Discontinuity: Indefatigable
by chaos_eternus
Eleven
"The bridge is clear,"
She smiled with relief, nodding acknowledgement as she rose to her feet, and strode swiftly, nervously into the room.
"How long until we arrive?"
"Mere moments, and fighting still continues throughout the rest of the ship."
"Okay," she sighed, "and our allies need to know which ship we are on."
"That is correct,"
"Should we announce our presence with our guns?"
Tec'on considered this a moment, "We are weakened right now. I would suggest going against the Anubis Ha'tak in this state."
"Then we should turn our guns on the weaker Ha'tak ?"
"Indeed,"
"Then do so," Dukes commanded.
Ewing knew pain, knew it in far more of an intimate manner then he would like. Pain to a certain extent came with life and even more so with service. An increased incidence of pain was an unfortunate and inevitable side-effect of putting yourself into the line of fire in the name of Duty, of Service.
It was a reminder above all else that, for the moment at least, you were still alive.
Right now a part of him wished he wasn't.
That too was normal, the body, the mind didn't like pain, but pain could be overcome to a point and worked through. Had to be worked through, he had a threat to his ship and a threat to his crew to be dealt with.
He would have to see to the assassin, ensure he would not be getting up any time soon, one way or the other, then he would have to make his way to his ship and too his crew.
And he would just have to manage it despite the pain.
Despite having only one functioning arm.
"Honourless dogs!" Mokh glared at the viewscreen, hiding a wince as a B'rel vanished, destroyed in an instant by a salvo from the massive pyramid shaped ship. He had heard tales of such power but he had not believed, more fool him.
Still, the move was smart, destroy the enemies ability to rebuild and repair and you had him on his knees, it was a tactic he had first learned on one of his Fathers rare appearances home.
It was not one he had ever expected to see used against his own people, and he certainly had not expected the sheer boldness of bypassing the bulk of the Empire and going straight for its heart.
It was a move that was almost Klingon in its execution.
He glowered as he saw a crippled Vor'cha throw the only weapon it had left against the shields of the Goa'uld ship, but be destroyed before it could ram, mere debris showering the enemy vessel.
Still, it was large debris; it should certainly have some effect.
Oh, how he wished he could be out there now, fighting and dying like a true Klingon should!
But he couldn't, not now. His responsibility was the shipyard itself and when the enemy closed he would have an opportunity to fight and to die, this was a Klingon shipyard after all and as such, she was armed. Even with the enemy vessels being weakening by the rapidly dwindling defensive fleet, he didn't think he could stop the destruction of his station, stop the loss of this resource to the Empire.
A pity, it would be a failure that would mark his soul for all eternity but at least he could ensure he and all the warriors aboard the station sold their lives dearly, that way they may at least still be allowed into the Halls of the Warriors at Sto'vo'kor.
"A new ship approaches!"
He glanced up and grimaced as a third of the loathsome warships dropped out of the strange hyperspace portals so alien to a culture that relied on warp. There went any chance at all off survival, now there would only be death.
So be it!
The new vessel opened fire and Mokh frowned as the bolts shot straight past a K't'inga , impacting upon the shields of one of its allies. Bad shooting that, it wouldn't save his station though.
A second salvo and he rose slowly from his seat, puzzled, confused and more then a little wary.
"We are being hailed!"
"Who hails us?"
"The new Ha'tak."
It could not be… yet maybe it could.
He sat back down, his finger stabbing angrily at the controls on his chair, then a face appeared on his screen and in that instant, he knew that maybe, just maybe he wouldn't have to die after all.
Not today anyway.
Osiris raged.
How they had done it, she did not know.
No, she did know, they were human, they did it with luck, skill and above all else a resilience and determination that would put the Gods themselves to shame and frequently had.
They were the devils themselves and like all devils, they needed to be killed or brought to heel. The second, dangerous, the first preferable or would be if it wasn't for that fact that they were needed as hosts. True, there were many other species in this place that may do but she wasn't going to risk herself and be the first to try it!
Still, given the vastness of space, they should not have been able to find this place, should not have been able to land undetected, to get into her shipyard…
And above all else, they should not have been able to plant their explosives.
They had been aided, they had to have been.
It was a given that there was a Free Jaffa spy amongst her crew, nowadays, there always was, the hard part was tracking down the rat and she could not afford to get it wrong, she did not have Jaffa to spare.
That rat had cost her too much, all her new construction, some two thousand slaves and another two hundred Jaffa , all wasted.
The rat… or rats would have to die but she would need to find them first and at the same time she needed to find a new hiding place and do something to slow the pursuit.
Perhaps, to use one of her host's phrases, it was time for the kid gloves to come off.
Yes, that had appeal; the alliance against her was being led by the humans, if they were taken out of the game…
Of course, that hadn't worked last time but last time she had only sent two ships. Perhaps it was time to pull out all the stops. When her fleet returned from Klingon space she would evacuate this place and on her way to her new home she would pay the humans a visit personally.
If her pawns hadn't already done the job for her that was.