Copyright © 1997, 1998
Last updated on 1/21/98
Khtaliyr Bridge - 05:06:54
One moment Akhouw is fiercely running through the last of the launch command list, and the next he is doubled over as far as his seat restraint harness will allow, his head sharply twisted away from Aiwi's station.
"HLEEEEEEYA!" Aiwi's eyes widen and her dewclaws threaten to tear the fabric covering the armrests of her chair as the bizarre pattern playing back on the meson communicator suddenly spikes to a level severely discouraged by the unit's manufacturer. Several primary circuits blow, and are instantly routed to secondaries. She opens her mouth to protest-- and closes it again, staring at the Sensor inputs.
"My Lord!" Her normally cool voice is replaced by an awed whisper. She looks over at Akhouw, disbelief and fear warring in her eyes. "The Human's stratagem has succeeded...." A tiny smile appears on her lips and she lets out a small, approving purr as she reviews the sensor data, simulataneously calling the Elissa.
<< Bridge! We are reading a massive plasma stream from the starboard stern of the enemy craft, and neutrino emissions are down fifty percent. >>
Akhouw makes no sign of comprehension. Above the muted sounds of the bridge systems, Aiwi can hear a low monotone groan that resonates with the astounding pain that batters against Akhouw. A thin, crimson tinged film oozes over the inner surface of his face shield.
Heedless of any of Aiwi's expostulations, Akhouw reaches up with a fumbling claw and snaps off his helmet, dropping it to the deck with a clatter. His face is twisted into a mask of resistance against the pain, with bloody ears and nose as macabre accents. For several seconds, Akhouw remains a silent figure, motionless except for his heaving chest.
Aiwi had spared only a glance at Akhouw before finishing her reports, his small moan gone missing in her excitement over the sudden defeat of the enemy vessel. When she turns back to him, saying....
"All systems still in readiness for launch, my Lord."
...anything further dies on her lips as she hears the clang of the helm on the deck and sees Akhouw's ravaged face.
"My Lord...?" she begins to fumble with her seat straps. "MY LORD!"
Slowly, he straightens up and wipes the worst of the blood from his nose, eyes once again aware but still reflective of a massive headache. He wearily notes that all is indeed in readiness for launch. In an unsteady growl, he turns to his fearful executive officer. "Request launch permission."
"I refuse, my lord," Aiwi whispers, unstrapping herself. "Even from here I can see you are in no condition to pilot this ship. What has happened?"
Akhouw shakes his mane in genuine anger. "Sit *down*, my lady. Only a mere trifle." He waves her back to her station with increasing firmness, as his ingrained sense of command asserts itself. "Duty first and the explanations can come later, now sit DOWN and stop hovering there!"
Ger, on seeing Nishu's difficulty, immediately moves to close the scant meters separating them. Upon reaching his injured comrade, the count assists him with the helmet and injuries.
The helmet comes off with a bit of fumbling, the task made more difficult by the fact that it is punctured and half-melted on one side. Nishu's cries have given way to moans as Ger finally gets the helmet free. The entire right side of Nishu's face is covered in burns and blisters, with a few charred spots indicating third-degree burns. The right eyelid is swollen and blistered shut, a steady stream of tears trickling down the mangled cheek. The other eye blinks furiously, but something appears wrong with it somehow....
Nishu turns his head towards Ger's voice, heard dimly through the haze of pain. As the Darrian looks away from the mess that the molten plastic has made, he sees that Nishu's left eye darts around without focusing on him or anything else. Between soft moans, his breathing is quick and shallow; he's quite close to going into shock.
"Who's there?"
"It's Ger, Medics are on the way".
"What happened? I can't see... I can't see!" The last is on a rising note of hysteria.
Ger positions himself to stop Nishu from bringing his hands near his face. "It's okay, we're secure, medics are on their way, I'll be right here..."
Heedless of the need to stay at his post, Morgan Grey undoes his straps and clambers out of his chair, eyes wide. His voice is heard on the Emergency Channel: << MEDIC! MEDIC! Fer the luvva-- >>
He stops dead in his tracks, seeing the dead eyes of Dan Silvmane staring back at him from Station Eight. << Dan...? Oh Lord God Jesus Christ Almighty.... >> He clamps his mouth tight shut, and turns away, and then sees the blood pouring down Hur'Shurvan's flank.
<< Oh man, Shurv, >> he says softly. << Hold still, big guy. Just hold on! Medics'll be here soon. I know it hurts. Hold on! >> He continues the litany and clumsily pats the Virush's broad back, carefully avoiding looking at what used to be his best friend on the Elissa.
_Medical Alert, Trauma Team to the Bridge_
<< Security, hold your positions, bridge is secure... >>
<< PATER confirm bridge is secure. Lucan, get airlock 4-0 open, power it if you have to. >>
_There are no apparent threats on the Bridge at this time. The teleporter has apparently been killed._
Jan continues to drop towards the lock. Lucan is busy using the E-key to get the door open, time burns slowly. Jan flexes his neck and shakes out his hands, "ABC's, ABC's,ABC's..." comes out as a continual mantra.
Vac-door 4-0 opens a crack, enough to let Lucan through. The robot scans the room and hastily moves to Silvmane, extending sensor probes.
The door cranks open far enough to wedge his head and shoulders in. He pulls himself through. What greets his eyes on the other side would cause nightmares for months, but not now.
