Chapter 3: Those Who Fight and Run Away
"Why are they chasing us?" LTJG Clark Franks asked, more to fill the unbearable silence than to actually receive an answer. His anxiety became greater and greater as the colossal Jem'Hadar Battleship and two smaller assault ships were quickly closing on the Nightingale, it was almost as if Franks could sense the distance between the two ships by the amount of fear he felt in his belly.
"Either we have something they want, or destroying our two escort ships did not quench their thirst for blood." Rosh replied from the command chair.
The words from the XO did not ease Franks' anxieties in the least. The JG had watched on the Nightingale's sensors as Jem'Hadar ground soldiers quickly and efficiently pushed back the Federation line. They were similarly relentless in space as assault ships had continued to appear in groups of two or three at a time. The Excelsior class escort ships that protected the Nightingale had fought well, but were eventually worn down by the constant attacks. But that was to be expected from them, he reflected. They were a race genetically engineered as warriors. They were not capable of fear, retreat, or mercy.
Rosh checked the console in the arm of his chair. The Battleship was gaining on them. The Nightingale's maximum cruising speed of warp seven was nowhere near enough to outrun their pursuer. Pressing a button in the console and poke into the air, "Lt. Rosh to Engineering."
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Main Engineering was located above and slightly forward of the Nightingale's shuttle bay. Like most spaces not dedicated to medical services, engineering was cramp. It had all the standard equipment found in any ship's Main Engineering, but in half the volume. In a departure from normal Federation starship design, the warp core of the Hippocrates class hospital ship was mounted horizontally beneath the Nightingale's dorsal hull. The dilithium matrix, which was the heart of every warp core, the location of the matter/antimatter reaction, was located in the middle of the space's overhead.
Whenever Matt Hudson was in engineering, he thanked his mother and father for not passing any genes that would have made him taller. At five foot eleven inches, the access hatch to the dilithium crystal assembly was only seven inches above his head.
"Lt. Rosh to Engineering." The XO's voice came over the loud speaker.
"Ensign Hudson here, go ahead sir." The chief engineer replied.
"I need more speed Ensign."
"I can get you point five, point six warp more, but that's it." Hudson began adjusting the antimatter stream, fully dilating the injectors, forcing the maximum amount of antimatter into the core.
"That Jem'Hadar Battleship is making warp nine. We can't outrun them at warp seven point six."
"It's physically impossible to move this ship any faster." Hudson explained. The increased plasma flow began to take effect accelerating the ship and causing it to vibrate slightly as the warp field teetered on instability. "There, we're at flank speed, sir. If we pump anymore plasma into the nacelles the warp field will destabilize."
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Not knowing where else he could go and be of any use, Jordan went to the bridge. As the doors swooshed closed a wave of disillusionment momentarily washed over him. A two man bridge crew, Jordan had a hard time getting over the way spacemanship seemed to be a forgotten step child on this vessel. Although the Nightingale was designed around its medical mission, some design considerations seemed to be directed squarely against the Starfleet officers in charge of keeping the ship spaceworthy.
"Ensign Singer, your inability to return the McCoy from the surface of MN-1375 in a timely manner almost cost us this ship. If we get out of this alive the first thing we will do is discuss your punishment." Franks always had a way of putting things that made Jordan want to punch him. He was sure that his slightly superior officer thought that this sort of belittling displayed a sense of professionalism and appreciation for the chain of command. If that was what was required to be a good junior officer, Jordan hoped that he was a lousy one.
"You weren't there JG, I did what I felt was right. Would you have let those people on the surface die?" Thinking about it now, Jordan hadn't made a choice. There never was any other option in his mind.
"How many died on the USS Calusa so that one runabout full of people could live?" Franks shot back. Jordan could feel himself tensing up. He searched for the words, but he knew that only his fists could talk for him at this point.
"Mister Singer!" Rosh yelled, surprising both of the young officers. "In the future I expect you to dress more appropriately for bridge duty." Looking down at his uniform, Jordan realized the amount of dirt and blood he had become covered in while assisting the wounded personnel on MN-1375. "I suppose I can let it slide this time, considering the circumstances. Please take the port station, and configure the console for tactical sensors."
"Aye, sir." Jordan replied, slipping into the nearby seat. He wondered, had Rosh been repressing a smile? No, of course not, there was nothing Jordan could think of that could possibly have elevated the stoic Andorian's mood in their present situation.
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LCDR Marion was in surgery, as were the other seventy-nine members of the medical staff. The Nightingale could accommodate five hundred patients at a time. There were quarters for four hundred patients, plus one hundred operating and diagnostic tables in sick bay. However, over six hundred people had been extracted from MN-1375. The overflow were placed on the deck between the operating beds, some where even left in the medical holds of the runabouts. They were given stretchers to rest on, and when those ran out extra pillows and sheets out of the medical staff's own quarters were offered. Marion was still proud of his hospital ship, but these extra patients needed to be off loaded to a starbase as quickly as possible.
