There's Cat Hair in my Borg Soup

Posted on Tue Sep 21st, 2010 @ 1:09pm by Lieutenant Jimmy Cooper & Captain Elsie Halliwell & Commander Curtiss Drake & Lieutenant JG Jason Fisher & Lieutenant Commander Dylan Blake

1,042 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Structured Shoreleave - Marchwiel
Location: Bridge
Timeline: Current

ON:

As the morning dawned, it seemed to become another uneventful day on the bridge.

Captain Elsie Halliwell stepped fluidly out of the turbolift, coffee in hand, and glided around the rail and onto the main bridge platform in the centre.

It had been one of the first command shifts of Lieutenant Baker, though it was an honor he did feel like going to sleep now. "Captain," he said as he stood up, "A slight inconsistency in the warp core, I've asked Engineering to look into it..." He couldn't resist a yawn. "...Sorry, have a good shift, Captain." He nodded as he excused himself to go to his quarters for a long overdue sleep.

Elsie shook her head almost affectionately at the junior officer. It had been a while since she had been channelled into mandatory night-shifts, and at times, she was glad of it. The responsibility of a captain never left ones shoulders, and so, in truth, she was always on-duty in some form or other, but thinking back to her early career, the all-nighters were droll.

Jason Fisher arrived on to the bridge shortly after the Captain. Relieving the NCO who had covered the night shift, he quickly reconfigured the console to his standard arrangement. He was still getting used to the new station, but already he had picked up a few useful short cuts.

Stiffling a yawn Dylan Blake walked wearily onto the bridge, nodded sleepily to the present officers before snaking a route to the ops station.
"Morning," he croaked to the bloodshot eyed officer he came to relieve. He grunting in response before summarizing the events of the evening.

Ensign Rogers had taken one of the science stations, and was silently running some diagnostics on the sensors, as his eye got caught by a slight... inconsistency. "Capt'n," he turned around on his seat. "I think our sens'rs 'ave a bit of a pr'blm... I'm pickin' up Borg ships!" The last part was highly unlikely, as the Ranger was lightyears away from the border, and they would've heard about any Borg activity.

"Confirmed, Captain." Added Fisher from the tactical station, his questioning tone suggesting that he didn't really believe what he was seeing either.

Elsie stood up from her chair quickly and shot a glance over to Rogers. Speaking out aloud, she ordered, “Red alert!� as the bridge was descended into a darkened redness. “Let’s not take any chances.�

Instantly even before the klaxon sounded throughout the ship Dylan was sudden very wide awake, with a healthy douse of adrenaline now coursing through him.

"They're gettin' in range, Capt'n." Rogers' mood started to change from confusion to a mild panic.

“Tactical readiness, Mr. Fisher…� Elsie replied, twisting to view him standing at his station.

"Shields up." Fisher replied, "Weapon systems are coming on-line now."

Walking quickly over to the Science station, she hovered over the Ensign as she clutched the side of his console with a white, tight hand. She widened her eyes significantly, an expression that read Why does this keep happening to me? but said nothing of her dismay. Her voice was quick and clipped as she spoke. “Ensign, recalibrate the sensors. This has to be some mistake.�

Ensign Rogers had been checking and rechecking the sensors ever since he found the unlikely reading. "They sh'ld be in visual range now... Transmittin' to viewscreen" To everyone's dismay, two complete Borg cubes came into view.

“We are the Borg,� grated through comm. relays of the bridge and sent a shiver down everyone’s spine. The air seemed still, charged with a fear that electrified around them all.

“Mr. Fisher. Torpedo attack. Full spread.�

Fisher's hands glided over the tactical console as he targeted the Cubes. As he looked at the behemoth ships on the view-screen, all of a sudden his transfer to the security department didn't seem like such a good idea. He took a deep breath and sent the torpedoes on their way, convinced that they would have absolutely no effect.

The torpedo volley hit the forward Borg ship dead on, but it didn't explode. "Capt'n, the Borg ships are... disapearin'." The morning was getting stranger and stranger for the ensign, still trying to figure out what was going on.

On the viewscreen, meanwhile, both Borg ships seemed to become translucent, with the torpedoes flying on into the space beyond. Suddenly, the leftmost torpedo exploded, and with it, the cubes disappeared altogether into the ether.

“Full scan,� Elsie ordered, trembling with both fear and adrenaline. Nothing struck terror into the hearts of any Alpha Quadrant inhabitant more than the Borg’s collective voices, reaching out through the chasm of space, pricking at the ears of the individual.

"Capt'n, I'm pickin' up one of our own sh'ttles... The torpedo 'pparantly got a direct 'it on it... One lifesign, it's 'urt!" Rogers reported.

“Our own shuttle?� Elsie demanded, confused and bewildered.

A few quick taps brought up both the scan results and the database of the ship. "It's... Lieutenant T'kaarch's. He's flown it out this mornin' for a 'test flight' is all it's sayin'." He focused on the scan. "Shields took most of the 'pedo blast, methinks his consol' exploded or summit. I advise transport to sickbay." He still wasn't sure what's going on, but a shuttle was much more manageable then a Borg cube.

Behind the activity Blake snorted with both disbelief and anger at the tiny shuttle that hung in space between the two forces. "Shall I beam the lieutenant to sickbay and tractor beam the shuttle back into dock Captain?"

A fire of fury welled up in the slight captain as Elsie flicked a look to Blake and defiantly nodded her agreement. She shook her head to herself and shook with an anger that coursed through her hot blood, pumping from her quickened heart. She strode boldly to the back of the bridge, gripped the rail with her hand and marched up to the turbolift. “I’ll be in sickbay should anyone need me,� she barked, her voice laced with a foreboding irritation that did not waver as she boarded the lift and commanded “Deck Five,� loudly.

T’kaarch was in trouble. And the entire bridge crew knew it.

OFF:

 

RSS Feed