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 EFF: The Battle of Sol, Where our paths all crossed...
goodmorning
Posted: Jun 11 2008, 07:45 PM


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Member No.: 35
Joined: 28-June 06



Chapter 1: The Neptune Line

Suchak's Story

==Bridge, USS Habermas, Orbiting Earth, 2398==

The Battle of Sol had begun. The last ditch effort to save all life in the Alpha Quadrant was entering its initial stages on the what had become known as the Neptune Line. The communications channels amongst the panicking Allied forces were overflowing with orders of formations and tactics as they tried to organize a fleet that operated in a dozen different manners with a dozen different languages and with a wide range of abilities.

Sitting in his chair beside Captain Catton, Lt. Commander Suchak privately wondered if the Headquarters in San Francisco, many miles below them, even knew what all the vessels were that had come together to defend it.

“Early reports are estimating just over 200 Borg vessels approaching the Sol system, Captain,” came a voice from behind them. From the hint of fear in the voice, Suchak didn’t need to turn around to know that behind him was a man coming to grips with his impending doom.

The captain paused for a moment. “Then we shall fight in the shade,” he mumbled.

“Pardon, sir?” Suchak queried. It sounded like a quote.

The old man beside him smiled. “Earth history reference, I’m afraid. I was thinking that with so many Borg ships attacking, perhaps they’ll block out the sun. I know, I know,” he said quickly, holding up a hand to stop Suchak’s automatic response. “We don’t actually feel heat or shade in these ships and they won’t actually block out the sun, but its a nice image anyway.”

The Vulcan sat back in his chair, and nodded. He didn’t entirely understand, of course, but he’d learned to accept the obscure references his captain frequently made in the 20 years they’d served together. Catton had been 36 when Suchak had first come to serve under him in the Dominion Wars. Now he was 64, and one of the more distinguished captains that Starfleet still had left. Suchak had found it an interesting study to watch this man, along with several other crewmembers he’d gotten to know well, change and learn as they’d gotten older. Of course, he’d changed as well, but that was a separate matter. He’d not stayed on a single ship for so long since his time on the Mandela half a century ago, and that had only been for 15 years. Catton had always been a good diplomat and a calm decision maker for as long as Suchak had known him. Tactics had been where his skills had been lacking however, and that was where his XO’s wealth of experience served the ship well. Over the years, they'd come to understand each other's methods and how to maximize the advantages in each other's habits.

While it would have been counterproductive to show such an emotional species what his thoughts were telling him, Suchak privately felt that there was about a 22.23% chance that they would survive the coming battle. He’d taken the liberty of preparing a couple of measures of his own should the ship be compromised. He had no intention of allowing these men to die when he could avoid it.

However, the battle had yet to even begin, so Suchak reverted his attention to the screen on the side of his chair, where he was coordinating with the USS Bury on a forked approach to take on Spheres more effectively.


--------------------
Lt. Commander Adrian Thuzzle
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Vendetta

Lieutenant Oliver Almeida
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Broadsword

Colonel Suchak
Wing Commander
USS Biessman

The joy of engineering is to find a straight line on a double logarithmic diagram. - Thomas Koenig

It is wiser to find out than to suppose. - Mark Twain

Burn the land and boil the sea. You can't take take the sky from me. - Firefly
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goodmorning
Posted: Jun 15 2008, 06:23 AM


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Joined: 28-June 06



Part 2: Oliver

==Room 369-D, Toulouse Medical Center, France, Earth==

Ensign Oliver Almeida sat with a group of other Starfleet crewmen, all of various ages and professions, hastily revising medical terminology and tools in order to better serve in the bloody conflict ahead. He along with many other crewmen found themselves superfluous to requirements in a battle which required little in the way of intelligence gathering. While coordination was proving difficult, he would likely only get in the way. Hence he, and other intelligence, science, archaeology, astronomy, and similar staff with prior medical training were in France, where many of the massive emergency medical facilities had been set up.

A pair of actual doctors were in the room with them, explaining the different manners in which to inject a hypospray if the patient was uncooperative. Oliver listened intently, but at the same time his eyes scanned the room, reading the faces of those around him. He recognized three ensigns in the corner from the Academy, but the rest were all older, coming from all sorts of backgrounds. Most seemed afraid of what was coming. News had just filtered in that the battle would begin in a day or so, maybe sooner. This was their last hope. There was a small sense of futility about the whole affair as they learned how to save lives. If the battle was lost, all the lives they saved here would have been better off dead, as they would simply be assimilated into the Collective.

Oliver leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, letting the lecture drift away for a moment. He’d lost a lot of good friends recently, and most had never seen a Borg in their lives. As the news of the war had gotten progressively bleaker, the number of suicides, especially among the young cadets in the Academy, had skyrocketed. He’d never been tempted by the idea, but he’d talked to many who had been, and it frightened him. It frightened him even more than the advancing Borg fleet did. At least he knew how to deal with them.

The doctors moved on to displaying the anatomical differences of the various species they would be treating. The Cardassians, fortunately, were not an issue, as they had their own facility further up the coast. However, many didn’t know the layouts of even the more familiar Vulcan or Klingon anatomies. It was going to be a long night, and an even longer few days ahead.


