The case to the Orb opens and a blinding flash envelops the room...
2428 - Alternate Timeline J52-S4
He felt the skull shatter beneath the butt of his antiproton rifle and yet it still kept coming. It was relentless. With teeth gritting as the man, more machine than flesh, wrapped its claw around his forearm and squeezed a single thought when through his head. He had two duties; the first, to see that his crew safely home and in the event that wasnt possible spare them as much suffering as he could, the second was to take as many of these *******s with him as possible.
And by the Prophets he was going to.
Reaching behind the abomination he felt the circuitry at its neck and he dug his fingers into cold flesh. There was a moment when it stopped crushing his arm, tensing instead and seeming quiet alarmed, but then it redoubled its efforts. He redoubled his efforts, too. Amidst long dead muscle and optical neural fiber he felt his target. It was a disc about two inches in diameter at the base of the skull and situated directly on the spinal column. His fingers closed around it and he ripped it free. The machine half came to a screeching halt and without it the flesh portion quickly ceased to live.
With a grunt of pain he pried his arm free and surveyed the bridge. He grasped the arm of his chair and noting the console embedded in it was offline used it to pull himself up into a half standing position. He coughed and waved his hand to clear the acrid smoke from the air in front of his face. The smoke mixed with flashing red amidst the darkness gave his vision a surreal quality and illuminated his ashen and soot colored face with a ghastly glow. Even though his nose ridges were faint he could feel the grime in them and it irritated him.
REPORT! He barked over the sound of torpedo explosions outside the ship. When the deck lurched he was sure the inertial dampeners were offline, or at the very least barely operating.
Internal communications are intermittent at best! Reports of security still fighting Borg on deck four! Main power, long range sensors, and our targeting scanners are offline. Oshara Jen was barely sitting upright and half of her console was offline. At the moment she found that more worrisome than how hard it was to draw in a breath. Her field medic training told her that she had a collapsing lung, probably from a rib fracture. But it didnt matter, not yet, if the ship was destroyed she was dead anyway.
Phaser banks are offline. Starboard cannon is operational at fifty percent efficiency. Aft quantum torpedo bay is .. gone, Sir. We have shields back up but only at twenty percent. She finished her report.
Well, Ensign. Thats a pretty big target out there. We shouldnt have any trouble hitting it manually. Riley said as he pulled himself into his seat on the center of the bridge. Helm, evasive maneuvers, sequence lambda three. Best possible speed. Fire at will.
The small, battered Defiant-class starship banked, dipped, and rolled as it fought to avoid the tactical cubes plasma weapons. Each time the Borg attempted to lock the tiny ship into its tractor beam it found only empty space. It was like trying to swat a fly with a toothpick. A spread of quantum torpedos lashed out from the scorched ship and exploded along the cubes hull, but the series of explosions seemed to do only minor damage against its ablative shielding; the half operational cannon was no more effective than a child throwing a jumja stick at a Pahwraith.
Static half blurred out the image on the main viewscreen. The escort dipped under a Vorcha-class attack cruiser that had lost helm control, narrowly missing it, and the angle shifted on his command to show one of the Klingons last few cruisers exploding against the cube. The small escort pitched to one side and its half-Bajoran captain slammed one of the few working controls on the right arm of his chair.
All remaining vessels! This is Captain Riley Shephard of the USS Emissary, concentrate all weapons fire onto the center of that explosion! He shouted into the comm.
The four remaining Federation ships, aided by a Klingon Raptor and one heavily damaged Galor-class warship, let loose one last valiant barrage of weapons fire onto the tactical cube. It seemed for a moment that it would resist, that the relentless, destructive force of the Borg would prevail but at the last minute their hull began to buckle and it erupted in a green shockwave that rattled the deck beneath Rileys feet.
What was left of his bridge crew let loose a resounding whoop of victory and Captain Shephard sank into his chair. He put his head into his hand. He didnt know which was throbbing worse it or his arm.
Thank the Prophets. He muttered, and even lower. That was for you, dad.
Captain. Ensign Oshara said, interrupting the celebration. Incoming transmission from DS9 to all vessels. Its Admiral Valdane.
On screen. Riley said, forcing himself to raise his head even though the bridge was spinning out of control. With a great deal of willpower he forced his vision to focus as the image on the screen shifted and a very weary, aging woman appeared on the screen. Operations had looked like it had seen better days. Hell, the entire Alpha quadrant had seen better days.
Good work, Captain. Kat said. Customarily such words would have brought a smile to her face but there was little to smile about anymore, not when almost all of your friends and colleagues had been killed or assimilated; which was worse? The actions of all of you have allowed the Romulan convoy to reach us and pass safely through the wormhole. Without your sacrifice it surely would have been lost, you saved a great many citizens of many worlds from the fate of assimilation. Return to Bajor as soon as you are able. Deep Space Nine out.
