LCDR Aine Sherlock - One Last Stand

[Aine Sherlock]

(( Captain’s Ready Room, Deck 3 - Primary Hull, USS Chin’toka ))

Checking in with the different departments showed the status aboard the ship was dire at best. With nothing but a skeleton crew, and most of them somehow assimilated by the Borg, it seemed like it wouldn't be long before the ship was no longer in their control. The voices they had heard, the words "eliminate the unassimilated," echoed in Aine's head. This was unlike any Borg encounter she'd read about. This time it seemed they were hellbent on annihilation.

Sherlock: Did anyone see Lieutenant Neshala?

Serala: Fvadt! Find her and lock onto her. Get her out of there!

McGillian: Computer, lock onto Lieutenant Neshala in the Brig.

With only the three of them, and the bridge now empty, they theoretically could take control. It was just a matter of how much the rest of the ship was being taken over.

Sherlock: I can fly if we need. But we may also want to see if we can get her out of there, ::beat:: if she's still alive. We're going to need every living and not assimilated body we can get. That parade has got to be a slaughter house by now.

Serala: I agree. Get her now. The medical team is not secure so beam her directly here. We’ll have to do whatever we can for her ourselves. Then we take back the bridge.

McGillian: Computer, beam the Lieutenant into the ready room.

The subtle sound of a distant explosion reverberated through the deck. It was subtle enough for them to know it wasn't entirely critical. But there was a sinking feeling that it was the loss of more crew.

Serala: Report!

Aine quickly accessed the ship's computer through her iPADD, pulling up a display of where the damage was.

Sherlock: Explosion was in Security. ::beat:: Brig.

Serala: Beam her here, now!

McGillian: Computer, Security override, Mac Seven-Seven-Three-Four beam Lieutenant Neshala here from wherever she is located now!

The blue shimmer of the transporter appeared in the room with them, fading as the prone body of Neshala materialized.

Serala: McGillian, get me a status on the Borg in the brig. Are they loose? Commander Sherlock, see what you can do with Neshala. There’s a medkit on the wall behind you.

McGillian: =/\= McGillian to Turnbull =/\=

Sherlock: Aye, Sir.

Serala: I am going to get a status on the fleet. We need to know what’s going on out there as much as in here.

Aine retrieved the medkit and pulled out the medical tricorder. She hadn't used one since the Academy and she wasn't exactly the best with medical studies, but she could at least read. Luckily the Lieutenant was just battered and bruised, like herself. Nothing critical. Aine tapped the display next to portion of the medkit that held a hypospray, ordering up a mild pain killer, then injected Neshala.

McGillian: =/\= Turnbull, respond. =/\=

Sherlock: ::looking to McGillian:: Ensign... ::shaking her head::

Aine knew well enough what it meant when there was no response. And there was no point in wasting breath. There was nothing they could do for them. It was a horrible feeling, but they still had a ship and whatever crew was still alive to take care of.

Serala: Well, I’ll be damned.

McGillian: What is it Captain?

Aine stood and moved to get a look at the display the Captain was looking at.

Sherlock: That's...it's got to be a trick.

Serala: The Titan. And she’s cloaking and decloaking while attacking the fleet. And there’s more. The Enterprise — Enterprise-D! just arrived in system and is headed for Jupiter. What is that old goat up to?

McGillian: Old goat? You don't think...

Aine gave Mac a curious look. "Ensigns," she thought to herself. All they had were stories, tales. They'd yet to see a living legend come back from the "dead."

Serala: Admiral Jean-Luc Picard, I would assume. He’s one of those VIPs I said was deemed irrelevant. I guess he’s not so irrelevant after all.

McGillian: ::grinning:: The legend himself.

Sherlock: Let's just hope he has a plan.

McGillian: ::serious and stern:: =/\= Petty Officer Turnbull, respond. =/\=

Aine shook her head again.

Sherlock: ENSIGN. We need to focus up here.

Serala/Neshala: Response

McGillian: Captain, I think it's safe to assume that the brig has been comprimised.... and probably security as a whole.

Aine slowly nodded. He was seeing what she was getting at. None of them knew how long this was going to go on. But one thing was sure, if they took back control, they could have an impact. Even if it was one last hoorah.

Serala: Response

McGillian: Sir, I think we need to make our way back onto the bridge. As Commander Sherlock mentioned, were heading towards the parade. We are drastically unprepared for an engagment. We should get the ship out of here while we can.

Sherlock: Or ::looking back and forth between them all:: we get in the fight as long as we can.

Serala/Neshala: Response

Sherlock: I think we have to accept that the ship will be lost. It's just a matter of do we let it go while we sit here, or do we go down fighting?

Aine didn't take the assumption lightly. But the fact was, they were overrun and out of time. In the last three years she'd face nearly insurmountable odds time and again. But never once did she give up. She would fight until the end. Whether it was charging into battle against other ships of the fleet, or going down and clearing the ship deck by deck.

Serala / Neshala / McGillian: response

Sherlock: We weren't ordered to steal this ship just to run. And we have just enough power to run the phasers and we have a few torpedoes, ::looking to McGillian right?

Serala / Neshala / McGillian: response

tags/TBC

LCDR Aine Sherlock

Executive Officer

U.S.S. Chin'toka

R239712AS0

[ainesherlocksf]

((OOC: Was noted I forgot to include some comms traffic.))

It was just then that Aine's iPADD chirped, having been routed into the comms.

MacKenzie “Kenzi” Connors: =/\= Petty Officer Connors to the Bridge. We’re under attack! The Borg have … blown up the Brig and we have others coming in! Please advise! =/\=

Sherlock: =/\= Conners, I need you to tell me what happened down there. We've been unable to get a report from down there. =/\=

Connors: =/\= I don’t know what happened, sir. There was an explosion and all of a sudden, they’re everywhere. I think they’re trying to get into the Armory. =/\=

Sherlock: =/\= Get your people out of there, Petty Officer. Lock it down now. =/\=