Chapter 6:
Unfriendly Fire
6th December 2378
Mission Time Counter: 8 Minutes 02 Seconds
Orbit, Xevenya XII Gas Giant
For a long, seemingly eternal moment, Lt. Junior Grade Daniel 'deadshot' Mobius could not have been more terrified in his entire life.
Never once had he come so close to death before. Yes, he had been in some life-threatening situation, but there had always been some way out, some safety device to help him along. In a nightmare, there was still the chance of waking up…but here and now? There was nothing out in space right now save for him, his wing mates, and the Jolly Roger.
All his training, all his years in Starfleet and indeed, even as an officer, utterly and completely failed to placate or seem to stop his mind from erupting into a full-on panic.
We're all gonna die! The thought raced through his mind as he checked the sensors with one hand, while the other hand beat on the console in a frantic attempt to get the ship to go into warp – only to get an error message thrown right back at him each and every time. The error message only infuriated him some more as he slammed a fist into the console, nearly smashing it.
"Sir! We need orders? What do we do?! Skier's voice came over the radio, interrupting Daniel's thoughts. Skier's voice was low, but contained a nervous streak within it that caught his attention. Daniel looked at the console, and his hands. Then he looked back outside the window, at the Jolly Roger before shaking his head.
What the bleeding hell am I doing?.
And then the moment passed. He remembered his training, the years of preparation for just this moment…the one where more lives than his were on stake, and when they relied on him for orders and a way out to safety.
Get a grip, damnit! I'm better than this… He thought, calming his mind slightly and focusing on the situation at hand. Activating the radio, Daniel replied to his wingmates as he moved the control stick to the side, slowly banking the fighter to starboard, and then away from the Battlecruiser that was headed straight for them.
"Alpha wing, dis-engage now. Move away from the Jolly Roger – I'm signaling command for backup."
"Glad to, sir!" Came the simple reply as the rest of the fighters turned to form up on his wing. As Daniel reached to unlock the communications protocols, however, he noticed Skier's fighter to his left. The craft appeared heavily damaged from his vantage point, with the port side wing missing almost completely. From the looks of it, it was a miracle it was still intact – much less moving as well as it was. Still, Daniel kept it as a note for later, and focused on the problem at hand.
The radio crackled with static, indicating the line was open. Without hesitation, Daniel immediately spoke into it, his voice hurried.
"This is Alpha 1, 23rd Silver Scythes. Command, do you copy?"
The line remained filled with static as no reply came through. Odd…the Persistence should have picked up on the signal by now. Frowning, Daniel tapped the console, before speaking again, this time a bit louder.
"Command! Do you copy?! We're in big trouble out here!"
This time, however, the static seemed to clear, and command's voice came through the channel. The monitor flickered as the face of one of the flight commander came up.
"Affirmative Alpha wing, we copy you – what's the situation?"
The tone was low and even; a distinct contrast to Daniel's own distressed voice. Daniel glanced back at the Jolly Roger before replying. It was definitely in pursuit of them – it was only a matter of time till it got close enough to lock on and fire torpedoes.
"You'll never believe this, Command! The Jolly Roger engaged an unknown hostile hidden within the gas giant – the return fire of which fried our stealth systems and warp drives. Theirs no way we can engage the battle cruiser on our own – we need backup now!"
Command seemed to be incredibly surprised at this, however, and the officer nearly gawked. Still, somehow he retained his composure as he spoke, somewhat more quickly this time.
"Say again, Pilot? The Jolly Roger?"
"Affirmative, command. We're sending sensor feeds now. We need backup as soon as possible!"
For a moment, the officer seemed to consider something, and then looked away from the screen – nodding to someone on his right. He looked back at screen and nodded at Daniel.
"Acknowledged. ETA for the Mad Bombers is 45 seconds, and the Gargant will be there in sixty. Try and complete the mission if you can, pilots, but staying alive is your first priority! Support vessels are en-route as well."
Easier said than done.
Daniel quelched the thought and simply nodded. He was about to reply, when a loud, blaring alarm came out over his monitors. His eyes went wide as he frantically searched for the afterburner button on his control stick.
"Oh shit! Alpha wing, we've been locked on – evasive maneuvers! Evasive maneuvers and counter-measures now!"
