Mission 1: The Price of Kindness

Andrew Sheridan wrote:

USS PHOENIX

"I have a better idea," Andrew spoke up as he brought up the ship's schematics for all to see on the PADD.  "I agree that the Captain's daughter must be taken care of in the manner suggested, but Main Engineering is a hit too well expected by a prepared enemy that so easily overcame our comrades.  Thus, I suggest we hit Deck 27:  Environmental Control.  From there, we can do exactly as proposed with the gas, and still tap into the ship's sensors to look for the crew.  No one...or only one or two people would be there to guard that.  Most likely, no one at all.  After all, it isn't a critical part of the ship as most see things.  Either way, exposure to opposition would be far less, and securing the area easier and more rapid.  Ms. Jones, monitor enemy transmissions from the confiscated comm unit.  Once we tap into the gas system; we will isolate it from Environmental Control and the Captain's Quarters.  All other decks will be flooded," Andrew explained.  "Time is of the essence...so unless someone has an objection or observation to this...lets get moving.  I don't know what their time schedule for check-ins was, but we don't want them to discover they are missing someone already."

Andrew waited for any further comments before turning to his team and nodding towards the hall.  It was time to take the PHOENIX back, and find out what had happened to her people.

[USS Phoenix - Sickbay]

Thankfully, Ilana had decided not to be stubborn about the issue, and had gone away to the relative safety of the baby-rescuing assignment. He hoped that she didn't feel marginalized, but...Raynor would rather have the Cardassian upset with him than to have something bad happen to her. There was likely to be more blood shed this day.
In all honesty, that thought sent a hum through his senses, almost like an electrostatic pulse that started in the base of a spine and spread throughout his limbs. It was not unlike the feeling before mating...the singing of the blood, the razor-sharp heightening of the senses.

"Enviro control it is, then," he nodded, seeing the reasoning...but still disappointed that the assault would possibly be easier. Since the cessation of the Dominion War, Raynor had had very little excuse to exercise his combat prowess outside of training rooms. No simulation, no matter how realistic, would ever come close to the real thing. A true warrior's senses were not fooled in such a simple manner.

With no further objections to the plan, Raynor shrugged out of his KDF metals, replacing them with a medical vest from the equipment locker. He attached three canisters of the anesthetic gas to the vest, letting them hang off the sides and back, leaving his hands free should the need arise. "We should...move through the maintenance tubes," he said, going against every warrior's instinct in his body. Skulking about? Well. Sometimes it needed to be done. "We can be done with this foolishness all the more directly." With luck, there'd be someone there in the control room to kill.

USS PHOENIX

Andrew could sense the Klingon's desire to kill...to have that test in combat that was a very part of a warrior's nature. A good leader knew how to plan to get things done, but an excellent leader knew how to incorporate the needs of their people into the plan. This, Andrew, had not really thought out where Raynor was concerned. A tightly wound up Klingon warrior without the release to do what came naturally by instinct and years of training was asking for trouble. Yet, how to fix the problem was another matter. The maintenance corridors would make it extremely easy to get to their destination without being detected, and decrease the chances of encountering enemy forces. It also did not solve the problem with Raynor. They were not well armed considering the mission, and should the gassing idea fail...they would need the other weapons. An attack on the armory might be needed first...a timed raid.

"We should have a back up plan...just in case. I suggest a timed raid on the armory. It is likely to have at least two guards...possibly three considering its importance. Ms. Jones and I will go on to Environmental Control. Raynor, you can take Leonid to strike at the Armory. Make it quick and quiet as possible. If they get an alarm out...we put the Captain's children in danger. You have seventeen minutes...it will take us that long to get to Environmental Control. Once you are successful, meet us in Environmental Control. If you aren't there in twenty minutes...I will gas the ship anyway in the hopes that it is successful."

With that said, he gave the Klingon a nod of understanding, and then glanced at Ms. Jones to follow him. Off the two went to find the nearest maintenance hatch, and were soon on their way to Environmental Control...the clock already ticking.

