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4thdimension · 17th July 2007, 10:42 AM

Star Trek
Mission Delta
Excerpt, Chapter 1
Katana'clan swept his view across the rocky plateau. White streaks of lightning arched in jagged lines across an obsidian black sky, fat drops of rain pelted his dull blue skin. He sniffed the air, his grip tightening on the klingon batliff that he'd pulled from his fallen comrade's chest.
He looked down at the Klingon, Bar'al, as his armer laden chest resettled into the mud, his limp body flopping like a children's doll. Katana'clan stepped over the body and headed further on into the misty night.
"Victory is life". The Jem'hadar growled in way of farewell to the fallen warrior. His night vision provided him with a clear path to the mountain a half kilometer to the west. He proceeded, scanning left and right, constantly. The batliff was pulled toward his chest, blades facing outward. He knew that the Hirogen would prefer to take it's prey by hand if possible.
The mountain he sought grew nearer and nearer, and then, all at once Katana'clan heard a twig snap behind him, in the same moment he felt his body twisting, the blade of the batliff meeting the Hirogen's metal armer with a resunding clang. For a moment the night was a blaze with sparks, he saw the Hirogen's rough, orange skin wrinkle into a smile. Katana'clan was first to act, he swung the blade at the Hirogens temple in a skillful swing, but the Hirogen was faster. It swung down and away, and the Jem'hadar felt a thick metallic boot in his gut, and felt the larger alien's blade slash across his chest. His blood mixed with the rain, precious tetracil white wasting away in the downpour.
A part of him registered the wound, a bigger, more primal part countered the Hirogen as it slashed again with the dagger. Katana'clan kicked savagely into the aliens side as the blade went wide. The Jem'Hadar's hand moved for his own blade as he threw the batliff away, the next moment he felt the Hirogen's thick blood spraying on his rough, rigid face. The Hirogen fell back, it's hand groping at the slash along it's thick orange neck. As the large male hit the ground it's hand found the plasma weapon in the mag-lock on it's leg, pulled it out, and droped it again as Kata'clan's blade found it's eye.
lightning flooded the sky, much closer this time. in the momentary daylight Katana'clan's eyes swept the rocky plateau. To the left, five Hirogen walked in formation toward Ba'rall, the fallen member of the Klingon/Starfleet Joint task force. The Hirogen's large plasma rifles swung back and forth in the air, tasting it, scanning it. Kata'clan nelt down beside the fallen Hirogen, pulled it's plasma weapon from it's mag-lock plate. The jem'hadar ran into the night, toward the mountain. Toward the caves where his superior officer hid, awaiting rescue. The Klingon Special Ops officer dead in the mud was cut into pieces as the Hirogen claimed their trophy in the night.
The USS Prometheus, flag ship of Star Fleet, orbited a small class M planet on the edge of what had once been Borg space. Captain Geordy Laforge scanned the read out on his tactical display that set nestled between his chair and the chair of his acting first officer, tactical expert on Borg Captain Elizabeth Shelby . His light blue cybernetic eyes didn't miss the tension that tightened her body, nor that of his own.
"Engeneering, report." The tension, fear, in his own voice surprised him, embarrassed him. It had been many years since he'd been face to face with the Borg, and many years since Star Fleet had even heard from them. The actions of Admiral Janeway on the fateful day of her return from the Delta Quadrant had been profound. Some of Star Fleet's brightest speculated that the Borg collective might have even been destroyed, but as the Star Fleets official probe into that quadrant arrived two days ago, the Prometheus's long range scanners told them otherwise. The Borg were not only here, judging by the number of transwarp trails in the area, they wer thriving. Laforge felt like a man lost at sea, clinging to a plank of balsa wood, with sharks circling. He shook the image off. The promethius was far from a sunken dingy. She was the creme de la creme of the fleet. Her offensive and defensive prowess surpassing even that of the Enterprise and the legendary Defiant class starship.
"Transwarp drive is on stand by sir." Ford, from engineering reported as required, and Captain LaForge noted the slight edge of fear in his voice as well. La forge stood, taking a few steps toward the towering view screen, and turned to tactical.
"Mr. T'val, deploy armer." The tacticle officer swiftly complied and LaForge felt the replicated armor sliding into place along the outer hull. The promethious was one of the few vessels to be fitted with the futuristic armer. The Enterprise had proven too large, the defiant, too small. Very few really understood the exact workings of the armer. It was a matter of luck that it had yielded itself perfectly to the experimental Prometheus as well as the Intrepid class. LaForge turned back to the view screen, swearing quietly to himself.
"Sir?" T'val from tactical inquired. Laforge turned, shaking his head. Shelby shared his concern, she stared straight ahead, toward the dark, bleak planet below. Brilliant flashes of lighting flashed along the surface. Dark masses of cloud engulfed the surface obscuring the rocky surface below.
