- CHAPTER 21 -
- ISS Hopolite, Main Bridge -
Captains Log, Stardate 31948
Preparations to abandon the Hopolite are nearly complete. It is with some trepidation that I abandon my first command, but there is nothing more to be done unless it's during a major stay in the care of a shipyard. While the fact that the Hopolite was lost after only a few days in my care may not show well in my record. It is my hope that the board of inquiry that will inevitably be called will show that I did everything in my power to save my command and my crew. My major current dilemma is just what the Empire was thinking when it decided to start a war with this new alien race.
To the Borg, they are known as Species 8472, and seeing their ship brought memories terrible to the surface. Memories of my time spent as a Borg drone. While linked to the collective, I was exposed to the hive mind. In it I saw the horrible damage Species 8472 had caused to the lead elements of the Borg invasion into fluidic space. Surely the Terran Council has access to the same memories as I do? How else would they know the location of this installation? But if they knew what they would find when it was activated, why did they send so few ships? I fear that the rescuers of 2nd Fleet will need to be rescued before this is all said and done.
"Captain?" P'tel asked.
"What is it Cmdr."
"All systems are now in standby mode, the crew, along with their personal effects, are ready to be transported to the Athena."
"Thank you P'tel, you may notify the Athena that they can begin transport." His words were cut off by a frantic shout from his tactical officer.
"Captain LOOK!"
- Five minutes earlier, in Fluidic Space -
-The battle fleet was assembled, waiting for the few survivors of the Enemy to arrive. They had to return here, for they had no other way to return home. -
On board 24th Fleet's survivor's de facto Flagship, the Akira class ISS Battle Born, a distraught, nearly panicked Captain Bridget Fells paced left and right on her bridge. Never in a million years had she expected to inherit command of the Fleet, if the few maimed survivors that managed to escape with their lives could be called a fleet. Bridget, unlike her crew and the other survivors of 24th Fleet, had to figure out a way to get her hurt units and the crews they held home. While the Battle Born could have made the trip back to the portal within mere seconds, she was purposely limiting the output of her slip drive so that the more seriously hurt of her few companions could keep up. As a result, the trip was taking close to 15 minutes, and with every extra second that ticked by, the chances that their entry point would be discovered and blocked increased.
In its current state, and given the strength of the enemy vessels defenses, the survivors of 24th Fleet wouldn't stand a chance against even a lone enemy ship. Her mind played back the frantic dogfight that had ensued when the demon vessels had interposed with 24th Fleet. Demons they might well be, because they knew where even cloaked vessels were without using any detectable sensors. Demons because their weapons were even more powerful than a Phaser Lance and had a rate of fire comparable to a phaser array. Demons because their ships registered as life forms, yet were powerful enough to shrug off an entire volley of quantum torpedoes and still come at you. Every time a ship had broken free to try and run, no less than three of the alien craft fell upon it. Despite their being slightly larger than an Intrepid, they maneuvered like a fighter and destroyed everything in their path like some malevolent force of nature, unstoppable and implacable.
"Captain," the Battle Born's soot covered chief engineer said, interrupting her dark train of thought. "I have restored power to weapons and shields, but there are still fluctuations in the SIF field, and our hull is maimed pretty badly." Which was an understatement, there was a massive bite clean through the starboard saucer.
"Thank you Mr. Orourke." That in and of itself was an indication of just how deep her shock ran. Normally she would have not even bothered to thank him for a job well done. From across her scorched and broken bridge, through the thinning shroud of smoke that still lingered despite the strained environmental systems best efforts, her helmsman called out.
"Coming up on emergence point ma'am."
"Open an all ships channel."
"Done sir."
"This is the flagship, all ships to go to red alert and divert all available power to shields and impulse drives. We're in no shape to fight anything that might be out there waiting for us, so we'll have to run for it. Good luck and Gods speed. Fells out." The swirling blue cloud like tube of slipstream faded rapidly as the hum of the slip drive quieted. Soon the view reverted to the sickly green tinge that was normal space here. The ships formed up and began their run for the portal. Suddenly the deadly beams of the alien vessels began to lace out of the shrouding green mists, orange lances of destruction striking at the already damaged Imperial vessels. But they were attacking from long range and their accuracy suffered. They only killed three Intrepids and a Saber in their first volley.
