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Star Trek Enterprise

Here We Stand

Chapter 22:

Cyborgs From The Future.

Part 2

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(A Brief note, I do not own Star Trek or its associated products. Also please forgive any grammar and spelling errors I am Dyslexic and even with a spell checker it is difficult for me to see them.)

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As Captain Archer issued his orders with calm authority, the bridge of the Roanoke hummed with focused energy. Travis, the young officer at the helm, nodded attentively as he adjusted the starship's trajectory as instructed.

"Aye, sir," Travis replied, his hands deftly manipulating the controls to execute the precise manoeuvres outlined by Captain Archer.

Meanwhile, Malcolm, the stoic Englishman in charge of weapons, sprang into action, ensuring that the Roanoke's arsenal was primed and ready for combat.

"Right away, sir," Malcolm acknowledged, his accent crisp and precise as he directed the crew to prepare the ship's weapons systems.

As Archer settled into his command chair, his gaze fixed on the viewscreen displaying the approaching Arctic transport ship. With the plan forming in his mind, he pressed the comm on his armrest to address the engine room.

"Bridge to engine room, prepare for combat manoeuvres," Archer ordered, his voice firm and unwavering.

The response came swiftly, a drawled

"Aye, Cap we'll be ready before" confirming the readiness of the engineering team to support the upcoming engagement.

With weapons online and the crew prepared for action, Archer turned his attention back to Travis, outlining the intricacies of their tactical approach.

"Here's the plan, Travis," Archer began, his tone calm and composed. "We're going to strafe from Starboard Aft to Port Fore, then execute a High Yo-Yo manoeuvre to position ourselves under the Port Aft. From there, we'll strafe from there to Starboard Fore."

Travis listened attentively, absorbing the details of the plan as Archer continued to outline their targets and priorities.

"You will target first the Starboard Warp Nacelle, Impulse manifold, and the main targeting sensor," Archer instructed, his voice steady and authoritative. "Once the Yo-Yo is completed, your targets are the Port Nacelle, environmental control, and passive targeting sensors."

Travis nodded in understanding, his focus sharpening as he prepared to execute the captain's orders with precision.

As the Roanoke surged forward, poised for combat, Captain Archer's strategic acumen and the crew's steadfast determination set the stage for a decisive confrontation. With their sights set on victory, they prepared to engage the enemy with skill and resolve, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead in the pursuit of their mission.

As the Arctic transport came into range, Malcolm's voice cut through the tension on the bridge. "They're coming into range now, sir."

Captain Archer didn't need to look away from the viewscreen.

"Travis," he commanded with authority.

"Rising on the Y-axis now, Captain," Travis responded, his hands deftly adjusting the controls.

"Target locked," Malcolm confirmed, his tone steady.

"Now, Travis. Boom and zoom," Archer ordered.

The Arctic transport attempted evasive manoeuvres, but it was no match for the speed and firepower of the refitted Roanoke. The transport fired a venomous green energy beam, which struck the Roanoke's shields. The ship rocked, but the inertia dampeners absorbed most of the impact.

"Shields at 90%, sir," reported Malcolm Reed. "That would have almost blown through our polarization fields."

Archer nodded, acknowledging the information.

"Travis, engage manoeuvres."

"Aye, sir," Travis replied, executing the strafing run with precision. The Roanoke strafed the Arctic transport, then banked up at a sharp angle before corkscrewing back to execute the second phase of the attack.

The Arctic transport's commander, recognizing the danger, retaliated with multiple green energy beams. Each beam hit the Roanoke's shields, but the advanced defences held firm.

"Shields holding," Reed reported, his tone filled with determination.

The Arctic transport dropped out of warp, its nacelles ruined and its engines sputtering. Unable to breach the Roanoke's shields, the enemy ship fell back on a desperate strategy.

"Sir, I'm detecting a large build-up of Thalaron Radiation," Reed announced, his face turning pale. "Their sublights have just fired—they're coming straight at us."

"Travis, pull us back—emergency warp, any direction. Get us out of here!" Archer commanded, his voice urgent.

Travis's hands flew over the controls.

"Aye, sir!" he responded, initiating the emergency warp sequence. The Roanoke's engines roared to life, and the ship surged forward, leaving the Arctic transport and the deadly Thalaron radiation behind.

The Roanoke emerged from warp, the stars blurring back into sharp focus as the ship settled into its new position. The bridge crew breathed a collective sigh of relief, their tense expressions easing slightly.

"Status report," Archer requested, his voice calm but resolute.