An invading vargr, or pieces thereof float serenely, surrounded by ever dividing bubbles of blood. The commander, dazed, but trying to keep control. Nishu, howling, Ger trying to calm him. Hur'shurvan's flank with blood oozing and drifting away, Grey crooning to him. Merkle points, Jan's eyes track. Where the pointing stops is what once might have been Silvmane.
<< Med Team, I've got four wounded, at least one critical, one serious, more info to follow. Tabor standby to receive one virushi. Dulinor standby to receive one critical human >>
_Standing by_
With an effort, Boris breaks out of a state of glazed horror, and stumbles toward Yorblin.
Stuttering at first, he blurts << Wh-what sh-should I do first? >>
With the human in the lead, the three surviving invaders grab their weapons and throw themselves back out into the Cargo Bay once more, leaving the charge on vac-door 4-2 unfinished and undetonated.
With an effort, 'Vouf grasps the arm of his chair with his left hand and literally PUSHES himself out of his fetal curl to sit upright. His right hand, the one that held the gun, is clutched uselessly to his chest. Behind the visor, his eyes are burning with pain, madness, and utter hate.
Singleminded concentration can accomplish much. It can solve the mysteries of the Universe, unlock the secrets of the Ancients. In the hands of someone like Dr. Morton Limner it can work seeming miracles.
It can also cost lives.
Limner's whole attention has been on getting his `engine killer' primed and ready, and then firing it and seeing the results, making mental notes of how long it took, just like a well run lab experiment.
On the main holodisplay, banks of controls behind the Nikaido Captain's Chair go red, and the lights flicker. Stamerra looks about him wildly. << What the--? >>
Just offscreen, all on the Bridge hear a panicked voice cry, << Captain, the starboard Power Plant has just scrammed! We're on fifty percent power! Attempting warm start.... >>
'Vouf sags against one arm of the Captain's chair, shaking his head as if to clear it. One fumbling hand finds the commo switch. His voice is a ragged scream, the voice of a wounded animal.
<< Security, hold your positions, Bridge is secure! LIMNER! I don't PAY you for HALF-MIRACLES! >>
He turns to face Stamerra, his mad eyes obscured by his helmet visor.
<< HIT IT AGAIN!! >>
The fuzzy, elongated neutrino source resolves itself into a smaller, point source-- one of the fusion reactors is now clearly seen without obscurement by the other. A tiny twist of the knob, the meson stream drifts to the right....
"There goes the other one," Aiwi breathes, shaking her head in respect and not a little sheer disbelief. << Bridge, we read another plasma plume from the port side, and neutrino emissions are gone. >>
She pauses and smiles a tiny bit more widely. << Khtaliyr to Igor. Most adequate, Doctor Limner. You will receive a performance review from me --when circumstances permit.... >> There is a soft, purring laugh as she cuts the circuit.
"All systems still in readiness for launch, my Lord."
And now, after adjustments have been made and the target has suddenly dissappeared, Limner becomes all too aware of an insistent warning signal...
Turning to look at the P-1 screen Limner is appalled at the record displaying the last few, precious seconds. Massive spikes, suddenly cut off, with the echos charateristic of an assisted teleport, and then a mental wave of killing intensity, and other activity that he can't completely understand at first glance.
"IGOR! Can you show me the Elissa's Bridge?"
_Affimative. They are currently transmitting from a Bridge camera, with audio_
"Display, main screen!"
The scene is, at first glance, deceptively normal. No fires rage, no fallen supports, no massive damage shows. The door is slowly opening to reveal the outline of a Medbot coming onto the Bridge. Then the sound strikes at Limner like a fist, and his Medical training picks out the laser burns, the scars, the ravaged body lying on the floor, and the twitching muscles of the Captain. Trained eyes show him what his heart cannot yet accept. His friends, hurt, in at least one case perhaps dead.
"Oh My God"
<< MEDIC! MEDIC! Fer the luvva-- >>
Alliara releases the chair she's been holding to and flics on the commdot.
<< Speaker on Emergency. This is Niigurd. Identify yourself and your location immediately! Repeat, this is Niigurd, in crew lounge. Identify yourself! >>
After a pause of about ten seconds, Alliara hears, << Uhm, Alliara, it's Morgan Grey. I'm on the Bridge. You and Doc Tabor better get ready, we're gonna be bringing you back some wounded pretty soon. Shurv's had a big hole shot in him, and Nishu's taken a hit to the face, and I think Dan's dead.... >>
Lights cut out in the image on the holo, and are replaced by red emergency lighting, a bizarre parody of what happened on the Elissa's Bridge a few minutes before. The limp, whimpering body of the white-furred Vargr gently rises from the deck. Stamerra stares wide-eyed at Bhyarrvouf as he reaches for his seat straps.
<< How...what...? >>
'Vouf stabs an accusing finger at the image. << THAT'S fucked you, you greasy fat SHITWIPE!! >> He grins hideously. << Now let's see how YOU like a snootful of ordnance while you're HELPLESS! >> He reaches for the commlink to the Khtlaiyr and the other riders....
Stamerra leans forward and growls, << I don't know who you are, or how you did this. But I'm going to REMEMBER you. You AND your filthy ship! You can't hide behind Event Horizon forever... and when you come out, ohh, >> his voice drops to a whisper, << What I'M gonna do to YOU.... >>
<< Not in THIS life, pinkstink, >> 'Vouf croons in a sickly-sweet voice. << You're going to be scrap metal and photons in a minute. >> He flicks the switch. << Bridge to Khtaliyr, all riders-- >>
Stamerra makes a sharp gesture to someone out of range, and the holo suddenly dissolves in static. The holo instantly resets itself to show the external view from the suriving probe hiding at the edge of the Elissa's shadow. The enemy ship is surrounded by a lambent purple flame, which engulfs it, sears into painful brightness, and then is gone.
