Refractions: Breaking Point
Posted on 19 Apr 2024 @ 9:51pm by Commander Calliope Zahn & Senior Deputy Marshal: Sven-Erik Lofthammer - FMS & Admiral Zavareh Sepandiyar & Lieutenant Ethan Gunnarsen
Mission:
M4 - Falling Out
Location: Pathfinder, On Patrol
Timeline: MD25 Following "Refractions: Taking a Lickin' "
1937 words - 3.9 OF Standard Post Measure
With a sluggish set of thrusters and the need for Pathfinder to keep her raw aft side out of Revana’s crosshairs, Calliope knew Gunnarsen at the conn had his work cut out for him. Beside Gunnarsen, the kid at ops was doing her best to maintain shield regeneration evenly the rest of the way around, but there wasn’t much to work with now that the phaser arrays were actively draining the power reserves.
Curving the Pathfinder about like a prizefighter guarding their weak side was a valiant goal; in reality, Ethan struggled to keep the battered vessel from shuddering to a complete stop in protest of any it would deem to sharp a turn. They didn’t have the greatest amount of space to spare and the Revana was still taking shots where it could manage. Thankfully Saabs was able to keep up with him, lining up shots to cover as he continued adjusting them into a better line of attack.
Targeting had a big leg up thanks to Chief Edgerton’s mastery at science, which lent tactical enough of an edge to counter a round of enemy torpedoes, taking out all four of the warheads, though it kept everyone busy on defense, unable to strike back while Revana picked at the Pathfinder’s forward shields with phasers.
Ironically, while Pathfinder was nursing her tail, the stolen Defiant was employing mostly aft weapons arrays as, Calliope assumed, their nose was still smarting from tracking the Pathfinder through the gap, and Revana’s pilot was trying to sidewind around Pathfinder.
Saaba ended up tapping out partway through the confrontation, the junior tactical officer having taken a bruise to the head on her station control board, and she’d seen herself down to medical. Seamlessly, Lofthammer filled the spot; Calliope hadn’t had the time to worry about his qualifications for shipboard tactical operations, but the Marshal’s Deputy seemed to be managing well under the circumstances.
As well as could be expected.
Lights winked out in an erratic pattern and came back on again following the latest volley, and Calliope reflexively glanced around at the flicker as the power grid was rerouting around a damaged coupling.
Part of the sensor grid also went down with the rerouting, but when the rebalance completed, those sensors didn’t come back up. The Pathfinder was blind in one eye.
The Engine room called up again and Calliope heard the list of cascading failures and the safety shut downs preventing the feedback from flushing through the reactor.
Practically on top of the Engine Room’s bad news, Corduke was calling in wounded from Sick Bay. “I’ve got wounded pouring in and beaming in from all over the ship, Commander. Something bad happened in the starboard array. Plasma burns like you’ve never seen…” he called out, his trademark snark gone.
This was it. This was the moment. Calliope answered none of the reports, her ears tuned to a high pitch, a whine somewhere in the ceiling, or in her own head, she couldn’t tell. She waited for the comms to come alive with Stanton’s drawling voice. The ETA countdown was running further and further past the estimate given. She knew there could be any number of reasons why. Had she miscalculated their odds, the timing, their advantages? Their disadvantages?
As her bridge crew continued to petition her for responses from every department, the ship rocked with fire.
Keep fighting to the last? Start counting her dead as the damage worsened? Or call it now before it came to that, grovel and see if they fared any better than the crew of the USS Resistance, before they were imprisoned, sold…
Calliope wiped her face with the cuff of a sleeve, considering the worser fate. If they gave themselves up, and if Revana didn’t just rip through them out of twisted vengeance, then how much more difficult a scenario would it be for Stanton when he finally did show up? Trying to sort a scene with prisoners on the Revenant and borders on the Pathfinder? Did she have a choice?
“Miss Rieblin,” she said, quiet and sure. “Open a channel to the Revenant.” She stood again, looking away from the center of the viewer, her face downcast. There came a solemn nod from Rieblin as the hail went through. They were transmitting and being received, even though Reveana wasn’t returning the image.
The battle continued even while the channel was open. The two ships were still exchanging barrages, the deck periodically trembling under Calliope’s feet. She didn’t wonder at the Syndicate captain not equally responding on channel; Revena must have remembered well that Calliope was stalling for time, and wasn’t about to waste her advantages anymore on entertaining Calliope talking. Still she carried on, trusting that Revana would be watching, probably lapping it up with bloodlust as the image of the Pathfinder’s damaged bridge was broadcast.
“The Defiants were forged in wartime,” Calliope said to the comm, her voice, thoughtful and almost distant. She was, in part, talking to herself. Fog from the damaged plasma conduits shrouded her, and sparks occasionally flashed across the bridge. Some of the station holo displays flickered. Others were blackened. Her shoulders slumped and Calliope sighed heavily. “Every crewman that manned a Defiant counted the cost of service, knowing that they were risking everything. Knowing they were riding lightning into the grinder of war.”