Andrew Sheridan wrote:

USS PHOENIX

Andrew could sense the Klingon's desire to kill...to have that test in combat that was a very part of a warrior's nature.  A good leader knew how to plan to get things done, but an excellent leader knew how to incorporate the needs of their people into the plan.  This, Andrew, had not really thought out where Raynor was concerned.  A tightly wound up Klingon warrior without the release to do what came naturally by instinct and years of training was asking for trouble.  Yet, how to fix the problem was another matter.  The maintenance corridors would make it extremely easy to get to their destination without being detected, and decrease the chances of encountering enemy forces.  It also did not solve the problem with Raynor.  They were not well armed considering the mission, and should the gassing idea fail...they would need the other weapons.  An attack on the armory might be needed first...a timed raid.

"We should have a back up plan...just in case.  I suggest a timed raid on the armory.  It is likely to have at least two guards...possibly three considering its importance.  Ms. Jones and I will go on to Environmental Control.  Raynor, you can take Leonid to strike at the Armory.  Make it quick and quiet as possible.  If they get an alarm out...we put the Captain's children in danger.  You have seventeen minutes...it will take us that long to get to Environmental Control.  Once you are successful, meet us in Environmental Control.  If you aren't there in twenty minutes...I will gas the ship anyway in the hopes that it is successful."

With that said, he gave the Klingon a nod of understanding, and then glanced at Ms. Jones to follow him.  Off the two went to find the nearest maintenance hatch, and were soon on their way to Environmental Control...the clock already ticking.

[USS Phoenix - Maintenance Tubes]

Having agreed that the plan was a good one, Raynor handed his gas canisters over to Sheridan and Jones, wishing them good hunting and victory. In order to pull this off, they'd need both. Maybe a little luck, too...but Klingons did not believe in luck.

[Tubes]

On the pair moved, Raynor's long arms moving hand-over-hand to eat up distance in climbing through the tubes. Things were a little slower when it came to move perpendicularly, since being halfway over six feet in height was not conducive to ambling through what amounted to a metallic birth canal full of plasma and GNDN relays. Finally, by usage of their padd schematics, Raynor and Leonid passed through the proper juncture. Just beyond and through a metal grate was the relatively open expanse of the ship's armory.

[Armory]

Raynor hoped that Leonid had been paying attention in the quick tactics briefing he'd given the man before they'd set off. Charging through the grate, Raynor made enough noise for any ten Klingons, fully catching the attention of the two bored-looking invaders who had been making an inventory catalog of all their capture weaponry.

One of the white-suited men went for a phase rifle in an open case, but Leonid's blast took him down. The second was leveled flat by over two hundred pounds of Klingon tackling him right in the midsection. As he stood again, Raynor noted with satisfaction that the man's commbox had gone skidding to the far end of the room, unused.

"Quickly, now! Load up what we can, and let's get the hell out of here."

[N06-Arafel]

Having decided he was wrong this ship boomed back towards the Pheonix. "Turn on the stealth drive. Something's wrong. I feel it. Then once we get there; use the communication channel on their comm badge frequency."

Dropping out of warp Matthew pressed a button on his console. Suddenly all of the crews comm badges rang out this message in Morse Code ".... . / .- .-. .- ..-. . .-.. / ... - .- -. -.. ... / .-. . .- -.. -.-- .-.-.-" or in English The Arafel stands ready. Then to only T'Koris he spoke. =/\= This is Matthew Thompson of the N06-Arafel speaking to Captain Archangel T'Koris of the USS Pheonix. Can I be of assistance? =/\=

Matthew Thompson wrote:

[N06-Arafel]

Having decided he was wrong this ship boomed back towards the Pheonix. "Turn on the stealth drive. Something's wrong. I feel it. Then once we get there; use the communication channel on their comm badge frequency."

Dropping out of warp Matthew pressed a button on his console. Suddenly all of the crews comm badges rang out this message in Morse Code ".... . / .- .-. .- ..-. . .-.. / ... - .- -. -.. ... / .-. . .- -.. -.-- .-.-.-" or in English The Arafel stands ready. Then to only T'Koris he spoke. =/\= This is Matthew Thompson of the N06-Arafel speaking to Captain Archangel T'Koris of the USS Pheonix. Can I be of assistance? =/\=

[USS Phoenix - Bridge]

[NPC]

Sitting in the centre chair on the bridge, the leader of the boarding party allowed himself a triumphant smile. He had the entire ship at his fingertips, the original crew safely tucked away in a series of caves down on the surface of the planet. His most trusted soldiers stood at the various bridge stations, ready to input his orders.