--------------------
Lt. Commander Adrian Thuzzle
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Vendetta

Lieutenant Oliver Almeida
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Broadsword

Colonel Suchak
Wing Commander
USS Biessman

The joy of engineering is to find a straight line on a double logarithmic diagram. - Thomas Koenig

It is wiser to find out than to suppose. - Mark Twain

Burn the land and boil the sea. You can't take take the sky from me. - Firefly
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goodmorning
Posted: Jun 21 2008, 04:28 PM


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Group: Members
Posts: 421
Member No.: 35
Joined: 28-June 06



Part 3: Adrian

==Main Engineering, USS Canuck, Sector 561==

The USS Canuck drifted lamely through space, debris floating around it. One nacelle had been blown off completely, while the other was simply torn to pieces. There were numerous holes in the hull and life support was only functioning on half of the decks. It was a miracle, considering how practically every other system was destroyed, that the warp core was still intact, which meant they had power for the essential systems.

They had been returning to Earth at maximum warp after a failed attempt to gain an extra ally for the Battle of Sol. The Pirolans, a reclusive race in the Alpha Quadrant, wanted nothing to do with the Federation, unfortunately. Three Borg Spheres had interrupted the Canuck’s return, and nearly destroyed them completely before some last ditch efforts had dispatched the last of the Spheres. The battle had left them defenceless and with nearly half the crew dead, including the ship’s CEO.

Adrian, the ship’s Chief Flight Control Officer, stepped cautiously into the dimly lit engineering bay. Light fixtures swung precariously from the ceiling, and sparks were still flying from half the consoles. He ducked under a fallen beam and approached the engineers, who were in chaos.

“Without their Chief, I’m afraid the engineers will fall to pieces,” the Captain had said to him a few minutes previously. “They’re a very cohesive bunch, I’m told. You have experience in engineering, don’t you? I need you to try and keep them together. You don’t need to do much actual engineering. They need a leader more than they need a teacher right now. I’m counting on you, Ensign.”

“Thanks,” Adrian muttered to himself. He was, to be fair, a decent engineer. But to entrust him with the entire engineering department seemed a bit much.

The engineers before him were a mess. Most had torn uniforms, and a number had a few cuts on them, but Adrian wasn’t in much better shape. The most seriously injured were being taken care of in Sickbay, but by his estimate, about half the engineers remained. Not only that, but they were arguing. No one appeared to be doing anything to repair the ship at all. Upon noticing Adrian, they stopped their haranguing to see what he wanted.

Adrian tried his best to look critical. “So what’s this about?” he asked.

One of the engineers, a lieutenant, looked at his rank and snorted. “Nothing for you to worry about. We’re just re-establishing the hierarchy.”

“With you on top? I don’t think so,” interjected another lieutenant. “You couldn’t find the warp core maintenance hatch with both hands and the MSD.”

“I suppose you think you could do better?”

“Without trying!”

Pandemonium erupted again, and Adrian looked round in frustration. Around the corner at one of the undamaged consoles, he spotted a pair of engineers who appeared to actually be doing some work. He walked over to them.

“Isn’t there an ACEO here?” he asked them.

“Our CEO never got round to appointing one,” the elder of the two replied. “Everyone here seems to think they’re the most qualified for the new vacancy. I’m not quite sure why, since none of them seem to care about this ship more than their careers.”

Adrian smiled and agreed. Then he looked at the man’s collar. “You seem to be the only lieutenant trying to get some work done, along with your friend here. Why don’t you try and get some more engineers back to work?”

“Oh, I’m not a big people-mover, I’m afraid,” he laughed easily. “Organizing isn’t my thing. I just do my job, and I do it well.”

That grated on Adrian just a bit. The man was clearly dedicated to his job, but this was clearly too much for him to do with just an ensign to help him. Trying to do it by himself was almost as useless as not doing anything at all. He smiled politely and turned back to the main group. The arguing was getting more and more heated. Just as Adrian stepped forward to try again, the fight began.

After watching them throw punches at each other for a moment, something inside Adrian snapped. He’d lost all respect for the engineers aboard the ship. He’d spent the last several hours trying to outmanoeuvre three Borg Spheres, and now he’d been sent down to sort out a bunch of engineers who couldn’t organize a party in a brewery. He stormed out of Main Engineering. He returned a minute later, however, having been to the armoury. He had a phaser rifle in his hand and another strapped to his back. The engineers didn’t notice as he approached and stood to the side of the melee. He set the rifle to wide disperse stun and fired, causing the entire group to collapse on the ground. As they struggled to sit up again, he started speaking.

“Hello. My name is Adrian Thuzzle, and I’m your new CEO. Don’t bother to get up just yet. I have something to say. In case you’d forgotten, Earth is about to be swarmed over by the Borg fleet. Everyone we know and love is about to enter the greatest and possibly the last battle of their lives, and here you are, on the other side of the quadrant brawling over who gets to wear the shiniest badge!” His voice had been calm before, but now it was thunderous. He’d never been so angry in his entire life and he showed it, his left hand clutching the rifle so tightly it shook. “You are a disgrace to the uniform you wear and the various races you belong to. I’d shoot the lot of you right now if the entire crew of this vessel wasn’t depending on you to get them home again... if there’s even a home left to go to!”