With that, Daniel slammed both control sticks forward, hitting the afterburner at the same time; forcing him back into the seat as inertial dampeners struggled to compensate for the sudden acceleration. The sleek fighter jumped into top speed as the afterburners engaged, shooting forward like a bullet fired from a gun. Behind it, several glowing points of light emerged from the torpedo launchers located on the Jolly Roger's stardrive section. Four pinpoints emerged in total; each one first accelerating away from the ship, and then arcing towards the fleeing stealth craft that streaked off in different directions.
But the torpedoes were equally fast – if not faster. They accelerated and were beginning to catch up with the stealth craft, all of which were now maneuvering desperately to get away from the torpedoes. They dived, rolled and otherwise just strafed as much as they could. As the torpedoes closed in, however, each craft let loose a string of bright silver counter-measures, which lit up the space behind them. The torpedoes swerved off course; moving to meet the spoof instead.
Daniel grunted as the explosion sent a blast of heat and energy through the shields and hull, shaking the craft and forcing him to momentarily loose control. The fighter swerved and went off-course for a brief moment, causing it to come dangerously close to Skier's fighter. He managed to recover in time, though, moving out of the way and stabilizing the craft.
Daniel grimaced as he looked back at the sensors, however, and noticed that the Jolly Roger was launching more torpedoes at them.
Sure as hell hope those re-enforcements get here soon! Daniel thought to himself, gritting his teeth and getting ready to hit the afterburners and counter-measures once more.
6th December 2378
Mission Time Counter: 8 Minutes 55 seconds
Villaires Subspace Node
The twelve Ragnarok bombers of the Mad Bombers floated around the Villaires subspace node; waiting patiently for the call to come in from command that they were being called into action, or the next shift was coming in to replace them. In either case, Lt. Commander Ne'Zr's 'Red Target' waited patiently in the dark cockpit of the large bomber craft.
She was used to this kind of waiting far more than her human colleagues. Indeed, she had waited for longer periods of time – especially when raising her young, back on the home-world. Memories came back of the times then, and the Korak simply smiled internally as she allowed herself to revel in them for the moment. It was a luxury she found usually eased the waiting and quelched the nervousness. However, as with most luxuries, it didn't last. The console lit up as command's voice came in, interrupting her thoughts almost immediately.
RT reacted instantaneously, her attention focusing on the command officer as he spoke, his voice somewhat hurried, yet mostly even.
"RT, this is command. Alpha wing has been engaged by the primary target near the Xevenya XII Gas giant and has called in for assistance. Co-ordinates are being fed to your computers now – warp is in 15 seconds!"
RT noted the warp drive control begin it's automatic countdown to warp. Internally RT's predatory drive heightened as the chance for combat presented itself to her. She could barely contain the excitement in her voice as she spoke, somehow managing to keep a calm and even tone.
"All right everyone – Alpha wing has called in for assistance. Let's move it, people!"
RT cut off the line then, partially because she didn't need to give any more info, and partially because the countdown timer was fast approaching zero. It was at three seconds now before the warp drives came online.
She craned her insect-like face to the right hand side, looking for the display with the sensor and status information. She looked at the sensor displays, making sure that the bombs were all working properly. The Rangarok bombers could carry a total of 14 large bombs, each significantly more powerful than the advanced quantum torpedoes used by Starfleet, and each one specifically designed just to fit on their bombers. However, in this trip they were carrying only 6 in their massive bomb bays to either side of the cockpit. The remaining payload space had been filled with specialized shield-disrupting torpedoes. An experimental design, they, like everything else in the wing were being field-tested here. They would especially come in useful, however, considering that the main objective was to capture the Jolly Roger, not destroy it.
It was now two seconds to warp.
It took little more than a momentary glance to confirm that all the bombs and warheads were fully operational, while yet another glance confirmed that the bomber itself was in peak condition. She did a slight barrel roll to check how fast the bomber could turn. It managed to finish it within half a second, which was good, considering that there was now exactly one second left to warp.
RT smiled, however as she saw the last display: it was showing a rear view of the bomber, over viewing the rest of the squad…which was now also doing a barrel roll, and they were doing it as a single unit, too! A surge of pride filled her as she did another barrel roll in reply; waving off the rest of the wing just before they went into warp.
Command's gonna get pissed…but who really cares? RT thought to herself, before focusing on the viewscreen ahead of her. The countdown had reached zero, and warp drive had been initiated. She could hear and feel the thrumming of the engines behind the cockpit as they powered up, and then engaged.
