Star Trek RPG - Mission #4: "Codex Aelyrr"

"Good to hear, Eris. And point to you, Three Crows. Unless the Klingons have some kind of anti-transporter tech on that ship--which at this point wouldn't surprise me, these mercs have some tech skills we don't, damn it--we could definitely beam in."

She flips the mic on again. "Mr. Rangin. Any way to tell if there's something preventing us from a beam-in? Not sure if it's possible without a test, but you're the sensor master."

With a flip of the switch, she turns back to the squad. "Of course either way, once we neutralize them and grab that Codex, we'll still be taking a space walk. Or at least I will, assuming I'm not injured. I didn't dress up like this because I enjoy looking like a bag of marshmallows." Her smile flashes. "But seriously--we've spent a lot of energy to retrieve this holy book. Once we have it, we might as well do right by the Priestess's wishes. Consider that an order--posthumous, if it comes to that. So if I'm down, whoever succeeds in confiscating the Codex, you get it back to the shuttle the old-fashioned way."

She sees a flash of light and turns back, guessing it was Collins's work. Though she can't tell if the shot hit its target, she has confidence that it will. "Booker, your thoughts on strategy here? You're the expert. Beaming in is faster and gives them less notice. But there might be a reason a break-in is better. Aside from my temptation to blast a hole in that damn shuttle, that is."

Collins carefully takes her shot and destroys the forward disruptor on the outer hull of the Klingon shuttle.

Rangin's scan does not reveal the manner in which the Codex is stowed or placed. It is there, and it is near a Klingon lifesign, but that's all he can learn for sure. Thalen refines his sweep of Klingon transmissions and determines that the Klingons are using a low-emission, short-range wireless intercom system of some kind, but the content is encrypted and will take some time to crack, if it can be done at all.

Rangin's scan reveals nothing that would interfere with anyone beaming into the shuttle.

St. Croix listens to Onn and says, "Understood, ma'am." Three Crows also nods solemnly.

Eris says, "Thank you, Lieutenant. That is commendable. I am sure it would please the High Priestess, and all Aeylyrr when word of this mission reaches home."

Graham swivels in his chair, grunts, and rubs his chin.

"Blasting our way into a small ship sucks. Especially if we don't want to accidentally shred this magic book. So does beaming into a small area where we might be under direct observation...and fire, while our asses take plenty long enough assembling to get dis-assembled by disruptor before they finish..."

"It's better if throw in some decoys - unoccupied evac suits - to distract and draw fire.... And if Yorktown can jerk 'em around a little, keeping at least some of them occupied at the conn..."

"Graham to Yorktown: can you provide a rundown on the Klingons' current location within the shuttle?"

Thalen repeats Rangin's earlier scan results as to the location of the three Klingons on the disabled shuttle.

Collins notices that Alveron and the Captain are speaking quietly with one another.

Rangin hears the requests come in and quickly responds to them. "Ma'am, there appears to be nothing to stop a beam in other than the limited space in the shuttle."

At Graham's request, Rangin checks the data he had already sent and shakes his head before resending it with the Klingons a little more clearly marked on the layouts. Rangin still wonders why, even during this Red Alert, Graham cannot bring himself to talk directly to him.

Without obviously eavesdropping, Collins concentrates to try to hear what Alveron and Singh are discussing. Part of her wishes she could be part of the shuttle crew, but given what happened earlier, maybe it's best she isn't.

'Fuck," Graham growls, standing up and pain to the extent he can in the tight confines of the shuttle. 'Tight quarters."

He initially addresses Onn, but keeps the channel open to the Yorktown and frequently turns to St. Croix and Three Crows.

"Here's my recommendation. Yorktown splashes the shuttle with phaser fire. Not for effect since we're beaming over there, but enough of a light show and turbulence to keep these ass-- Klingons occupied at conn."

"At t-minus two seconds initiate transport of dummies--stand up some evac suits on transporter pads--into what Yorktown calls cabin A, the command area."

