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Bromern Sal
A Shadow
RDI Staff
Karma: 158/11
4402 Posts


Star Trek: The Guardian Saga

The Captain’s Ready Room | The Guardian: Designation NX-76623 | Stardate 51717.9 (09-07-2374) 06:00 hours | Bajor Sector, The Alpha Quandrant, near Inorlia a Class B Planet within two light years of Koralis


Captain Delisle rubbed the sleep from her blue eyes with the forefinger and thumb of her left hand. She sat reclined in her chair, the black-surfaced desk in front of her alive with reports and readings displayed in Starfleet design. She’d been over the information displayed on those reports multiple times since they’d left Earth Station McKinley months earlier. She knew that this mission was a test run of the Guardian’s advanced technology, and that it wasn’t supposed to be truly trying, but something in her trim gut told her that it wasn’t going to be the case.

Starfleet Intelligence had been looking into the disappearance of four vessels while en route to, and leaving, Deep Space 9. Two of those ships were civilian transports, bearing over three hundred souls apiece, one was a Romulan warbird—the first in what she’d learned would be many from their once enemy made ally by the Dominion—and the last had been the Kanamura, a Nebula-class Starfleet vessel with a compliment of two hundred.

Captain Kristin Delisle, newly commissioned, previously Commander of the U.S.S. Nighthawk, and her crew of young souls was now flying through the very space in which these ships had vanished. Starfleet Intelligence had determined that there had to be a Dominion outpost in the area from which small attack vessels could be deployed to bring down these smaller ships in guerilla warfare more suited their new allies, the Romulans, than the upfront and forward nature of the Jem’Hadar. That’s what Delisle and her crew were to investigate a mere eight light years from the Cardassian Union, allies of the Dominion, with nothing between them and the Cardassian fleet but the small fleet posted under Captain Sisko at Deep Space 9.

Leaning forward, Kristin set her jaw and forced herself to reread the operation specs provided her by Lt. Cmdr. Zeagler’s team in operations. She was young for a captain. Barely forty with, long, blond hair that hung to mid back in large, loose sweeping curls and baby blue eyes that most thought were too soft to belong to an experienced officer. She was a very pretty woman with a soft smile on full lips, crisp lines to her features, and an athletic build. It had been something she’d struggled with her entire career, but here she was, the captain of the latest and greatest starship designed by Starfleet specifically for the war. That alone spoke volumes about her skill as Bradbury-class frigates were renowned for their weak undersides, and a captain that could properly manage such a vessel was worth their weight in gold-pressed latinum.

It wasn’t something she let go to her head. She had a crew of 428 people that was under her care. She’d flown them right into the mouth of the beast, and she wasn’t about to have it cost lives. So, she dove into the intel further, each time reading material she’d practically committed to memory, but hoping she’d uncover something that would further secure the success of the mission.

The Captain’s Ready Room | The Guardian: Designation NX-76623 | Stardate 51717.9 (09-07-2374) 06:15 hours | Bajor Sector, The Alpha Quandrant, near Inorlia a Class B Planet within two light years of Koralis





Bridge | The Guardian: Designation NX-76623 | Stardate 51717.9 (09-07-2374) 06:00 hours | Bajor Sector, The Alpha Quandrant, near Inorlia a Class B Planet within two light years of Koralis

First Shift had just started, placing the control of the ship under the captain’s orders. Still, Commander Brock Daman sat in the executive officer’s chair, Captain Delisle’s empty for the moment. Behind him, at tactical, stood Lt. Cmdr. Erick Solina in his gold-accented uniform. Others on shift included Lt. Porl Kanik, the blue-skinned Andorian in charge of the small science department aboard the Guardian, and Lt. Cmdr. Zeagler at CONN.

Zeagler’s favorite, Ensign Ral Tarwin was at the operations station behind Daman and to the left, Ensign Drake Goodhart stood at the security station across from operations, while Ensign Curzon Shral handled the engineering conn, and Ensign Zackery Malton manned the mission ops controls. Brock knew that this shift would include Lt. Tora Delnik in sickbay, and Lt. Angel Wieloch in engineering. The senior officers of those two departments would only join them on the bridge if the alert level increased beyond yellow.

“We’ve reached Inorlia, Commander,” Lt. Cmdr. Zeagler reported without looking up from his console.

“Yellow alert, Ensign Goodhart,” Commander Daman said. “On screen, Ensign Tarwin.”

The viewscreen at the front of the bridge leapt to life, showing the planet they’d just come within a few hundred kilometers of. There didn’t appear to be any cloud cover, and the color of the planet was a dull, reddish brown, pocked with marring meteor craters, and dotted with mountain ranges. There didn’t appear to be any water, no ice, and certainly no snow.

“Report,” Captain Delisle stated as she entered from the ready room and strode up to her chair.

“We’re here, Captain,” Brock intoned dryly. “Inorlia.”

“Looks improbable that there’d be an outpost here, Captain,” Lt. Kanik offered from the science station. “The surface temperature is fifty-five point six degrees Celsius. In some cases, I’m showing free-flowing magma, and the chemicals in the atmosphere are not conducive to life. As a matter-of-fact, preliminary scans don’t show any life forms.”

“This is where Starfleet Intelligence placed the outpost. This is where we look.” Kristin studied the planet for a moment before adding. “Take us into orbit, Mr. Zeagler. Continue your scans, Mr. Kanik. Focus on the poles.”

“Aye, Sir,” was the response, and Lt. Zeagler entered into the computer the coordinates to obtain orbital status.

After some time, Kanik had obtained a more thorough scan and reported, his antennae twitching slightly in consternation. “Captain, it appears that the poles of this planet radiate extreme magnetic residue that is making it extremely difficult for our scans to penetrate.”

“Increase the power,” Brock ordered.

“I’ve done so, Sir, and we’re still not able to penetrate.” The Andorian turned from his station and offered his commanding officers an apologetic shrug.

“Is that normal?” Brock looked over at the small woman sitting next to him, his eyebrows raised.

Kristin shook her head slightly, “Mr. Kanik, adjust the sensors to determine whether the magnetic interference is being generated.”

“A Class-B planet could be so mineral rich as to result in a similar phenomenon,” she explained to her XO. “Could is the key word there.”

“Captain, I’ve adjusted the sensors as much as I am able and it is still inconclusive. I’m sorry.” Kanik shook his head, his antennae even more agitated at having failed his captain.

“Mr. Solina?” Kristin intoned without removing her gaze from the planet. “Two teams, two shuttles. One at each pole, and be careful.”

“Yes, Sir,” Erick motioned to Goodhart and Malton. “You’re with me.”

As the security detail left the room, Captain Delisle made some further commands and within minutes the two teams were gathered at the back of the saucer section in the shuttle bay.

Bridge | The Guardian: Designation NX-76623 | Stardate 51717.9 (09-07-2374) 06:30 hours | Bajor Sector, The Alpha Quandrant, in orbit around Inorlia a Class B Planet within two light years of Koralis





Shuttle Bay | The Guardian: Designation NX-76623 | Stardate 51717.9 (09-07-2374) 06:35 hours | Bajor Sector, The Alpha Quandrant, in orbit around Inorlia a Class B Planet within two light years of Koralis


“Here’s how things stand as I understand them,” Lt. Cmdr. Solina stated loudly from where he stood in front of the two teams. He was a man of above average height, and build with heavy eyebrows, deep set brown eyes, and the lines on his brow and face caused by a stern disposition. There was a contingent of MACO on board, but Solina made it so there was no room to misinterpret how he felt about the jarheads, and whenever possible, he kept them out of team operations.