_The enemy craft no longer registers on any of my sensors,_ PATER reports. _It displayed a visual effect consistent with jump transition concurrent with its disappearance._
'Vouf pauses a moment in surprise, then finishes his sentence. << Abort launch sequence and stand by. They've gotten away on us. >> He eases himself back into his chair, undoing and flipping up his visor to rub his reddened eyes and wipe the blood and foam from his nostrils and mouth.
<< fe >>, Goughzar slumps a moment, the adrenaline shakes overcoming him for a moment.
"Paladin, Initiate full passive scans of the area, specifically forward and aft down this bhasto tube."
_I am picking up broadcast amplitude modulated signals of some sort. Attempting to isolate...._
Touching the controls to reconfigure back to a normal operations mode from a combat mode, Zar also touches the pads that will refill the interior with a breathable atmosphere.
Christian stares at the vacant space on the tactical HUD with dawning comprehension... "goddamn sonofabitches" is his fervent comment. He keys the commo, his voice still badly stressed. << Elissa, aye... >>
Seeing that she's out of her depth, Munro backs away and collects the gear to modify the E-tool. Urgency climbing ever higher in her mind.
<< Aaron, are you all right? Can you work with me on the E-tool?. It'll go faster if you can. >>
Aaron ignores her, staggering unevenly in his magnetic boots over to where Aolrkhea' is removing the Phin's helmet. << Doejin? DOEJIN! ANSWER ME, GOD DAMN IT! >> His voice is half-hysterical.
Murno finds a sheltered spot and clamps her mag boots to deck. She bends over her work, trying to block out the image of an injured comrade. She works as quickly as her gauntleted hands allowed but slow enough to allow no room for error.
Pushing rudely past Aolrkhea', Aaron kneels by the Phin. One hand flips up his visor; his handsome face is streaked with blood and tears, and his mustache and chin are gory red. He grabs Doejin in an awkward hug and begins to sob quietly, resting his cheek next to the Phin's blowhole.
Aolrkhea' stoically ignores the jostling: it's mild compared to an uncontrollable Aslan. Preparing an O2 spray, she pops off the applicator and fires the dosage simultaneously into both nose and blowhole.
Doejin appears to begin recovering as the eyes appear to register the surroundings and recognition creeps into the expression.
<< Aaron...*Aaron!*...*AARON!!* >>
Aaron sits up, a sudden smile creasing his face. "He's going to be all right," he says. "Thank the Gods!"
Firmly grasping his face 'Khea pries open Doejin's mouth and peers inside. Satisfied, she shoves a medi-wipe into his hand and turns the scanner on him.
Doejin appears to begin recovering as the eyes appear to register the surroundings and recognition creeps into the expression.
haut-Frieder turns to Munro, acknowledging her attempts to get his attention. Munro looks him in the eye, putting all the conviction and strength she can in her voice.
<< Aaron. There are others who need your help. You are just getting in Aolrkhea's way. Get over here and help save the *rest* of your friends. >>
haut-Frieder gives a quick nod, wiping the blood from his nose and mouth with the back of a hand as he moves to help her. "My apologies for my outburst, Mynheer Munro. I was so very worried about Doejin...." He flips his visor back down and seals in, then bends to help Munro, leaving Doejin to 'Khea's ministrations.
Bending over her work, Munro mumbles under her breath, "I still am."
Doejin accepts the prodding and shortly after, "I am recovering, thank you. It does not seem that I have any permanent injuries." As this is said, Doejin starts recovering his orientation and bringing the waldos to the proper position.
Aolrkhea' is puzzled by the readings, symptoms, and recovery of both victims. She is reluctant to release Doejin, but he appears normal.
"Please, we have tasks to complete. Let us continue." And Doejin starts to continue with his assistance to Munro. But he stops, turns to Khea and says, "Thank you for your kind ministrations, *whistle, click*." For some reason the last phrase isn't translated.
"You are welcome." Aolrkhea' grumbles, frustrated at her diagnosis. "I will want to see both of you in sickbay later." She drifts clear, monitoring Aaron and Doejin for any motor skill impairment.
<< Aye, >> Aaron says softly over his shoulder, not looking up from his work.
Doejin continues his tasks though it is obvious that his demeanor is a tad subdued now.
Aolrkhea' saves the readings in her med scanner for future analysis and pockets the device. Observing the others working smoothly on the remote control, she heads back to her assignment.
Accessing the emergency rescue equipment in the wall, her lips purse together at a package label. She re-reads it aloud to the other engineers, "Ball comma Rescue, One meter spherical. Who were these things designed for? It is necessary to buffer a 3 meter by 3 meter corner. Has anyone ever tried to inflate this type of rescue ball to over 2 meters in diameter? There are also 2 bubble type vacc suits in here."
<< The rescue balls won't expand larger than 2 meters, >> Aaron mutters under his breath as he works with the E-tool. << They're designed not to. If we tie down, hopefully we won't need much padding.... >>
Configurations of overinflated bubble suits tied around overinflat- ed balls for padding vanish like the balloons of Aslan etiquette training. A tooth escapes pursed lips as Aolrkhea' packs the rescue equipment back into the wall panel and drifts back to the corner.
Murno finds a sheltered spot and clamps her mag boots to deck. She bends over her work, trying to block out the image of an injured comrade. She works as quickly as her gauntleted hands allowed but slow enough to allow no room for error.