"At t-minus one second, initiate transport of one dumm center, and me, and St. Croix on the flanks into the the backside area B. We want the wall at our back."

"At go time, initiate transport of Three Crows, and Eris into the flanks of area B, one on each side along the wall. And a dummy front and center of the door to area A."

"We're aiming to draw the one out of the back chamber, and if not have clear fields of fire on heavy stun. Anybody gets their hands on the Codex, we beam out and can deal with the shith-- Klingons in the command area remotely."

He clears his throat and turns back to Nia. "That's my oh-two, ma'am."

While he speaks, Nia's eyes narrow slightly as she tries to visualize Booker's plan. When he's done, she raises her right eyebrow. "And an interesting 'oh-two' it is. But there are two problems. One, I'm not sure how these EV suits are intended to stand up on their own rather than collapse in a heap. There's no time to rig up some sort of stand for them, and unless you know something I don't about the hobbies of our crewmates, I don't think there are that many life-size dummies on board." Not counting certain crewmates themselves, that is.

She shifts in her chair and makes sure Booker understands how serious she is about this next part. "Two, you either miscounted, or you seem to have cast me in the role of the chauffeur who keeps the engine running while the rest of you go shopping for Codexes. Uh, codices. Whatever." She tosses a 'no offense intended' look toward Eris before facing Booker again.

"Here's what I've got. I go over there manually. I use my hands to maneuver rather than let my mag boots connect with their hull, so they won't hear me... until I set off a single charge, one that should break the airlock handle without causing any serious damage. Obviously the ship won't be in danger of depressurization--that's the whole point of an airlock, right?

"They'll think we're intending a manual entry, and will focus on the door--letting you four beam in, with or without dummies." She gestures to the others with a sweep of her arm. "You blast the hell out of them and once I see an opening, I'll let myself into the shuttle and back you up--or, if it's feasible, I'll head straight for the B section and make the move on our Codex-holding friend if he's still back there."

Meeting Booker's gaze for a second longer, she then turns to the communicator as if able to see the Captain. "Those are our suggestions, ma'am. All I ask is that if Collins aims some phaser fire at the shuttle, she avoids the port side, at least while I'm hanging out there."

"Thank you, Mr. Rangin," the Captain says.

Collins could not make out what Singh and Alveron were saying. She was too far away, and they were speaking too quietly.

After Graham and Onn have spoken, Three Crows says, "If we beam in empty but fully pressurized spacesuits with weights in their boots, they'd stand for at least a few seconds, and that might be enough to distract the Klingons long enough, if we go with Mr. Graham's proposal."

Singh rubs her chin. "Mr. Collins, what do you think?" she asks. "Do you favor one of these proposals, or do you have one of your own?"

"I like Graham's idea" Collins replies, "with Three Crow's modification. I can give you a very distracting light show on the Klingon's starboard side, close enough to worry them but still leaving their ship alone."

What a surprise, Nia thinks, shaking her head. Security folks sticking together. And as usual, they create rococo plans when an easier solution that involves less shooty-bang fireworks--and actually gives a nod to our guests' wishes--is available.

"Captain, here's an idea that puts no one but the Klingons at risk. Security or Medical must have some sort of knockout or tear gas capsules in their box of toys. Beam a few in, knock the Klingons out, and then let's clean up afterwards." Her grin widens at the thought of these warriors felled by such an embarrassing method. "Collins can distract them with her light show, of course." I'm sure that'll keep her happy.

"This way we can transport in, detach the unconscious--or at least groggy--Klingons' anti-transporter devices, and beam them right into our brig. And I collect the Codex and carry it out manually, according to the Priestess's wishes. That's the least risk to anyone, wouldn't you say, Mr. Graham?" She directs a smile toward him before addressing the others on the ship. "Dr. T'Var, Mr. Rangin, you're the most knowledgeable of Klingon physiology... what do we have that can take out a Klingon?"

