LtCmdr. Talos Dakora - Close Encounters
Travis
((Outer Hull - USS Artemis-A))
Talos could only watch as a Constitution III class ship shimmered into existence, swooping in behind the mass of ships at the mercy of Fleet formation mode and firing everything she had into them. A part of him wanted to cheer that someone out there was still holding on, still fighting. But as the Titan’s phasers spanged off the Artemis’ shields overhead, he no longer felt like celebrating. When he saw the torpedo slip through the weakened shields, he shouted
Dakora: Holy strokes! Heads up!
Nathan’s voice crackled over the suit intercom.
Richards: Son of a –\
A split second later, the torpedo struck home, cutting through the weakened shields and impacting elsewhere on the saucer where neither of them could see. They could, however, feel the effect.
Immediately the ship bucked and Talos heard the beeping error as his maglok boots overloaded. Thrown from his feet, he tumbled forward, smacking his helmet onto the hull and creating a spider-web of cracks across the front of his helmet. He began floating up at a slow speed, all the while scrabbling for anything he could grab onto as he rose but came away from the slick hull empty-handed.
Dakora: Help!
He tried to remember Orbital drop training from what felt like a very long time ago. He tried to rotate his body to counter the spin and find a way to redirect his movement but it probably looked more like flailing wildly than he would’ve preferred.
Distantly he was aware of an alarm informing him that he was slowly losing O2 from the cracks in his helmet.
That wasn’t good.
Richards: Calm down there, princess.
Again, Richards' voice played over the suit intercom and he felt the sudden jerk of his zero-g motion being arrested.
He stopped flailing and let out a sigh of relief as Nathan helped him back onto the Artemis’ hull. The reassuring whine of his mag-boots reactivating was a welcome sound.
Dakora: Th-thanks. I owe you one. ::He pointed to his shattered visor.:: I’m losing air, but it’s a slow leak. Should be fine.
At least, he hoped it would be.
Together they began moving toward the airlock which wasn’t too far away now. A large shadow fell over them and Talos looked up in time to see chunks of debris from a dead starship drifting into the Artemis’ shields. Hull fragments and a nearly intact nacelle bounced off the shields, still burning internally wherever chemical fuel still remained.
The largest fragment was a segment of the saucer that missed the Artemis completely but drifted lazily by, rotating slowly. For a brief moment, the sunlight glinted off of what remained of her nameplate and he could read it; The USS Cambridge. The name didn’t mean anything to Talos, but clearly that wasn’t the case for Nathan.
Richards: ::Swallowing, mostly to himself:: Good thing you didn’t take that promotion…
Closing the final score of meters to the airlock, he risked a glance back toward Amity’s Ops Chief.
Dakora: Huh? What promotion?
Richards: Uh, nothing. ::Clearing his throat:: Let’s get back inside before we…can’t.
Talos had a feeling that there was more to that story, but Richards was right. They needed to get back inside the ship before someone dropped a torpedo on their heads.
Finally, they had reached their destination and to Talos’ great relief, when he went to cycle the airlock the controls responded and, after a few moments, the heavy door slid open.
Dakora: Holy strokes, we made it. ::He motioned for Nathan to enter.:: Let’s get inside and see if we can take this ship back.
((PHASE 2: HOUR 2))
((Corridor En Router to Computer Core - Deck 5 - USS Artemis))
Having quickly discarded their matching Command Red EVA suits, Talos and Nathan had been on the move ever since. They’d managed to dodge a couple of roaming Artemis-crew-turned-drones and had nearly made it to the Computer core when they heard footsteps up ahead.
A lot of footsteps.
Dakora::Quietly:: Hold on, we’ve got company…
Richards: Response?
Wedged behind a bulkhead on the opposite side of the corridor from Richards, Talos peeked around the corner cautiously. He ducked back immediately as he saw a squad-sized group of assimilated crew ahead. Oddly, they didn’t seem to be looking in Nathan and Talos’ direction. Instead, they were taking up defensive positions around the opening of the turbolift with an odd assortment of phasers and blunt objects in their hands.
Dakora: ::He mouthed the words:: What are they doing!?
Richards: Response
The turbolift car arrival tone sounded and he heard the telltale sound of the doors sliding apart.
In unison, the group of 8 or so Borg drones called out to whoever was in the turbolift.
Borglings: Eliminate all unassimlated!
Talos’ grip tightened around the phaser in his hand. Somehow the Borg had been tipped off to whoever was in the lift and they were about to have a really bad day.
He was preparing to pop out and open fire on the ambushing team and hopefully draw fire away from whoever it was, when… nothing happened.
The Borg didn’t fire a shot and the sound of footsteps into and out of the lift preceded the announcement;
Head Borgling: Target not found. ::It paused for a moment, almost like it was receiving orders from elsewhere.:: Search this sector. Eliminate all unassimilated.
Whoever the borg had been expecting, they hadn’t found. But, as the footsteps stomping down the corridor got closer and closer, it seemed they were about to find someone. Two someones, actually.
Talos glanced across the hall at Nathan and shrugged, a sort of half-hearted grin playing across his face.
The squad of Borglings stood between them and their objective. The only way out was through.
Dakora: Let’s do this!
He shouted the words as he sprung out of cover, surging forward and firing as he moved to the next bulkhead. His first shot struck home and dark-haired Ensign with a phaser rifle crumpled to the deck.
Behind and to his right, he heard the sound of Nathan making his move as well.
Richards: Response
TAG/TBC
LtCmdr. Talos Dakora
First Officer
USS Artemis-A
O238811CD0