| Author | Message | ||
     Cmdr. J. Darek Smith |
Nine months. At the shuttle's maximum speed of warp three, it would take him nearly nine months to return to Reor. He was alone with his thoughts, alone with his recently enhanced - but already brilliant - strategical mind. With the addition of the symbiant to his life, the former Starfleet Marine felt that he had definitely gained something special, something more than just the sum total of a half-dozen lifetimes. Craig Fel, formerly of the Marine detatchment aboard the starship Coronado, couldn't help but feel somewhat superior to most of those he was leaving. With the exception of Commodore Kor and Savant, no one had as much access to experience and knowledge as he had. Certainly there were no slouches on Coronado. He admired and respected practically everyone there for their cunning, bravery, and loyalty. But he still felt that as a joined Trill, he was somehow - somehow above all of that. And yet here he was, carrying out a suicide mission that any one of them could have done. But he was the best. He knew that was ultimately the reason that Commnader Smith had picked him. With his access to lifeltimes of knowledge and wisdom, with his natural talents at flight and strategy, he was the obvious choice. Certainly the hole he had dug himself into before the joining had played a role in putting him into this position. But he knew - KNEW - that he was chosen because he was better than everyone else. He adjusted his course, hoping to shave a few weeks off of his journey. Only hours out from Coronado, and he was already becoming bored with the trip. ----------- Light. Darkenss. Heartbeats. The Emissary. The Child. Brie. Coronado. Danger. Pain. Emissary. Reasurance. Peace. Destiny. Purpose. Watch. Learn. ----------- Commander Jared Darek Smith, executive officer of the starship Coronado, could not believe what he was seeing. A dozen more Pfhor destroyers were dropping into the Peace system, and they had but one goal in mind. The destruction of Coronado and her two sister frigates. Evasive actions were underway, and the ship was surviving. But Smith doubted that she would last much longer given the circumstances. Commodore Kor's explanation that the three frigates were fighting a holding action to distract the Pfhor and keep them away from the real attack had finally convinced Smith to stop complaining to the Commodore about the danger they faced. He knew now that a hell of a lot more was riding on their staying in-system than their escape. Making his way across the shaking CIC, Smith nodded understanding at the Trill commodore. Lora Kor nodded back, his eyes holding determination - and possibly a hint of fear. Smith knew that the fear was not for his own life but for the lives of everyone in the Whitestone taskforce and for the success of Aldur's battle nineteen lightyears away. Smith knew that because his fear was the same. --------- The starship Panache dropped out of slipstream on the outskirts of the Hayashi system. Moments later the support ships in her task group, Khitomer and Brilliant Dawn, dropped in beside her. The three ships arced towards the neutronium ring that moved with an ever-expanding cloud of superheated plasma. Their shields flickering under the assaut, Panache and the two smaller ships moved in close enough to snag the ring with tractor beams. "The Traxati hypergate is secured, Admiral." Rear Admiral Dev Wallace nodded silently at the special operations officer's report. His eyes made brief contact with those of the captain, his younger - though no-less brilliant sister. Captain Beth Wallace straightened her tunic as she stood. "Helm, bring us about to two-one-seven mark zero-six-niner. One third impulse until we are clear of the nova cloud." A tap. A chirp from the helm console. The mighty ship surged forward at one-twelfth the speed of light. Thanks to the near-instantaneous link between Panache and the support ships allowed by modern subspace communications, all three craft accelerated at the same rate, turned at the same moments, and pulled the massive, dense ring out of the fire. It was then that the Klingons struck. Brilliant Dawn, her shields already weakened by the pasasge through the most dense parts of the growing nebular cloud, shuddered visibly under the barrage from the trio of B'Rel-class ships. The tiny Nova-class science vessel - even upgraded as she had been to handle deep space, long-term exploration - was unable to withstand the attack for more than a few seconds. A few seconds was all the rest of the attacking force needed. A massive Negh'Var-class warship decloaked and opened up on Panache. The Intrepid-class Federation starship - an admiral's flagship - withstood the attack far better than her support vessel had. The three ships released their tractor beams, and Panche and Khitomer moved in to rescue Brilliant Dawn. The Negh'Var and the three B'Rel's pounded the three Federation shis. And it was not until it was too late that Admiral Wallace noticed what had happened. "Helm! Bring us about, three-four-seven mark two-niner-one! Tactical, lock phasers on the nearest target and fire at will! Standby full torpedo spread!" The bridge crew hurried to carry out the Admiral's orders, most not having seen what he saw at the modified situations monitor at the back of the bridge - four Vor'cha-class battlecruisers had decloaked and locked their own tractors onto the Traxati gateway. Panche's phasers lashed out, striking one in the aft. But it was not enough. Torpedoes rained out of Panache's forward launch tubes, smashing into powerful shields. But it was not enough. Six minutes later - ironically at the same moment that the Whitestone task group was beginning their assault on the Pearce system - the battle was over. Panache retreated with Khitomer in tow. Brilliant Dawn had been evacuated and self-destructed. Damn the Klingons, Dev Wallace cursed his enemies. Damn them all. Now how was he supposed to help Brian Aldur get back home? ---------------- Christian D. Clem '01, aka "Aggie Commander J. Darek Smith, XO, USS Coronado Rear Admiral J.D. "Dev" Wallace, CO, Task Group 5.3 Captain Craig Serrold Fel, former Wing Leader, TFW-47, Thunderbirds, USS Coronado Ungtae Brie, non-corporeal lifeform |