Last updated on 1/21/98
DaSilva's Quarters - 05:00:00
DaSilva snores blissfully in his quarters, finally getting some sleep after the monkey drills 'vouf put the crew through on jump exit.
THUD! DaSilva's sleeping form rolls off the bunk and into the wall at the sudden lurch of inertial compensator's failing. "Shit!"
Rolling smoothly to a crouch, DaSilva scans the compartment reflexively, then relaxes. Sitting on the bunk, he drags his vacc suit closer with his foot, then begins to shrug into it.
"Medical, this is DaSilva. If somebody isn't dead or maimed this time, they're going to be... I'll be up in med-"
Crash! Bang! Boom!
Thul instinctively takes cover against any flying debris that may be about and signals JJ to do the same... but there is none. The room shakes, but nothing other than Silvmane's panel gets damaged.
As gravity fails, Munro hooks her feet into the the chair she was previously sitting on. Grabbing hard helmet, PLSS and gloves near by, she yells "Button up! NOW!" and dons them. Turning to her boards, she starts scanning for hard data on damage.
As the klaxons sound, haut-Frieder, Grey, and Silvmane yank on helmets and gloves, then grab their PLSSes.
Aolrkhea' quickly seals her feet, hands, and head. Automatically, she pulls the tranq filled guass pistol out of her carry bag and straps the gun and holster to her thigh, humming an ancient poem about a women's place in combat.
Thul buttons up his suit against any decompression that may happen next, and checks his weapon. << Armoury, Jonson! Checking in... what in hell's going on out there?!? >>
Thul then takes his rifle out of safety and starts checking for hostiles....
"YES!!" The shout is almost a scream. "A Hyper-Spatial Tube! He Did It!"
At the moment of Limner's Triumph, reality intrudes. Thru the deck plates the sounds of explosions ring like gongs. Outside the viewport lighting dies, and is replaced by dim emergency lights, and the Igor shivers as her inertial compensators register the loss of the Elissa's IC's and gravity.
The speakers sound 'Vouf's << ...repell borders... >> and Alliara looks at Dave Sokuku, who's staring at the speaker.
"Well, Dave. We're in to our 'lil belly-buttons, and sinking! Better suit up!"
Fumbling at the suit pocket, Alliara removes the gloves and helmet and wears them. Her hands, if anyone is watching, are shaking slightly.
"Hell, I forgot what the adrenalin rush feels like..." she mutters and reaches for the crossbow at her hip... Gone. It is not there! In the cabin, floating somewhere, forgotten in the rush to PhySci Compartment. "Blast. Blast! Damn! Hell! Sodomizing, sheep-hating, filthy hole!" she mutters.
<< PATER, 'Am suited up and ready for assignment. Notify security and or damage control crew. >>
"Igor! What the HELL is going on?"
_It appears that the Elissa is under attack from parties unknown. Power plant is down, and with it gravity and IC's. PATER reports possible boarders at stern and starboard. Full extent of damage unknown due to sensor outage._
"*DAMN!*" Limner's fury is suddenly funneled into action. Moving faster than most people have seen, he starts calling up information from the last sensor data. Its not enough. "Igor, swing Zhodtenna clockwise 180 degrees and point it toward the aft section. Take a snapshot of activeity while it is pointed directly starboard. Initiate passive EMS scan of entire cargo bay, especially visible and IR spectrum and report ANY movements. Patch me into PATER"
Outside the large Zhodtenna begins to slowly swing around, at a rate of about 5 degrees a second.
"PATER! If I am to help I need access to ships sensors! Please tie me in directly!"
_Patch approved and on line, Doctor Limner._
Outside the Zhodtenna swings past the starboard side of the ship, Igor recording any anomalies.
As Goughzar hears the call to repel boarders, he turns on the balls of his feet and dives back towards the bridge, yelling out to the open air.
"Kharrbyegh, vuarro!"
"Goughzar here, Order's Captain?"
Zar grabs the hard helmet sitting next to the bridge chair and seals it with practiced fingers. As he pulls the gloves over his hands, he toggles the microphone in the helmet, "Skhei aekhfe!, Begin clock, full status display NOW!"
Sitting in front of a console monitoring the situation when it 'hits the fan' Vanessa straps herself in, grabs the helmet she set beside her and has just started to float off the desk, connects and seals it to her suit and pulls on her gloves from her belt. She then concentrates on the information being displayed at her console.
"Jimminy crickets..." mutters Azani as he places his helmet on his head. The black hud covers his face, he clicks his belt on the armor and fiddles with his wrist comp. He shimmers briefly stands erect, readies his gun and whispers, "groovy."
Etienne, having braced himself for the collapsing hole, snaps into "combat mode." His right hand free's the turret of all safeties, while his left stabs the comm button.
<< Pater, prepare... >>
Etienne is interupted by a horrendously loud clang, transmitted not through the non-existent air of the hangar bay, but through the clamps holding the fighter to the deck. Instants later, Ace is envoloped in an inferno.
Etienne hits the button ordering the bay doors to open. The doors, partially buckled by the blast, refuse to budge. The Ace is trapped.
