[JP] Marshall & Sienelis - Together, They Run (Part VI)
Quinn Reynolds
((Lena's Shuttle))
::The stocky little ship shook in protest, engines whining, thrusters rattling the hull underneath, alarms screeching from the helm console. The manoeuvre was no kinder to the occupants inside, the shuttle's dampening systems unable to keep up with the g-forces, tossing them around in their chairs and pooling blood away from where it was needed most. Lena breathed out a Cardassian obscenity, the most discomforted she'd been in the short time they'd known her, while Valesha groaned as she fought to keep conscious. Bear felt his stomach heave with a fresh array of vodka sloshing around on the inside.
::However, the manoeuvre worked perfectly, whipping the pod around on the underside the pursuing Romulan shuttlecraft as it sailed overhead. With a pot shot to their engines as a token of ill-will, their pod lurched forward in a different direction to break out of the dogfight, snapping away at a click, and heading straight for the plasma storms waging war in space.::
O. Marshall: They're not locking onto our trail but it won't be long. ::He looked over his shoulder to the hybrid pilot.:: How fast can you get us out of here?
::Her olive skin still regaining its usual blush of vigor, Lena still somehow managed to find a chuckle. Her fingers darted across the helm console, transferring power between systems, while amber eyes kept a close watch on the sensor readouts. Her console squawked and growled, the indicator sounds every bit as aggressive as the species who manufactured them.::
Josett: She's faster than she looks, especially once I get her to warp.
O. Marshall: Edge of the storm band should mess with their instruments if we can get them close enough. Handbrake turn at the last possible second and zip us into warp. I'll lay down the fire. ::The corner of his mouth curved in a grin.:: If you would be so kind.
Josett: I do like a man who knows how to give an order. ::She grinned and darted a glance over toward him, while Valesha breathed out an audible tut.:: Hey, big spoon. As soon as we go to warp, I need you to depolarise the hull and switch our shield frequencies. Detail's in the banks.
Sienelis: To minimise our chances of being atomised in the storms we were planning to avoid?
::Her voice was tight and sharp, frustration and fear condensing into a coiled spring of a Romulan.::
Josett: That's the plan. I like my atoms in the form they're presently taking.
O. Marshall: I heard that.
::Venturing a glance toward Lena, that same trajectory took his eyes to the viewscreen in front, where the Romulan shuttle arched serenely on the rear view. His displays lit up with the sensor scan of their vessel, their power shunted into the engines, the throttle hitting hard, tearing through the expanse between them. Slamming his hand down onto the weapon controls, the hardy Klingon ship fired on all disruptors, green streaks marking their path. Romulans knew how to build them slick.::
O. Marshall: She's coming up fast!
Sienelis: So's the edge of the plasma fields. ::She frowned at her controls, trying to coerce the Klingon technology into things it really wasn't designed to do.:: We're losing sensor resolution, it's not going to be long before we're blind.
Josett: Same goes for them. We'll have other ways of seeing once we're in there.
::A small sound of aggravation caught in the Romulan's throat. The situation as it was, the plasma fields were their best chance of escaping her kinsmen. But was keeping herself away from her people really worth risking other people's lives in the storms of Ma no Umi? But it was far too late for doubts, and the shuttle jolted underneath them as a dissipated volley of green bolts crashed against their shields.::
Josett: Hold on to something!
::With another gut-lurching gambit, the hybrid pilot cut the impulse engines, power slamming into the warp core as she spun the ship around with thrusters. Their whole universe seemed to be little more than glare and noise; warning signs flashing to the accompaniment of metallic shrieks, electric whines, and bone-jarring rattles.
::Everything in Bear, organs and all, shifted to one side as the ship careened and shot out under the minitrations of the hybrid pilot. Klingon instruments flared in unison with full bass tones and the sharp, loud guttural grinding of the computer giving them intense warnings he couldn't understand. Breath heaving at the sudden change in direction, heart hammering at the adrenaline, he turned his gaze with a wide-eyed stare at the hybrid.::
O. Marshall: We're going *in* there? Into the storms? ::If it could, his expression grew a little more incredulous.:: Are you flying on a death wish?
::Her hand hovering over the warp controls, Lena had to raise her voice to be heard above the cacophony of the shuttle.::
Josett: Would you like me to pull over?
O. Marshall: Oh sure, drop the shields while we're at it. Serve up some viinerine and let the good times roll. ::A spark of thought slid behind his eyes that she hadn't brought them there to die, obviously, and that fear curdled into something else, producing a challenging grin.:: For every one we come close to getting zapped by, you owe me a shot.
Josett: Deal!
::She chuckled, slapping her hand down on the helm controls. A bass hum erupted from the rear of the boxy ship, leapfrogging it beyond the speed of light and directly into the roiling amber clouds of the plasma fields. Columns of white-hot gas arced between thunderheads, tornadoes of plasma spinning up and falling away just as quickly, ready to wreak havoc on the unwary.
::The shuttle bucked and rocked in those first few seconds, dropping out from underneath its passengers, only to bounce hard back up again. Then with barks of acknowledgement sounding from Valesha's console, the ride smoothed out again, though there remained a pernicious crackle resonating through the hull. Intent on her controls for a short while, Lena eventually slouched backward and in her chair, and laughed.::
Josett: Are you two always this exciting?
O. Marshall: It's a talent.
::His response came on the wings of a breath exhaled as tensed muscles released with a flood of relief Bear could feel in his fingertips. One hand dropped to his thigh, the other running up over his head, gripping his hair and the touch of sweat on his scalp. Gaze turning to the viewscreen, at the expanse of space stretching out in front of them, burning in cognac with flashes of honey. It would be beautiful, if it wasn't so deadly.::
O. Marshall: Are you always this excitable?
Josett: Only when given suitable motivation. ::She grinned toward him, leaning over to pat his thigh.:: You alright back there?
Sienelis: I didn't drink nearly enough vodka for this.
::The Romulan exhaled a long, slow breath, shifting in her chair. Her heart was yet to climb down off the precipice it had scrambled up when the chase had begun, and she rubbed the base of her throat, as though trying to massage her pulse down to a more reasonable speed.::
O. Marshall: You should've brought the bottle. A victory drink wouldn't go amiss.
TBC...
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Orson Marshall
Fugitive
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Fugitive
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Scallywag
Orion Syndicate