The screen flickered and reverted back to the Borg debris. Riley should have felt heartened by the message but he didnt. They all knew it was a matter of time. Earth, Vulcan, Trill, Betazed, Andoria; they were all gone. The Federation was reduced to just over fifty star systems. The Klingon Empire had buckled and QoNos was home to billions of Borg. The two Romulan factions had long since solidified and were on the same verge of extinction as the Federation; the Romulan lines, protecting Bajor, the new home of what remained of the Federation Council, crumbled more every day. Cardassia was overwhelmed with refugees and what would happen then when the Borg came there, too?
Captain, you should report to sickbay. Urged his first officer, a resilient young Betazoid man, perhaps the last of his kind. They were all young. Even he was still young, and yet compared to them he felt so very old.
Be sure to welcome our newest recruits, Rowan, O'Carrol, and Nagato, when you see them in game and on our forums! I'm off to work. I'll see you all Sunday.
hi all i believe i applied correctly by posting in transporter room three. servers are down right now. but im in game all the time. you guys sound like a great RP group too
We've got your application. I won't be back in game until tomorrow but you can contact @sgtinvincible or @JUSTSILVER to be added to the fleet in game. I look forward to seeing you there. :cool:
Hiya Thraxx! Great intro post on the forums, I look forward to getting to know you!
Everyone, some new informational posts on our forums, from Uniforms to fleet bank directions. Give it a read, and let us know what you think. Your info is extremely important to us! You have a voice in TFH, use it!
Evening folks! It's been a great saturday of spending time with family, and even babysitting my nephew for a bit. Now it's time to relax with STO a little while. Hope everyone's day has been as good!
Had some pretty nasty storms last night. Glad I still have power. Severe thunderstorm, tornado, and flood watches abound. We had lightning hit our station. lol
Are you looking for a quality Star Trek-based roleplay? Check out Task Force Hydra, a friendly Star Trek roleplay group integrating RP with PvE and PvP play. Task Force Hydra members don't just PvE. We don't just PvP either. We RP-PvE and we RP-PvP. Go to www.hydracommand.com for more information!
This recruitment message brought do you by the United Federation of Planets Council for the Furthering of Brownie Consumption.
"I've reconfigured The Doctor's optical sensors and as soon as they're aligned he should be able to detect the microwave signature of the portals."
"Then I can begin my new career as a tricorder."
Tired of feeling like just a number? Fleet senior officers using you only to pad their egos? Want to RP from time to time, but don't want to feel forced to take part or have the option to abstain?
Give Task Force Hydra a look. We're a small but growing fleet of Star Trek fans who pride ourselves on our family atmosphere and inclusive enviroment. We love to RP, but feel it's never our perogative to tell *you* how to spend your time.
Task Force Hydra is a fleet where *you* are an important part of *us*.
Comments
Last Breaths and Omens [Alternate Timeline]
The case to the Orb opens and a blinding flash envelops the room...
2428 - Alternate Timeline J52-S4
He felt the skull shatter beneath the butt of his antiproton rifle and yet it still kept coming. It was relentless. With teeth gritting as the man, more machine than flesh, wrapped its claw around his forearm and squeezed a single thought when through his head. He had two duties; the first, to see that his crew safely home and in the event that wasnt possible spare them as much suffering as he could, the second was to take as many of these *******s with him as possible.
And by the Prophets he was going to.
Reaching behind the abomination he felt the circuitry at its neck and he dug his fingers into cold flesh. There was a moment when it stopped crushing his arm, tensing instead and seeming quiet alarmed, but then it redoubled its efforts. He redoubled his efforts, too. Amidst long dead muscle and optical neural fiber he felt his target. It was a disc about two inches in diameter at the base of the skull and situated directly on the spinal column. His fingers closed around it and he ripped it free. The machine half came to a screeching halt and without it the flesh portion quickly ceased to live.
With a grunt of pain he pried his arm free and surveyed the bridge. He grasped the arm of his chair and noting the console embedded in it was offline used it to pull himself up into a half standing position. He coughed and waved his hand to clear the acrid smoke from the air in front of his face. The smoke mixed with flashing red amidst the darkness gave his vision a surreal quality and illuminated his ashen and soot colored face with a ghastly glow. Even though his nose ridges were faint he could feel the grime in them and it irritated him.
REPORT! He barked over the sound of torpedo explosions outside the ship. When the deck lurched he was sure the inertial dampeners were offline, or at the very least barely operating.
Internal communications are intermittent at best! Reports of security still fighting Borg on deck four! Main power, long range sensors, and our targeting scanners are offline. Oshara Jen was barely sitting upright and half of her console was offline. At the moment she found that more worrisome than how hard it was to draw in a breath. Her field medic training told her that she had a collapsing lung, probably from a rib fracture. But it didnt matter, not yet, if the ship was destroyed she was dead anyway.
Phaser banks are offline. Starboard cannon is operational at fifty percent efficiency. Aft quantum torpedo bay is .. gone, Sir. We have shields back up but only at twenty percent. She finished her report.
Well, Ensign. Thats a pretty big target out there. We shouldnt have any trouble hitting it manually. Riley said as he pulled himself into his seat on the center of the bridge. Helm, evasive maneuvers, sequence lambda three. Best possible speed. Fire at will.