Here we go.
And then the entire group shot off into warp, leaving nothing in their wake.
6th December 2378
Mission Time Counter: 9 Minutes 5 seconds
Merchant Navy Vessel Gargant
En-route from outside Xevenya System
The Gargant wasn't a particularly fast ship, or a sleek-looking one, for that matter. But then, most Ore miners weren't originally meant to be either fast or sleek. What it lacked in speed and good looks, it made up for in sheer durability and firepower. The long, boxy body of the Gargant was actually far, far tougher than it looked, while the many empty mining laser turrets were now occupied by Pulse Phaser Turrets. Each of the small, dual-barreled turrets were rather weak individually, but collectively the 24 overall turrets represented enough firepower to allow the Merchant Navy Vessel to go up against an upgraded Excelsior class starship and come out the victor. It's second anti-matter core was dedicated only to power the shielding grid all over the ship, giving it a toughness that easily rivaled any military ship's power, while the armor plating provided a secondary layer of protection that was a problem in and of itself.
With the aid of several smaller vessels, the Gargant would be an easy match for a Galaxy class starship as well, taking enough of a punishment to give its compatriots a good shot at taking larger ships down. What was most interesting, however was the fact that this sort of a vessel was actually far cheaper than it's Starfleet counterparts – not to mention needed far fewer crew. In fact, it required so little crew, that the bridge compliment was just 2 people – the Captain and the First Mate, one of whom was now anticipating the conflict that was expected in just a few moments time.
"ETA to the gas giant?"
Captain Holland asked as he stared at the view-screen. A rather young man in his early 20s, he was rather tall and slender – bordering on the verge of unhealthy, almost. But the muscles on his arms and upper body seemed to belie this somewhat. His blonde hair and bright blue eyes didn't seem to match up to heavily tanned skin, unshaven face and beard. But it was what was underneath these mis-matching features that allowed the human captain to be where he was now.
Holland had gotten here mostly because of his tenacity, and battle instincts. Not exactly a seasoned veteran, he was still experienced enough in combat to prove his worth, making his way up the ladder till he was now Captain of one of the strongest civilian ships in the local sector.
And it was this instinct…this desire almost, that now drove him to the edge of his seat in anticipation. War and combat was something that captain thirsted for, ever since his first combat sorties during the Dominion war. He couldn't explain it, save that it was an instinctual need that Holland needed…one that somewhat disturbed First Mate Chaplain.
Holland glanced behind him, to the small platform above where the Bolian Officer was sitting. It was a cramped bridge, consisting mostly of the command chair where he was strapped in, the First Mate's chair and the viewscreen ahead of them. The only other features were a small path for the crew to walk, and a set of doors to either side; one leading to the turbolift and another to the lavatory.
Chaplain looked at him, a sign of worry in his eyes. It was a sign that Holland knew all too well – Chaplain had never liked combat. Never would, for that matter. It was something that he knew and understood very well after years of working with the man – after all, not everyone was a fighter, and although this was the Merchant Navy, it sure as hell wasn't Starfleet. One of the reasons he was still around though, was that he didn't let that dislike get to him at all.
"ETA is 20 seconds, sir. The Mad Bombers are already on their way, and long range scanners have confirmed the presence of the Jolly Roger. There appears to be some sort of communications jamming going on, though – Command apparently wont be able to contact us while we are in the combat zone. Alpha wing has been engaged, and are calling for backup or retrieval, if it's possible."
The Bolian replied, his tone calm and even, betraying none of the fear that his eyes did. Holland nodded before pressing one of the buttons on the arm of the command chair, opening a direct line to Engineering. "Engineering! Are all systems ready down there?"
The comm. Link simply blasted a wave of static for a moment before quieting down and a voice broke through. In the background Holland could hear the loud thum of the twin warp cores running at full power. He sometimes wondered how the Engineering crew could stand it – but then he remembered that for the most part, they were a bunch of loons, so it wasn't that far from the imagination.
"Aye sir! Just 'ive us the signal and you'll 'ave ya bloody shields!"
The voice was somewhat broken and high-pitched as Commander Roanoke spoke. Holland groaned internally as he struggled to understand the strange Russian-scottish-Vulcan accent mix. It was a bastard of an accent to speak – let alone understand. How the man had managed to pass through the company interviews had been a mystery to Captain Holland, but the fact was he still stuck with the man…and he did good work, at the least – that alone justified keeping him on the payroll, if nothing else. Shaking his head, he glanced at Chaplain.
