enhancer and tucks it back under her arm. Don't want to leave that.
When the smoke clears eight Romulans lay stunned or dead, either from their wounds or from exposure to the hostile environment resulting from the stun setting impacts of the Away Team. In the skies above, streaks of light part the sky as the North Carolina continues to engage her rival in the heavens. The battle is over, but the war is hardly won.
No sooner does the Mission Ops Terminal show the Levy having touched down on the surface, than the space 20,000km distal of the planet shimmers, revealing a decloaking D'deridex. Another. D'deridex. The pride of the Romulan Fleet. A moment later its shields are raising, and the North Carolina and her crew face down an enemy half again their size.
It's just not their day, is it?
Poole sputters from the flight controls, then grits her teeth, marshalling that inner Poole power. She hands out orders, "Hostile ship... let's take her down." That's right. We're not running. We're not going anywhere. Hiss, spit, growl. Aside to the bridge crew she says, "Ever heard of the Poole Manuever, any of you? I hear it's taught at the Academy these days... let's give it a spin, ya?"
<CONTEST> Poole (claiming advantage) contests her Command (Starship) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!
GAME: Poole spends a courage point.
<CONTEST> Poole (claiming advantage) contests her Starship Tactics (Naval) skill vs Romulan Agent's Starship Tactics (Naval) skill and Succeeds!
Poole maneuver? Darax would take time to try to remember whether or not he learned it, but that is something that can be worried about later. Right now there is a small problem that is way bigger than their own ship. Concentration is the key. Somehow he feels inclined, nay excited to give this a try...despite the odds. "Awaiting order, sir."
The Tactical Officer promptly raises shields and powers weapons while the Operations Officer jets power to vital combat systems. General Quarters is called as the ship enters red alert. And the game is, indeed afoot. The D'deridex, being as it is a small moon with weapons all over it, doesn't so much juke and weave as it glides and scours. Oh, the scouring. Disruptors scream and torpedoes unleash in a steady volley that may, if they are very lucky, have a brief interlude before it all starts up again.
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Shipboard Systems (Tactical) skill vs Poole's Shipboard Systems (Flight Control) skill and Fails!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Shipboard Systems (Tactical) skill vs Poole's Shipboard Systems (Flight Control) skill and Fails!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Shipboard Systems (Tactical) skill vs Poole's Shipboard Systems (Flight Control) skill and Fails!
<CONTEST> Romulan Agent contests its Shipboard Systems (Tactical) skill vs Poole's Shipboard Systems (Flight Control) skill and Fails!
"We're going to rush them head on... execute a wide 180 degree turn... And here's the key... a quantum torpedo between their port and dorsal shields. Fire phasers right at that spot. The idea is to hit their power plant," Poole informs the bridge crew, while dancing the North Carolina through the massive amount of firepower aimed at her. "We make a hit and she'll not be able to use three quarters of the weapons on her... and her shield power will be reduced as well... Hopefully. Tactical, be ready to fire... I'll handle the steering. Engineering, stand by for a whole heck of a lot of damage... And Mister Darax, give tactical a hand... I need those phasers timed /well/."
If he even gave it a moment's thought, this is where he would stand up, jump up and down and scream that this may not be the best of ideas. Simple whinings about things like having a desk job and knowing more about legal matters than anything that blasts any kind of energy in any direction. Darax doesn't have a moment, though. He just reacts, "Aye, sir." In as flash-like a manner as he can muster, he is up and over at tactical.
<CONTEST> Poole (claiming advantage) contests her Command (Starship) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Poole (claiming advantage) contests her Starship Tactics (Naval) skill vs Romulan Agent's Starship Tactics (Naval) skill and Succeeds!
GAME: Darax spends a courage point.
<CONTEST> Darax (claiming advantage) contests his Shipboard Systems (Tactical) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!
GAME: Poole spends a courage point.
<CONTEST> Poole (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Tactical) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Dramatically Succeeds!
The crew of the North Carolina waste no time in following their commander's orders. Without seeming effort, the Steamrunner glides through volley after volley of enemy fire. An untouchable bright profile against the bleak shadows of the planet below. It glides beneath the the massive Warbird, closing at full impulse, streaking through a hail of point defense fire and dorsal torpedo spreads. And none of it, not one bit of it, impacts with the shields of this fated Starship.