<< Pater! Blow the hangar bay doors, NOW!! >>
Lazer slings his rifle with an entirely automatic motion, and with three quick steps is over the security console. "Grab your weapons, helmets, and brace for impact," he orders urgently. Bracing with both arms (one heedlessly in front of Tar's face, he starts scanning the tacticals...
Rigo quickly braces himself against the wall and the bench and, after a second's thought, engages his magnetic boots for greater traction on the floor.
> _ATTENTION! DEFENSIVE ALERT! INCOMING MISSILE SALVO!_
From his comfortable pose, Christian is rudely shocked into frantic attention by the alert. "What the hell...?" He sits up and his hands begin to fly over the console, consigning the dhrage game to oblivion and calling up an array of operations and tactics holos.
As the missiles wound the Elissa, Christian is the very picture of worry for his colleagues, close friends in particular. Nevertheless, he continues his efforts to put the Aurora fully on-line and get more information.
<< All hands... prepare to repel boarders. >>
Christian *feels* the tension in his friend's voice and offers a silent prayer for Bhyarrvouf's safety and success, then it is back to business.
"Moira, engage EMM from reserves and initiate emergency warm start. _Aye, sir. Executing._ comes the silky response. Christian busies himself with engaging all passive sensors in a wide-area scan, then in warming up the active sensor, jammer, and communications suites, all the while keeping an eye on the engineering status holodyne.
Suppressing a small stab of panic Rigo begins to go through the mental checklist he has been memorizing over the last months of drill. Secure hand- or foothold. Already done. Engage magnetic boots. Already done. Take Zero-G medication. His hand darts into a pocket in the utility vest he is wearing over his combat armour.
"Christ," Lazer announces. He takes a quick look around the room. "Kor, start cranking the door. Rigo, grab that float pallet, and load it up--"
"Aye! Aye! Sir!" Vanessa replies to Lazers command and heads out. Starting at the B lift, then A lift, then computer pit.
Not trusting himself to speak Rigo uses his other hand to give the silent acknowledgement handsign of the Albe Armed Forces.
Lazer continues, "--Tar, get out and start on lock 4-1. Everyone else, form up."
Tar glides out of his seat donning first his helmet then his gloves.
Lazer slides into the space vacated by Berana, locking ankles around the chair brace and floating above it. With a quick motion, he snaps the helmet on, then begins scanning the tacticals.
<< Farouk to Sokuku. Help Schmud up here as quickly as possible. Out. >>
As gravity fades away, Abdul casually activates his magnetic boots. He mutters, "Why is gravity the first thing to go?" With this he slowly gets out of his seat and starts shuffling towards the pit's door at a painfully slow pace.
"Dave, do you want to carry me there or catch me when I slip?"
Smythe feels the loss of gravity, hears 'Vouf's words, and grabs for his hard helm... but it's been a loooong time since he's been in 0g and his sudden movement for his helm starts to throw him out of his seat. Instinctively he grabs the arm rests of his chair and, steadying himself, he reaches slowly for his helm, grabs it, and starts sealing himself up. Fifteen seconds later he unhooks his heavy duty work gloves from his utility belt and seals them to his PLSS.
<< Smythe tuh Farouk. Willyah sund Sokuku bahk with summ 10 millahmeetuh HEAP fowwah pistols? Ah reehlahz it's naht thuh best, buht itta do a might betta thun this heeyah trank stuff. Also, if yah sund'm back wuth ahn ARL or Lazuh, Ahl tekk up ah p'sishun in thuh low buths tuh covuh thuh corr'duh down heeyah. If it'suhn ARL, send uh couple extruh clips. >>
As gravity suddenly fails, Bishop grabs the back of the couch next to him and gracefully launches himself projectile-like towards the exit. By the time he impacts the wall, his soft helmet is sealed and his gloves are in place. As the the hatch is not one of the airtight monstrosities built into the structural bulkheads, he simply grabs a groove in the hatch surface, plants his feet against the frame, and heaves. The metal doors part with a groan. Bishop spares a parting glance and wave for Talon and Shrike, and then he is out and gone, headed aft along the deck 4 corridor.
Shrike grabs the back of the couch he is on, hits the on switch for his mag boots and makes sure his feet are firmly on the deck. He then yanks the helmet off it's carrying hook and carefully, but quickly, dons it and immediately follows with the gloves. Looking up he's just in time to see Bishop disappearing out the door.
As the ship is rocked by the explosion and the gravity fails, Rafe is thrown against the table in a clatter of armor, dropping his helmet. He switches on the magnetic clamps in his armor boots and grabs for the errant headgear. After donning it and checking the pressure integrity of his armor, he looks to Lazer for instructions.
_ATTENTION! DEFENSIVE ALERT! INCOMING MISSILE SALVO!_ PATER's voice, tuned to a note of authority and urgency, echoes throughout the ship.
"-ical, Oh -"
The Elissa suddenly rings as if struck by a giant hammer, every pipe and deckplate screaming in agony. The hull-breach klaxons begin to blare. There is another, louder clang, followed by a thunderous explosion. The entire compartment vibrates.
