Captain Taybrim - Burning Brightly (Tags: Flynn/Whittaker/Dempok)

[Jamie LeBlanc]

((Bridge - USS Albion))

::Darkness. Silence. Neither were usual on a starship and neither were a sign of anything good. And yet he could hear sounds of breathing around him, and movement. People lived. That was important.::

Taybrim: We've lost main power - is everyone alright? ::voice hoarse and raspy in the darkness::

Aitas: Slightly more bruised, sir.

Aitas: Uh...sorry about that Lieutenant.

Flynn: As long as you’re alright.

::Sal felt his own awareness flooding back to him all too quickly. He hurt from a myriad of minor injuries, just like everyone else on the bridge who was still mainly in one piece; but now wasn't the time to dwell on it. He forced his brain to snap into a cold focus. They hadn't gotten an all-clear from engineering, which meant the Albion wasn't out of the woods yet.

Which, in turn, meant that someone needed to be the captain of this ship - and that was him.::

Flynn: We've lost power to the helm!

Taybrim: =/\= Engineering, are you alright down there? =/\= ::He paused and added:: =/\= any news on the mains? =/\=

Antraydin: I am alive and trying to work on the power situation sir.

::He sounded reassuring when he spoke, that unwavering belief that by the grace of the cosmos and the skill of his crew everything would be alright.::

Taybrim: =/\= Do what you can. =/\=

Whittaker: =/\= Whittaker to Bridge! =/\=

Taybrim: =/\= I hear you Theo, where are you? =/\=

Whittaker: =/\= I'm on Deck 9. It looks like hell down here. =/\=

Taybrim: =/\= I'm pretty sure it looks like hell across the Albion... =/\=

::He was OK with things looking like hell so long as the Albion crew lived.::

Computer: Warning, magnetic seals in antimatter containment chamber failing. Warp Core breach in 50 seconds.

Taybrim: ::Heightened, the first touch of frantic entered his tone betraying the inner turmoil he kept tightly controlled.:: =/\= Eject the core, can we get to a safe distance?! =/\=

Computer: Warp core ejection in progress!

Taybrim: =/\=Any power you can spare to the engines...=/\= ::If there was any power left.:: =/\= We need it!=/\=

Whittaker: =/\= Bridge, you best grab a hold of something! =/\ =

::They could see the core spin out into space. The subspace eddies in the wake of the nebula explosion took the explosive piece of the engines directly in front of the nose of the ship, leaving the bridge staring down the blast.

The evacuation order placed the majority of the crew in well shielded inner decks. Leaving the bridge crew the most vulnerable. Sal wasn't sure how he felt about that. On one hand if they lived, it was a good chance that the rest of the crew lived too. On the other hand staring down possible death was never a good thing. The Albion lurched, limping away for her very life.::

Bridge: =/\= RESPONSE =/\=

::The advantage the Albion had over the Avalon was foreknowledge. They ejected the core far sooner, letting the vicious cold of space sink in and dampen the explosion while the core reached a much farther distance before viciously giving up the ghost. The Avalon's core blew nearly in it's face while the Albion had more than a few tense and horrific seconds to watch as the ship and the core grew ever farther apart - and yet not far enough to escape the blast.

The Albion was thrown, like a broken prizefighter falling to the floor, her shattered shields absorbing the last of the impact before they fell and the hull cracked with a tremendous groan through the evacuated decks. Gravity failed and debris flew across the bridge. Sal felt something unpleasant impact with his head; enough to add to the pain and yet not enough to mercifully grant him an oblivion of unconsciousness.::

Flynn: ::strained:: Were losing inertial dampeners..

Taybrim: Hold whatever you can.

::How? How could he still sound reassuring and confident in the darkness and the pain? Perhaps Sal Taybrim was brave or perhaps he was just incredibly stupid. The jury was out on that one.::

::And the final blow hit. The Albion lay still. Missing a nacelle. Missing a warp core. Her belly rent with a crack so large one could see stars through it. And yet the saucer section held.

Alarms flared for one brief moment before they lost the power and will to wail. Power was gone. Life support was gone. Air would naturally fade over the next two hours. Sal Taybrim would be terrified if he wasn't such a people-person.

He admitted that he knew going into this that the Albion was no match for the Sienov; and he had hoped to garner allies along the way. It was partially how he operated in every part of his life. He was a social person, diplomatic, honest, steadfast. He did for others and leaned on others in equal measure.

He was trying to collect himself, to fish for one of the tricorders stored in the bridge service stations to get some sort of readings on the Albion when the orange glow of a Klingon transporter filled the air.::

Dempok: Where is your captain?

::The regal looking Klingon happened to be standing just over Flynn's console. In some other circumstance the look on Flynn's face would have been priceless.::

Flynn: ?

