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Starfleet Mission Reports: Hunter and Prey
Starfleet Mission Reports: Hunter and Prey
#1
“Captains Log, Stardate 90611.63. After almost three months, our exploration mission into the Khazan Cluster is coming to an end. Having not yet received any orders to expedite our return via transwarp, I’ve placed us on course for Starbase 39 at Warp 9.5. The flight path  our helmsman has plotted should pass over several trade routes, giving us the chance to perform some anti-piracy sweeps as we go.”

***

“I’m almost sorry it’s over,” Lieutenant Smith commented, gloved hands moving over the helm controls as he adjusted the warp field slightly. “I mean, I’ve never had an exploration mission before. It’s my first look at what it used to be like, back in the days of Sulu and Kirk.”

“The old five-year exploration missions?” Aunlez Moral asked, not looking away from her own station.

The Tocraxian chuckled in confirmation. “Oh yeah. I grew up on those stories. One ship, all alone, out beyond the edge of explored space. No idea what they’d find in the next system. Mysterious aliens, stellar anomalies, ancient artifacts, and all they could rely on was their ship and crew...”

Leaning back in the captains chair as she studied the duty roster, Commander Thryiss Aniri smirked. “Why Mister Smith, I never realized you’re something of a romantic,” the ships XO joked.

Shrugging, the man turned his chair towards Aniri, face hidden, as always, behind his environmental suits visor. “Yeah, I’ll admit to that Commander. It’s why I joined Starfleet. I wanted to be one of those captains, setting off into the unknown. Or at the very least, the helmsman on one of those exploration ships. I’d be like the next Hikaru Sulu. Or Tom Paris at least,” he added in a thoughtful tone. “Ancestors, now that’d be something. The adventure of a lifetime.”

Aunlez didn’t bother to hide her smile, but before she could say anything, her console beeped for attention and she turned back to it. The smile faded, and she pressed several buttons, even as her left hand reached up to cover her earpiece. After a few moments, she turned towards the XO. “Commander, we’re picking up a signal on the Federation Merchant Marine frequencies. It’s pretty badly distorted, but I think it’s a distress signal.”

Friendly conversation on the bridge stopped instantly, as Commander Aniri spun her chair towards the comm officer. “Do you have a location?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

“Not yet,” the Trill woman replied, studying her consoles readouts, “but I’ve got a general direction. Approximately forty-eight by thirty-five off our current heading.” While Aniri turned to have Smith make a course chance, she listened to the signal again, starting to run an analysis on it. “It’s not distortion. The signal’s degraded from what looks like some sort of jamming. Merchant vessel... something Summer... attackers in pursuit...” She scowled and shook her head, trying to clean up the signal.

Considering that for a moment, the XO frowned, then tapped her commbadge. “Aniri to Hanagawa.”

***

Stepping out of the turbolift, Captain Priscilla Hanagawa made her way across the bridge to the ops officers station, where Commander Aniri had been in the middle of a discussion with Lieutenant Siysye. “Anything new?” she asked.

“I think so ma’am,” the Rigellian replied, entering a command into his console. The display shifted to show a map of the surrounding star systems. “I’ve sent test signals to a number of relay satellites and stations in the region. Most are coming back cleanly, but this area here-” he pointed to an area ahead and to the side of their current course, highlighted in red “-is showing a lot of poor signal strength or complete loss.” He frowned slightly. “I still can’t determine just what kind of jamming technology we’re looking at, but it appears to cover a radius of perhaps several light years.”

Commander Aniri took up the explanation, reaching up to trace a finger across the screen, her path passing through the highlighted area. “This path is the main route between Starbase 39 and the P’Rel system. There’s a lot of freighters that travel that route from the dilithium mines there. It’s a good spot for pirates that are brave enough to try picking a fight so close to a starbase.”

Priss rubbed the tip of her nose, considering that. “But it can’t be the ships chasing our freighter,” she said after a moment. “Unless this jamming technology is weaker than I’d expect a field that size to be. Which means they have another ship, or maybe something more fixed, and the Summer is on the edge of the field.” She frowned. “Those ships could be less than five light years away, and we can’t see them?”

Siysye nodded. “Which suggests that it’s not just communications being jammed. Matter-antimatter reactions, warp fields, everything you’d expect to see at this range, nowhere to be seen. Based off what seems to have happened to the distress signal and our own test signals, I think we’re looking at some kind of dampening field. We’ve redirected our main sensor arrays to focus on the area, and Chief Rossum is calibrating them for increased sensitivity. We should have more detail on how the field works soon, and whatever’s in there, they can’t hide completely. We’ll find them.”

“Keep at it,” Priss said, then stepped back towards the command chairs, her exec following. “What do you think?” the Captain asked. “Romulans?”

“Maybe. The Star Empire has always had an interest in stealth technology,” Aniri replied. “But using it for what, piracy? Seems like a bit of a waste. It might be the Klingons, or more likely one of their client nations. The Nausicaans or the Syndicate would love something like this. Depending on what the field generator is built into, they could park on a trade route, ambush ships as they come into the dead zone, then move on once enough disappearances are noticed. And once we start to clue in, we’d need to find even more ships for anti-piracy patrols. Again.” Scowling, the Andorian woman sat down and considered the main viewscreen, watching the stars.

“It does seem to be the way of things,” Priss agreed, taking a seat herself. “Once Siysyes team is done with their analysis, I want you to contact Starbase 39. Even if they can’t give us additional information, best they know about it before we get too close and our own communications start to suffer.”

Even as her first officer nodded, the green-skinned woman leaned back in her chair, letting her bridge crew continue to work. It was a familiar routine by now, and she felt no need to meddle. For now, she focused her attention on the mystery they were looking at. There was something lurking at the edge of her memory, something about communications technology, but the more she tried to focus on it, the more the thought slipped away. After almost a minute, she shook her head slightly and put the issue aside for now, even as she watched Aunlez straighten up in her chair. “Siy, I’m sending you some possible coordinates,” she told the Rigellian, transferring it to the other officers station.

Leaning in closer to his own screen, the sensor officer made a thoughtful noise, adjusting the sensor arrays slightly and considering what it reported back to him. “Okay then...” he murmured, then raised his voice. “Captain, I have multiple contacts moving at Warp speed. First target is five point seven light years away, moving towards us at warp eight point one. Warp field and power emissions are consistent with a Caravan class freighter. Second target is six point two light years away, in a pursuit course of target one, speed warp eight point one five.” He frowned slightly. “Second target appears to be multiple ships, with overlapping warp fields. Between that and the dampening field inhibiting sensors, I can’t determine type or exact numbers yet.”

“That distress signal is definately coming from the freighter ma’am,” Aunlez added. “It’s still being affected by the dampening field, but I should be able to establish audio communications, at the very least.”

Crossing her legs, Priss nodded. “Hail them.” Twenty seconds later, the viewscreens image shifted, showing the cramped bridge of the freighter, with three Andorians visible. The man at the central station, middle-aged and with a thick white beard, looked back at them as the other two kept working. “This is Captain Priscilla Hanagawa of the USS Jeff Wayne,” she announced. “We’ve detected your distress signal and have altered our course to intercept.”

On the viewscreen, the freighter captain looked skeptical for a brief moment, likely in response to the fact he was looking at an Orion woman claiming she was a Starfleet captain. Priss ignored that with only the usual brief flare of irritation, because the man seemed to get over it quickly, relief evident in his voice as he spoke. “Captain Gerral Shral of the Andorian Merchant Vessel Frozen Summer. It’s good to see you Captain Hanagawa,” he continued, voice distorted slightly by the signal strength flickering. “We were starting to wonder if anyone was hearing us.”

“They’ve got some impressive jamming technology,” Priss admitted. “It’s still affecting our sensors somewhat. We can see something following you, but we can’t identify ship type or even their exact numbers.”

Gerral nodded in understanding. “There’s three ships, although no one here recognizes the designs. They came out of nowhere, about five hours ago now. Right as we passed them they fired up their warp drives and gave us a broadside out of nowhere, then started chasing us.” He scowled, shaking his head. “There’s something odd about it. We’re pushing our warp drive to a hundred and twenty percent of recommended output, and I thought they were doing the same to try and keep up with us. They’re only getting close enough for a few shots with their energy weapons every twenty minutes or so, then cutting their speed and dropping back slightly.” He glanced at his console for a moment, checking something, then looked back up at the viewscreen. “The thing is, one of them got close enough about half an hour ago for us to get a better look at their warp fields, and they’re hardly pushing it. They should be able to manage warp nine at least,” he explained, almost growling. “It’s like they’re... playing with us for some insane reason.”

Eyes narrowing, Priss considered that. “Not at all like pirates in Federation space,” she mused, then glanced at the console in her arm rest. “At current velocities, we’ll reach each other in... just over three hours. We’ll try to cut some time off that at this end,” she assured the man.

“I doubt we can get much more speed here,” the freighter captain admitted. “But if these bastards keep fooling around like they have been, we should be able to reach you. So far they haven’t even knocked down our shields. I’m sending a copy of our sensor logs to you now. Maybe they’ll help you work out who they are.”

“I appreciate that Captain,” Priss replied. “With any luck, we’ll see you in person soon enough. Jeff Wayne out.” The viewscreen reverted to open space, and Priss glanced at Aunlez, who nodded, confirming she’d received the data from Frozen Summer. Giving it a moments thought, she tapped her commbadge. “Hanagawa to Rossum.”

“Go ahead.”

“Chief, how much more speed can we get out of the engines?” she asked.

“By the book, or with a little creativity?” the chief engineer enquired.

Priss chuckled slightly. “I’m willing to put up with BuShips growling at me over a bit of ‘unjustified’ wear and tear on the nacelles,” she said with a faint smile, and the other woman chuckled.

“Well then, have the helm dial it up. I’ll yell at him when he pushes too hard.”

“You heard the woman Mister Smith,” Priss said. “Punch it.”

“Aye aye Captain,” the encounter-suited man replied, entering commands into his console, the ship beginning to vibrate slightly as it accelerated. It started with a faint buzzing sensation in the deckplates, increasing into a shaking so intense it seemed to rattle the bones, before Smith made several careful adjustments to the warp field, and the engineering team several hundred meters below and behind them worked to control the warp core even as they pulled more power from it. Eventually Smith made a slight twitch that Priss guessed was caused by Megan Rossum yelling at him via his suits internal comm system, the vibrations reduced to a faint buzz, and the Tocraxian made a noise of satisfaction, making one last adjustment before turning back to his captain. “Nine point nine eight,” he reported cheerfully. “Estimated time to the Frozen Summer is now about two hours, eleven minutes.”

Megan Rossum’s voice came through the Captains comm-badge, backed by the intense roar of the ships warp core. “We can hold this speed for that long no problem Skipper,” she said with a cheerfulness at odds with the chaos Priss suspected was filling the engine room right now. “I’m guessing we’ll be looking at some excitement when we’re done with our morning run?”

“You guess correctly, I suspect,” Priss replied, as amused as ever at the engineers attitude.

“I’ll make sure our girl’s ready for it,” the other woman said, before ending the communication.

***
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#2
Very nice. Tightly written. 

Is the guy at the helm in the encounter suit your version of a Quarian?
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#3
More Tholian/Volus then Quarian. John Smith (Real name is actually a low frequency radio wave pattern) is from one of the Federations first Demon-class worlds. He's actually a crystalline lifeform that has to spend all his time outside his modified quarters in a pressure suit. In-game, he wears one of the environmental suits from Nukara Prime.
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#4
When I read "encounter suited man," I thought of Kosh. The idea of a Vorlon at the helm made me go cross-eyed for a moment, but was worth a good chuckle. Every command would get a mind-twisting answer, and a demand for explanations would leave the Captain with more question than when s/he started. Smile
---
Those who fear the darkness have never seen what the light can do.
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#5
DRAG0NFLIGHT Wrote:When I read "encounter suited man," I thought of Kosh. The idea of a Vorlon at the helm made me go cross-eyed for a moment, but was worth a good chuckle. Every command would get a mind-twisting answer, and a demand for explanations would leave the Captain with more question than when s/he started. Smile
It could be Kosh from UF, who appears to have just been playing Pac-Man when first appearing on screen....
--
Sucrose Octanitrate.
Proof positive that with sufficient motivation, you can make anything explode.
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#6
“It’s no wonder they didn’t see the pirates until they opened fire,” Siysye muttered, his mottled brown face creased in frustration as he considered the Frozen Summers sensor logs. “I don’t know where they got their sensor arrays from, but if they’re lucky, they might just notice a star before they crashed into it at warp speed.”