Dr. T'Var says, "We do have anesthizine gas canisters that could be set to dispense their contents upon beam-in. Type 3A has been shown to be highly effective against Klingons."

http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Anesthizine

"Excellent, Doctor. Thank you." Nia lifts her hands out toward the co-pilot's seat, as if giving a gift to Booker. "There, you see? As low risk as we can imagine. Mr. Rangin, from what you've learned of the Aelyrr's biology, Eris won't be in any danger, will she? Anyway, we can just wear our helmets."

She purses her lips in thought. "So, Collins distracts them with phaser fire, the canisters are beamed in, we give the Klingons time to inhale everything, then we'll beam in--uh, Eris, I'm not sure how you feel about that--and our Security officers keep a close watch on any Klingons who might be woozy but not entirely unconscious. You never know if one has a better constitution than the others, and we don't want to be caught flat-footed.

"Also, the one near the Codex could pose some problems, if for some reason we can't beam the canisters in there, but surely five of us can take on one Klingon." She shifts her attention to Booker briefly. Though she doesn't speak, her expression shows her determination. Yes, Book, I said five. I'm the leader of this mission, and I don't send people to do a job without me.

"Of course," she continues, "top priority will be grabbing those anti-transporter devices so the Yorktown can snatch the thieves right into the brig." Nia smiles at Eris. "And once that's through, it'll be my pleasure to escort Eris and the Codex back the old-fashioned way. Assuming our Security officers approve and you give the go-ahead, Captain."

"No argument from me if the Doc thinks anesthizine can be beamed in to take the Klingons down. Collins' light show could help ensure they don't have time to react and scramble into suits--assuming they aren't already in suits."

He frowns. "That's the one thing we need to worry about - are these clowns smart enough to be in suits already, and even more than that, to 'play dead' and catch us with our pants down on beam in. If we can't count on the sensors to have sufficient fidelity to confirm their vital signs man they are really down and out, I'd still put a dummy in each compartment immediately before..."

He pauses and looks at Onn, specifically, getting her hint that she intends to be part of the party--something he doesn't think is necessary, or even prudent...it's not like me or St. Croix are demanding turn at the stick... But he's sure she's not in the mood for a debate.

"...Us - so the sensors can track if any of our bogies take any action in response."

"The evac suits are self contained if you use them, otherwise you'll need to use respirators or helmets. You will all be fine if you breathe it in, you just won't be awake for very long, ma'am." he responds dryly.

While speaking Rangin is already adjusting the sensors to check on the Klingon's lifesigns and to see if he can determine if they are in evac suits or not. He's tranquilised bigger and more dangerous creatures than those. Making sure they are down is always a very good idea, although just putting them down in a stupor is sometimes enough.

Rangin's sensor scan does not show if the Klingons are in typical armor, as was seen aboard the Naradraen, or are wearing spacesuits with independent life-support capability. He cannot refine the scan to that level of detail.

Singh says, "We'll do as you propose, Mr. Onn. Stand by on forward phasers, Mr. Collins. Lock on and set to five percent power. Fire only on Mr. Onn's order." She turns to Dr. T'Var and says, "Prepare anesthizine gas canisters, Type 3A, and rig them as you suggested. Take them to Transporter Room 1 on the double and let us know when you're ready."

The Vulcan healer nods and leaves the Bridge. A few minutes later she reports from belowdecks, "Ready, Captain."

"Proceed, Mr. Onn," the Captain says.

"Acknowledged, thank you, ma'am." Nia turns to the squad. "Helmets on, everyone. I know it'll be awkward to enter combat in these things, but this won't be much of a fight if we're all doped up."

Before she dons the helmet, she swings the Tesla around to the Klingon shuttle's port side. Gently bringing them to a halt, Nia pulls up as close as she dares to the Klingon vessel. If they were any closer she'd probably be able to wave hello to the enemy through the windows. In fact... Oh, duh.