"- SHIT!" DaSilva's movements become a precise blur as he dons the vacc suit with practiced speed.
With a stomach-churning lurch, gravity cuts out, along with the interior lights and air blowers. With a flickering gasp, emergency lighting comes on, illuminating all decks in a lurid red glow.
<< All hands... prepare to repel boarders. >>
Yorblin's voice comes over the com, harsh and obscured by background static.
<< Med Team initiate boarding plan, except 'Khea, stay with engineering, DaSilva meet me outside the Armoury. Tabor, the lounge. Morton, good luck you're assigned to command. >>
<< DaSilva here. I'll meet you in the armory momentarily. Tell 'em to warm up an operating table and a laser for me. >>
"Dulinor, get the sickbay door open."
Yorblin begins rapidly donning his gloves and helmet and grabbing his PLSS A. As he is doing this Lucan is assembling the minor treatment kit for transport to the Lounge.
"Right behind you, Jan." Tabor quickly dons his helmet and PLSS, then grabs a crash kit from the wall.
"Start the clock, PATER," 'Vouf says crisply, hooking a leg in the armrest of his couch and pulling himself down as he grabs his hard-helmet and dons it. "All tactical and sensor systems still in operation, route to Command. Protocol Alpha is now in effect."
_Protocol Alpha initiated, Captain. The tactical clock is running._
Aiwi yowls, "Blow the explosive bolts to the Fighter Bay, Mister Neriika!"
"Bolts fired!" he announces, and reaches for his fishbowl. His first movement nearly spills him out of the chair, and he forces himself to take his time.
Aiwi throws herself across the Bridge in the zero grav and claws loose the tear-off door on the emergency hatch next to the exit. Reaching in, she hauls out a power-crank, and locks it down, setting it running with a whir. As airlock 0 into the corridor grinds opens, she hooks on her vacc helmet with her free hand.
Upon 'Vouf ordering "repel boarders," Akhouw undergoes a transformation of terrifying proportions. His ears snap upwards, his fur fluffs out, and his eyes gleam with an icily murderous fury. In a blur of activity, he slaps his vacc helmet in place, then propels himself over to airlock 0 beside Aiwi.
Nishu scrabbles at his board, ghostly menus flickering past as he searches for the button he wants. He finds it. He presses it.
The jar of the airlock being forced almost knocks Nishu out of his chair again, and he curses softly. No time to strap in, not until the suit's tight.
'Vouf doesn't strap himself in, but leaves his legs in an unusual position, one hooked UNDER the footrest of his chair and one braced OVER it, almost like a scissors-lock position, as his chair's small holodisplay reconfigures to a tactical display of the Elissa and the immediate surrounds. Instantly, all audio communication on the Elissa becomes slightly harsh-sounding and full of background noise; Blaine winces for a moment as his earphones register the incredible wall of broadband jamming that PATER has initiated over all frequencies.
"External sensors! Where's our opponent?!"
"Behind us... I think." Nishu begins pulling up a repeater of the sensor ops board, for more information. At first, all that he has to offer is the few seconds of data recorded before the missile strike - enough for a quick and unscientific assessment.
"Behind us, aye. And big..."
The seconds tick silently... The minutes... The hours... The days....
THE SECONDS! Alliara reminds herself. The BLOODY seconds...
Rigo cautiously gets to his feet and moves towards a float pallet which he thereupon begins to load with those laser rifles and ARLs that still remains unallocated and any other useful weapons.
As Tar heads for the door that Kor is cranking, he asks, "Lazer, do want me in combat armor, after I get the door open?" It becomes obvious that no immediate reply is forthcoming.
Tar is then out the door, and gets to airlock 4-1 just as a very large Aslan exec comes flying down the hallway. Tar hopefully ducks before he becomes an Aslan-human-bulkhead sandwich. As Akhouw moves to his quarters, Tar starts getting airlock 4-1 open.
When Ahhouw rounds the corner again, Tar utters a quiet, "Go with honor, sir" from the corner by the airlock.
Then to Laser, Tar comms, << Airlock 4-1 open, corridor clear to Grav lift C, Aslan enroute to ship, confirm on your tac display, returning to armoury. >>
_Please stand by._ Comes the insufferably calm reply.
Several eternal seconds pass. Nothing happens.
_I have no response from the emergency coupling, mister de Mer._ advises PATER. _I will attempt to reroute..._
*WHAM!!*
_...the signal._ finishes the sentence, as the two bay door halves tumble away from the bow of the fighter. Instantly, the ball of flame surrounding Etienne leaps out and away from the ship, dying even as it moves. The fighter creaks slightly at the sudden drop in external pressure and temperature, but all displays show green.
The back of the fighter immediately begins to acquire a sparkling coat of ice, as gas from ruptured lines and compartments above streams down onto the small craft and freezes in the vacuum.