Once in perfect position, the torpedoes are released, streaking a brilliant line towards the shields of the enemy craft. They impact with a deadly force, one right after the other. Portside and dorsal shields weaken with each shimmering light that blasts against them. The concussive force rocks the Steamrunner, but true to its Class, it keeps right on coming. Never slowing down, never wavering. Every phaser bank within that firing arc -- an impressive number -- unleash crimson light against the green shimmer of the D'deridex's shields. Puckering them, driving them down, driving them through, paving the way for the final lashes of light targetted at the central spine between the dorsal and ventral wings of the D'deridex. Impact after impact sounds against the Romulan ship's hull, causing it to lurch and stagger, sending explosions through its midships, and flickering the running lights showing through its many, many decks.
The Steamrunner shoots out of the debris field aft of the Warbird, its shields glowing bright as the last of the dust shimmers away. And with so decisive a blow struck, not a single torpedo or disruptor fires at them from the Warbird's aft.
On the contrary. The massive bird simply lists to the side before accelerating for Warp.
Bugging out before the superior enemy.
Fleeing the battle.
Running like a kicked dog with its tail /burning/ between its legs.
Poole stares, utterly satisfied at the picture on the viewscreen. The smile on her face has only ever been this bright perhaps on her Wedding Day. Romulans. Running. Away. "Well. We certainly showed them, didn't we?" Understatement, and she stands, carefully tucking a blonde lock behind her ear before straightening her uniform jacket. "As you were then. Stand down to yellow alert... contact the crew on the ground. Bring us back into geosynchronous orbit over the crash site."
He did all that he could at Tactical, fearing that it just wouldn't be enough. And maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was all just Poole's brilliance that pulled that move, her trademark, off against such overwhelming odds. He jumps into the air, letting out a cheer and pumping his fists when the Romulan ship turns to fly off. Then it is back over to Mission Ops so that he can contact the ground crew. "This is the North Carolina to away team." Maybe he helped. Maybe he didn't. But he was there when.
Darax was, that is.
Ghorev, in the cramped hold of Levy, says "Away Team here. Report, North Carolina."
Poole moves over to the command seat now and SITS. Mmmm. Yeah. Little tush wiggle, then she looks around at her bridge crew. All smiles.
Poole speaks up over the com, "A Romulan Warbird... D'deridex engaged us, Commander. They're gone now though. Power system failures across multiple decks, I imagine. Are you on your way back?"
Darax takes a moment or two to look over his screen before dutifully reporting to Poole, "They have wounded, sir."
Ghorev says, "Congratulations. We report a similar success down here, yes. All of us are injured to some degree or another, but none are down, and all eight of our Romulan friends *are* down. Now that we have the Orb, I want you to scan them for survivors -- we may have hit a few with lethal force, but I'd like at least one alive for questioning. We're coming up for a rendezvous."
"Acknowledged, sir, we'll have medical teams to meet you in the shuttlebay," Poole says, looking to Darax and nodding. He's her go-to guy now. Then a look to the medical officer on duty on the bridge, "Scan for lifesigns. ... Beam them directly to sickbay. Security, have two squads ready to receive them there."
<CONTEST> Darax contests his Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!
"There are six lifesigns still on the face of the planet, sir." Darax dutifully reports. "I'm sending their location over so that they can be beamed into sickbay." Tap. Beep. Poke. Whir. His fingers slide over the LCARS. Maybe with with just a little more ease than he has to date.
With the coordinates of the survivors secured, the survivors of the battle below are quickly beamed aboard. The Levy's departure from the surface leaves only blistered rock and shattered stone behind. Everything is taken into the hold. Including the Orb of Destiny in its shielded travel case, carried protectively by Havaris. He does, of course, eventually put it down. Without much protest, too.