Locking the Tesla in position, she grabs the bulky helmet from near the pilot's seat and secures it on her head. "Well, I just remembered the easiest way to check if they're suited up: old-school 20-20 vision. I'll go out there and take a peek myself. If I manage to see anything I'll let you all know whether there's any purpose in beaming the canisters over. I won't touch the ship itself, so there shouldn't be any danger unless Collins misses and hits us, which seems unlikely." Or it had better be. Shouldn't give Vargas any ideas.

"Meanwhile, the rest of you, get into the configuration Mr. Graham suggested earlier. Given our numbers and theirs, we should always have one more of us in each compartment. So, two of us on the target in B, and three on the two in A--including me. I know it won't matter if they're unconscious, but let's call it an abundance of caution." She looks at Booker in hopes he'll confirm the plan. Her lips are dry and she licks them. Nerves. Calm down.

She then realizes she hasn't heard a response from Eris to her earlier question. "Eris. You okay with beaming on there? If the canisters work there's no need for all five of us; you can wait until the Codex is free before I let you in via their airlock."

Unless there are any objections, Nia will set up the Tesla to depressurize on her mark, and will wait until it's safe before she makes her EVA.

Collins adjusts the strength of the phasers to five percent of full power, and gets ready to fire on Onn's word.

Graham starts to feel...comfortable.

He almost shakes his head. Worst misconception I had to correct when teaching at the Academy was that staying cool was a reflection of "being brave." Anybody sensible would be smart to be scared if they thought about it...It's about being in a different zone. Doing your job. You know the motions, you know they're your best shot at not getting killed versus second-guessing things.

"Check weapons," Graham says, glancing at his Security colleagues and then Onn.

"Good plan, ma'am," he says in reply to her. "I'd suggest--Eris, if you're willing to transport--that she's with me in B." He turns so toward Eris and then back to Onn. "Making it her mission to get her hands--er, claws--well, whatever, on the Codex. I'll take care of the Klingon if necessary."

He shrugs slightly. "I'd hate to cause a diplomatic incident if one of us drops your sacred thing." He pauses. "But seriously, a 'believer' in the Aelyrr faith should be the one who might be a position of taking a disruptor blast to shield the book. It's honestly likely we all might make different decisions."

Turning her head, Nia is about to contradict Booker. The fact that Eris might very well put herself between a disruptor and the Codex is precisely why Nia would not want Eris in that position.

Nia's prime concern is getting all her people back safely. Eris might be another race, not even part of the Federation, but as long as she's under Nia's command she's part of the team. If Nia absolutely must choose between the Codex and Eris's life, she'll choose the life, every time.

But she closes her mouth without speaking. Booker has more experience in this particular area. He doesn't take life lightly--or maybe it's just human life? No, that's... that's not right, is it?--and Nia has to believe he knows what he's talking about.

Anyway, if the Anesthizine does its job, it's all moot. As it will be if Eris decides she'd rather not beam across unless it's absolutely necessary.

Swallowing, Nia checks her weapon and makes sure it's on heavy stun.

"I will do what is required of me," Eris says, putting on and securing her helmet. "It is my duty, and I wish to go. I do not mind being... 'beamed,' as you say. As we discussed before, it is important to our people that one of us plays a role in the recovery of the Codex. I am ready and willing to be that person."

Three Crows and St. Croix are also soon both ready. They set their phasers on heavy stun. Eris also adjusts her phaser.

Onn sees from her helmet's heads-up systems display that all of the boarding party's spacesuits check out and that everyone is ready for hard vacuum.

"Tesla, this is Yorktown," Singh says. "Standing by."

"Aye captain," Nia says, and takes a deep breath. "All right. Everyone. I'm about to open the shuttle hatch; I'll set it to close behind me, but hold on in the meantime. Probably take me forty-five seconds to get to the airlock window. I'll look in, hopefully see some--" Ugly sons of bitches, she nearly says, but quickly switches it to: "--Klingon faces, rather than masks. If so, we'll call this Scenario One. I'll give T'Var the go-ahead to start a five-second countdown. Collins shoots on T minus three, Chief Nguyen beams the canisters on T minus zero. I keep watch. When they're out, I'll call for Chief Nguyen to beam us in."