The beam behind him, as if to emphasize his point, fell the rest of the way to the ground, crashing loudly. He took a deep, shuddering breath before continuing.

“Now, I’m only a halfway competent engineer, but I’m the one in charge. Captain’s orders. I’m not going to try and correct your work, but I WILL see to it that you do your job. Now, it seems that none of you here remember your duty – the one to keep this ship in working order.” He paused to look round at the charred and broken room. “Only two of you here are even trying to do any work,” he continued gesturing to the pair in the corner. “They can’t do it alone, though. I want a report in my hand in 5 minutes detailing exactly what does and does not work on board this ship and I want it prioritized in order of most pressing problems. Get to it now and leave your squabbling behind. There won’t be an ACEO until I decide someone’s worthy of the post.” That speech, though short, had been exhausting, and his voice was quiet again as he finished.

There was a moment’s pause, and then, to Adrian’s surprise and relief, most of them obeyed. He lowered the rifle as they dispersed to find working consoles and the level of noise returned to that of a normal work environment. The two lieutenants who’d been arguing before, however, strode directly up to him, glaring.

“You just shot a dozen Starfleet personnel without provocation!” exclaimed the first, red in the face.

“You’ll be court marshalled for this!” said the second.

Adrian looked at them both in disgust. “Here,” he said simply, handing them each one of the two rifles he had. “I don’t need them now everyone’s working. If I’m court marshalled, then so be it. But until then, I’m your Chief, and you will do your job or be thrown in the brig.”

The two men fumed for a moment, and then strode off to their posts. Adrian leaned against the fallen beam in exhaustion. It had been a long day, and he knew that light-years away, the Allied forces were about to face even longer days.


--------------------
Lt. Commander Adrian Thuzzle
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Vendetta

Lieutenant Oliver Almeida
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Broadsword

Colonel Suchak
Wing Commander
USS Biessman

The joy of engineering is to find a straight line on a double logarithmic diagram. - Thomas Koenig

It is wiser to find out than to suppose. - Mark Twain

Burn the land and boil the sea. You can't take take the sky from me. - Firefly
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TauriDundee
Posted: Jun 22 2008, 07:23 PM


Vendetta MCO / Biessman CO / General Smart Arse


Group: The Brass
Posts: 662
Member No.: 2
Joined: 28-April 06



Part 4: Chris Markon

==Unidentified Runabout, Orion Space. 2398==

Notification had been sent several days ago to withdraw back to sector 001 as soon as possible. Time was running short for the federation, the Battle of Sol was on the brink of beginning. Markon had been sent on a solo run this time. Over the past several years he had ascended to one of the top Operators that Military Intelligence had working for them.

Not to be confused with Section 31 or Starfleet Intelligence the Military Intelligence Division were almost entirely unknown, they recruited directly from the Marine Corps and sent their troops on missions where precision and extreme force were required.

Markon did not know, nor did he care to know, whether the strings above were pulled by Section 31 all he cared about was the mission. This mission was to convince the Orion Syndicate that fighting with the federation is better than sitting idle. Somehow up until now they had avoided any serious conflict with the Borg. Of course that would only be a matter of time.

The problem though was the Orion Syndicate's current leader. A man by the name Ramius who had profited greatly from the suffering of billions of people by selling weapons to anyone interested. Several Civilian factions had armed themselves to save themselves from the Borg, no longer convinced by the Federations abilities to defend them. He was a profiteering despicable individual.

His current mission was to talk with Ramius and use his influence with the Orion Syndicate to bring them into the War. It was critical now more than ever as a last stand effort is being planned.

Chris checked the control console on his right, the cloaking device was functioning normally. He put the ship into Orbit and geared up. He pressed the transporter and arrived in a luxurious office at the top of a sky scraper. He activated his personal cloak and shouldered his rifle. Moving forward he scanned the room ahead. A single life sign beyond. It had to be Ramius.

Markon creeped into the room through an open door and behind Ramius. Locking his rifle in place he grabbed the silenced SIP 45 from its holster. He steadied his breathing before making his move. Grabbing Ramius by the throat he dragged him out of his chair and put the gun to his head. The personal cloak deactivated when contact was made with Ramius. "Hi there" Markon said making a point of pushing the gun harder up against Ramius's head.

Ramius did not show much fear, he asked calmly "What do you want?".

Markon pushed the gun against his head again. "I need you to bring your people to Sector 001 with everything they have"

Ramius smirked "Why would I help you"

Markon removed the safety "Because if you don't I'll put two rounds in your head, then two in your heart and move on to the next asshole that's part of this cluster-fuck you call an organisation"

Ramius grimaced this time "How do you know I won't just say yes and not follow through with the deal"

Markon squeezed at Ramius' throat "Because if that happens I'll be back for you.... think of it this way..... how are you going to be able to do business when there is nobody left to do business with.... you know the borg will want to assimilate you all once they have finished with the rest of us"

Ramius tensed up "YOU DON'T THINK I KNOW THIS...." he yelled "I'VE TRIED TO CONVINCE THEM....."