One Intrepid was speared through her middle, the beam punching through her starting with just below her main deflector and not stopping till it blew through the other side. Because she was traveling a high impulse, the beam cut along her centerline like a razor sharp knife. The Intrepid vanished in a flash as the beam finally met her antimatter storage tanks and her slipstream core.
Another Intrepid was struck by two beams coming from nearly opposite directions. They plowed into her and she broke into flaming wreckage as her structural integrity field failed under the massive strain. The third was clipped on her fore primary hull, pitching the ship violently upward. It died seconds later as a second beam hit it dead aft when the ship was pointed straight up. It shot straight through the middle of the Intrepid before internal explosions claimed what was left. The saber just disintegrated when the beam struck it. By a cruel twist of fate it was the most severely damaged of the surviving vessels, with close to half of its hull gone. It literally had looked like a piece of Swiss cheese, and Bridget Fells was thoroughly amazed that it had still flown at all, let alone kept up with the rest of the survivors. But its valiant struggle was all for not as it died under the fresh assault.
A beam shot out of the green depths of fluidic space, its source still hidden in its swirling embrace. It struck the starboard nacelle of the Battle Born, and even the overloaded shields weren't enough to do more than imperceptibly slow the beams headlong charge. It sheared the nacelle off, leaving a broken stump that leaked plasma like blood in the ship's wake.
On the Battle Born's bridge, the ship shook and its rear lurched to port and up with the force of the impact and ensuing explosion that severed the nacelle pylon. Lighting failed as main power went offline, but it was quickly replaced by backup systems. As the main viewer popped back up, Captain Fells got an eyeful of the swirling teal green Borg portal.
"To slow bas*ards!" she spoke quietly, so even her first officer riding white knuckled in his chair three feet from her wasn't sure she had even spoken. The surviving Akira, Intrepid and twin Sabers staggered through the portal towards the relative safety of the other side. If they could get the portal closed fast enough it might just save their hides.
- ISS Hopolite, Main Bridge -
Captains Log, Stardate 31948
Preparations to abandon the Hopolite are nearly complete. It is with some trepidation that I abandon my first command, but there is nothing more to be done unless it's during a major stay in the care of a shipyard. While the fact that the Hopolite was lost after only a few days in my care may not show well in my record. It is my hope that the board of inquiry that will inevitably be called will show that I did everything in my power to save my command and my crew. My major current dilemma is just what the Empire was thinking when it decided to start a war with this new alien race.
To the Borg, they are known as Species 8472, and seeing their ship brought memories terrible to the surface. Memories of my time spent as a Borg drone. While linked to the collective, I was exposed to the hive mind. In it I saw the horrible damage Species 8472 had caused to the lead elements of the Borg invasion into fluidic space. Surely the Terran Council has access to the same memories as I do? How else would they know the location of this installation? But if they knew what they would find when it was activated, why did they send so few ships? I fear that the rescuers of 2nd Fleet will need to be rescued before this is all said and done.
"Captain?" P'tel asked.
"What is it Cmdr."
"All systems are now in standby mode, the crew, along with their personal effects, are ready to be transported to the Athena."
"Thank you P'tel, you may notify the Athena that they can begin transport." His words were cut off by a frantic shout from his tactical officer.
"Captain LOOK!"
- Five minutes earlier, in Fluidic Space -
-The battle fleet was assembled, waiting for the few survivors of the Enemy to arrive. They had to return here, for they had no other way to return home. -
On board 24th Fleet's survivor's de facto Flagship, the Akira class ISS Battle Born, a distraught, nearly panicked Captain Bridget Fells paced left and right on her bridge. Never in a million years had she expected to inherit command of the Fleet, if the few maimed survivors that managed to escape with their lives could be called a fleet. Bridget, unlike her crew and the other survivors of 24th Fleet, had to figure out a way to get her hurt units and the crews they held home. While the Battle Born could have made the trip back to the portal within mere seconds, she was purposely limiting the output of her slip drive so that the more seriously hurt of her few companions could keep up. As a result, the trip was taking close to 15 minutes, and with every extra second that ticked by, the chances that their entry point would be discovered and blocked increased.
