Fighting chance

Posted on Jun 14, 2014 @ 12:38am by Lieutenant Commander Aerdan Jos & Thomas Varn & Phia
Edited on on Jun 14, 2014 @ 12:44am

Mission: http://thefrpg.com/sim/missions/id/7

"Fighting Chance" (Continued from "Der Hölle Rache")


Location: USS ARMSTRONG
Stardate: 2.140613.1135
Scene: Bridge

=/\=

"The scientific name for an animal that doesn't either run from or fight its enemies is lunch."
~Michael Friedman
 
=/\=

It was true the crew of the ARMSTRONG was not at all experienced and most still had not gotten uses to life aboard a ship. There were those that had Starfleet parents and had lived on stations and other ships but the nuance of managing their life with that of the ships was still just beyond their grasp. Sylvia Warren, while an engineer had been tasked with staying on the bridge, even if that task was gently coaxed because of her work with Thomas Varn.

She couldn’t help but notice how tense the atmosphere was as Captain Harcourt moved around, checking both systems and her young crew to ensure everything was ready.  To Sylvia, this all seemed unfair, thrusting a bunch of kids directly into danger and lumping the responsibility for the entire things on the shoulders of one experienced Captain.  Maybe fate had sent the PENDRAGON crew to this place at this time for a reason.

The bridge doors swished open from the turbolift, revealing the thin blue form of Commander Jos.  Sylvia looked up, about to offer a smile when she caught his expression.  She knew that expression all too well: something was wrong.

“Commander, has the away team reported ready?” Harcourt queried, straightening to her full height.

The Andorian nodded.  “They are ready for beam down, Captain.”

“Give the transporter room the go-ahead.” She turned away from him, heading towards the ops console.  “Lieutenant Clarkson, as soon as the away team has beamed down, I want you to co-ordinate with helmsman Mron’traga and assume a defensible position.  Run a full tactical scan.  I want to know if anything blips, flashes or squeaks in this system.”

Clarkson, a young human with a focused demeanor gave his captain a nod.  “Yes, Sir.”  

“Carry on.” She affirmed, resisting the urge to give the kid a reassuring pat on the back.  Clarkson was young, but he tempered his inexperience with caution and intelligence.  Rose mused that if he could survive this mission he would shape into a fine officer.

“Captain, do you have a moment?”

Rose Harcourt turned, catching the gaze of the PENDRAGON’s former executive officer and feeling her heart sink.  She didn’t know Commander Jos before this fateful meeting, had never even heard of him.  And in a scant day he had already proved himself both capable and irritatingly perceptive.  “Only a moment, Commander.  What is on your mind?”

“Perhaps we could speak in your ready room.” Aerdan Jos queried lightly, with a polite formality.

She let her lips flatten into a hard, straight line.  Rose knew too well what the question would be.  The answer was easy enough, save the issue that she didn’t know if she could or should confide in Jos.  

Certainly being on the PENDRAGON was a vote in his favor.  The ship had been gone while most of this Neo-Essentialist conspiracy was brewing (at least the parts she had been able to track) and there was no indication that the essentialists were involved.  And so far nobody seemed to expect that part of the PENDRAGON crew would be recovered.  

She had already looked up his record, finding most of it mundane and the rest of it frustratingly vague.  He had served with distinction in the second Dominion war on the PATRIOT, and before that he had served on the enigmatic SHAMERAN.  Which meant large parts of his official history were classified.  On one hand Dupree had never managed to get his sticky fingers into or on the secretive vessel.  On the other hand she knew next to nothing about this man, and that set her ill at ease considering all she knew of the state of the Federation.  

“Follow me, Commander.” she murmured, turning towards the rarely used office.  As they entered the lights brightened slightly and she turned, not taking the time to sit.  “Please don’t ask me why we’re out here again.”

“I don’t have to ask.” Aerdan replied candidly.  “It’s pretty clear you’re being set up.  I would venture a guess this is because you carry sensitive information about high ranking officers which may no longer have Starfleet’s best interests at heart.  Furthermore you have a shipload of inexperienced officers who have connections to key personnel in the Federation.  Should you suffer casualties, whoever you are trying to out will turn around and brand you as their murderer, taking the chance to completely discredit you should you survive this mission.”  He paused, gazing at her with an uncanny accuracy.  “Have I left anything out?”