“Inorlia is a hotbox. It doesn’t look hospitable at all, but the Captain thinks there might be something hiding at the poles. So, we’re going in. Away Team A will consist of Lt. Kavk, Ensign Goodhart, Ensign Malton, Ensign Pierce, Ensign Shral, and Ensign Tarwin will be manning the shuttle. Away Team B will consist of me leading, and the rest of you. We’ll take the South Pole; Away Team A will take the north. Any questions?”

(OOC: Questions can be asked here.)

“Good luck.”

Lt. Kavk was a Vulcan. He stood a little under six feet in height and wore his black hair regulation cut, and trimmed just over his sharp eyebrows. His face was angular with high cheekbones. As Lt. Cmdr. Solina stepped away to lead his team to the shuttle craft designated as their transport, he turned and looked his team over. Each in the security detail had been outfitted with a Type II phaser pistol in holster at their belt, and a Type III phaser rifle. Those not in security carried a Type II phaser pistol and a tricorder. Only Ensign Pierce had an extra pack in his medical kit.

“Ensign Tarwin,” Kavk’s monotone voice accompanied a nod towards the shuttle. This lead to everyone boarding and strapping themselves in with Kavk taking the passenger seat next to Tarwin’s pilot’s seat.

”Bridge to Away Team One,” Lt. Cmdr. Zeagler’s voice echoed through the cabin. ”You are cleared for departure. Be safe, and keep your eye on those instruments, Mr. Tarwin. Those magnetic can really cause them to go haywire.”
Lt. Kavk looked over at the pilot and raised his eyebrows. “A smooth ride would be appreciated, Ensign. Take us out.”

Shuttle Bay | The Guardian: Designation NX-76623 | Stardate 51717.9 (09-07-2374) 06:45 hours | Bajor Sector, The Alpha Quandrant, in orbit around Inorlia a Class B Planet within two light years of Koralis





Posted on 2009-01-24 at 07:24:45.
Edited on 2009-02-06 at 20:57:26 by Bromern Sal

Alacrity
The Tired
RDI Staff
Karma: 291/33
6348 Posts


I'm a doctor dammit, not a MACO

Guardian – Officer’s Mess - 06:00 hours
Doctor Alan Benjamin Pierce had been awake for awhile now. The phantom pain the occasionally came to his artificial legs had been particulars bad last night, even though he knew it didn’t exist. Just a phantom of the mind playing tricks upon you, he would have told a patient, nothing to worry about, it will fade in time. It only came to him at nights now, and usually when he was on edge, but it didn’t change it from happening. He gave up on sleep, showered and dressed and headed from his quarters to the mess hall.

He entered the room and saw that he was alone for the moment. Too early for shift change, he thought to himself. as he moved to the food replicator. “Computer. Fruit cup, not melons, plain yogurt in a bowl and a Raktajino, hot, double double.”

The computer chirped once, “Please rephrase specifications.” Came the feminine voice, “Not familiar with “Double Double”

“Two STU’s of cream, two STU’s of sugar.”

The computer hummed a bit and produced his breakfast. He picked up tray and took it over to the small table nearest to him. He ate quickly, eager to arrive early in sickbay for his shift. Today, Lt. Tora Delnik was going to do a near death stasis application and its revival in simulation and She had asked Alan to assist. He was eager to be part of the procedure, and to show his skills to his superior officer.


Guardian – Sickbay - 06:30 hours
Alan entered the sickbay and looked around. He was surprised to see that the operating theatre was not set up for the simulation. He immediately moved over across the room and approached Doctor Delnik. “Doctor. Were we going to…”

“Change in plans Ensign Pierce. We are in orbit of Inorlia. It doesn’t look hospitable at all, but the Captain thinks there might be something. So, he is sending two shuttles down to the surface so you will be going as medical officer.”

“I’m to be the medic?” Alan asked incredulously.

“Is that a problem Ensign?” The Lieutenant asked.

Alan recognized the danger tone, “No Sir. Caught me by surprise, that’s all. I will get a medical kit and report to the shuttle craft hanger.” He replied smoothly. It Is jut a complete waste of someone of my skills and proficiencies to be on a military away team, but who am I to question orders from my intellectual inferiors.
Guardian - Shuttle Bay - 06:35 hours
“Inorlia is a hotbox. It doesn’t look hospitable at all, but the Captain thinks there might be something hiding at the poles. So, we’re going in. Away Team A will consist of Lt. Kavk, Ensign Goodhart, Ensign Malton, Ensign Pierce, Ensign Shral, and Ensign Tarwin will be manning the shuttle. Away Team B will consist of me leading, and the rest of you. We’ll take the South Pole; Away Team A will take the north. Any questions?” Lt Cmdr Solina asked?

Are we talking something as a Jem’Hader patrol or something as a few Klingon battle cruisers. For one I would pack more stimulants and pain relievers. The other I might as well pack barbeque sauce because we are all cooked. Alan thought to himself but kept his tongue in check. He learned long ago that Starfleet military didn’t like being reminded that they didn’t have the smarts to run the missions. Best to stay quiet and try to be helpful as things fell apart later. He even quietly accepted the phaser issued to him. Hard to remain true to “do no harm” with a deadly weapon in your hand, but he strapped it on none the less. He looked around at the faces of the men around and wondered if they would be all coming back this time around.



Posted on 2009-02-08 at 20:59:17.
Edited on 2009-02-08 at 21:00:16 by Alacrity

TsAh
Bromern's 1st Born
Karma: 13/6
106 Posts


Memories...


Guardian-Officers Quarters-05: 30

Zackery woke up at 05: 30, it was early and he just couldn’t get back to sleep, he hated doing nothing, he would much rather be doing his duty as the Mission Ops Control than sitting around. Oh well, he might as well go get ready for the day. Zackery sighs, he loves his job aboard this ship. He is told it is a special ship, made especially for its purpose, he also knows his family would be proud, if they were still alive- No, don’t think those thoughts, he thinks to himself. It’s been a while since the “incident” happened, but he’s still getting over it. That is why he hates doing nothing, it gives him time to think, he would much rather be doing some work, something to take his mind of things. He rolls over and sits up, rubbing the back of his neck, the time now reads 05: 46, he gets up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stretches as he walks over to the closet, he opens the closet door, looking at all the perfect, clean outfits. He smiles, thinking of the day ahead of him.

Guardian-Bridge-06: 00

“A Class-B planet could be so mineral rich as to result in a similar phenomenon,” she explained to her XO. “Could is the key word there.”

“Captain, I’ve adjusted the sensors as much as I am able and it is still inconclusive. I’m sorry.” Kanik shook his head, his antennae even more agitated at having failed his captain.

“Mr. Solina?” Kristin intoned without removing her gaze from the planet. “Two teams, two shuttles. One at each pole, and be careful.”

“Yes, Sir,” Erick motioned to Goodhart and Malton. “You’re with me.”

“Yes, Sir,” Zackery says, he couldn’t believe it; he was going to go down to the planet! The only planet he was ever on was earth, he new it would be dangerous and all, but a different planet! He smiles as he follows Erick out of the room, a different planet, wow.

