Serala Posted August 18 Posted August 18 Another great sim for President Chekov by @TAma: Quote (( Shuttle Bay - Primary Hull, USS Chin’toka )) His bodyguards had insisted they not exit the pod immediately and they spent several long minutes on tenterhooks peering out the windows to see if any Borg would be meeting them. But the shuttle bay seemed empty of Borg, so they finally opened the pod. As they exited their welcoming party arrived - one lone officer. Sherlock: Mister President. Anton peered at the pips on her collar. Chekov: Lieutenant Commander, it’s good to see a friendly face. Sherlock: Welcome aboard the Chin'toka. ::gesturing around the room:: You'll have to excuse the mess. We've had...a long day. He cast an eye over the officer, noting the rapidly purpling bruises on her face. It seemed that the Chin’toka hadn’t been spared. Chekov: We’ve had a bad day. A very bad day. And that was still an understatement. Sherlock: If you'll come with me, Sir. The Captain would like to meet you. This was, of course, expected. The group followed her to the turbolift, which the officer seemed intent on riding in silence. (( Bridge, Deck 3 - Primary Hull, USS Chin’toka )) The turbolift doors swished open and the officer who met them briskly rejoined the bridge. As soon as he stepped out onto the bridge of the Akira-class he was announced. Serala: Attention to orders! President on the bridge. Many of the bridge crew snapped to attention, though some of course continued to operate their consoles. Chekov: At ease, that’s quite alright. Serala: Mister President, it is an honor. I am Commander Serala, Acting Captain of the USS Chin’toka. The acting captain struck a surprising figure. She had a hint of a Romulan accent within her thicker Colombian one, and the forehead ridges to confirm it. She was also heavily pregnant, and Anton was both surprised and impressed to find her commanding a starship on today of all days. Chekov: Well it is a pleasure to meet you and your crew and to find friendly faces still in control of the ship. Serala: Forgive me, sir, but I am not a diplomat. I will just say, as I am sure you know based on your transmission, it is not going well at all. There were some rescue efforts of the Starbase, but… Bridge crewman: Oh my god! Sol Station. Sirs, Mister President. The Borg have destroyed it. Male voice transmits: =/\= Mayday! Mayday! Shields are down. =/\= Serala: On screen. An image of Sol Station appeared on the main viewscreen. Massive explosions cleaved off large sections of it, leaving them floating away serenely in space. Anton blanched at what he was witnessing. Borg Collective/Vox: =/\= The Titan has been neutralized. We are the Borg. Resistance is Futile. Eliminate all unassimilated. Target lock: Berlin. Target lock: Cairo. Target lock: Philadelphia. Target lock: Rome. Target lock: San Francisco. Target lock: Paris. Target lock: (overlapping voices). Target lock: New York. =/\= Fear struck a cold knell deep in his heart. He didn’t even know it was possible to feel worse. Perhaps his hopes had gotten up finding a ship that wasn’t overrun by Borg, but the list of targets… It was designed to kill hope, he reminded himself. Serala: With respect, Mister President, it doesn’t appear this is quite over yet. If you care to watch, you’re welcome to take the seat to my left. Chekov: I don’t care to, but I will witness it. Thank you. He sat down in the seat to her left leaving his aides to mill about him. Serala: Thank you, Mister President. :: to Sherlock :: Number One, signal the Aegis, Lieutenant Zarax, and Lieutenant Neshala. They are to fall back and rendezvous with us once we jump back in. Sherlock: Yes, Sir. Serala: Ensign Kel, plot a warp jump and put us between the fleet and Earth. Send coordinates to Commander Sherlock to be relayed to our task force. McGillian, no holds barred. We take as many of them as we can before they take us down. McGillian: Um, Captain…. Serala: Stapledon, Ilsam, we need some kind of strategic miracle here. I am about out of ideas. If either of you have any thoughts, let’s hear them. Stapledon: Aye. Serala: Mister President, the hour is critical and we can make a final stand. But if I am honest here, sir, we are not going to survive this. We’ll do what we can, but … There is one small hope, but Admiral Picard - I believe - is facing off with a Borg cube at Jupiter. It appears to be the source of the Borg signal. Whatever he’s doing, if he can stop that signal and release the Fleet Formation software, we might be able to end all of this. But it’s a tiny sliver of a hope and I can’t risk taking you back into the battle zone. He frowned. Not this crap again. Chekov: Captain, we need every single ship we have to be in this fight. Right now. Serala: With respect, Mister President, Earth is about to fall, and the Federation won’t be far behind it. We are going to need a leader to keep us together in this dark hour. And that leader, sir, is you. I have to keep you safe at all costs. If you want me to take the Chin’toka back into the battle, I will, sir. But I am going to insist you take my personal runabout – and head for Vulcan or the nearest safe harbor you can find. Chekov: With respect, captain, I will not be pushed into cutting and running in the darkest hour twice. The Federation needs to see that we will not give up. Sherlock: ::speaking calmly and level:: Captain, we need to move. McGillian: Captain… The warning tone in the crew’s voices indicated they were out of time for debating. Chekov: We are out of time for debate. I will remain, and so shall we all. Serala: response Sherlock: Very well. ::turning to their helmsman:: Ensign, plot a course to the these coordinates. ::tapping her console and sending the intended position to the helm, then turning her attention back to the Captain:: On your order, Sir. Serala: response Stapledon: Sirs. If we join the fleet control network using a custom version of that software we might be able to elevate our privileges. Direct the ships closest to us to execute specific instructions. Serala: Response Stapledon: That fleet formation is moving in segments. They're each acting as smaller subnetworks that are directed by a central controller. The Borg. If we could scramble local subspace geometry just enough we could take over the local network and act like the central Borg controller, we could gain an advantage. Anton didn’t understand how all that worked - he was a politician, not a communications officer, but it sounded pretty impressive to him. Sherlock: response Stapledon: Except we'd need to use most of our remaining power to distort local subspace around the ship. Serala/Sherlock: response McGillian: :: To Serala, and Chekhov:: Captain, and Mr. President, the Lieutenant’s idea could disrupt the Borg long enough for Admiral Picard to finish whatever miracle he is attempting. Chekhov: That does sound promising. Serala: Responses McGillian: We just have to have faith. Chekhov: ::dryly:: Picard is known for his miracles. Stapledon/Serala/Sherlock/McGillian: Responses Chekov: Captain, it is your ship. Stapledon/Serala/Sherlock/McGillian: Responses MSNPC President Anton Chekov President of the United Federation of Planets as simmed by... Lieutenant JG T'Ama Acting Chief of Operations USS Chin'toka C240004T11 4 Quote
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