Markon pushed Ramius away keeping the gun trained at his head "What do you mean you have tried?"

"They won't listen.... they believe that the Borg will leave us alone much like they have now, and that we could do lucrative business with the Borg once they control the alpha quadrant" Ramius replied

Markon holstered his weapon "Who do I need to convince?"

Ramius approached his desk bringing up a profile on his computer "If you can sway this man to our cause then we can organise our fleet and coordinate with the Federation."

Markon downloaded the profile to his tactical tricorder and pressed a button on his wrist control activating the transporter on the runabout.... his partings words "I'll be in touch"


--------------------
user posted image
Lieutenant Colonel Chris 'C.J.' Markon
Marine Commanding Officer
Reapers - Vendetta Marines
USS Vendetta
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
user posted image
Colonel Arron Scott
Commanding Officer
USS Biessman

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We are marines....you ARE our mission!
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goodmorning
Posted: Jun 24 2008, 10:08 PM


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Posts: 421
Member No.: 35
Joined: 28-June 06



OFF: Someone you guys haven't met tongue.gif
ON:

Part 5: David

==Thal’nak Centurion Control Complex, South Asian Continent, Earth==

It had been a hard few months, but David’s spirits were still high. His back ached, and his uniform was permanently dirty, but he felt like he had been useful. The young ensign had been assisting with the construction and maintenance of the various preparations and defences on Earth for the past 6 months since he’d graduated from the Academy. He’d built defence turrets and hospitals alike, repaired countless old motor vehicles to serve as short range transport and reconfigured the matrices of dozens of transporter pads that would be linking defence posts across the globe.

As reclusive and protective as the Cardassians were with their technology, a few engineers from other races had been allowed in to help with preparations. David had been working there for a week now, adjusting the compounds computer systems to resist Borg assimilation attempts more successfully. This was one of the only reasons any Federation engineers were being allowed in Cardassian locations: their experience with anti-Borg technology. Having completed his assignment, he was escorted to the transporters and thanked for his assistance politely by a Cardassian soldier. David didn’t take the exceptionally closed attitudes of the Cardassians personally though. He understood that they wanted desperately to protect their robotics technology. He hadn’t gone there to spy on them or steal their secrets. He’d gone to strengthen the defences of Earth against the incoming invasion. Still, as the transporter activated and his molecules were scattered into the transporter buffer, he couldn’t help having a smile on his face. Spy or not, he’d learned quite a bit about Cardassian technology during his stay there, things he’d write down when he got back and keep safe until after the current crisis. It didn’t hurt to be careful, and he was genuinely interested in learning how the Centurions worked. They were a fascinating piece of robotics engineering.

==Defence Net Node 43, Outside Bangkok==

He rematerialized and headed off to get his next assignment. He would have liked a respite after the intense week he’d spent with the Cardassians, but he knew that his skills were needed now, not later or when he felt like it. There seemed to be a little bit more hustle and lot less talking going on as he moved through the corridors. He walked into the Standing Orders Room and asked for another task.

“Ensign David Nida, reporting for duty, sir,” he said, saluting smartly.

The man behind the desk didn’t look up from his paperwork but gestured towards a huge map on the monitor on the wall, covered in red and green lines representing the web of defence turrets and bunkers across the Earth. “You’ll be on supply and repair duty from now on,” he said. “Pick any section of red line on the grid. Green ones are taken. You’ll be responsible for that section until the end of the battle.”

David looked surprised for a moment, and then his face fell. “Its begun then?”

“Aye, it has.” The man looked up now and David saw his pale, drawn face. He looked down and saw that the man’s hands were shaking. “The Borg have hit the Neptune Line. Whether we all live or die will be decided in a matter of days.”

David smiled faintly, reached over and put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’ve been working in a Centurion barracks for the past week, and building defence turrets for the past 6 months. Even if the Borg somehow manage to get through the entire Allied fleet, the defences here can stop any assault they can make on us. Trust me.”

The man behind the desk sighed and nodded. Whether or not what David said was true was irrelevant. Hearing the words helped. David left him and wandered over the wall. He picked a segment and random and memorized the location. Then, with a parting wave to the still shaken clerk, he headed off to his new posting.
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goodmorning
Posted: Jun 29 2008, 04:22 PM


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Posts: 421
Member No.: 35
Joined: 28-June 06



Part 6: Suchak

==Bridge, USS Habermas, Above Mars==

Strike Force Alpha had been engaging the Borg fleet for an hour now above the dusty peaks of the Martian surface. The Utopia Fleetyards was under brutal assault and SF-A had been sent to keep the Borg occupied as long as possible.

The USS Habermas was one of the weaker ships in the heavy-hitting fleet, but it made up for it in manoeuvrability. Suchak sat in his chair and followed Captain Catton’s lead, barking out coordinates and targets when opportunities presented themselves. The two had fought together for a long time, and it showed in their strangely coordinated manner. Frequently, the captain didn’t need to tell Suchak which target he was aiming for before his XO gave him the coordinates to fire on. It paid off. The Habermas had done more than its fair share of damage to the Borg vessels, although it had stuck to the smaller targets of the Spheres.
Suddenly, a Cube passed overhead and dominated the viewscreen. The ship shook for the first time in the battle.