Further down the conference room table, Thryiss Aniri didn’t quite suppress a snort. “Sounds about right. The Andorian Mining Consortium owns the Summer, and the Board of Directors make a pre-Zek Ferengi look like a philanthropist.”

Wincing slightly at the mental image that provided, Priss pushed the issue aside. “So, what do the logs tell us?” she asked.

“One of the ships is rather small, barely a frigate, and it seems to be hanging back somewhat, but I suspect the other two larger ships may be the same class,” Thryiss replied. “Although they’ve both seen a lot of wear and tear over the years, going by how different their warp fields appear to be. Those two seem to be the main aggressors. In the logs Captain Shral transmitted, they’re the pair that keep moving forward to give the Summer trouble.” Pressing a button on the table in front of her, she turned to the rooms main monitor, which was replaying a scene from the Summers logs at an accelerated rate. They all watched as the two ships in question closed on the Frozen Summer, splitting up to flank it from two sides. Once they were close enough to link up their warp fields, the pair briefly opened fire on the freighter with beam weapons, before cutting their velocity and falling back with their targets shields reduced by less than a third.

When the recording paused, Lieutenant Smith took over the report. “Like Shral said, they’ve been making the same sort of maneuver pretty consistently ever since the chase began. And from what I’ve seen of the pursuers emissions, I think he’s right about the fact they’re not really pushing their engines to run him down.” The man leaned back in his chair, body language radiating disgust even through his bulky encounter suit. “They’re drawing it out, tormenting the Frozen Summer for some reason.”

Priss frowned, something about the comment pulling her attention back to her earlier stray thought regarding the jamming technology. “Do we know what kind of beam weapons they used?” she asked, trying to work out the puzzle.

Siysye shook his head. “Like I said, they haven’t exactly invested in decent sensors. Even the effects of the weapons hitting their shields aren’t well documented. So far, all I’ve been able to confirm is that they’re not armed with phasers or plasma weapons,” he admitted, referring to the two most common beam weapons in this region of space. “It’s likely something more exotic, but without better sensor logs, or the chance to see them in action ourselves, we might not be able to give you a specific answer.”

Sipping at her coffee, Aunlez frowned. “Will we even be able to tell ourselves, with that dampening field in place?” the Trill asked.

“We should be able to,” Siysye replied. “Our mystery pirates are far enough away from the center of the field that, combined with our much better sensors, we should be able to get a good look at any weapons emissions.” Waving a hand in faint irritation, he picked up his padd again. “What I don’t get is why they’re still haven’t reacted to us. The way we’re pushing the engines, and as close to the edge of the field as they are, we should stand out like a supernova on their sensors. But they’re still flying right at us. If they turned and ran back into the field, we might lose sight of them.”

“They’re pirates,” Smith responded, almost snorting in contempt. “Intelligence and common sense are pretty damn nonexistent among that collection of idiots. Hell, maybe they think they can take us and figure they might as well let us come in, save themselves the trouble of hunting us down,” he added, sounding slightly eager.

Thryiss gave the tactical officer a sharp look. “Maybe they actually can ‘take us’ Lieutenant,” she pointed out. “They outnumber us, and pirates do tend to at least be smart enough to recognize the need for sufficient firepower.” Smith shifted slightly in his chair, catching the warning the First Officer was giving him, and she decided he’d gotten the point. Before she could move the conversation on however, Priss straightened in her chair, her expression shifting to one of slight alarm. “Captain?”

“Hunting,” the smaller woman said, all the pieces of the idea in the back of her mind coming together as she turned to look at Siysye. “Lieutenant, have your people run a comparison of the data we have so far against Tetyron weaponry.” Blinking, the ops officer nodded, entering a message into his padd, as Priss looked around the room. “There’s only one species in explored space that uses Tetyron weapons,” she noted, “but they’re a lot closer to here then I think we remembered.”

Nodding, Thryiss leaned forward. “The Hirogen. Empress Sela’s been using them to maintain her grip on the Star Empire. Given their obsession with ‘The Great Hunt’, their advanced firepower and their general lack of respect for anyone that isn’t them, it wouldn’t surprise me if a few packs decided to leave Romulan space and find other people to stalk and kill.” She frowned slightly, antennae curling as she considered the matter. “The part I don’t see is how the Hirogen could get their hands on the sort of technology to create that dampening field. That kind of science and development... isn’t the sort of thing they normally bother with.”

That was something of an understatement. For centuries, the Hirogens entire culture had been focused on the hunt of beings they considered suitable prey. That obsessive focus, combined with the willingness to turn on their own if they were considered to lack the strength to defend themselves, had created an entire species only able to remain in space thanks to the quality of their ancestors ship designs and replicator technology. The only ‘innovation’ the Hirogen were capable of now was finding new tricks for exploiting technology they didn’t truly understand.

Putting her coffee cup down, Aunlez looked thoughtful. “Actually ma’am, if it is the Hirogen, it might not be something new. Back when Voyager first encountered the Hirogen in the Delta Quadrant, they possessed an impressive communications network that covered a large portion of the galaxy. It was how Voyager managed to tell Starfleet they were still alive.”

“And then Voyager managed to blow up most of the network,” Priss added, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “But any system that’s handled the Hirogen mistreating it for centuries might have been able to at least partly survive whatever Admiral Janeway did to it, and some of those relay stations were in this region. Of course, it’s entirely possible my theory’s completely off base and we’re looking at some other sort of troublemaker,” she admitted.

A beep from Siysyes padd drew everyones attention, and the man skimmed it quickly before nodding and looking up. “You might not be wrong Captain,” he said. “CIC’s done a quick analysis, and they place a high degree of confidence in the possibility of Tetyon weapons being used.” It wasn’t a complete confirmation, but that didn’t surprise Priss. Even taking into account the limited information they still had, Siysye tended to be very defensive about committing to anything that could prove him wrong.

Leaning forward, Lenita Shinko spoke up for the first time in the meeting, her expression as sour as ever. “Captain, if it is Hirogen, I’m going to have to pull my people away from damage control to focus on internal security.” Across the table, Megan Rossum stiffened and opened her mouth to argue, but the Security Chief met her with a glare. “I’ve faced Hirogen before, and I guarantee you that the moment they think our shields have been weakened enough, they’ll start trying to beam raiding parties on board,” she growled. “They’ll target weapons, engineering and the bridge, not out of tactical considerations, but because that’s where the best ‘trophies’ are. I’ll need my people with phasers out, not pulling random crap off the top of your engineers when an eight-foot tall, sword wielding lunatic beams in next to them.”

Rossum met Shinko’s glare with one of her own, and for a moment Priss was half convinced the woman was going to jump the table. Again. Then the woman nodded and leaned back, conceding the point. “Fair enough. But if that’s the case, I think we should pass out sidearms among my people, just in case.” Shinko nodded, slightly reluctantly, and the engineer continued. “I’ll have the shield array crews try to rig it to defend a bit better against transporters, see if we can improve our odds of keeping them out.”

Looking at the Captain, Shinko nodded slightly. “You’ll have a plan for shipboard defense within twenty minutes,” she promised.

“I’ll start checking up on Hirogen ship tactics,” Smith noted.

“We’ll have an answer on if they are Hirogen within half an hour,” Siysye added.

Running her eyes across the conference room, Priss considered her officers, then nodded in satisfaction. “Very well, you all have work to do. I’ll let you get to it. Dismissed.” Everyone rose and began filing out of the room, but Priss noted that Thryiss was lingering behind. “Something on your mind?” she asked as the door closed.

“Regardless of what these ships might be, Hirogen or more conventional pirates, we’re going to be outnumbered in this fight,” Thryiss pointed out. “And we still don’t know what’s inside the dampening field. They could have reinforcements waiting in there.” She stepped over to the table again and entered a command that brought up a map of surrounding space. “The Bendigo is less than twelve hours away. They can’t make it here in time to help with our mystery raiders, but their assistance could be very useful later.”

Tilting her head to the side, Priss considered that for a long moment. “Not yet,” she said at last, tapping a finger against the information underneath the USS Bendigo’s icon. “They’re escorting the new Ambassador to the Tirolian Alliance. I’d rather not disrupt that unless we have to. Reluctantly, her Exec conceded that point with a faint nod. “In the meantime, I’m confident we have the situation under control.” She smiled at the Commanders expression. “Hopefully that’s not overconfidence, but we have seen worse odds before,” she pointed out.

“I’ll admit to that,” Thryiss said, smiling again as she picked up her padd. “And at least there’s no sign of Drake this time.” Her captain chuckled, and the Andorian shrugged. “I’ll take Hirogen over that scumbag any day.”

“The Hirogen we can at least shoot,” Priss noted with a smirk as she left the conference room, Thryiss following right behind her.

***
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#7
***

When she returned to the bridge, almost twenty minutes later, Priss couldn’t really find any of the wry humor she’d had during the discussion with her exec. The reason for her current dark mood was displayed for all to see on the main viewscreen. Light-years away, still well beyond the Jeff Waynes reach, two of the three raider ships were closing in on the Frozen Summer, just as they’d all expected would happen. Even if they followed the same pattern of behaviour they had before Aunlez had detected the Summers distress signal, no one liked having to watch it happen in front of them. “Time?” she asked as she sat down

“Two minutes until they can link warp fields and open fire,” Thryiss replied, her own expression troubled. “Speaking of warp fields, we’re getting a look at theirs at the moment. Siysye has his people comparing them to known Hirogen ships.”

Nodding, Priss looked at the main viewscreen, expression as level as she could manage it. “That’s something. And if they keep to the pattern they’ve been following since before we even picked up the distress signal, this is just more harassment,” she said, but she could hear the uncertainty in her own voice.

Checking her stations console, the XO scowled. “Times like this, I really wish Starfleet Command had given us the slipstream refits,” she muttered. “Conventional warp drives just aren’t fast enough.”

"All that would happen then is that we'd encounter problems even further away, still just out of reach," Priss replied with a slight shrug and a shake of her head. "It's the way of the galaxy, I suspect."

Antennae twitching, Thryiss considered her captain. "Where did you learn that kind of patience?" she asked, managing a faint smile.

“One of the benefits of the medical track,” she replied. “You learn the hard way that there’s times all you can do is wait and watch.” Even as she spoke, the image on the screen altered, icons shifting, and the warp fields of the pursuing ships wrapped around the Frozen Summers. A heartbeat later, the flare of energy weapons appeared in the space between ships.

“Pirate ships have fired,” Siysye reported, somewhat unnecessarily. “The Frozen Summers shields are holding.” Priss turned towards the man as he studied his stations readouts. After almost ten seconds, he nodded slightly and turned towards her. “Initial analysis complete Captain. Hostile targets weapons show a ninety-eight percent similarity to known Tetryon weapons. Warp fields are extremely similar to known Hirogen designs. Targets Alpha and Beta match records of the Hunter Escort design.”

Nodding, Priss turned back to the main screen. “Thank you Lieutenant,” she said calmly, watching the ships continue to fire on the Frozen Summer. They were taking their time, firing steadily but slowly, letting their victims shields regain their strength. “Continue your analysis. Anything you find, I suspect we’ll be able to make use of.”

Leaning in close, Thryiss kept her voice low. “Don’t take this the wrong way ma’am, but I was hoping you were wrong. Everything I’ve seen says that Hirogen ships tend to be... rather unpleasant.”

“Honestly, I was hoping it was just some pirates as well,” the Orion admitted. “I think we can take them on, but we probably will take a few hard knocks putting them down.” She sighed slightly. “And they sure as hell won’t surrender.”

“Honor code,” the XO said with a sigh of her own.