Guardian-Shuttle Bay-6: 45

“Inorlia is a hotbox. It doesn’t look hospitable at all, but the Captain thinks there might be something hiding at the poles. So, we’re going in. Away Team A will consist of Lt. Kavk, Ensign Goodhart, Ensign Malton, Ensign Pierce, Ensign Shral, and Ensign Tarwin will be manning the shuttle. Away Team B will consist of me leading, and the rest of you. We’ll take the South Pole; Away Team A will take the north. Any questions?”

“Good luck.”

Zackery accepts his phasers, remembering all the practice he had with it. The excitement was gone; it was replaced with the sinking feeling of apprehension. He wondered what they would find down there, and if he would have the guts to use the phaser. What if he didn’t make it?



Posted on 2009-02-09 at 22:22:58.
Edited on 2009-02-13 at 04:00:50 by TsAh

Cooner
Bromern's 2nd Son
Karma: 1/1
13 Posts


Drake Goodhart

Guardian: Officers Quarters, 04:52

Drake slowly rose out of his bed. He groggily rubbed his eyes, then looked over to the clock: 04:52 hours. Oh well, he thought. It was early but he might as well get ready for his shift on the bridge.

When Drake had first boarded the Guardian he had felt very excited but now, well now, he just felt nervous knowing that if he screwed up it could cost some people their lives. He also felt secure; after all, he was on a Bradbury-class heavy frigate--he just tried not to think of the vulnerable under-side and everything seemed OK.

Standing up Drake started to get ready.

Guardian: Bridge, 06:00 Hours

“A Class-B planet could be so mineral rich as to result in a similar phenomenon,” the Captain explained to her XO. “Could is the key word there.”

“Captain, I’ve adjusted the sensors as much as I am able and it is still inconclusive. I’m sorry.” Kanik shook his head, his antennae even more agitated at having failed his captain.

“Mr. Solina?” Captain Delisle intoned without removing her gaze from the planet. “Two teams, two shuttles. One at each pole, and be careful.”

“Yes, Sir,” Erick motioned to Goodhart and Malton. “You’re with me.”

“Yes, sir.” Drake says. All right! His first mission!

Guardian: Shuttle Bay, 06:45 Hours

“Inorlia is a hotbox. It doesn’t look hospitable at all, but the Captain thinks there might be something hiding at the poles. So, we’re going in. Away Team A will consist of Lt. Kavk, Ensign Goodhart, Ensign Malton, Ensign Pierce, Ensign Shral, and Ensign Tarwin will be manning the shuttle. Away Team B will consist of me leading, and the rest of you. We’ll take the South Pole; Away Team A will take the north. Any questions?”

“Good luck.”

Drake accepted his phasers and flashed a confident grin at his friend, Malton, despite feeling nervous about the possibility of using the Type III phaser rifle in actual combat for the first time.


Posted on 2009-02-13 at 00:39:49.

Bromern Sal
A Shadow
RDI Staff
Karma: 158/11
4402 Posts


Welcome toInorlia

Shuttle PT-2001 | Stardate 51717.9 (09-07-2374) 06:45 hours | Bajor Sector, The Alpha Quandrant, in orbit around Inorlia a Class B Planet within two light years of Koralis


(Die Rolls: Ensign Ral [Pilot Shuttle-Class Craft: 23, 23, 22, 23, 20; Athletics 21] | Ensign Shral [Athletics 17] | Ensign Pierce [Athletics 16] | Ensign Goodhart [21] | Ensign Malton [Athletics 22] | Lt. Kavk [Athletics 16])

The light of the shuttle bay was peeled away from those watching out of the viewports and replaced by the near perfect blackness of space, marred in its absoluteness by the pinpoint stars of visible systems. After Shuttle designation PT-2001 passed through the force field keeping the oxygen within the shuttle bay, Ensign Ral punched in the correct bearing he’d just received from the ship’s computer and guided the boxy craft over the port nacelle before bringing her about to maintain her bearing on the barren north pole of Inorlia. Beside him, in the navigator’s chair, Lt. Kavk began to run his own scans of their surroundings and the quickly-approaching planet.

“I likely have no need to reiterate Starfleet’s planet designation parameters for a Class B planet,” Lt. Kavk stated as he continued to stare blandly at the console in front of him. “Suffice it to say that this is a most inhospitable planet, and we will all be required to don environmental suits before stepping foot on the surface. As we have less than fifteen minutes before Ensign Ral sets this shuttle down, it makes the most sense to dress for the occasion now.

“Ensigns Pierce and Shral,” Ortar finally turned his attention from the information being returned by long-range scans and fixed his matter-of-fact gaze on the doctor and engineer. “You will be first, followed by Ensigns Goodhart and Malton. Once we land, Ensign Ral and myself will don the suits.”

That said, Lt. Kavk returned his attention to the scanning while continued their descent.

The suits to which the Vulcan had been referring were standard issue space suits, perfectly capable of handling the rigors of walking in space as walking on the surface of a planet with an extreme environment. By the time everyone was dressed but the CO and the pilot, Ensign Ral was gearing up for entry into the planet’s atmosphere. Flying a shuttle through the atmosphere was easy when you were already within it. Flying a shuttle through the vacuum of space was relatively easy as well. Transferring oneself between the two was a little trickier, but Ensign Ral managed with relatively little in the way of unnecessary bumps. That’s not to say that it wasn’t bumpy, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been had someone other than Ral Tarwin been at the helm.

After the burn of entry had filtered off, those within the shuttle were greeted by the alien sky of Inorlia. Orange in hue, it was completely clear of cloud cover, leaving the pinpoints of stars clearly visible through the strange coloration. Even Guardian’s orbiting spec of light was visible, should one be in position to look for it. The ground was of a richer red stone, earth, and boulder. There wasn’t a plant to be seen through the viewport; just rocky outcroppings, jutting stone, and dangerous-looking canyons occasionally rising up into sharp mountains.

“I am still unable to penetrate the magnetic interference that was encountered by the Guardian’s long-range sensors, although it would appear that we have some accuracy with short-range sensors. I am able to receive some information at a distance of twenty-five kilometers,” Lt. Kavk announced. Looking up from the console he scanned the quickly passing scenery. “The most logical method for surveying would be to perform a series of passes over designated regions. This is not, however, the most pleasant way—“

The Lieutenant was interrupted by a beeping from the computer. Adjusting some of the parameters of his scan resulted in a slight cocking of his head. “Interesting. Ensign Ral, please bring the shuttle around to a bearing of two point five seven and take it to an altitude of fifty feet.”

Kavk’s instructions put them dangerously close to the unpredictable terrain. It meant that Ral would have to pay very close attention to his flying or they’d end up dust on some mountainside.

“Sensors indicate compressed metals, and an electrical signature just over that rise,” Ortar didn’t indicate which rise he was referring to through the viewscreen, but those within the shuttle could easily see a steeply sloping cliff face rising up before them about five kilometers away. “I am not picking up any further—“

Additional beeping caused the lieutenant to adjust his attention once again. “Brace yourselves,” he said in the typical Vulcan fashion of emotionless instruction. “We have been detected.”