“Tractor beam?” Catton asked over his shoulder.

The lieutenant manning the sensors behind him checked the readings. “Yes, sir. They’ve got us stuck.”

Suchak looked at the readings on the screen on his chair and raised his eyebrows. “Captain, three Sphere are coming around the Cube in an attack pattern. They will be in range in 25 seconds.”

Catton hesitated for a moment, then nodded to himself. “Ensign Warford, lock all torpedo launchers on the tractor beam. Ready transphasic warheads. Ensign Mathers, prepare for a short range warp jump.”

The ensign turned around in his chair. “The Picard Manoeuvre, sir?” he queried.

“Right. Just because its legendary doesn’t mean we can’t use it,” the captain replied shortly. “Find us a clear path to travel through. Ready Warford? Fire torpedoes.”

Half a dozen transphasic warheads slammed into the side of the Cube. Even with the Borg’s adaptation to the weapon, it still did some impressive damage, severely damaging the side of the vessel.

“Tractor beam down, sir,” Suchak said calmly.

“Mathers, engage warp drive for 1/10th of a second,” Catton ordered.

The Habermas reappeared just on the fringe of the battle. The Spheres, after realizing what had happened, moved on to bigger targets. The Cube was assaulted by a wing of Sovereign-class ships. The Habermas was out of fire again.

“Right. Take us back in, Ensign,” said Catton. “Suchak –“

“ –95.4 mark 3, sir.”

“Right. Fire at will!”

==1 hour later==

Ensign Warford was down. Suchak sat at the Tactical position in his place, and was firing what weapons they still had at a particularly persistent Sphere that had
been dogging them for the past fifteen minutes. It seemed to have adapted to their particular movements somehow and was avoiding their best efforts to lose them and had evaded most of their attacks. Shields were down to 15% and the hull was losing integrity.

Suchak hit the Sphere with a concentrated phaser burst. “Ventral phaser banks are at 4%, Captain,” he called. “Dorsal banks are at 12%. We’ve depleted all but 6 of our torpedoes.”

“We need to get back to Earth and repair, but we have to get this Sphere off of our backs if we want to make it back in one piece. Suggestions, number one?” Catton asked.

The bridge was silent for a minute as everyone thought of a solution. Then Suchak looked across thoughtfully at the ensign next to him. “The Sphere appears to predict our every move. I would surmise that it has adapted not to the ship, but to Ensign Mathers himself. Captain, if you take the helm, the Sphere should lose its advantage and we can loose our remaining torpedoes on it.”

Ensign Mathers looked back at him. “You think the Borg can adapt to me?” he asked.

“It’s perfectly logical,” he replied calmly. “People get to know each other so well that they complete each others sentences, do they not? The captain and I for instance have adapted to each other. Surely the Borg can do the same.”

The ensign shuddered. “That’s just creepy,” he said.

“But reasonable,” said Captain Catton, standing up. He took the helm and brought the ship hard left. “I’ll try and get a clear shot lined up. Suchak, be ready to take it.”

“Aye, sir,” replied the Vulcan and readied the torpedoes.

The Habermas flitted in between dozens of ships, some locked in battle, others drifting derelict. The captain struggled to find an opening to get to a better position against the Sphere which kept firing after them, hitting them far too often. When the shields finally fell, Suchak could see Catton’s jaw set.

=/\=”All hands! Grab hold of something!”=/\= he roared after hitting his combadge. Then he brought the Habermas into a full loop, hitting the entire crew with several Gs of force. Most people on the bridge collapsed who hadn’t braced themselves. Suchak, safe in his chair, saw the Sphere come into trajectory and fired the remaining torpedoes. The Sphere exploded beautifully and the bridge cheered.

“Ensign Mathers, take back your position,” the captain said, standing up. He was clearly relieved that the ship was still in one piece. “Set a course for earth, maximum impulse. We’ve done all we can here.”

The Habermas soared out of the ongoing battle and headed back to Earth. They needed to prepare for round 2, which would likely be a much more desperate struggle than the one they had just had.


--------------------
Lt. Commander Adrian Thuzzle
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Vendetta

Lieutenant Oliver Almeida
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Broadsword

Colonel Suchak
Wing Commander
USS Biessman

The joy of engineering is to find a straight line on a double logarithmic diagram. - Thomas Koenig

It is wiser to find out than to suppose. - Mark Twain

Burn the land and boil the sea. You can't take take the sky from me. - Firefly
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goodmorning
Posted: Jul 4 2008, 07:43 PM


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Posts: 421
Member No.: 35
Joined: 28-June 06



Part 7: Oliver

==Trauma Room 7, Toulouse Medical Center, Earth==

The first casualties had arrived. Shuttlecraft and medical vessels were making desperate runs between Earth and Mars to pick up as many survivors as possible from the ships being destroyed in the defence of Mars and the Utopia Fleetyards, and they’d saved a great many. Medical centers across the world were being inundated with thousands of wounded. Thankfully, most were just superficial burns, easily treatable. It was mainly ships, and not people, that were suffering heavier damage. However, there were still large numbers of trauma cases coming in, with more serious wounds to tend to.

