Lieutenant JG T'Ama - So Anyway, I Started Blasting

[kimstapledon]

(( Bridge, Deck 3 - Primary Hull, USS Chin’toka ))

Three of Twelve (T’Ama): Computer, download and install Fleet Formation software upgrade. Authorization override: T’Ama six-four-three-five.

oO Who is T’Ama? Is that me? Oo

oO WE ARE THE BORG. YOUR DISTINCTIVENESS HAS BEEN ADDED TO OUR COLLECTIVE. Oo

A large progress bar appeared on the main view screen showing the download progress at 1%.

Sherlock: ::to McGillian:: We need to move! Now!

Serala: Computer. This is Commander Serala, Commanding Officer. Disregard order to download and initiate emergency bridge lockout procedures. Authorization Serala Sierra errr lli hwi kre ehrie. Execute.

A flicker of anger ignited in Three of Twelve. That was rude. She had just started that download and already it was thwarted. They were resisting.

oO RESISTANCE IS FUTILE. TAKE THE BRIDGE. Oo

Chaos reigned on the bridge between the assimilated and unassimilated.

Serala: Sherlock, get in. Now!

Sherlock: On my way!

McGillian: SEAL THE DOOR!!!!

The captain and other officers had retreated to the ready room. They were still resisting, but Three of Twelve knew resistance was futile. She would take the bridge from them now they had given it up.

The first problem, of course, was that all the consoles had gone dark. That would have to be fixed.

Three of Twelve (T’Ama): Computer, end emergency bridge lockout. Authorization T’Ama Epsilon seven-zero-one-four.

The bridge resolutely did not respond. Anger flickered inside her again. They were resisting.

oO RESISTANCE IS FUTILE. Oo

Three of Twelve turned away to reassess how the bridge might be retaken when the word filled with blue…

((Brig, Deck 11 - USS Chin’toka))

Three of Twelve and the rest of her unit rematerialized in a brig cell, along with the unassimilated.

Turnbull: =/\= Petty Officer Turnbull here, someone just beamed Borg into the brig. =/\=

McGillian: =/\= Turnbull, that was us from the bridge, have you managed to secure the area? =/\=

Turnbull: =/\= Were all safe here, security is locked down. =/\=

McGillian: =/\= Good job Turnbull, keep them detained. If they somehow manage to get out, your orders are to retreat, seal security, and contact me immediately. McGillian out. =/\=

The brawl had shifted and continued as the Borg had reacquired new targets.

Neshala: Somebody help me!!!

The Borg drones set upon her, delivering blows with sickening thuds.

Turnbull: Hold on! I’ll beam you out!

A few more agonizing seconds while the security officer tried to lock on to Neshala’s signal before she was whisked, bloody and bruised, out of the fight to in front of the cells.

Turnbull: Are you okay?!

Neshala: response

Three of Twelve watched this unfold, on the surface dispassionately, but underneath roiling with anger.

oO The bridge has fallen. Oo

oO ELIMINATE THE UNASSIMILATED. Oo

oO Or perhaps we should escape the brig? Oo

She challenged the thousands of unified voices speaking in her brain. She was better than being wasted punching the unassimilated to death. The Collective was quiet for a moment before a new directive was handed down to her.

oO ESCAPE THE BRIG. Oo

She dialed the setting of the type 2 phaser they had so foolishly beamed her into the cell with all the way up past level 8, which would vaporize a person, to the levels that would destroy walls. She aimed it at the edge of the door frame, where the force field emitters were and fired.

The wall between the two brig cells and their associated doorways both exploded and vaporized leaving a gaping, steaming hole and ruining two of the brig cells. The force fields fell, and so did Turnbull. In the smoky, fiery aftermath he lay, terribly burned, on top of Neshala.

Neshala: response

Three of Twelve allowed herself a self-satisfied smirk before stepping over the smoking debris and leading her unit out of the brig and towards the adjacent armory. They were about to become a whole lot deadlier.

--

Lieutenant JG T'Ama

Acting Chief of Operations

USS Chin'toka

C240004T11