"Laser scalpel." Marion said putting his hand, palm up, to the side. Nurse Haas placed the requested instrument in the Doctor's hand immediately. Marion lowered the scalpel to the patients flesh, but something in him hesitated as he was about to make the incision. An instant later everything began to shake. "Marion to Lt. Rosh." The annoyed CO said into the air.
"Rosh here." The XO's voice replied.
"Why is the ship shaking Mr. Rosh? It is extraordinarily risky to perform the surgeries our patients need under these conditions." Marion did not even try to mask the irritation in his voice.
"We are being pursued by Dominion warships. The vibrations are coming from our engines being run at maximum warp." The voice coming from the intercom, unlike that of the head surgeon's, showed no emotion.
"Is there anyway we could outrun them without endangering our patients?" Marion said, with the irritation leavening his voice. He had not been aware the ship was under any threat.
"We are not out running them, sir. At our current speed we will be overtaken in seventeen minutes."
Marion put the laser scalpel down and walked over to an information terminal on the wall. "Maybe we could hide somewhere. I've heard of starships hiding in nebulas and things." He called up a star chart of the sector and tried to make sense of the special phenomena depicted on the screen.
"One possibility, sir, but it is doubtful that it will provide a smoother ride." Rosh hesitated for a moment. "Our current course will take us close to the Badlands."
"The Badlands." Marion said. Even though he was not an experienced space fairer, the Doctor knew how hazardous the area could be. Populated by unpredictable plasma storms, the Badlands had become the final destination of more ships than anyone cared to remember. But looking at the star chart, Marion could see no alternatives. He reasoned that the medical care being provided to his patients would not do them any good if the Dominion ships were allowed to destroy the Nightingale. "Yes, that's what we should do. Set course for the Badlands Mr. Rosh. I'll warn the medical staff that operating conditions will not improve."
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"We might have more luck against the Jem'Hadar." Jordan muttered.
"You have a comment Mr. Singer?" Rosh asked.
Jordan thought it was incredible how the hushed remarks people make to themselves so often end up being heard as if they were shouted. The Ensign, his face reddened with embarrassment, turned to face the XO. "Sir, I was just considering the hazards associated with navigating the Badlands. Back at the Academy we got a hold of a Badlands program for the bridge simulator; no one I know was able to successfully complete the simulation." Franks looked back at Jordan with an alarmed expression, but quickly turned back to his console. "I hadn't had my primary flight class yet." Jordan added trying to abate the apparent hopelessness of the situation the ship faced.
"Trust in your training Mr. Franks. We will get through this." Rosh assured the helmsman.
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The Nightingale dropped out of warp as the ship approached the edge of the Badlands. The mass of the glowing orangish pink plasma storms became more defined the closer the vessel approached. The storms formed in layers, between which lied the only navigable portions of the area. The calm sections of space between the layers were narrow, and often columns of plasma between one storm and another would form, relieving differing charges between the energy squalls. Only two types of starfarers ever dared to navigate the Badlands, those who delight in facing death head on, and those who were so desperate to avoid death they chance the plasma storms.
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Chief Reilly stepped into the cramp space allotted to main engineering. Inside he saw Ensign Hudson moving from panel to panel, checking and rechecking systems.
"Stop looking for problems and relax while you still can. I'm sure every one of your consoles will be lighting up brighter than a nova star before long." The Chief said things like that a lot, telling you to relax while reminding you of the difficulties ahead.
"I suppose your right." Hudson replied, returning the panel he was at to its default configuration. "Is there anything I can do for you chief?"
"I actually came up here to see if I could help you out. I saw that all your techs have been commandeered as nurses."
"Chances are I'd have to send them there sooner or later, that medical equipment gets damaged pretty easily."
Reilly chuckled, "Most things do when exposed to fields of plasma or disruptor fire."
"There's a lot of that heading our way. Do you really think we'll make it, Chief?" Hudson almost felt ashamed of his question. He, a Starfleet officer, showing all his uncertainty and doubt to someone he was supposedly outranked.
The chief had seen the look in Hudson's eyes on the face of many crewman and officers before. It was the look of a young man realizing the dangers space actually contained. Reilly even remember a time when the expression probably crossed his own face. "There are some things we can control and some things we can't. But in the past months you've kept this tub running and you've done it well. There is nothing on the ship today that you couldn't have fixed yesterday. Remember your training, and if this is our last underway, we won't go down easy."
Not exactly the optimistic assurance of victory Hudson had been expecting. But some how the Chief's words did provide some comfort. Hudson knew the ships systems inside in out, he could practically build the ship from the ground up without ever looking at a blueprint, and that gave him a degree of control of everything that was about to happen.
A console lit up and began to chirp near the Ensign. He reached out and turned of the warning. "We've entered the Badlands."
