Lt. Cmdr. Kirsty Carpenter - The Shrike
Justin Partridge
((Bridge, Deck 3, U.S.S. Ronin, Approximately Twenty Minutes After the Explosion.))
Thanks to the quick work and even quicker response of Beck and his people, Kirsty and the rest of the Bridge crew were still standing.
Most were battered, some were even absent entirely, as was the case with Beck and O'Connor, the latter being attended to by the former down in the surely active Sickbay below, but they were all still here. All still working the problem and anticipating the next attack with a blunted, but never broken will to continue protecting.
At least, that was Kirsty's attitude and perspective on the last near-half hour. Beck and his fellow medics had swept across the Bridge like a cooling fog of balm in the direct aftermath of their "Web". Vitals were taken, aid had been administered throughout, and then they had set about licking their wounds. But she was all too aware that the fight wasn't done. Not entirely. Merely at an ebb that was soon to crest at any second.
But she wasn't entirely sure they would be ready once that crest came. Snowball and her fighter wing support had done a lot to keep the stragglers from nipping at them during this tense, seemingly endless 20 minutes since their and the Kitty's tandem defense. And the massive "Gun-Ship" still was in a sort of recovery itself for the time being. But that was the only stretch of luck they seemed to be enjoying.
Kirsty found herself silently cursing as The Captain approached her, threatening to bring her under-her-breath language into polite company as she slammed her one bare and one bandaged (and still pleasantly cool-feeling) fists onto the Tac console that refused to operate still. Even with the comprehensively impressive ad-hoc repairs Marty and a few technicians had done around the Bridge in the wake of the medics.
Niac: How does it look, Kirsty? We down to hurling strongly worded letters at the Alliance?
Carpenter: Shot to sh-...Still largely inoperable. 2 broadside launch tubes still active and now too some of the rapid-fire launchers a'fore, but beam weapons are still bein' seen to. Shields are still holdin' and even rising across fore and aft kinetics, but I don't like sittin' here mostly toothless.
Karrod Niac chuckled and Kirsty, despite herself and her constantly narrowed vision toward the Main Viewer where the still lurking "Gun-Ship" hung like an armored carapace just outside their door, smiled back. The smile dimmed precipitously as she clocked the obvious effort it took for him to do so, but still the waves of affability and respect for his officers that radiated from The Captain swept her up once again. It's like she couldn't help it. She could only remember one CO that had made her feel like this before and wondered idly if they would have gotten along.
oO Probably, Oo she thought quickly. oO Everybody gets along with Cap Niac. Unless you cross him, that is...which was exactly the same as- Oo
She clipped off the needless rumination, refocusing herself on the tasks (and lack of weaponry) at hand, as well as her Captain's attentions. She stretched slightly both the "second skin" adhesive Beck had applied to her wounds as she brought herself back to full height and a loose attention.
Niac: I'm starting to think you missed your calling as a diplomat, Commander. If I'd put you on the comm with the Alliance ages ago maybe we could've avoided all...this...
Carpenter: Trust me, sir, I'd have plenty to say. But The Khitomer is still out there and in flight. And DS33 is still in this too. Once I get them on the horn, I'll be able to have a better report. And a better idea at how we are going to beat these buzzards back.
The Captain accepted her report, shifting himself uncomfortably in his Center Chair.
Niac: Very well. Keep trying to raise anyone you can. Khitomer or the station. We survived...whatever that was. Odds are they did too. Our people are out there, Kirsty...I believe that. This wasn't all for nothing.
Carpenter: Sir, yes, Sir.
She returned to her efforts with a renewed fire, though suddenly and powerfully missing the ambient energy and sun of Quentin Beck and Ian O'Connor. Q she knew more than O'Connor, but both had more than risen to the occasion throughout this hellishly sudden rope-a-dope attack from the brazen Lattice Alliance.