The small, battered Defiant-class starship banked, dipped, and rolled as it fought to avoid the tactical cubes plasma weapons. Each time the Borg attempted to lock the tiny ship into its tractor beam it found only empty space. It was like trying to swat a fly with a toothpick. A spread of quantum torpedos lashed out from the scorched ship and exploded along the cubes hull, but the series of explosions seemed to do only minor damage against its ablative shielding; the half operational cannon was no more effective than a child throwing a jumja stick at a Pahwraith.
Static half blurred out the image on the main viewscreen. The escort dipped under a Vorcha-class attack cruiser that had lost helm control, narrowly missing it, and the angle shifted on his command to show one of the Klingons last few cruisers exploding against the cube. The small escort pitched to one side and its half-Bajoran captain slammed one of the few working controls on the right arm of his chair.
All remaining vessels! This is Captain Riley Shephard of the USS Emissary, concentrate all weapons fire onto the center of that explosion! He shouted into the comm.
The four remaining Federation ships, aided by a Klingon Raptor and one heavily damaged Galor-class warship, let loose one last valiant barrage of weapons fire onto the tactical cube. It seemed for a moment that it would resist, that the relentless, destructive force of the Borg would prevail but at the last minute their hull began to buckle and it erupted in a green shockwave that rattled the deck beneath Rileys feet.
What was left of his bridge crew let loose a resounding whoop of victory and Captain Shephard sank into his chair. He put his head into his hand. He didnt know which was throbbing worse it or his arm.
Thank the Prophets. He muttered, and even lower. That was for you, dad.
Captain. Ensign Oshara said, interrupting the celebration. Incoming transmission from DS9 to all vessels. Its Admiral Valdane.
On screen. Riley said, forcing himself to raise his head even though the bridge was spinning out of control. With a great deal of willpower he forced his vision to focus as the image on the screen shifted and a very weary, aging woman appeared on the screen. Operations had looked like it had seen better days. Hell, the entire Alpha quadrant had seen better days.
Good work, Captain. Kat said. Customarily such words would have brought a smile to her face but there was little to smile about anymore, not when almost all of your friends and colleagues had been killed or assimilated; which was worse? The actions of all of you have allowed the Romulan convoy to reach us and pass safely through the wormhole. Without your sacrifice it surely would have been lost, you saved a great many citizens of many worlds from the fate of assimilation. Return to Bajor as soon as you are able. Deep Space Nine out.
The screen flickered and reverted back to the Borg debris. Riley should have felt heartened by the message but he didnt. They all knew it was a matter of time. Earth, Vulcan, Trill, Betazed, Andoria; they were all gone. The Federation was reduced to just over fifty star systems. The Klingon Empire had buckled and QoNos was home to billions of Borg. The two Romulan factions had long since solidified and were on the same verge of extinction as the Federation; the Romulan lines, protecting Bajor, the new home of what remained of the Federation Council, crumbled more every day. Cardassia was overwhelmed with refugees and what would happen then when the Borg came there, too?
Captain, you should report to sickbay. Urged his first officer, a resilient young Betazoid man, perhaps the last of his kind. They were all young. Even he was still young, and yet compared to them he felt so very old.
See everyone Sunday. Will be on the forums as much as work will allow.
Be sure to welcome our newest recruits, Rowan, O'Carrol, and Nagato, when you see them in game and on our forums! I'm off to work. I'll see you all Sunday.
We've got your application. I won't be back in game until tomorrow but you can contact @sgtinvincible or @JUSTSILVER to be added to the fleet in game. I look forward to seeing you there. :cool:
Everyone, some new informational posts on our forums, from Uniforms to fleet bank directions. Give it a read, and let us know what you think. Your info is extremely important to us! You have a voice in TFH, use it!
Had some pretty nasty storms last night. Glad I still have power. Severe thunderstorm, tornado, and flood watches abound. We had lightning hit our station. lol
Tonight is RP night! Everyone that wishes to take part, check the fleet events page for more info! See you all at 2130!
Are you looking for a quality Star Trek-based roleplay? Check out Task Force Hydra, a friendly Star Trek roleplay group integrating RP with PvE and PvP play. Task Force Hydra members don't just PvE. We don't just PvP either. We RP-PvE and we RP-PvP. Go to www.hydracommand.com for more information!
This recruitment message brought do you by the United Federation of Planets Council for the Furthering of Brownie Consumption.
Lieutenant Christopher Rowan
First Lieutenant Gabriel O'Carroll, SFMC
Welcome to Task Force Hydra gentlemen! Now make us proud!
"Then I can begin my new career as a tricorder."
- Torres and The Doctor
Give Task Force Hydra a look. We're a small but growing fleet of Star Trek fans who pride ourselves on our family atmosphere and inclusive enviroment. We love to RP, but feel it's never our perogative to tell *you* how to spend your time.
Task Force Hydra is a fleet where *you* are an important part of *us*.
Lemme put the coffee pot on..
-Janeway to Krenim Commander
Captain John Whickfield!
Good to see you, Whick!