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Kizmet had been relieved to be back aboard the Nightingale. Back in sickbay where she would not need to choose between patients, everyone would be treated. The comfort and safety she felt aboard the ship was short lived. Doctor Marion had just informed the medical staff that the Dominion was chasing the Nightingale and that they would attempt to hide inside some turbulent area of space. Kizzy didn't understand celestial phenomena, but she knew her patients were not much safer than they had been.
Regardless of how she felt, she tried to put on a positive exterior. Her patients needed to believe their doctor was confident in their survival and recuperation. Kizzy's fear of enemy ships and these badlands were just somethings she would have to keep to herself. Besides, this was a federation ship with Starfleet officers; surely they knew exactly what to do in times like this.
"Doctor." A weak voice called from a stretcher on the ground. "Doctor, I hear people saying that the Jem'Hadar are following us. Is it true? Are we going to die?" The voice belonged to a very young, very frightened crewman. The boy couldn't have been more than seventeen by Kizmet's estimate. She flipped open her tricorder and knelt down beside him.
"I heard that the ship escaped. That we're hiding in some type of plasma field and the Jem'Hadar will pass right by us." Kizzy told her patient as she scanned him. "As a matter of fact, the Captain of this ship told me himself." She added.
"Really? They're gone?" The crewman lied back on the stretcher and stared up at the ceiling. "I thought we were through this time."
"I'm going to give you something to help you relax. Try to sleep; you're going to be just fine." She said as she searched through a draw of medication.
"Here you are Doctor." A gray skinned man said holding a hypospray out to Kizmet. Kizzy took the instrument noting that is contained the relaxant she was searching for and had been set to the appropriate dosage.
"Thank you." She said after administering the injection, which quickly put the crewman to sleep. The gray skinned man looked familiar, but Kizzy she couldn't recall ever seeing a member of his species before. "Do I know you?"
"We met briefly while you were putting my stomach back together. For which I am in your debt." The man explained.
"The Nevlian?" Kizzy held up the hyposray. "This is exactly what I was looking for, right down to the dosage. Are you sure you're in intelligence and not medicine?"
"Quite sure, but I did study biochemistry for a time. The knowledge comes in useful in my particular line of work. And please, call me Esco." Esco smiled as if he was laughing at a private joke.
"Doctor Kizmet." Kizzy said. She still felt that there was something different about Esco from the first time she had seen him, besides the fact he was now fully healed. It then dawned on her, "I could have sworn your skin was lighter."
"It was. I sometimes forget that dynamic pigmentation is not a trait shared by many outside my race. When I don't think about it I usually take on the hue of my surroundings." Esco waved his hand in the direction of the bulkhead.
"Dynamic pigmentation?" Before Kizmet finished the question the Nevlian's grayish skin, which was the color of the sickbay's walls, warmed into a darkly tanned flesh that matched her own.
"Does this hue provide better fit your expectations?"
"You can will your skin to a desired color? You have far surpassed any expectations I may have had." Kizzy was immensely interested in Esco out of a purely professional curiosity. "You'll have to excuse me now, I must return to my patients."
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"Jem'Hadar Assault ships closing on our position." Jordan Reported.
"The Battleship?" Rosh inquired.
Jordan shook his head. "Sensors aren't so good in here, but it looks like the Battleship is remaining outside the plasma storms."
Rosh's gamble had worked to a degree. The Nightingale had no hope against a Jem'Hadar Battleship, however he now estimated that they could survive for at least two minutes after coming into weapons range of the assault ships. Two minutes plus whatever time he could keep the ship ahead of their pursuers, that was the time afforded Rosh to figure out how a hospital ship could defeat two Dominion warships. At present there was only one, ineffectual, course of action that came to his mind. "Mr. Singer, charge phasers."
Only feet forward of Rosh Lieutenant Junior Grade Franks was in disbelief at what he was doing. No one had ever described the Nightingale as graceful, and the reasons for this lack of praise were utterly apparent to the JG at helm. Plasma columns were forming at random all around the Nightingale. Even at half impulse it took all of Franks' concentration to keep the ship clear of the volatile eruptions.
"They're closing fast. Franks you have to increase speed to full impulse." Jordan urged from the port station.
"The plasma columns are forming to fast. The ship can't respond quickly enough at that speed." Franks protested.
Jordan studied the sensor read out in front of him. "Look, there's a swirling in the plasma field before a column forms. Look for them and it'll give you a little more time to respond."
Rosh consulted his console. Even at full impulse the Assault ships would overtake them, but it would give them time, precious time. "Do it Lieutenant, engines to full."
"Aye, sir." Franks hesitated for a moment with his hand over the control. He took a breath and increased the Nightingale's velocity to full impulse. The speed did not come immediately, but rather gradually grew. As it did the turbulence the ship was experiencing grew with it. Every time differing charge was relieved from the formation of a plasma column, the energy disturbance surrounding the phenomena would hit the shields of the Nightingale and send tremors through the ship. Franks tried to give each column a wide berth, but at full impulse the ship was passing the disturbances with increasing frequency and decreasing distance.
