Talia Ohnari

Anyone check the local distilleries...? No...? Ok....

Challenge accepted.

This just keeps getting better and better. Fai's assessment of Kelly's appearance:

That we know of...

::He might've smiled at the careful way they had danced around saying that he looked like re-constituted targ-crap, but all he managed was a slight furrowing of his brow. :: Re-constituted Targ crap. Classic.

Please let this continue forever....

Well said.

Taybrim: Yes, there is more. Doctor Ezo, according to the Raskor rumor mill, is an incompetent surgeon who uses fiery bluster to cover up her lack of medical skills; He's onto me!!! 😮

Noted....

Lt. Antero Flynn - In Like Flynn

Yeah...he kinda does....

Good luck Zel...

::He finally let out the breath he had been holding, a sigh of frustration and pent up aggression. Sal was not a violent man, but he admitted to having lucid fantasies of punching Allan Kinney square in the jaw.:: Oh please let this be a thing....

Tatash: She got you too huh? I'm beginning to wonder if she finds us easier to deal with asleep. Duh.

Phrik: ::Muttering:: Provided she keeps her hyposprays to herself. ::He paused, Phrik was still somewhat bitter about spending the return trip under sedation.:: Thank you Captain, I’m glad to be here. ::His PADD sudenly chimed twice and the Doctor let out a low sigh.:: Apologies Captain, if you’ll excuse me, I have patients to attend to. ::With that the sleep deprived Doctor turned to head towards the door:: No promises.