The shuttle shook violently and as the console in front of Ral lit up with warnings and indicators of an abrupt drop in altitude. The pilot found them suddenly skimming the surface of Inorlia while it adjusted in distance from the belly of the shuttle by a mere ten to fifteen feet.

Shields at fifty two percent. Starboard nacelle is leaking plasma. The computer informed them, and Ensign Ral suddenly discovered that the ship’s responsiveness was sluggish as he attempted to adjust their altitude.

“It is a Jem’Hadar fighter, and it is preparing to fire once again.” Lt. Kavk was busy adjusting the shields power to the aft of the shuttle when the little vessel shook once more, jarring everyone in their seats.

Shields at thirty four percent.
Sparks showered those in the rear, tumbling off of their suit’s shoulders and helmets as a panel blew wide open revealing a dazzling light show within the forest of wires and conduits, the panel hanging by a hinge over Ensign Malton’s helmeted head. Ensign Ral knew the shuttle couldn’t out maneuver a Jem’Hadar fighter designed for aerial and sub-zero combat. With the starboard nacelle out of commission he couldn’t speed away, or even gain enough altitude to attempt returning to the Guardian.

“This is Starfleet shuttlecraft PT-2001,” Lt. Kavk had activated the communications relay. “We are being attacked by a Jem’Hadar fighter, and are requesting immediate evacuation.”

The call for help was met by silence.

The shuttle shook violently once more, nearly spilling Lt. Kavk from his seat. “The communications system is damaged. We have to find cover.

“Ensign Ral. Find someplace to put us down, and slow down to one quarter impulse. The fighter cannot match that speed and will have to swing around to engage once more. Perhaps it will buy us the time we need…”

As the rough terrain swept past them, Ensign Ral scanned the reddish rock looking for both a place to set the shuttle down safely, and a place that would offer them cover from the beetle-like fighter that was in pursuit. As the speed of the shuttle was reduced, Lt. Kavk’s knowledge of the enemy craft came in handy, and the underside of the fighter swept over the top of them as the vehicle sped on ahead. Mere seconds later, Tarwin spotted an outcropping with a gentle slope just below it. The rock above was thick enough that it could most likely withstand a couple of phaser blasts, and there were some massive stone pinnacles close enough to provide cover for them if they could make it on foot. The problem was that it was a difficult bit of piloting, but that didn’t deter the young Bajoran.

Sweeping the shuttle about to the port side, Ensign Ral manually brought the ship sliding in under the overhang. It was a close fit, and the vessel was momentarily shaken when a portion of the aft section struck a boulder, nearly spinning the shuttle too far forward before Ensign Ral could readjust their trajectory.

“The fighter is beginning its turn,” Lt. Kavk informed them, his left hand braced against the console to keep him from slamming his face into the hardware.

The shuttle settled with a series of jerking motions followed by a short slide, and then the engines were powering down.

“Quickly,” Lt. Kavk ordered, unstrapping himself and rising to his feet. “There were some canyons nearby within those columns of rock. Make for those and wait for us there. Ensign Ral, I suggest you dress as quickly as possible. We don’t want to be in this shuttle when that fighter returns.”

(OOC: assuming the lot of you obey his orders and open the side door to escape what will momentarily become a sitting duck for the Jem’Hadar’s targeting practice…)

The slope upon which the shuttle now rested was covered with a thin layer of red silt mixed with a scattering of small chunks of rock from the outcrop overhead. The grade of the slope caused some momentary slipping from those spilling out of the shuttle’s belly, but it was quickly adjusted for, and the four Starfleet officers made short work of the distance between them and the pillars of rock that Ral had spotted, and Kavk had ordered them too. The whole while casting nervous glances at the sky.

Within the shuttle, Ensign Ral and Lt. Kavk slipped into their suits as quickly as they could manage. Ortar had set the computer to monitor the Jem’Hadar’s approach vocally, and as they’d sealed up their suits the ship’s pleasant female voice announced that the enemy ship had completed its circle and was on approach once more.

“I suggest that you run, Ensign.” Lt. Kavk ordered, pushing Ral Tarwin through the large shuttle door and onto the slope. The Vulcan followed on his heels, raising his phaser rifle towards the approaching purple and gray vessel, and firing off a couple of useless shots that went wide.

Ensigns Shral, Pierce, Goodhart, and Malton had achieved the first of the pillars some forty meters from the ship when the Jem’Hadar fighter fired its massive disruptor cannons. There were four loud expulsions of energy from the canons at the nose of the ship. Encased in brilliant, deadly energy, the cannon shots sped towards the shuttle. Two of the bolts struck the slope in front of it, sending rocks flying while the next two struck the shuttle squarely just before the fighter darted overhead. The concussive blast from the cannon fire and the subsequent explosion of their shuttle sent Ensign Ral stumbling forward, his back arched against the sheer force of it. He was lifted a couple of feet into the air and flung forward by a good five meters where he hit the ground and rolled. The air was knocked from his lungs and the world was tumbling about him through his helmet’s visor as he rolled downhill before coming to rest approximately thirty meters below the column of rocks, still on the slope.

From their perch, the four ensigns watched their pilot’s circumstances worsen, and their CO receive much the same treatment. When the concussion passed they were left with the shuttle in fiery ruin, Ensign Ral slowly climbing to his feet, and Lt. Kavk lying even further down the slope nearly fifty meters away, lying face-first on the ground, his inert body against a boulder.

Inorlia (a Class B Planet), North Pole | Stardate 51717.9 (09-07-2374) 07:05 hours | The Guardian remains in orbit around Inorlia a Class B Planet within two light years of Koralis within the Bajor Sector, The Alpha Quandrant,




Posted on 2009-02-16 at 00:08:46.
Edited on 2009-02-16 at 00:09:14 by Bromern Sal

Alacrity
The Tired
RDI Staff
Karma: 291/33
6348 Posts


I'm a doctor Dammit, not a soldier.

“Brace yourselves,” The Lieutenant said, “We have been detected.”

The shuttle shook violently and Doctor Pierce clung to the sides for dear life. “What the hell?” he spoke out loud from the sheer shock of the situation.

Shields at fifty two percent. Starboard nacelle is leaking plasma.
Although he had been through many “combat scenarios” in training, nothing in simulation ever came close to the real life trauma and panic. He knew all to well that if things went wrong, the computer wasn’t going to restart the program. He held on tight to his seat.

“It is a Jem’Hadar fighter, and it is preparing to fire once again.”

Shields at thirty four percent.
Sparks flew over the doctor as a panel blew open and the circuitry beneath overloaded. Evasive maneuvers anyone? thought Pierce as he shielded his eyes automatically, Divert all auxiliary power to the shield!
“This is Starfleet shuttlecraft PT-2001,” Lt. Kavk had activated the communications relay. “We are being attacked by a Jem’Hadar fighter, and are requesting immediate evacuation.”

Right! Call for help. Bet they are jamming our communications.
“The communications system is damaged. We have to find cover.” The Lieutenant suggested as if this was a mail run.

Ensign Ral was a good pilot for he was able to out maneuver the fighter and land the craft.

“Quickly,” Lt. Kavk ordered, unstrapping himself and rising to his feet. “There were some canyons nearby within those columns of rock. Make for those and wait for us there. Ensign Ral, I suggest you dress as quickly as possible. We don’t want to be in this shuttle when that fighter returns.”

