[USS Charon, Bridge]
Had she been a human, the hair on the back of her neck might have stood up at this point. As it was, the young Vulcan simply became very still indeed, gazing at the dark red shape on the viewscreen through eyes that looked out and inward at the same time.
Instincts that had saved her ancestors – distant and less so – from becoming an impromptu Le-Matya snack were clamoring loud enough for all her senses trying to expand, but it was as illogical as it was pointless. They were not being stalked by a large hungry feline, but something far more menacing; and the fact they neither knew how large the force pursuing them was nor what precisely they had planned once their prize was within reach did not help matters much.
And yet, the tension on the bridge seemed almost tangible, like the scent of tin on the air or a grating sound just beyond the verge of hearing. Humanoids shifted near imperceptibly, breathing patterns appeared forced, voices giving status reports had an edge of trained and calculated nonchalance.
All but one.
Why Savant even bothered to summon her hologram, Sakarra did not know – the AI would be perfectly capable of operating the console without making her presence known. Logic suggested it was simply a visual confirmation and mayhap meant to make it easier for the other crew to interact. In either case, if the lifeform behind the dark haired figure seated at the console before the young Vulcan experienced any apprehension, it was beyond the humanoid senses to detect.
In the periphery of her vision, the avatar seemed to – not flicker, but shift in a manner one would be hard put to describe, just a split second before Charon's sensors alerted them to multiple new readings. Sakarra had seen shapes like this before, the unmistakable shimmer of cloaked Warbirds entering a nebula. But these were not cautiously feeling their way into the magnificent indigo swirls. They came striding, descending on their lethally wounded prey like the birds their shapes were meant to emulate.
So many. Someone had wanted to be certain indeed.
"Warbirds incoming," Savant intoned casually, lifting a hand to summon a holographic display of the event. Hydrogen rippled in the wake of the mighty vessels as they slid near-invisible through the clouds.
The avatar smiled at the sinuform coils of gas, blue-purple in the false colour display. "Twelve at best estimate, approaching at high relativistic. Their approach matches pattern Epsilon; Tactical, I recommend defensive pattern Zeta." The display beside her showed a rugby-play between Charon and the approaching ships, complete with directional arrows, predictive paths, and likely successful strategies.
"All systems are optimal; auxiliary power systems are online." she bared her teeth in a predatory grin, "I'm looking forward to a little Fox and Hound, I must say."
Eithne was watching the events on the view screen as they unfolded before her, her eyes widening at first before they narrowed. Holding her tongue for a moment before she looked over to Savant as the hologram spoke. "Our main focus is going to be protecting the away team... At all costs, as long as the Captain is on that ship we will protect it." She wanted to avoid a confrontation, but if it came down to it, they would have to beam the team off the ship and as soon as they could after, destroy the vessel in question.
Her gaze returned to the view screen again before she looked over to the helm officer, "Guide us so we are between those Warbirds and the Temep`Shar... We will not let them have that ship..." Her orders were then directed towards the Tactical Officer, "Have weapons ready and standing by should they be needed..." She did not have the option of being unprepared.
Finally, she looked to Sakarra beside her. "Commander. Please send the order down to Colonel Thorten to have the fighters ready to launch on command."
The Vulcan gave a silent nod of acknowledgement, placid and unreadable as a slate of marble. Not even when the turbolift doors opened- half expected as it was – did she more than look up briefly and offer a small tip of the head to greet the new arrival.
The turbolift hummed with a tone that seemed much louder than usual as it slid upwards toward its destination. Perhaps its occupant merely had a somewhat finer appreciation for things about him after recent events had profoundly altered his perception. Voices seemed clearer, smells were more poignant, and even touch seemed oddly more acute – yet he could spare no time dwelling on such matters. The task that lay before him was formidable. Some might call it impossible. Yet despite the odds a spark of confidence burned within him holding back the darkness of fear and doubt.
He tugged on the collar of his uniform which was merely a prop for the act that was to follow should the captain's fears indeed come to pass. His fingers grazed the three metal pips indicating his rank. The days of his Naval service seemed like they had occurred in another life. The memories were not unwelcome, in fact many made him quite proud, yet they no longer fit who he had become and what he was now. He was a different person then. Wearing this uniform brought forth many memories both pleasant and harsh – a reason he refrained from wearing them. The past belonged in the past and not in the present. Still – he hoped he could muster the determination of his youth and harness the potential of his experience. A great challenge lay ahead and he would soon discover if he indeed had the character to meet it. Never had the stakes been so high. Swallowing he wondered if this was one of the reasons he had been assigned to this starship. He would soon find out.
The lift slowed and stopped its doors hissing open revealing a bridge soaked in silent tension. It hung in the air like an invisible fog. Stepping from the lift, Commander Ian Lamont, adjusted his uniform and made his way to the center of the bridge. Seated was Commander Eithne and at her side Commander Tyrax.
Ian cleared his throat slightly. "Would I be correct in assuming that the captain has beamed over to the Vulcan ship with an away team and that we have uninvited Romulan guests in the neighborhood?"
Savant turned her level gaze towards the new ships' commander, gesturing at one of the larger holograms that hung about her in great constellations of information. "You're quite correct, sir, "she intoned with a calmness that directly countered the tense mood on the bridge, "we have an away team currently engaged on board the unmoored vessel."
The hologram displayed life signs of the Marines and the other members of the team, along with a very quiet audio soundtrack of their conversations.
She gestured with her other hand, presenting a broader tactical display of the immediate few light years. "We currently have a dozen Romulan ships inbound. They are cloaked, but the poor Captains forgot that we are in a nebula. By analyses of the nebula perturbations, I conclude that we have one D'Dherex class cruiser, 3 frigates, and eight destroyers." She lingered a moment before adding, "I suspect that our flagship is the Endless Sky. She appears to be going directly for the Vulcan ship, while the others will likely intercept us at these co-ordinates." A final hologram indicated Savants' projections on the sub-fleet's movements.
"I see", Ian replied. So the orchestra was engaged, the actors had arrived in were in position. All that remained was for the curtain to be raised on this act that would carry with it repercussions which at this point were impossible to calculate.
"I assume you have read my briefing. Engineering is standing by with its own brand of special effects. I expect tactical can of course handle the fireworks when needed. We will only have one shot at this so everything must go exactly to plan once the Romulans decide to show themselves having all but done so already.
As for the rest, I shall do my part to keep the Romulans talking for as long as possible. I have no desire nor aptitude to command this ship, but I must convince our adversaries that I am in command for this ruse to be successful."
He glanced quickly at Commander Tyrax. He could see her as well as sense a certain filament from her, yet now was neither the time nor place for such things. With a confident smile he turned toward Commander Eithne.
"Commander, with all due respect, I require the use of that chair."
[To be continued …]
Cmdr Eithne Kathris
Executive Officer
Capt Savant
Chief Operations Officer
Ambassador Ian Lamont
Diplomatic Advisor
LtCmdr Sakarra Tyrax
Chief Helm Officer
USS Charon