“Monoculture fanaticism,” Priss shot back, scowling. “Well, at least they’re not that likely to run. A Thunderchild like the Jeff Wayne should get them nice and eager for an exciting hunt.” The smile she gave her XO was hardly what one would call pleasant. “They’ll be expecting the firepower, but if we’re smart, we should still be able to give the bastards a good kick in the teeth.” The Andorian met her smile with one of her own, her tactical training and experience already thinking of ideas, when the sound of the turbolift caught their attention. Looking up from their private conversation, they saw Lieutenant Smith step onto the bridge and walk towards them. “How goes the study of Hirogen tactics?” the Captain enquired.

Waving a hand in what both women had come to recognize as his demonstration of an annoyed grimace, the man stopped a respectful distance from the Captains chair. “Productive, but worrying,” he admitted. “They won’t be trying to outright kill us, but they’ll have the ships to manage some effective flanking maneuvers. Those Tetyron weapons they’re so fond of are going to be hell on the shields, but it’s their usual choice in Torpedoes I’m really worried about.”

“Transphasic,” Priss replied, remembering her own studies. Brute force weapons that mostly relied on sheer kinetic force, they got their name from their ability to penetrate energy fields with ease, leaving the target within exposed. She glanced at the main viewscreen, considering the fact that the Hirogen ships seemed to be sticking entirely to their beam weapons for the moment. A limited supply of torpedoes perhaps, or were they simply prolonging the Frozen Summers misery?

“Yes ma’am,” Smith confirmed, pulling her attention back to him. “They tend to try and get into position to target warp nacelles and engines. Cripple their targets main power and maneuverability, then wear it down with high speed hit and run attacks. Each ship in a pack tends to have a pretty defined role though. If we can break their formation, force them to split up, even for a minute or two, I think we might be able to counter that effectively.”

Leaning back in her chair, Thryiss considered that for a moment. “Heavy assault on the frigate? Smallest ship in the pack, after all.”

“But built with a lot more armor and shielding than you’d expect in something that size,” Smith disagreed. “And because it’s the smallest, the Hirogen probably won’t give much of a damn about it. They’ve got this ‘only the strongest hunters thrive’ attitude,” he pointed out with another wave of his hand.

“One of the Escorts then,” Priss mused. “Burn its shields, tear into the armor. At the very least, we should be able to surprise it on our initial pass-” she paused as the situation on the main viewscreen shifted and Siysye made an alarmed noise. “Lieutenant?”

“It’s the Summers shields Captain,” he replied. “The Hirogen aren’t burning through them deliberately, I think it’s just that the AMC went for cheap generators that weren’t designed for a long-term chase like this one.”

Looking at the viewscreen, Priss saw the Frozen Summers icon shift as its shield began to fail. “How long can it last?”

The sensor officer growled under his breath. “Two minutes, and that’s if the Hunters stop firing-” An alarm beeped, and his next growl was much louder, almost a snarl. “They’ve fired torpedoes!” he reported, two icons appearing on the viewscreen. “Type unknown, ten seconds to impact.”

Priss bit her lip, watching the torpedoes race in. The demonstration of the typical Hirogen mindset was almost infuriating. The moment their victim showed the slightest sign of weakness, they moved in for the kill, and there was nothing the Jeff Wayne could do to stop it. Her earlier comment to her XO about patience came to mind again, and she resisted the urge to punch her chair arm in frustration.

Icons changed on the viewscreen as the torpedoes reached their target, barely slowing as they passed through the Summers shields and slammed into the ships warp nacelles. Instantly, the ships warp field collapsed and the freighter dropped back to sublight speeds, accidentally avoiding the next salvo of Tetyron beams as the Hirogen overshot them. Priss watched the trio of ships drop of out of warp to come about and micro-jump back to the Frozen Summer, then turned her attention towards Navigation. “New time to intercept?” she asked.

“One hundred-fifteen minutes,” came the reply, and the Captain didn’t quite suppress a wince. It was almost as long as when they’d originally contacted the Frozen Summer, and made it painfully clear that there was nothing they could do. Even if the Hirogen didn’t try and run once they were done with their victims, it seemed that the best that the Jeff Wayne could hope for now was to avenge them.

“Now what do we do?” Thryiss said quietly, her own desperation leaking into her voice.

Biting her lip for a moment, Priss considered everything she knew about the Hirogen, then shook her head slightly. “I don’t,” she began, then paused, eyes narrowing. She watched the main viewscreen for a moment, eyes on the Hirogen ships as they reached the Frozen Summer and spread out to surround it. “A monoculture built around the honor of the hunt and personal fame and glory,” she said quietly, then rose from her chair. “Lieutenant Moral, I want you to translate into Hirogen and broadcast on every frequency we can manage. I want them to hear this,” she ordered. “And I want them to know anyone else listening can hear it.”

Turning back to her console, the communications officer entered commands, even as Thryiss leaned forward. “What are you planning Captain?” she asked, curious despite the situation.

“Applying a variant of Klingon diplomacy,” Priss replied, managing a faint smirk before glancing at Aunlez. The Trill turned towards her and nodded, and the Captains expression hardened. “This is Captain Priss Hanagawa of the USS Jeff Wayne to the scavenger ships currently trying, oh so bravely, to overcome an unarmed freighter through sheer numbers,” she announced, voice almost dripping with contempt. “Our scans confirm that your ships are of Hirogen origin, which means I’d rather like to know where you stole them from.”

Silence swept across the bridge as the crew tried not to turn to stare at their Captain in surprise. Thryiss, for her part, merely worked to keep a wide grin off her face. Klingon Diplomacy indeed. “The Hirogen are said to be the galaxies greatest hunters,” Priss continued. “Stories about their courage, bravery and skill have spread to the distant corners of the galaxy. Given that the three of you are having trouble catching up to and capturing a single, unarmed freighter, I suspect you must be someone else. Scavengers that waited until the ships owners were away on business perhaps, then stole them while no one was looking?”

Morals console beeped at her, and the Trill officer quickly accepted the incoming transmission and redirected it to the main screen. The tactical image moved to one side as the face of what was easily recognizable as a Hirogen appeared, a face ridged and mottled skin, with the curved, spiked helmet around it. "We are the Hunters," it growled, showing sharp, pointed teeth. "You are Prey, nothing more. Remember your pla-"

"That's nice imagery," the Starfleet captain interrupted, seemingly ignoring the Hirogens words. "You've put a lot of work into looking like a Hirogen. The armor, the skin tones and patterns, even the emphasis on the Hunter and Prey. But like I said, your actions make it clear what you really are. Nothing more than cowardly scavengers," she said with an amused smirk. Out of the corner of her eye, she checked the tactical view, watching as the Hirogen ships, responding to this new development, actually paused in their attack, listening to their Alpha and watching as his face twisted in the patterns that tended to be used for burning rage in almost every humanoid race known.

“I am Kran, the Alpha of this Pack,” the Hirogen snarled. “I have led the Hunt against Prey you could not even hope to imagine-”

Interrupting a second time, Priss simply talked right over him. “You can’t even take on an unarmed freighter alone,” she said dismissively. “You chased them for a few hours, then actually got serious about taking them down after we came after you. Let me guess, you’re planning on trying to run fast enough we lose sight of you.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Now I really hope you’re not Hirogen. I was looking forward to a decent fight when I met them."

On the screen, Krans face darkened with even greater rage. “You arrogant little Federation fool!” he roared. “You insult the honor of my Pack, of me, and then you claim that you would-”

“Take you down? Absolutely,” the Starfleet captain smirked. “You claim to be Hirogen, to be the True Hunters. Your ‘Prey’ is someone that can’t even fight back.” Her smirk shifted into something darker, more primal. “My Prey has been... Spectacular. I have faced Klingons and Gorn, both in space and on the ground, with guns and blades and bare hands. I was victorious. I have fought the Crystaline Entity, the Undine, even the Borg, and won. I have fought creatures from beyond this dimension and prevailed.” She stepped closer to the viewscreen, looking into Krans eyes as they widened, sensing the truth of her words. “The Hirogen should be another great battle, another true Hunt, a worthy trophy. But you-”

“WE ARE HIROGEN!” The bellow actually caused some distortion in the speakers, and Priss managed to keep her face in the challenging expression she needed for this moment.

“Then prove it. You want a challenge, a true Hunt? I’m right here. Bring your pack, bring your Hunters. Prove you’re not just a pack of scavengers.” She smirked again. “Whichever of us has air pressure when we’re done gets a trophy worth telling stories about.”

For twenty long, silent seconds, Kran didn’t answer, his glare meeting her eyes, body tense as if he was to try and lunge through the monitor at her. Captain Hanagawa simply returned his glare with a confident smirk, waiting. Eventually though, the man growled, the glare fading ever so slightly. “Should you prove to be unworthy prey, I will make your death slow and painful,” he warned her, before ending the communication.

Resisting the urge to make a sarcastic comment about how she was suddenly motivated to fight, Priss turned her full attention to the tactical display. As she and her entire bridge crew watched, the Hirogen ships altered course, breaking away from the Frozen Summer and accelerating back into warp. “Lieutenant Siysye, speed and time to intercept?” she asked, voice now much more serious than what she’d shown Kran.

“They’re moving at warp nine point nine five... our vectors will intercept in twenty three minutes,” the sensor officer reported, and Priss nodded.

“All right then,” the Captain said thoughtfully, looking around her bridge. “Moral, see if you can contact the Summer, I want an update on their status. Commander,” she continued, turning to Thryiss, “I want all stations ready to go to red alert at least five minutes before intercept.”

She gave off several more orders, the crew quickly recovering from the show their captain had just given and moving to obey. Even as she checked the internal security situation, the Exec studied her Captain, who had returned to her chair and was studying the main viewscreen with a frown. Ending her call to the security chief, she leaned forward, pitching her voice low enough to go unheard by the crew. “Well, that was certainly an unconventional solution,” she mused.

Frown briefly shifting to a scowl, the smaller woman shook her head. “Not really a good one,” she admitted. “Lure in a squadron full of fanatical murderers by telling them they’re cowards going after an easy kill, so come and try us?” Sighing, Priss ran a hand through her hair. “Desperation move.”

“Yeah, I can see that coming back to haunt us,” Thryiss agreed. “And then there’s Admiral T’Nae. She’ll have something to say on the matter, no doubt.” Priss barely held back a snort at that comment. The Andorians voice was so deliberately level that it was hilarious. “Honestly ma’am, it was either getting the Hirogen angry with the truth, or letting them kill the Summer’s crew. Not exactly a difficult choice. Plus, you seem to be very talented at Klingon Diplomacy.”

Nodding slightly, Priss conceded the point. “Thank you Exec,” she said with a slight smile, then glanced over at Moral as the Trill turned towards her and nodded. “Now to see if Captain Shral can take advantage of my negotiating style,” she added dryly.

***
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#8
*HEADBUTT*"Ha! She understands!" 

Klingon diplomacy indeed. Damn, I'm definitely looking forward to this. 
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#9
And Star Ranger got it... then I got it after he *groaned* In-game. 
Thunderchild... Jeff Wayne... 

