Deeper By The Minute
Posted on Wed Aug 5th, 2015 @ 3:14pm by Major David Lorenz & Marine Captain Quentin Harrison
Mission:
Further Challenges
Location: UNKNOWN PLANET
Lieutenant Harrison and his platoon were as ready as they could possibly be. The wrecked transport had been stripped of anything useful, allowing Sgt Randall Crouch to cobble together some primitive sensor arrays and beef up the Argo-class vehicles carried in the transport's hangar bay. Crouch had managed to lock onto a subspace radio frequency only to have it jammed into static. "This Franklin guy is gonna get one giant nut-punch when I find the fucker!" Crouch cursed as he tried to manipulate the radio frequencies.
"Stand in line, laddie!" Quentin said in agreement. "He may be our XO's brother, but the lil bastard has a date with 270 pounds o' Scottish fury!"
"Incoming aircraft, three o'clock high!" a lookout called.
Instantly, Quentin had his rifle sweeping the sky until he locked onto the incoming aircraft. The small plane was a propeller-driven vehicle that swooped over the campsite of the Marines, then suddenly exploded as Quentin fired a salvo of phaser fire at the plane, hitting the craft several times.
"Now that wasn't very nice, Quentin!," a familiar voice sneered. "Here I was trying to look out for you with a drone and you blow it up!" The form of John Franklin materialized in front of the big Scot, who immediately fired his weapon. The phaser fire passed through Franklin's hologram and hit a stack of crates near Sgt. Crouch, scattering them and earning Quentin a few curses from the wiry tech.
"What do ye want?" Quentin demanded.
"Oh, I want my brother's head on a plate while I have sex with his wife and daughter! Franklin laughed. "Seriously, I am here to explain the rules of the game. Number one, you are my prisoners and will remain on this planet until I release you, and that will only happen when my brother surrenders himself to me. Rule two: there is a shield in place to prevent anyone from transporting in or out. The shield will also define the parameters of your confinement. If anyone is detected outside the shield perimeter, you will lose a soldier. Rule three: Any attempt at a rescue will be met with deadly force. Simply stated, if you want out, you will find a way to contact my brother on your station and explain the situation."
"I'd like to oblige you, but yer jammer is makin' it a wee bit difficult to contact anyone." Quentin pointed out.
"I will provide you a window of twenty minutes to get a message out, then I will turn the jammer back on and we will see just how good your troops are. Believe me, they had better be top-notch fighters if the want to take these creatures on." Franklin increased the hologram to show a hideously ugly creature that stood well over two meters tall. Brown hair covered a humanoid torso while the head was large and vaguely humanoid, complemented with vicious looking fangs and a pair of red eyes. "These are Hurata, a curious hybrid of Jem'Hadar and hominid DNA. The Vorta bred these creatures to supplant the Jem'Hadar, but found they couldn't control them with drugs. My organization was able to fashion a control system, of a sort. They respond to commands from a central point of control. Oh, and they will fight to the death on contact. You havetwenty minutes to get a message out." the hologram winked out.
Quentin nodded to Crouch. "Fire the message beacon, set it for maximum a fuel run, then begin burst transmissions. We have to assume it will be tracked and destroyed so make the transmissions count."
Crouch swiftly typed a series of commands then hit the launch control. A micro-torpedo suddenly launched from a nearby salvaged tube. The torpedo rose swiftly into the air and was soon out of sight. "Twelve minutes to transmission distance. sir." Crouch reported.
"Ingersoll, call everyone in, now! The rest of you prepare for imminent enemy contact." Quentin ordered. "We have uninvited guests that need to be repelled."
MARINE CSAR TRANSPORT GUNABOUT
THIRTY-FIVE MINUTES FROM RECON PLATOON'S LOCATION
Lorenz was a commander that liked to be involved in things, because waiting for updates made him nuts. Dave sat at the radio set, listening for any kind of signal his friend may have sent. =/\=This is a Starfleet emergency beacon. Captain Thomas Franklin is to surrender himself at the point of this beacon's launch. Amethyst Starfire Six-One-Five. Quentin sends.=/\= The message repeated itself.
Dave instantly ordered a course track was was relieved to see that the planet was class-M. "Okay, guys, we're not setting down yet."
"Why the hell not, sir?" the pilot demanded.
"Lieutenant Harrison informed me via coded message that there is a hostile force in control of the area he's in. Our job will be to look for any orbiting vessel and knock it out of the sky." Lorenz smiled. "Not to worry, if I know Quentin, we aren't the only ones who got his distress call."
"Major, sensors have intermittent contact with plasmatic exhaust discharge consistent with a Mark XIV M/ARA engine assembly. I think there is a cloaked ship in the area." Engineering reported.
"Localize it, chief. That may be our huckleberry. Any other contacts on the screens?"
"Negative, sir." the chief replied. "I'm scanning all freqs."
Where are you? Dave said to himself. "Chief, whats the polarity of the plasmatic discharge?""
"Mixture of negatively charged ions consistent with impulse engine exhaust."
"Plot the contacts!" Dave smiled. A course suddenly appeared on the main screen. "Ready a spread of quantum torpedoes. Open frequencies now!"
"Channel open!"
"This is Major David Lorenz, commanding officer of the Marine detachment at Starbase 900. Identify yourself and state your intentions!" No reply. "You have twenty seconds to comply, cloaked vessel."
"No answer, major!"
"Fire a full srpead fore and aft of the last known contact."
Four torpedoes leaped from their tubes, two impacting on the cloaked vessels port side. Within seconds the ship exploded in a a violent fireball.
"That wasn't them!" Dave snarled. "It's too easy..."
=/\=Major it's Quentin!=/\= Harrison's voice came over the speaker! =/\=Fall back now or we're.....=/\= The transmission cut abruptly.
"What's goin on down on the surface, Mr Liy?"
"Shield in place, unable to scan." the science/medical officer replied tightly.
"Oh my God!" Dave breathed. "Reverse course and retreat to 10 million km now!"
The CSAR transport heeled and tried to run, but a new ship swiftly decloaked itself and fired a volley of phasers at the fleeing ship, striking it amidships. Suddenly, the nose dropped and the ship began to spiral down to the planetary surface below. Lorenz sat at his station smiling. All part of the plan!
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A post by
The Starfleet Marines
In Trouble Again.