It was good to be in charge.

The soldier at the security station cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable at being the bearer of bad news. "Sir, I'm picking up an external communication on the interpersonnel channel."

Turning around in the captain's chair, the leader raised an eyebrow. "Can you triangulate on the origin?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are our weapons online?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then fire a full spread at the origin."

"Yes, sir!"

Gavin Van Gelder wrote:

What was immediately important, though, was helping the captain's baby girl.  "Alright, Seika," he said, kneeling down to the child's level and smiling.  "Take Thelos and I through the crawlways to your house, please, and we'll make sure Aria is okay."  Glancing up, he noted that Dr. Telak had joined their party, so he gave her a mask, too.  As he handed the apparatus over to Thelos, Gavin made sure to gently place his other hand on the Andorian's blue one, smiling softly.  "Let's go do this."

[USS Phoenix - Sickbay]

Taking the breathing mask from Gavin, she hooked it onto her belt before helping Seika secure one over her face. A third mask joined the one on her belt for Aria once they found her. If the others were going to gas the ship, she wanted to be sure that the children were well protected.

Straightening up again, she offered her hand to the little girl, who took it happily. The child seemed to be happier now that she was with people she knew. While Seika was familiar with the one-antennaed Andorian, she wasn't so sure about the young human officer.

With a gentle push, Ilana guided Seika back to the opening of the jefferies tubes, where she assumed that the child had come through, and followed.

[Jefferies Tubes]

Ilana, like most officers, disliked the jefferies tubes. Thankfully, it was one of the few times in which her small, thin frame was actually beneficial. She didn't bang herself off the ceiling as much as the others. Up ahead, Seika was dragging herself through the tubes, her legs working as best they could to propel her along.

NPC wrote:

[USS Phoenix - Bridge]

[NPC]

Sitting in the centre chair on the bridge, the leader of the boarding party allowed himself a triumphant smile.  He had the entire ship at his fingertips, the original crew safely tucked away in a series of caves down on the surface of the planet.  His most trusted soldiers stood at the various bridge stations, ready to input his orders.

It was good to be in charge.

The soldier at the security station cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable at being the bearer of bad news.  "Sir, I'm picking up an external communication on the interpersonnel channel."

Turning around in the captain's chair, the leader raised an eyebrow.  "Can you triangulate on the origin?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are our weapons online?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then fire a full spread at the origin."

"Yes, sir!"

[N06-Arafel]

"Sir, their weapons are not only armed, but firing at us. I've taken evasive manuvers against the fire though. Orders?" A.T.L.a.S. commented.

"Lock all weapon systems on the Pheonix." Matthew commented putting on his helmet, the red v in front of his eyes gleaming. "Then open hailing frequencies turn on the vocal encryption. Have the weapons cache delivered here, I'm going to need weapons." Matthews tone had become angry and frustrated. "Drop the cloak." The veil hiding the N06 was lifted revealing a massive battleship."Finally, arm the armada protocol."

USS PHOENIX: Environmental Control

Having reached their destination without trouble; Andrew Sheridan and Ms. Jones were already working hard on tapping into the starship's security intruder system to gas the enemy. There had been no one present; just as Andrew had suspected. The PADD told him that Raynor and Leonid had only about seven minutes left to get to them before he began gassing the ship. In his mind, the seconds slipped away until the PADD registered a change from Tactical.

A firing solution was targeting the origin of a communication signal...a Starfleet one. Andrew had seconds to figure out what to do, and there were only two options. He could either misdirect the firing solution to where it missed it's target, or he could order the TRINITY's computer to beam the individual off directly to his coordinates. The last part was tricky, because doing so he would have to keep the ship's sensors from detecting a new transporter effect.

Swiftly, Andrew's fingers danced over the PADD to change the firing solution while tapping his comm badge. "Computer, isolate life sign at the following coordinates, and beam directly to this location," he ordered the TRINITY's computer. At the same time, his fingers had changed the firing solution just enough to make it look like the enemy at Tactical had simply missed. The ship's internal sensors were still scrambled from the program he used earlier, but things were now coming to the point to where it was only a matter of time before their foes realized something was wrong.

Now, he could only wait to see if he had saved the individual their enemy had been after just moments before.

'I hope you are on your way, Raynor,' Andrew thought silently.