The trip back, with Medes at the helm, is much less stressful than the trip down to say the least. And when the Levy is finally safe in the hold of the North Carolina, the crew is free to breathe a profound sigh of relief. When the tail of the Levy drops open, a cheer is raised from the crew of the Shuttle Bay, moreso when the first of the Away Team come limping back onto the deck of the friendly ships. Naturally, Poole and Darax have come down to receive the Away Team. The whole of the Bay is alight with enthusiastic energy. Never has there been a more decisive starship battle in this Sector. And if there has been? It's been a long time since.
Poole steps into the bay, striding towards the shuttlecraft behind the medical teams who've been waiting. She joins in the cheering, smiling as she heads for Ghorev, "Commander. Good to see you in one piece, sir."
Ghorev, having slowly divested himself of his EVA suit, limps gingerly down into the Shuttle Bay. "Mister Poole, you'll continue to have the bridge for the return trip home. We could all use some medical attention, and I want to have the report on this filed by the time we make orbit around Four-One-Nine."
Havaris comes out of the hold of the Levy, his uniform burned and singed and otherwise marred by hardened sealant foam. He's more than a little worn down by his efforts below, this fact made apparent by his continued retention of his Type III rifle. It isn't until one of the Crew Chiefs come to claim the weapon that he realizes he'd been ready to carry it to the infirmary with him. Without much to say to anyone, he allows himself to be pulled aside by one of the awaiting Medical Officers and prepped for the trip to the Infirmary.
Alarcon half-staggers out into the hold and into the waiting ministrations of the medical officers without comment. She's burnt and singed and damaged, too, and seems not to wish to say much at all, giving a tired, wan smile as she, too, is prepped for immediate delivery to sickbay.
. o O Havaris thinks "We did it. We really... did it. We saved an Orb. I got the Orb. And we saved it. We. We really... did it. What will mother say?"
Medes quietly slips off of the shuttle, a weird mix of exultant and exhausted that leaves her strangely calm and zen-like. She momentarily waves off the Medical Officers, murmuring, "One moment, please, then, yes." Maneuvering her small personage past Alarcon and over to Havaris, she quietly interrupts, "Excuse me, just... one second. Please." And it's for just one long moment that she allows herself a breach in professionalism in order to wrap one arm around Kusto's waist and fold the other hand over his right ear, laying her thumb along the back curve of his outer ear and dropping her forehead onto his shoulder for a second. Just needs a brief Prophet Worshipper moment, here, and then she'll be all right to trundle off to the Infirmary.
Darax is only a few steps behind Poole when she walks into the shuttle bay and makes his way towards the returning crew of the Levi. His usual smile is a little bigger than usual. Until the walking ward are completely in view. His face shifts to concern, but no one seems on the border of death and no on is, in fact, dead. It was a good day. "Congratulations, sirs," is all he can manage at first.. Letting the smile crawl back onto his face, he stops a little behind Poole and falls into a sort of silent attention.
Poole nods her head once, sharply. "Aye, Commander. And if I might say so... Good show." Then she makes her way for the exit. She has a job to do, after all... even if she sees Medes hurt. That's a torn look on her face. But she exits.
. o O Medes thinks "And your people shall be my people, and your god shall be my god."
Dovoro wearily steps off the shuttle and into the bay. A small smile on her lips, the satisfaction of a job completed successfully. "Well, that was a damn sight more exciting that customs work," she chuckles, as she begins making her way to sickbay, a slight limp in her step.
Ghorev, like Dovoro, makes his own way out of the bay, Andorian pain tolerance allowing him to limp along without escort, even though he'll clearly pay for it later. "Kusto," he says as he ambles towards Sickbay with the rest, "tell me about this Orb we just rescued. Orb of *whose* Destiny, exactly?....."
Havaris wraps an arm about Medes when she nears him to do the same. And likewise, his hand finds her ear for a moment. Just a little moment. He offers her a quiet whisper in that moment, though it lacks the sounds of a sweet nothing. Havaris whispers to Medes, "Ask me not to leave you, or to return from following after you. Where you go; I will go." With that said, Kusto steps back, offers his wife a smooch to the forehead, and turns himself over fully to Starfleet Medical.
With little more ado, the USS North Carolina turns away from this nameless rock of Irdosia and makes good speed in the direction of 419, leaving a claim beacon behind to wink out their claim on the twisted grave of over fiteen-hundred.