I must contrive to hurt you badly next time I see you in-game somehow. Tongue

Though seriously - I do hope this Thunderchild fares better than the one from War of the Worlds. ^^;;;
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#10
In fairness, it was V that came up with the name. Also in fairness, I thought it was the best idea I'd heard in ages and went with it.
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#11
I think I've been reading too much Honor Harrington lately. The first thing I started thinking of when I reached the end of that section was that Priss had just engineered a perfect strategic situation she could take advantage of.
The enemy isn't thinking clearly. They're charging head-on at her ship, with minimum attention paid to things like strategy. They just want blood, and they intend to close to phaser/torpedo range to get it. That gives her all the advantages.
Take a photon torpedo. Rip out the explosive ordnance and fit it with enough electronic warfare gear to make it a hole in space. Do this with a handful of such torpedoes. Then fire them toward the enemy warships. Their miniscule warp drives will burn out long before they get close enough to be picked up by Hirogen sensors, and their EW gear will hide them from passive scans. As long as the Hirogen continue to fly in a completely predictable pattern, several waves of these torpedoes will hit them at warp, or near-warp speeds, and blow away at least a few of them before the pack realizes what's happened. For a weapon moving at that speed, considering both objects are closing at warp speeds, the payload would be largely worthless. The impact energy alone would be enough to blow away a ship. Especially if there were several following the first one. Impact from the first would make reaction all but impossible as the enemy force is tossed around inside their ship, and the follow-up shots would take out the vessel.
After the first salvo, the remaining Hirogen ships will break formation to try to avoid any further salvos. As they do, a couple of photorps which had their explosive payload replaced entirely with a small power core and some EW gear to hide their signatures follow along behind a the groups, using the EW to spy on communications and keep Priss' ship apprised of their activities. They don't collide, they just trail along behind and avoid notice. If they're noticed and destroyed, so be it. It's just a potential advantage she might create.
Priss' ship targets the weakest ships in the force. To the Hirogen, this is just Darwinism at work, and they won't care. To her, it eliminates weapon carriers, reducing the threat to her ship. Meanwhile, as the Hirogen are attempting to maneuver behind her for the instinctive kill shot, her shuttle bay personnel are arming and deploying clusters of mines equipped with as much EW stealth tech as they can operate. The mines would be tractor weapons, locking on to the Hirogen ships as they maneuver for the shot their instinctive training tells them is the most desirable, and causing them to run head-on into the prepared pattern of photon mines.
While any ships which survive that explosion will be a lot more cautious, and the fight may devolve into the usual Trek-style phaser shooting match, there will be a lot less Hirogen ships, and those left will be a lot more cautious in their approach, which also gives Priss the tactical advantage.
---
Those who fear the darkness have never seen what the light can do.
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#12
If that's the way Honor Harrington fights, I really must read those books. 
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#13
While it's quite clever, thanks to the mechanics I've worked out for the space combat, that plan isn't that workable actually. I've been working with the 'rules' that shields are very effective against kinetic weapons most of the time, having evolved from the deflectors that protect ships from impacts with things at signifigant fractions or multiples of C. That's what makes the Hirogens transphasic torpedoes so effective, in that they can manage to penetrate the targets shields and hit the ship underneath. That, and I'm using the approach that most torpedoes rely on their origin ships warp field to move at FTL speeds. In the last installment, you'll notice that the Hirogen didn't fire at all until they were close enough their warp field could reach over the Frozen Summer.

As for the mines, again, not a bad idea, just not quite workable in the approach I'm taking to the setting. One, because it's hard to stay on a ships tail with a lot of the aft weapons you can fit in STO. Second, the Jeff Wayne doesn't really carry many mines. I (and thus, my captains) really aren't big fans of them. That said, the crew in the hanger bay are going to be up to something nasty.

I will admit I'm planning on trying to have the fight be interesting, and Priss will be fighting smart, and while I'm not going to give too many spoilers, Logan should be able to guess an early part of the fight from a discussion we had in STO the other week...
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#14
Oooh.... you're going to use "The Scorpion" package, aren't you? ^_^
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#15
The 'we cut off the wings to fit' discussion? Nope, not that one. Timeline wise, this is right near the beginning of the Federations Romulan arc. B'Vat's discovered that his men weren't exaggerating about the skill level of the cute lil' Orion with the Tholian Sword, and Franklin Drake's earned himself a place on her 'people whose faces need kicking in' list. Priss currently lacks access to even the mission reward Scorpions, much less the carrier ones.

While the Jeff Wayne does have several shuttles and a Delta Flyer, they're not outfitted for fighter duty and carrier support. More then that, besides Smith, there aren't really pilots on board with the skill (And crazyness) to fly shuttles into combat.

I'm going to have a LOT of spare time the next few days, so I'll see if I can't get the next instalment ready to go quicker then the previous one.
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#16
Oh no - sorry. When I say "Scorpion Package" I am most definitely not referring to the fighters. (though I now remember that conversation now that you jogged my memory)
See, Aisha Sohaiz - my KDF Orion - follows the usual KDF method of fighting where you have mostly cannons or narrow arc weapons on the front and you fight facing the other ship instead of fighting "broadsides" as Fed Cruisers tend to do. But if you are forced to turn away or make a passing attack then what? You've got to turn back around like a fighter or escort to get your forward weapons trained again. But KDF cruisers, even though they are generally more nimble in a turn than Fed Cruisers, are still a touch slow compared to a BOP. 

So I have a "Scorpions Tail" in the form of a set of a Breen Transphasic Cluster Torpedo. That thing is NASTY. I sometimes call it her "Going away" present. Because after she's gotten through blowing down most of the shields, makes a sharp turn at almost 90 degrees, and leaves behind what amounts to a set of MIRV Missiles tipped with nukes to finish the job, her foe is almost certainly going away. 
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#17
Well, I was basing my interpretation of photorps off of the Memory Alpha site, which has some obsessively detailed analyses of how fast the various warp speeds are as of the TNG era. Because the value is arbitrary, and the warp curve gets redrawn every time engines get so efficient everyone's hanging around in the 9+ range.
According to the site, Warp 9.9 is 21,473 time the speed of light, with an average travel time of about 4 billion miles per second. Warp 9 is only a piddling 834 times the speed of light, with a travel speed of about 250 million miles per second. Assuming the curve jumps sharply toward the end, 9.5 is probably somewhere around 2 billion miles per second.
Take two objects, moving at exact opposite trajectories, moving at the same speeds. Closing speed is therefore about 4 billion miles per second. Add the famous equation: E=MC(sqr).
The speed of light is 187,000 miles per second. The mass of a photon torpedo is probably somewhere around the weight of a heavy coffin, considering its size, what it's actually used for, once, and the probable weight of the materials inside. So call it about 400 kilograms.
The energy released by a single photon torpedo striking an object at 4 billion miles per second is roughly E=400,000*(187,000(sqr))
This roughly works out to 1.39876x10(16th) Joules of energy released on impact.
I'd argue that no matter how good a species' deflector shields have become, there's a reason you don't see starships fighting at warp speed. If you could engineer a fight at those velocities, the first person to hit the other guy wins.
---
Those who fear the darkness have never seen what the light can do.
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#18
Quote:Logan Darklighter wrote:
But KDF cruisers, even though they are generally more nimble in a turn than Fed Cruisers, are still a touch slow compared to a BOP ... So I have a "Scorpions Tail" in the form of a set of a Breen Transphasic Cluster Torpedo. 
You probably already know this, but the Aux to Dampeners power gives a 15 second turn rate buff, among other things, on a 30 second cooldown. So you can comfortably carry two copies of this on a Battlecruiser with ample Engineering bridge officer slots. 
On that token, it's likely the pure Federation version of this would be a Tricolbalt device - specifically, a Tricolbalt mine. I believe using a mine deployment tactical power with Tricolbalts is the highest single bit of burst damage you can do in STO, if all connect on an unshielded facing.
-- Acyl
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#19
Between the quality of their own technology, and the outdated systems the Frozen Summer used, it was a simple matter for the Hirogen to listen in on the conversation between the freighter and the Jeff Wayne. Standing on his command podium, barely resisting the urge to take out his fury on anything or anyone within reach, or at least to pace, Kran considered the green skinned woman on his viewscreen.

As usual, it was his younger brother Irath that spoke up first, taking advantage of his blood relation to avoid the violent response that even the Packs Beta would have invited like this. "Just how did an Orion manage to get a Starfleet vessel?" he wondered. "I thought the Klingons had the greenskins well and truly absorbed into their empire." There was a hint of distaste in his voice at the concept. A hunter didn't invite their prey to join in the hunt, after all. It went against the natural order of things.

"The Federation is a curious thing," Kran replied. "They claim that species is not an issue they worry about," He snorted, shaking his head. "Prey species. Insane. Still, it would explain a few things in this case. I suspect that she, or her predecessors, may have fled to the Federation when the Klingons put her race in their place."

"An accurate theory my Alpha." Kran turned to see his Beta entering the bridge, datapad in hand. The mans body language was tense, cautious, and he maintained a safe distance from Kran. Despite his anger, the Alpha almost smiled in respect. While the day would come when Hakket would challenge him, and one of them would die, it was not going to be today. The Betas survival instincts were too good for that.

"I suspect you've found information on this Captain Hanagawa?" he asked, turning away from the screen where said Captain, having confirmed the Hirogen had only done minor damage to the Frozen Summer, was telling them to make repairs as quickly as possible, then leave the area.

Hakket bared pointed teeth in what passed for a smile, "Our Tal Shiar 'friends' have a file on her," he replied. "It is somewhat limited in solid details, as it seems she's only recently come to their attention, but it remains interesting. For instance, it turns out she began as a healer, a Doctor."

Stiffening in surprise, Kran gave his Beta a look that was half disbelief, half accusation. For his part, Hakket met the look without hesitation. "That was my response at first as well," he said, "but it all fits together reasonably well. And if the Tal Shiar wanted to make fools of us, I'd like to think they'd try something a little more believable to bait us." Nodding, the Alpha conceded the point, letting the man continue. "As I said your theory of how she arrived in the Federation is somewhat accurate. Her parents fled Orion space after a power struggle nearly thirty years ago, settling on Earth. When she came of age, she was admitted to their Starfleet Academy to train as a Doctor." His mouth twisted in distaste at the concept, but he sounded as if he believed it. Prey species were strange sometimes.

"And here she is now, serving as a Captain," Kran mused, glancing back at the viewscreen as the call ended and the two bridges were replaced by the usual sight of the warp field. "Quite the change in status."

"A change that, if these records are accurate, she earned at Vega Colony," Hakket said grimly, taking a certain satisfaction as several crewmembers pretending not to listen in made the mental connection and visibly flinched,

Hissing slightly, Irath shook his head. "The Borg," he muttered, betraying the unease all Hunters felt in regards towards what they often quietly called the Devourer. "Of all the things that had to turn up in this Quadrant."

"It seems that Hanagawa was the highest ranking officer left alive after the Borg managed to board her ship," Hakket said, glancing at the datapad again. "She managed emergency repairs, helped to repel the ground invasion, and then was involved in taking down at least one Cube."

Kran looked thoughtful. "An impressive start to a more honourable path in life," he commented. "And if her boast to me was accurate, she's continued along that same path."

Moving close enough to hand Kran the datapad, Hakket shrugged slightly. "I can't confirm anything about the Undine, but the Romulans did have quite a bit on her encounters with the Klingons." The smile was even more aggressive this time. "The Klingons alternate between admiring her as a warrior and mocking her as a 'tiny little starfleet weakling', but I think they're actually scared of her."

Considering that, Kran smiled. "Then she is a worthy hunt," he said, "And a dangerous one." The thought of the coming challenge dulled his anger somewhat.

"As much as Starfleet could be," Irath commented, taking a long, curved knife from his belt and considering it.

"Even Starfleet is better prey then what we've been finding," his brother pointed out. "And anyone that can face the Borg is clearly better then the average Federation weakling." His tone was severe, a warning to Irath, but it was more for forms sake then anything else. Since arriving in the Beta Quadrant, he'd hunted and killed nearly half a dozen Starfleet captains, and he'd found them all lacking. Scientists and explorers, not warriors or hunters. And while this Orion had potential, she'd started as a doctor of all things.

She might pose some challenge, but the end would never really be in doubt. And afterwards, once she was dealt with, her skull would be mounted on his wall, as a warning to all who dared to doubt the honor of the Hirogen.
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#20
Quote:Logan Darklighter wrote:
If that's the way Honor Harrington fights, I really must read those books. 
I'd recommend you go to http://ebooks.thefifthimperium.com/. David Weber's series have been put to the Baen free library disks a few times, and you can download either an ISO image of one of these disks, or individual books/series. I highly recommend his Harrington books, as well as the Empire trilogy. In Fury Born is also a stellar piece of work, and involves a fusion between a retired super-soldier whose family is attacked by planet pirates, one of the actual ancient Furies, and a sentient starship whose inventor is murdered and who seeks justice for it. It's a really good bit of work.
Of course, if you decide you really like his work, you might consider supporting it by buying the books. I did, and I've re-read them multiple times.
---
Those who fear the darkness have never seen what the light can do.
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#21
At Baen's request, the fifthimperium site no longer allows direct download of individual ebooks - it only hosts ISOs and .ZIP - so you need to download and burn to CD/virtually mount, or just unzip if you opt for the regular archive version. This being the case, I'd recommend you grab the Mission of Honor collection. With that said, you can get the first Honor Harrington novel free directly from Baen anyway - On Basilisk Station. I agree that In Fury Born is an excellent one-shot stand alone, though, and may be less daunting than delving directly into the Honor series.
MatrixDragon's stuff does remind me a lot of Weber's space writing, but that's a good thing. That's a compliment. I'm really enjoying this.
-- Acyl
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#22
***

The shift to Red Alert was quick and smooth. Unsurprising, given the crew had been a single stage below that for almost an hour. Still, as she watched every section of the ship on the ops board quickly turn green in readiness, Priss felt a familiar sense of pride in her crew. Be it Klingon, Romulan, Hirogen or Borg, her crew never hesitated to give it their all.