"You make a mistake. Sometimes you live, at least once you'll die. Sometimes others die..."
These words from an old, long dead, teacher came back to haunt Zben. He'd made a mistake. Didn't matter that others had as well. He'd have to live with his part of it. But for now it was best to just not make any more!
With the disappearance of the Nikaido came the cessation of its ECM jamming. Reflexively he cuts out the Elissa's jamming, saving power they'd need until the Engineers could get the Mains on line. Engineers.... "Shit!" A glance at the Captain shows closed eyes, ragged breathing. Ger is struggleing to help Nishu. Zben sets up a wide band radio transmission, and is about to key it, when he stops. `No mistakes, not this time'. Letting out a raggedly held breath he didn't know he was holding he touches another control, tapping into the Captains priority channel.
<< Bhyarrvouf, Captain, we still have raiders on board, our people are still in danger. Permission to request surrender from the remaining pirates? >>
In zero-gee tears form lenses over the eyes. Zben is not seeing very well right now.
'Vouf's voice is that hideous, icy whisper that no one has heard since the Kingfisher Incident. "Blaine, get that jamming wall back UP, and LEAVE it up!" He waits until Zben complies, and continues in an angry hiss, "We've got people on the other side of a wall from those hostiles, and they're not observing radio silence! Or had you forgotten that?"
Vouf's voice snaps Zben out of his introspection. `Damn, I Must be getting old!'
One hand jabs the jamming back into full operation, while the other hand is calling up a scan of he last 10 seconds of commo activity.
"Aye, Sir! Jamming On, Sir!" He continue in a quieter tone. "Sorry, Captain."
<< Sorry? >> 'Vouf's tone is sarcastic, but he doesn't say anything else. << Drop jamming ONLY in Cargo Bay Two and route me in on their carrier. >>
The board comes to life with a fading crackle of the jamming being lowered. << This is the Captain of the Elissa, >> 'Vouf says. << Your comms are jammed, your buddies and your boarding craft are all wiped out and your ship has abandoned you. Pitch weapons overboard and surrender. >> He flicks off the link. << Jamming back up, Zben. >>
J.J. reaches up slowly, painfully and opens his faceplate. Rigo can see that blood had been pouring from both of J.J.'s nostrils. J.J. reaches in with a gloved hand and wipes futilely at his nose, just managing to smear the blood all over his face. "Thanks, Rigo, uh... I think I am going to be OK. Shit, it feels like I got hit by a runaway Verushi." Rigo can see the beginnings of a feable smile. "I should be fine in a couple of seconds. Do you think that you can help get me to my feet and help me find that ARL, by then I should be good to go." With that J.J. tries to start to get to his feet.
<< Boris, if you can get back to your station, or where ever you can do your job, get this ship back on line >>, Jan says gently, << I'll take care of Dan and the rest of the injured >>.
Lucan is already feeding data to Jan's HUD from his rapid assesment of Silvmane. A massive piercing abdominal wound nearly divides the body. The energy involved did not completely sear shut the aorta. All of Silvmane's blood now floats in his gut. His heart beats rapidly, furiously attempting to push fluid that isn't there.
Jan is already turning to the next patient. << Medline, Lucan, 'cuff 'em >>
With that, Lucan applies what appears to be a hightech blood pressure cuff to Silvmane's neck. A "vampire cuff", it maintains the perfusion of the brain, while inducing a deep coma. A holding tactic for injuries so severe that a major trauma center may not be able to effect a save.
Since the disaster on the Elissa's Bridge, Dr. Morton Limner has been keeping a low profile. He *knows*, intellectually, that he probably couldn't have prevented the attack, but that doesn't help. HE was the one with the tools to detect just such psionic attacks, but the tools have let him down. And, since he MADE the tools, well...
So, for the next few eternal minutes his attention is glued to the psionic detector, noting even the smallest of changes, tracking via comm-channels the movement of the invaders, adjusting to maximize their coverage. One portion of his brain is working on a different level, however, setting up theories, knocking them down, revising them, and so on. At one point he calls back the scan of the few seconds prior to the attack and studies it. Those few still living who know Limner well would recognize this posture, this intensity, and would realize that the inevitable outcome will disrupt the scientific community for some time to come....
One communication message intrudes deeply into his concentration;
<< Medline, DaSilva, this is Jan, I'm going to be sending one male human down to sickbay with 9% partial thickness burns and 1% full thickness burns, all suffered on the face and neck. Has involvement of eyes and mucosa. Standby where you're at until I clear here and join you, then my friend you're off to surgery. General Channel... >>
He grimmaces, but keeps his attention on the detector.
As she gets up, the Bridge echoes with 'Vouf's orders to abort launch. Aiwi's eartips flick nervously as she hears that the Captain's voice is not much firmer than Akhouw's....
"I will refrain from pointing out that I am sworn to prevent you from launching in a condition of medical unfitness, my lord--"
His eyes fixed upon the Nikaido, Akhouw instantly notes the purple flame flash about the enemy craft. His muscles bulge against the restraint straps, which, being constructed to Aslan standards, withstand the sudden force. Rising up in his seat, he roars at the unknown barbarians as the Nikaido flees into nothingness.
"COWARDS! LANDLESS, LYING, MEWLING CUBS! BARBARIANS! *YA'YUIST!*" A dewclaw scores into the right armrest. "HEAR THE BLOOD OATH OF MY CLAN! BEWARE OUR NEXT ENCOUNTER!" The last is accompanied by a choice selection of traditional curses, each more rich and horrifying than the last. His boiling outrage abates and Akhouw withdraws into seething control, nearly unaware of his remarkable lapse of control.