"Activate the cloak lieutenant." The vulcan's head turned less than a quarter of an inch to the left, indicating great confusion, or perhaps, more appropriately for a Vulcan, the reaction to an illogical request. With the Prometheus clocked, any survivors on the surface who had managed to salvage scanning equipment from the wreckage of the Dominion convoy vessel would not be able to detect them. Regardless, T'val did as he was told.
"Cloak activated Captain." The Vulcan intoned from tactical. LaForge nodded toward the view screen, and returned to his seat. He noted with concern the tension he saw in his bridge crew. All except for T'val. The Captain assumed that the feeling was there, somewhere, if he ever cared to dig deep enough to find it. Right now however, he had larger issues then an uptight tactical officer.
"Scan for life signs." The words stuck in his throat, now that the time had come to say them. Zero hour. Admiral Picard was alive, or he wasn't. It was time to find out.

Katana'clan reached the caves of the shale mountain and fell into it's tight opening. Blood ran from his mouth, plasma exploded behind him. Admiral Jean Luc Picard turned from the ad hoc transporter pad at his side at a speed that belied his age.
"Katana'clan!" The frail human was at his side in a moment, it's soft pink hands feeling along the ridges of the Jem'hadar's head, feeling for a pulse. He could feel the human's eyes boring into the gaping hole in his back. Plasma rifle damage that no amount of white could silence in time.
"Picard....go now." With that, Katan'clan was dead.
Picard was suddenly very aware that the firing had stopped. Hirognen. The Hirogen were outside of the cave, and the Admiral had no delusion as to what they would do if they caught him here. He placed a parting hand on the fallen Jem'hadar, a brave man, and a good star fleet officer. Then, very slowly, he backed into the cave.
His feet met the flat plastic of the transporter pad, very out of place in this cave, and he spoke to the computer, not knowing whether he should expect a reply. As two eight foot Hirogen entered the cave, their long curved blades at the ready, stepping over the body of Commander Katana'clan, Picard dissipeared in a shower of blue light.

"Captain, I'm detecting a subspace signature." T'val called out, his face a solid wall of utter detachment. Nevertheless the import of what he was saying was not lost on Laforge. "A federation transporter signal." Laforge was in action at once.
"All right people, this is it." He was behind T'val at tacticle in an instant, his hand clapping down the stoic Vulcan. "I want that signal traced, and I want to know where the Captain is, now!"
"Captain!" Laforge swung back to T'val, something was wrong. Very wrong. The Vulcan's left eye brow was cocked approximately a half centemeter higher than the right, his fingers pushing firmly into the console. T'val turned towards to the Captain. "Two vessels have entered the system. I have identified them as Hirogen warships."
"Hirogen? Out here?" Laforge restrained himself from checking the Voyager Database himself, instead he made his way back to his command chair.
"Affirmative Captain. Two Hirogen warships, bearing 321. mark 3. They are on an intercept course Captain, presumably toward the planet."
Laforge let out a long sigh, weighing his options. "Have they seen us?"
"I do not belive so, sir. However, there is a chance that they have detected the transport presumably made by Admiral Picard." Laforge scoffed, shook his head and stood again.
"No, not from that range." He turned towards his communications officer, lieutenent Tony Reed. "lieutenent, are they making any communications that you can detect?" Leutinent Reed did not need to check his readings again, he had been diligenetly monitoring the situation.
"Negative sir. No communication whatsoever. They're running silent."
"Here I was expecting to face the Borg after all these years." Captain Shelby spoke up from the commander's chair. Laforge regarded her with a mixture of repulsion and amusement.
"One at at a time Elizabeth." Laforge said. Captain Shelby smiled. Laforge nodded toward leutinent Reed. "Let's see them."
Reed made a few deft movements across the holographic control interface and the ships came in view. They were huge, easily dwarfing the Prometheus. Long and cylindrical, they looked more like the plasma rifles that the Hirogin sported then space fearing vessels. The entire bridge crew watched in silence as the vessels passed by.
"Laforge to transporter room one, I need a lock on Admiral Picard, and I need it now."
"Impossible Captain, through this much interferance. I have a lock on Commander Katana'clan's combadge, but not Admiral Picards. I can tell that the Admiral is not in the immediate area, but that's all. " The crisp Bolian transporter officer's voice was laced with regret. Captain Laforge considered a moment.
"Allright then, Ensign Torbun, beam Commander Kata'clan directly to the situation room." Laforge walked to the ready room without looking back at his bridge crew. He tapped his com badge once. "Senior officers to the situation room now."
The smoldering body of his first officer met him on the other side, his dark crimson blood soaking into the carpet.

