Ride-Along: The Hard Way
Posted on 26 Mar 2023 @ 11:27am by Chief Petty Officer Ozanna Isuri
Edited on on 06 Feb 2024 @ 8:17pm
Mission:
M3 - Into the Deep
Location: USS Wasp, Loki System
Timeline: MD 09 0730 immediately following "Ride-Along: Roster Changes"
3012 words - 6 OF Standard Post Measure
According to the in-system non-emergency flight plan guidance, the micro jump Tann engaged was a low warp of three point three, so what would have taken a split second at true interstellar cruising rates, instead was a ten minute ride from Obsidian Command, drawing a chord across the sphere of operations surrounding the Loki system: from the Station's current position in orbit over Loki III, past the star, past several planetary orbits and skirting at an incline over a dense belt of asteroids to trek all the way to the edge of town as it was— the outskirts of the ort cloud. Or what Isuri thought of as "the 'burbs" for comets peeling through their big ellipticals and for the more lazy and scattered rocky remains.
Braedyn enjoyed flying craft the size of the Wasp. They were a nice balance of speed, maneuverability, durability, and firepower... when they were properly designed and built. This was was properly designed and built.
As they closed in on their destination, Braedyn turned to Isuri, grinned, and winked.
"Captain," he said. "I seem to have accidentally put us on course to collide with an interstellar object of some kind." he turned back to the helm. "Oswalt? Be a dear and plot me a course correction... manually. No need to panic. If you get it done in 90 seconds from my mark, that should give us 30 seconds to make the correction. And... MARK."
Isuri shifted in her seat, going tense with the urge to call off the detour lesson, but she grit her teeth instead. How else would Oswalt learn? Holodeck drills certainly didn't carry the same urgency as the approaching rock in the viewer did. But Oswalt usually relied on the computer. He'd done alright in the Attack on Obsidian Command, she tried to remind herself, even if they had been out of the fight earlier than she would have liked when they lost too many thruster controls. Oswalt had given them a good run but couldn't compensate. He had to learn to think faster. She grin-grimaced.
Oswalt seemed frozen for an uncomfortable few counts at the auxiliary station. He hadn't been prepared for anything when Tann had taken the helm, his heart having deflated with his pride. But eventually the shock in his nerves signaled his brain and he lurched into pulling up the manual controls. They always seemed alien to him, with all the yaw pitch and trim angles and velocities live feeding too fast to really comprehend. He tried to figure out which one of the lines were most relevant, his heart pounding in his ears.
While he was second guessing himself, the Wasp was still on a collision course. "Mr. Oswalt...." Isuri prompted. It almost didn't matter which direction the young pilot picked, so long as he would pick one. Clearly he had not been ready, and the added pressure of being measured by Tann and watched by Sikan wasn't helping the poor kid's nerves.
Finally Oswalt sent degrees of pitch and yaw to the helm that would bring them out of the path of the asteroid. Isuri watched him as he deflated and let go of the breath he'd been holding. Her own grip on the arm of the chair remained as she waited for Tann to see it through.
"Excellent work young man," Braedyn said as the information came up on his console. "Yes, this should do nicely." His fingers flew over the helm console and the ship gracefully avoided the space debris and slowed to impulse. "Captain, I am happy to announce that, with the help of young Oswalt, we have arrived safely at our destination. Thrusters on station keeping, awaiting orders."
"Mr. Nehrim," Isuri said. "Let's have rock Sixty-three-eighty-one on screen— any signs of life or power generation? Mr. Stillwell, tactical scans, including the surrounding objects and debris."
“Aye, Captain,” Dylben replied, his hands moving over his controls. “Asteroid six-three-eight-one onscreen.” The image flared to life on the viewscreen. Even amplified and enhanced as it was, it looked like little more than a dull, gray rock floating in the black expanse of space. “Not much to look at, huh?”
“You were hoping they’d string some lights out for us?” Dave Boltri replied. “Maybe a sign that says, ‘Bad guys here, join us for Taco Tuesday?’”
From his place at tactical, Stillwell glanced up towards Ozzie. “Initial scans don’t turn up much, Captain,” he said, his deep voice a heavy rumble in the confines of the bridge. “No apparent energy signature, no life signs. It looks like just what it is. A rock in space.”
Sikan had been quietly watching from the science station in the corner as the crew did their job. At this point, he pursed his lips. “Mr. Stillwell. If you would, could you tell me the composition of the asteroid?”
Stillwell turned back to his controls, running a scan of the surface. “It looks like…iron, cobalt, quartz…” Stillwell frowned. “And large seams of bakrinium.”
“Do any other asteroids here have similar compositions?”
Stillwell paused, tapping in several commands as he compared scans of the nearby area with the scans of their target. “No, sir,” he said.
Sikan nodded and looked at Ozzie. “Bakrinium is known to have a dampening effect on sensors and transporters, Captain. It’s also not commonly found in the area. One asteroid in a belt with its own unique mineral composition? I find that…implausible, at best.”
“You think they, what, brought this asteroid here to hide out in?” Boltri asked with a frown.