Captain Rose Harcourt found her jaw dropping slightly.  When she finally recovered, her voice was low and dark.  “No.  No, Commander you have not missed anything.”  Slowly she folded her arms across her chest.  “Which leaves one question: whose side are you on?”

“I’m not on a side.” he shot back.  “I’m a doctor.  I save lives, the lives of good people, honest people and innocent people.  I think your crew is good, honest and innocent.”

She pursed her lips, considering.  For a few long moments her eyes seemed to stare right through him until she reached her decision and spoke.  “How much do you know about the Neo-Essentialists?”

Aerdan Jos perked a snowy brow.  “Not much.  Fundamentalist whack jobs led by Admiral Dupree who tried to hurt a lot of innocent people to ‘purge’ the Federation of ‘bad influences.’”

Harcourt nodded, “close enough.  Dupree disappeared shortly after the CENTURY was stolen and hasn’t been heard from since.  Starfleet closed the inquiry listing his as presumed dead and the movement buried.”  She paused and caught Commander Jos’ gaze.  “It wasn’t.  It’s been going on ever since then, building power in more subtle ways.  I don’t know how far it spreads throughout Starfleet, but I know at least my direct superior - Fleet Captain Callie Nichols - is one of them.”

“Are you sure about that?” Aerdan queried gently

“Are you sure that we’re orbiting NIMBUS III with a boatload of children and no backup?” she shot back acidly.

Chagrined, the Andorian simply let his shoulders slump slightly and nodded his acquiescence.  Captain Harcourt took a breath and continued.  “If I have an ace in the hole - it’s that we found you guys.  It’s the only thing Nichols and her cronies are not expecting.  So, Commander, I have no choice but to trust you to help me keep this ship safe and this crew alive.  So…”  She paused and locked his eyes.  “Can I trust you?”

Aerdan’s gaze didn’t waver.  “You have my word, Captain, that I will do everything in my ability to protect the ARMSTRONG and her crew.”

“Then let’s get back on the bridge and make that happen.”  She gave a short nod of acceptance and headed out.

=/\=

Aerdan found the bridge quite the same as when he left it.  The same ripple of quiet tension.  He skirted back towards Lieutenant Warren as the Captain descended to check in with her science and tactical officers.  “Anything yet?”

Sylvia shook her head lightly.  “I have increased power to the long range sensors.  There’s some unusual readings, but nothing specific.”

“Unusual?” Aerdan queried, looking over her shoulder.  He frowned as the information crossed the screen.  “That looks like a power signature.”

“There is a derelict vessel stuck in orbit around the third moon.” Lieutenant Clarkson spoke up.  “It appears to have been a pirate ship, badly damaged in a skirmish.”

“Pirates are none of our concern.” Harcourt ordered, staring at the viewscreen.  “Monitor that vessel for any unusual readings, but we will not be investigating the derelict unless it moves towards us.”

“Yes, Sir.” Clarkson nodded, delving deeper into his scans.  He had already conferred with Lieutenant Warren and they both agreed that some of the energy signatures coming from NIMBUS III were suspect.  “We are reading some unusual energy signatures, Captain.  Should we raise shields?”

Harcourt rocked on her feet a little.  Having the shields up was prudent, yet it seperated them from the away team.  “Where is the away team?” She turned towards Ensign Larsen.  “Do you still have them on planetary scans?”

The young ensign looked up.  “Thier signatures are breaking up, Captain.  They are entering the cave formations.”

Harcourt weighed her options.  “Mr. Clarkson, raise the shields, keep them up until we get a sign of the away team again.”

“Yes, Captain.”

=/\=

Location: Privateer Ship “ANNABELLE’s LAMENT”
Scene: Bridge

“They just put their shields up.” Evaer looked up from his panel.  

Commander Rainner frowned.  “That won’t let them get their team back from the planet.  Make sure our ground teams know to leave survivors.  Someone has to be pleading for an emergency beam out.”

“Already done.” he nodded grimly.  “The agent reports all things ready, we are monitoring the ground to ship communications on the ARMSTRONG.  So far they have not been able to pierce our cloak.”

“Good.  Stay steady, let Conniston prep that derelict and let him make the first move.”

=/\=

Location: NIMBUS III
Scene: Caves

Thomas Varn tensed as Storm Bomba blew past him, shrieking like a stuck pig.  The science officer didn’t even try to stop the man, as far as he was concerned, the more Bomba was out of the way, the better.  He saw Phia hold up something that looked suspiciously like a flash grenade and gave a silent nod from his hiding place, sheltering his eyes until he could sense the flash.