((Conference room - IKS S’Tarahk)) ::Dempok sat, hands gripping the side of his chair as he watched General Crang pick apart the tactical report on one side of the viewscreen. On the other half was an ashen faced looking Romulan carrying out the same task. Toval, that was his name, Admiral of the 9th Republic Fleet and the only one that had offered any sort of communication when the intelligence had been passed on. Captain Taybrim stood behind him, while he'd wanted to change into something smarter than his scorched uniform Dempok had insisted that he hadn't. Both these military hotheads needed to see the toil and hardship with their own eyes, etched into the very fibres he was wearing:: Crang: Arrhimen is dead, the Sienov is destroyed. Good. Toval: Loss of life is always regret... Crang: Don't even try to offer your condolences, Romulan. If it wasn't for your inept security this would never have happened! ::The Romulans visage became the very model of indignant, while Crang spat rage in his usual blowhard manner. It was somehow expected, even with the threat neutralised the stink of blood was in the air:: Toval: We came here under a flag of truce, we will not tolerate such insults. Crang: I still smell Romulan trickery at work. ::Dempok ground his teeth in his mouth, before rising up in his chair:: Dempok: Then don't take it from us, Crang. Take it from him. ::he thumbed towards Sal:: The Federation lost two ships, hundreds of crewmembers trying to protect us both. The Avalon was destroyed, the Albion was destroyed, yet they are not sat here trading insults like petty children! ::There was a pause, a lull in conversation before Toval spoke:: Toval: I would hear the Captain speak, the Republic had nothing to do with this abhorrent set of attacks. ::Sal Taybrim drew in a long breath, taking in the expressions of those speaking. Tempers were high, but not yet flaring and he was trying to balance a diplomatic tone towards Toval with the honesty that was necessary to keep the respect of the Klingon representatives around the table.:: Taybrim: This is the intelligence I know upon the matter. ::he paused and spoke clearly.:: Haz Arrhimen was a Federation criminal and former Starfleet officer. Incited to act by a terrorist act by the Raalaram Ocala on the Federation ship SS Annabelle’s Lament Arrhimen hijacked a Starfleet vessel the USS Stormcrow and announced his plan to release a biological weapon onto the Romulan Valdis colony. The USS Albion, commanded by myself was the response ship. We met with the USS Tribal to engage the Stormcrow. Long story short, the Tribal was badly damaged, the Stormcrow was destroyed and Arrhimen was taken into custody. An unidentified Romulan Warbird decloaked after the Stormcrow was destroyed and the Valdis colony’s safety was ensured as the damaged Albion was leaving the area. No communication nor aggression occurred between the warbird and the Albion, but Haz Arrhimen was beamed directly off the Albion through our badly damaged shielding. ::He paused and let that sink in. The fact that the warbird that arrived did not identify themselves was meaningful. While the Romulans were seen as sneaky by other powers in the quadrant this was largely something that was hung on them by the actions of the minority. A Romulan Military warbird would have hailed and identified itself. Meaning whatever vessel had appeared was almost certainly controlled by the Tal’Shiar instead of the military…:: Crang: So the Romulans kidnapped a confirmed war criminal and what, let him run amuck once more? ::Toval seemed to be drawn to the green PADD handed to him by another officer, scanning through the details:: Toval: It was not a naval ship that took Arrhimen, the reforged Republic has a strong non-aggression treaty with the Federation. Crang: But still, a Warbird took him. Did you try and stop them? ::Crang’s tone had at least changed from purely accusatory to investigative, his ridged brow furrowed as he tried to piece it all together. Dempok knew that behind that ego was a surprisingly shrewd tactician.:: Taybrim: We were in no condition to protest - nor did we have a choice. The warbird re-cloaked and the Albion was allowed to return to Federation space without incident with the remaining survivors of Haz Arrhimen’s crew who remain in Federation custody to this day. There is no further mention of Haz Arrhimen in our intelligence until stardate 239306.14 - over eight months after the destruction of the Stormcrow. Arrhimen attacked the civilian salvage yard on Halgar VII killing seven civilians including the Romulan quartermaster. He stole, with the aid of several Orion Syndicate criminals the Romluan freighter Mohtiri. We believe this is the ship he used to get close enough to board and capture the Sienov. Toval: It was highly likely he was captured by rogue elements looking to facilitate exactly the sort of conflict we’re trying now to prevent. ::Crang snorted derisively:: Crang: ‘Rogue elements’, call