"Consider this your signal, Commander. I want those shields up and I want them to stay up, understand? We enter combat in 10 seconds! Holland out."
Before the engineer could reply, Holland simply shut down the channel – the less he listened to that accent, the better. Looking up at the screen, Holland quickly changed it to the tactical display and overlay. The screen blinked out for a moment, before coming back on and providing a top-down display of the entire solar system. It zoomed into the gas giant they were now heading to. Several icons appeared; showing the current situation in a somewhat simple manner.
There was only one red triangle here, and Holland didn't need to read the text next to it to know that it was the Jolly Roger. It was chasing four green squares that was right next to it – most probably Alpha wing. Holland noted that the fighter's movements were erratic and going in all directions. He frowned for a moment. What the hell were they doing out there?
Evasive Manuevers. The thought struck him, and the frown disappeared. The Jolly Roger was persuing them at a high speed, and probably locking onto the little fighters with torpedoes and Phasers. Evasive maneuvers was probably the only chance of survival for the fighters in this case. At the bottom of the screen a blue triangle was highlighted, closing in on the red one. Holland recognized this as his own ship, the Gargant. At the same time, over a dozen other squares – this time green – were coming in towards the Jolly Roger from the opposite direction.
Those should be RT's squadron Holland thought to himself, remembering the bombers and the rather…strange leader they had.
Pfft...Bombers…where did Starfleet ever get the idea of using them? Far cheaper if they just made their ships like the Merchant Navy does.
Holland had never really believed in the virtue of smaller being better. To him, the bigger the ship, the more potential firepower it could carry. And firepower was really all they needed, really. Still, he'd reserved his judgement till he saw the things in action. After all…if they worked, then it was a good thing for Starfleet, right? Either way, they would probably find out around 10 seconds from now.
"Go to Red Alert."
There was no reply from Chaplain. Instead, the lights dimmed around the bridge and turned red. Sirens rang out all over the ship as Holland checked the timer. 12 seconds to go till they got contact. He glanced up at the screen – the Mad Bombers had already dropped out of warp, and were now moving towards the pirate cruiser. He counted down the seconds till they came out of warp. As he did so, a signal came through from the Mad Bombers as they made contact with Alpha wing.
"Mad Bombers are on the scene and we have the Jolly Roger on our scopes! Command sends their regards, Alpha wing - what's your status?"
RT's voice rang out. For a moment, Holland gave a silent prayer of thanks to whomever decided the Universal translator would have a neutral accent. He listened on however, as Alpha wing's leader replied.
"Good to see some finally see some friendly faces! Our warp drives have been hit and we've taken serious damage. We cant last much longer out here unless we get some cover!"
They were now five seconds out. Glancing towards the display on the arm of the chair, he saw that the ship was in fighting condition and ready to go. On the screen, he saw as the green squares that were the Bombers pick up speed and move towards the Jolly Roger
"Understood. Support 1 is en-route to your position for repairs - try and get as far away from the cruiser as you can. Gamma Wing, acquire target lock and begin your bombing runs! First Salvo shield disruptors, second salvo torpedoes – let's see if we can't get this sucker in our first run!"
The main screen split in half almost as soon as they dropped out of half. On the left was the same tactical display, but the right side now showed the cruiser hanging in front and above them. Holland smiled internally – finally, the fight could begin. He didn't even notice as his hand went straight to the intercom, opening a line straight to the gunnery control several decks below.
"Gunnery Control, lock onto the Jolly Roger – I want an Alpha strike on my mark! We need those shields down yesterday! Chaplain, fire torpedoes at your discretion; aim for critical points one the shields are down – priority is to disable, not destroy."
They had come out in the most ideal position – attacking the ship from below, where it couldn't direct its subspace weapon as easily. Time to rip you apart, ye beast. Holland thought to himself, smiling internally. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as the time to fight had finally come.
The smile vanished, however, as he saw several strips light up all across the cruiser's hull as it came up to full power. He didn't even have time to shout a warning as, suddenly, the strips lit up and almost a dozen beams of light reached out towards the Gargant, raking across the shields and causing the entire ship to shake violently. At the same time, a blast of torpedoes lanced out from the turret underneath the saucer section; impacting in a violent explosion all across the Gargant's weakened shields.