Matthew Thompson wrote:

[N06-Arafel]

"Sir, their weapons are not only armed, but firing at us. I've taken evasive manuvers against the fire though. Orders?" A.T.L.a.S. commented.

"Lock all weapon systems on the Pheonix." Matthew commented putting on his helmet, the red v in front of his eyes gleaming. "Then open hailing frequencies turn on the vocal encryption. Have the weapons cache delivered here, I'm going to need weapons." Matthews tone had become angry and frustrated. "Drop the cloak." The veil hiding the N06 was lifted revealing a massive battleship."Finally, arm the armada protocol."

[USS Phoenix - Bridge]

[NPC]

"Sir, they're locking weapons on us," the soldier at the tactical console reported. The leader of the boarding party sighed heavily, turning to look ay a woman sitting in the first officer's chair, filing her nails. She looked up at him, smiling in a manner remniscent of a cat cornering an injured mouse.

"Well, we can't have that, can we?"

Snapping her fingers, Thompson was transported to the brig, imprisonned in one of the cells with the forcefields activated. The ship itself disappeared from the sensors and, as a matter of fact, from space itself. The woman leaned back in her chair with a happy sigh. "Much better."

NPC wrote:

[USS Phoenix - Bridge]

[NPC]

"Sir, they're locking weapons on us," the soldier at the tactical console reported.  The leader of the boarding party sighed heavily, turning to look ay a woman sitting in the first officer's chair, filing her nails.  She looked up at him, smiling in a manner remniscent of a cat cornering an injured mouse.

"Well, we can't have that, can we?"  

Snapping her fingers, Thompson was transported to the brig, imprisonned in one of the cells with the forcefields activated.  The ship itself disappeared from the sensors and, as a matter of fact, from space itself.  The woman leaned back in her chair with a happy sigh.  "Much better."

Looking to his watch he pressed a button to observe his brain activity as to make sure it wasn't abnormal. Feeling around in the pockets of his leather trench coat Matthew found his original Comm Badge. "Thank the heavens..." The young man commented under his breath. Putting the badge on and pressing it he spoke directly to Archangel. =/\= Thompson to T'Koris, I'm a little...well...trapped up here. Think you might be able to send someone my way? As soon as I get out of here I'm going to become ensign kick-ass. That is, if you'll have me back aboard the ship. Otherwise I'll just be Mr. Kick-ass. =/\=

[USS Phoenix - Enviro Control]

The first thing to come through the maintenance hatch access point were two slivery cases full of phaser pistols.  They clanged to the floor, and were soon followed by the slim, dark-haired figure of Alexi Leonid, who was in turn followed by the bulkier figure of Raynor Hughes. Both men also carried rifles.

"All clear," he said, rubbing a sore spot on his ridged forehead.  That would probably bruise.  "Two of the enemy neutralized.  Stunned," he amended, in deference to Starfleet's more delicate sensibilities.  He hated to stun a downed man, but there was even less honor in vaporizing them.  "If we're going to do this, let's do it."

NPC
Pala Nrol

[Planetside - Cavern]

Nrol's attention was drawn by the confusion and rumbling in one of the far corners of the cave. Great, he thought. Just what we needed. This mad plan gets madder all the time! As Pala, his job was to lead his squadron, and not to question orders, but...these orders were likely to get them all killed. These aliens, and his own people.

How was he to secure such a large group of people? He was only supposed to hope they didn't have more weapons concealed? It was a delicate balance to walk - if Nrol started summary round-ups of equipment, then these prisoners would surely use their numbers against his soldiers, rather than be taken over. And so he had to play this game underground, hoping that his superiors had things under control on the captured starship. Hoping that the woman whose insane plan this had been in the first place was to uphold her end of their bargain. A lot to hope for, but not a lot of reason to believe in it. I need to retire.

"Captain," Nrol said, his voice filtered through his tactical helm. "See to your people. We will be leaving this cave momentarily, where you will be processed."

[Cave]

Henriks tapped his comm badge, not even sure it would work down in the cave. Yelling certainly wouldn't do them any good. There was too much rubble between them and the others for any sound to get through. And who knew what the yelling might attract. He certainly didn't want to run into another one of those soldiers. =/\=Ābols to Commander Arthur, or anyone. Can you hear us? There are three of us trapped in a tunnel, multiple injuries.=/\=

He turned back to Chira and Davis. "We can either stay here or move down one of the two tunnels," Henriks mused. But how far would they have to walk before they found their way out, if they found their way out? He didn't relish the idea of doing just that at the moment, his ankle still throbbing. And given the injuries the other two had, it probably wasn't a good idea for them either. "But before we do anything, let's see what we can do about the aches and pains."