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The tremors in sickbay had increased significantly. Logic would indicate that one of to things had transpired: the ship had entered an area of more intense plasma storms, or the ship has increased its velocity. Sovek presumed the cause of the tremors to be the latter; it seemed the more logical of the two considering the ship was being perused.
"Sublight engines are at full." Sovek's nurse commented, confirming the Doctor's suspicions. The engineering crewman who was attempting to lend a hand as medical assistant almost hindered Sovek more than he helped. Crewman Adkins answered every request Sovek had for an instrument with 'what does that one look like?', and even with an accurate description the technician managed to provide the Vulcan with the wrong tool. Sovek would have dismissed him entirely if not for the one advantage he did bring. The medical systems integrated with ships power had already begun to periodically fail under the influence of the Badlands. However Crewman Adkin's intimate knowledge of the systems and quick reaction to malfunctions had enabled Sovek to work nearly uninterrupted since he had returned from the surface of MN-1375.
"Osteo-regenerator." Sovek commanded Crewman Adkins.
Adkins studied the tray of instruments while his hand hovered a short distance above the medical tools. He finally decided on one and put it in Soveck's hand.
"Osteo-regenerator." Soveck repeated.
"Uh… Oh yeah, this is the one." The engineering technician took back the instrument he had previously handed the Vulcan and replaced it with the correct one. With the osteo-regenerator in hand, Sovek returned to the procedure at hand.
Behind the Vulcan two nurses had just laid a new patient on the operating table. The doctor in charge of that particular operating space was busy elsewhere. The new patient reached for the nurses that were leaving to attend to their next patient. "No, don't leave." He cried, but the nurses did not hear him. His eyes darted about until they found Doctor Sovek. The man stretched out his arm and was able to touch the Vulcan's back. "Please, help me."
"Each patient has been evaluated and is being attended to by their need." Sovek replied, not turning away from his work.
The patient grasped the fabric of Sovek's clothes. "I heard what they said, the Jem'Hadar, they're after us. I have to get out of here. You need to make me better so I can get out of here." The patient's voice became more frantic with each word.
Sovek paused in his work and turned towards the frightened patient. "Calm yourself. You will be treated, but you must wait while we attend to the higher priority patients." The practice Sovek had run on Vulcan was always filled with much more orderly patients; the patients here were so… emotional.
"I have to get out of here now! You have to help me!" The man was becoming hysterical.
As Sovek looked down at the man he could not help but think of the calmness that noble Vulcan faced death on the surface of MN-1375. Sovek raised up his hand, pressing his fingers together and making it flat. It came down hard across the man's face. The smack sounded like a shot, and all went silent. Everyone in the vicinity turned and stared, including the man who now rubbed his cheek and stared in disbelief. "Better men than you have died waiting for treatment today, and they did so silently!" Even Sovek was surprised at his tone. He collected himself and spoke again. "A doctor will be with you shortly, I assure you." The Vulcan then returned the patient he was currently treating.
"Hypospray." Sovek said to Crewman Adkins, extending his hand to receive the instrument. Adkins simply stared in bewilderment at the Vulcan doctor. "Hypospray." Sovek said again. Adkins shook his head and turned to the instrument tray. He placed the hypospray in the doctor's hand, still not saying anything. Sovek turned back to his patient. 'It was logical,' the Vulcan thought. 'He needed to be silenced and he was. My actions were logical.'
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The Jem'Hadar Assault ships drew ever nearer. As the distance between the Nightingale and its pursuers shrank the lead Dominion vessel steadied its course before a blinding blue beam leapt forth from its forward disrupter and connected with the hospital ship's starboard stern.
"Shields down to eighty percent." Jordan reported to Rosh.
"Two minutes." Rosh muttered to himself. "Return fire." The Andorian then commanded.
Jordan confirmed the positive target lock and fired both the dorsal and ventral phaser banks directly aft. His shots hit the center lead assault ship's bow. "Direct hit, the lead ship's shields are at ninety-eight percent." Jordan almost didn't believe the number when he said it. They might as well be throwing rocks at the Jem'Hadar, it would do about the same amount of damage.
"Mr. Franks, maneuver the ship in as evasive a pattern as the plasma storms allow." Rosh instructed aloud, while he silently curse the engineers who designed this ship without the capability to fire torpedoes. His private concerns were not only shared but voiced by the two junior officers on the bridge.
"If only we had a few photon torpedoes, or something to force them to back off." Franks complained from the helm.
"The only antimatter you'll find on this ship is in the warp reactor." Jordan pointed out. "And we can't fire that at them."
"That isn't entirely accurate Ensign Singer." Rosh said as the ship rocked again from another disruptor blast.
"Shields down to sixty-seven percent." Jordan read of his console. He then asked, "What isn't accurate, sir?"
Rosh did not answer; he was considering something very carefully to himself. He then touched his comm. badge, "Rosh to engineering."