Now it just remained to be seen if their efforts, and her plans, were enough to carry the day. "Time to target?" she asked.

"We drop from warp in thirty seconds," Smith confirmed, voice flat, the tension in his body language clear even through his encounter suit.

Tapping her commbadge, Priss made one other final check. "Chief, how're we looking?"

"Tommy's boys have the package all ready to go," Rossum replied cheerfully. "Just say when and we'll kick it over the edge."

Suppressing a chuckle at her engineers familiar attitude to any high risk situation, Priss glanced at her exec. "Well then, let's begin, shall we?" Thryiss nodded, her own smile slightly eager, as was often the case when the Andorian went up against threats with a bit of actual menace. While it was hardly on the level of something like a Klingons blood rage, one couldn't deny its existence, and there had been the occasional critic from the less military minded elements of Starfleet that saw it as a problem, should she ever become a starship captain.

Priss was not one of those critics, and in fact would be the first to admit that she often experienced a similar 'flaw' herself. Properly harnessed, it helped he put B'vat in the ground, it helped drive the Devidians back to their dimension, and it might just help her take down the Hirogen now.

Right on schedule, the Jeff Wayne dropped out of Warp, the ship sitting alone in the empty void of space. There was a long moment of silence as the approaching Hirogen realized that their opponent had been the first to drop back to relativistic speeds, and Priss idly wondered if they were even now revising their own planned target location.

After nearly a minute though, there were three flashes of light, directly in front of and a good distance away from the Jeff Wayne, and the target vessels appeared with the usual optical illusion of deceleration. They weren’t much to look at, being flat, boxy slabs of rust-colored monotanium alloy, the smaller frigate mounting its nacelles in long wings, the other two keeping them simply mounted on pylons. Yet, as they powered up their impulse engines and began to approach, there was indeed something menacing about them. Aggressive, relentless. Still, she’d taken on worse. “Engage as instructed,” Priss ordered.

Impulse engines powering up, the Jeff Wayne charged directly at the Hirogen, actually causing some surprise. They’d faced Starfleet before, and they’d found that in those hunts, their prey had tried to maintain their distance, firing heavy broadsides from long range and using unconventional techniques like tachyon beams and artificial gravity wells to hamper the enemy. Despite their experience in battle, the Hirogen were used to thinking of starships as simple, standard designs, conforming to a template their hidden automated shipyards produced as needed. For them, there was consistency to their Prey. Equipment and technology would be only a minor factor, it was the skill that presented the true challenge.

Krans pack had faced cruisers that, while refitted with modern Starfleet technology, were hulls suffering from the wear and tear of almost a century of service. He had based all his expectations of his current opponent off those unfortunate souls. But today, he was facing a modern, state of the art escort, built with combat as its primary duty. And tactical doctrine for escorts was very different from cruisers and science vessels.

A standard phaser array fired first, the orange beam washing over the shields of one of the Hunter Escorts, catching the Hirogen off guard again. They'd been expecting the frigate to be targeted first. It made sense, both from the Hirogen perspective of the Hunt, and the simple logic of eliminating the weakest target. Their confusion didn't stop the Hirogen from opening up with their own beam arrays, the bright blue of tetryon particle streams doing their best to disrupt and collapse the Jeff Waynes shields.

Then the Jeff Wayne gave the Hirogen a demonstration in just what met Starfleets definition of an escort. Twin forward mounted phaser cannons opened fire, throwing out several packets of nadion particles every second, and the Hirogen ship didn’t have time to evade before taking the salvo directly on its bow shields. Those shields flared and warped under the barrage, which only got worse as the Jeff Wayne closed in, before they gave way completely, exposing the hull to the beating those cannons and beam array were unleashing, ripping large chunks out of the monotanium armor.

That beating got worse as the Federation escort, its own shields weakened by the Hirogen fire but still holding, launched a pair of high-yield photon torpedoes at the exposed ship. Both shots were on-target, slamming into and detonating right against their targets hull.

Eyes widening, Priss watched as the Hunter Escorts entire forward section vanished in a matter/anti-matter collision. She’d passed up the easy target of the frigate in order to catch the Hirogen off-guard and force them to break formation, but even pushing her weapons output to their limits like she just had, she’d never expected to manage a mission kill so quickly... Then, even as the light from the first explosion faded, secondary explosions began consuming the remaining three-fifths of the ship, and she was suddenly reminded of her Academy Tactics Instructors warnings about victory hiding the potential for defeat. “Evasive!” she ordered.

Cursing loudly and creatively, Smith threw the ship onto a drastically different heading, pushing the impulse engines to a hundred and forty percent and even using the emergency maneuvering thrusters to help alter their heading. Despite this, he kept one eye on the two intact Hirogen ships, confirming that they were doing much the same thing, the need to put some distance between them and their dying packmate achieving Captain Hanagawa’s goal of breaking their formation. Unfortunately, they were moving away from the coming explosion, while the Jeff Wayne was still getting worryingly close-

What was left of the Hunter Escort was vaporised as its warp core failed explosively, the shock wave racing outwards to slam against the other ships in the fight. The Hirogen ships were knocked around, but they were far enough away their shields managed to handle the impact with minimal disruption. The Jeff Wayne wasn’t quite so lucky, the shock wave tearing at the port shields, almost knocking them down completely, and throwing around any crew unprepared for the impact.

As the deck stopped shaking, Priss released her deathgrip on her chair arms and leaned forward. “Well, that mostly worked,” she commented with a wry smile. “Status?”

“Forward shields at thirty percent, port shields at ten percent, both recharging,” Thryiss reported. “Some minor injuries reported.”

Nodding, Priss studied the tactical plot. The Seeker Frigate seemed to taking its time to come back around, its captain clearly displaying some caution after what happened to its larger companion. The remaining Hunter Escort was coming about much faster, it’s captain clearly recognizing that the Jeff Wayne just took a serious blow despite its initial success, and the Orion woman winced very slightly. It’d take time to get the shields and forward weapons ready for another sweeping pass, which meant... “Helm, adjust heading sixty-five by twenty. Give that escort a few broadsides.”

“Aye Captain,” Smith replied, entering commands, and Priss checked a display panel on her arm. In all the excitement, Rossums team assigned to the hanger hadn’t had time to deploy their surprise. Still, there should be another opportunity-

“Torpedo launch,” Siesye said suddenly, leaning in closer to his console. “Two torpedoes from Target Beta, eighteen seconds to impact.” The ship shuddered slightly as the Escort fired its Tetyron Beam arrays again, one beam going wide but the other doing its best to burn away the starboard shields. Priss spared a moment to glance at where Lieutenant Moral was trying to trick the torpedoes into going off-target, then sat back and waited. No need for orders yet.

***

Gripping the railing of his command podium hard enough stress marks began to appear in the metal, Kran glared at the image of the Jeff Wayne. In the space of only a few minutes, that ship had defied all his expectations of this Hunt. The Crippling Blade, a ship with a Hunting legend that reached back generations, destroyed so quickly, so completely...

Even if the Federation ship had been caught by the edge of his packmates destruction, it had done more damage than anything else his pack had experienced since arriving in this Quadrant. More than that, the speed with which it had achieved it had taken his earlier confidence and destroyed it in front of his Beta, and even worse, in front of his crew. After an injury like this, Hakket would pounce on the sign of weakness sooner rather than later, and the crew might just follow him. For him, this was no longer just about a worthy Hunt and a fine trophy. If he wanted to maintain his status as Alpha, and his life, he had to kill the Jeff Wayne, and do it properly.

Impacts from the Jeff Waynes phaser arrays rocked the ship slightly, but the shields were easily holding them back for now. Kran ignored them, his attention on the transphasic torpedoes closing in on their target. One of them drastically changed course suddenly, chasing a target only it could see, and the Hirogen snarled in frustration. However, the other torpedo ignored Starfleets attempts to distract it and kept going, passing through the ships shields with only a minor delay, then slammed into the ship itself, exploding against the starboard saucer section with sheer kinetic force and tearing away armor plating.

For a moment, Kran bared his teeth in satisfaction, but then he scowled again, as he saw a reminder of the difference between hunting a civilian ship and a military one. Despite a nasty scar and a brief trail of debris and gases, the Jeff Wayne was hardly damaged. “Signal the Silent Watcher,” he ordered his comm officer. “Have them come about and engage with torpedo salvos on the forward sections. Irath,” he continued, his brother turning towards him. “I want a heavy tetryon salvo at their nacelles, followed by the subnucleonic emitter.” The younger Hirogen smirked as he grasped his brothers intentions. “Hamstring them.”

Behind Kran, Hakket turned to consider his Alpha for a moment. The plan had potential, wearing down the shields and crippling the Prey’s ability to maneuver. It was one of the oldest Hirogen tactics, simply because it was so effective. But resorting to it so quickly, with barely any testing the Prey... This Hanagawa was better than they had expected of a Starfleet officer. Or perhaps Kran was showing his age. Perhaps it was simply overconfidence and carelessness that had him let the Jeff Wayne make its charge, throwing its admittedly impressive firepower into the teeth of the Crippling Blade...

He considered that possibility, even as he studied Krans back armor, and the poisoned blade he had hidden in his own armors wrist bracer. Perhaps his time as Alpha was closer than he’d expected.

***

The starboard shield strength continued to drop as tetryon beams washed over them, and Priss ordered another course change to keep both ships on the same side of the ship, even as the Seeker Frigate tried to dart over them and get at the still-weaker port shields. Then the Hunter Escort fired another weapon, a thinner, barely visible beam that managed to penetrate the shields and run along the starboard nacelle. It did no physical damage to the ship, but it still made its presence known as the nacelles power levels dropped, and the Impulse Engines began to weaken as well.

“Okay, what was that?” Priss asked as they began to slow and the Hirogen closed in.

“Subnucleonic beam array,” Siysye reported. “We’re losing power to the engines.”

“Maximum speed is three quarters Impulse and dropping,” Smith added, throwing in an evasive maneuver that sent the Hunter Escorts latest beam salvo passing under them. “I’m not going to be able to keep our distance for long Skipper,” he added as he sent a phaser salvo back in reply, this one hitting on target.

“Noted,” Priss said, tapping her comm badge. “Chief?”

“In answer to the question you’re about to ask, I’m already on it. About a minute to restore full impulse,” Chief Rossum replied.

Scowling, Priss looked at the tactical plot, then the status display on her chair arm, and nodded. “Mister Smith, execute Delta-Nine, target the frigate!”

Pulling into a tight turn, the Jeff Wayne caught the frigate by surprise, as its attempts to maneuver around brought it directly into their opponents forward firing arc. Both the forward phaser and the cannons opened fire, albeit at a slower rate than the barrage that had torn the Crippling Blade apart. It was enough to almost completely collapse the frigates shields, and the ship lost its nerve and pulled up and away, managing to shake off the torpedoes that had been following in behind the phaser salvo. In return, they launched two Tetryon torpedoes that tore chunks of bow armor apart, but didn’t penetrate deep enough to do serious damage. Swinging around, the Jeff Wayne stuck on the frigates tail for a short while, pounding at its aft shields for as long as they dared. The frigates aft shields dropped before theirs, and the Starfleet ship sent a pair of torpedoes towards its impulse engines before breaking off.