She blinks with a thought. "Oh, and Chief, put me as far aft in Compartment A as possible, opposite St. Croix and Three Crows, who should be against the other wall. Anything so that we flank the two Klingons in there.

"Okay. Scenario two." She swallows and keeps the instructions clear in her head. "If the Klingons have pressure suits, I'll give the signal to Graham, who'll take the five-second countdown. Collins, you still shoot at T minus 3. Chief, beam us all in at T minus zero.

"Everyone, please acknowledge these instructions. I'll leave as soon as I get your okays."

She lowers her head slightly as she walks to the back of the Tesla. The depressurized shuttle feels different. The suits compensate almost perfectly, but the difference between almost and perfectly is noticeable. Still much better than she had back on Sidonia.

Her hand reaches for the door release switch, ready to hit it. After a hesitation, she looks back toward Graham, then turns away again. With her glove-covered left hand she flips a button on the outside of her suit to invoke her suit's personal communicator. "Onn to Graham," she says, facing the wall instead of him. "This is private, but I just have two things. First, make sure Eris doesn't do anything stupid. If she kills the Klingon, stun her furry ass. Religion or not, I'm not having that shit." Nia licks her lips again and speaks more softly. "And two... Take care of yourself, Book. See you on the other side."

With the action soon to be underway, Rangin goes back to scanning the overall details of the shuttle keeping an eye on the Klingons and the radiation trace while the monitoring of the nebula ticks over in the background.

"Acknowledged" Collins calls out and waits for Onn's countdown.

"Also acknowledged," Chief Nguyen says. "Standing by."

The Tesla's tripartite door silently opens. Onn steps to the threshold and looks out. Through the visor of her helmet, the purplish-red nebula fills almost her entire field of vision. The view is simply spectacular. To her left, ahead of the Klingon shuttle, the Yorktown is silhouetted against the nebula, its position lights blinking and its Starfleet registry number, NCC-1717, clearly visible on the bottom of the saucer section. The heavy cruiser's bow is slightly high, its forward phasers brought to bear.

The port side of the Klingon mercenaries' small craft is about six meters away. It looks almost close enough to touch. She now sees that its hull is pitted and scarred, and there is a noticeable dark stain running aft of a vent or grille of some kind. Small handholds are visible here and there on the hull. There is also a small rectangular viewport or window about a third of the way aft from the bow, to her left, and she can just see the recessed lines of the airlock door - about as big as a single standard pocket door on the Yorktown - a little more than two meters aft of that. Onn knows from the specs that there is an identical viewport on the starboard side, and two other, larger viewports at the bow for the pilot and copilot's use.

"You too, Nia," Graham replies quietly (and over a direct channel) to Onn.

Nia inhales deeply as she stares at the astonishing view. Never, never can anyone who hasn't taken a space walk understand what it's like to feel this insignificant and humble among the vast beauty of the stars. The nebula, the Yorktown framed against it... they're so unutterably breathtaking Nia's eyes fill with tears.

But she's not here to enjoy the sights. When she focuses on things closer to her, they're far from lovely. The shuttle in front of her is even uglier, and much more intimidating, than she judged it from the pilot's seat.

Blinking away the tears, Nia hears Booker's response to her. She smiles, relieved to have a reminder of what, and who, is behind her. With no tether to connect her to the Tesla, Booker's voice will have to suffice.

She feels along the side of the Tesla's hatch to get some purchase, and for one, maybe two seconds she floats completely free in space. It's an exhilarating, terrifying moment and her lungs catch with the knowledge that so much could go wrong in this tiny period of time. The Klingons could move their shuttle and crush her. Her suit could decompress due to some hole that's half the size of a pinprick. Her mag-boots could fail. She could misjudge her next movement, unable to grasp the Tesla and instead push away from it, causing an unintentional tailspin that would send her reeling from the shuttle like jettisoned cargo.