_Mister de Mer._ PATER continues. _I have no power to extend the launch rails. I have, however, been able to retract the clamps. I am afraid you will have to launch from the retracted position._
Sokuku finishes fastening his soft helmet, having already slipped on his gloves. Sliding carefully over the railing around the holo-tank, swings to a stop in front of Schmud, firmly grips the front of his vacc-suit and says, "Just kill your mag-boots and let me do the moving, OK?"
As the boots deactivate, Dave gently pushes of the rail, and grabs the hatch frame. Firmly levering the door open, he slips out into the corridor trailing Schmud behind him. As fate would have it, they arrive just in time to take advantage of the open grav-lift doctor Tabor is preparing to close. Squeezing the two of them through, he slowly, carefully ping-pongs himself and Abdul into the armoury just behind doctor Yorblin.
Ger reaches down under the nav console and brings up his hard helmet which is calmly attached to his vacc suit. Hooking one leg around a chair support, Ger observes the distinct red nature of the navigational and helm systems.
Seeing that the display is not too productive, the Count reduces it to a corner of the console, and calls up the engineering repeaters to observe what little information that they can give.
At that moment, the Elissa shudders again, with a smaller impact, and several more telltales turn red.
"What was THAT?!" 'Vouf scans the holo rapidly, wincing.
_The starboard hatch of cargo bay 2 has been breeched. That deck is undergoing explosive decompression._
"TSAKHA!" << Security, ABORT all troop movements to the Cargo Bays-- concentrate blockades forward of the midline personnel tube. Prepare for evac from stern. >>
<< Engineering, this is the Captain. Get the forward vac-doors leading to the Bridge open! I want everyone except the following personnel to get their tails to the Bridge: Munro, haut-Frieder, Doejin, and Jonson. Horne, hustle 'em along then report to Farouk. The rest of you, get the AFT door open. Bishop, get the fore vac doors open! >>
<< Already in progress, Captain. >> is Bishop's clipped reply.
'Vouf is already on to other matters.
<< All riders, crash power-up and ready for launch on my orders and NOT before! We don't know what's out there yet.... >>
"Goughzar here, Order's Captain?"
> << All riders, crash power-up and ready for launch on my orders and > NOT before! We don't know what's out there yet.... >>
"Ve may not be able to vight, but by *Gott* ve can give ze ship back its *eyes*!!" growls Morser.
"Damn right!" agrees Werner, as he finishes sealing his suit. "Karl, your helmet isn't fastened."
"Oh, ya, ya. Vielen danke." As Morser busies himself, Werner taps his commdot. "PATER, is the probe jettison port equiped with explosive bolts?"
_Affirmative, doctor Werner._
"Fire them *now*, please." commands Werner. A series of rifle-shoots sound faintly through the hull. Stripping his handcomp off his wrist, he waves it at Morser. "Power pack, Karl."
"Gutt!! Sehr gutt!" Morser quickly peels the power pack from his wristcomp and plugs it into the holo-panel.
"Is that enough?" queries Werner.
"Ve hope." replies Morser. "Launching one, two, unt three." *Thud*, *thud*, *thud*.
_Clean separation, doctor._ observes PATER.
"Ya, OK." acknowledges Morser. "Manfred, zis is not enove power to drive ze holo-dizplay."
"Use the flat-panels." snaps Werner. "PATER, get those probes out of our shadow and evade for as long as possible."
_Affirmative, doctor._
Smythe, floundering near the compartment ceiling appeals to his colleagues.
<< Wernuh, yor zeruh G capabuhl, arn'chya? Help muh duhn frum heeyuh. >>
Werner ignores him.
Werner turns to Smythes vacant seat. "Ostyn, the Holoptic has battery backup? We can feed the probe data to it!! Here, grab a commline."
When he realizes that Smythe has 'left' his post, he reaches up and unceremoniously hauls the physicist down to the deck with a grunt.
<< Thanks Munfruhd. I guss thuht's whah they put magnuhtics in these boots! >>, offers Smythe as he activates them.
<< Yeah, Hollie's got uh battery backup. She'll run fowwuh darn near 6 howwuhs, two if we use her Holo display. Plus, ah've got Box heeyah, >> Smythe says as he pats the black box attached to his vacc suit at his left thigh. << Box'll run fowuh up tuh twelve howwuhs withaht a rechahge. And thuht includes a minichuh holo. >>
Slowly and cautiously, Smythe turns towards his HOLOPTIC computer, and starts walking towards it. His body sways a little as he tries to adjust to no gravity. << Muhnfruhd, Ah'll gitt Hollie up'n runnin'. PATUH, wouldyuh be so kahnd to pipe thuh sensuh data tuh Hollie? Thunx. >>
Smythe reaches his lab computer, the one he calls Hollie. He sits down, by the desk sized computer, locking his feet around the chair leg, and begins configuring some 2D panel displays.
A 3D holospheric display, a meter in diameter, appears above Smythe's computer. Smythe calls to Werner and Morser, << Kahl, Mahnfruhd, Hollie's gottuh link-up... >>
_Probes clearing occulation... now_ announces PATER.
"Mein *GOTT*!! exclaims Morser. Smythe flinches violently back from the small holo-display, as if it's contents could reach out and grab him.
Werner just scowls.
