Location: In orbit of Jutus
Speed: Standard Orbit
Shields: Nominal
Hull: Nominal
Systems: All Systems Nominal

Before we Begin
Episode 11 - Family Matters
Stardate 73834.3
MD004 1400 hrs

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Battle Joined

Posted on Thu Jun 27th, 2019 @ 3:45pm by Captain Larta Daughter of Shog
Edited on on Fri Jun 28th, 2019 @ 9:56pm

Mission: Episode 7 - Home Again
Location: Somewhere in Breen Space
Timeline: MD004 1400 hrs
2054 words - 4 OF Standard Post Measure

The Ram Cha’ Par inched closer and closer to the station.

And Larta hated it.

This was taking too long and the passive readings they were getting weren’t good. For a derelict station, there was a lot of traffic. A lot of Cardassian military ships moving around and smaller ships her crew had identified as being Maquis, traders of one sort or another, and vessels that had been identified as lost, stolen, or both.

She wasn’t sure how much closer she was going to take her ship, though the idea of sneaking aboard the station and liberating her mother for trial back on Kronos had appeal. All this would have been a lot easier if she’d known more from her fool of a father and could have used Tremble to lure her mother out earlier; before she’d somehow fallen out with her Maquis friends.

Larta brooded in her command throne. Her quarters were starting to feel smaller and smaller and at least if she were on the bridge, the crew would do less complaining all together.

“Captain,” her tactical officer called out, “There’s something strange happening.” Larta was instantly on her feet, stepping over to the tac station. “Tell me,” she said.

“We started picking up squadron of ships, now confirmed as Pa’nich, class Cardassian patrol vessels. Eight of them,” her tac officer said. “They’re at 15,000 kellicams.”

Larta narrowed her eyes and looked at him, “Plot a change of course to take us out of their path.” The man nodded, did some calculations and gave them to her.

“Helm, bring us onto heading 458, speed constant,” she ordered.

“Captain,” her tac officer said then, his voice quiet. “They are broadcasting an odd signal. It’s reads as constant. A communications signal, but using an irregular frequency.”

Larta stared at the readouts, then turned to her science officer. “Analyze that signal. Find out…”

“Captain, her second in command abruptly cut her off. “The cloak is failing!”

Larta turned, swearing as her tactical officer said, “Confirmed. And Captain, those patrol ships are changing course and moving into an attack pattern.”

Barring her teeth, Larta slid into her command throne and barked out, “Shields. Alert status one. Ready weapons systems. What happened?”

Her second in command didn’t answer and Larta left him to work on it. Touching some of the controls at her disposal, a tactical display went up, with the bird of prey at the center. The supposed derelict Breen station was now represented in the upper left from the Cha’ Par and the patrol was vectoring in from the bird of prey’s rear.

“The patrol is changing formation and accelerating,” her tactical officer called out, even as Larta saw it happen on the display. “They’re moving to a spread , stacked box formation and their weapons are powering up. I’m getting overly large power signatures from them, Captain.”

Larta growled deep in her throat. “Probably Maquis modified. They liked to put Galor class phaser systems on those ships,” she commented. “Helm, prepare to come about.”

“Captain,” her second in command said quietly, “I located an odd device in the cloak. It burned out the relay and most likely was activated by that signal we received.”

“Porvik,” she swore after two seconds. “He’s going to die slow when I catch him, but that doesn’t help us now. It can’t be fixed?”

“Unlikely, but I have them working on it.”

“Helm, bring us about onto a heading of 908, mark 322. I want to fowl that formation. Stand by torpedoes.”

The bird of prey altered course, heading back toward the fighters that were now closing rapidly and at a downward angle that would cause the fighters to shift formation or cause the upper three and center ship of the box to not be able to use their weapons for the risk of firing through their own ships.

“Captain, is this wise,” her second asked annoying her. Still, it was his job.

“I will not run like these vermin are prone to without testing their metal.” Turning to her tactical officer she said, “Rapid fire on the launchers. I want a staggered pattern destination along this line.” She rapidly tapped in a command and a line pattern appeared on the display.

Three seconds went by as the range closed and then the weapons light went amber and she nodded, “Fire!”

The bird of prey’s launcher’s chuffed three times, launching three pairs of torpedoes. These were set at different speeds and struck among the incoming patrol craft at different intervals, causing them to fly threw the fire and in the case of three of the fighters, directly within the blast radius.

The ships tried to scatter, but had waited too long. Four were able to fire and heavy phaser beams reached out for the Ram Cha’ Par, three of them washing over her shields. The bird of prey rocked and alerts started sounding as the lights flickered.

“Evasive action,” Larta growled out. “Helm, bring us up and around that formation. Make them work for it. Put the damaged ships between the five still fully functional ships and us.”

“Direct hit on one of the enemy,” her tack officer called out. Two others show heavy damage and their power signatures are wavering.”

The holo-display changed and Larta looked over it professionally. The odds still weren’t great and there wasn’t a lot of point in continuing this with her cloak out. The bastard Cardassians knew they were out there.”

Still, her blood called for battle.

“Launcher’s, they’re bunching trying to get on our tail. Prepare a circle pattern, six torpedo spread. Set for delayed detonation. Helm, set course to..” Larta looked at the display, calculated in her head, then said, “584 mark 732. Make sure you’re at full tactical speed.”