“It’s only logical. Why spend the time and resources to render an asteroid invisible to scans when you can simply bring one with the natural properties you require? A deeper scan may give us the answers we require.”
“And it may alert them on that base and they’ll scramble their fighters at us,” Boltri said.
“Yes,” Sikan agreed. “Though I do believe that was our intent from the beginning.”
Ozzie had to silently admit to herself that she and the rest of her team were unlikely to have reached the conclusion about the asteroid being transplanted to the system, at least not without analysts from the station having some fun with the readings.
Without looking at Sikan, she evaluated the coolness around the frame of mind he was projecting. It was the sense of experience and a high level of interest, more than the practiced Vulcan indifference she would have expected to pick up. It was like hint of passion that she caught from others with strong areas of interest, in kind with Tann's quiet delight in pilot training.
She exhaled and then pulled her uniform tunic straight. "Put us on alert alert, Mr. Stillwell. Weapons ready." The lights switched color and Ozzie saw everyone prepare their stations for engagement. "Run the scans."
"Helm streamlined for combat maneuvers... or evasive action if we decide to make a run for it," Tann said. "Oswalt, attention to orders. When facing multiple enemies, it's easy to get scrapper lock on the immediate threat and forget about the other craft, allowing them to maneuver you where they want to to go. Your job is monitor our position and heading relative to any enemy craft and space junk and their position and heading relative to ours. Think several moves ahead. Make sure they're not about to box us in or forcing us into an intercept course advantageous to them and disadvantageous to us. Understood?"
Oswalt nodded in a circular pattern, processing all that before he found his voice. "...Yeah. I mean, Yes Sir. Don't get boxed in. Ten-four."
"Weapons ready." There was a loud whine in the decking, reminding everyone that they basically had their chairs bolted to the housing of the warp generator over-which the phaserbanks were directly tied in with compact plasma manifolds. "Phaser banks charged. Switching from passive to active scans." Stillwell intoned. There was a slight flutter of light in the false image coloration of the view screen as small particles of dust around the asteroid refracted in the rays. The imaging began to build up statistics and measures as the active array got back the results...
Sikan sat back down at the science station to help interpret the sensor results as they poured in. “The asteroid contains the aforementioned elements, including trace amounts of nickel, cadmium…Perhaps increase the scope to a wider band, Mr. Stillwell.”
“Adjusting scans,” Stillwell said. “Sensors…” There was a pause as he interpreted his readings.
“Don’t leave us in suspense, Ricky,” Boltri said, his voice tight.
“Don’t call me Ricky,” Stillwell shot back. “I’m reading some unusual ionic signals, Captain. I think it’s a power source.” He glanced back at Ozzie. “The signal is intensifying. Reading multiple energy fluctuations, now.”
“It looks like they know we peeked through their windows,” Dylben muttered.
When Stillwell spoke again, the usually laid-back man’s voice was tense. “Fighters detected, Captain. Four…no, seven signals.”
Tann's fingers glided over the helm console again. "We're free and clear to maneuver. Stand by Oswalt. Things look like they're about to get sporty. Shall I begin an attack run, Captain?"
"No, hold." Starfleet rarely took the first shots. If conflict could be avoided, that was the best path forward for everyone. "Shields to full. Maintain weapons lock. Don't let any of them go to warp. Keep us moving circumspectly outside of them, sheepdog style— broad sweep. Mr Nehrim, open a channel—" She waited for the tell-tale computer chirp affirming that Dylben had her live on the broadcast, then came to her feet, more to feel her own confidence and project it in her voice. "This is CPO Ozanna Isuri, Captain of the USS Wasp. Unidentified vessels, you do not have Starfleet clearance in this system. Stand down and identify yourselves."
Nehrim took a deep breath, waiting. With a shake of his head he replied, “No response, Captain. They’re not responding to our hails.”
There was an instant of quiet on the bridge, nobody speaking and the only sound the hum of the Wasp’s engines and the alarm klaxon. It seemed to settle in all at once what was about to happen. “Their weapons are powering up and locking on to us, Captain,” Stillwell said, his calm voice tense.
“Looks like it’s not taco Tuesday after all,” Boltri muttered to himself.
The Betazoid looked to the side where the stoic Vulcan remained watchful. "Permission to fire, Commander?" She asked urgently. Not having the authority herself to fire (unless fired upon), Isuri would have radioed back to base, but her ranking officer happened to be present.
“Granted,” Sikan replied, his face and voice as calm and placid as it was just a few moments ago.
"Mister Tann, Please bring us back around," she said. "Mr. Stillwell, Lock onto each of them, go for their weapons and Engines. Give us a phaser spread on everyone, so none of them mistake our meaning."
"Understood, Captain," Braedyn replied, his fingers nimbly working the helm controls. Stillwell, I'll give you a good attack run. Don't miss. You'll make me look bad."
Isuri felt the Inertial Dampeners tested with the suddenness of the about face, as if her ass lifted a little bit out of the chair on a fair ride.
Stillwell called out, “Aye, Captain,” his large hands flying over his console as he prepared a firing solution. His stomach flip-flopped a little bit as the intertial dampeners kicked in with Tann’s maneuvers. It wasn’t often one served on a ship this small, where you could really feel it as the ship flew. “Phasers locked and…firing!”