Moving slowly Shrike gathers in the ARL which has started to drift off and begins 'walking' to the door. Just as he steps into the hallway ...
Before 'Vouf has finished speaking, Lazer turns and begins adding his own orders. << Shrike, start dumping as much crap as you can from mess and lounge out into the hall. Azani, Awntremont, Kor, go help. >> Lazer is calm and businesslike, wasting no breath.
<< Merkle, MacLaeran, this is Farouk. Bring laser torches, weld shut the doors from Bay 2 into Lift C.
As Merkle slowing shuffles at the end of the Engineering Bunny line...
<< Merkle to Lazer. Acknowledged. Mack? >>
Merkle slows his progress until he's stopped. Without waiting to see if MacLaren is with him, he turns, and begins plodding toward the entrance of the machine shop.
Smythe stands up to reach for his sidearm, a 10mm auto snub pistol, but as he does so, he finds himself rising from the deck. His boots catch on the bottom of his chair, causing him to begin a slow backwards somersault. As he gently rebounds off the ceiling, he manages to correct his rotation, but continues on towards the floor.
"Sheeyitt!" He hollers into nothingness, his commdot not activated, "Somebody gitt me dahn frum heeyuh!"
Lazer continues to snap orders left and right.
<< Rigo, include all the grenades you have room for. >>
<< 'Vouf, this is Farouk. Question sending Shrike, Hfolraw to the Peltast. Over. >>
<< That's a GO, Lazer. But FAST! 'Vouf out. >>
Rafe acknowledges Lazer's order with a nod and finishes sealing his armor helmet.
When the airlock cranks open, Akhouw launches himself down the corridor, rapidly covering the distance to the intersection. His attempt to negotiate the turn is only partially successful, as his momentum causes his imposing bulk to impact the aft wall with a bruising thud. Sparing only a moment to hiss obscene imprecations at the pain, Akhouw moves off down the branch corridor to the port XO cabin door, adding more evidence of the hazards of zero-G movement.
Aiwi's actions mirror Akhouw's in her cabin as she grabs her weapons.
A violent heave makes short work of the cabin door, and Akhouw enters. He locates his trusty trolitakheal and hurriedly straps into it, sparing a glance at the tell-tales to insure proper operation. Exiting, he moves to airlock 4-1, rips off the Emergency panel and cranks the airlock open. A quick glance ensures that Aiwi is similiarly prepared to move.
Aiwi says, << To Engineering and up-- we leave doors open behind us for evacuees, then seal our path to the Khtaliyr behind us, my lord. >>
"You heard the wolf!" snaps Munro, "Those not named get forward! Someone get those doors open! Aolrkhea', I'm ordering you to stay here. We need you."
<< Aurora acknowledges. Standing by. Van Der Merwe out. >> Christian secures his helmet and gloves, then tightens his restraint harness. "Moira, run full diagnostics on maneuver drive and weapons systems. Combat protocol." By way of silent response, the lighting dims and the pumps evacuating the ship's atmosphere are dimly heard in the background. << Aurora to Paladin. 'Zar, you on target? >>
"Hostiles, PATER. What're we dealing with?"
_The hostile boarding force consists of three small but heavily armed boarding craft, two at the stern breach and one at the starboard breach. All craft are stationkeeping near the breaches with personnel hatches open; I anticipate invasion when our internal pressure drops low enough to allow ingress. I estimate one to two minutes._
"THREE? That's IT?!"
_My apologies, Captain. I was forced to launch prematurely to avoid functional loss of our bearing missile turrets to the incoming salvo. Setup was incomplete, and I was only able to destroy seven of the ten hostile craft._
"I'll forgive you if we survive this," 'Vouf says drily. << Bridge to Fighter Bay-- Etienne, we've got two armed gunboats directly above you! You've got to take them out before they can unload their people! >>
J.J. spits out his cheroot and grabs the hard helmet on his Combat Armor and buttons up. One hand for the ship, he thinks as he activates his mag boots. The Helmets HUD glows an assuring green as the suit seals itself and pressures up. << OK people you heard the Captain, let get a move on. >> With a smooth motion J.J. pulls a combat snub pistol from the shoulder harness on his suit and changes clips, the HEAP clip sliding in, locking reassuringly.
haut-Frieder launches himself across the compartment heading aft, as Silvmane gingerly heads forward, Grey right behind him. Grey grabs the pull-cover on the power-crank to stop himself, and it comes off in his hand as he bounces back off the wall. Silvmane gets the crank onto the door and starts it as Grey, flailing, recovers himself as best he can. When the door is fully open, he squeezes through and opens the next door with the same crank, exposing the long tube leading forward.
As he does so, every panel in Main Engineering winks out in neat, sequential order. Everyone recognizes the proper sequence for control transfer to the backup holodynes on the Bridge. Soon, only the hard-wired power telltales are lit on the secondary boards. All else is dark, except for the red emergency lights.
<< Let's get out of here, people, >> Silvmane says, heading up the tube.
<< I'm with you! >> Grey follows him. He looks over his shoulder at haut-Frieder as he pauses in the doorway for a bare instant. << Hey, big guy-- keep yer head down, okay? >> Then he's gone.