In the next instant he could hear Cade Foster’s heavy, grumbling footfalls approaching.  The older man was breathing heavily, struggling to half drag, half carry the limp form of Angus O’Malley to cover.  Thomas opened his eyes, blinking away the after flash and grabbing Cade by the shoulder to help drag him inside.  “Where’s Phia?” he asked, gritting his teeth with exertion.

“Still back there.” Cade returned drily.  “Taking prisoners or lollygagging, you tell me.  I *have* to get him into cover, you wanna find her, go ahead.” The doctor struggled forward, past Thomas, leaving the science officer to his own decision.

Pulling the phaser from his side Thomas slowly moved back into the cavern looking around the destroyed room. His gaze shifting from side to side moving towards each and every sound Thomas took a deep breath keeping his adrenaline in check. Jerking slightly as a body came flying from behind a rock formation Thomas quickly check for the signs of a Starfleet uniform only stopping when see the form wasn't even near Phia’s build.

As he leaned down checking for vitals Thomas looked up as he could hear feet shuffling ahead of him. Moving to cover he raised his phaser watching as one of their attackers stumbles from the darkness only to be pushed forward yet again by Phia. Standing to his feet Thomas sighed and holstered his weapon as Phia trained hers on him.

"Are we done," he asked moving to the other body again checking for life.

Phia merely shoved her prisoner towards the exit, "That one is."

Standing Thomas nodded as the two headed for the rest of the group. By now Bomba had begun muttering to himself as Cade did his best to help Angus. Pacing back and forth Bomba only stopped as he heard footsteps coming from the cave followed by a group of shadows. Physically shaking the Risan tried to draw his phaser only to drop it in the sand before him. When the prisoner stumbled around a rock face Bomba's worst fear seemed to have come to life and now he was faced with an enemy.

"Bomba to ARMSTRONG emergency beam out of the away team," the man shouted as Thomas and Phia came around the corner.

[[This is Lieutenant Junior Grade Clarkson,]] came back the crisp voice over the commbadge.  There was a brief pause before the 22 year old Ops Officer came back, [[Sir...we’ve been monitoring your position.  And *ours*.  If I may say so, I think you’re secured for now and if we lower shields--]]

Storm Bomba stood up to his full height, tossed back his mane of fabulous hair, and announced in his best deck voice, “I am Lieutenant Commander Storm Bomba, Executive Officer.  Lieutenant Junior Grade Clarkson I just gave you an *order*.  GET US OUT OF HERE!”

“We’re so fucked,” Cade muttered just before the blue beams grabbed ahold of them.  “Or we just fucked someone over.”

=/\=

Location: USS ARMSTRONG
Scene: Bridge

“Captain, we’re reading a power build up in that derelict!” Clarkson’s voice pierced the tense bridge air.  “The engines are back online… they’re in critical overload!”

“Helm, get us away from that moon, keep us within distance of NIMBUS III if at all possible.” Harcourt’s voice was piercing.  

“Yes, Sir!” The young helm officer called out, her voice full of fear as she worked the controls.

In the back engineering console Sylvia Warren hissed.  “Iminent warp core breach on that vessel!  Prepare for impact!”

It was just enough warning to grab something and hang on before the moon flared up in a corona of white, highlighting the exploding derelict.  The shockwave wasn’t far behind.  “Hold on!” Warren called.

Harcourt reached for the nearest console, feeling her grip slip as her ship was tossed like a rag doll.  The only consolation she could find was that the shields were holding steady, but her own body was wrenched from its position in the center of the bridge and carelessly tossed against the side bulkhead.  around her she could hear the anguished cries of the young crew as they struggled to prevent a similar fate.

Aerdan grabbed the back of the Captain’s chair, trying to adjust for the vastly changing gravitational forces with his antennae.  Which was all well and good, if he wasn’t also operating with one injured shoulder.  He remembered all too clearly Cade chiding him for not doing as much recommended therapy as he should have to strengthen the wound once it healed, and Tam Niala’s concern after re-injuring it on the dead stop station.  Now it came back to haunt him again, pain radiating through his left side as it become the pivot point where he was desperately trying to hold on and prevent himself from being flung across the bridge.
As the shockwave passed and his vision slowly cleared, the first thing he heard was young ensign Larsen’s voice call out “Captain Harcourt!  She’s injured!”