The Wasp let loose with a burst of phaser fire, the whining hum audible in the small bridge. Sikan watched the results in the science viewfinder, absorbing sensor data and scanning the small ships that were swarming towards them. Onscreen, the fighters’ shields flared brightly as the phaser beams struck them. Several of the fighters reacted quickly, peeling away or banking to avoid the phaser fire, but Stillwell scored multiple hits, draining shields as he did.
"Mr. Nehrim, inform Obsidian Command we are engaged and relay our sensor data. Ask the tower to scramble a few fighters for us in case we need them." Isuri knew it would be a few minutes before they could launch and make the jump, so it was best to ask ahead. There was even a chance the fly boys might make it before the party was over, she considered as the targets began to dish their own volley.
“Aye, Captain,” Nehrim replied before the ship rocked under the first assault from the fighters.
The fighters swooped around and toward the Wasp, making sure to spread out as they did to prevent phaser or torpedo locks that could destroy more than one of the fighters at a time. By splitting the ship’s attention and forcing them to focus on one ship at a time, the others could swarm and attack. “They’re all over us,” Stillwell said as the fighters fired burst after burst at the small Starfleet vessel. “I can’t lock on to more than one or two at a time.”
“They’re fast as hell,” Boltri said.
“Shields down to 82 percent!” Nehrim called out.
"Okay," Tann said. "Enough of this crap. Let's turn the tables on them, shall we?" his fingers flew over the helm controls. "Everyone hang on to your favorite internal organ. Oh, and you might want to increase power to the internal dampeners... a lot."
Since the other option was to get blasted to bits, Tann didn't wait for a response. He began a series of maneuvers most pilots probably didn't think you could do in a Hornet Class. Two of the fighters glanced off of each other, causing both ships to be disabled. One shot his compatriot in the port nacelle, causing a spectacular explosion of the nacelle completely disabling that ship.
"Stillwell," Tann said. "I'm going to send you some coordinates. When I get there, I'm going to slam on the brakes, putting most of these bastards in front of us. With the Captain's permission, could you perhaps shoot them? I would be most grateful."
Isuri frowned. Two out of seven were spinning away, out of the fight. There was still noone crying uncle. She would have preferred something more civil, but they were outnumbered and the nest they’d stirred up was gunning for them. Pretty hard. At this point they were all aggressors and had to be assumed to have deadly intent. “Weapons free. Have at ‘em,” granted Isuri.
Tann nodded. "Everyone hang on to your favorite internal organ," he said, and he began a series of intense aerospace acrobatics. Evasive maneuvers designed to draw the enemy in and line them up the way he wanted. Despite the inertial dampeners and structural integrity field, the crew could feel the frame of the ship straining. Now and again, incoming weapons fire struck the shields, and there were two collisions among the enemy fighters. The last one Tann barely avoided getting hit by an out of control fighter that was knocked off course. "Wait for it, Stillwell... wait for it... on my mark... MARK!"
Stillwell saw it, like he was in a bowling alley and the pins had just come fresh out of the pin setter. He aimed for the two lead birds in the set with torpedoes, and as the bombs sped away, they soon made their mark, blowing the engine assemblies off the lead wings. The fly away debris, tripped their friends into reactionary breaks, folding them into easy clean up volleys of phaser fire first in front of the Wasp's lances, and then from the rear phaser arrays. They just couldn't catch a break.
Isuri was almost agog. She'd never been party to that kind of flying before. She almost told Tann 'well done' except she felt it would be patronizing coming from her, to someone as skilled as himself.
Every single one all seven of the fighters were in varying states of dead in the water. She felt as if there were fewer minds out in the black then there had been at the opening salvo. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but it had been their choice of options.
"Mr. Nehrim. Hail our friends again." When the comm whistled for her to begin she just said. "Fine, well. If you can still hear my voice, consider yourselves all under arrest. There will be someone come to collect you shortly. So much as twitch and we'll have to have a fresh word. Captain Isuri, out." She hadn't felt confident about flatly referring to herself as captain of the ship before. But with that performance... she felt proud of her little crew. "I hope you were paying attention, Mr. Oswalt."
Wide eyed, the young pilot nodded repeatedly until both of his chins shook in agreement.
"Wonderful. Mr. Oswalt, plot a sentry station in the immediate area while Mr. Nehrim radios the outcome to the station. We'll make sure no one crawls away or recharges anything until they get someone here to book them."
When Oswalt fed the plot to the helm console Tann nodded in approval. "Well done, young Oswalt. We'll make a true pilot out of you yet. When you have a moment, review the flight recordings of this little dust up. Analyse my flying and be prepared to tell me what you think I did and why you think I did it. Placing us on station now, Captain.""
Oswalt followed through, working through his own awe, and feeling a growing sense of interest. With the real deal right there in the pilot's chair, Oswalt's overblown bravado was dead inside of him, leaving him sure he was not, and had never been worthy of all his bragging and seeing himself more honestly than ever before. He stole a glance at his new hero and wondered... would Tann actually teach him?