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Ensign Hudson and Chief Reilly were rerouting what power they could to the shields when the call from the bridge came through. "Hudson here." The chief engineer responded.
"Ensign, is it possible to eject one of the antimatter pods?" Lieutenant Rosh's voice asked from the overhead speaker.
"We only have two, sir." Hudson replied.
"I know how many pods we have ensign. I asked if you could eject one into space." The usual calm in Rosh's voice was now laced with an urgent undercurrent.
The slight change in the XO's voice did not go unnoticed by the young ensign. He quickly reviewed the procedure in his head before replying. "Yes sir. All I'd have to do is disconnect one of them from the reactor and open the ventral service hatch."
"Then do it." Rosh ordered.
Hudson looked at Chief Reilly uneasily. The chief smirked and said, "Mind if I tagged along? I've never ejected an antimatter pod before."
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The bridge rocked again. "Shields at fifty-three percent! Try not to get hit by every one of their shots JG!" Jordan yelled.
"Do you think you could do any better dodging these plasma columns forming out of nowhere and the Jem'Hadar disruptors?" Franks spat back.
Rosh intervened before Jordan had a chance to respond. "Mr. Singer, Status of the Dominion ships."
Jordan had to scan his console for the answer; he had been avoiding watching the numbers, telling himself that each shot from their phaser banks did some good. "The lead ship's shields are at ninety-one percent. The other is undamaged." Hearing himself read aloud the advantage their pursuers held over them made the Nightingale's situation all the more menacing.
'One minute.' Rosh thought to himself before tapping his comm. badge. "Rosh to Ensign Hudson, where's my antimatter pod?"
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Hudson was sprinting down the service corridor beneath the shuttle bay; following about ten meters behind was the Chief when Rosh's voice sounded over the comm. "We're working on it, sir." Hudson hollered through heavy breaths. He half slid half fell on top of the access hatch to the antimatter storage bay. He rotated the locking handle and pulled the hatch open in one fluid motion. The Chief Engineer was already climbing down the latter when Reilly made it to the access hatch.
"Now I remember why I never ejected an antimatter pod, I hate running." The Chief huffed as he started down the latter.
The bottom rung was only five feet from the bay's overhead. It left the climber on a small ledge just above the two large antimatter pods that held the fuel Nightingale's main reactor. The bay was located directly along the ship's keel. The antiquated term referred to the principle structural member of sea-going ships. Almost without exception this was also the part of the ship that sat lowest in the water. Squatting on the ledge Hudson's hands flew across the wall console as he prepared a pod for ejection.
"What can I do?" The Chief asked, sitting on his haunches next to the Ensign. Both men were momentarily thrown of balance when the ship suddenly began to rock as another disrupter blast hit the Nightingale.
Hudson did not take his eyes off the wall console, but dropped one hand to small tool locker near the deck and pulled out a large auto-wrench. He handed it to the Chief and said, "When I tell you, detach the port pod from the valve assembly."
Reilly shifted to a prone position on the ledge, and fitted the auto-wrench around the collar of the pod. There was a thunk sound and a dim bluish glow came over the bottom of the bay beneath the pods as a force field was activated along the surface of the ventral service hatch. A moment later the doors of the hatch spread open and the Chief was staring directly into the field of plasma beneath the ship.
"Mr. Hudson we need that pod now!" Rosh shouted over the comm.
"It's on its way." Hudson replied while opening a panel in the bulkhead to reveal two mechanical levers. He grasped the port lever and turned to the chief. "Now!" He ordered. Chief Reilly squeezed the control on the handle of the auto-wrench and the tool's head began to spin furiously. At the same time Ensign Hudson pulled down on the lever, disengaging the magnetic lock that sealed the pod to the valve assembly. The pod began to sink down and the glow of the force field in the bottom of the bay intensified the container passed out of the ship into open space.
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"Shields down to twenty-six percent." Jordan reported as the ship quaked again.
"Never mind that now." Rosh instructed. "Keep your mind on the task at hand."
"Aye, sir. Targeting phasers." Through the interference Jordan found the point he had to hit. "Phasers locked."
"Don't miss." Franks muttered quietly.
Rosh stared intently at his console, waiting for the right moment. The Assualt ships were almost on top of the pod now. Rosh waited half a moment longer, then barked the order, "Fire!"
Jordan pressed the phaser control immediately, a glowing red beam blasted backwards towards the small pod. Even before the phaser beam was terminated the antimatter in the pod began to annihilate the matter of its container, giving off the impression of a brilliant white flower with a long glowing red stem hanging off the stern of the hospital ship. An instant later the whimsical image was gone, replace by a display of antimatter's true unbridled power. All aft facing sensors were blinded as energy at every frequency they could registered surged at them as unannihilated antimatter found the hull of the lead Jem'Hadar ship.
"The lead ship has been destroyed." Jordan reported when the sensors finally came back into focus. "The remaining ship's shields are down to sixty-four percent. We did it, sir!"
"We almost did it, Mr. Singer. There is still one more ship to contend with." Rosh clarified, while considering his next move.