Banking hard to port, the frigate deployed countermeasures, but failed to lure the torpedoes off course before they detonated, destroying one of the ships nacelle wings. The ship spun, briefly out of control, but the Jeff Wayne couldn’t take advantage of the situation as the Hirogen flagship closed in, beam arrays chewing at her shields. In the middle of this excitement however, both enemy ships failed to notice the Federation ships hanger bay opening and an engineering team kicking something small and heavily stealthed out to drift in the debris.

***
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#23
***

“Increase power to the tetryon arrays!” Kran ordered as he watched the Jeff Wayne try to put some distance between itself and the Hirogen. “Concentrate fire on their engines, close the distance, and contact the Silent Watcher! Have them maintain long-range torpedo salvos on the Prey’s port side, force them towards us!”

Pain began to run through his fingers as his grip on the railing intensified, but the Alpha barely noticed. His attention was on the viewscreen and that impossible ship. Its armor was burned, cracked and dented. It’s shields were weakening and distorting. But despite that, it remained unbroken, defiant.

As he watched, the Starfleet ship rolled hard to port, presenting its stern to the Hirogen and promptly launched a trio of photon torpedoes. As they closed in, their weapons officer cleared the way with a phaser salvo that tore into the Hirogens forward shields, earning a curse from Krans’ helmsman and a quick course change that saw the torpedoes detonating against their port shields instead. That course change allowed the Jeff Wayne to widen the gap between the two ships, and caused the latest Tetryon beams to race off into empty space above the Federation ships nacelles.

Snarling, Kran leaned over the railing towards the helmsman. “I said, close the distance!” he roared, making the smaller man jump slightly before he altered their heading to pursue again. Grinding his teeth together, he straightened up and looked over his bridge. The rage clawing at his mind began to fade, rational thought beginning to return, but only because another emotion took hold.

Fear.

That ship was a part of it, true, but now the the true fear, the true threat, came from inside his ship. It was the oldest truth of the Packs, one that was said to predate even the beginning of the Eternal Hunt. The Alpha was the strongest, and the Pack answered to him, but that was true only as long as he had the strength to enforce his will. When that strength failed, they were his Pack no longer.

He didn’t show any outward reaction, but he suddenly found himself all too aware of where Hakket was, and the poisoned blade the other man thought he didn’t know about. One ship destroyed, another crippled, possibly beyond repair. If his Beta struck now, while the shock and anger still ran through the Pack, they would follow him, he was sure of that. Simply destroying the Jeff Wayne wouldn’t be enough, not any more. He had to make this kill glorious. A tale of a great Hunter against incredible Prey.

Anger faded, fear was brought under control, and the man looked at the viewscreen with renewed confidence. Yes. This would be one of his greatest tales, the sort he would teach his children of.

As he began to plot, the ships intercom buzzed for attention, and the voice of the Transporter Master made itself heard. "Alpha, I report success. The Preys shields can now be breached. Our Hunters stand ready!"

A smile began to form on the Alphas face, all sharp points and eager malice. “Well done indeed. Hakket!” He turned towards his Beta, who met his gaze with an expression somewhere between curious and eager. No doubt he was expecting Kran to leave him in command of the ship while he lead the boarding parties on a much more intimate Hunt. “Lead the breach,” he ordered instead, and he allowed himself a moment of satisfaction at the surprise on the other mans face.

“You will not be joining us?” the Beta asked, suspicion beginning to replace the surprise, and Kran met it with a laugh, one that was actually genuine.

“Look at what this Prey has achieved old friend,” he replied. “Her skill with that ship, her firepower, her armor and speed. When was the last time we were truly challenged in space? When was a Prey’s ship more than just a collection of halls and rooms to hunt in?” As if to reinforce his comment, a phaser beam from the Jeff Wayne burned its way through their shields, maintaining the strength to carve a rather long, if mostly cosmetic, scar right next to the starboard nacelle. “Raken, we need improved results from our countermeasures. I want their weapons off-target,” he called out.

“By your command Alpha!” came the reply, and the Hirogen took some satisfaction in the confidence and loyalty in the mans voice.

Turning back to assess the tactical display, he smiled again. “This is my Hunt today Hakket. I will face this Starfleet officer in her own domain. She will learn that we are the true predators in all fields.” He didn’t visibly react to the suspicion still in his Betas eyes, instead raising a hand and gesturing towards his brother. “Take Irath with you.”

“Eh?” the younger Hirogen commented, looking up from his tactical display.

“You were complaining the other day about being stuck watching things here the past few Hunts,” Kran pointed out. “Go spill some blood. Try and find a worthy skull.”

“If her crew fight half as well as she does, there might be something acceptable for my trophy collection,” Irath mused as he stood up, collecting his rifle from the rack by his station. Kran was actually paying very little attention to him, instead studying Hakket. The man's expression had shifted slightly, suspicion fading somewhat. He was smart enough to recognize that the Alpha had sent his brother as a hostage, rather than brotherly concern for his siblings trophies. But he also knew that Krans family loyalty made it a truly effective hostage deal. If he led the boarding action, he wouldn’t need to fear being directly targeted.

Eventually, the Beta smiled and bowed. “May your victory be glorious. I’ll try not to take the Orion from you.”

“Let your blades strike true,” the Alpha replied. He spared a moment to watch the pair leave the bridge, then turned his attention back to the space battle. That was one problem under control. Depending on how the Hunt progressed, perhaps he wouldn’t need to spend his brothers life to remove that particular threat. In fact… “Hail the Silent Blade. I have a job for them."

***

The icon on the viewscreens tactical display shifted, going from the solid red arrow of a hostile under target lock to a wider circle, indicating an estimated area where the target was known to be. Priss frowned, considering it. “Well, someone’s taking their countermeasures more seriously,” she grumbled. “Tactical, hold off on torpedo fire, phasers on dispersion pattern Delta-Two.”

The background hum shifted slightly as Chief Rossum managed to work her magic, restoring full power to the engines. At the helm, Smith made a satisfied noise, then leaned forward, waiting. Another Tetyron salvo from the Hirogen flagship burned at their shields, carving away a little more protection. Then the Tocraxians left hand came down on a trio of buttons, throwing the ship hard to starboard and up, bringing them around in a tight turn towards the Hirogen flagship. The maneuver was carefully timed, right as a torpedo salvo was beginning its final approach, and when combined with some skillful countermeasures from Lieutenant Moral, it ruined their target lock and sent them off on a vector that took them out of the fight entirely.

The Jeff Wayne didn’t stay on its new course for long, firing a wide area burst from its forward mounted weapons, saturating the area they knew their target was in, searching for the flare of the Hirogen shields. Then it broke off again, presenting its port side to the enemy before the still recharging forward shields could suffer.

“Still can’t regain solid lock,” Siysye reported. Priss leaned forward in her chair, studying the display. The remaining Hunter Escort was closing the distance between them, but the predicted heading suggested it was going to try and keep some distance between them. The frigate, despite its damage, still had some impulse capability, and it seemed that the remaining crew had managed to regain control and were trying to avoid drawing the Jeff Waynes attention, crawling away from the fight.

“Down to us and Kran,” she murmured. “Mister Smith, thirty degrees to starboard. Make it look like you’re trying to open the gap.” The ship turned again, and the Captain watched as the Hirogen moved to follow. Even better, its path was taking it towards the device they’d launched from the hangar bay, currently doing its best impression of a hole in space. With a little time…

Another salvo of weapons fire erupted from the Hirogen ship, but this one was simply Tetryon beams, spread out wide and incredibly weak as a result. No torpedoes followed, and Priss allowed herself a faint smile. It seemed that Krans people were having just as much trouble keeping a target lock as hers were. “Helm, prepare to change heading.”

Both ships twisted and turned, presenting a section of their shields to the enemy for as short a time as possible before rolling again. For the moment, neither ship seemed to be trying to press the advantage. As much as possible, both ships limited themselves to energy weapon broadsides, trying to use them to regain solid target locks on their opponents.

Studying the readouts on the main screen, Commander Aniri frowned. “He’s moving too cautiously,” she muttered quietly. “Hirogen tactics are usually much more aggressive than this.”

“But that aggression has cost him,” Priss pointed out, keeping her voice just as low. “He knows we’re not just helpless prey now. He won’t run, he can’t. Hirogen. But he’s not going to just charge in when he knows his ship will get shot out from under him.” Glancing over at her XO, the Orion gave her a humorless smile. “A true hunter needs to be patient, after all.”

Antennae curling up slightly, Aniri made a grumbling noise. “Maybe. I got the impression earlier that if thing’s aren’t going his way, patience isn’t exactly one of his virtues. He’s not just waiting, he’s up to something.”

Glancing over at the Andorian for a moment, Priss considered that, then nodded in reluctant agreement, before looking back at the tactical display on the main viewscreen. “It’s not like he’s the only one,” she admitted with a faint smirk. “But best we spring our next trick before he can his. As soon as we have target lock again, we go with Pincer.” The Exec nodded and turned away, checking on the status of the deflector array and it’s tachyon projectors.

Priss leaned forward, watching the icon of Kran’s ship as it moved. It was still keeping its distance, trying to determine the Jeff Waynes exact location.Two ships, both trying to get the first shot off… Her eyes widened, and she looked at the other icon on the screen, this one easily trackable. The Seeker Frigate that had supposedly broken off from the fight, even as Priss had been commented that Hirogen didn’t run easily. Its exact location was almost as vague as the remaining Escort, but it looked like it was changing course, no longer moving directly away, but turning in a wide arc that would keep it at extreme weapons range… and place the Jeff Wayne between both Hirogen ships.

Considering the frigate, Priss sighed. “Rookie mistake. Well, that’s embarrassing,” she muttered under her breath. “Mister Smith, adjust heading seventy-five by sixty, full impulse, and prepare defense pattern Baker-Nine.” If the Hirogen ships were sharing targeting data, they were almost certain to fire first, and if the Jeff Wayne was caught in a crossfire when that happened, evasion would likely be unlikely at best. Which meant they needed to endure whatever was about to be thrown at them, through shields, armor and the many dirty tricks Starfleet had developed

As the Starfleet ship tried to maneuver around and over the Hirogen flagship, Priss took a deep breath, bracing herself for what she knew was coming.

***

“You know, I was expecting a lot more attention,” Irath said as the hunting party moved down the hallway. “Alarms, soldiers, active defences…”

“Yes, and if this Hunt was simple brute force, charging in like a blind Kazon, that would be their response,” Hakket replied, irritation slipping into his voice as he studied the map displayed on his tricorder. “Technology can be deceived…. for a time. We transported aboard unnoticed, perhaps, but they will learn of our presence soon.” He turned back to the younger Hirogen and smiled unpleasantly. “Then, you may just get what you wish for.”

Irath managed to meet the Betas eyes for several seconds, before his nerve broke and he looked away. Satisfied, Hakket turned back to his tricorder, considering the map one last time, then he raised a hand and pointed towards one of the doors further down the hallway. “There. Breach and eliminate.” Silently, several of his men took up position on opposite sides of the door, weapons ready. They paused for a moment, then one of them hit the door controls.

Inside, three engineering officers were working at consoles built into a long, curved cylinder that continued on through the far wall, and a single Vulcan security officer was standing at the far end of the room, phaser rifle at the ready. The Vulcans reactions were impressive, the man yelling a warning to his crewmates, raising his rifle even as the first two Hirogen stormed the room. The pairs shields flared and failed under the high powered bolts, but their armor held long enough for one of them to cut down the Vulcan with a slashing blue tetryon beam. One of the engineers was fast enough to get his sidearm out and fire, but his shot went high, leaving him open to the Hirogens return fire.

The other two engineers scrambled for cover, even as intruder alarms began wailing, triggered by the weapons fire, but the majority of the hunting party were in the room now, and in seconds they were both gunned down. “Now we see how the Prey responds,” one of the men commented, grinning fiercely. “This should be proper encouragement.”