them what they are Toval. Once more you’ve failed to keep a leash on the Tal Shiar… ::Another face appeared in the corner of the screen, prompting Dempok to stand up from his chair like someone had delivered an electrical current through the underside of it, the bearded face of the Chancellor regarding everyone with a disapproving glare. Even Toval stayed respectfully silent:: Dempok: ::lowly:: It seems he got my field report. ::It seemed he did. Sal stood as well, mimicking the posture of the others, different and yet respectful all at the same time. When he spoke he offered a single tip of his head.:: Taybrim: Chancellor J’mpok, we are honored by your presence. Crang: Chancellor… this is unexpected. Chacellor J’mpok: Is it? A war brewing on my Empires doorstep wouldn’t draw my attention? I have received your full report Dempok, the matter has been resolved. This continued posturing is achieving nothing. ::he paused:: I have consulted with the Romulan senate regarding these events and we have reached an accord. Dempok: An accord, Chancellor? ::Sal held his breath. This could either be very good news - or very bad news. Judging from J’mpok’s tone and the fact that the Romulan end of the communication hadn’t been suddenly cut he was expecting - or maybe hoping - for good news.:: Chacellor J’mpok: The Senate has agreed to pay reparations for our colonies and provide raw materials for their reconstruction. Considering the hardship they are facing and their already scarce resources, it is an honourable and genuine offer of remorse. Although in return, Crang, you are to assist the Admiral here with flushing out and destroying the last remnants of the blasted and dishonorable Tal Shiar, for both our empires security. ::Dempok fought hard to fight back a grin as the two Military officers on the screen physically balked at the idea, two hotheads being forced to work hand in hand for the betterment of relations.:: Toval: It appears I am being contacted by the Praetor. ::he frowned, someone speaking to him from off screen:: General Crang, it seems we will be working together. I am moving my fleet away from the border to await further instruction. ::Toval dropped from the call leaving Crang biting his tongue hard enough that it looked about ready to fall out of his mouth, smoldering eyes burning into the rest of the conference:: Crang: As you command, Chancellor. We will withdraw. ::He too disappeared from the call, leaving just the large looming face of the leader of the Klingon Empire regarding Sal with a curious gaze:: Chacellor J’mpok: You are the Captain who fought and lost with us? ::Sal turned, facing the Chancellor with an even, open gaze. He had quelled his internal pleasure at watching the fruitful manipulations of two arrogant commanders into doing what was best for both empires.:: Taybrim: I am. ::a nod of assent:: Captain Sal Taybrim of the former USS Albion. Chacellor J’mpok: You fought hard and honourably beside your Klingon allies, and let us deliver a well deserved justice. This is not a debt owed that I nor the council will forget. Taybrim: ::he spoke simply, with an even conviction. The magnitude of this praise was not lost on him, so his words were careful and focused. ::We were proud to fight beside our allies, thank you Chancellor. ::The chancellor left the screen with an approving nod, leaving the bridge even more hushed then usual:: Dempok: Friends in high places indeed, Captain. Taybrim: Indeed, Councilor. ::He nodded, turning slowly towards Dempok.:: I believe this is a most beneficial outcome. ::In fact it was one of the best possible outcomes.:: Dempok: It is. Contrary to how people like Crang and every Warrior that wants to ascend to his place acts, we do not wish war on our people. We will fight it, to the last if provoked, but it is never desired. Taybrim: ::Sal broke his strictly controlled diplomatic stance to offer Dempok a more personal smile. Still formal, but this time there was more of a connection between the remaining speakers.:: On a more personal note, Councilor, thank you. I am glad my crew is still breathing and able to take to the stars once again. And I am honored that this victory came with an ally at our side. ::Dempok paused for a second, reaching into his belt to unsheath the wicked looking D’k tahg from his belt which let out a click as it’s crossguard sprang free. There was a pause, before he turned the dagger hilt-outwards:: Dempok: Take this, Captain. Let it always be a reminder of this battle, more so than the wounds and scars your crew has endured. May it serve you in many more victories to come. ::He accepted without hesitation.:: Taybrim: I am honored, Councilor. I will never forget this battle, the lives lost on both sides and the burning victory forged in sacrifice. May we both live on in honor. ~*~ A JP by: MSNPC Councilor Dempok By Major. Tatash Marine Lead SB118 Operations C239108T10 And Captain Sal Taybrim Commanding Officer StarBase 118 Ops

