From: Shawn _ (alamo_nate_at_yahoo.com)
Date: Tue Dec 11 2007 - 11:15:25 PST
=Invisible Enemy=
(cont'd from "Fresh Air")
LOCATION: GATEWAY Station
SCENE: Ruined corridor
STARDATE:
The Jem'Hadar First evaluated his situation.
The Dominion had left, leaving him and his team stranded behind enemy lines. Most of the Jem'Hadar strike teams had been mopped up by Starfleet security, or by the Federation Marines who had arrived with the GATEWAY's reinforcements. The First and his team had lost contact with the surviving Jem'Hadar strike-teams, so the First could only assume that he and his team were the last ones.
"First," a gruff voice grumbled from behind him. The First turned, seeing the Second coming up behind him.
"Second," the First replied, his voice equally gruff, but also tinged with impatience. "What have you discovered?"
"They appear to be evacuating the wounded civilians," the Second reported. "Most of the Federation forces appear to be concentrated in the Operations Module. There are combined teams of marines and Starfleet security making a sweep of the rest of the station, but given the size of GATEWAY, it will take them some time."
The First nodded. "How many of our brothers did you find?"
"Three," the Second reported. "That puts our strength up to twelve Jem'Hadar."
"It is enough," the First nodded with a smile. "12 Jem'Hadar are more than a match for these pitiful Federation dogs."
"There is something else, First," the Second reported. "They have captured our Vorta commander."
The First shot a glance over his shoulder at the second. His concern for the Vorta's safety was both genetically-programmed and, ultimately, quite practical- the Vorta held the ketrocil-white drug that kept the Jem'Hadar going. Without a steady supply of the ketrocil-white, the Jem'Hadar were doomed to die.
Of course, Vorta were also cowardly, deceptive, and supremely arrogant. The Jem'Hadar First, despite his genetics, wished he could simply allow the Vorta fool to suffer the death he had coming to it. But, of course, his genes simply wouldn't allow it.
"We must recapture the Vorta," the First said. "Engage your camouflage."
The assembled Jem'Hadar each moved to activate their active-camo, but a sudden voice halted them.
"Wait."
Every Jem'Hadar spun, weapon leveled and ready to blow apart anyone who stood before them. However, the fact that the creature standing before them was but one, lone, smiling Bajoran, was enough to give them pause.
"You are a fool," the Jem'Hadar First said, raising his weapon and preparing to fire.
In that instant, the Bajoran's smile faded along with the rest of the features on his face. His clothes seemed to melt away, his hair shrank backward into his head, until where the Bajoran once stood was now a humanoid-shaped pillar of pulsing liquid.
The Jem'Hadar realized their mistake at once, and lowered their weapons quickly, bowing their heads in reverence to their god.
"Founder," the First said. "My apologies. Shall I terminate my life in payment for this mistake?"
"Normally, I would have killed you myself," the changeling replied. "However, this is a special situation."
"What would you have us do?" the First asked.
"It is only a matter of time before the Dominion returns," the changeling said. "Your lives are expendable, but mine is not. You must secure a way off the station for me when the Dominion returns. If I remain aboard, I will be discovered or destroyed."
"Of course, Founder," the First nodded. "It will be done."
"Good," the changeling hissed. Then, slowly, it seemed to melt away into the floor, until the First and his team couldn't see it anymore. The First briefly considered how much more effective the changeling's camouflage- the ability to transform into just about any object, big or small- was, compared to the Jem'Hadar's active-camo stealth units. Of course, the power of shapeshifting was a power that only the gods could wield, and the First was more than happy with his stealth-unit.
Together, the Jem'Hadar activated their active-camo, fading from sight.
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SCENE: Main Engineering
Crichton's ribs were feeling better. They were still a little stiff, so it was hard for him to suck in a really deep breath without them aching, but other than that they felt fine. Dr. Davidson- Daisy- had told him that they'd feel as good as new after a couple of hours, and Crichton was pleased that the discomfort in his rib cage *did* seem to be fading.