Dr. Pierce didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed his medical kit and ran for the cover with an eye behind to make sure no one fell or was injured in the flight. Ensigns Shral, Goodhart, and Malton made the first of the pillars when the Jem’Hadar fighter fired on the shuttle. The concussive blast from the cannon fire and the subsequent explosion of their shuttle sent Ensign Ral and Lt. Kavk stumbling forward. They were lifted a couple of feet into the air and flung forward to the ground rolling. Ral was approximately thirty meters below the column of rocks, still on the slope while Kavk was further away and not moving anymore.

Without a thought to his personal safety, Pierce was on the run towards the injured men. “Ral! Kavk!” he yelled out, hoping that both would respond to his voice.

OOC: Don’t want to assume too much here. Pierce will go to Ral first, make sure he is stable and then move to Kavk. Of course if he is being fired upon, that might change his plan of action.


Posted on 2009-02-18 at 20:07:45.

TsAh
Bromern's 1st Born
Karma: 13/6
106 Posts


On the Planet

Shuttle PT-2001 - 06:45 hours - In orbit around Inorlia, a Class B Planet
Wow, what a view. This was one of the many thoughts that were zooming around in Zackery’s head as he looked at the distant stars out in the vacuum of space. The nervous feeling that Ensign Malton had been dealing with had passed some time ago, being replaced by a feeling of excitement. He was now in a much better mood, and was having an animated conversation with his good friend Drake.

“Ensigns Pierce and Shral, you will be first, followed by Ensigns Goodhart and Malton. Once we land, Ensign Ral and myself will don the suits.”


“Aye, sir.” Zackery said as he reached for the suit. He had a rather rough time of putting on the Starfleet spacesuit with the constant bumping of the shuttle, but it could have been worse. We could be getting shot at, and crash. With that happy thought he worked at fastening the final closures of his suit.

BANG!

The whole ship shook, catching Zackery by surprise. Falling backward he hit his helmet against the wall with a thump and a clang of metal on metal. A little dazed from the impact he asked, “What happened?”

Shields at fifty-two percent, Starboard nacelle is leaking plasma.
“Wait. What?”

“It is a Jem’Hadar fighter, and it is preparing to fire once again.”

Shields at thirty four percent.
“Wha-“ Zackery was interrupted by the sudden burst of electricity over his head, the sparks washing over him, as he jumped back into his seat glad he hadn’t procrastinated putting on his suit. He reached up with a gloved hang to try and stop the flow of the electricity, but, not being a mechanic in any way, failed.

“This is Starfleet shuttlecraft PT-2001, we are being attacked by a Jem’Hadar fighter, and are requesting immediate evacuation.”

The shuttle shook violently, almost throwing Zackery into Goodhart’s lap.

“We have to land!” Zackery shouted, almost in unison with Kavk who had basically just said the same thing. “We have to land!”

“Ensign Ral. Find someplace to put us down, and slow down to one-quarter impulse. The fighter cannot match that speed and will have to swing around to engage once more. Perhaps it will buy us the time we need…”

After some excellent flying from Tarwin, and some additional bumping around, the shuttle slows to a stop.

“Quickly, there were some canyons nearby within those columns of rock. Make for those and wait for us there. Ensign Ral, I suggest you dress as quickly as possible. We don’t want to be in this shuttle when that fighter returns.”

“But sir; what about you?” Zackery inquired. Under the penetrating gaze from the Vulcan, the ensign did as he was commanded to do without further question.

Ensign Malton sprinted from the shuttle, stumbling on the sloping ground, with his phaser at his side and his rifle in hand held across his chest. Arriving at the canyon, he whirled around just in time to see the shuttle explode, sending both the pilot, and the lieutenant flying to the ground. Zackery’s breath caught in his throat when the shuttle exploded, to be released only when Ensign Ral rose painfully to his feet.

Where is the Lieutenant? There, by the boulder…why isn’t he getting up? He waited for Kavk to show any sign of movement, or consciousness at that, but when none was shown he sprang to his feet and sprinted from his cover towards the prone Vulcan laying against the boulder.

(OOC: If the Jem’Hadar are still firing at them, then he will try to find the closest cover, and then when the Jem’Hadar passes, run towards Kavk, repeating if needed.)



Posted on 2009-02-22 at 21:12:34.

Cooner
Bromern's 2nd Son
Karma: 1/1
13 Posts


On a planet

Shuttle PT-2001 | Stardate 51717.9 (09-07-2374) 06:45 hours | Bajor Sector, The Alpha Quandrant, in orbit around Inorlia a Class B Planet within two light years of Koralis
The light of the shuttle bay was peeled away from those watching out of the viewports and replaced by the near perfect blackness of space, marred in its absoluteness by the pinpoint stars of visible systems. After Shuttle designation PT-2001 passed through the force field keeping the oxygen within the shuttle bay, Ensign Ral punched in the correct bearing he’d just received from the ship’s computer and guided the boxy craft over the port nacelle before bringing her about to maintain her bearing on the barren north pole of Inorlia. Beside him, in the navigator’s chair, Lt. Kavk began to run his own scans of their surroundings and the quickly-approaching planet.


“I likely have no need to reiterate Starfleet’s planet designation parameters for a Class B planet,” Lt. Kavk stated as he continued to stare blandly at the console in front of him. “Suffice it to say that this is a most inhospitable planet, and we will all be required to don environmental suits before stepping foot on the surface. As we have less than fifteen minutes before Ensign Ral sets this shuttle down, it makes the most sense to dress for the occasion now.


“Ensigns Pierce and Shral,” Ortar finally turned his attention from the information being returned by long-range scans and fixed his matter-of-fact gaze on the doctor and engineer. “You will be first, followed by Ensigns Goodhart and Malton. Once we land, Ensign Ral and myself will don the suits.”


“Yes sir!” Drake replied. So far so good he thought.

Drake had a little bit of a problem, it was kind of hard to put on the suit while the ship was bumping around but in the end he got the suit put on.


After the burn of entry had filtered off, those within the shuttle were greeted by the alien sky of Inorlia. Orange in hue, it was completely clear of cloud cover, leaving the pinpoints of stars clearly visible through the strange coloration. Even Guardian’s orbiting spec of light was visible, should one be in position to look for it. The ground was of a richer red stone, earth, and boulder. There wasn’t a plant to be seen through the viewport; just rocky outcroppings, jutting stone, and dangerous-looking canyons occasionally rising up into sharp mountains.

“I am still unable to penetrate the magnetic interference that was encountered by the Guardian’s long-range sensors, although it would appear that we have some accuracy with short-range sensors. I am able to receive some information at a distance of twenty-five kilometers,” Lt. Kavk announced. Looking up from the console he scanned the quickly passing scenery. “The most logical method for surveying would be to perform a series of passes over designated regions. This is not, however, the most pleasant way—“

The Lieutenant was interrupted by a beeping from the computer. Adjusting some of the parameters of his scan resulted in a slight cocking of his head. “Interesting. Ensign Ral, please bring the shuttle around to a bearing of two point five seven and take it to an altitude of fifty feet.”

Kavk’s instructions put them dangerously close to the unpredictable terrain. It meant that Ral would have to pay very close attention to his flying or they’d end up dust on some mountainside.