17th July 2007, 10:42 AM	#1 (permalink)
4thdimension Registered User Join Date: Jul 2007 Location: North Carolina Posts: 31	Star Trek: Mission Delta Star Trek Mission Delta Excerpt, Chapter 1 Katana'clan swept his view across the rocky plateau. White streaks of lightning arched in jagged lines across an obsidian black sky, fat drops of rain pelted his dull blue skin. He sniffed the air, his grip tightening on the klingon batliff that he'd pulled from his fallen comrade's chest. He looked down at the Klingon, Bar'al, as his armer laden chest resettled into the mud, his limp body flopping like a children's doll. Katana'clan stepped over the body and headed further on into the misty night. "Victory is life". The Jem'hadar growled in way of farewell to the fallen warrior. His night vision provided him with a clear path to the mountain a half kilometer to the west. He proceeded, scanning left and right, constantly. The batliff was pulled toward his chest, blades facing outward. He knew that the Hirogen would prefer to take it's prey by hand if possible. The mountain he sought grew nearer and nearer, and then, all at once Katana'clan heard a twig snap behind him, in the same moment he felt his body twisting, the blade of the batliff meeting the Hirogen's metal armer with a resunding clang. For a moment the night was a blaze with sparks, he saw the Hirogen's rough, orange skin wrinkle into a smile. Katana'clan was first to act, he swung the blade at the Hirogens temple in a skillful swing, but the Hirogen was faster. It swung down and away, and the Jem'hadar felt a thick metallic boot in his gut, and felt the larger alien's blade slash across his chest. His blood mixed with the rain, precious tetracil white wasting away in the downpour. A part of him registered the wound, a bigger, more primal part countered the Hirogen as it slashed again with the dagger. Katana'clan kicked savagely into the aliens side as the blade went wide. The Jem'Hadar's hand moved for his own blade as he threw the batliff away, the next moment he felt the Hirogen's thick blood spraying on his rough, rigid face. The Hirogen fell back, it's hand groping at the slash along it's thick orange neck. As the large male hit the ground it's hand found the plasma weapon in the mag-lock on it's leg, pulled it out, and droped it again as Kata'clan's blade found it's eye. lightning flooded the sky, much closer this time. in the momentary daylight Katana'clan's eyes swept the rocky plateau. To the left, five Hirogen walked in formation toward Ba'rall, the fallen member of the Klingon/Starfleet Joint task force. The Hirogen's large plasma rifles swung back and forth in the air, tasting it, scanning it. Kata'clan nelt down beside the fallen Hirogen, pulled it's plasma weapon from it's mag-lock plate. The jem'hadar ran into the night, toward the mountain. Toward the caves where his superior officer hid, awaiting rescue. The Klingon Special Ops officer dead in the mud was cut into pieces as the Hirogen claimed their trophy in the night. The USS Prometheus, flag ship of Star Fleet, orbited a small class M planet on the edge of what had once been Borg space. Captain Geordy Laforge scanned the read out on his tactical display that set nestled between his chair and the chair of his acting first officer, tactical expert on Borg Captain Elizabeth Shelby . His light blue cybernetic eyes didn't miss the tension that tightened her body, nor that of his own. "Engeneering, report." The tension, fear, in his own voice surprised him, embarrassed him. It had been many years since he'd been face to face with the Borg, and many years since Star Fleet had even heard from them. The actions of Admiral Janeway on the fateful day of her return from the Delta Quadrant had been profound. Some of Star Fleet's brightest speculated that the Borg collective might have even been destroyed, but as the Star Fleets official probe into that quadrant arrived two days ago, the Prometheus's long range scanners told them otherwise. The Borg were not only here, judging by the number of transwarp trails in the area, they wer thriving. Laforge felt like a man lost at sea, clinging to a plank of balsa wood, with sharks circling. He shook the image off. The promethius was far from a sunken dingy. She was the creme de la creme of the fleet. Her offensive and defensive prowess surpassing even that of the Enterprise and the legendary Defiant class starship. "Transwarp drive is on stand by sir." Ford, from engineering reported as required, and Captain LaForge noted the slight edge of fear in his voice as well. La forge stood, taking a few steps toward the towering view screen, and turned to tactical. "Mr. T'val, deploy armer." The tacticle officer swiftly complied and LaForge felt the replicated armor sliding into place along the outer hull. The promethious was one of the few vessels to be fitted with the futuristic armer. The Enterprise had proven too large, the defiant, too small. Very few really understood the exact workings of the armer. It was a matter of luck that it had yielded itself perfectly to the experimental Prometheus as well as the Intrepid class. LaForge turned back to the view screen, swearing quietly to himself. "Sir?" T'val from tactical inquired. Laforge turned, shaking his head. Shelby shared his concern, she stared straight ahead, toward the dark, bleak planet below. Brilliant