NPC wrote:

NPC
Pala Nrol

[Planetside - Cavern]

"Captain," Nrol said, his voice filtered through his tactical helm.  "See to your people.  We will be leaving this cave momentarily, where you will be processed."  

[Planetside - Cavern]

"Processed?"

Archangel narrowed her eyes at the soldier in front of her, putting her hands on her hips and generally projecting an air of 'I've had enough of being jerked around, I'm out for blood now'.

Moving so that she was standing square in front of him, the Romulan drew herself up to her full height, trying to appear as intimidating as possible. "What do you mean by 'processed'?"

Henriks Ābols wrote:

[Cave]

Henriks tapped his comm badge, not even sure it would work down in the cave. Yelling certainly wouldn't do them any good. There was too much rubble between them and the others for any sound to get through. And who knew what the yelling might attract. He certainly didn't want to run into another one of those soldiers. =/\=Ābols to Commander Arthur, or anyone. Can you hear us? There are three of us trapped in a tunnel, multiple injuries.=/\=

He turned back to Chira and Davis. "We can either stay here or move down one of the two tunnels," Henriks mused. But how far would they have to walk before they found their way out, if they found their way out? He didn't relish the idea of doing just that at the moment, his ankle still throbbing. And given the injuries the other two had, it probably wasn't a good idea for them either. "But before we do anything, let's see what we can do about the aches and pains."

[Planetside - Cave-in]

Chira coughed again, horking up enough rock dust to choke a Horta. Or, at least, that's what it felt like. The scratching in her throat was mildly distracting from the pain in her ankle and ribs, though. Leaning up against the far wall, Chira gingerly held up her left leg, taking pressure off the injured ankle.

She glanced over to her fiancee, shaking her head. "I...I don't think we should go far," she said, her voice quiet. "It hurts too much. My ribs." Chira hated to admit it, knowing that she might slow them down, and she also hated to make Henriks worry for her. But there was a time and a place for truth, no matter how bad it was. "I can't make it, Henriks. Not that far."

Ilana Telak wrote:

Ilana, like most officers, disliked the jefferies tubes.  Thankfully, it was one of the few times in which her small, thin frame was actually beneficial.  She didn't bang herself off the ceiling as much as the others.  Up ahead, Seika was dragging herself through the tubes, her legs working as best they could to propel her along.

[Arthur-T'Koris Quarters]

Quite a few moments (and banged forehead, knees, and elbows) later, Gavin found himself and the small, odd party he traveled with popping out of an access hatch and into the hall of the Senior Officer's habitation deck. Seika had moved like a pro through the tubes, which, from what Gavin had heard, wasn't surprising at all.

The group moved quickly, quietly, and carefully through the halls and into the quarters of the captain and XO. As they entered, a serene woman that Gav assumed to be the holositter looked up, cocking her head. "Seika, your parents did not say you were allowed visitors." From where she was sitting on the floor, Aria looked up and squealed in delight. "Ika!" she giggled.

Matthew Thompson wrote:

Looking to his watch he pressed a button to observe his brain activity as to make sure it wasn't abnormal. Feeling around in the pockets of his leather trench coat Matthew found his original Comm Badge. "Thank the heavens..." The young man commented under his breath. Putting the badge on and pressing it he spoke directly to Archangel. =/\= Thompson to T'Koris, I'm a little...well...trapped up here. Think you might be able to send someone my way? As soon as I get out of here I'm going to become ensign kick-ass. That is, if you'll have me back aboard the ship. Otherwise I'll just be Mr. Kick-ass. =/\=

[USS Phoenix - Bridge]

Slowly, Jarol turned his attention back to the infernal woman who sat in the chair next to him, the incessant scritch of her nail filer seeming to fill his brain cavity like an alarm klaxon.  How much filing did her stars-damned nails need?  Opening his mouth, Jarol was about to ask just that question, when one of his people at a console spoke up.