“Sensors indicate compressed metals, and an electrical signature just over that rise,” Ortar didn’t indicate which rise he was referring to through the viewscreen, but those within the shuttle could easily see a steeply sloping cliff face rising up before them about five kilometers away. “I am not picking up any further—“

Additional beeping caused the lieutenant to adjust his attention once again. “Brace yourselves,” he said in the typical Vulcan fashion of emotionless instruction. “We have been detected.”


“What?” Drake asked with some alarm in his voice, “Who detected-“ Drake was interrupted as the ship shook violently.

Shields at fifty two percent. Starboard nacelle is leaking plasma. The computer informed them, and Ensign Ral suddenly discovered that the ship’s responsiveness was sluggish as he attempted to adjust their altitude.


“What? We’re leaking plasma?” Drake said now with just a little bit of panic in his voice.

Sparks showered those in the rear, tumbling off of their suit’s shoulders and helmets as a panel blew wide open revealing a dazzling light show within the forest of wires and conduits, the panel hanging by a hinge over Ensign Malton’s helmeted head. Ensign Ral knew the shuttle couldn’t out maneuver a Jem’Hadar fighter designed for aerial and sub-zero combat. With the starboard nacelle out of commission he couldn’t speed away, or even gain enough altitude to attempt returning to the Guardian.

“This is Starfleet shuttlecraft PT-2001,” Lt. Kavk had activated the communications relay. “We are being attacked by a Jem’Hadar fighter, and are requesting immediate evacuation.”

The call for help was met by silence.

The shuttle shook violently once more, nearly spilling Lt. Kavk from his seat. “The communications system is damaged. We have to find cover.

“Ensign Ral. Find someplace to put us down, and slow down to one quarter impulse. The fighter cannot match that speed and will have to swing around to engage once more. Perhaps it will buy us the time we need…”

As the rough terrain swept past them, Ensign Ral scanned the reddish rock looking for both a place to set the shuttle down safely, and a place that would offer them cover from the beetle-like fighter that was in pursuit. As the speed of the shuttle was reduced, Lt. Kavk’s knowledge of the enemy craft came in handy, and the underside of the fighter swept over the top of them as the vehicle sped on ahead. Mere seconds later, Tarwin spotted an outcropping with a gentle slope just below it. The rock above was thick enough that it could most likely withstand a couple of phaser blasts, and there were some massive stone pinnacles close enough to provide cover for them if they could make it on foot. The problem was that it was a difficult bit of piloting, but that didn’t deter the young Bajoran.


Sweeping the shuttle about to the port side, Ensign Ral manually brought the ship sliding in under the overhang. It was a close fit, and the vessel was momentarily shaken when a portion of the aft section struck a boulder, nearly spinning the shuttle too far forward before Ensign Ral could readjust their trajectorThe slope upon which the shuttle now rested was covered with a thin layer of red silt mixed with a scattering of small chunks of rock from the outcrop overhead. The grade of the slope caused some momentary slipping from those spilling out of the shuttle’s belly, but it was quickly adjusted for, and the four Starfleet officers made short work of the distance between them and the pillars of rock that Ral had spotted, and Kavk had ordered them too. The whole while casting nervous glances at the sky.

Within the shuttle, Ensign Ral and Lt. Kavk slipped into their suits as quickly as they could manage. Ortar had set the computer to monitor the Jem’Hadar’s approach vocally, and as they’d sealed up their suits the ship’s pleasant female voice announced that the enemy ship had completed its circle and was on approach once more.y.

“The fighter is beginning its turn,” Lt. Kavk informed them, his left hand braced against the console to keep him from slamming his face into the hardware.

The shuttle settled with a series of jerking motions followed by a short slide, and then the engines were powering down.

“Quickly,” Lt. Kavk ordered, unstrapping himself and rising to his feet. “There were some canyons nearby within those columns of rock. Make for those and wait for us there. Ensign Ral, I suggest you dress as quickly as possible. We don’t want to be in this shuttle when that fighter returns.”


“Yes sir.” Drake said calming down a bit. Then he sprinted as fast as he could from the shovel to the columns of rock. Once he reached the columns he turned around just in time to see Lt. Kavk and Ensign Ral go flying. Drake was relieved when he saw Ral get up but when Lt. Kavk didn’t get up he followed hot on the heels of his friend.

(OOC: If the Jem’Hadar are still firing at them, he will do the same thing as Zackery.)


Posted on 2009-02-24 at 00:50:48.

Bromern Sal
A Shadow
RDI Staff
Karma: 158/11
4402 Posts


Letting you make some decisions here...

Inorlia (a Class B Planet), North Pole | Stardate 51717.9 (09-07-2374) 07:05 hours | The Guardian remains in orbit around Inorlia a Class B Planet within two light years of Koralis within the Bajor Sector, The Alpha Quandrant.


(Rolls: Drake Goodhart [Initiative 17; Athletics 15; Awareness/Notice 21] | Alan Pierce [Initiative 14; Athletics 15] | Ral Tarwin [Initiative 12; Athletics 17; Awareness/Notice 18] | Zackary Malton [Initiative 1 9; Athletics 20; Awareness/Notice 15])

After arriving at the red rock pinnacle’s shadowy edge, Drake Goodhart had slid to a stop on the loose stones, and pressed up against the rough surface of the alien boulder, his phaser rifle held at ready almost instinctively. The Ensign was scanning the skies when he spotted the beetle-shaped fighter sweep into view and begin its return approach. The doctor, engineer, and his friend Zack were all in close proximity having each come to rest in their own fashion, the only thing they really shared in common as far as positioning was concerned happened to be that they were all fairly well covered by the terrain.

Watching the approach, Ensign Goodhart was able to anticipate the pending explosion, and turned his head just slightly within his helmet so as to avoid the stunning glare. So it was that he was the first to see the results of the attack. There they were. Ensign Ral and Lt. Kavk spread out in the loose earth of the hill, the lieutenant’s inert form pressed up against an outcropping boulder. Without even offering a glance towards the aft side of the fighter, Goodhart sprinted from his cover, his rifle held in front of his chest as he made his way towards the Vulcan.

Ensign Shral was either stunned by the loss of their shuttle, or had decided to remain in the relative safety behind the bulbous column he’d positioned himself at, but Ensign Pierce was a bit more duty driven.

“Ral! Kavk!” the doctor yelled out, springing from his cover with his medkit in hand as he raced, first towards Ensign Ral.

Ral Tarwin had experienced worse…luckily enough. He was a little battered and bruised, perhaps even a bit winded, but he would survive. Rising first to his knees, he caught sight of Ensigns Goodhart, Pierce, and Malton racing from behind the rocks towards them. Realizing that they’d precious little time before the fighter would return for a second sweep, he cast about with his eyes until he spotted Lt. Kavk. Stumbling to his feet he waved the others on. “"I'm fine. Get to the LT, we have to get him to cover before that fighter returns."

(OOC: Assuming that Pierce changes direction and makes his way towards Kavk upon seeing Ral rise to his feet and begin to run…)

Zackery Malton was the last of the Starfleet personnel who’d decided to rush to the L.T.’s aid to leave the defensive position of the boulders. He’d watched the attack on the shuttle, and had squinted his eyes against the explosion. When he’d opened them once more, he’d been intent on finding the fighter’s position and marking it when he felt Goodhart break from their position. It wasn’t even a blink of an eye later when Pierce rushed forward calling out after the pilot and the lieutenant, and that’s when Ensign Malton caught the vision of the injuries at the foot of the hill.

