Lt. JG T’Fearne - How to Lose a System in Ten Minutes
Teayl Thorn
((Bridge, Deck 3, USS Ronin))
The consoles glowing steadily as the Bridge was cast into dim shadow punctuated by the Red alert lighting soaking the space in crimson, as tension settled over the crew. The Ronin’s bridge still felt too large to T’Fearne. Most of the senior officers remained tied up with the rescue operation on the moon below, leaving a handful of junior personnel and Ronin's second officer, Lt. Cmdr V’Len Kel as acting captain to hold the line while a hostile Lattice Alliance vessel hovered just outside weapons range. Neither ship had yet hailed the other. It had become a silent staring contest, each side apparently waiting for the other to make the first move.
T’Fearne pushed aside thoughts of her smaller stature. Being twelve again was distracting enough without letting it undermine her focus. Physical height and strength mattered less here than clarity of thought, and her mind remained her most reliable weapon. Over the past year aboard she had studied the Tholian and Sheliak as a professional necessity. Keeping the Ronin and her crew safe from Alpha Isles threats had made their history with the federation and behavioral patterns of great importance to her.
The Tholians were territorial crystalline expansionists, xenophobic and extremely dangerous. Their Alliance compatriots, the Sheliak generally presented themselves as rigidly rule-bound and obsessively contractual. Litigious, precise, and territorial, that made them to some degree predictable, at least in theory.
But theory rarely accounted for personal grudges, political maneuvering, or experimental weaponry. T’Fearne had no way of knowing which version of the silicon creatures they were facing now. That uncertainty sat quietly at the back of her thoughts as she monitored tactical, small hands steady on the console, mind working faster than ever.
T'Fearne: I can definitely keep us looking non-threatening, should we prefer to appear in a position weaker than we are, sir.
Kel: Good idea Lieutenant. Ensign Wren, can we create some fake readings showing the Ronin being in worse shape than it is? I believe "deceptive signaling" is what naturalists would call it.
A quick grin flickered across T’Fearne’s face, sharp and approving before she returned her attention to her display. The grin looked odd on a face so young.
Wren: ::snapping back to attention:: Oh, yes. I can vent some excess, uncharged gas to simulate a plasma leak. ::tapping in a few inputs:: As long as they don’t fire, they shouldn’t be able to tell the difference.
Nicolau: We could release the inertial dampeners in some of the outer sections but...huh...that's weird.
T’Fearne straightened slightly, fingertips barely brushing the upper edge of her tactical display.
T'Fearne: Lieutenant. What do you see?
Kel: Lt. Nicolau. You have something?
Nicolau: Well it's just...sir...the vessel isn't targeting us. We're not getting any signs of active sensor systems at all. As far as sensors are concerned it's just sitting there minding its business.
T’Fearne frowned. Her instincts prickled.
Kel: Are any of our probes still out there? Can we use them to get more intel on that vessel?
Wren: We withdrew all of them, save for the one that disappeared…. I wonder if it’s shifted back into phase. I’ll do a scan to see if it’s out there now.
The waiting stretched. T’Fearne felt a tightness in her chest not entirely from half healed ribs.She bounced up and down on her toes slightly before she forced them still, planting her boots firmly against the deck.
Nicolau: Sir, why would they bother with this staring contest? Wouldn't they just...attack?
T'Fearne: That is unlikely to be accidental. They may want us to be uncertain. Uncertainty erodes discipline. They are testing response thresholds. Perhaps we can’t detect their scans… or they are observing through alternate means.
Kel: That Lattice Alliance has proven tenacious time and again. I won't charge in until I know what I'm dealing with.
Wren suddenly leaned forward.
Wren: Sir, I’ve found our lost probe. It looks as though it’s about twenty years older, but it’s still putting out a signal. I’ll reconnect with it and send it closer for a scan.
Nicolau: That ship doesn't look like it was built for...talking, sir.
T’Fearne’s brows rose and she studied the probe’s feed as it sharpened. Giving them an up-close look at the intruder.
T'Fearne: The hostile ship is not registering as a known class of vessel, it has elements of Sheliak and Tholian technology. It must be a very new design. I’m reading layered hull armour and an advanced weapons array. An unusually high level of exotic radiation particles suggests the presence of a sencha weapon onboard their ship.
The small Vulcazoid reached reflexively for her pocket where her Sencha radiation boosters sat. If they were fired on with a Sencha weapon, she, Wren and possibly Kel would need to re-administer their inoculations before long or risk crashing out on the bridge.
The comm chirped sharply.