At the same time, on the top of the vessel, several more arrays and turrets lit up as they tracked the incoming bombers, opening fire at them. Phaser beams streaked across the night sky, making contact with the heavy bombers; while the smaller turrets opened fire with projectiles that flew in-between the formation and detonating, lighting up the darkness of space with massive explosions that disrupted the bombers' flight paths.
"Watch the flak, people! Release your payloads only when your 1000 clicks in – the bombs wont make it past this screen!"
RT's voice rang through the comm. Channel. The tactical display updated a yellow circle around the group of bombers – which were now slowly and steadily making their way to the Jolly Roger. The edge of the circle was maybe 20? No, 25 seconds out. The bomber's formation had been significantly disrupted by the flak, though, and they were now flying somewhat spread out. As it is, two or three of the squares were forced to break off due to critical damage; warping out towards the Persistance almost immediately.
They just needed hold out a little bit longer. Holland was somewhat surprised as a green square broke off from Alpha wing; moving towards the Jolly Roger at the same time. It then vanished as a signal came through.
"This is Alpha 2. My stealth systems are back online! I'm going to try and take a scan of the cruiser's subspace system. Try and keep it distracted if you can!"
Keep them distracted? It's not like we're sitting and twiddling our thumbs here.
Holland thought to himself, somewhat sarcastically. Still, even as the Gargant shook around him and threatened to come apart, Holland couldn't help but frown at this…Flak guns? Why would the Jolly Roger need flak guns? Nobody used them unless they were going against fighters and/or bombers – something which Starfleet had only recently moved to. It was almost as if Marhavan had been ready for them in advance, expecting them to be here…or had he prepared for another enemy? In either case, he filed it off for later. This was not something to be thinking of in a battle situation.
Thankfully, Holland had been strapped in, meaning he wasn't thrown off the seat or affected by the shaking much. He checked the status of the shields and cursed – that blast had nearly taken them down to 60. Not wasting anymore time, he shouted into the intercom.
"Gunnery control, open fire!! Engineering cut power to the engines - give the shields everything we've got!"
As one, the row of 12 turrets on the top of the Gargant's hull turned towards the Jolly Roger. They immediately opened fire; pulses of Phaser blasts streaking across space and impacting on the shields of the battle cruiser, unfortunately to little effect. The alpha strike had been mostly useless, despite focusing only on a single spot. The Gargant was tough and strong…but the Jolly Roger was simply tougher. A fact which it now proved as the Phasers opened fire again, raking the shields of the converted mining vessel once more.
Holland cursed as the ship shook again – but this time the shields held fast at 50 strength. For the first time in the course of the fight, however, he could feel his confidence beginning to waiver and doubt creeping into his mind. The battle had only begun, and already the Gargant was suffering a major beating.
Well, what did you expect? A cakewalk? There's a reason that ship's the most feared in the Alpha Quadrant you know."
"Weapons are having minimal effect, sir. The Jolly Roger's shields are at 70 percent! At this rate, we'll loose our shields before they loose theirs!" Chaplain cried out from behind Holland as the ship suddenly Jerked to the left as several torpedoes impacted across the shields, draining them further. This was followed by yet another blast of Phaser fire. However, this time the Phasers managed to penetrate the shields; arcing over the hull and turrets, leaving behind them a trail of burnt armor plating and debris that scattered off into space. It didn't last long, however, as the shields caught up and blocked the Phasers again.
The ship shook violently as Holland struggled to remain his seat even with the harness. He coughed as smoke filled the bridge from burnt –out circuit breakers and consoles. The din of alarms and fire emergency sirens was deafening, but quickly died out as he shut them down. Behind him, Chaplain recovered and read out the damage report.
"Multiple hull breaches on Deck 3 through 6, we've lost turrets 4, 8 and 12 and casualties are being reported on all decks! Repair crews dispatched to the breaches, but Armor integrity has suffered a major hit – we're at 60"
"Fire torpedoes! Don't hold back anything!" Holland replied back, slamming his fist into the arm of the chair. He was not going to loose this battle, regardless of what the cost.
The Gargant opened fire with its own volley of torpedoes; the bright red projectiles streaking across the gap between both starships and then exploding brightly against the pirate cruiser a second later. But it was a double-edged dagger as the splash damage washed over the Gargant's own shields, weakening them in the process.
"Damnit! This isn't working! Mad Bombers!, we could use some help out here!"