Goodhart and Malton had trained together in the Academy, and they were a pretty even match in speed despite Malton’s more muscular frame. They were also faster than Doc Pierce, and Ensign Ral. They were also the recipients of more in depth combat training, so when they arrived at the lieutenant’s position, it took but a glance between them to set up flanking positions and begin scanning the skies for the inevitable return of the fighter. Ral and Alan arrived within a couple of breaths of each other with Ensign Pierce practically sliding to his knees as he came to rest near Lt. Kavk, medical tricorder in hand. The scan would take precious seconds, but the doctor didn’t have time to focus on the pending attack, and moving the Vulcan prematurely could result in permanent paralysis.

With the doctor’s arrival but steps behind them, Ensigns Goodhart and Malton desperately sought sign of the Jem’Hadar attack ship with Malton looking off in the direction they had been flying before being shot down, hoping beyond hope that the ship was still turning, it was Goodhart who spotted the speedy vessel on its return flight.

Inorlia (a Class B Planet), North Pole | Stardate 51717.9 (09-07-2374) 07:05 hours | The Guardian remains in orbit around Inorlia a Class B Planet within two light years of Koralis within the Bajor Sector, The Alpha Quandrant.




Posted on 2009-02-24 at 05:04:17.

Alacrity
The Tired
RDI Staff
Karma: 291/33
6348 Posts


Dammit, I'm a doctor not an stenographer

Doctor Pierce saw the Ensign get to his feet and wave him off. That was enough for him, if the patient was conscious enough to make decisions in a combat situation, then that meant leaving him by triage rules. The doctor continues to move to the Vulcan, hoping for the best but expecting the worst. As he approached, his fears were realized.

Kavk’s environment suit was torn in places and Pierce could see the green blood already seeping through the wounds. He ran as quick of a scan as he could concerning the situation, and it was all that he needed. Internally injuries in multiple places, the spinal cord severally damaged in a number of places, brain functions were shutting down. Kavk wasn’t going to make it and nothing Pierce could do here would save him. He looked the Lieutenant in the eyes, and with a single shake of the head told the Vulcan all he needed to know. Kavk was struggled to speak so the Doctor leaned over to listen to the dying man’s words.

"There has to be a Dominion facility nearby. The--the shuttle sensors were detecting large energy signatures five point two--five point two kilometers north east of our position. This--this is the...only way...to contact...Guardian."

With that his eyes lost focus and his head dropped to the side, green blood frothing from his mouth.

“Damn it!” Pierce exclaimed loudly. He activated his communicator, =^= “Guardian. This is Doctor Pierce! Request Emergency Evac - Stat!”=^=


Posted on 2009-02-26 at 15:00:26.

TsAh
Bromern's 1st Born
Karma: 13/6
106 Posts


Why me!?!

Inorlia (a Class B Planet), North Pole | Stardate 51717.9 (09-07-2374) 07:05 hours | The Guardian remains in orbit around Inorlia a Class B Planet within two light years of Koralis within the Bajor Sector, The Alpha Quadrant.


Zackery was panting, running with all his might towards the inert form of his commanding officer. When ensign Malton arrived at the unmoving body, he quickly scanned the area, made eye contact with his friend Drake, nodded, and each positioned themselves on either side of the stationary body, scanning the skies, and waited for the doctor.


When the doctor arrived Zackery let out the breath he had been holding in. There may be hope yet, he thought, then looked up into the sky. With no sign of the incoming ship, Zackery Malton looked at his friend, and following his gaze, spotted the incoming Jem’Hadar!


“It’s coming back!” he yelled, and as he looked down at the doctor and lieutenant he immediately realized something was wrong.


“Damn it!” Pierce exclaimed loudly, and then shouted a cry for help into his communicator.


“Is he dead?” Zackery asked, naturally assuming the worst, he was about to inquire more when he heard a shout behind him.


"Come on!" Ensign Ral yelled, "He’s dead, there is nothing more we can do!"


Not knowing what to do, the ensign glanced at the body of his former commanding office, then he thought of all the training he went through to get to this point.


“Come on Peirce, Drake, we need to get out of here!” Zackery exclaimed to the two men still standing there, “Stop standing around, he is gone!”


Inorlia (a Class B Planet), North Pole | Stardate 51717.9 (09-07-2374) 07:05 hours | The Guardian remains in orbit around Inorlia a Class B Planet within two light years of Koralis within the Bajor Sector, The Alpha Quandrant.



Posted on 2009-03-05 at 04:53:26.
Edited on 2009-03-05 at 04:54:59 by TsAh

Cooner
Bromern's 2nd Son
Karma: 1/1
13 Posts


......

Inorlia (a Class B Planet), North Pole | Stardate 51717.9 (09-07-2374) 07:05 hours | The Guardian remains in orbit around Inorlia a Class B Planet within two light years of Koralis within the Bajor Sector, The Alpha Quandrant.

Panting, Drake ran as fast as he could towards his crumpled commander. Once he reached the Lt. One glance at Malton told him what to do. Set up positions on either side of Lt.

“Look out it’s turning!” Yelled Drake. “Just pick him up and let’s get out of here!”

Drake then heard Malton shout pretty much the same thing.

“Damn it!” He heard Pierce exclaim. Drake’s stomach tightened, then he heard Malton ask, “Is he dead?” Drake’s stomach tightened even more though when he heard Ral shout, “Come on, he’s dead there’s nothing more we can do!”

“Come on Peirce, Drake, we need to get out of here!” Zackery exclaimed to the two men still standing there, “Stop standing around, he is gone!”

“Okay, then.” Drake said not without just a little emotion. Then Drake dashed as fast as he could to the closest cover.


Posted on 2009-03-05 at 05:36:37.
Edited on 2009-03-06 at 14:59:30 by Cooner

Bromern Sal
A Shadow
RDI Staff
Karma: 158/11
4402 Posts


Lady Luck

Inorlia (a Class B Planet), North Pole | Stardate 51717.9 (09-07-2374) 07:05 hours | The Guardian remains in orbit around Inorlia a Class B Planet within two light years of Koralis within the Bajor Sector, The Alpha Quadrant.


(Dice Rolls: Curzon Sharl [Jury Rig + 7 LUCK + Exploding 10 = 36])

The Jem’Hadar fighter was a sleek vehicle designed for quick maneuvering. Its only downside was the speed at which it had to travel. There was no hover, and in atmosphere, there were no zero-G moves that would allow the vessel to turn on a dime. While this was the saving grace that had allowed the away team time to reach Lt. Kavk’s side, it was also to their detriment as the destructive blaster armament was now trained on their location.

“Look out, it’s turning!” Ensign Goodhart bellowed as the last leg of the enemy fighter’s turn ended and he found himself staring across the sloping valley at the pincer-like front end of the ship.

“It’s coming back!” Malton barked just a heartbeat behind his friend.

Some people state that Time slows down when you’re faced with impending death. In this case, time seemed to speed up for the surviving members of the away team. When the lieutenant died at Dr. Pierce’s feet, relaying to him the logic behind pursuing the enemy facility in order for extraction, the ensign hurriedly made one final attempt at hailing the Guardian before Ral yelled, “Come on! He’s dead, nothing more we can do!”