Oliver had been assigned to Trauma Room 7, to be a set of hands for whoever needed them. He’d spent his time handing instruments to more knowledgeable doctors while they tried to perform all sorts of miracles, from removing chunks of metal that had torn into crewmen’s bodies, to resuscitating those who’d been exposed to gases from a malfunctioning environmental system. Oliver saw a few beds wheel by with people on them that looked like they’d been partially assimilated. He’d heard that the top floor was being used to hold people who’d had assimilation begun on them, with a detachment of marines standing by with standard projectile weapons at their disposal. Evidently, the Do No Harm clause was being bent. Marines certainly weren’t bound by it.

“Pay attention, nurse.”

Oliver returned to the task in front of him, apologizing for being distracted and explaining that he still wasn’t used being called a nurse. At least that was honest. It was very strange to suddenly have people address him as a nurse. He was a graduate in intelligence. His place was nowhere near a hospital, unless it was a very specific mission. He grabbed the instrument requested and handed it to the doctor, and watched the procedure taking place. A woman, an engineer by her uniform, had evidently been standing to close to a console that had exploded. A series of light burns had scorched her face and arms, and on top of that shards of the console panel itself had embedded themselves in her skin. Some of the shards looked to have penetrated quite deep. The woman kept coughing, which only seemed to jab the shards into her again more painfully. The doctors were moving fast, trying to get the shards out before one of them pierced an organ.

Oliver wondered how the battle was going. They had little news in the trauma room, except for a few vague impressions from some of the patients. It didn’t sound like it was going well. However, Oliver reminded himself that all the people they were talking to were people who had lost their ships, so obviously they had a bleak picture of what was going on. Still, with so many wounded coming in..... he couldn’t help but wonder how many ships they could possibly have left, and how long it would be before he would need to find a weapon.

The sound of a single shot came from above. Everyone froze for a second before continuing with their work. Apparently, one patient had died from their wounds.


--------------------
Lt. Commander Adrian Thuzzle
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Vendetta

Lieutenant Oliver Almeida
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Broadsword

Colonel Suchak
Wing Commander
USS Biessman

The joy of engineering is to find a straight line on a double logarithmic diagram. - Thomas Koenig

It is wiser to find out than to suppose. - Mark Twain

Burn the land and boil the sea. You can't take take the sky from me. - Firefly
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Ghost
Posted: Jul 6 2008, 08:29 PM


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Joined: 9-June 08



Part 8: Justin

USS Red Cloud (NCC-63306) - Akira Class Fighter Carrier

Second Lieutenant Justin Gimbol lay in his bunk in the fighter pilot's barracks, staring at a dent in the ceiling when he should have been sleeping. He tried not to let it show, but he was terrified and miserable. He had graduated from flight school less than 6 months ago, and was barely clear of probationary flight status. A week ago, the other pilots in his squadron had started calling him "Ghost" because his skin was so pale, and because he was always accidentally sneaking up on them. He hated the name, but they wouldn't stop. It was even painted on his Viper now- "Justin 'Ghost' Gimbol." In flight school, where he had established himself as the class' top pilot, they'd called him "Guns." He wished the pilots here would call him that... at least it sounded tough. His squadron leader told him that no one liked their callsign at first, but that he'd get used to it. "Ghost" hoped that it would happen quickly.

As Justin lay in bed, fuming about his new nickname, he slowly felt the fear of what was really bothering him begin to creep up on him again, pushing its way through his self imposed distraction. There seemed to be nothing that he could do to forget them. The Borg. He'd heard that they had reached the Neptune line, and once they'd crossed it, he would be between them and Earth.

In the academy, he'd seen sensor logs and holograms of them. There was one particular mission recording, in which a drone grabbed a female Ensign no older than he was, and fired nanites into her neck through two wrist mounted "assimilation tubules" that would be burned into his memory forever. For the last week, every time he closed his eyes to sleep he could see the look of pain and fear on her face as implants started to explode through her skin. Sometimes in his dreams these last few nights he heard her screaming.

The Federation had known of the growing Borg threat for some thirty years; in fact, Justin had joined Starfleet to fight them, but no one had told him that he would do this much waiting. Watching them approach over the course of this past week had been torture. Now that they were here though, he just wanted to face them and get it over with, one way or another.

They would be here soon enough, and he was as ready for them as he would ever be.


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1st Lieutenant Justin "Ghost" Gimbol
Day Light Fighter Squadron CO
USS Vendetta
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goodmorning
Posted: Jul 12 2008, 03:49 PM


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Joined: 28-June 06



Part 9: Adrian

==Main Engineering, USS Canuck, Section 562==

Things were still a mess, but at least now they had an engineering department that was actually working on it. They were working hard, but it was tough to even know where to start. Adrian knew his lack of engineering qualifications was hampering his ability to make the right decisions, but he was doing his best. He wasn’t exactly respected because of this by his staff, even with the big display with the guns yesterday, but at least they were doing as they were told.

The captain had asked for a report on their status, so Adrian loaded up the details he’d need onto a PADD and headed for a turbolift.