Chuckling darkly, Hakket stepped over to an access panel on the cylinder, drawing his pistol and adjusting the power settings. “A few weaklings will hardly have that effect, even on those as soft as the Federation is said to be,” he mused, as he began firing a focused cutting beam into the lock. “That is why the Alpha sent us to this part of their ship in particular.” He smirked slightly at that, watching the lock give way. When the power of the Packs ships failed, he remembered that a Hunter also struck with skill and precision. Perhaps Kran still had the strength and cunning to remain Alpha after all.

Or perhaps not, he mused as the lock failed completely. After all, most Hirogen only thought in terms of overwhelming power, as indeed even he had, after the Jeff Waynes initial success. With the right words, the right actions… Putting his pistol away, he reached down and slid the armored hatch aside, revealing a rack of isolinear chips next to a transparent aluminium cover that showed several long cylinders of mercassium composites, lighting arcing between them like Tesla coils. Satisfied, the Beta unhooked a shaped explosive from his belt and attached it to the cover, setting the timer. “Move!” he ordered, closing the hatch and running towards the door. The rest of the party followed him, the last one out of the room slapping the door controls as he went.

They were twenty meters down the hallway when the bomb detonated, the entire blast aimed through the aluminium and into the shield generator itself, shattering the cylinders, tearing open the EPS conduits that connected to it, and leaving little behind but scrap metal… and the Jeff Waynes starboard shields ceased to exist.

***

(I was really hoping to get the combat done with this instalment, but it looks like the final stage of that is still to come. Hopefully a little quicker then this post.)
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#24
“Intruders detected on Deck Five, starboard side… Starboard shields are offline! Damage control reports explosions in Shield Generator Room Three!”

“Torpedo launch. Multiple torpedoes, from both targets…” Lieutenant Siysye leaned in closer to his display, then twitched back as it updated. “CIC makes it sixteen torpedoes total!”

Priss winced as the tactical display on the main viewscreen shifted. “Hard skew turn port and down, execute Baker-Nine!” she ordered, even as Tetryon beams clawed into the ship, on both the port and her now-unprotected starboard side. The sudden accuracy of those beams suggested that the Hirogen had never actually lost target lock, instead merely pretending to do so, luring their prey into position. Her hands tightened on her chairs armrests as she considered that Kran was indeed much sneakier than her first impressions had suggested. She bit back a quiet curse as she considered just what that unpleasant discovery was about to cost.

Ten torpedoes sped through space from Krans ship, while another six closed in from the other side. The larger salvo would reach them first, while the course change the Captain had ordered would have the other six hit a few seconds later. The Tetryon arrays worked to clear the way for them, bright blue beams clawing at the Jeff Waynes struggling shields. Even as the Federation ship rolled over onto its new heading, the torpedoes adjusted their own course almost instantly and continued to close.

Lieutenant Aunlez Moral leaned closer to her console, desperately searching across every subspace frequency she had the equipment and time to check. The torpedoes were tracking too well, without enough emissions of their own to suggest active tracking systems. They were tracking the Jeff Wayne by another method, and she was almost certain that the boarding party was the cause, possibly with some sort of tracking beacon. She couldn’t block all transmissions off the ship, not without blinding themselves in the process, but if she could find that beacon the missiles were hunting… Her main display updated, and her relief was mixed with a need to scowl at the details. She'd found a suspicious, cycling pattern on a frequency Starfleet didn't use. However, it seemed that the computers had noticed it almost five minutes ago, but rather than report it, it had helpfully recorded the pattern and resumed listening for anything 'suspicious'.

Muttering a quiet curse towards non-sentient cybernetic 'intelligences', Moral copied the pattern to a pair of ECM emitter drones and launched them on paths designed to arc out and away from the Jeff Wayne. The drone launched towards the larger torpedo swarm only managed to lure a single torpedo away from its intended target, but the other was much more successful, with half of the salvo losing sight of the Starfleet ship and racing away from the battle.

Right as the nine remaining torpedoes of the first salvo began their final attack run, the Jeff Waynes point defenses opened fire. Short range, high speed cannon turrets tracked and fired, phaser bolts intercepting the incoming attack, and three of the warheads vanished in flashes of radiation as they were ripped apart. But the other six continued on, burned their way through their targets struggling shields, and detonated against the port side roof of the primary hull.

There was no way the ship could simply shrug off that level of firepower, and the Jeff Wayne staggered, armor shattering as the blast tore into it. The explosions dug deep into the hull, tearing into corridors, power relays and ships systems, and a large portion of the port side phaser array was ripped apart as shrapnel and charged electro-plasma carved through it. Across the entire ship, the gravity systems briefly went haywire, sending anyone or anything not properly secured flying.

Most of the bridge crew were braced and secure, enduring at worst some minor bruising from their chair restraints. The exception was one of the security detail, who had failed to secure himself in time and was slammed into a bulkhead, head bouncing off it with a sickening crack before he slumped to the floor next to Lieutenant Morals station. The Trill turned her chair towards him, one hand reaching up to unlock her chair restraints, but froze as Commander Aniri pointed at her. “Stay locked in!” she barked, hand slapping back down to grip her chair arm again. The communications officer looked at her for a heartbeat, then remembered just why the Exec gave that order, and she braced herself again.

The second salvo, now down to three torpedoes, hit on the starboard side to the rear of the ship, one detonating against the starboard pylon, the other two against the nacelle. The blast tore its way through the nacelles armor, reaching the warp coils buried within and reducing them to burning shrapnel.

On the bridge, Thryiss grunted in pain as she was slammed against her chair restraints, then glanced at her readouts. “We just lost warp drive,” she reported, scowling, even as she looked over at where the security officer had fallen. “Medic to the bridge!” Two seconds later, the bridges holographic projectors activated and a slim, petite figure in medical division uniform appeared by the turbolift, not even hesitating before grabbing the emergency medical kit from the wall and sprinting towards the injured man.

Noting to herself, not for the first time, that the abilities of modern science were truly wonderful, Priss turned her attention away from the Emergency Medical Hologram and back to the battle. Neither Hirogen ship had managed to reload their torpedo tubes yet, but were keeping up a steady stream of fire from their Tetyton arrays. As she watched however, Chief Rossum’s people managed to divert more power to the remaining shield generators, and the shield strength indicators began to climb back up, shrugging off the beams.

“Port phaser array is offline,” Thryiss reported, and the Captain nodded in acknowledgement. Weapons down on one side, shields weak at best on the other. Not a good development at all. But the Hirogens torpedo salvo had provided some good news. Siysye had been able to use it to counter both enemy ships ECM, and the Jeff Wayne had a solid target lock again. She studied the viewscreen for a moment, taking in the tactical map, then nodded again. “Hanagawa to Rossum.”

“Go ahead skipper,” came the instant reply. There was still a lively tone to her voice, but it was much tighter than it had been earlier.

“I want the Hirogen thinking the damage to the nacelles is even worse than it is,” the Orion said. “Can we vent some plasma convincingly?”

“Honestly, we’re going to be doing that within a minute anyway,” the engineer admitted. “I’ll put on a show, and we can keep it from being too bad, but I’d advise against taking any more hits there if you can avoid it.”

“Duly noted. Thank you Chief.” Ending the call, she looked towards the helm. “Mister Smith, bring us about towards the Frigate. Engage with forward weapons,” she ordered. “Once we start venting plasma, I want you to put it between us and the Escort.”

Entering new commands into his console, the man chuckled dryly. “Aye Captain, showing them the aft.”

Priss suppressed an inappropriate giggle at that line, then glanced at her Exec. “And let’s get Valiant underway,” she added. “That should get Kran guessing.”

***

In the space of a few minutes, the mood had changed considerably on Kran’s bridge. The fear and unease had faded, replaced by an odd sense of what could only be called excitement. As the Jeff Wayne tried to maneuver and keep their starboard side out of the line of fire, the Alpha could hear a number of his crew growling in anticipation, and he allowed himself a faint smirk. He could work with this. “Helm, move us in closer. Tactical, I want focused fire on their engines. They appear to be going after the Silent Watcher, and I would prefer their death throes not catch any more of the Pack.”

“By your command Alpha!” the pair responded quickly, and the Alphas smirk widened. There was no hesitation, no doubt in their voices. Simply Hirogen obeying the commands of their Alpha, as they should. He turned his attention back to the Jeff Wayne in time to see something in its starboard nacelle give way, warp plasma venting into space in a rapidly expanding green cloud.

It was obvious that the pilot had known that was coming, as the Starfleet ships latest turn caused the plasma to spray out between them and the Hirogen flagship, and the electrical charge it carried was enough to disrupt their targeting (or the tetyron beams themselves, for that matter), buying the wounded ship time to try and engage the Silent Watcher. Naturally, Kran’s helmsman was already altering course, moving to dive under the plasma cloud, and the Alpha waited as patiently as he could for the ship to resume firing.

Before the maneuver was complete however, an alarm chirped for attention at the sensor officers station, and the man operating it twitched in surprise as his display updated. “Warp field detected. I can’t pinpoint its exact location, I think it’s cloaked.”

For a heartbeat, Kran looked at the man in confusion, and the timing registered in his mind. Hitting a button, he shifted the viewscreen to a tactical view, eyes quickly seeking out the new arrival. The icon of a weak warp signature and possible cloaked ship flickered on the screen, almost exactly where we was expecting it. In the same general direction that the Jeff Wayne had originally warped in from.

"Bring us around to the new target, and prepare a tachyon pulse!" he ordered, hands tightening against the railing again. "And tell the Silent Watcher to fall back." As his crew obeyed, he glared at the viewscreen. A second ship. Romulan perhaps, one of the many the Star Empire had been too weak to hold onto when the Republic had been founded in the Tau Dewa Sector earlier that year. It had been travelling with the Jeff Wayne, hiding under cloak before his own sensors detected them. It must have been waiting a short distance from the battlefield, then made a short range warp jump once the visible Prey had lured his Pack out of position. Unless he struck fast, he would be trapped in a crossfire… just as he had managed to achieve against the Jeff Wayne.

Despite his frustration, and the lingering unease over retaining his Alpha status, Kran felt a grudging respect for his Starfleet opponent. Regardless of her origins as a healer, this Hanagawa was truly a Hunter. But she and her fellow captain had made a mistake. By having the new ship warp in while cloaked, its shields were still down. If his Pack could locate and attack now, while it was vulnerable…

"It's decloaking," the sensor officer reported, and Kran shifted the viewscreen to watch space seem to ripple, revealing a small, compact ship in Starfleet white. Kran recognised it almost instantly. It was hard not to, the blocky, compressed design standing out against the Federations usual tastes in large saucers, secondary hulls and nacelles well away from the ship. A Defiant.

While the Hirogen had only been in the Alpha Quadrant a short time, and possessed a legendary contempt for any ships that weren't of their Ancestors design, they'd still heard stories of Ben Siskos most famous design. Built to fight the Borg, it was, in many ways, nothing more than remarkably powerful guns, engines and shields wrapped in the best armor available. If they gave it time, it had a very good chance of taking them. But right now, its shields were still down. "Emergency power to weapons, full broadside! Target their shield generators!" he roared.

Tetryon beams, brighter and more intense than the earlier salvos, began ripping through the void towards their new target. They went wide however, as the Defiant banked to the side, faster than Kran would have thought possible, before it rolled back up and returned fire with its forward weapons. Still turning to bring the smaller Escort, the Hirogen weren’t able to avoid the attack, and the shields flared under the barrage from the Defiants multiple phaser cannons.

Bracing himself against the feedback vibrations shuddering through the ship, Kran glanced towards the shield status display and frowned. Their shields were being weakened, but far more slowly than he had been expecting, given how his attacker was famed for its firepower. Something wasn’t right. He watched as the Defiant moved closer, cannons still blazing, and his unease grew. No beam arrays, no torpedo launches… what was its captain playing at?

Another salvo of Tetryton beams fired, and this time the Starfleet vessel chose to take the hit rather than break off its own attack. Shields flared as the beams washed over them, and Kran’s eyes lit up in triumph as the Preys shield generators were briefly disabled by his weapons feedback. “Torpedoes, full spread!” he ordered.