::Sal had already unbuckled himself, doing futile - but dogged - work to check on the status of his crew. There was a sticky bit of blood matting down his ginger hair on one side, and like the rest of the bridge crew his uniform was torn, singed and unkempt.

And yet those fathomless dark eyes were bright and sharp; still not done for despite all the hardship.::

Taybrim: Councilor Dempok. ::He offered a nod of greeting:: If we are breathing I trist the battle is won.

Dempok: You fought well, all of you have earned your place at the great hall of honor. ::he nodded, addressing the battered looking group:: Captain, a word, if I may.

Taybrim: You may. ::he gave a nod of acceptance, moving to where the older Klingon gestured. The ready room - the small, not particularly ornate version held on the older Excelsior design - was smashed and yet still serviceable.::

::Once they picked their way inside Dempok turned and for a moment there was a silence, a curious moment of reflection between two fighters of vastly different cultures who had connected in a deeply unusual way in one terrible and unfair fight.::

Dempok: I am sorry Captain, she was a fine ship that fought well above her weight.

Taybrim: I could not ask for more from this ship. ::He paused:: But I fear she will fail us in several hours as our power mains are destroyed.

Dempok: I've got as many men as I can spare boarding to assist. My suggestion would be to decant you all to the S'Tarahk and take you back to your Starbase. We're bruised but nothing a stay in your dry dock won't fix, but the Albion...

::He took a deep breath in, soberly considering the situation. It was a dark truth that the Albion wasn't going anywhere.::

Taybrim: Is functionally dead in the water. ::he confirmed::

::And the Albion was at least three days out from the nearest Starfleet ship. That was three days of leaving a husk full of valuable secrets floating far too close to the Jenatris cloud for comfort.::

Dempok: That does leave the question of the Albion's hulk. So close to Romulan space, with all the technology and intelligence she carries...

Taybrim: She cannot stay here. ::He agreed darkly, a pause as he mused.:: In many cultures it is fitting to burn a warriors body for burial. ::looking up, committed, unwavering:: I will make the preparations.

Dempok: ?

Taybrim: Twenty minutes at most. Myself, my chief of helm and my first officer will be the last to leave the Albion.

Dempok: ?

Taybrim: I might need that last one beamed directly to the bridge. My first officer started as an engineer; and I'm fairly sure one does not tear engineers away from their engines in most any culture.

Dempok.

::It was a curiously honest perception of the situation; and a very Klingon perspective. It wasn't something that completely aligned with Sal's culture and yet he understood the sentiment and appreciated it.::

Taybrim: She will burn brightly once more; flying onward in memory and legend.

Dempok: ?

((OOC - can continue here...))

~*~

::As he walked out onto the bridge he looked at the process of the evacuation. Most everyone had cleared, and yet the man he needed was still present::

Taybrim: Mr. Flynn, are you well enough to stay here for one last task?

Flynn: ?

Taybrim: ::he nodded gently, looking out at the cracked viewscreen.:: How good are you at power shunting to computers?

Flynn: ?

::Sal chuckled a little; finding a big of merriment in the darkest times::

Taybrim: Actually I started my career as a computer scientist. The things you learn when you're in a dead ship floating in space... ::He got down on his hands and knees, tearing the busted computer panel off and starting to fiddle with the circuitry as the sound of a Klingon transporter entered the air.:: Theo, is that you?

Whittaker: ?

Taybrim: ::He smiled from his position under the console:: It is good to hear your voice!

Whittaker/Flynn: ?

Taybrim: Well, I'm routing the backup battery power to this computer. Just enough to get us to what we need to do. ::He popped his head out from under the console and looked up at them:: We're the three highest senior officers still on our feet, and the Albion is both not going anywhere and cannot stay here to fall into the hands of the Orion Syndicate or the Romulans.

::He let that sink in for a few seconds, letting both men come to their own conclusions.::

Whittaker/Flynn: ?

Taybrim: Yes. ::he said quietly:: The auto-destruct sequence. We still have enough battery power to start the chain reaction. I'm just waiting on confirmation that all survivors have been evacuated.

Whittaker/Flynn: ?

Taybrim: ::Grim, reflective:: Of the 178 battle crew we brought onboard the Albion, Major Dal confirmed 164 survivors. ::It was a horrible thing to say; but considering the damage sustained, the Albion's crew had fared pretty well. Then again Sal needed to contact 14 families and explain what happened to their loved ones.:: And 21 survivors from the Avalon.

::That one was the most horrifying statistic. Of the 498 crew onboard the Avalon, there would be 477 horrible messages going home to families. Sal had the sinking feeling that he would be sending those, too.::

Whittaker/Flynn: ?

~*~
tags/tbc
~*~

Captain Sal Taybrim
Commanding Officer
StarBase 118 Ops


"Why do we fly? Because we have dreamt of it for so long that we must"

~Julian Beck
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