Main Engineering was a mess. The huge, multi-layered room was covered in wreckage. Some of it was support trusses from upper tiers, some of it was broken or exploded consoles. Loose wires and conduit-cables hung from overhead like jungle vines, some of them still sparking and hissing electricity, refusing to die.
Worse yet were the bodies. Not all of the Engineering staff had escaped Main Engineering before the Dominion's bombardment, and the bodies of the dead lay scattered here and there. Every so often, Crichton saw one he recognized, and a shudder went down his spine- that overwhelming, giddy feeling of still being alive had been replaced by a heavy sadness in the back of his mind at how many lives had been lost. But Crichton pushed this sadness away, didn't let it show. There wasn't any time for that now.
If his job was simply to return Main Engineering to working order, Crichton wouldn't have known where to start. But luckily, his only concern now was restoring power to as much of the station as possible. He set down his toolkit, rolled up the sleeves of his uniform and set to work. It was eerie, being alone in Man Engineering, which usually was bustling with as much (if not more) activity than the Promenade. Now, except for the sparking of wires, it was silent.
So when Crichton, wedged up underneath a console and doing his best to rebuild a broken relay-conduit, felt something bump up against his leg, he sat up quickly, forgetting that he was underneath a console. His head cracked against the console, causing Crichton to cry out in pain. He struggled out from under the console, rubbing his head, and looked around.
Staring down at him was a young woman- she looked to be even younger than Crichton, which struck Crichton as odd, given his own age- with curly red hair and emerald eyes, wearing the uniform of a Starfleet Engineer. She seemed concerned by the way Crichton was holding his forehead.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
"Yeah," Crichton grumbled, getting to his feet. "Just bumped my head. You scared the hell out of me, you know."
"Sorry," she grinned. Crichton forgave her instantly- it was hard to stay mad at someone so... cute.
"Don't worry about it," he said, smiling back. "Jake Crichton."
"Eugenie LaGrande," she smiled back. "Ginny."
"Call me Jake," Crichton said, smiling back. The two stood for a moment, awkwardly, before Crichton spoke again. "So, umm... what are you doing here?"
"Maverick asked if I could give you a hand," Ginny said, looking around at the wreck that used to be Main Engineering. "Looks like you could use one."
"What, is he checking up on me now?" Crichton asked. He didn't particularly like the way the marine, Maverick, had just beamed in and taken over the station. He wondered how well Lt. Kor and Maverick were getting along, given the tension between the two at their first meeting.
"I think he just wants this place in working order as quickly as possible," Ginny shrugged. "Where do you need me?"
"Start here," Crichton said, pointing towards another ruined console. "The first step is getting all the relay-conduits reconnected. After that, we'll..."
"...we'll have to restart the station's power core," Ginny finished for him. "Once the new charge goes through the conduits, we'll know which systems we'll have to effect more repairs on, based on whether or not they come back online."
"Uhm, yeah," Crichton nodded. "Exactly."
"This isn't my first time," Ginny grinned. "No time like the present, right?"
She moved to the conduit. Crichton watched her go for a moment, then smiled.
"A pleasure to meet you, Ensign LaGrande," he said.
=============================================================
NRPG: The changeling who was masquerading as Auran Rylar is still aboard, and in hiding. In addition, we've got a team of cloaked Jem'Hadar still on station. They're going to want their Vorta back, as well as a way for the changeling to escape the station.
Whomever on the PATRIOT's crew writes for Eugenie LaGrande: Hope I did okay with her! Crichton's got a thing for redheads. ;-)
Shawn
a.k.a.
Jake Crichton, Ensign
Assistant Chief of Engineering
GATEWAY Station, GS-2
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This archive was generated by hypermail 2.1.5 : Sun Feb 17 2008 - 03:10:48 PST