"Shields holding at 75%," Reed replied, scanning his console. "I've got long-range sensors locked onto the transport ship."

Archer nodded, as Reed brought the tactical display up on the main screen, the sensor data was fluctuating wildly and the only one that wasn't was the rapidly increasing output of the engines of the ship.

then they watched as the ship sent out a shock wave and it vaporised off their screen, a sense of cautious relief washing over him.

"Good work, everyone," he said with a smile of relief, he tapped the comm in the arm of the chair and contacted the engine room "Damage report."

As the damage reports began to filter in from all decks, Captain Archer couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in his crew and the Roanoke's performance. This was an unscheduled diversion, yet the ship had held its own remarkably well. The speed and manoeuvrability upgrades had proven to be a major boon, allowing them to evade most of the enemy's weapons, and the shields had withstood the brunt of what they couldn't dodge.

Archer reviewed the reports on his console, noting the minor damage to various systems and the commendable resilience of the ship's shields. He knew that Command would be pleased with the Roanoke's performance, particularly in a real combat scenario.

"Engineering, status report," Archer called over the comm.

Commander Tucker's voice came through with a reassuring drawl.

"We're holdin' up just fine, Cap. Minor damage to a few systems, but nothin' we can't handle. The engines are purrin' like a kitten."

Archer smiled at the familiar voice of his old friend. "Good work, Trip. Let's get those repairs underway as quickly as possible."

"Aye, sir. We'll have her patched up in no time," Tucker replied confidently. "I just hope Captain Smith ain't too onery about this detour."

"I'm sure he'll understand," he assured his old friend. Archer turned his attention back to the bridge crew. "Travis, excellent job on those manoeuvres."

"Thank you, Captain," Travis responded, his face lighting up with a mixture of relief and pride.

"Malcolm, well done with the weapons. Your precision targeting neutralized them expertly," Archer continued, addressing his armoury officer.

"Thank you, sir," Malcolm replied, his tone as stoic as ever but with a hint of satisfaction. his console beeped taking his attention away from the Captain "Sir, I'm Detecting the Cumberland she's dropping out of Warp."

The Cumberland dropped out of warp, just ahead of the Roanoke. Her hull bore the scars of the recent battle, with one of the nacelles trailing smoke-like drive plasma, reminiscent of a Victorian blast furnace spewing pollution.

Captain Archer could only shake his head at the older ship's state. The Cumberland had taken the brunt of the assault, and the damage was evident.

"Quite the beating," Archer muttered, his voice tinged with a mixture of admiration and concern. Admiration of the toughness of the old ship and concern for her crew. The Cumberland was a testament to the resilience of her crew and the indomitable drive of Commander Drake.

"Open a channel to the Cumberland," Archer ordered, his tone firm.

"Channel open, sir," came the reply from communications. Not Hoshi, he reminded himself, she was still on medical leave, it was strange seeing someone else in her spot at this time of the day.

"Commander Drake, this is Captain Archer. We're standing by to assist. Your ship looks like it could use a hand." The viewscreen flickered to life, revealing the weathered face of Commander Drake. Despite the weariness in his eyes, there was a steely determination there that Archer had always admired.

"Thanks for the offer, Johnny," Drake replied, his voice steady despite the static interference. "We've taken a few hits, but we're still in the fight. I could use some of your engineering expertise to patch up our systems."

Archer nodded, and Drake's expression grew more serious.

"We had to glass the base as soon as they tried to breach quarantine," Commander Drake said, his voice crackling with static before the transmission cleared up. "But the transport got past us." He wiped the sweat from his brow. "Good job on that, by the way. We caught the tail end of your engagement."

Archer nodded; his expression grim.

"They were surprisingly tough."

"Command wants a report ASAP," Drake continued. "Fleet Intel also wants an update."

"Understood," Archer replied. "We'll dispatch a team to help with repairs and escort you back to the space dock repair slip. They'll get my report when we're both back safely."

"Thanks, Johnny," Drake said with a sigh. "Luckily, we're still in the system. We've blown our warp manifold and the coils."

Archer turned to his bridge crew, his mind racing through the logistics of the next steps.

"Travis, prepare for close proximity manoeuvres." he turned towards his armoury officer "Malcolm, coordinate with Commander Tucker and get an engineering team over to assist with their repairs."

"Aye, sir," Travis and Malcolm responded in unison, each moving swiftly to carry out their orders.

"Bridge to engineering," Archer said, pressing the comm button. "Trip, we need a team ready to assist the Cumberland. They've taken heavy damage and need immediate support."