Aerdan Jos righted himself and took a quick stock of the situation.  Harcourt lay crumpled to the side of the bridge, a nasty bruise spreading down from her hairline.  The rest of the bridge crew looked in once piece, though shaken.  He cleared his voice and fixed Clarkson’s attention.  “Lieutenant Clarkson, keep monitoring those energy signatures.  If they so much as flicker in the wrong way target them and prepare to fire.  Lieutenant Warren, give all the support you can to tactical.  Ensign Larsen, get a damage report from all decks.”  He turned and headed towards the Captain, shifting gears from XO to doctor in a heartbeat.  “Captain, can you hear me?” He murmured quietly, taking out a tricorder.

“Are we under attack?” she asked, her eyes fluttering in and out of consciousness.

“Not yet.” He replied, checking her over for the extent of her injuries.  “Hang on, things are under control.  You’ll be allright in a short bit.  Moderate concussion - no fractures.  Sickbay can have you up and running in a few hours.”

She offered him a faint smile.  “You sound pretty sure of that.”

“I’m a neurosurgeon.” He replied, echoing her smile a little.  He was just about to put a call into sickbay and get a plan for safely moving her when he heard a commotion behind him.

“Sir...we’ve been monitoring your position.  And *ours*.  If I may say so, I think you’re secured for now and if we lower shields--”

Something coming over the comm.  Aerdan couldn’t quite hear until he realized that Clarkson was lowering the shields.  He stood and headed towards the tactical console.  “Lieutenant, belay that order!”

Clarkson looked up, panicked at the suddenly conflicting orders and turned towards Aerdan.  “But sir…”

Too late.  The telltale whine of a transporter beam issued behind them.  Ensign Larsen screamed as Captain Rose Harcourt was enveloped in a wash of golden transporter light, and then she was gone.  

=/\=

Location: USS ARMSTRONG
Scene: Sickbay -> Bridge


Phia was angry.  Incredibly angry.  So angry she wished she could tear something into little pieces; but that was, unfortunately, frowned upon in sickbay.  Well, physically at least.  Verbally on the other hand…

“Thanks, asshole.  Next time just leave me there in the dark on a planet where there’s a ton of people trying to kill us and then just beam us out without warning!” She spat towards her nearest target - Cade Foster.

For several seconds Cade said nothing, which would have struck her as unusual if his head wasn’t completely buried in his work.  When he did spare a second to raise his gaze and meet her eyes his voice was acid.  “I am up to my elbows in another man’s blood, woman.  Spare me your vitriol.  Besides, I didn’t give the order to beam us up.  I was too damn busy trying to save a life.”  With that he buried his head back into the desperate race to repair damaged arteries and tissues, enough to regenerate them before full on neural failure occurred.

Phia bit her bottom lip for a moment.  While personal desires prompted her to lay into Cade whenever the opportunity arose, she had to admit that among those on the ARMSTRONG, Cade was actually one of the most intelligent and efficient officers she had to lean upon.  And he had a point, he was doing his job.  Which led her to question ‘who hadn’t done their job?’  The answer was immediate.  Bomba.

She turned on the Risian like a predatory cat stalking a quivering mouse, her voice coming out in a growl.  “Why the hell did you beam us out?”

“St-standard medical emergency.”  Bomba stuttered, his eyes were as wide as a deer in headlights.  

Her eyes were on fire as she emphasized ever word, stabbing a finger towards Cade.  “The chief medical officer makes that call, not you, Bomba.”  One step closer.  “I could have had a prisoner to interrogate.”  A second step closer.  “The bridge advised you against the beam out because they shouldn’t lower shields.” A third step closer, enough to bring her directly into his face.  “You may have just fucked this entire ship over…”

And as if on cue, Red Alert klaxons blared out throughout the ship and the ARMSTRONG lurched, the reverberating sound of weapons fire sizzling off the shields.

“Shit.” The word fell inelegantly from Phia’s mouth as she turned to bee line towards the door.  “Varn!”

“Coming…” He was already on his feet and following when a gentle touch held him back.

“Wait…”  Barely above a whisper, Commander O’Malley’s tone grabbed the science officers attention and he whirled around.

“Commander?” Thomas queried, bending down to get closer to him.