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"Now that was something." Chief Reilly said, getting up off his stomach and squatting next to Hudson on the cramp ledge of the antimatter storage bay.
"Yeah." Was all Hudson could think to say in reply. Looking at the empty space where the pod had been moments before the Chief Engineer reflected, "We just dropped a lot of antimatter. That pod had a supply that could have powered us for a year and a half."
"We still have half a tank." The Chief said, letting a slight smile creep across his face.
"Rosh to Ensign Hudson." The XO's voice rang out around them once again.
"Hudson here." The Ensign answered.
"Would we still be able to fire phasers if we ejected the other pod?" The question hung in the air for a few moments before Hudson even attempted to reply. He could barely believe what he heard, never in his short engineering career had he thought that he would be jettisoning a ships supply of antimatter.
In his mind, the young engineer ran through the numbers: the injector reservoir would have about a five minute supply of antimatter left in it once the pod was ejected, after that was consumed the reactor would shut down and the auxiliary power would kick in, that would maintain primary power anywhere from twenty to thirty minutes, after that everything but the most vital systems, like life support and the impulse engines, would loose power. "Yes." Hudson finally said. "But we'll begin to losses no essential systems about a half and hour after we eject the pod, including the majority of the medical equipment in sickbay."
"Understood." Rosh said. "Eject the pod."
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On the bridge Jordan was reading himself to detonate the second pod when his console lit up with warnings. He had been monitoring the plasma storms on a secondary display. The Nightingale had just missed a forming plasma column by two hundred yards, only a hair in terms of stellar distances. "Hey! JG, you almost hit that last plasma discharge!"
"The storms are getting denser. Those columns are forming faster." Franks spoke fast. He was franticly trying to keep the ship out of danger. His skills where at their limit, that and a little bit of luck had kept the ship away from the dangerous plasma columns. The ship then lurched again as the Nightingale's stern was hit again by the disruptors of the perusing assault ship.
"Mr. Singer, mind your post." Rosh commanded. The Andorian was watching the second pod drift free from the Nightingale on his console.
"Shields at eighteen percent." Jordan read off his screen. He then accessed his targeting scanners and located the small pod drifting through the ether. "Pod targeted and lock."
"Fire!" A instant after Rosh's order the sensors once again were blinded once again as the antimatter pod was detonated by the Nightingale's phasers. And the bridge seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief while the sensors were coming back into focus.
The relief was short lived. As the static gave way to a clear view Jordan's targeting scanners immediately picked up the Jem'Hadar Assault ship, fully intacted.
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"The Runabouts." Chief Reilly stated. It was an odd thing to simply say, unsolicited, but it was an odd thought that struck the chief.
"What?" Hudson asked, not able to draw any semblance of a logical thought from the chief's statement. The two men were still in the antimatter storage bay. The Ensign was closing the doors to the ventral service hatch while the Chief looked on.
"The Runabouts have matter/antimatter reactors." The Chief elaborated, slightly.
"Yes." Hudson replied still not following the Chief's line of thought.
"Then they have to have antimatter pods, smaller that the Nightingale's, but still enough to provide more than a half hour of main power." The Chief said, finally completing the train of thought that had motivated him to make his first odd statement.
"Yes, yes that's right!" Hudson said with excitement. The ventral service hatch shut and the Chief Engineer started up the latter. "Come on Chief, I'll need your help."
"I really should have gone to help out on the bridge." The Chief mused. "It would have been a lot less work."
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The mood on the bridge was one of despair. Everyone on the ship was relying on the bridge crew to make the right decisions, their success and their failures ruled the fate of all others. Jordan once again felt like a spectator to the battle, he had no control over what was happening to the Nightingale. His phaser banks did inconsequential damage to the perusing ship, there were no more antimatter pods, as far as the ensign could see, this ship was out of options. Jordan was so concerned with his uselessness that he almost missed it, a swirl in the plasma field. "Franks! Plasma swirl off the port bow, alter course to starboard!"
The helmsman did not answer. He was concentrating on other parts of the storms and did not notice the indications of the impending column.
"Franks! Alter course to starboard now!" Jordan said again louder.
Rosh could see the swirl Jordan warned of gaining in strength. "Helm, hard to starboard!"
Franks was shaken out of his tunnel vision and was suddenly aware of the imminent danger. He threw the controls as far to the right as possible, the ship responded just in time as the bow inched out of the plasma column's reach.
The rate of turn continued to increase and Jordan sensed a new problem. "Hard to port, you're going to swing the stern into the column!"
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Hudson and Reilly were not halfway down the service corridor when the ship shuddered and rocked so violently both men were knocked of their feet.
"That felt like a hull breach." The Chief said.
Hudson scrambled to his feet and accessed a wall console. "The port nacelle has been ruptured, there are plasma fires on multiple decks." He read off the display. Then, tapping his comm. badge, he ordered, "All engineering personnel, fires port stern, execute damage control procedures."