Aiwi's ears flick forward sharply and she drinks in every detail, much in the same way as he had that day she had bowled the Captain over.
His voice subsides to a low, aggravated growl and a small holo of a deeply angry Aslan glows into existence on the Elissa Bridge. << Khtaliyr to Elissa. Captain, due to tactical situation, request permission to launch and take station ahead. Other surprises may yet be skulking in the shadows here. Recommend Aurora stand-by aboard starboard boarding site and Paladin/Ace aboard aft boarding site. Do you concur? >>
The holo image from the Command chair causes Aiwi to suck in her breath sharply. The Captain's faceplate is flipped up and back, revealing a mask of blood and rabid foam, bloodshot eyes barely focusing. << I do NOT, Commander. You will maintain constant vigilance for future threats from where you are right NOW, and you will launch on my orders and ONLY then. We can't afford to lose another set of core clamps unless we have to; one more blowout and we won't be able to return all ships to berth. Notify me if anything ELSE shows up. Bridge out. >>
Akhouw sinks back into the command chair with a predatory growl, then a snort. He turns to Aiwi. "You may abate your concerns, my lady. Duty confines us at present." He eyes her, as if daring her to continue her fruitless attempt as dissuasion. He pivots his chair and reaches for the small 'fresher mini-station. As he continues, he begins the slow process of clean-up with a small cloth.
"My concerns will abate AFTER I have examined you, my lord," Aiwi says stiffly, but returns to her seat.
Akhouw touches the controls, and the bridge lighting becomes more subdued. Studiously observing the tactical readouts and status panels, he glances sidelong at Aiwi. "Unfortunately, my lady, my components are not made from metals and synthetics..." His tail flicks with a jaunty air as he delivers this deft joke.
"A pity, as it would make repairs quicker and less fractious," Aiwi returns tartly.
Akhouw barks with restrained mirth. "Oh, indeed, Aiwiheikahaih..." Snorting gleefully to himself, he savors her acid reply with all the delight of a verbal gourmet.
Tending the injured on the bridge, Dr. Yorblin directs his charges.
<< Lucan, check on the virushi...I'll check the human injured >>
_Yes, Doctor_ Lucan glides over to Hur'Shurvan and asks, _Where does it hurt?_
<< Where he's BLEEDING, you idiot scrapheap! >> Grey yells.
<< Patience, Morgan, >> Shurv whispers. << Lucan, I have been struck in the right flank, as you can see, but I do not have any injuries elsewhere that I know of. >>
Lucan quickly separates the torn fabric of the suit and examines the wound. _Partially cauterized laser burn with associated radiative damage. Localized to muscle groups and overlying dermal layers. Indication: local anaesthesia and treatment of vascular damage followed by reversible wound-seal and restoration of protective gear integrity pending examination by ranking physician_
Without preamble, Lucan says _This may sting at first_ and jabs a small needle into Shurv's flank near the wound. Shurv hisses again, then breathes easier.
<< The pain is gone. In fact, that portion of my flank feels quite numb. >>
_You must take care not to overexert yourself until you are examined by a physician_ Lucan cleans the wound gently and begins to seal it shut. _The lack of pain prevents neural feedback that helps the brain avoid straining the wound through excessive motion_
<< I understand, >> Shurv pants. << I shall remain at my post. >>
<< Kakh right you will, >> 'Vouf mutters from the Captain's chair.
Yorblin bends close to Neriika at the smoking nav station.
<< Nishu, this is Jan, what hurts the most? >>
"... face feels like it's on fire..." Nishu gasps.
<< I'm going to give you something to kill the pain and take the edge off, then I'm going to let Lucan tow you down to the sickbay. OK? >>
With that Jan pierces the selfsealing vaccsuit with a small hypo that injects stadol, followed by a shot of revdun. Soon Nishu feels the pain fade, but not completely disappear. The part that remains, he just doesn't care about anymore.
Nishu relaxes visibly as the drug spreads quickly through his system in zero-g. In just a few moments he feels 'comfortably numb', and even a little giddy. He turns his head towards Ger, who still floats nearby.
"Thanks," he mumbles to the darkness. "Guess I misjudged you, Ger... you're not a cold-blooded... son-of-a ... after all..."
And with that, Nishu slips into blissful unconsciousness.
_Ready to tow subject Neriika to Sickbay. Subject Hur'Shurvan is stabilized and appears functional_ Lucan reports.
The medscanner shows a racing heartbeat and elevated blood pressure, both of which are settling back to normal as Rigo watches....
Rigo turns Horne's body until its feet touches the deck then releases it. "Just a moment," he says. "I don't know much about free-fall fighting, but I _do_ know that you don't want to close up your faceplate while that nose is still bleeding. Wait here."
Rigo makes a move to open the Armoury's first-aid cabinet, but pauses as he sees his gauntleted hands. "Hang on," he says. "You can do an amazing lot with these gloves on, but they weren't designed to let anybody stuff small cotton balls up people's noses." With that remark he removes the gauntlet on his right hand, attaches it to his belt and opens the first-aid cabinet. Moments later he turns towards Horne. "Hold still," he says. This won't take long. Ordinarily I'd wash your face first, but I don't know how much time we have."
After having treated Horne's nosebleed Rigo takes a last glance at the readouts and then detatches his med-scanner. "Well, it looks like you're OK, " he says, "but after this is over you'd better have one of the fleshpatchers have a look at you. What happened?"