Some of the words that were discernable from the translator included: 'she is as fiesty as your mate, Krang!' and 'I would read her love poetry if she would bite me...'Sal's gaze flickered towards Mirra, and back at the group.::Taybrim: It seems, doctor, you may have unwittingly won an admirer... Did I just become a Klingon's wife...? Drat.

No. No they do not.

I will now be requiring these as payment every time I fix someone. How sweet! Tatash is gonna love that sweeping romantic gesture.

((Bridge - USS Albion)) ::Power flickered back to the computer console with an electronic groan. Like the battered crew of the Albion, the computer systems were equally unwilling to respond. Fortunately this was a low power profile program; flashing up as a simple text message on the screen. Sal took a step back, standing side by side with Antero and Theo. The three of them together; ready to do the thing a Starfleet captain hopes to never have to do. He glanced at both of them, gave a dry swallow and spoke up.:: Taybrim: Computer, this is Captain Sal Taybrim, requesting security access ::The computer beeped a simple acknowledgement:: Taybrim: Computer… ::He paused feeling the breath in his throat choke a little as he uttered the legendary code. It had changed for newer ships, but the Albion was from a bygone era and her final order retained the classic sequence:: Destruct sequence one. Code one, one A. ::The words flashed up on the screen in simple text. Sal looked towards Theo meaningfully. He could feel the emotions welling up from the engineer as he was set to do the thing that was most anathema to an engineer: destroy the ship that he fought so hard to protect.:: :: Putting aside the conflicting feelings swirling around in his mind, Theo spoke in an even tone. :: Whittaker: Computer this is Lieutenant Commander Theo Whittaker, Executive Office. Destruct sequence two. Code one, one A, two B. ::Again the computer flashed the code up as simple stark text.:: ::Eyes on him, Antero swallowed hard and offered the two men a solemn nod. He placed a hand on a nearby console, a small goodbye. The Albion had been good to them, and to say that he had not grown attached to the old girl would be a lie..:: Flynn: ::His voice hollow:: Computer., This is Lieutenant Antero Flynn, Chief Helm Officer. Destruct sequence three. Code one B, two B, three... ::The computer acknowledged immediately as three little words popped up on the display. Destruct Sequence Engaged.:: Computer: ::The voice was faint, and yet it cut through the darkness with a terrible pitch:: Destruct sequence completed and engaged. Awaiting final code for one minute countdown. ::Sal closed his eyes momentarily and spoke with a deep heavy-hearted confidence:: Taybrim: Code zero… zero… zero… destruct… ::One last breath. There was no going back from here:: ...zero. Computer: Destruct sequence is activated. Whittaker: Well…. there we go. :: looking around the darkened bridge…. What was left of it. :: Goodbye, ship. ::Sal moved towards the command chair and put his hand on the back. There was enough time for a few moments of sentiment, before the transporter beam would whisk them away. He looked up for a few long seconds. If he had to destroy a ship, at least she fell saving thousands of lives, preventing war and saving a quadrant. And at least she was sent off by two of the finest officers Sal ever had the pleasure of serving with.:: Taybrim: I will miss the old girl. ::He offered as the computer started a quiet countdown.:: Flynn: ::His voice calm, solemn.:: She was true to the end, wasn’t she? Taybrim: She was. ::He offered a silent nod of agreement. HIs next words were quiet, hoarse:: Good bye, old girl. Whittaker: :: quietly, looking at Flynn and Taybrim :: I’ll see you on the other side. ((Observation port - S’Tarahk)) ::The transporter took them just as the last goodbye was uttered. There were placed by one of the observation ports, looking out as the seconds ticked down and the Albion was consumed in a controlled explosion, turning from charred steel to brilliantly burning gold.:: Taybrim: I’ll recommend to Starfleet that they honor her name. Maybe someday the Albion-A will fly back to StarBase 118. ::He mused, watching her crumble to ashes in the backdrop of the flaming nebula.:: Flynn: The Albion-A ::He smiled softly at the thought.:: As soon as they’re ready to trust us with another one. Whittaker :: wryly :: If they ever trust us. :: he looked to Taybrim, uncertainty clouding his eyes :: What now? ::A curious question - what ship would Starfleet send them, if any? StarBase 118 still had the Aegis, and there were plenty of ships in the sector that could serve if needed. Would they commission another ship to fill the gap?:: Taybrim: ::With a darkened humor:: With our luck we’ll get a freighter… Whittaker: :: Or a garbage scow. Taybrim: I’ll remember that. ::His buoyant humor faltered and he paused for a moment, saying nothing. He lay a hand on his officer’s shoulders - a silent show of support as the massive Klingon cruiser moved off into the black.:: ::Who knew was the future would bring?:: ~*~ A JP by: Lieutenant Antero Flynn Chief Helm Officer Starbase 118 Ops C239205AF0 And Lieutenant Commander Theo Whittaker Executive Officer Starbase 118 Operations C239203TW0 And Captain Sal Taybrim Commanding Officer StarBase 118 Ops E239010ST0