Kirsty awkwardly made her way back to the ancillary consoles, trying to find some better semblance and control of their suddenly replete arsenal, as well as trying to hail somebody, anybody, out there in the mire of the still ongoing, but slightly lessened chaos of the fight for Deep Space 33. Systems were busted up across the whole of the ship, comms it seemed worst of all. Even internal communications had been totally wiped out, moving back to the old school telex deck-to-deck reports Kirsty felt light might had gone out of style sometime before her deadbeat dad asked her mother out on their first date.
But she poured over them all the same, hoping to glean some sort of edge that would help them repel the still looming attack force that were currently (but wouldn't forever be) licking their own wounds in the space outside.
Niac: So what do you think, Chief? This damage going to buff out?
Tucker: ::from under the console:: Nothing a bit of Bondo won't fix.
Captain Karrod snorted once more, backlit by some sounds of scuffling and rising limbs. Marty had been all over the Bridge even after his people had swept through with the medics. But the battle and attempted counter-Web had taken a lot out of the whole ship. The Bridge was just the face of the whole of the damage.
Kirsty knew enough to stay out of the Golds' way.
Niac: I was worried you'd say something like that. Any chance at all of getting the core back online?
Kirsty turned as Marty rose to full height, a sort of sheepishness playing across his face.
Tucker: I’ve got Lieutenant Morgan on it right now. She’s the best warp specialist we’ve got. If she can’t get it up and running, then we’ll have to put it into the dock after this is all over.
The Captain gestured towards the Ronin’s view screen. Even with the buzz of the battle, the picture was a sort of beautiful. The valiantly defending DS33 with the floating profile of the ships around them, interwoven with the ion-trails and flashing weapons of the fighters and fighter forms. Any other day, Kirsty would have been struck by the sight, now she only wanted the enemy gone and her people safe.
And the means in which to do so. She ached with the momentary inaction and once again wondered why they hadn't heard anything from Beck and Ian just yet. A call out, a person-to-person check in with the Captain, anything. Her nerves started to twitch with an entirely new branch of worrying.
Niac: I feel like the old girl has just a little bit of fight left in her, Chief...and I'm not giving those bastards the satisfaction of just sitting here while they roll over what's left of the station. ::He glanced towards the vacant helm station and considered one final option.:: How about the impulse drive? Can you give me enough for one sustained maximum velocity burst? It...wouldn't need to last long.
Marty got to work right then an' there. Drumming his hands across one of the few active terminals and then crossing his gaze to their CO after a few productive beats.
Tucker: ::rubbing his hand on the back of his neck:: I can give you several micro-bursts or one heavy burst that can last about fifteen seconds before we fry the impulse generators.
The Captain was about to reply, but was crossed up slightly by two things happening in rapid succession. One was the arrival of a new, already harried looking Ensign. One who came to a respectful attention in front of CO Niac, which made the sudden loose panel that shook free itself from the bulkhead and dropped to the deck with a tinny SCHRUMP noise as if heralding their silence. Now it was Kirsty's turn to snort slightly, suddenly overcome with the absurdity of the whole sight.
Niac: Good of you to join us, Ensign Sims. I regret your first visit to the bridge is...less than auspicious. I'm sure Chief Tucker is waiting for your damage report. He's the Lieutenant over there who looks like his uniform might be smoldering. And that slightly overcooked tactical officer is Lt. Cmdr. Carpenter but you may want to give her some space, she's angry enough to climb onto the hull with a hand phaser at this point. Not that I blame her. What's the situation below?
Kirsty gave a terse, but appreciative nod toward the new arrival, who wasted little time getting to it, immediately moving them up in Kirsty's book.
Sims: Damage to deck six is worse than originally thought, sir. Main power just went down a few moments ago following a power surge, and It’s going to take quite a bit of time to make repairs with all the debris that will need to be cleared out first. Both evacuation transporter rooms and one of the force field generators went down along with the power to that deck.
Marty fidgeted with his hair for a bit and Kirsty empathized with the feeling. Her skin was starting to buzz with the worry and lack of power at her hands.