As the ship altered course and her bridge crew worked to carry out her orders, Larta glanced at her second. “Damage?”

“Shields holding at 80 percent. No hull damage.”

Nodding, she looked at the ships display and considered. “Operations, route power from from rear shields to front shields, but be prepared to change it back without orders from me as their aspect changes.”

Tactical, Helm, we’re going to try and scatter them. Tell the disruptor crews I want as much fire as they can get out as we go through this formation. Our shields may only let us do this once.”

Her officers all responded that they understood and as the fighters swooped and altered their trajectory, trying to come in on the bird of prey, the klingon ship altered course again and the torpedo launcher fired rapidly again. Almost immediately, as the distance narrowed fast and Larta barked out, “Detonate. Tell those disruptor crews to do some damage or I’ll have their ears!”

The bird of prey proved his was the better turning rate and like a hawk plummeting into the center of a flock of sparrows, he arrived just after the barrage of torpedoes went off, the bird of prey’s disruptors spitting spitefully at his foes as the torpedo’s energy overwhelmed to of the fighters shields all together and they exploded in torrents of their own, the internal oxygen and other gasses burning off.

The Cha’ Par also rocked and bucked as it went through the ring of fire. Her Operations officer was not quite quick enough with the shields balance and the bird of prey’s hull made keening noises as the lights went out on the bridge.

The emergency lights kicked in within a second and Larta barked out, “Damage?”

“Shields at 45 percent and theres a breach on deck 3. Secondary bulkheads holding. Two casualties in engineering where they are containing a coolant leak.”

Larta grunted again as she viewed the tactical display. Three of the original eight fighters were destroyed. Two more were drifting, their power systems fluctuation and would be easy targets for the disruptor crews. The three fighters that were still facing her were in good shape, but sensors indicated their shielding was weakened from the battle so far.

Then her tactical officer called out. “Captain, I think we’re being drawn in. We’re within 20,000 kellicams of station weapon range and the remaining fighters are looping in again.”

Larta surveyed things again, then called out, “Helm to 681 mark 425. Keep us away from that station and keep our dorsal shields against those…

“Warp signature detected,” her second yelled out suddenly, “Bearing 577, mark 400. They’re right on top of us.”

And then a Galor class ship dropped in on them, less than 2000 kellicams off their port, ventral side. Immediately, the destroyer’s weapon mounts went hot and phaser fire washed over the wounded bird of prey. The Cha’ Par’s helmsman continued the maneuver even as Larta sprung from her seat and was leaning over and shouting into his ear, “ Hard about. Straight at him!”

There were some started looks amid her crew, but they obeyed and the now limping bird of prey turned directly for the destroyer. “Target his bridge. Ramming speed!” Turning to her second she said, “Warp engines are online?”

“Yes, Captain. But…,” her second started to question, but she cut him off, turning back to the helm.

“Helm, aim for a glancing blow to that bridge. Prepare for a micro jump to warp and clear this trap. We’ll see how your reflexes are. Jump to warp on my command!,” Larta stated loudly.

The Ram Cha’ Par, limping and trailing debris seemed to leap at the Cardassian destroyer and her weapon systems stuttered as they tried to find the nimble ship. The fighters behind were coming up fast as well, their weapons reaching out…

…and then the bird of prey was gone, jumping to warp just as she started the vector into the Galor class’s bridge.

Thirty seconds later, the Ram Cha’ Par dropped from warp, power fluctuations. There was a moment of silence, then Larta called out. “Damage?” She asked, as she thumped the helmsman on the shoulder, telling him. “Good work. We live to fight another day and we took some of the dogs with us.”

“Shields are at 10 percent. We have breaches to decks two and three with four compartments open to space. Impulse power is limited to 45 percent and there are a total of fourteen dead,” her second rumbled.

“Indeed. Well fought. It was a trap and treachery was involved, but we showed well,” she said proudly. “Helm, plot a series of micro jumps through this sector and get us lost from any pursuers.” Looking at her second, she said “Make sure there are no trackers left on him. I want the cloak back online and then fix everything else.”

Her crew all moved to start work and Larta sat in her command throne again. Her second issued some orders and returned back in a few cycles and reported back that work had begun, but it would be a week before they’d be combat ready. Her second leaned against his console and stated, “Interesting tactic there Captain. I commend you.”

Larta laughed then. “You’d like an explanation?” She asked, though there was a tone of danger in her voice.

“I’m not questioning, by any means Captain. Merely curious,” he assured her.

Larta stared at him for a moment, judging his words and loyalty, then said, “They fought and thought like Cardassians. With the Galor entering the battle, they expected us to flee and that’s what his gunners were ready for. They were not ready for us to ram them and they flinched. That was the time to withdraw.”

Her second nodded and stood back, looking at her with renewed respect and Larta sat for a few moments, thinking the battle over before she stood. “Take command,” she told her second. “I am going to review the damage and see to the crew. We work hard today to be ready tomorrow. Tonight, we drink and honor our dead and celebrate theirs!”

The crew on the bridge all roared their approval as she strode from the bridge.

Captain Larta Daughter of Shog
Commanding Officer, Ram Cha' Par
House H'rell Bird of Prey


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