ASSIGNED TO TASK FORCE 56 OF PEGASUS FLEET
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The End is Coming Soon

Posted on Tue Feb 11th, 2020 @ 11:21am by Captain Abigail Laurens & Lieutenant William Gunnison & Lieutenant Nikki St. John & Lieutenant Alexis Aenera & Chief Petty Officer Benjamin Thor & Lieutenant Commander Ichiko Gail & Lieutenant Calvin Morgan & Lieutenant William Rogers

Mission: Dead Moon
Location: Main Bridge

 

"Banking port," Rogers voice rang out across the bridge, clearly heard over the sounds on the bridge.

Instinctively Abigail gripped the arm rests of her chair tighter as she ship lurched suddenly and rocked with the residual impact of yet another metreon gas explosion.

Through the view screen the slightest shimmer of the shields could be seen. "Shields holding at 80 percent," Lieutenant Gunnison replied back from Operations.

Abigail nodded. At this point she wasn't even really sure how long they had been in Hell. It may have been a few hours, it may have been days, it felt like it had been a few life times. The air on the bridge was one of efficiency. No one wasted words. Perhaps that was the truest sign of tension, the fact that here, now, in the what was possibly the most difficult moment they had yet to face as a team, there was no inclination toward small talk, just sheer concentration on keeping each other alive. The only change that had occurred had happened with professional silence and speed as Calvin returned to sickbay to be on hand for their crew that had rapidly taken ill from radiation and sent anotheer officer to stand in his place on the bridge.

"Lieutenant Matashi, any sign of our Romulan friends?" Abigail asked quietly.

"Negative Captain, not as of yet anyway."

"Lieutenant Gunnison, Chief Thor, work on reinforcing the shields. We don't want to be taken by surprise if they do show up." Abigail said quietly.

"We'll see what we can do, Captain," Will said, before muttering under his breath, "I just hope we survive long enough for the Romulans to be a problem."

Ben and the Engineering ensigns fingers flew on the consoles in front of them, a few flickers icons showed on the screens in front of them. "Yes Captain." Ben replied.

"What's that?" Abigail stood up suddenly, pointing to the view screen. For just the briefest of moments there was what looked like a flicker of something on the screen that disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. "Lieutenant Aenera, do you have anything appearing on sensors?"

Lexi's fingers danced across her screen, disabling sensors, reactivating them, running diagnostics and tests, all the while shaking her head, "I'm getting nothing, ma'am. The conditions are playing hell with the sensors, I'm getting spikes of radiation and the sensors are hitting their failsafes and resetting. Secondaries aren't able to penetrate the general cacophony out there. I'm trying to reprogram the failsafes now."

"Lieutenant Rogers, change our course..." She contemplated for a moment. "137 mark 2? I saw something... I know I saw something..."

"Copy 137 mark 2." Buck replied. It was not the heading he'd have chosen: a denser patch of metreon gas pockets with ion storms sweeping across it on multiple vectors. "Might want to turn on the fasten seat-belt sign. Might get a little bumpy from here."

The turbolift door opened and Nikki stepped back onto the Bridge. She moved to her station and did a brief scan of the systems under her control. Tactical and long-range sensor arrays were fully operational. Phaser banks were energized and targeting scanners activated. Photon torpedoes were also energized and primed with a standard antimatter charge. In all cases, automated level 4 diagnostics confirmed operational readiness. Everything's good, she thought, as she turned her attention to the sensor readouts to satisfy herself that there were no threats in range.

Abigail stood in the middle of the bridge, watching keenly as the ship changed course. The area they were heading into was definitely not somewhere she would have chosen to go herself, especially on outward appearances. Already she could feel the ship shuddering through each explosion around them, but they forged on. "Slow us down Lieutenant Rogers, and keep moving directly ahead."

Rogers adjusted the telemetry on his projected course. He frowned. "Cap, we go any slower on this course and we'll end up right in the middle of two ion storms colliding."

"Captain," Will said suddenly, "One of the probes is detecting a vessel in the direction you specified. From what can be detected, it seems to be of unknown origins, but the configuration does match what little Starfleet provided as to the ship we're after. It appears to be dead in space, and I'm not picking up any lifesigns, though it's hard to be sure the moment - there's still no small amount of interference, but we might be able to get more information with the Astraea's main sensors if we can safely get closer."

Alexis looked over to Gunnison, then spoke up before Abigail could respond, "We also have secondary probes, configured for a better sensor suite rather than durability and duration. We might be able to get that better picture without risking the ship as much."

With the sensors working in tandem, the image of their target came through once one of the obscuring clouds dispersed. The ship in question was of an unknown design, long and flat in aesthetic rather then having any massive pylons or nacelles exposed to the world. A little over half as long as the Astraea, and just about half as wide, with almost half as many decks as the Federation craft. Near the end of the craft there were what looked like armored nacelles that seemed to be capable of retracting to lay smooth against the hull, though one of them was stuck in an extended position. The craft appeared to be well armored, a solid design, though there were no windows. No viewports to look in or out. Just a ship adrift in space, cold and dead, caught in the ebb and flow of the celestial tide.

Speculation could guess locations of impulse engines, weapon systems and arrays, and even externally mounted torpedo launchers on external turrets. An alien craft, sporting an alien aesthetic from an alien mind. It's beauty and design were marred by damage from the environs, as bolts of lightning danced along the hull, and signs from where explosions damaged the craft were evident.

The silhouette of the vessel was sleek, unlike anything any of them had ever seen before. "Impressive," Abigail breathed softly as she stared at the screen in front of them. After a moment, she shook her head. "It doesn't look like any Romulan vessel I've ever seen, it lacks the menace." She paused for a moment. "Lieutenant St John, I assume you're in agreeance that an away team won't be viable in these circumstances?"

"Yes, Captain," Nikki said. She too had been studying the readouts. "It would be better if we could tractor the ship to a safer position before we attempted to board."

"Lieutenant Gunnison, Chief Thor, how much will it weaken our shields if we extend them around the other vessel?" Abigail asked.

"If we re-route power from all non-essential systems, including some of Life support I think we can maintain the current shield strength," Thor reported.

"That sounds about right," Will replied. "Though I'd also suggest that we consider getting out of here with the ship ASAP, if we can. How long we can hold out in here is something that I'll admit that I'm not in the mood to find out first-hand."

Ensign Nolan turned around from the medical station. "Ma'am, the less time we spend in here the better. Reports are starting to increase on symptoms due to the radiation. Non-critical still, but they are rising."

Abigail nodded slightly. "Very well, lock onto the vessel with a tractor beam. Extend our shields. Lieutenant Rogers, plot the quickest course out of here. Ensign Nolan, advise sickbay we're leaving Hell."

She exhaled slowly as she leaned back in her seat, hands resting on the arm rests of her chair. Something told her that this was far from over.

 

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