<< I'll try, >> haut-Frieder says softly. Then, with more authority: << Everyone out! Boris, Angus, 'Khea, Shurv-- to the Bridge! RAUS! >>
"Aaron, I shall stay with Yolanda. Go with honor." Tightening down her gear, 'Khea drifts to the back door with Munro.
<< You're nuts, lady, >> Aaron says with heavy sarcasm. << I don't have a choice but to stay-- Chief Munro will need me to restart the Plant. Ech mir, it's a good day to die, I suppose. >>
haut-Frieder gathers a portable repair kit and looks over at Munro. << Awaiting orders, >> he whispers. << Now what? >>
Munro launches herself aft toward the door leading to the engineering spaces, bouncing gently and grabbing a handhold to stop by the door. Acivating her com unit enroute to the door, she answers haut-Frieder's question and notifies the bridge at the same time of her decision to move aft.
<< Munro to Bridge. Can't judge the damage from Main Engineering. Going to Main Plant Board on Deck 2. Munro Out >>.
Munro will then work with haut-Frieder to get the door open and
begin moving toward Deck 2 using PATER's info to avoid getting shot.
<< Thanks PATER, ACE out! >>
Even as PATER completes the status report, de Mer can see the face of the enemy. The ship hanging half a kilometer off the stern is only a fifth the size of the Elissa, but the bristle of missile and laser turrets studding its surface make it seem *much* larger.
Etienne activates all passive sensors and sends a burst of power to the thrusters: 6g's for 0.4 seconds.
Lazer's voice crackles on the commo.
<< Shrike and Hfolraw to the Peltast. Take the key and be fast. >>
<< Shrike here, acknowledged. >>
Shrike takes a few steps to the B lift Iris 4-5, grab the actuator and switches it to open.
"Aye, sir." Hfolraw takes the security interlock module from the cabinet and slips it into a pocket on his combat harness. Slinging his ARL, he starts for the door. << Shrike, I've got the "key". I'll meet you there. >> Careful to keep one mag-boot on the floor, Hfolraw steps into the corridor.
Bishop hangs motionless as the power-crank slowly whines the two halves of airlock 4-2 apart. As soon as the gap is large enough, Bishop slips through, slams open the emergency tear-off for airlock 4-3, and immediately begins repeating the process with another power-crank on that airlock. With the second airlock beginning to part, Bishop turns around and grabs the aft power-crank for airlock 4-2, lobbing it forward, tumbling end over end down the deck 4 corridor. No invaders will be using that particular tool to aid them in moving forward towards the bridge.
As airlock 4-3 slowly grinds open, Bishop pops the emergency O2 locker on his right and grabs both of the bail-out bottles stored there. He jams one into each hip side pocket on his suit.
Lazer releases his grip on the chair, sending himself floating up gently while rotating forward a quarter turn. He kicks off the wall, carefully launching himself across the armoury to the explosives safe. Pulling a half turn in the middle, he absorbs his momentum with his knees as he lands against the wall.
As he opens the combination lock, he asks, << PATER, give me a broadcast line. Farouk to all crew. We are going to attempt-- >>
<< Security, this is Bishop. >> Bishops voice is unnaturally calm and surprisingly devoid of exertion. << I need an ARL with a spare clip, two HE grenades, and a kilo of TDX with a detonator, at grav-lift C, deck 4, *right* *NOW*. >>
<< Farouk to Bishop. Thirty seconds. What for? >>
<< Welcome mat at grav-lift 4-C for our guests. I'll be there in about half a minute. Bishop out. >>
Seeing someone on the other side also waiting for the iris to open, Shrike yells over the comm, << Hey, deck 5!, someone start the 5-1 airlock opening. >>
Ace leaps away from scarred hull of the Elissa, in a course suicidally close to the looming enemy ship. Instantly *Prrrk!* *Prrrk!* burps can be heard through the fighter hull, as attitude control jets controlled by the auto-evade program fire. The small needle-shaped craft veers wildly as the fleet escort becomes a wall passing above the canopy barely thirty meters away. Etienne flinches as beam laser turrets lance green light around the ship, and then abruptly cease as Ace moves inside their traversal arc.
Nishu's pulling on his gloves when he hears PATER's report on the boarding craft, muffled by the helmet. For a moment he threatens to break out in the giggles - only seven out of ten? Instead, he smiles grimly as he reaches under the station and pulls out the oxygen feed line, attaching it to his suit. "This lady has a dagger under her skirts," he murmurs, "and she's not afraid to use it." Suddenly the odds don't seem so bad.
His suit inflates, slightly, as Nishu fastens the straps around him and takes a few deep breaths of cool air. His hands come to rest on the console again, just in time for Vouf's next order.
DaSilva seals the last tab on his vacc suit and grabs his gauss pistol and black bag. Prying open the hatchway of his cabin, he launches himself into a flat dive down the hallway. In the instant's breathing space of freel flight, his hands fasten the holster shut and slide the strap of his black bag around his shoulder.