Tucker: ::half grinning at Sims:: I’ll add that to the long list of things. How’s the damage control center doing? I heard it had taken it all pretty hard.
Carpenter: We felt it too, I think.
Sims: Damage to the damage control center is a bit more substantial unfortunately. An EPS panel blew and started a plasma fire. The room was sealed off, and the fire should be contained, but no one can assess the damage to the room itself with the levels of plasma radiation in there.
Tucker: Good work, Ensign. Can you reroute Commander Carpenter's console over to Tactical Two? We’ll have to replace her console completely. ::pointing to the one console behind the XO’s chair::
Niac: RESPONSE
Kirsty frowned as she nodded, stepping back from the alcove once more, crossing her arms tightly. She wasn't about to stand in anyone's way, especially when it came to their duty on the ship, but at the same time, they didn't have long. And if they couldn't make it to the Secondary Bridge now, that was if (a big IF) it was functioning, they were sitting ducks.
Everyone, her included, were working on borrowed time. She silently prayed everyone realized that as keenly as she did in the moment.
Carpenter: How long?
Sims: RESPONSE
Tucker: ::to Kirsty:: It should only take a couple of minutes to reconfigure tactical two. And you’ll be up and running. ::head down again, looking at his console:: Deck eight reports microfractures in the bulkheads, which probably happened when the structural integrity field dipped. And I suspect those aren’t the only ones; we took one hell of a hit.
Niac: RESPONSE
Carpenter: And we'll take more if we keep sittin' here. And has ANYbody heard from Beck and Ian? They should be back by now.
Sims: RESPONSE
A new sort of nervous energy started to fog through the Bridge, but everyone admirably kept their posts. Even Kirsty who really only had half of one at the moment. But still the problem of their missing medic and wheelman gnawed at her. So much so, apparently, that she caught once more the attentions of her CO.
Niac: RESPONSE
She nodded gratefully, but with the rigidity of a soldier addressing a respected superior.
Carpenter: I'm good, Captain. Just...Beck's kinda my good luck charm. ::she gives a smirk:: He goes on, sure, but he's damn useful. Mister O'Connor too. You always play better from a full deck, right?
Sims: RESPONSE
A comm chripting through the Bridge caught their attentions, but it was Tucker who was to answer the call. He turned into his comm badge and decisively conferred with one of his people.
Tucker: Go for Tucker.
Morgan: =/\= Sir, I’ve played all the hits and dipped into the B sides and deep cuts, but I can’t get the warp core back online. One problem is the microfractures in the Antimatter injection bay…=/\=
Tucker: Got it, Rach. Tucker out. ::to Niac:: Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the warp core is toast, microfractures to the antimatter injection bay. We even look at the warp core funny and could have a breach.
Niac: RESPONSE
Carpenter: What about evasive? Do we have a "speed limit" now, do y'all think?
Sims: RESPONSE
Tucker: RESPONSE
Kirsty nodded, expecting much the answer she got. So not only would they be punching with broken fists, but they would be likely limping through the whole deal. It was what it was. But once more her eyes were drawn powerfully to the Main Viewer as the "Gun-Ship" once more started to list back upright. The long, impossible "gun barrel" that was seemingly lashed to the bottom of the brutalist ship was inactive, but two more lights had started to blaze across the top of the ship.
Beaming through the space between them like two twin fiery jewelled eyes at them and the station beyond. The few terminals that were active started to scream, gathering phaser attacks were incoming from the leviathan. Kirsty allowed herself a rueful chuckle.
Carpenter: So it DOES have normal guns...S'like seein'a teacher outside of school. Total letdown.
Niac/Tucker/Sims:RESPONSE
Carpenter: I think we can take a few shots, but we need to get movin' sooner rather than later. Can anybody drive stick?
Now Kirsty regretted even further that Beck and Ian weren't up with them. But she was ghoulishly happy everything was about to pop back off again. It kept her from focusing on everything else happening in her head.
Niac/Tucker/Sims/Any: RESPONSE