Calliope took a few small steps more on the bridge, staggering under the weight of the call she had to make. “You’ve brought us to our breaking point. There’s no use denying it.”
She let a moment hang in the air. The department reports had halted as everyone wondered if their commander was about to order weapons powered down and raise a white flag of surrender.
“Comms, put me through to the Away Team…” Calliope said, while still transmitting to the Revenant. She paused in her slow shuffle as she came to a side station, turning her back to the viewscreen and leaning on the rail with a posture of pained defeat. As she heard the soft chime of the confirmation that the channel was opened, her shoulders seemed to square. “Lieutenant, please execute my previous orders...”
It began as a minute flash in the distance, a small twinkle of a point in the planetary rings, drawing the attention of sensors and auto magnification protocols. With the flash of energy came information, outlining a freighter– the Virgil with her leading section and trailing shipping compartments. Previously hidden by the refractive noise, it was now spotlighted by radiant lights, going off in a timed sequence and betraying the position, blazing with a halo of energetic components. Igniting.
While the light show continued, reaching its brightest point in the chain of charges feeding through the Virgil’s conduits and destabilizing its warp core into a collapse preceding a growing bloom ripping through the ice that had been hiding it, Calliope turned and marched toward the viewer, her countenance reanimated and a snarl on her lips.
“My crew is dedicated to service – voluntary and free. I’m not leaving you one latnium snip for your coffers, let alone a prisoner.” Having said everything she intended to, Calliope cast an arm outward decisively. “End transmission.”
Punching a fist into her own open hand as she turned around, Calliope commanded her crew. “Reinforce shields forward and ventral! Fly in tight, focus attack on her forward launchers and phaser arrays, roll away and show our belly as we come around. Kick out her damn teeth!”
Calliope took her seat as the forward viewer angled, the rings of the gas giant speeding across the screen at an angle as the ship cut a new track. The forces on the ship strained the inertial dampeners once more and Commander Zahn took her chair, digging in for what was going to surely be a costly run.
Gunnersen ran the flight pattern, compensating for the counter direction of their target, and, as intended, the forward assault gave Lofthammer lots of quick, powerful hits at close range, making for the best efficiency of the overheating phaser array and sunk one of the two torpedoes fired, Calliope saw hull plates shearing off the defiant as the fly over was just putting the Pathfinder beyond it. She waited for retaliation as Gunnersen rolled and dropped to one side in relation to the Defiant and, as she expected, Pathfinder’s ventral shielding lit up with damage, all of it issuing from the aft guns of the Revenant.
“Their forward phaser array is out. Disabled a pulse cannon. Nailed one of their torpedo tubes as well.” Lofthammer said, pleased at his work, his own heart pounding in his ears with the alerts blaring and the damage and casualty reports updating. “Let’s hit em again!” The computer blew raspberries over a fresh damage report. “Er, we’ve lost another maneuvering thruster set...” Lofthammer announced, reading off damage from another exchange of phasers.
Gunnersen made no comment on the news. Calliope could see him sweating as he fought sluggish or unresponsive controls. The Defiant had similar maneuvering damage by now, but it was a more agile ship to begin with, and Gunnersen wasn’t winning the ballet.
“Line us up somehow again, head on!” Calliope said, eager to bum rush Revana once more. She didn’t want to show another iota of hesitation or avoidance. Calliope needed Revana to start wondering if she was really the crazier bitch in this fight.
A bright white line representing an incoming trajectory lit up the tactical displays, the name and registry numbers of the USS Texas blazoned over the projected distance. It had just risen over the horizon of the gas giant and was about to be in contact range.
The Revenant caught sight of it as well, Calliope knew, because in less than a minute’s time the firing ceased and the pirate ship broke off combat.
Revana might have been crazy, but she wasn’t stupid. With a fresh Defiant on the scene, the tide had most certainly turned against her.
Without further comment from comms or weapons, the Revenant spun away, picking a navigational direction and, nacelles pulsing to life, seconds later left a warp trail wake before the Texas could so much as reach weapons fire range.
With a kick of her thumb, Commander Zahn switched the red alert off. “Recall the Away Team,” she said, “Prepare to leave the system.”
The faintest of lights still traced away where the Revenant had retreated and Calliope had a sick mix of feelings in her gut about the encounter. It hadn’t ended the way either she or Revana would have liked. It hadn’t ended at all, really. That meant Calliope would have to prepare herself for the very real possibility that, in one form or another, they would reprise this again one day.
In her estimation, Revana seemed the grudge bearing type, and besides, Calliope wasn’t very keen on letting Nezar’s rabid daughter run roughshod around the sector terrorizing people in a stolen Starfleet vessel either. She steepled her hands and tried to find a calm center, but she was still furious inside from the heat of the fight.
“This is not over.”