"Commandant!  Someone has just tried to get a comm signal out of this vessel's holding cells."  Jarol cocked an eyebrow at the woman beside him, who seemed quite unconcerned.  In fact, her blase attitude was really starting to wear thin.  "Well," Jarol said, "open a channel to the brig."  The crewman at the console gave an abashed look.  "Er...I'm not quite...sure...how to."

From her chair, the woman make a disappointed tsk noise, shaking her head.  "Children, children," she scolded, moving her stout, pink-clothed form over to the console.  "If you cannot play with your toys properly...perhaps you should not play with them at all."  She tapped a few buttons on the console, doing it again in a patronizingly slow motion, so that the crewman could follow.  "There you are, Commandant," she smiled, her voice dripping with enough sweetness to choke a haka-beast.

Jarol gave a smile that was somewhere between a grimace and a rictus death-grin.  "Brig occupant, you are a prisoner of the Hunari Imperium."  He could have sworn that the damned woman gave a titter at the name of his empire.  Ignoring it, he continued.  "Your communications will not penetrate the holding cell fields, so I advise you to keep calm and await processing.  If you have skills suitable for the Imperium, they will be put to use.  End transmission."

Sighing, Jarol sat back in his seat, trying not to flinch as the woman started filing her nails again.  He would be glad when this was over, but any suffering was worth it, to gain the firepower of this mighty ship for his people's faction.

NPC wrote:

Commandant Jarol

[USS Phoenix - Bridge]

Slowly, Jarol turned his attention back to the infernal woman who sat in the chair next to him, the incessant scritch of her nail filer seeming to fill his brain cavity like an alarm klaxon.  How much filing did her stars-damned nails need?  Opening his mouth, Jarol was about to ask just that question, when one of his people at a console spoke up.

"Commandant!  Someone has just tried to get a comm signal out of this vessel's holding cells."  Jarol cocked an eyebrow at the woman beside him, who seemed quite unconcerned.  In fact, her blase attitude was really starting to wear thin.  "Well," Jarol said, "open a channel to the brig."  The crewman at the console gave an abashed look.  "Er...I'm not quite...sure...how to."

From her chair, the woman make a disappointed tsk noise, shaking her head.  "Children, children," she scolded, moving her stout, pink-clothed form over to the console.  "If you cannot play with your toys properly...perhaps you should not play with them at all."  She tapped a few buttons on the console, doing it again in a patronizingly slow motion, so that the crewman could follow.  "There you are, Commandant," she smiled, her voice dripping with enough sweetness to choke a haka-beast.

Jarol gave a smile that was somewhere between a grimace and a rictus death-grin.  "Brig occupant, you are a prisoner of the Hunari Imperium."  He could have sworn that the damned woman gave a titter at the name of his empire.  Ignoring it, he continued.  "Your communications will not penetrate the holding cell fields, so I advise you to keep calm and await processing.  If you have skills suitable for the Imperium, they will be put to use.  End transmission."

Sighing, Jarol sat back in his seat, trying not to flinch as the woman started filing her nails again.  He would be glad when this was over, but any suffering was worth it, to gain the firepower of this mighty ship for his people's faction.

"Then let me out of here. I've been a bounty hunter; not a stranger to working for hire. You let me out and you will have a weapon you cannot imagine. If you don't let me out I can promise you; there is nothing you can do that will cause me to work for you." The commented was just yelled filling the space; even though no one could hear it as far as he was aware. His eyes were like swirling fire. "[i]What they don't know is that I have defects. Parkinson's, the system overloads...and his rage.

USS PHOENIX: Environmental Control

Andrew was never happier to see the Klingon.

Swiftly, he tapped out a message to Ilana on his PADD to her own. It is time. I hope you all have the Captain's daughter by now, because in three minutes...the gas will spread through the ship. The Captain's quarters and Environmental Control will be sealed away. Good luck!

"Ms. Jones, start the gassing system. I have already locked the counter measures out from the Bridge and Engineering. With in three minutes, the gas will take out our unwanted guests, and I am going to start looking for our people," Andrew stated as he smiled up at the Klingon. "Good work, you two."

With Ops, Tactical, and Engineering locked out of the counter measures to take down the gassing units on the starship...Andrew now turned his attention to using the ship's sensors to find their people. He smiled to himself as he worked feverishly through the PADD that had been tapped into the Ops station on the Bridge. Just seconds before the gassing began; Andrew found the crew...they were all down on the planet in a system of caves. The seconds ticked by in Andrew's head.