((USS Albion - Deck 18 - Main Shuttlebay 2)) ::Tyler and Mirra had found a moment of respite from what had been a day from hell. They both knew it was fleeting, as the battle was far from over. It always surprised him how just a few minutes with her could undo hours of stress and hardship and "reset" his mental state. Today, more than most, it was a very necessary thing.:: Kelly: I need to get back in the fight...::He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.:: But I promise, as soon as this is over, I'll find you. ::He paused.:: I love you, Mirra. ::He had gone with the more subtle peck on the cheek, not wanting to embarrass her as she went about her chiefly duties, but Mirra had other plans. She pulled him close and brought him into a longer, more passionate kiss. Like always, it sent waves of contentment and positivity radiating throughout his body.:: Ezo: ::releasing him:: I love you too. And you better come find me. Or I'll hunt you down. ::smirking:: Apparently I am quite scary...::grinning:: ::He leaned in conspiratorially, with a smirk.:: Kelly: Oh, yeah? ::He raised an eyebrow.:: I'll take my chances, I don't mind a little necessary roughness. ::She fixed him a with a [...] scowl and shooed him away playfully.:: Ezo: Yeah, yeah. Point taken. Don't you have a bad guy to hunt or something? ::At first her words brought a smile to his face, but gradually his expression hardened. The brief glimmer of happiness and hope had been a welcome respite from the reality of their situation, but they were still in dire straits.:: Kelly: Yeah, I d- ::His comm badge chirped, cutting him off mid-sentence.:: Taelon: =/\= Commander Kelly? =/\= ::He shrugged his shoulders and pointed at his badge in the universal "Sorry, but I've got to take this call" gesture and moved away.:: Kelly: =/\= Go for Kelly.=/\= ::The voice on the other end of the line sounded excited, maybe a little worried.:: Taelon: =/\= This is Ens - Lieutenant Taelon. I understand you’ve just come back but we need your help in the deck 15 weapons control room as soon as possible - can you make it there? =/\= ::He nodded as he spoke, despite the fact that Taleon couldn't see it. He began moving towards the Deck 15 at a jog.:: Kelly: =/\= I'm on my way. ::Beat:: What's going on?=/\= Taelon: =/\= The plan is to rig several torpedoes with a combination of their antimatter load and tri-cobalt and then detonate them at a careful point in the nebula, which should ignite it. But it seems the control teams are over taxed. Can you supervise? I’ve sent the needed schematics to the team on deck 15. ::He paused.:: We don’t have much time, b-but if you’ve any ideas for improvement on the layout, it’d be appreciated… =/\= ::Tyler's eyes went a bit wide at Taleon's explanation. He had gained extensive experience with conventional explosives throughout his career, he had even managed to become certified in Explosive Ordinace Disposal (E.O.D.), but this sounded anything but conventional. What he was describing would be some kind of anti-matter/nuclear fission hybrid explosion, Tyler could only guess at the magnitude but he knew it would be devastating.:: Kelly: =/\= I.. uh.. ::He stammered a little, flustered by the idea of what they were attempting.:: I'll see what I can do.:: ::He began running faster, wanting to get involved as soon as possible.:: Taelon: =/\= Thank you, Commander. The Captain wants this done as fast as possible...if possible…we’re really no longer than 5 minutes til deployment. =/\= ::Tyler's jaw would've dropped it wasn't huffing and puffing a bit as he ran to the control room at full speed. It was clear that Captain Taybrim wanted the Sienov gone, no matter the cost.:: Kelly:=/\= Understood. Kelly out.=/\= ((USS ALBION - DECK 15 - Torpedo Control Room)) ::Tyler had arrived at the control room, just before they closed the final panels on each of the modified torpedoes. Everyone was in a rush, weapons officers shouted status updates back and forth as the technicians tried frantically to calibrate the final settings on the monstrous weapons. He basically only had time to view Taleon's schematics and confirm that the Torpedoes matched what he was looking at. As he was staring down at one of the monstrously destructive devices, he felt a slight chill run down his spine. He wanted Arrhimen dead. Irrefutably, irrevocably, irrecoverably dead. And these torpedoes looked like they would do the job. The trouble