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FINALLY!!! Got back to my Star Trek fic! Back in the mood now so watch this space, hope to get season 2 done asap. S2E3: Sparse Living ( Read more... )
This is a Star Wars fic I did while back. I plan to do more with the characters in the near future, so watch this space. ( Read more... )
Unlike most TV shows, you dont have to wait months for another season of my fanfic. Here we go, season 2 starts here... S2E1: No rest… ( Read more... ) Here it is, the start of my Star trek series...Captain Branagh straightened his uniform as he entered the turbolift. He wheeled around sharply as he heard a voice call from down the corridor. ‘Hold please!’ The voice shouted. He held the lift there and was delighted to see Lt. Bishop join him. He had not seen his security officer and girlfriend in over 2 weeks. ‘Nice to see you again Lieutenant. Deck 10’ The doors of the lift softly closed and the pair embraced each other. The kiss from his lover felt like a rejuvenation. He had missed her deeply when he was away, and she felt the same way. They broke off their kiss and smartened their uniforms. ‘Nice to see you too Captain’ the young woman smiled as they turned to face the lift door. They entered the transporter room, only occupied by the chief and some yet unmoved cargo containers, put out of the way to let people on and off the transporter pad. ‘The party is ready to come aboard sir’ the chief stated. ‘Beam them over Mr Smith’ The chief tapped some panels then slid his fingers slowly up the energiser panel. Six figures began to emerge, glistening with silver and blue sparkles and streaks, then finally taking on normal humanoid forms. The Captain could see a Bolian, a Ferengi and several humans. He could also make out a very familiar Trill standing at the front of the pad. The transporter sequence finished and the crewmembers stood to attention. ‘Welcome aboard, I am Captain Branagh and this is my Chief of security Lt. Bishop. Im sure you all have duties to attend to so please make your way to your heads of department.’ The Captain said very formally. ‘Ensign Perim could you wait here please’ The rest of the transfers filled out into the corridor. Ensign Kell Perim, a very beautiful young Trill woman approached the officers. ‘Welcome back Kell’ Lt. Bishop said extending a hand. The Captain followed suit and began his inquisition. ‘So, you asked to transfer off of the ‘Yes it must be, but there isn’t anywhere I’d rather be’ ‘Well I know you have other duties but we are getting underway soon, and I know you would rather be at the helm to take us out’ ‘You know me all too well sir’ She responded with a smile. ‘Well then you know where the bridge is. Lt. Bishop can go with you. I’d like all the senior officers on the bridge for this.’ With that the two officers left the transporter room and headed for the turbolift. Captain Branagh remained behind and turned to the Chief. ‘Chief Smith, I trust you wont leave those crates there much longer, someone could have a nasty fall’ He joked. ‘Ill get on it right away sir’ Said the young officer. ‘Good to have you back aboard sir’ ‘Its good to be back chief’ Chief Richard Smith busied himself with the crates, calling one of his team to come and help. Meanwhile the Captain tapped his communicator and made his first announcement. ‘Senior officers report to the bridge. All crewmembers prepare to leave space dock’. He let himself smile widely with excitement as he left for the bridge. The turbolift doors slid back to reveal Captain Branagh’s second home. The bridge was full of fresh faces all sitting at consoles, working on whatever assignments they had. The comforting beeps and whistles of the bridge welcomed the Captain back to his normal routine. The clock he had installed above the view screen showed ‘Captain, I stand relieved’ Said Lt. Alison Downing, counsellor on board the Trafalgar. ‘That’s ok Lieutenant, just checking in. We will be heading out shortly. You have the bridge until then.’ David turned to the tactical console directly behind the Captain’s seat and signalled the officer on duty. ‘Mr Ofield, send word to Starfleet that we are preparing to depart on my orders’ Lt. Ofield tapped away at the console, relaying the Captain’s message. The Captain walked down towards the view screen and headed into the door next to it. He walked through the crew lounge and straightened his jacket and comm badge. He entered the observation lounge, greeted by the smiles of his senior bridge crew. He had not seen his chief medical officer, Dr. Ian Kray since he had returned. Neither had he seen his science officer Lt. John Brightman. He was pleased to see both once more, and the rest of his team. They had been through a war together and were bound to be friends for as long as they were alive. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to the beyond.’ His officers smiled and looked at one another as the Captain sat down at the head of the table. ‘We are about to head out in a few minutes, any problems or issues, raise them now’ Commander Gerard leaned forward to speak to the group, the blue light from earth passing into the room and illuminating her brown eyes with a mysterious glow. ‘Sir, the ship and crew are ready. We are ready. Lets see what trouble we can find’ The Captain smiled at his first officer, she had learned his style of command during the years, as had the rest of the crew. ‘Right then, senior crew to the bridge’ The group all stood and walked through to the bridge. The young officers gave up their posts for the bridge crew and everyone took their places. Ensign Perim sat herself back at the helm, itching to pilot the ship into new territory. Lt. Frost sat next to her at Ops. The Captain and Commander Gerard sat at their command seats while Lt. Bishop took up the tactical position. Lt. Brightman took up his post at the science station, with Ian Kray taking the ‘Mr Frost, release docking clamps. Lt. Nasri get the warp drive fired up and ready. I want to see what she can do.’ The massive magnetic clamps on the ship hissed and detached themselves from the hull, leaving the ship hanging in space unaided for the first time in months. The warp nacelles lit up and roared to life, blood red impulse engines glowed with the power ebbing through them. Captain Branagh stood proudly on the bridge, his ship living and breathing again. ‘Ensign Perim, thrusters to full. Clear the docking station.’ The ship moved into clear space, the universe stretching before it. ‘Aim for Pluto and keep on going, full impulse Miss Perim’ The huge vessel streaked across the star field, its lights insignificant in the massive expanse of stars and planets. Particles of dust passed the ship, its course planned to the millimetre. Avoiding planets and asteroids seamlessly. Other ships flashed past, some at warp some cruising on impulse. Without the ships sensors they would all just seem like stars passing by. Captain Branagh stood soaking the whole mass of it in. He was pleased to be back with his crew, but he still felt comfortable in isolation. The walls of his ready room muted the sounds of the ship and crew. All he could hear was the low rumble of the ships engines and the classical music that filled the room. He stood against the thick glass window next to his desk. As he looked out at the wonders of the universe, he contemplated. He ran theories through his head. His mind was constantly filled with questions about what his eyes showed him. Most went unanswered. The beautiful orchestral music was abruptly broken by voice over the comm. ‘Captain, we have rendezvoused with the Hansen, Captain Sandral wishes to speak to you’ The Captain strode onto the bridge, taking his place standing with Commander Gerard before the view screen. ‘On screen Lieutenant’ The face of Captain Fredrick Sandral appeared in front of them. The half-Betazoid man was sitting in his seat, his hand resting on his bearded chin. He seemed anxious about something, his face stern and cold. ‘Captain Branagh, we have detected a distress call from the Jeroc system. A federation convoy say they are under attack’ ‘Have you tried to contact them?’ Captain Branagh asked, becoming just as concerned as the other Captain. ‘We cant reach them, their comms may be down. Their message does relay who is attacking them. Three Klingon warships.’ David’s concern turned to shock. The Klingons had been Federation allies for decades now, why would they attack an allied convoy? ‘Captain Sandral, send over the co-ordinates. We will both try to get to the bottom of this. Branagh out’ The dark haired man disappeared from the view screen. The Captain and Commander Gerard sat at their positions and took charge of the situation like only they could. ‘Ensign lay in the co-ordinates, take us there at warp 5’. Ensign Perim acknowledged his order and the ship followed the USS Hansen into warp. Stars flew past on the view screen, the other ship just visible ahead of them. ‘Take us to yellow alert Lt. Bishop. Be ready for anything.’ He turned to look at his first officer to his right. They gave each other a look of concern. They both knew the ship rarely stayed at yellow alert for long. ‘What do you make of this number one, misunderstanding?’ ‘I hope so Captain, wouldn’t like them to know what they’re doing. Would mean they broke the treaty’ The Captain turned back to the view screen. The stars slowed and a large group of ships came into view. Ensign Perim turned to him from her console. ‘At the co-ordinates now Captain. Five Federation cargo ships and one Miranda-class vessel, the USS Barell.’ ‘No sign of the Klingon vessels Captain.’ Said Lt. Bishop. The Captain furrowed his brow. ‘They’re here somewhere’ The massive Federation starships passed either side of the smaller, more ridged cargo ship. The vessel bore weapon burns and explosion damage. Several sections were exposed to the unending cold of space. As they past the other transports they could see the same damage on most of them. Three of the five had managed to escape critical damage but were still in need of help. The convoy’s escort, the USS Barell, hung in space, slanted slightly to port. It’s port nacelle scarred and venting glittering blue and purple plasma. The Hansen and the Trafalgar took up relative positions either side of the convoy line, hoping to defend it from any further attack. The crew on the bridge looked on at the damage done to the ships. Some muttered under their breathes and whispered to each other. But Captain Branagh and his senior crew remained silent. They had seen attacks like this before, and much worse. The Captain raised from his high-back seat and walked over to the Ops console where Lt. Commander Frost was sitting. ‘Scan for life signs Mr Frost, we need to get everyone we can off those ships.’ The Commander tapped away at his controls, searching for any sign that someone survived the dreadful attack. ‘Multiple contacts sir, the Gordan, Surge and Hikaru all have survivors.’ Lt. Bishop chimed in from her tactical console behind them. ‘Message from the Barell sir, no visual.’ ‘Open a channel.’ A burst of static broke the uncomfortable silence on the bridge. The static changed pitch and frequency until a voice could finally be discerned. ‘This is…tain Lobe, we…der attack fro…Klingon birds-of-pre…we requ…ssitance.’ ‘This is Captain Branagh aboard the Trafalgar, is your ship capable of impulse?’ His answer came in the form of static. No more scrambled speech or random words, just static and silence. ‘We’ve lost the channel sir, comm system must be down.’ Said Lt. Bishop. The Captain turned to his first officer and nodded. She immediately got to her feet. ‘Lieutenant Bishop and Nasri your with me.’ She walked towards the turbolift with her two officers and spoke into her comm badge. ‘Gerard to Kray. Assemble a medical team and meet us in transporter room two.’ A rough voice answered back. ‘Right away Commander.’ As his officers disappeared into the lift, the Captain sat back in his seat. His fingers drummed on the arm of his chair. He was anxious, and impatient. With their cloaking devices the Klingons could be waiting anywhere. Or nowhere. He wanted them to attack. At least then he would know what to do. If there was one good thing he could say for the war, it was that it was simple. ‘Gerard to Branagh’ Commander Gerard mild tone jerked him back to reality. ‘We are aboard. Looks like we have auxiliary power. Impulse is barely working, shields are at 20% and the weapons are clinging on to slips of power.’ The Captain allowed himself a quick laugh as he rolled his eyes. ‘See what you can do Commander, try and get her out of here.’ ‘Will do Captain, Gerard out.’ The Captain span around to the tactical station and spoke to Lt. Ofield. ‘Send to Hansen, co-ordinate relief and recovery on the other ships, make sure we…’ He was cut short by proximity alarms and the tactical officer cutting in. ‘Sir! Three Birds of prey decloaking, flanking both us and the Hansen!’ The Captain allowed himself a single thought. Shit. Three distortions appeared around the large ships. The shapes of the Klingon ships became crisp and sharp, the large wings tipped with weapons brought to bear. The Federation ships moved themselves between the Klingons and the wounded vessels. Captain Branagh ran over his options in his head. The Klingon ships were an old design, but he was still outnumbered. ‘Raise shields, power up the phaser banks and photon torpedoes!’ The lights on the bridge dimmed and the room was flooded with red light. Alarm claxons rang out and the crew braced themselves. ‘Keep us in front of the freighters. Tell them to leave the sector and keep behind us!’ The Klingon ships stopped manoeuvring and opened fire. Disruptor fire struck the ships on their fronts, the shields lighting up but stopping the shots. Streaks of phaser fire shot from the saucer sections of the federation ships. The ships once again started moving around each other, trying to find weak spots and fields of fire. Photon torpedoes flew into shields, detonating with blinding explosions. One of the Birds of prey took a heavy salvo from both sides and its shields collapsed. Lieutenant Ofield aboard the Trafalgar took full advantage and fired a torpedo, striking the wing of the Klingon ship, blowing it off. As the ship started drifting out of control the other two ships moved around behind the Hansen. The Excelsior-class vessel fired its aft phasers but missed its targets. The Klingon ships unleashed a full barrage of disruptors and torpedoes at the rear of the Hansen, taking down its shields and crippling one of the warp nacelles. Inside the Trafalgar Captain Branagh braced himself firmly into his seat, trying not to be flung across the bridge with each impact hit. ‘Mr Ofield, concentrate your fire on the ship flanking the Hansen, they are taking heavy fire!’ The officer did his duty and fired everything he had at the Klingon vessel. The sudden onslaught forced the ship to break off from the Hansen. Ensign Perim shouted above the noise of battle. ‘Sir, the remaining Klingon vessels are turning to disengage. Heading 837.134’. ‘Good, prepare to take the crippled ship in tow and board her, I want answ…’ Once again he was cut short by something unexpected. ‘Captain the Klingon ships have fired on one of the freighters. Its been destroyed sir’. David could only look on as the Klingon ships pulled away from their target at speed and cloak. They were gone. In his quarters, the Captain looked over the many reports about the battle and the repairs to the other ships. Tactical reports, engineering reports, casualty lists, after awhile it all blurred into one in Captain Branagh’s head. The report from Starfleet intelligence still stayed clear in his mind though. There was no trace of the Klingons who attacked them, no idea from either government who was behind it and why. The only piece of value was some wreckage from the destroyed Bird of Prey that identified the ship. The Klingon high command knew of the ship, but said it had been declared overdue for a rendezvous 5 weeks earlier and had been classified MIA. Without knowing if it was Klingons or the people who stole the Bird of Prey on board, a new threat to the Federation would still remain a mystery. And Captain Branagh did not like mysteries. </div></div></div></div>Hey all! |
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