J.J. speaks after a slight pause. "Don't worry, I will have a doc look at me after the shooting stops. I'm not sure exactly what happened. I have seen things like this during the war, Zho Shock Troops. Let's hope that is not the case cause if it is, alot of us are going to die very painfully. Anyway, we can talk about it later, after this ends. I just hope that what happened to me is the worst thing that has happened, to anyone else. I just have a bad feeling that there people worse off than me." With that he closes his faceplate and starts working with the ARL, just in case company comes a'callin'.
Back at his station, composure restored, but shaky, Boris shifts his Life Support display to a corner, and pulls up displays on the Elissa's major engineering systems.
Looking around, he sees Morgan Grey, the only visibly unhurt Engineer, and he looks busy with their injured friends.
Tersely << Grey. Are you sticking around? >>
<< Hum? >> Grey looks up, and seems to focus suddenly. << Shit! Shitshitshit! Thanks, Boris. Shurv, the docs are here, you'll be okay. I gotta get back to my station.... >> He sits back down and straps in. << Damage Control reports status unchanged. We still have eighteen hostiles in the aft section of Deck Three, and it looks like there are no further-- >>
Christian sighs and leans back against the firm support of the pilot's couch. Overall damage was mercifully low, the jump drive being the significant casualty, but that was not much loss until we find out where *HERE* is, thought Christian. Cross-wiring and creative jury-rigs could only take the Aurora so far, and he already was looking forward to the repair work. Yolanda Munro suddenly comes to mind. Christian muses on her jump drive repair expertise for only a moment before reality intrudes with vagely menacing possibilities that she may be facing... He shakes his head to clear his mind of such profitless speculation.
Glancing at the tactical holo, he notes the ready Khtaliyr "atop" the Elissa and the Paladin lurking close by. A gentle nudge of the thruster control slides the Aurora underneath the ventral surface of the tender as it smoothly assumes a watchful position just below and behind the aft portion of the Elissa. "Moira, be a dear and keep an eye out for long range communications or EMS signals, okay?"
_Yes, sir._ Moira begins this necessary but tiresome task, pausing for a few milliseconds only to establish/verify data links with the other ships.
As the unknown broadcast signal intrudes into the quiet ether, a moment passes before this unexpected item registers in his busy brain. "Hmmm... what?" He calls up the communications holodyne and observes the technical data as he listens, his features suffused with curious concern. Another thought occurs to Christian and he taps the holodyne. << Hey, Zben.. >> he says quietly << ..can you give me a casualty sitrep, and keep me updated? >>
The Elissa rumbles with another distant explosion.
<< DAMN! >> Grey's voice is exasperated and fearful at the same time. << Cap'n, they've blown the valves to Deck 4! The upper Jump Drive Deck is depressurizing! >>
_Confirm explosive decompression of Jump Drive compartment, Deck 4,_ PATER adds._
Bhyarrvouf just smiles. << So far so good. Engineering, stand ready; when they blow Main Engineering Control, THAT'S when you'll make our move. In the meantime, sit tight. >>
Vouf's voice echos within Munro's head. She works on modifying the E-tool, concentrating on functionality without neatness. Snip, strip, and a drop of fiber-optic glue completes one connection after another. Her concentration narrows further. To an outsider, Munro has become the epitome of a robot. Answering questions, guiding haut-Frieder and Doejin, and doing her work with absolute precision and no wasted motion or emotion.
Aaron's hands gradually steady and settle as he goes to work on the other end of the cable, stripping and tinning it and attaching the switch taken from the E-tool itself. He has the switch soldered in place by the time Munro is finished closing the casing again.
<< Fingers clear, Mynheer Munro, >> he says, and flicks the switch. The E-tool whirrs merrily for a moment, then stops as he switches it off. A quick try in the other direction, and Aaron nods. << I think we're ready to attach it and tie ourselves down.... >>
Munro comes out of her fuge, staring at the modified E-Tool. One part of her mind is screaming at her to move while another part simple sits and watches. It is an automatic response to move her fingers out of potential danger. As haut-Frieder tests the connections, Munro literally drags her way back to the here and now. *Lord!* She thinks to herself. *Haven't tranced like that since that run to Daibai. Okay, time to MOVE!*. After the E-tool stops, she calmly picks it up and manuevers it into the door socket, making sure it seats properly. Turning, she follows the others and the cable with a critical eye, making sure the cable does not become entangled in the equipment as the others move the switch to the tie down corner.
No combat surgery or even her recent engineering training has pre- pared her for this. *The slightest error now could easily result in a dishonorable death,* 'Khea growls to herself, identifying tie down points. She attempts to hum a litany to relax the building tension.
Locking down at a position nearest the hatch, she verifies suit pressure, dewclaw seals, and all kits shut but not sealed. Using the webbing from her satchel, she arranges a quick release and then cinches her breasts tightly against the maneuver drive. Her arms are left free to help and direct the other "Engineering Commandos" as they arrive.
Reaching the corner, Munro follows Aolrkhea's directions to tie off on access rungs opposite 'Khea, leaving a clear path for the cable to the door. haut-Frieder wedges into a corner with a pipe bend, and helps Doejin tie down waldoes beside him. A reluctant Thul gives up his position overhead to fit between 'Khea and Doejin.
Making sure everyone is buckled in safely, Munro comm's the bridge. << ECs to bridge. Ready. >>
Now begins the worst part of battle. Waiting...
Aolrkhea's thoughts drift back to an old fantasy of settling down with a landed gentlemale on a quiet ag-world, spending her days performing biological research for the local university.