was, even if the wounded Albion turned to limp away at best possible speed after launching, there was an uncomfortably high probability they'd take catastrophic damage as well. Images of the Avalon's frozen corpses came to his mind, of Tatash's destroyed fighter, of the destroyed colonies where Klingon civilians, families, children... had all lived. Arrhimen had killed all of them and would go on to kill countless more. He cleared his throat, fortifying his resolve for what might be the final time. He turned to the lead technician.:: Kelly: All clear, Crewman. ::He pointed to the torpedoes.:: Button them up and get them armed and loaded in the tubes. ::The technicians seemed a bit dazed. They began to slowly carefully lift the torpedo onto the rack. They knew what they were doing would have incredibly destructive results and Tyler could see that they were worried. He decided to offer a few choice words of encouragement.:: Kelly: QUICKLY! ::He smacked one of the torpedoes hard on it's casing resulting in a loud clang.:: As long as you built them right, and you better have, they won't go off accidentally! The Captain ordered us to be ready in five minutes and that was 4.5 minutes ago! ::He helped them heft the last torpedo onto the firing rack.:: See, that wasn't that hard. Taybrim: =/\= Kelly are you reading us? We need a good clean shot into the nebula to ignite it. This is all on you and Diego now...=/\=Beyett: =/\= ? ::A solemn look the weapons crewman nearby.:: Kelly: =/\= Understood. ::He pointed to the weapons officer, and motioned for him to get out of his chair, before planting himself in it.:: We're locked and loaded down here, awaiting your command. ::Tyler quickly tapped out the command that opened a full time two-way comm-link with the bridge.Taybrim: ::He felt the need to give one last reminder. His voice was calm, commanding, like a rock one could lean on.:: =/\=Captain to crew. In less than a minute we will ignite the nebula. There is no way we'll outrun the shockwave. We're in the best position to endure it - but I want you all to secure yourselves for impact. Decks 10-19 have thirty seconds to complete evacuation. Make your preparations.=/\= ::A momentary silence fell over the weapons room. They all knew they were on Deck 15, right in the middle of the decks to be evacuated, but they also knew they had a critical job to do. Tyler, understood exactly why those specific decks were being evacuated. They were going to reduce the shields coverage area to just the saucer. With a smaller coverage area, they could substantially increase the power of the shields. That, of course, meant the rest of the ship, including the deathly silent Torpedo control room on Deck 15 would be completely unshielded. It didn't matter. Arrhimen had to be stopped. The non-standard nature of the cobbled together torpedoes meant that someone had to be here to oversee the launch. Tyler kept his eyes on the display in front of him, ready to work his side of the torpedo launch at any second.:: Kelly: You heard the Captain! Get out of here, now! ::Several of the crewman and weapons officers immediately bolted, wasting no time in saving their own skins. The officer who was supposed to be on duty at the moment, an Andorian Lieutenant whose station Tyler was sitting in now, hesitated a moment. Tyler's eyes drifted up to a small holo-frame sitting on top of the console, showing an image of a female Andorian cradling a tiny antennaed baby with a warm smile on her face. The Lieutenant's voice broke the silence.:: Chiron: I'm... on duty..Sir. Protocol says that I cannot leave without relief.... ::Tyler snatched up the picture frame, and handed it back to Chiron. He glanced back momentarily at the Andorian. A look of surprise played across his face.:: Kelly: You're relieved. Go! ::He grumbled, not loud enough for the man to hear as he made his escape.:: Name your next kid after me or something... ::With Chiron gone, he was completely alone. The seconds stretched into hours as Tyler waited for the order to come through from the bridge. As he sat in the deafening silence of the torpedo room, his thoughts turned to his life. All that he had accomplished and all that he had failed. He thought of his mother, of his friends, and most of all about Mirra. He hoped with all of his heart that she was safely in sickbay, and not still in the shuttlebay with Avalon survivors. Suddenly, without warning, Taybrim's voice