Holland cursed. He watched as the edge of the circle finally reached the Jolly Roger. RT's reply came over the comm. Channel.
"Affirmative, we have lock.Launching first salvo now!"
Of the twelve bombers that had come to attack the Jolly Roger four had been forced to turn back due to massive damage. The eight bombers that were left, however, pressed on in their attack. Some of them trailed a long plume of smoke and fuel behind them due to battle damage, while others were still relatively intact. All had scorch marks across their hulls from multiple Phaser blasts, however.
Still, as they got into range the slats covering their bomb bays slid open, revealing the deadly payloads concealed within. Blue disruptor torpedoes burst out from the bays as powerful impulse engines pushed them towards the target they were locked on to: the Jolly Roger. Even more rows of slats opened up, however, as the Bombers released the second salvo. This time, the familiar bright orange color of Photon torpedoes followed close behind the disruptors. Each bomber had fired almost half a dozen disruptor missiles, and 4 torpedoes, bringing the total number of projectiles heading towards the pirate cruiser at 80.
"Bombs away! Gamma wing pull back, reload and prepare for a second run!"
The camera view on the screen shifted as it zoomed into the bombs moving towards the Jolly Roger. They weren't moving very fast, and he could see the countdown on the screen was showing 10 seconds to impact. It was then he noticed that something had chanced: the ship was no longer shaking. Frowning, Holland was about to say something when Chaplain spoke up, beating him to the point.
"Sir! The Jolly Roger has ceased fire – I'm reading a massive subspace spike from the vessel! I looks like it may jump!"
"On screen!" Holland nodded. The screen promptly changed to a picture of the Jolly Roger. The ship was dark now save for it's shields – which were still taking fire from the Gargant's turrets. It seemed like it was playing dead almost and if not for the fire, looked like how a very, very scary derelict normally would. However that image was shattered as a vortex began to form just off the ship's bow. At first, it was only a pinpoint of blue light that shimmered along the ring of the Jolly Roger's saucer section. But it rapidly grew in both size and volume; its center being nothing but a swirling blue and white mass of subspace.
It was beautiful. Holland couldn't help but stare at it in awe – the only thing that came close had been the wormhole at Bajor…but this…this was far more interesting, far more awe-inspiring to see. But at the same time, it seemed…sinister in a way. Holland couldn't describe it…but somehow, as he stared into the vortex, he could feel something staring right back at him – even though it was through the viewscreen.
"Amazing." Chaplain whispered from behind him, equally awed by the spectacle.
It was when that combat instincts kicked in, and Holland snapped out of it.
"The Jolly Roger is escaping!! Alpha two, scan that ship!! We need to know where the hell its escaping to!"
Holland shouted over the radio, cursing himself mentally – but it was already too late. On the screen, the pirate cruiser quickly accelerated, plunging the entire vessel into the maw of the subspace vortex. The vortex simply seemed to swallow the vessel whole as it disappeared inside. The captain could do little but watch in frustration as the Bombs Gamma wing launched arched upwards as they struggled to keep up with the fleeing vessel. However, the vortex closed up behind the Jolly Roger, disappearing in a bright flash of light. The bombs could do little but simply continue in space where the ship had been, searching for a target that wasn't there.
"DAMNIT!" Holland shouted, cursing at the top of his voice as he slammed his fist into the arm of his chair. He was angry; nay pissed. They had Markhavan in their grasp…and now he had escaped! Sure…they had been loosing. But still, Holland knew that he had had the upper hand, especially in the form of re-enforcements. He had believed, with all confidence that they could take it on and hold out long enough for the Persistance to arrive.
Damn that bastard!
"Any chance we managed to get the exit point for that subspace jump? Maybe we can catch up to him."
There was no way in hell he could allow it to end like this – his thirst for blood and a good fight was insatiable, and his foe fleeing the scene of battle was most definitely not going to stop him. He looked back at Chaplain, and realized that a similar frustration was playing across the Bolian's face.
"The computer might have a lock on the exit vector from the subspace data we managed to acquire. It is decoding the data now….done. Projected exit is on screen!"
Chaplain looked up towards the screen…and frowned. Holland followed his gaze…only to see the projected red triangle staying in same location as it was before on the tactical display.
Strange…
"Computer – zoom into the point of exit departure and rotate as necessary."