Munro's communique snaps 'Khea back to reality: clinging to the maneuver drive during explosive decompression, while repelling hostile boarders, all the while outside the Known Universe. She reflects once more on the tranquil alternative.
"Maybe next term."
She turns her head toward the door to hide her wild eyes and enormous smile.
Mac Witfield winces as he hears the aft valves to Deck 4 being blown. << I feel so useless, >> he swears. << I wish there was SOMETHING we could do--we just have to sit here and listen to them blasting all our air awa-- >> His voice cuts off.
<< Air. No, NOT air! That's the problem! Air's not GOOD enough! >> He whirls gently in zero-G to the console and clears the sensor data in a rush, replacing it with a physics datamatrix and a cross-sectional plan of the Elissa. A few seconds of typing, and he yells, << MAAAANFRED! >>
<< WHAT? >> snaps Werner, as he looks over at Mac's station in annoyance. << What are you....huh? >> He pauses. He moves closer to Witfields console, his brows narrowing. << Hmmm... >> Then it dawns on him, and his normally placid, composed face suddenly cracks into a wintry smile. << I'll be *damned*! >> Mac grins at him.
As Abuko, Smythe, and Morser shuffle over to see what all the commotion is about, Werner hits his commdot. << PATER, private channel to the Captain. Sir, this is Manfred Werner. Mister Witfield has an IDEA.... >>
'Vouf says, << Really? And what-- >>
_The three hostiles in cargo bay two have exited the Elissa,_ PATER reports.
<< WHURF?! Hold a sec, Werner! PATER, where'd they go?! >>
_They have exited via the breach in the starboard Cargo Bay door, and are drifting away...correction. They are accelerating away from the Elissa with thruster packs._
<< On screen! >> The display, courtesy of the sensor probe still stationed at the stern of the Elissa, shows three spacesuited figures blasting away from the Elissa. As they fly, they reach behind them and unsling large packages from their PLSS backpacks.
<< Re-entry gear, >> 'Vouf breathes. << That takes guts! Riders, let 'em go."
"Kharrbyegh, get an active missle lock on the targets but DO NOT fire"
_Locked. Shadow of Elissa makes determination of radio source impossible at this time._
Touching the comm pad to open a line to the Elissa bridge, << fe, captain >>.
Vouf switches comm channels again, "Sorry, Manfred. You were saying? >> Werner's answer is inaudible to the others on the Bridge. << Yeah, well, what about it? What-- >> Pause. << He wants to WHAAAAT?! >>
He sits back in chair in total shock for a long moment, then flips up his visor and rubs his eyes, taking a deep breath. "YaFe," he says to no one in particular. "It makes sense!" He flips his visor back down and flicks on the Security channel.
<< Captain to Security. Farouk, I'm borrowing two of your men. Shrike! Hfolraw! This is the Captain. You're to follow Mister Witfield's orders to the letter, is that clear? This is top priority. Bridge out. >>
He switches to the Science channel. << Mac, you've got Shrike and Hfolraw in Cargo Bay Three to help you out. Try not to get'em killed. Good luck! Bridge out. >>
<< Shrike here, wilco. >> comes the reply from the Peltast.
<< Farouk to Bridge. If I may ask, Captain, what is the change in plan? >> asks Lazer, somewhat dryly.
<< Of course you can ask, Major; they're your men, >> 'Vouf grins. << I'll fill you in while Mac is briefing them. >> He flicks to a private channel.
He then sits back in his couch, and says to no one in particular, "Witfield, you sick little monkeyboy."
And then he starts to laugh.
"Hfolraw, you copy that?"
"Affirmative."
<< Pater, tie Hfolraw and myself into Mr. Witfield. Mister Witfield, Shrike here, what's up? >>
Upon seeing the injured Nishu being taken under medical care. Ger pushes off the bloody nav chair and floats back into his own. Clearing the display of bodily fluids that used to belong to the intruder, he is disappointed to see no significant change in the readouts...
Jan watches with some satisfaction as Nishu is towed down to the sickbay in Lucan's gentle graspers. Only one at death's door after what could've been a real shoot 'em up.
He glances around the room, Dan still in his chair, a life suspended in time, no one else needing his care...except,
<< Captain, quite a bleeder you have with that nose, I believe this is the second time I'll have the opportunity to fix it :-) >>.
'Vouf's head snaps sideways to stare at Jan, and just for an instant he sees the eyes of a wounded wild animal in a trap. Then the look is gone, replaced by weariness and pain. "Thanks, Jan," he says with a rueful smile. "I guess I must look a sight. Just stop the bleeding; I'll clean up later."
With that, Jan quickly applies some gelfoam and xylocaine to the posterior nasopharynx.
<< Should hold you over, I need to get back to work. >>
"Guezkhe," 'Vouf nods with a grin.
<< Lucan, when you have handed over Neriika to Dulinor, return here to get Silvmane. >>
<< _Understood_ >>
With that, Jan flips over to Dan's body and pulls a mylar body bag from his vest.
At his station, Morgan Grey sees the body bag out of the corner of his eye and winces as if struck across the shoulders. A tear forms in his eye and clouds his vision, refusing to run in the zero gravity. << G'bye, Dan, >> he whispers.
<< Shurv, I'll want you seen by Doctor Tabor as soon as we're secure from general quarters. >>
He begins to package Dan's body, trying to keep it in as few a pieces as possible.