==Captain’s Ready Room, Deck 1==

“Come.”

The young Adrian stepped into the room and approached the captain’s desk. “You wanted to see me, sir?” he asked.

“Yes, ensign. I wanted to know how you were getting on in Main Engineering. I’ve been hearing some disturbing reports.” He looked curiously at Adrian. “You used a rifle to stun the engineering department into submission, I hear?”

Adrian squirmed. He wasn’t a very good liar. “They were brawling, sir. Literally. Given...my inferior status, I felt I needed extraordinary measures to hold the attention of a dozen people. It was on a low setting, sir, and I gave up the rifle immediately after they had gotten to work.”

The captain watched him for a moment, and then sighed. “Yesterday was... difficult on all of us. There were a number of incidents on the ship like that. At any rate, I hear that Main Engineering is at least functioning now. What systems are still offline?”

Adrian looked confused for a moment. “Well... all of them, sir. We have 3 systems still retaining minimal power: Life support, environmental, and impulse power. Everything else is pretty much totalled.”

The captain was astounded. “That’s all? Why didn’t I know we were in such bad shape?”

Adrian grimaced. “Sir, sensors are down too. We’ve had to check all the systems manually, and that takes a while, so I’m told. We can’t even contact Starfleet to tell them of our status, not that they could help us at the moment.”

“How long would it take to get our communications back online, ensign?” The captain appeared quite agitated now.

The young helmsman checked the PADD and sighed. “It was totally destroyed, sir. It will have to be rebuilt from scratch. That would require the industrial replicators to be working, and,” he checked the PADD again. “They’ll take weeks of work, sir. Even if we put the whole department on it.”

The captain leaned back in his chair. “We’re alone out here then,” he said. “And we have no way of knowing how the battle going on around Earth will turn out.” He sat for a moment, thinking. Then he straightened up. “Well, the industrial replicators are our first priority then. We’ll set down on the nearest decent planet and see what we can do. Everyone with engineering experience will be transferred to your department, and the rest will be set to gathering supplies. You’ve got a long and difficult task ahead of you, ensign, and I wish it didn’t need to be you. However, you seem to have things under control, so things will remain in your control. You’re dismissed, ensign.”

Adrian took a breath. “Thank you, sir,” he said as calmly as he could manage, and walked out of the room. The task ahead of him stretched out in his mind further than he could see. He hoped someone in his department knew how to fix a replicator, because he hadn’t the faintest idea.


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Lt. Commander Adrian Thuzzle
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Vendetta

Lieutenant Oliver Almeida
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Broadsword

Colonel Suchak
Wing Commander
USS Biessman

The joy of engineering is to find a straight line on a double logarithmic diagram. - Thomas Koenig

It is wiser to find out than to suppose. - Mark Twain

Burn the land and boil the sea. You can't take take the sky from me. - Firefly
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goodmorning
Posted: Oct 1 2008, 04:28 AM


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Part 10: David

==Defense Net Section 235, Western China, Earth==

David was tasked with maintaining and supplying the 50 kilometer segment of the Defense Net, the vast array of bunkers, cannons, and tunnels that had been hastily constructed as the Borg neared the Sol sector. The firepower of almost two dozen capitol ships was distributed amongst the various weaponry deployed on the ground, not including the Cardassians’ mechanized infantry projects that they had been working on in their factories. Even with so much firepower at their disposal, the personnel, largely volunteers with little other useful function in the coming fight, seemed less than certain of the outcome of the next few days.

There was little in the way of maintenance to effect before the fight began, so David was using the large convoy truck he’d been requisitioned to stock up each bunker and node with supplies for the coming days – food, drink, and ammunition mainly. At each stop, he’d pause to chat with the defenders briefly, asking them questions about where they were from – mostly local – and what they did, and other little questions about who they were. There were maybe 100 people in a dozen or so locations along the tunnels, and David tried on that first day to get to know them all. They seemed glad for the conversation, as there was nothing to do but wait as the Borg patiently decimated the fleet above Mars. News came intermittently throughout the day, none of it good, and faces became more drawn and grim.

Some tempers, understandably, became a little frayed. As David pulled up to one of his last stops along the tunnel, he saw that several of the men had bruises on their faces and some were rubbing sore knuckles. He made no mention of it as he passed out the supplies and made his small talk. As with the others, he asked them if there was any particular supply they needed, to the usual chorus of “Bigger guns, and Borg-proof armour.” He smiled and said he’d do his best.

As he drove away, he recited all the names he’d learned, trying to keep each face in his mind as he did so. There was nothing to do but wait, and at least talking passed the time.


--------------------
Lt. Commander Adrian Thuzzle
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Vendetta

Lieutenant Oliver Almeida
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Broadsword

Colonel Suchak
Wing Commander
USS Biessman

The joy of engineering is to find a straight line on a double logarithmic diagram. - Thomas Koenig

It is wiser to find out than to suppose. - Mark Twain

Burn the land and boil the sea. You can't take take the sky from me. - Firefly
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goodmorning
Posted: Oct 2 2008, 11:48 AM


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Group: Members
Posts: 421
Member No.: 35
Joined: 28-June 06



Part 11: Suchak

==Bridge, USS Habermas, Above Earth==

“Here we go again.”