Alliara's patience snaps... and she thumbs the comm-dot. << Pater, would ANYONE from the bloody PhySci compartment be NEEDED? I CAN probably function as damage control, please assign me to something. Sitting in this dark pit is NOT good for the psyche. >>
_Proceed to the Crew Lounge at once, Mister Niigurd,_ PATER replies.
<< To hear is to know, >> Alliara sends back.
Rafe stands up and makes his way to the desk. He grabs a roll of adhesive tape and starts taping fire extinguishers into a bundle. When he's done, he tows the massive but weightless load to the Lounge as ordered.
The moment the Iris opens enough Shrike squeezes through as quickly as possible and moves quickly to and through the 5-1 airlock, to the 5-2 airlock.
Bishop squeezes through the half open slabs of airlock 4-3, and moves into the grav-lift C compartment. He glances left and right at the hatches into cargo bay 2, just long enough to hear the satisfying clanks of the hatch locks engaging. Airlocks 4-2 and 4-3 just complete opening as he grabs the next power-crank and attacks airlock 4-4.
As Rigo finishes loading up the float pallet he reports it to Lazer and smoothly goes on to assemble the items required by Bishop.
Lazer gestures for him to take over. He drifts back slightly, keeping hold of a cabinet handle. He clicks back to the broadcast channel, and concentrates on speaking clearly.
Boris is lifting power packs and torches from their racks.
[If MacLaren is tagging along, he should arrive about now]
Then, as a side thought, Merkle snags a hand full of webbed belting, quickly wrapping it around his waist and the tops of his legs, in a rough fashion of a harness, all the while praying that his ancestors will allow the belting to hold him in place while welding, or if sudden decompression tries to suck him into oblivion.
Snapping the magboots on, Alliara gingerly sets off towards the crew lounge, looking down each corridor going aft before she crosses it.
Alliara mag-clops towards the iris walve, breaks the seal on the emergency "can-opener" and cranks the iris open. Aiming herself "up" she pushes off the floor as the mag-boots are switched off. The push is not too well done - she floats "up" at an angle, hitting her head on the iris edge.
Cursing, Alliara floats up through the valve, and "can-closes" the iris from the other side.
<< Farouk to all crew. Starting again. We are going to attempt to blow lock Four-C-S in the faces of the boarders. Be prepared for explosive decompression of Forward Compartment at any time, though we will attempt to give further warning. We want to vent as much air at possible to buy time, so do NOT seal airlocks-- >>
Bow and stern attitude jets fire in opposite directions, and Ace executes a perfect box loop around the stern of the bogey, rocketing back down its top toward the Elissa. As Etienne clears the dorsal surface of the escort, he can see the boarding craft as specks against the damaged stern of the jump tender. A chirp sounds in his ear as the fire control system acquires the boarding craft and begins calculating a firing solution. Firing the RCS again, Etienne pulls the nose down hard, and sends the fighter into an almost vertical dive down the aft end of the Elissa.
"Vite, Ace, vite! We need that lock-on..." Etienne's thumb hovers over the firing button, waiting...
<< Werner here, Captain. Comm channel one is on line. We have remote sensors deployed. >>
The view is no less terrifying for its familiarity. A battered, but nevertheless servicable, 10,000 ton wedge-shaped fleet escort hangs a bare half a kilometer off the Elissa's dorsal starboard stern. It's batteries are all bearing, and open empty cargo bays suggest the boarding process is already well under way. The only glimmer of hope are the slowly dispersing pockets of gas and debris, surrounding the Elissa, a grim testament to PATER's devastating accuracy.
In addition the the looming enemy ship, two smaller vehicles, like undersized but heavily armed G-carriers hover just off the stern of the Elissa, almost in contact with the ruptured hull. A third similar vehicle stands aside the starboard cargo bay #2 hatch. All three craft are beginning to disgorge armored figure into the rents in the ship's hull.
Inside Limner gets his patch into the same data feeding the sensor pit.
"Yes! Conditions are Right!" Limner makes an electronic snapshot of the data, fearing it will be lost soon. He then switches his commo to a hardwired line to the bridge.
Bishop continues his vigil at the main corridor chokepoint, but a part of his mind is elsewhere.
<< *PATER?* >>
<< _They are waiting to board off the starboard hatch, Adrian. Cargo bay over-pressure is still above 200 torr. Observe._ >> In Bishop's mind, the cargo bay SecureCams show a ragged, gaping hole in the starboard cargo bay hatch, just over three meters across. Ugly black streaks point away from the opening, painted along the inner bulkheads. Drifting just beyond breech is an armored vehicle bearing strange markings.
As airlock 4-4 begins to slide open, Bishop drifts slowly back, away from it. He slowly raises both hands, index fingers extended, in a ridiculous parody of a child using his digits for make-believe guns. Both are pointed directly aft, as the connecting corridor across the heart of cargo bay 2 slowly reveals inself in the emergency lighting. Beyond the walls, the atmosphere of cargo bay 2 howls away into dirty vacuum.