“Listen to me.” Angus’ voice was raspy and weak.  “You can’t let them take the ARMSTRONG.  Don’ trust Starfleet.  Too many … Essentials…”

Lt. Commander Varn felt his brow furrow.  “Essentials?  I don’t understand…”

Angus latched on to Thomas’ arm and dragged him closer.  “If you need … to take control… my command codes…”  He whispered the codes to Varn, repeating them twice before collapsing back against the biobed.

Thomas Varn straightened up, feeling a chill run through his veins.  Who wanted to take the ARMSTRONG?  Who couldn’t be trusted in Starfleet?  He looked up at Cade, momentarily forgetting the years long rivalry he had with the man and for now just trusting his skill as a surgeon.  “Help him… please.”

“I’ll do what I can.” Foster promised.  “You had better get to the bridge, I saw Bomba was already headed out.”

Thomas gave a nod and turned, running at a dead sprint after Phia.

Bomba had already made  quick escape to the bridge ahead of both Phia and Thomas eagerly awaiting the chance to clear his good name and be praised by Captain Harcourt as he just knew he would. It was much to his surprise and dismay that when the doors of the turbolift opened he saw young officers moving quickly to the orders of an almost unfamiliar voice.

"Try to track them they had to have a power surge to decloak and transport," Aerdan stated standing in front of the captain's chair.

"Nothing sir if there was a surge it's gone now," a young science officer replied.

Aerdan thought for a moment, "did the computer get anything on the cloaking signature? "

Looking up the young officers turned to Aerdan as if he had just said something in an unknown dialect.  Stepping forward Bomba leaned over a nearby rail glaring at Aerdan, who for the moment was glad to see the executive officer.

"What do you think you're doing" Bomba exclaimed.

Aerdan jerked slightly on averting his gaze to see Thomas and Phia enter the bridge, "excuse me?"

Walking briskly before standing almost nose to nose with the Andorian, Bomba breathed deeply, "just what do you think you're doing? Where do you get the gall to be commanding "my" crew on "my" ship?"

Watching from the turbolift area Thomas slowly made his way to Sylvia and explained what Angus had done. Quietly but quickly the two began the process of trying to hijack the ship away from their very own incompetent XO.

Commander Jos stared Storm Bomba down with an dire sort of calm.  “Mr. Bomba… we are under attack.  When the shields were lowered to beam the away team up, our enemies took the opportunity to lock onto Captain Harcourt and beam her off the bridge.  The enemy vessel has a cloaking device and has prepared for this conflict by setting various derelicts in this system with explosive devices.  basically ship landmines.  I am controlling the situation in order to protect the lives onboard the ARMSTRONG.”

Bomba’s eyes widened and he wavered between lunging at the presumptuous Andorian and backing off because he knew he was in over his head.  “This is my ship…” he started, only to be cut off by the tactical officer.

“Sir… Sirs!”  Clarkson turned.  “We are receiving a coded message”

“Where is it coming from?” Commander Jos asked immediately, only to have Storm Bomba step in front of him.  

“Put it on audio, Lieutenant.” Bomba puffed out his chest.

Aerdan Jos sighed, sidling over towards Ensign Larsen repeating his query in a soft tone.  She chewed her bottom lip, and replied, “It’s being bounced through one of the communication relay towers on the planet.  I can pinpoint the tower signal, but I can’t trace it back to an origin.”

With a nod, he straightened, standing nearby the science console.  That wasn’t particularly surprising, considering how well everything else was pre-planned against them.  

The voice that pierced the bridge was tinny and distorted, and yet the words were clearly comprehensible.  

[[ARMSTRONG.  You will lower your shields and submit all computer records to us if you wish to have your Captain returned alive.  You have five minutes to comply.  ARMSTRONG.  You will lower your shields and submit all computer records to us if you wish to have your Captain returned alive…]]

The message kept repeating in its eerie tone of voice.  Lt. Commander Bomba’s eyes widened.  “Clarkson, lower shields.”

Aerdan Jos’s expression flared open.  “Clarkson, belay that order.  Do not lower shields under any circumstance.”

The young Lieutenant paused, turning from one commander to the other.  On one hand, he knew Bomba was the officer assigned as the first officer of the ship.  On the other he knew that Bomba’s last order to lower the shields had immediate and painful consequences for the ARMSTRONG.  

“*I* am the first officer on this ship.” Bomba took a step towards Jos, leaning in dangerously close.  

