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Join Date: Apr 2013
04-29-2013, 06:17 AM
Andrea Stood at the Captain’s Chair with Genis. At the Helm Console was a Frustrated-Looking Jem’Hadar.
“Helm, Evasive Beta.” Andrea commanded as the Helmsman placed the ship hard to port, then hard to starboard, keeping the nose on the asteroid they had marked as a target. That was the theory, anyway.
“Narse, how could you fail such a simple maneuver five times out of five?” Genis looked like he was going to punch the Helmsman in the back of the head, but Andrea had learned that most violence against their own was performed in the ring. Of course the losers at chess of late were being punched in the head, but that was being kept in the holodeck. For now.
“Warlord… Captain… I don’t know!” Failure was death to the Jem’Hadar, and Narse 21 wasn’t taking his multiple deaths well. He looked like he was about to punch the helm controls, but restrained himself from damaging the equipment. To Andrea, this was one of the largest differences between Klingons and Jem’Hadar; less collateral ship damage.
At Narse’s outburst Genis did move to strike him, but Andrea interposed herself and moved down to the station. “Let’s see how you have your controls configured.” Andrea studied the controls. “Who uses this control pattern?”
“This is the pattern given to us by the Vorta, Captain.”
“Ah. Well, he is a fine Vorta, but I think for helm control we can move this… here, and place this… there. See what I am doing?”
“Yes Captain, moving like controls into groups.”
“Correct, with coordinate and manual controls in the center, and larger. Alright, let’s try this again.”
The controls were adjusted several more times until Narse was smoothly working through the maneuvers.
“Well, victory at last.” Genis said. “I do believe you owe the Captain for your life. I do have an idea for that, as well.” He looked over at Andrea with a subdued smile. She had started to see it shortly after their third chess match, when they started using timers.
“Well, those are the standard maneuvers. I’ll leave you and Narse to begin working on our firing patterns. We serve the Founders, Genis.”
“Victory is life, Captain.”
Andrea made her way to her quarters, where Allen waited for her, along with Sal’Ar Rei.
“How goes the war?” Allen was sipping something with mint leaves in it, and Sal’Ar was drinking something remarkably dark.
“I have learned that Genis is excellent at attack strategies, and that Vorta Sal’Ar Rei has never flown a ship in combat.” The two humans chuckled a bit.
“Now why is that funny?” The Vorta asked while drinking innocently.
“Your navigation controls almost blew up a helmsman. Let your watch know that Narse is testing a new configuration from me, and they are to offer input.”
“You realize that Dominion command structure goes from top to bottom?”
“I do. Starfleet command structure rewards those with good ideas, regardless of the rank. They do the flying, they should have a say.”
“As you wish.”
“Warlord Genis is working on optimal attack patterns and weapon spreads. I’ll know more by morning.”
“My Watch has been finding the sensor resolution for our young dragon.” Allen sipped a bit more on his drink. “Federation sensors, but there is a lot of noise we haven’t worked out yet coming from the ship. Now for cloaked operations we are golden, Selan has configured everything to a T once we are cloaked.”
“At which point we can only use passive sensors anyway.” Andrea agreed with the finished thought. “Alright, it’s my rack time, gentlemen. Same time tomorrow.”
Sleep came easily. They were cruising Mars’ solar orbit, preparing the crew for the fight of their lives. After being knocked unconscious by Genis, time in the regenerator, playing chess, training helmsman while memorizing specs on new weapons and reading engineering report on fuel consumption…
A sound brought her back from the edge of sleep. A quiet whining sound, a background noise if there had been any other noise in the room. An insect sound that was mechanical. A small machine working, a servo.
A Borg manipulator.
She was on her feet instantly, standing in a huge room covered with cable and hose. Hot, damp air that smelled like methane made her want to gag. The room was titanic in size, and around the room on hundreds of levels, swarmed the Borg.
She spun around to come face to hideous face with the Borg Queen. The Queen was suspended from the ceiling with scores of cables and hoses, much like the room, and the Borg who served her.
“Welcome back, my little drone.”
“I no longer serve. I’d tell you to go to hell, but we’re here already.”
“This is a heavenly place. The Borg exist as one massive family that holds no secrets, no resentments…”
“No freedom, no creativity, no life.”
“Life is what I make of it.” The Queen’s left arm was too large to have naturally grown, and her right arm ended in long, sharp talons she kept clicking together. “I could take your life if I wanted to.”
“If that were true, you would have.”
“Why have you come here?!” The angered Queen willed herself to be nose to nose with Andrea.
“I thought you summoned me, but now I understand. I understand!”
Andrea woke in the dark, so soaked in sweat that her clothes clung to her like she had slept in the shower. “I understand. I can hear you.”