Hidden in the Code
Mission 3: Old Enemies Never Die
Location: Deck 1: Main Bridge / Deck 6: Transporter Room 1
Timeline: MD 03 - 1630 Hours
Nokomis was the first to the Transporter room to welcome on board the survivors and see what assistance she could be. She was no physician but at least she could offer words of comfort or an arm to support someone in need. She nodded to the transporter chief and the transporter pad spring to live as bodies began to materialize in all different positions.
Maddie was among the last to transport to the ship, opting to stay behind as long as possible, despite the constant threat of attack, to make sure everyone made it out with as little trauma as possible. Finally, with one last glance around the remains of the ship that had been their sanctuary, Maddie tapped her own commbadge and called for transport.
Nikomis was helping people off the transporter pad when red lights suddenly flashed around the room and the klaxon began to sound. She frowned wondering what the hell was going on on the bridge. Her hand got as far as her communicator when it chirped and Logan's voice informed her of the Borg ship in route and of the possibility that she'd just beamed one of them up. "Understood, I'm going to seal us in but a few have made it out already," she said not taking a breath as she shut off the channel. "Computer, seal the doors, erect a level ten forcefield around the transporter room." She couldn't risk someone getting out of here until they were absolutely certain. She was stuck, inside, with possible Borg.
Meanwhile on the bridge, Captain Barrett was monitoring ship operations as Commander Diza was attending to the survivor recovery. Just then, he remembered to page a counselor to help the survivors find quarters and accommodations. "Barrett to counseling. Please send someone to transporter room one to assist Commander Diza."
Ozanna turned to her console at the most central vantage point on the bridge, looking agitated. The hairs on the back of her neck were up. If her telepathy were a sense of smell, something on the air was just *off*. Like there were people sleepwalking around the halls, semi consciously. She opened her mouth and drew a breath, intending to speak up, but then held back. It was just a faint feeling, and she wasn't even sure what to say.
"Commander." The sensors on the Federation vessel were really quite remarkable in their breadth; with, from Vriha's accounting, far better sensitivity and specificity alike for scientific applications than their own ships - but were not quite as well-tuned or powerful as she would expect from a warbird in some other areas. Such as the range to which the vessel on her sensors now had managed to close before detection. "We are detecting an unidentified vessel heading towards this location, currently on the outer perimeter of scan ranges."
Logan's face knit into a frown at the coincidence. "Can you identify it, lieutenant?" The last thing he wanted was to encounter a threat while the Orion had her shields down and in the middle of a rescue operation.
"No Sir, it seems to be emitting some kind of sensor interference." Lieutenant Isuri directed an ensign to send assistance to the scene of the transporter room, in case things were not all copacetic with the rescued parties, or just for extra helping hands. The Ensign nodded and turned on his heel to grab a couple more security members for his merry band. They knew the drill.
Vriha bent to her scanner and then straightened, a look of alarm contained only by long training. "Sir, there's another wreck on the surface. It's Borg."
Captain Barrett mulled over the new information silently. A Borg wreckage on the surface only led to one conclusion as to who the mysterious vessel also belonged... "Red alert. All hands to battle stations." He turned to Vriha and added, "Are we outside their sensor range? If so, how long until that changes?" He then addressed the chief of security, "Keep the shields down until all the survivors are aboard."
"Aye, Sir. Maintaining shields down. At current speed the probable Borg ship is twenty minutes out of firing range." Lt. Isuri watched as her department came online at their stations in response to the red alert scramble. "Targeting online. Torpedo bays manned, phaser banks online and charging, Captain."
The captain punched the intercom button on his command chair. "Barrett to Diza. A wrecked Borg ship is on the surface. I'm sending security down to the transporter room just in case. Also, a Borg vessel is heading into the system."
Lt. Isuri watched the beaming progress and continued to have an uncertain feeling. Telepathically she could account for the people joining them from the planet, but there was an additional sense, one she couldn't explain. Nerves? Maybe. "Something. Doesn't feel right." Ozzie felt stupid saying it. Humans couldn't understand telepathic misgivings and she was mad at herself for interrupting the tension with vagary. She started running a high level internal sensor scan, diverting computing power.
Barrett then directed the helm officer to keep the ship in an orbit that would mask their power signature from the incoming vessel.
The internal scan Lt. Isuri was running started lighting up with a string of intruder warnings. It hadn't been sleepwalkers she sensed- it was the Borg! "Sir, we have eleven Borg signals scattered on decks three, four, nine, and thirteen! Engaging forcefield containments, dispatching security teams!" She was torn between knowing her duty was on the bridge especially with an approaching Borg vessel to contend with, but also wanting to go below to support her teams.
"Lieutenant, lead your teams against the intruders. We're getting out of here before that ship arrives." With that, Captain Barrett ordered the helm to break orbit and head out of the system the opposite way of the impending ship's trajectory. He knit his brow in thought. We have to stop the Borg from taking over the ship. Starfleet has to know what's going on out here.
While there were other counselors on board, most of them were occupied when the captain’s call came. Lieutenant Junior Grade Lillia Herren looked up from the file that she had been perusing as she made her way to the small office that she was afforded, and immediately caught the eye of her supervisor. She may as well have raised her hand. After being given “the nod”, Lillia bowed her head respectfully and immediately made her way to transporter room one to lend what assistance that she could.
Once they materialized on the ship everything seemed to happen quickly. There was a flurry of activity, officers and crewmen in blue swarmed them. Some being transported directly to sickbay instead, others being triaged off the transporter pad. Maddie glanced around and inhaled deeply, savoring the fresh, clean scent of the ship. Finally, she looked around. "Which way is sickbay?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm. "I need to help tend to the wounded."
Lillia was moving between the wounded, offering her assistance where it was needed. She had spent her early life training to be a healer at her colony, even if she had chosen a counselor’s path, and was well acquainted with emergency care. When the doctor spoke, she looked up, and a brow raised over one dark eye. The young officer stood and approached who she knew was supposed to be her new boss.
“Ma’am, my name is Lillia. I can guide you to sickbay, but please allow us to tend to the wounded,” the dark-eyed young woman said, her tone concerned, gentle. She glanced at the new CMO’s injuries, though didn’t move to touch her senior officer. “Yourself included.”
Captain Logan Barrett
Commanding Officer, USS Orion
Commander Nokomis Diza
Executive Officer, USS Orion
Lieutenant Ozanna Isuri
Chief Security/Tactical Officer, USS Orion
Centurion Eilaea t'Keirianh
Operations Officer, USS Orion
Lieutenant Madeleine De Saint Castine, M.D.
Chief Medical Officer, USS Orion
Lieutenant Thomas Wolf, M.D.
Assistant Chief Medical Officer, USS Orion
Lieutenant Vriha t'Ehhelih
Science Officer, USS Orion
Lieutenant JG Lillia Herren
Counselor, USS Orion