“And *you* aren’t thinking clearly.” Aerdan shot back in a slipped soft lisp.  “These people are obviously hostile towards us, and the last time we dropped our guard they stole our Captain.  I highly doubt they are simply going to give her back in order to get access to our computer banks, something the could have already done the last time the shields were lowered.  I think they are trying to dupe you, Commander, and you are falling neatly into their trap.”

Red streaks of anger crept up Bomba’s neck and a vein started to bulge on the side of his head.  “Are you calling me incompetent?”

“I’m saying you have not considered the situation fully, your rash decisions have put the crew in danger and continue to put the crew in danger, and you don’t have enough of a handle on the situation to make fully informed decisions.”  He paused and gave Bomba a stare that cut right through him.  “If you choose to condense that to ‘incompetent’ go right ahead.”

For several seconds Storm Bomba was quiet, long enough that Aerdan Jos took it as acquiescence and turned towards the engineering console.  “Thomas, are you able to access the ARMSTRONG’s main computer?”

Commander Varn gave a highly encouraging nod of his head.  “Already working on it, sir.”

“Lieutenant Clarkson, program a modulation frequency into the shield generators and set it to a slow modulation.  I don’t trust a cloaked ship to not find ways around penetrating out shielding, so let’s make it as difficult as possible--” Aerdan was cut off by a sudden blur of motion as Bomba lunged towards him, grabbing him by the collar.

“NO!  This is MY SHIP!  I will get the Captain back through ANY MEANS NECESSARY!” Bomba screamed so loudly that Aerdan pinned his antennae flat to the top of his head.

“There are 380 people on this ship, and putting them in unnecessary danger makes you unfit for duty.” Commander Jos replied back quietly, dangerously.  Behind him he could see Phia readying for action.  Aerdan held up a hand, giving Bomba one more chance to see reason.

“You’re gonna get Captain Harcourt killed!  You’re gonna get us all killed!” Bomba shrieked, his voice rising in pitch to a terrified tenor.  “We are all gonna die!”  

In the next instant he dropped Aerdan and swung a wild haymaker towards his face, feeling some note of satisfaction when his fist caught some flesh.  Bomba smiled to himself: this Andorian was a doctor, so certainly he wouldn’t retaliate.  

It caught him off guard when the shorter blue man turned and with stunning accuracy grabbed him by one shoulder, pinning Bomba against the doctor’s chest.  Bomba felt the world spin and suddenly something metallic was pressed against the flesh of his neck, and the soft hissing of a hypospray filled his ears.

Storm Bomba collapsed onto the deck in a disgruntled heap, as Aerdan Jos stepped over him.  

“Do you always carry a hypospray in your pocket?” Phia asked, dropping down to make sure Bomba was, in fact, all right.

“I had the medkit out to attend Harcourt.” he murmured, before giving Phia a directly pleading look.  She was the ship’s official counselor, and he badly needed an official declaration as the young bridge crew stared at him in astonishment.

“Right.”  She checked the fallen man over and then stood.  “By authority as Ship’s Counselor, I am declaring Lieutenant Commander Storm Bomba medically unfit for duty by reason of psychological trauma caused by an attack on the away team while on NIMBUS III.  I will be attending him to Sickbay.”  She glanced at Aerdan as if to ask ‘good enough?’

Commander Jos nodded an assent and spoke to the bridge.  “As of 1437 hours, I am taking command of the USS ARMSTRONG until what time that Captain Rose Harcourt can be retrieved and returned to duty.  Authorization Jos Omega-Four-One.”  He paused and turned towards the bridge crew.  “If anyone has any objects, you may voice them now and remove yourself from duty.  I will make sure this does not reflect poorly on your records.”

There was a full ten seconds of absolute silence before they all turned back to their stations.

Aerdan took in a long slow breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding and shakily sat down in the Captain’s chair.  “Helm, take up a defensive position outside of the NIMBUS III orbit.  Science, prepare to send out a interphasic pulse through the main deflector dish.  We might be able to flush the cloaked vessel out that way.  Thomas - if you can get computer access… change the command sequence codes for the ARMSTRONG.  They may try to use Harcourt for her intimate knowledge of the ship.”

The bridge of the ARMSTRONG buzzed around him, and Aerdan could only hope he could give them a fighting chance.

~*~
NRPG: Thomas: time to mess with the computers!
Phia: Bomba’s all yours now! >.>

Take this anywhere you guys want!
~*~