<< My injury is under control, Dr. Yorblin >> says Hur'Shurvan, not pausing as he manipulates controls on his panel with three hands simultaneously in final preparation to re-start the power plant. << I will visit Dr. Tabor as soon as opportunity permits. >>
Noticing, finally, that other Engineers are on the Bridge, Boris returns his display to Life Support, with other functions occupying minor positions.
He punches for the latest location of the invaders, to be overlaid on a display of still functional Life Support systems, and prepares what resources are available for hostile action against the pirates.
The invaders, eighteen of them, are standing away from the floor valves leading down to Deck 4 from Deck 3, and are waiting for the last rush of air to leave the huge compartment before descending. By the look of things, that won't be too much longer....
"Kharrbyegh, any response to the passive scans? Analysis? Give me any sort of reflections on the holotank - full spectrum please."
Goughzar slips off his helmet, finally going back to ship's air, and studies the holo-display intently, searching for any other active signs and watching the two figures receding into the distance.
Kharrbyegh is working madly to attempt to pin down the source of the radio signal and make it intelligible, but it is not until a few seconds later, when the Khtaliyr's sensors come on line on the other side of the Elissa, that it gets a lock.
Hur'Shurvan gingerly picks up each leg in turn and with great care re-plants each magnetic sole on the deck. A few streaks down his face are the only indication of what he has just experienced. He returns his attention to the console in front of him, although he also spares a glance for Morgan and manages to give a weak smile in an attempt to reassure the excitable human.
<< Let us concentrate on the jobs we need to do, Morgan. The sooner we are able to get the Elissa's engineering systems under control, the more likely we are to bring this dreadful conflict to an end and prevent further tragedy. >>
"Engage cloak and initiate standard ELINT mode, optimized for starship detection, my lady. Ki'iwar?"
_Yes, Admiral?_
"Run diagnostics on fire control systems and release primary interlock."
_Ka'tai. Executing._
"All boards show white, fire control is under command," Aiwi states.
"Confirm." replies Akhouw. "I have control. Travel lock released and power is online. Targeting and evasive programs are loaded." He looks at the holotank with cool detachment, seeing the lack of data that he expected.
"We can be spaceborne, or perhaps airborne is the better word, at three seconds' notice." She smiles wryly. "According to external sensors, the environment outside does not even qualify as what humans would term a 'dirty vacuum,' my lord. Pressure is in the level-2 to level-3 range; thick enough for a compressor to handle." Her eyes narrow. "And then not even a compressor/respirator! I read 47 points nitrogen, 14 points oxygen, the remaining 3 points a mixture of inert gases, carbon dioxide, and assorted hydrocarbons-- nothing toxic." An eyebrow raises. "Completely breathable by baseline sophonts."
Akhouw's expression mirrors Aiwi's. "Indeed! Another curious place that we have come into... Hmm..." His eyes flick back to his holodynes before returning to muse upon the holotank. "Any indication on the long-range sensors or ELINT/comm?"
"No, not--HOLD!" Aiwi sits upright, then flips a switch. << BRIDGE! Mister Blaine, confirm amplitude-modulated voice-only broadcast incoming at 182.50 Megacycles! >>
Goughzar hits the comm suite of sensors, tracking the lock and trying to define a position. "Kharrbyegh, attempt to triangulate signal and keep active log of all incoming data.
Zar hits the navigation console and starts bringing the Paladin back up to 1G thrust, moving out from the Elissa and the other ships. Sliding slowly away from the shadow of the Elissa, "Kharrbyegh, initiate triangulation with the Elissa and the Khtaliyr.
Even trying as he is to be unobtrusive, Zben turns, just for a second, to stare at the Captain's burst of laugher. Quickly turning back he resumes a `business as usual' demeanor. He's just running a time profile for battery power on the jamming when,
> << BRIDGE! Mister Blaine, confirm amplitude-modulated voice-only > broadcast incoming at 182.50 Megacycles! >>
The tone in Aiwi's voice adds to Zben's reaction. Even as the left hand opens the AM tranceiver and stands ready to aquire the signal, the right hand is cross connecting into the Captain's channel. Bhyarrvouf suddenly hears Aiwi saying << ....odcast incoming at 182.50 Megacycles! >>
Bhyarrvouf's smile vanishes, and he sits up in his chair, ears cocked.
She tunes a dial, and the Khtaliyr's speaker produces harsh static, followed by a desperate, frightened voice. << ...erritos, come IN please! Oh, for-- the jamming's down! ANSWER! This is the Sumag- Otebor calling Event Horizon DazzleShip Cerritos, come in, PLEEASE! >> The voice cracks, and almost but not quite out of range of the microphone, it says, << I think they got them....sweet Lord.... >>
Akhouw snaps to full alert with commendable speed. As Aiwi endeavors to get an audible signal, Akhouw calls up a virtual keyboard, tied in to Ki'iwar. << Obtain signal bearing of radio broadcast on 182.50 M-c. Tie in long-range sensors on best available bearing. Update bearing and continue scan until further notified. Route report to main holotank with continuous update. >> His thick fingers complete their task with ease.
The computer quickly spots a broadcast beacon coming from a bearing "below" the Elissa, in or beyond the ring of glowing clouds. Its direction is well-defined, but range is impossible to estimate without triangulation and knowledge of signal emission strength.
Akhouw notes the information in silence. A quick glance at Aiwi is unnecessary, as the ever efficient female is engaged in an elegant triangulation solution.
Aiwi notes the Paladin's repositioning near the Elissa with approval. When the Paladin is in position, she answers Goughzar's hail. << Khtaliyr stands ready to triangulate, Mister Goughzar. We are receiving your signals clearly. >>
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