In its current state, and given the strength of the enemy vessels defenses, the survivors of 24th Fleet wouldn't stand a chance against even a lone enemy ship. Her mind played back the frantic dogfight that had ensued when the demon vessels had interposed with 24th Fleet. Demons they might well be, because they knew where even cloaked vessels were without using any detectable sensors. Demons because their weapons were even more powerful than a Phaser Lance and had a rate of fire comparable to a phaser array. Demons because their ships registered as life forms, yet were powerful enough to shrug off an entire volley of quantum torpedoes and still come at you. Every time a ship had broken free to try and run, no less than three of the alien craft fell upon it. Despite their being slightly larger than an Intrepid, they maneuvered like a fighter and destroyed everything in their path like some malevolent force of nature, unstoppable and implacable.
"Captain," the Battle Born's soot covered chief engineer said, interrupting her dark train of thought. "I have restored power to weapons and shields, but there are still fluctuations in the SIF field, and our hull is maimed pretty badly." Which was an understatement, there was a massive bite clean through the starboard saucer.
"Thank you Mr. Orourke." That in and of itself was an indication of just how deep her shock ran. Normally she would have not even bothered to thank him for a job well done. From across her scorched and broken bridge, through the thinning shroud of smoke that still lingered despite the strained environmental systems best efforts, her helmsman called out.
"Coming up on emergence point ma'am."
"Open an all ships channel."
"Done sir."
"This is the flagship, all ships to go to red alert and divert all available power to shields and impulse drives. We're in no shape to fight anything that might be out there waiting for us, so we'll have to run for it. Good luck and Gods speed. Fells out." The swirling blue cloud like tube of slipstream faded rapidly as the hum of the slip drive quieted. Soon the view reverted to the sickly green tinge that was normal space here. The ships formed up and began their run for the portal. Suddenly the deadly beams of the alien vessels began to lace out of the shrouding green mists, orange lances of destruction striking at the already damaged Imperial vessels. But they were attacking from long range and their accuracy suffered. They only killed three Intrepids and a Saber in their first volley.
One Intrepid was speared through her middle, the beam punching through her starting with just below her main deflector and not stopping till it blew through the other side. Because she was traveling a high impulse, the beam cut along her centerline like a razor sharp knife. The Intrepid vanished in a flash as the beam finally met her antimatter storage tanks and her slipstream core.
Another Intrepid was struck by two beams coming from nearly opposite directions. They plowed into her and she broke into flaming wreckage as her structural integrity field failed under the massive strain. The third was clipped on her fore primary hull, pitching the ship violently upward. It died seconds later as a second beam hit it dead aft when the ship was pointed straight up. It shot straight through the middle of the Intrepid before internal explosions claimed what was left. The saber just disintegrated when the beam struck it. By a cruel twist of fate it was the most severely damaged of the surviving vessels, with close to half of its hull gone. It literally had looked like a piece of Swiss cheese, and Bridget Fells was thoroughly amazed that it had still flown at all, let alone kept up with the rest of the survivors. But its valiant struggle was all for not as it died under the fresh assault.
A beam shot out of the green depths of fluidic space, its source still hidden in its swirling embrace. It struck the starboard nacelle of the Battle Born, and even the overloaded shields weren't enough to do more than imperceptibly slow the beams headlong charge. It sheared the nacelle off, leaving a broken stump that leaked plasma like blood in the ship's wake.
On the Battle Born's bridge, the ship shook and its rear lurched to port and up with the force of the impact and ensuing explosion that severed the nacelle pylon. Lighting failed as main power went offline, but it was quickly replaced by backup systems. As the main viewer popped back up, Captain Fells got an eyeful of the swirling teal green Borg portal.
"To slow bas*ards!" she spoke quietly, so even her first officer riding white knuckled in his chair three feet from her wasn't sure she had even spoken. The surviving Akira, Intrepid and twin Sabers staggered through the portal towards the relative safety of the other side. If they could get the portal closed fast enough it might just save their hides.