The display changed and rotated; showing the icons on a horizontal plane. The Gargant was in the middle, with the Mad Bombers approaching on top and the fired bombs moving parallel to the Gargant's own course as they headed off harmlessly into space. However, it was what was below the Gargant that caused Holland's eyes to go wide. He didn't have a chance to speak or say anything, however, as right side of the screen changed and the alarm sirens began to ring again.
The space below the Gargant lit up as a new subspace vortex opened up right behind it. Emerging from this vortex, the Jolly Roger now sat below the converted mining vessel, ready to attack at the weakened side of the shields with impunity.
But it did no such thing…instead, the Jolly Roger simply sat there…as if waiting for something to happen. Holland wasn't going to let it just sit there, though.
"Damn! Engineering, get the engines back online! Divert power from forward shields to the rear and bottom quarters! We need to turn this bucket of bolts around! Gunnery control, open fire!"
Holland roared as he manipulated the controls and checked the status of the ship. This was not good…not good at all. At this rate, engines would be up only in around 30 seconds time – at which they would most likely be dead. The only alternative was to stick and fight…hopefully diverting power would help them last till the Persistance arrived. The previous confidence suddenly seemed to falter as the truth of the situation dawned on him. Markhavan didn't have any intention to run…he was up to something here…but what could it be?
Damn that Markhavan! Damn him to hell! He couldn't help but thinking. His mind raged at this…how could this be happening? How could this be falling apart so quickly?
"Sir…" Chaplain whispered from above him.
"What is it Chaplain?!" Holland snapped out at the Bolian unintentionally.
"I think you should look at the screen…"
The captain glanced at the screen…and then suddenly, everything became clear.
"Oh…my…God."
The reason Markhavan had come back where he was now sitting was abruptly clear as the bombs the Mad Bombers had launched re-acquired their locks on the targets. The computers had been made smart enough that they had prepared for such an eventuality that they would loose the target, and then re-acquire them again. However, what they had not been prepared for till now – nobody had seemed to think of it – was the fact that their could be friendly ships in between them and the target when it reappeared.
But then nobody had expected it…nobody, that is, other than Markhavan – who was now sitting coolly below the Gargant as the torpedoes raced to impact with his ship, uncaring if the mining vessel was standing between them. The bombs were close enough that Holland realized there was little time to do anything, really. As it is the computer was counting down the time to impact. There was no time to move the engines…no time to re-divert power back to the top-side shields…nor was there time to listen to the warning from Gamma wing, stating they couldn't shut down the warheads due to subspace jamming, or their constant, desperate urges for him to get the ship moving out of the way.
There was only time to do two things, actually and that was for Holland's life to flash before his eyes…and for him to utter the words in "Oh God…Oh god no." in indescribable terror.
And then they hit.
The first salvo of torpedoes hit across the weakened topside shields of the Gargant flaring in bright explosions and blue shockwaves that washed over the entire ship. As the explosions died down however, the shields crackled and failed nearly instantly, exposing the vessel to further attack. This came in the form of the second salvo that neatly slammed into the Gargant.
In most normal circumstances, the armor plating all over the ship's hull would've protect it from such impacts, allowing a degree of survivability. However, these were hardly normal circumstances, and the prior bombardment of the Jolly Roger had weakened these plates in many areas. Torpedoes ripped through the weakened areas, smashing the hull into bits, and then blasting debris into space as they exploded inside the decks.
As fate would have it, one of the torpedoes had enough energy and momentum behind it that it managed to smash not only through the armor, but five whole decks of crew quarters, corridors and even the mess hall before it came to rest firmly within the bridge itself. It happened so fast, that neither Holland nor Chaplain had a moment to realize it's existence before the torpedo exploded; causing a shockwave that rippled outwards and all throughout the ship. It reached engineering and, combined with the shockwave of other warheads exploding all over the hull, essentially ripped the warp core into two, leaking anti-matter directly into the unprotected matter that surrounded it.
The result of course, was a sudden change of state best described as 'horrific'. At one moment, the Gargant was still relatively intact. The next, it had become nothing more than an expanding cloud of gas and light that was bright than the dim sun that shone several billion kilometers away. The wave of energy washed harmlessly over the shields of the Jolly Roger, which now accelerated forwards and jumped into a newly formed Subspace vortex directly ahead of it. It left behind it nothing, save for the dust, ashes and echoes of a ship once known as the Merchant Navy Vessel Gargant.