Completing its turn, the Hunter Escort launched a cluster of four transphasic torpedoes at the now-exposed ship, with a third salvo of Tetyron beams racing ahead to clear the way. Any attempt to restore the shields was ruined by those beams, and the torpedoes raced past and detonated against the hull without even slowing down. Watching as the Defiant vanished under the explosions, Kran scowled and leaned forward, glaring at the viewscreen as if it personally was hiding the truth from him. There was still something about this that just didn’t make sense. A vessel as maneuverable as the warship in front of him would be fast enough to at least try and take that blow on its shields, and given the damage a full torpedo spread would do, it was the only logical option. So why did they take the blow head on?

Despite his suspicions, as the Defiant raced out of the dispersing blast patterns and continued its charge, Krans brain still froze in confusion as he saw what his attack had revealed. The Defiants starboard nacelle was... gone. Not damaged, not destroyed, as there was literally no debris. Simply gone. As he stared at the screen in disbelief, the nacelle began to reappear. Not with the rippling effect that would suggest the ships cloaking device must have malfunctioned, but the flickering static of-

"A hologram?" he whispered. "It's a hologram. But how-" The question was cut off mid-sentence as he realized WHY there was a 'ghost ship' attacking. "Target the Jeff Wayne!" he roared, switching the viewscreen back to the tactical view and hunting for the real enemy.

Impulse engines at a hundred and twenty percent power, the Jeff Wayne was racing at flank speed, arcing over the plasma cloud it had thrown up as cover, and rolling to present all its remaining beam arrays to the Hirogen flagship. The first salvo was carefully focused, multiple beams striking at a single point against the shields, carving through them and striking the hull directly.

Despite the best efforts of the the Starfleet crew, the attack didn’t quite hit the target they’d identified, phasers hitting a few meters above the ideal target. Armor shattered and boiled away, but it did its job, deflecting it away from the main shield generators. Even with that however, power conduits were destroyed, safety cutoffs activated, and the generator was knocked into an emergency reset.

As the Hirogens shields began to fade away, the Jeff Wayne finished its roll and dived towards them, forward weapons blazing. What shields remained were quickly torn apart, and then the hull came under direct attack. Tetryon beams blazed as the Hirogen returned fire, but their broadside was hampered by the Starfleet vessel managing to redirect as much of their remaining shields forward as possible.

Staggering from the impact of a pair of torpedoes, Kran roared out a course change to try and get the Jeff Wayne into the firing arc of his torpedoes. Even as the ship turned however, they came under fire from the holographic ship again, catching them in a crossfire. Despite its artificial nature, the damage it inflicted was somehow all too real, and for a moment, the Alpha hesitated in deciding which target to focus on.

That moment cost him, as the Jeff Wayne raced past, launching another torpedo salvo that detonated against the hull, burning through the armor and wiping away his communications systems, backup power systems, the transporter bays… And worst of all right now, the secondary explosions clawed their way into the forward torpedo room. While none of the warheads inside were currently armed, it wiped out the rooms entire crew and ripped the automatic systems apart.

Watching the Jeff Wayne fly into his forward arc, already making a tight turn to bring itself around for another attack run, the Hirogen Alpha cursed. “Target the subnucleonic beam!” he ordered as the ship shuddered from the Defiants cannons. “Hamstring them!” One of his officers had clearly been expecting the order, as the beam was fired almost immediately, striking the targets port nacelle. But this time, there was no effect, the power readings remaining constant, and Krans face paled. They’d gotten a countermeasure running.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Defiant vanish from existence, revealing a small weapons platform, now drifting along, power cells dead, and he whispered a hateful curse towards photonic technology. And then the Jeff Wayne had come about and was moving towards them again. His display shifted as the shields generators came back online, Kran opened his mouth to order a course alteration, and then the Starfleet ship opened fire with all its forward weapons one last time.

Explosions rippled through the hull, lights went out as power conduits was destroyed, and the last thing Kran saw before it all went black was the railing of his command podium as he was thrown face first into it.

***

Slapping a hand against his thigh, Siysye failed to suppress a slightly bitter laugh. “I think that did it Captain!” he reported. “Weapons, shields and engines are offline, multiple hull breaches…” he paused and checked his display again. “And they just lost main power too. Looks like the warp core went into a crash shutdown.”

“Lucky bastards,” Thryiss muttered, considering the broken ship on the main viewscreen, atmosphere and debris leaking from wounds the vessel no longer had the power to block with emergency force fields, most notably the massive hole ripped across almost every deck along the ships bow. “If they hadn’t managed to get their shields back up at the last second, they’d be vapor now.”

Her captain didn't reply right away, her attention directed towards their own damage reports, while the ship continued to loop back around the plasma cloud. "Status on the Frigate?" she asked at last.

"It's outside weapons range, and moving directly away," reported the Rigellian. "No wide turning circles this time ma'am."

“Yeah, that won't last," she muttered. "Time to end this. Miss Moral, hail them."

Working at her station for a moment, Aunlez paused, then looked over her shoulder. "No reply Captain."

"They could have comm damage," pointed out the Exec, although her own tone was skeptical.

"They worked well enough to coordinate a crossfire," Priss growled, pushing herself up and out of her chair. "Getting really sick of this nonsense... Miss Moral, put a laser right on their comm dish. Even if they won't answer, I want them to hear this." She waited a moment for her comm officer to follow her orders, until the Trill turned towards her and nodded. “This is Captain Hanagawa of the USS Jeff Wayne to Hirogen Frigate. Your squadmates are dead or crippled, and your own damage is extensive,” she said in a voice like ice. “I have the firepower to destroy you in a single pass. If you do not power down your combat systems and eject your warp core, I will assume you intend to continue this conflict, and I will destroy your ship. You have thirty seconds to comply. Jeff Wayne out.”

She made a slashing gesture to Aunlez, ending the broadcast, then turned towards Thryiss. Despite the circumstances, the blue-skinned woman couldn’t resist an amused smirk. “Sticking with the Klingon techniques, I see,” she mused.

“It’s about the only thing that gets through to these idiots,” she replied with an irritated shrug and an eyeroll. “If it even works this time,” she corrected herself, before glancing over at where the EMH was taking a hypo from her kit "How is he?" she asked, looking down at the unconscious security officer.

“Minor skull fracture, concussion…” she reported, injecting the hypo into the mans neck. “He should be fine Captain, but I’d like to get him down to sickbay as soon as possible,” she added, studying the readouts on her tricorder

“Arrange a site-to-site with Transporter control,” Priss replied. “I don’t want medical teams wandering the ship until that damn boarding party’s been dealt with. And speaking of which,” she added, looking over at her Exec. “Please tell me our unwanted guests are being dealt with?”

***

Flipping her tricorder open, Lieutenant Commander Lenita Shinko studied its readout for a moment, then nodded in satisfaction. “They’re not trying to take on T’Ruta’s squad and are rerouting,” she said.

“In fairness boss, I’ve seen what she considers a properly defensible position,” muttered the Andorian thaan on the other side of the corridor intersection. “If I could find a way around that many turrets, I know I’d take it. Course,” he added with a faint shrug of his antennae, “I’m not an arrogant klahz that gets its jollies hunting sentient beings like animals, so I might be giving their intelligence too much credit.”

Shinko failed to entirely suppress a snort of amusement, and Kizid took some minor satisfaction at that. It was always nice to see that the woman did have something close to a sense of humor under her usually grumpy exterior. Then her eyes narrowed as she watched the Tricorder. “They’re coming.”

Kizid took a breath, then glanced down at the stealth field generator strapped to his arm, reassuring himself it was online. The status light glowed a steady blue, and he turned to check on the men and women behind him. He still had some doubts about the plan, but the Commander seemed confident, and she was the one that’d dealt with Hirogen before, after all. He glanced at the tricorder, watching as the ships security systems tracked the boarding party.

The majority of those systems were being found and jammed by the Hirogen as they moved, creating a grey spot in the Jeff Waynes surveillance. In fact, the ease with which they were being found was more than a little disturbing, and the Sergeants antennae curled up in unease as he realized the Commander was right. Somehow, the Hirogen knew where to look. They had far more details on the interior of a Thunderchild class then a group of pirates should ever have.

But that fact was working against them now. Working on that theory, the ships security chief had sent most of her people to cut off the majority of the quicker paths to critical systems, suspecting that the boarding party would have the knowledge to try and detour around them. It was the logical response, after all, but if the Hirogen had enough information, they should be able to find their way around… and that should lead them right here.

As the tricorder indicated the security systems directly underneath the security team had shut down, Kizid adjusted the grip on his minigun and moved back from the corner slightly. He heard the faint hiss as the emergency maintenance hatch in the floor was forced open, and his antennae twitched as he felt someone climb up through it.

Several seconds passed, and the Starfleet personnel waited in tense silence as they heard the buzz of a tricorder scan. It stopped, and then they heard a masculine voice speak. “Scan’s clear.” More Hirogen began to climb up through the hatch, and he glanced over at Shinko. The humans attention was on her tricorder, and the tiny optical cable plugged into it that was barely peeking around the corner. Her eyes narrowed, counting the number of enemies and comparing it to the reports from the other security parties. As footsteps began to approach the corner, she nodded sharply and pressed a button.

Explosive charges hidden in the hallway detonated, washing over the Hirogen in the middle of it. At both ends of the corridor, force fields powered up, catching and containing the blast, leaving the boarding party helpless. The explosions lasted for about five seconds, blasting down through the hatch into the deck below, before fading away.

Stepping out of cover, Kizid levelled his minigun down the hallway as the forcefield at this end powered down. Shinko did the same on her side of the corridor, and the other squadmates took up position with phaser rifles. Ventilation systems kicked in, quickly sweeping the smoke away, and his eyes narrowed in faint satisfaction. All of the Hirogen were on the ground, although it seemed their armor had saved their lives. Some were out cold, others seriously injured and unable to act. Three of them, while injured, were trying to get to their feet, and Kizid took aim at the nearest one.

“I know your armors limits,” the Lieutenant Commander growled, grabbing their attention instantly. “Our weapons are set to burn right through that. Hands behind your heads. Now!”

All three men looked up at her, clearly considering her claim. After a heartbeat, one of the trio, the youngest of them, barely out of his teens, snarled mockingly at her and pulled out his sidearm. The other two, clearly possessing enough experience and common sense to realise the woman wasn’t even remotely bluffing, proceeded to hug the deckplates as hard as they could.

Both miniguns roared, phaser bolts strong enough to melt steel ripping down the corridor. Irath took the salvo square on his chest before his pistol was even halfway up. His armor lasted almost a second under the abuse before the phasers burned their way through. Screaming, the man was thrown backwards, landing on his back and blacking out, smoke curling up from his chest.

Scowling, Shinko motioned for the riflemen to move up and secure the prisoners, and tapped her commbadge. “Shinko to Jillin. Status report?”

“Two intruders down here,” came the instant response. “One fell through the hatch, knocked out from the fall. The other was still down here, but we stunned him before you even finished with the explosions up there. Secure.”

“Good. Well done. Shinko to Hanagawa. Captain, intruders have been neutralised. Some of them will need medical attention.”

***

“Understood Commander,” Priss replied, looking at the viewscreen, where the surviving Frigate and its warp core were now drifting away from each other. “I want a sweep for any other intruders, just to be sure. I’m also going to need boarding parties for at least one ship, possibly two,” she added as the display shifted to show the ruins of the Seeker Escort.

“Copy that Captain. I’ll see to it.” The channel closed, and Priss sighed, the adrenaline of the battle starting to fade. Running a hand through her hair, she went back over to her chair and sat down.

“Mister Smith, see if you can find a position to keep both ships in weapons range, just in case,” she ordered. “Miss Moral, see if you can contact the Frozen Summer, I want an update on their status.” Pausing for a moment, she considered the situation, then looked towards her XO. “We’ll stay at Red Alert until Shinko finishes her sweep, and we can confirm the Escort isn’t going to try something stupid.”

Thryiss nodded, even as the injured security officer was transported to Sickbay in a shower of light. “I’m not sure they’ve got the ability left to try anything,” she admitted.

Snorting, the small woman gave her an unamused look. “Since when does that stop an idiot from trying something?” she asked.

***
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#25
Very nice. Thunderchild class BTW is this ship here? 
[Image: armitage01.jpg]
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