"Looks like the antimatter will have to wait." The Chief said to himself as he and the Ensign started for the damaged areas of the ship as quickly as their legs could carry them.
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Franks was frozen, his nerves had been shattered along with the port warp nacelle. Rosh was barking out orders to turn the ship, but Franks just stared ahead, unable to respond. He was responsible for the current damage to the ship and the weight of that responsibility made his hands to heavy to move.
Jordan saw that the ship was now heading directly towards another column of plasma. He refused to be a spectator to his own death and the destruction of the Nightingale. He leapt out of his chair and was at the helm in two steps. He grabbed Franks under each arm and ripped him out of his station. Jordan then assumed the post himself. "Permission to relieve the Helm." The ensign requested as he began manipulating the controls.
"Granted." Rosh replied, but Jordan had already begun to divert the ship's course, dodging the plasma columns that could easily destroy the ship.
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"There, that should keep your systems on line for awhile." Crewman Adkins said, closing the access panel. A lot of equipment had shut down in sickbay when the hull was breached. Adkins had immediately diverted power for Sovek's equipment around the damaged areas. "I've got to go now."
"I appreciate you assistance." Sovek commented, not looking up form his patient. Adkins then hurried out of sickbay towards the damaged nacelle.
As the Crewman ran down the passage way he notice how it was beginning to fill with smoke. He came to a hatch to the Jeffries tubes and crawled into the small opening. Just inside the opening he grabbed an oxygen generating mask and a fire extinguisher. Adkins then began to crawl towards the thickest smoke, searching for the flames that produced it.
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The Chief Engineer was at the edge of the damaged area, directing his technicians to head off the worst of the fires. Chief Reilly stood next to him, offering advice when he could. The smoke was thin enough to breathe through here, but still think enough to make it hard to partially obscure their visibility and cover their uniforms in soot.
"We don't have enough men to contain this. The fires are spreading too fast. The heat could start knocking out other systems." Reilly said.
"Yeah, this conduit here provides power for half of sickbay, and it's already beginning to over heat." The Chief Engineer stared at the display searching for a solution. "If we could isolate this section here," Hudson said pointing at the display, "we could depressurize these spaces and suffocate the fire." Reilly nodded in agreement and Hudson began directing his technicians to the appropriate positions.
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Part of Jordan actually found it fun, the slaloming through the plasma columns. He noted that the simulation he had tried back at the Academy was a poor representation of the actual Badlands. It was easier out here in real space. There were little things, like the direction turbulence came from and its intensity, which gave Jordan cues as to where the next plasma column could form. He could feel the safest course in his body, and he easily guided the Nightingale to it.
Rosh had no levity what so ever. Things have gone from bad to worse and he was out of options. They had ejected a three year supply of antimatter, the ship was burning, and to top it off one of his officers was sitting in the corner of the bridge holding his knees to his chest staring blankly at the deck. Not exactly the finest hour for a federation ship. Rosh did not have much hope left for the ailing hospital ship, but that did not mean others need share in his despondency. "Good work Mr. Singer. Keep it up, we'll beat them yet."
It may have been Rosh's words of encouragement, or maybe the young Ensign had just been emboldened from seizing control of the helm. But in the absence of any other suggestions from his senior officer and no other alternatives Jordan saw one possible course of action, one chance for survival.
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Reilly was following Hudson into the Jefferies tube. "I really should have gone to the bridge instead." The Chief muttered as he forced his protesting joints to continue crawling. "What is it we're doing again?"
"When the plasma column ruptured the nacelle it also severed a bunch of hydraulic lines, so we can't shut all of the isolation hatches remotely." Hudson explained.
"So before we let the air out of these spaces, we have to shut all the doors." The Chief came back.
"Exactly." Hudson replied. After a few more words he and the Chief split up. Reilly headed further down the same Jefferies tube to that deck's isolation hatch, while Hudson climbed up to the hatch on the deck above.
Chief Reilly reached his assigned hatch and out of habit pressed the lighted control pad that would have sent the hatch swooshing shut had the hydraulics been in order. Grumbling he removed the control panel to reveal a large lever. In the tiny crawl space it was difficult to get into a position that would allow Reilly enough leverage to muscle the handle down, but it wasn't impossible. With his back against one wall of the tube and his bent legs pressing his feet against the other, the Chief yanked the lever closing the doors a third of the way. "For the love of… You'd think they'd help you out a little with these emergency systems." The Chief cursed at the lever as he yanked it twice more until the hatch was full shut and sealed. Sitting back and wiping the sweat from his brow Reilly tapped his comm. badge. "Reilly to Hudson, all battened down here."
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"Roger that, Chief." Hudson said from the deck above. With the Chief reporting in that left only one outstanding tech. "Adkins, what's the hold up?" Hudson hollered.