flashes of lighting flashed along the surface. Dark masses of cloud engulfed the surface obscuring the rocky surface below. "Activate the cloak lieutenant." The vulcan's head turned less than a quarter of an inch to the left, indicating great confusion, or perhaps, more appropriately for a Vulcan, the reaction to an illogical request. With the Prometheus clocked, any survivors on the surface who had managed to salvage scanning equipment from the wreckage of the Dominion convoy vessel would not be able to detect them. Regardless, T'val did as he was told. "Cloak activated Captain." The Vulcan intoned from tactical. LaForge nodded toward the view screen, and returned to his seat. He noted with concern the tension he saw in his bridge crew. All except for T'val. The Captain assumed that the feeling was there, somewhere, if he ever cared to dig deep enough to find it. Right now however, he had larger issues then an uptight tactical officer. "Scan for life signs." The words stuck in his throat, now that the time had come to say them. Zero hour. Admiral Picard was alive, or he wasn't. It was time to find out. Katana'clan reached the caves of the shale mountain and fell into it's tight opening. Blood ran from his mouth, plasma exploded behind him. Admiral Jean Luc Picard turned from the ad hoc transporter pad at his side at a speed that belied his age. "Katana'clan!" The frail human was at his side in a moment, it's soft pink hands feeling along the ridges of the Jem'hadar's head, feeling for a pulse. He could feel the human's eyes boring into the gaping hole in his back. Plasma rifle damage that no amount of white could silence in time. "Picard....go now." With that, Katan'clan was dead. Picard was suddenly very aware that the firing had stopped. Hirognen. The Hirogen were outside of the cave, and the Admiral had no delusion as to what they would do if they caught him here. He placed a parting hand on the fallen Jem'hadar, a brave man, and a good star fleet officer. Then, very slowly, he backed into the cave. His feet met the flat plastic of the transporter pad, very out of place in this cave, and he spoke to the computer, not knowing whether he should expect a reply. As two eight foot Hirogen entered the cave, their long curved blades at the ready, stepping over the body of Commander Katana'clan, Picard dissipeared in a shower of blue light. "Captain, I'm detecting a subspace signature." T'val called out, his face a solid wall of utter detachment. Nevertheless the import of what he was saying was not lost on Laforge. "A federation transporter signal." Laforge was in action at once. "All right people, this is it." He was behind T'val at tacticle in an instant, his hand clapping down the stoic Vulcan. "I want that signal traced, and I want to know where the Captain is, now!" "Captain!" Laforge swung back to T'val, something was wrong. Very wrong. The Vulcan's left eye brow was cocked approximately a half centemeter higher than the right, his fingers pushing firmly into the console. T'val turned towards to the Captain. "Two vessels have entered the system. I have identified them as Hirogen warships." "Hirogen? Out here?" Laforge restrained himself from checking the Voyager Database himself, instead he made his way back to his command chair. "Affirmative Captain. Two Hirogen warships, bearing 321. mark 3. They are on an intercept course Captain, presumably toward the planet." Laforge let out a long sigh, weighing his options. "Have they seen us?" "I do not belive so, sir. However, there is a chance that they have detected the transport presumably made by Admiral Picard." Laforge scoffed, shook his head and stood again. "No, not from that range." He turned towards his communications officer, lieutenent Tony Reed. "lieutenent, are they making any communications that you can detect?" Leutinent Reed did not need to check his readings again, he had been diligenetly monitoring the situation. "Negative sir. No communication whatsoever. They're running silent." "Here I was expecting to face the Borg after all these years." Captain Shelby spoke up from the commander's chair. Laforge regarded her with a mixture of repulsion and amusement. "One at at a time Elizabeth." Laforge said. Captain Shelby smiled. Laforge nodded toward leutinent Reed. "Let's see them." Reed made a few deft movements across the holographic control interface and the ships came in view. They were huge, easily dwarfing the Prometheus. Long and cylindrical, they looked more like the plasma rifles that the Hirogin sported then space fearing vessels. The entire bridge crew watched in silence as the vessels passed by. "Laforge to transporter room one, I need a lock on Admiral Picard, and I need it now." "Impossible Captain, through this much interferance. I have a lock on Commander Katana'clan's combadge, but not Admiral Picards. I can tell that the Admiral is not in the immediate area, but that's all. " The crisp Bolian transporter officer's voice was laced with regret. Captain Laforge considered a moment. "Allright then, Ensign Torbun, beam Commander Kata'clan directly to the situation room." Laforge walked to the ready room without looking back at his bridge crew. He tapped his com badge once. "Senior officers to the situation room now." The smoldering body of his first officer met him on the other side, his dark crimson blood soaking into the carpet.