came over the open comm line.:: Taybrim: Beyett, Kelly: Fire! ::Tyler felt all of his muscles tense as he waited for Beyett to send the launch command.::Beyett:? ::Quickly, his fingers flew over the control panel. Firing, triggering the reloading procedure, firing again.:: Kelly: Confirmed. Firing. ::The machinery behind him thumped. One Away. ::Another thump.:: Two away. ::A final thump:: Three away. ::He watched on the viewscreen as the torpedoes streaked towards the nebula, trailing burning plasma as they went. He had the unshakable feeling that he was living the end of his story, that the massive flash he was about to see would be the closing image before they rolled the credits on his short and interesting life. From somewhere deep within the nebula, the torpedoes ignited one by one. Together the emitted a massive blinding flash that Tyler knew would have instantly blinded him if it wasn't filtered through the monitor he was viewing. As if on cue, the monitor winked out, apparently overloaded by the massive amount of ultraviolet energy that bombarded it.:: Kelly: oO Well, this is it, and I'm not even in uniform. Oo ::He looked down at the EVA suit he had never changed out of after the Avalon expedition. Instantly, he realized what that meant, and he bolted for the nearest replicator. All he needed was a helmet and... He recalled the pattern for his EVA helmet, and had just retrieved it when the Albion began to shake violently. The lights dimmed, then winked out. Red lights tried to come on, but flickered unsteadily as a sad alarm Klaxxon mewled like a dying cat. He managed to get his helmet on his head and locked in place just in time to be unceremoniously thrown across the room. He crashed into one of the walls of the small room, back first, before being thrown the opposite direction and then finally crumpling to the floor like a discarded ragdoll. The emergency lights flickered and then even they were out. Tyler's shoulder felt odd, and judging by the strange way his arm was hanging, it had been dislocated. Lying on the floor, Tyler groaned audibly to himself as he felt a variety of new and exciting pains across his battered body.:: Kelly: Urrrgh....god damn...Risian fly-boy...can't hold her steady for... uggh.... nothing... ::But as beat up as he felt, he wasn't dead. The explosion had come and gone and it seemed as though the Albion was still mostly intact. A wave of relief washed across him, after being so certain that he a was going to die, he couldn't believe that he'd survived. He began to laugh a little, crazily, for no good reason, each chuckle causing his battered (broken?) ribs to hurt. Then he heard something that stopped his laughter in it's tracks.:: COMPUTER: WARP CORE BREACH IMMINENT! ::KLAXXON:: WARP CORE BREACH IMMINENT! ::The sound was coming from somwhere far away, probably from a section of the deck that still had power. Struggling, Tyler got to his feet and began to do his best approximation of a run. He limped as fast as he could, knowing full well that he couldn't outrun a warp core breach. Still, he passed a dead turbolift and entered the maintenance ladder shaft. He climbed as fast as he could up towards the shielded section with his one good arm, but it was too late. He heard the "THUNK" of the warp core being ejected followed by the horrible metal rending sound of a massive section of the Albion's aft being torn away. Tyler hooked an arm through the ladder and turned to see the bulkhead behind him begin to tear away.:: Kelly: Oh shi- ::A tool box hit him in the back, knocking the wind out of him and cutting him off mid-word. He heard the sound of the Albion's oxygen being sucked past him as the tear in the hull got bigger. His grip on the ladder loosened as all manner of debris flew past him, battering him even further on it's way out into the vacuum beyond. He felt his fingers slipping off the ladder as he leaned quickly out of the way of an oncoming console that had been ripped free from the deck beyond. He risked a quick glance at the tear that had become a massive gaping hole in the secondary hull of the Albion. Then he felt his grip fail and shot out into space like a cork out of a wine bottle.:: TBC ======//////======>LtCmdr. Tyler KellySecurity OfficerSb118 OpsO238811CD0

Are you insinuating Mirra would squeal at this?! Because she totally would/will....

Dang us wobbly two footed terrors...

Um....probably the escape pods...maybe...