With seconds left, Zackery pointed back towards the cover from which they’d just come and reiterated the pilot’s observation.

“Come on Pierce, Drake, we need to get out of here! Stop standing around, he’s gone!”

“Okay, then.” Ensign Goodhart acknowledged, helping to hoist Dr. Pierce to his feet with his left arm under the medical ensign’s elbow for support.

Just as Ensign Ral had turned away and began the slippery journey back to where Curzon was still in hiding, the Jem’Hadar fighter zipped overhead, filling their ears with the strange metallic hum of its engines. Its blasters didn’t fire, it didn’t drop any ordinance, and it flew straight over the top of them without any indication that it had seen the four Starfleet personnel scrambling up the pebble-filled hillside. But as they all kept tabs on the path the fighter took this time, they all saw it begin to sweep about once more for another return fly over.

Ensign Ral was the first to slip over the lip of a small crevice that housed the Trill engineer. Dropping to a crouch in the shadow of the large pinnacle, the pilot caught sight of the man typing furiously on his tricorder, a cord running between it and the phaser pistol connecting the two devices. A couple of seconds later and Ensign Pierce slid into the fox hole followed by the two tactical officers.

“I didn’t think it would work, but it looks like it did,” Curzon breathed as he waved the tricorder at his companions. “I altered the sensors to emit a temporary false reading, amplifying it with the phaser’s power cell. It might work for one more pass, but then the weapon will be empty, and we’re back to square one.”

Anyone with even a bit of engineering knowledge knew that what the Trill had done had been nigh unto impossible, and it had most likely saved their lives…for the moment. Now the decision was upon them. Trapped at the north pole of a Type B planet with a hostile atmosphere and Starfleet’s number one enemy about to bear down on them, the away team was without their leader, had no way current method of communicating with Guardian, or the other away team, and was minutes from having their own version of a Romulan cloaking device peter out. According to Lt. Kavk’s last words, there was likely a Dominion facility a little over five kilometers to the north east through some very rough terrain, and they had a little over eight hours worth of air left to them.

Life as a Starfleet officer had its perks…but right now, expanded quarters and extra holodeck time wasn’t looking so appealing.

Inorlia (a Class B Planet), North Pole | Stardate 51717.9 (09-07-2374) 07:06 hours | The Guardian remains in orbit around Inorlia a Class B Planet within two light years of Koralis within the Bajor Sector, The Alpha Quadrant.



Posted on 2009-03-08 at 20:32:46.

TsAh
Bromern's 1st Born
Karma: 13/6
106 Posts


A Bad Day

Inorlia (a Class B Planet), North Pole | Stardate 51717.9 (09-07-2374) 07:05 hours | The Guardian remains in orbit around Inorlia a Class B Planet within two light years of Koralis within the Bajor Sector, The Alpha Quadrant.
Ensign Ral was the first to slip over the lip of a small crevice that housed the Trill engineer. Dropping to a crouch in the shadow of the large pinnacle, the pilot caught sight of the man typing furiously on his tricorder, a cord running between it and the phaser pistol connecting the two devices. A couple of seconds later and Ensign Pierce slid into the fox hole followed by the two tactical officers.

“I didn’t think it would work, but it looks like it did,” Curzon breathed as he waved the tricorder at his companions. “I altered the sensors to emit a temporary false reading, amplifying it with the phaser’s power cell. It might work for one more pass, but then the weapon will be empty, and we’re back to square one.”

Zackery looked at the device the Curzon had rigged, and was really grateful that the Trill had come along. Now what to do? he wondered.

“Didn’t the Lt. say there was a facility north east from—“ Zackery started to say, but then Ensign Malton realized that he was interrupting Ral, so he shut up for the moment and listened to what the Ensign had to say.

"Ok," Ensign Ral began, then took a breath and continued, "We are on our own. The L.T. is dead, we have less than eight hours of life support left, and we can’t contact the Guardian. We have to find shelter.

“Doc, the L.T. said something about a facility to the northeast. I think we need to head out and now before Curzon's device fails and that fighter finishes us off." he quickly gather any supplies and weapons he saw and checking his phazer rifle he stood and looked at the others.

"Well?" he asked.

“I agree fully with him.” Zackery urgently agreed, “But we better hurry, if we don’t we will either suffocate, or get blown to bits.” That was stating the obvious, but he felt it needed to be said. Zackery stood up, picking up his Phaser rifle, “I’m ready whenever you guys are.”

(OOC: Assuming all of the other Starfleet personal do the same, Zackery will bring up the rear while moving from cover to cover, heading in the direction they need to go.)

Inorlia (a Class B Planet), North Pole | Stardate 51717.9 (09-07-2374) 07:05 hours | The Guardian remains in orbit around Inorlia a Class B Planet within two light years of Koralis within the Bajor Sector, The Alpha Quadrant.


Posted on 2009-03-15 at 18:36:58.
Edited on 2009-03-15 at 18:37:55 by TsAh

Cooner
Bromern's 2nd Son
Karma: 1/1
13 Posts


Trapped

Inorlia (a Class B Planet), North Pole | Stardate 51717.9 (09-07-2374) 07:05 hours | The Guardian remains in orbit around Inorlia a Class B Planet within two light years of Koralis within the Bajor Sector, The Alpha Quadrant.
Taking off running Drake saw the Jem’Hadar fighter fly overhead and thought, “This is the end of us.” But then it just flew overhead like they just weren’t there. Taking advantage of this little bit of luck Drake again took off running as fast as he could towards the little bit of cover that Curzon was standing behind.

Ral was the first one to get to the cover, but just a few seconds later Drake slipped in the little crevice just after Pierce heard Curzon breath, “I didn’t think it would work, but it looks like it did, I altered the sensors to emit a temporary false reading, amplifying it with the phaser’s power cell. It might work for one more pass, but then the weapon will be empty, and we’re back to square one.”

“Wow, good job,” Drake complimented him. Now the decision was upon them. Trapped at the north pole of a Type B planet with a hostile atmosphere and Starfleet’s number one enemy about to bear down on them, the away team was without their leader, had no way current method of communicating with Guardian, or the other away team, and was minutes from having their own version of a Romulan cloaking device peter out. According to Lt. Kavk’s last words, there was likely a Dominion facility a little over five kilometers to the north east through some very rough terrain, and they had a little over eight hours worth of air left to them.

"Ok," Ral began then took a breath and continued, "We are on our own. The L.T. is dead, we have less then eight hours of life support left. We can't contact the Guardian. We have to find shelter."

Then Ral looked to Pierce, "Doc, the L.T. said something about a facility to the north east. I think we need to head out and now before Curzon's device fails and that fighter finishes us off."

Without waiting for a reply, figuring they had no other choice, he quickly gather any supplies and weapons he saw and checking his phazer rifle he stood and looked at the others.

"Well?" Ral asked.

“I agree fully with him.” Zackery urgently agreed, “But we better hurry, if we don’t we will either suffocate, or get blown to bits.” That was stating the obvious, but he felt it needed to be said. Zackery stood up, picking up his Phaser rifle, “I’m ready whenever you guys are.”

“I’m ready now.” Drake said simply. Looking to Pierce and Curzan.



Posted on 2009-03-21 at 00:30:12.
Edited on 2009-03-21 at 02:40:19 by Bromern Sal

   
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