Esot: =/\= Anna Pavlova to Bridge. We are looking for clearance to launch. =/\=
Nicolau: =/\= Standby Pavlova, we have an unknown and potentially hostile vessel holding position relative to us. Suggest you...uh...launch aft. Keep the ship between you and the vessel as long as possible. Bridge out. =/\=
Kel: Any response now that's we're modulating our power grid.
Nicolau: None that I can see sir but...hang on...there's an energy spike in their lateral sensor arrays…
T’Fearne’s fingers flew across her console. It was likely just a scan, but she wanted to be ready to bring their weapons to bear.
Wren: Sir, they’ve spotted the probe, and have it in a tractor beam. I think- ::distracted by her console:: They’re hailing us through the probe, sir.
The hostile ship edged closer to just at the edge of weapons range.
T’Fearne hoped Wren was wrong and that the probe was merely picking up the hail and relaying it back. It would be best for the probe if it hadn’t been noticed by the large ship at all.
Nicolau: At least the waiting is over...sir. Standing by to maneuver…
T’Fearne felt the subtle vibration through the deck plates. Or perhaps it was her pulse.
Kel: Response
Wren: ::nodding:: It’s audio-only. Playing it now.
The audio crackled across the bridge.
B’hab: =/\= Attention, Federation starship Ronin, you are currently trespassing. =/\=
The voice was distorted and grating. It made a slight prickle run down T’Fearne’s spine.
Nicolau: Attempting to boost the signal gain, should improve the stability of the channel...can't do anything about the voice.
Kel/Wren: Response
Nicolau managed better than she had promised as audio steadied momentarily and a visual of the Alliance vessel appeared and they were able to see a cloaked and hooded figure, their features obscured.
B’hab: =/\= To put it simply, you have ten minutes to gather your crew and leave this system, and you will leave intact. You stay a minute over your welcome, and they’ll be salvaging your ship all over the system, piece by piece. And you are not the great Captain Niac, I take it you’re his wet nurse. =/\=
Nicolau: That won't give us a great deal of time, sir, whatever you decide to do.
T’Fearne drew a slow breath as Nicolau voiced exactly what had been circling her own thoughts.
T'Fearne: ::quietly:: They seem to know us, or know of the Ronin and Captain Niac at least.
Kel/Wren: Response
On the viewscreen the cloaked figure shifted subtly, the garment rippling as though something beneath it moved. T’Fearne found herself wishing that she could read whatever passed for emotions in silicon-based minds. She wasn’t even certain a Tholian or Sheliak would register properly to her empathic senses.
B’hab: =/\= Do not test me Captain. =/\=
Kel/Wren: Response
Nicolau muted the channel.
Nicolau: Channel muted sir. Do you think he'll do what he says Captain? I mean...can he? The destruction would be...enormous.
T'Fearne: ::arms folded:: They’re granting us time to evacuate. That suggests they prefer compliance without expending unnecessary munitions. Either their ordinance is limited… or they wish to avoid collateral damage to the moon’s infrastructure. ::brows knit slightly:: But they must realise evacuation would take longer than ten minutes. Sensors alone would confirm that. It’s not a realistic timeline.
Wren/Kel/Nicolau: Response
She unfolded her arms and rested both small palms lightly on the edge of the tactical console.
T'Fearne: Did you notice the cloak? The movement beneath it? I saw no ocular glow, no thermal distortion typical of Tholians. It read more… Sheliak. ::glancing toward the engineering officer:: Wren, can we still pull telemetry from the probe? Any indication of life-sign type aboard their vessel?
Wren/Kel/Nicolau: Response
T’Fearne nodded faintly to herself, thoughts aligning.
T'Fearne: If it’s Sheliak in charge onboard, they are precision-obsessed. Notoriously legalistic isolationists who treat territory and contracts as their way of life. They rarely bluff. ::a beat:: We could stall? Ask for time to review their legal claim to the system and the moon research base. We do have a JAG officer onboard. Lieutenant Morrow. If we also have access to any of the base’s personnel perhaps they could provide information useful for buying more time.
Wren/Kel/Nicolau: Response
T’Fearne straightened, unconsciously rising onto her toes again.
T'Fearne: If they value the base or its research, they won’t risk destroying it outright. They would have to send a force to the surface to eliminate or capture our people and secure any projects or data. ::highlighting an area above the base one the screen:: If we position ourselves tactically between their ship and the moon base, they may hesitate to fire on us for caution of hitting the moon base.
The area she indicated was perilously close to the radiation plume emanating from The Lid.
Wren/Kel/Nicolau: Response
[Tags / TBC]
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Security Officer
USS Ronin - NCC-34523
R240107T14