The only thing missing from Zben Blaine was his smile. The calm efficiency, the rapid response to changing displays, the oneness with his board are all there. But the smile has been replaced with, not a frown, but a look of grim determination. Suiting up rapidly, he notes the departure of Akhouw and Aiwi, and notes how short handed that leaves the Bridge. "Better busy than dead" flits through his mind. The ECM jamming frequencies ripple across one corner of his console, while the status of internal comm links occupies a larger portion. When the Science team launches the probes, he clears a main data artery so that the Bridge can see their data at its best. He also diverts a smaller data line to the Igor, on the request of PATER.
_I am reading entry by hostile forces at Deck 2 stern airlock,_ PATER reports. _Functional securecams in Power Plant are picking up sporadic visual data._
Zben does his best to bolster PATER's routing, clearing other applications.
"Let's have it," 'Vouf mutters. "Pipe to Security." << Farouk, looks like we got company. >>
The display flickers and shows the dimly lit expanses of the main Power Plant compartment. Ice covers everything in a twinkling sheet of blue-white-- the remnants of the atmosphere. At the back, pale light streams through the ragged hole that used to be the airlock leading to the Shuttle Bay. Silhouetted in the circular opening is a shadowy form, that ducks inside into the shadows. Then another. And another....
Suddenly, in Zben's other ear he gets a strange request...
"Paladin, bring us up to full power and seal external airlocks. Prepare for launch on my orders. Continue routing all data on encoded line to Pater."
As Goughzar watches the readouts indicate full power being distributed, the lighting drops to a dull red and the joints on his vacc suit stiffen slightly as the last of the air is pumped from the inside of the Paladin. Satisfied with everything all full level, Goughzar scans the sensor read outs to determine the ships, orientation, power reads, and the Paladin's analysis.
Moving very slowly and carefully in the unaccustomed Zero G, Tabor floats after Yorblin until he reaches Deck 4, where he peels off to enter the Crew Lounge, whose door was left open by Bishop. << Tabor in position, we're open for business. >>
"Here you go, Abdul. Be careful out there."
"Thanks Dave." Abdul re-activates his magnetic boots and sets about recovering his personal weapon from storage. "Lazer, is there time to get armored up? Before we dash off that is."
<< Grab it, get to lock 4-1, suit up there. >>
Upon hearing this, Abdul staggers across to the armour lockers and begins gathering the important pieces of a suit of combat armour.
Turning to Farouk, Sokuku asks, "Major, doctor Smythe is screaming for a firearm. Can you spare anything I can shut him up with?" Hastily, he adds, "I mean, anything I can take *back* to him?"
"No time, Dave. Take that," he indicates the satchel with Bishop's TDX and detonator, "to Bishop, C compartment."
Rigo hands over the satchel and calmly begins to fill several more. As he works a thought suddenly occurs to him and discreetly closing his face plate he adresses PATER: "PATER, I don't want to insult the Captain, so I don't want to go through channels with this. But it's just possible that there are options that wouldn't spring to his mind. Could you maybe suggest to him that trying to talk to these guys may help? Perhaps they are mistaking us for someone they don't like. Or if not, to scream for help? Our enemies may have enemies of their own."
_I will relay your suggestions to the Captain at once, Mister Edmondsen. Do you wish them to be delivered anonymously?_
"I think that would be best, yes," Rigo replies and opens his faceplate again.
No sooner do the three recon probes begin to transmit, when beams of intense green light lance out from several turrets on the enemy ship.
*ssss-WHOOOM!!* Transmission from the first probe instantly dissolves into a window of snow.
_Probe one downlink lost._ states PATER matter-of-factly. _Commencing evasive._
Even as he speaks, both other video signals begin doing eye-twisting dances on the screen. In one window, the enemy ship begins to disappear behind the edge of the Elissa, before becoming a searing bloom of green fire. The display goes black for a moment, and then returns to live in a jagged, surrealistic thermographic painting.
_Primary video feeds on probe two have failed._ advises PATER. _Switching to high temperature sensor packs._
The third probe appears to have decided to ram the assault craft standing off the cargo bay #2 hatch. The vehicle rushs to fill the display, and then serves and stops moving.
_I have parked probe three in the boarding craft's ventral shadow, Captain. They have no weapons I can identify on that surface. They cannot fire and the mother ship would destroy them if it did so._ explains PATER.
_Stalemate._
Whump! Going all the way to a crouch to absorb the impact, DaSilva activates his mag-boots and grabs the power-crank.
<< Pater, find out if Farouk or the bridge want this iris left open or closed, and the same for airlock four-one - and see if somebody who's already there can open it for me. >>
_Bridge crew and Security team members are unavailable, doctor DaSilva._ replies PATER. _I would advise closure. Also, airlock four dash one is already open._
<< You got it, Pater. Hey, check with engineering or somebody, couldn't we plug some control lines into these cranks so you could handle them? >>
DaSilva flips through the halfway open valve and starts the closing sequence, then heads for the armory.
"Dr. Yorblin, you called?"
Yorblin, who has arrived only seconds earlier, nods a greeting and waits for a slice of Farouk's attention.
Copyright © 1997, 1998 |