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The young technician was near the heart of the fires. He had battled small blazes all the way to his assigned hatch. The smoke was thick and stung the crewmen's eyes, luckily the lighted buttons allowed him to locate the control panel and remove it. "I'm there now, sir." Adkins grasped the manual lever and pulled it down. The hatch doors did not move, instead a liquid erupted from the base of the handle and spilled over Adkins out stretched arm.
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"It's no good, sir. The emergency hydraulic accumulator has ruptured; I just got a handful of hydraulic fluid." Crewman Adkins' voice came across the comm. Hudson slumped in the Jefferies tube. It would take time to seal off the entire section ahead of that hatch, too much time.
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Chief Reilly exited the Jefferies where he had entered it. He stretched and dusted the soot the smoky tube had left on him. Looking at the wall consul he and Hudson had consulted earlier he became uneasy. "Hudson, that overheating power conduit is approaching critical temperatures." He didn't remind the Engineer that 'they had to get the fires out now' or 'if that conduit blows you can kiss the ship goodbye'. The Chief recognized this was no time to remind the engineer of what he already knew; the ensign didn't need to hear about the severity of the problems when he was looking for solutions.
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Sitting in the Jefferies tube, Hudson knew how to close the hatch. He knew there where the second emergency accumulator was, but he wasn't sure if he could bear giving the order.
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The part of Jordan that found dodging the plasma storms fun was now being overpowered by the reality of what a mistake would cause. Franks' run in with the plasma column could have caused a relatively small amount of damage to the ship compared to what could have happened. Jordan did no doubt his ability to slalom the ship around the columns, and he knew he would not have clipped the column Franks did had he been at the helm, but what the ensign now had in mind would require all of Jordan's ability and perhaps more than he possessed. He checked his sensors, and found what he had been waiting for. With a deep breath he steadied the Nightingale's course.
Rosh's mind was a ball of clay, he could think of nothing, absolutely nothing that Nightingale could do against the remaining Assault Ship. All he felt was left for the ship was time and prayer. Staring at the view screen the plasma storms held a terrible beauty. The unbridled energy danced around on all sides of them, and directly in front of them Rosh saw it. "Plasma swirl! You're heading right into it Singer!" Rosh cried coming to his feet.
"I know." Jordan replied. "I think we can make it."
And Rosh suddenly saw what Jordan saw, a chance.
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"Do it son, it's the only way." Chief Reilly said to himself looking at the console. He now could see how the last hatch could be closed, and he knew what it meant Hudson would have to do.
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Hudson was close to tears. He liked Crewman Adkins, he was a good technician, and he would do his duty, if only Hudson could do his. Steadying his shaking voice Hudson tapped his comm. badge. "Adkins, have you tried the other emergency lever?"
"Sir, do you mean the one on the other side of the hatch?" Adkins' voice came through with an obviously confused tone. "Wouldn't that close me in?"
"Get that hatched closed, Mr. Adkins." Hudson's voice trembled as he spoke. "Get it closed or we're all dead."
The crewman was silent for a moment before responding. "Sir, if it's not too much to ask." His voice finally came. "After the fire is out, could you check if you don't hear from me? See if I'm alright?"
"Of course." Was all Hudson could manage.
"All hatches secure!" The Chief announced from the wall console. "I'm depressurizing the section."
Hudson closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. The fires would go out now, the ship would be safe, and there would only be one casualty.
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The Nightingale was directly above the swirl of plasma. Wisps of the orangish pink energy began to twist upward, reaching for the small ship. Jordan pushed the impulse engines to flank speed; this was going to be close. A plasma column began to for, shooting up ward out of the swirl. As the Nightingale strained its engines to inch out of the column's range, the Assault Ship bared down on them. Jordan had heard the Jem'Hadar were relentless in their pursuit of victory, and gave little head to their own personal safety. He was now counting on the truth of that rumor. The column grew quickly, bolting upward at a vehement pace. It passed the stern of the Nightingale with only twenty meters to spare, a small margin, but large enough. The Assault Ship's down was approximate the same distance from the column on the opposite side, but the distance was too small to alter course. The explosion gave the Nightingale on final rock courtesy of the Jem'Hadar, but only one.
"Well done, Mr. Singer!" Rosh exclaimed, and patted the helmsman on the back.
"Just doing what I came here to do, sir." Jordan replied, smiling broadly. The ship was safe, and his action, his decisions, had made all the difference.
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The Chief met Hudson as the Ensign crawled out of the Jefferies tube. The Engineer's face was covered in soot, save three or four streaks cleaned by his own tears. "I killed some one Chief." Hudson said, standing up.
"I know." The Chief replied quietly. "But you saved the ship."
"I have to go check on Adkins, I have to make sure. I promised him I would." Hudson began to walk away, but the Chief grabbed his arm.
"I already did, he was sucked out into to space." Reilly's voice was firm now, almost commanding. "There are some things we can control and some things we can't. You can't do anything for Adkins, but we can get an antimatter pod from one of the runabouts before the auxiliary power runs out. The ship isn't in the clear yet, not by a long shot."