“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.
***
“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.
***