"Here we go, people...gassing in three...two...one....presto!" Andrew announced to his comrades, and at the same time...he began sorting through the Ops commands in order to find a way to beam the crew back once the gassing had been taken care of. He didn't dare send a communique to them...to do so might have warned their foes. Nor was he aware of any telepaths among the crew with which he could at least warn them...for such things usually required a bond or line of sight. Strong as he was...he wasn't that good. It would take years to get to that point, and so he was going to have to beam them up without warning. Time was of the essence. He couldn't just bring them back while the gas swept through the ship. He had to wait....

Andrew Sheridan wrote:

"Here we go, people...gassing in three...two...one....presto!" Andrew announced to his comrades, and at the same time...he began sorting through the Ops commands in order to find a way to beam the crew back once the gassing had been taken care of.  He didn't dare send a communique to them...to do so might have warned their foes.  Nor was he aware of any telepaths among the crew with which he could at least warn them...for such things usually required a bond or line of sight.  Strong as he was...he wasn't that good.  It would take years to get to that point, and so he was going to have to beam them up without warning.  Time was of the essence. He couldn't just bring them back while the gas swept through the ship.  He had to wait....

[USS Phoenix - Environmental Control]

Raynor flashed a feral grin as Sheridan and Jones began the process of flooding out the ship with anesthetic gas. It would only be step one of the process, however - once the invaders were prone, they'd have to be removed. Hopefully, it'd be a matter of form just to transport the crew up...and these people down.

The sound of a ship-wide alarm jerked Raynor's attention to the control room's doors. "It appears they know something is up," he muttered. Someone could have found the knocked-out people in the armory, or maybe the fact that they were dropping like snoring baby targ tipped them off. Either way, their window of time just narrowed. "Keep pouring the gas on," he said, shouldering a large rifle. "Leonid and I will cover the door, in case they try anything cute."

Chira Abols wrote:

[Planetside - Cave-in]

Chira coughed again, horking up enough rock dust to choke a Horta.  Or, at least, that's what it felt like.  The scratching in her throat was mildly distracting from the pain in her ankle and ribs, though.  Leaning up against the far wall, Chira gingerly held up her left leg, taking pressure off the injured ankle.  

She glanced over to her fiancee, shaking her head.  "I...I don't think we should go far," she said, her voice quiet.  "It hurts too much.  My ribs."  Chira hated to admit it, knowing that she might slow them down, and she also hated to make Henriks worry for her.  But there was a time and a place for truth, no matter how bad it was.  "I can't make it, Henriks.  Not that far."

[Cave-in]

Henriks tried not to grimace. Things were not looking very good at all. He rubbed Chira's back lightly as she coughed, hoping to soothe some of the pain that she clearly felt. She grudgingly admitted about the aches of her ribs, but given the way she seemed to favor her right leg, he feared there was more. This was not a time he wished to be right. Needing to stay calm, he took a deep breath and held it for a moment. He felt so helpless. There was nothing he could do to help Chira, or Davis, because he had no tools. And now they were that much further from their crewmates and any chance of getting equipment.

"We might as well just stay where we are," Henriks said. There was no way he could support the ensign's weight by himself, with muscles in his shoulders and back screaming at him, and he was not about to burden Chira. "We have no idea where those tunnels lead, we wouldn't get very far, and it's probably better to stay close to where our crewmates last saw us."

Gavin Van Gelder wrote:

The group moved quickly, quietly, and carefully through the halls and into the quarters of the captain and XO.  As they entered, a serene woman that Gav assumed to be the holositter looked up, cocking her head.  "Seika, your parents did not say you were allowed visitors."  From where she was sitting on the floor, Aria looked up and squealed in delight.  "Ika!" she giggled.  

[Captain's Quarters]

It had been easier for Ilana's small frame to make her way through the jefferies tubes than it had been for Gabin, but they all followed the little girl as she made her way with surprising confidence through the tubes and into the corridor outside the senior staff quarters.