Suchak had heard Captain Catton mutter those words hours ago. Although it was obviously not so, it almost seemed like it had been days ago, for the battle had not stopped since he’d said it, one manoeuvre after another, phaser blast after torpedo after manoeuvre after hit after miss after phaser blast. Just as in the battle over Mars, the Habermas was being largely ignored while the Borg focused their fire on the larger, better armed vessels. And Catton was taking full advantage of that, focusing their fire on the smaller Spheres, picking them off one by one and harassing them until they either stopped moving or exploded. Suchak, who for years had handled many of the tactical decisions, found he had little to say in criticism of the captain’s technique. He was, in a word, impressed by how much Catton had learned over their years together. In a very deep part of him, he could almost feel a void where pride would have been, if he felt such emotions.

Once they’d even managed to send a Sphere hurtling into the side of one of the Cubes, to devastating effect. The captain had thumped his chair in delight and the whole bridge had cheered wildly for a moment before the ship had rocked from a hit. It seemed that was what had finally caused the Borg to pay attention to them.

Since then the battle hadn’t been as much in their favour. The aft torpedo launchers were being used far more than the stern as they made increasingly desperate evasive manoeuvres to stay clear of the constant stream of Spheres after them. Whenever they destroyed one, another would soon take its place. Suchak was keeping one eye on the tactical display of the entire battle over Earth, and had estimated that their more devious tactics had earned them a place as one of the most destructive ships in the field, hence the Borg were targeting them. And each time they destroyed a Sphere to save themselves they made themselves that much more of a priority target in the eyes of the Collective. That was their job, however. They had little choice but to keep hurting the Borg, but with each shot they fired they tightened a noose around their own necks. The Cubes would start responding before long, and then they’d really be in a tight spot.

==8 hours later==

The captain was still in his chair, but he was sitting back and watching, trying to rest a little while Suchak took charge. The rest of the bridge crew had been swapped out for fresher minds and bodies. It was turning into more of a marathon than a firefight, and many of the crew were uncomfortably aware of the fact that the Borg needed precious little in the way of rest, whilst the crew of the Habermas was rapidly approaching exhaustion. Most, when told to get some sleep, objected that they couldn’t possibly sleep in this, but more than a few had fallen asleep in the corridors, and had to be dragged into empty rooms out of the way.
Suchak was conferring briefly with half a dozen smaller vessels, Akiras, Sabers, and such, and set an attack pattern to converge on one of the damaged Cubes that was still putting up a fight.

“Ensign set our heading to 32.9 mark 4,” he said calmly. “Wetherson, stand by with attack pattern Omega-8a.” He glanced over to the captain and saw that he’d dozed off. He’d been commanding the ship in battle for more than 12 hours, quite remarkable for a human. He motioned for the engineer on duty on the bridge to carry the captain into his ready room and turned away again, ignoring the ensign’s look of anxiety at carrying the captain to his nap.

The Habermas found its mark quickly and the massive volley of torpedoes from all sides by the group of ships left the Cube hanging lifeless in orbit. It would likely regenerate, but Suchak estimated that it would take too long for it to make any difference in the battle.

==20 minutes later==

“Where did that hit come from?”

“A Cube on our port, sir. Its bearing down on us fast.”

“It seems we finally merit their attention, then,” Suchak said, half to himself. “Evasive plan Delta 4, ensign. Get us out of their path. I’m going to wake the captain.”

He strode over to the ready room and stepped inside without knocking. He got a glass of water from the replicator and shook the captain awake. “The Cubes are targeting us now, sir,” he said quietly. “We don’t have long left now.”

Catton sat up slowly and took the glass from his XO, looking at it critically. “Coffee would have been preferable, commander, but thank you. The Cubes, is it? Is is definitely more than we can handle?" One look from the 100-year-old tactician told him all he needed to know. He sighed and set his jaw. "Fine. We’ll keep fighting as long as we can. Have all the resting crew awakened and have evacuation procedures readied. I won’t lose any men if I can help it. We’ll fight with those on the ground.”

Suchak nodded. “Aye, sir. I’ll see to it.” The ship rocked and he dropped to a knee for a moment. “It seems that Ensign Urie is being less than successful at avoiding the Cube. You’d better get out there, sir.”

Catton glanced down at the glass in his hand, and then dumped the contents over his head and shook himself. “Right. See to our people, Suchak, but don’t launch any pods. We’re not out for the count yet.”

“Aye, sir,” Suchak replied simply, standing and heading for the door. He paused briefly at the edge of the room and half turned to look back at the captain. “Out for the count, sir?”

Catton smiled and laughed softly. “Sports reference. Boxing.”

“Ah, thank you sir. Good luck.”

“You too.”


--------------------
Lt. Commander Adrian Thuzzle
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Vendetta

Lieutenant Oliver Almeida
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Broadsword

Colonel Suchak
Wing Commander
USS Biessman

The joy of engineering is to find a straight line on a double logarithmic diagram. - Thomas Koenig

It is wiser to find out than to suppose. - Mark Twain

Burn the land and boil the sea. You can't take take the sky from me. - Firefly
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