Tucker's voice came back with the familiar Southern drawl. "Got it, Capin. We'll get 'em patched up and ready to move. Sending a team over now."

As the Roanoke moved into position alongside the beleaguered Cumberland, the engineering team prepared to transport over with essential tools and parts. The transporter beam shimmered, and the engineers materialized on the Cumberland, quickly setting to work under Tucker's guidance.

Archer watched the activity on the viewscreen, his mind already drafting the report Command and Fleet Intel would demand.

The implications of the Arctic base and the attempted escape and Thalaron radiation self-destruction. Whatever secrets that once laid beneath the icy surface of the Arctic were now lost forever with the mysterious hostile transport and its advanced weaponry.

"Ensign Flagg, prepare to send a preliminary report to Command," Archer instructed the temp comm officer. "Highlight the critical points: the quarantine breach, the destruction of the base, the transport's engagement, and the current status of both ships."

"Yes, sir," Flagg replied, her fingers flying over the console as she compiled the report.

"Captain," Malcolm called out, "we've established a stable link with the Cumberland. Repairs are underway, but it's going to take some time to get them warp-capable again."

Archer nodded. "Understood. We'll start back for Earth at best sublight speed. Keep me updated on their progress."

The bridge fell into a steady rhythm, Archer took a moment to reflect on the day's events, knowing that the true scope of what they had encountered was still unfolding. The Arctic base, the alien transport, and the mysterious Thalaron radiation all pointed to a larger puzzle that they had just begun to piece together.

"Captain," Travis said, breaking into Archer's thoughts, "course plotted and ready for escort manoeuvres."

"Excellent, Travis. take us home," Archer said, his voice firm but calm.

As the Roanoke and the Cumberland slowly moved off for their return journey, Archer felt a surge of determination. They had faced a formidable threat and come out stronger for it. Now, it was time to collate the data and see how much tuning the Roanoke needed before she was fully combat-ready.

The aftermath of the skirmish had provided invaluable insights into the performance of the Roanoke's new systems. Archer's thoughts turned to the data collected during the engagement: the efficiency of the upgraded impulse engines, the resilience of the new shields, and the precision of the new weapon systems.

Each element would be scrutinized, by a full team of engineers and Command officers determined to take apart all decisions that lead to the battle as well as the battle itself. Archer knew how Command was which is why he preferred deep-space assignments.

Too many flag officers with too much time on their hands Monday morning quarterbacking his every move, most of them haven't commanded a ship in over a decade, so he would have to defend his strategy over and over again in front of at least three different boards of inquiry and play politics, something he hated.

The engineering teams worked tirelessly, on the Cumberland, patching up the most critical damages and stabilizing systems for the journey back to the space dock. Commander Tucker's team on the Cumberland had their hands full the damage to the manifold could be patched easily enough, but the coils needed outright replacements, something the Cumberland couldn't do as they didn't carry enough spares for that many coils, something not usually an issue as they could usually fabricate new ones with their facilities on board.

But as they were in the Sol system and only twelve hours away from the space dock they decided to fabricate them there, sending a message out to the starbase to begin the fabrication process so they could just swap out the damaged ones for new ones.

Archer's thoughts briefly returned to the Arctic base and the mystery that had unfolded there.

The quarantine breach, the subsequent destruction of the base, and the hostile transport's aggressive actions hinted at a deeper, more sinister plot by someone, where were they trying to go? he wondered.

The analysis of the Thalaron radiation left over from the ship's self-destruction was enough to get his head spinning. what was the nature of the transport's weaponry, and how had they made the ship so powerful?

As they moved through space at impulse speed, Archer's mind was already planning the debriefings and meetings that would follow their return.

Command and Fleet Intel would demand detailed reports, and Archer wanted to ensure that every piece of data and every observation was meticulously documented… as if he had nothing better to do all week.

The Roanoke's performance had been impressive, very impressive, making short work of the transport. Even with its upgraded weapons, he hated to imagine how tough the ship could have become in time.

"Sir, we're getting a comm from space dock." Archer was pulled from his musings. He had been in his temporary ready room writing the report before his mind had danced away with his train of thought.

"Pipe it through here Flagg."

"Aye Sir."

his small computer table screen changed from the United Earth Logo to the face of an angry-looking Captain Smith.

"Captain Archer," he said not coldly but clearly not amused.

"Captain Smith."

"You do know that the Combat tests were scheduled for Next Tuesday, right?"