If felt wrong, somehow, to be stepping into a commanding officer's home without the permission of that commanding officer, but the Cardassian knew that she had to get to the child quickly and secure a breathing mask over her mouth and nose. A bleeping sound from her medkit distracted her briefly and she pulled out a PADD to read a new message on it:

Andrew Sheridan wrote:

It is time. I hope you all have the Captain's daughter by now, because in three minutes...the gas will spread through the ship. The Captain's quarters and Environmental Control will be sealed away. Good luck!

Only giving the hologram a cursory nod, Ilana scooped up the little girl sitting on the floor, unhooking the spare breathing mask from her belt and quickly securing it in place. Only then did she breathe a sigh of relief. Now they should be safe from the gas.

[USS Phoenix - Bridge]

The longer the situation went on, the more animated Jarol became. "What do you mean 'they're falling asleep'!?" he practically shouted, jumping up out of the chair and moving over to the Operations panel. The occupant of that, the long-suffering Lieutenant Sess, threw up her arms in exasperation. "I mean what I mean, Commandant! I received an intruder alert from the Armory, and then decks started reporting that they're passing out...those that did report!"

Jarol rounded on the woman sitting in the secondary seat, pointing an accusing finger. "You! You have something to do with this, don't you? Have you tired of us, and you've decided that you would rather have those people back?"

Quietly, deliberately, the woman put her nail file away, examining her cuticles as if they were the most important thing in the galaxy. After a few more long moments, she turned her dark blue eyes toward Jarol, smiling that cat-in-the-creamery smile. "Oh, you're right on one account, Jarol...I have tried of you. As for the rest...? Well." She looked around the bridge, rapping her knuckles on the back of her chair. "Resourceful little things, aren't they? Good luck. You're going to need it." With that, she clapped her hands and...disappeared.

His mouth working in rage, Jarol turned to yell for another status report. It was then that he noticed he was the last person awake on the bridge. "I hate these people," he said, sinking to his knees as blissful unconsciousness blanketed him to sleep.

USS PHOENIX: Environmental Control

The sensors reported that the last one of the intruders was out cold, and by the life signs of the report he was looking at...it was a good bet they would be out for some time. Having found the crew; Andrew had been working hard to find a way to beam them back to where they belonged. With the enemy neutralized; Andrew nodded for Ms. Jones to stop the gassing effect, and to vent all decks of it. This would likely take about ten minutes, but the enemy was going to be out for a lot longer than that. Until then, he simply couldn't beam them all back, but he could beam the Captain back. She was rather unique among the ship's personnel, and thus easy to beam up. Doing so would show her that the ship was secured, and her children safe....something that would give her no end of peace no doubt.

Locking on to her bio signature; Andrew began the process of beaming Captain T'Koris to the Environmental Control room. In ten minutes, her ship would be once more manned as it should be.

Andrew Sheridan wrote:

USS PHOENIX:  Environmental Control
Andrew nodded for Ms. Jones to stop the gassing effect, and to vent all decks of it.  This would likely take about ten minutes, but the enemy was going to be out for a lot longer than that.  Until then, he simply couldn't beam them all back, but he could beam the Captain back.  She was rather unique among the ship's personnel, and thus easy to beam up.  Doing so would show her that the ship was secured, and her children safe....something that would give her no end of peace no doubt.

Locking on to her bio signature; Andrew began the process of beaming Captain T'Koris to the Environmental Control room.  In ten minutes, her ship would be once more manned as it should be.

[Planetside - Cavern]

Archangel had been about to demand answers from the soldier in front of her when he had grabbed her arm, throwing her forward, apparently starting to herd the crew towards whatever this 'processing' was. She ended up on her knees on the dusty, dirty floor of the cavern, her knee having been unable to handle the sudden impact of her weight coming down on it in an attempt to stabilise herself. She twisted around, instinctively on guard.

Then a familiar sensation blanketed her body, the tingling feeling of dematerialisation.

[USS Phoenix - Environmental Control]

As soon as she was fully materialised in the room, Archangel scanned the people gathered there before relaxing fractionally. They were all wearing uniforms she recognised, all Starfleet. Well, apart from the Klingon, but she recognised him as being Raynor Hughes, a friend of Ilana's.

With the help of a nearby console, she pulled herself back up to her feet, still warily watching them. Despite the comfort that came from seeing them, she couldn't help but remember that she had no idea who or what had beamed them off the ship in the first place.

"Report," came the simple word, one whose response would hopefully bring her some peace of mind.