All those possibilities flash through her head until her gloved fingers grab the edge of the hatch. Amazing. No matter how many EVAs are in her past, each one might as well be the first. The same fright seizes her. But her gratitde once she feels the safety of reconnecting with the vessel is indescribable. It's worth the fear just to feel the relief.

Her mag-boots connect with the Tesla's hull, and she has to look over her shoulder while she sidles, crab-like, along the shuttle. Once she's close enough to risk it, she disconnects her left mag-boot and stretches outward to grab one of the Klingon shuttle's hand-holds.

They must know I'm out here, she thinks. Okay. Think. What are the risks? Well, they can repair the shields, for one. That would suck. She'd be trapped and paralyzed by the field. They can send some kinda electric pulse along the hull, frying me for good. And if they turn out to have been shamming I'm gonna be hitchhiking a ride to who-the-hell-knows where inside that nebula.

Frowning, she tells her inner voice to cram it, counts to three, and leaps forward to grasp at the nearest handhold she can find. If she succeeds, she'll float rather than use her boots to connect herself to the shuttle, and move along until she can see inside that small window.

If she doesn't, she'll have to push her way back to the Tesla. And try again until she doesn't screw up her own stupid plan.

Onn has a firm grip. She noticed for the first time, as she covered the short distance from her shuttle to this one, that there was sooty, scuffed Klingon lettering beside the airlock door. She cannot read it.

Too bad, Nia thinks briefly as she regards the lettering and moves from one handhold to the other. Would've been nice to know the name of this shuttle we've banged up. She doubts the passengers will be forthcoming with any details.

When she reaches the door, she unconsciously holds her breath while slowly, very slowly, she pulls herself up to take a look inside the shuttle.

Graham waits for Onn's signal.

Why the fuck am I not the one out there, he thinks. He knows Onn probably would have been resistant to the suggestion, but...fuck, it's on me if things go bad and I didn't insist, myself...

Eris and St. Croix stand ready. Three Crows goes to the doorway to take a look outside, and you can hear her sharp intake of breath over the shared comm channel when she sees the view. "Wow," she murmurs.

Rangin gathers no additional sensor data of operational usefulness.

Thalen adjusts the main viewscreen input and zooms in on the Klingon shuttle. Everyone on the Bridge can clearly see Onn.

Graham flexes his fingers and knees.

He doesn't turn to look at Three Crows--and, if he'd thought about rather than reacted by instinct, he might have decided to stay silent since he was no longer a senior officer--but he does react instinct.

"Let's stay focused, people," he says quietly and evenly over the shared channel.

For Nia, time seems to be going very slowly, as if it's affected by the lack of gravity and is floating, unhurried, toward an uncertain destination. She hears the various remarks of her crewmates but they're like a mosquito flying past her head--inconsequential and tiny, compared to both the risk and exhilaration of her current goal.

She keeps moving toward the port view window and tries to see inside, hoping to catch the sight of a Klingon--preferably the back of someone's head, because she certainly doesn't want to meet anyone's gaze glaring at her. She unclenches the gloved fingers of her right hand and places her palm against the hull; this way, if necessary, she can push herself away as quickly as possible to the relative safety of the Tesla.

Three Crows says, "Understood."

Onn can see some variations of light and dark inside the Klingon shuttle, but nothing distinct.

Given Lt Onn's current action, Rangin carefully monitors the Klingon's biosigns to see any jump in them which could possibly be them being alerted to her presence.

Nia swears inwardly. What could possibly be causing such a visual problem in a window? If they can see out, she should be able to see through it.

"Onn to Yorktown and Tesla. I can't see much except light and shadow. Yorktown, you getting any sense that their electrical is on the blink?"

She looks around and sees the messy hull again. Gnawing the inside of her lip in thought, she raises her free gloved hand and wipes the viewport, wondering if perhaps it's just covered in soot like the ship's signage.

If she still can't see anything, Nia will have to go around to the starboard side and give that a go. Failing that... the last resort is sneaking a peek through the main viewport up front. Not something she relishes, but a risk for her is better than risking the lives of the entire squad.

Hearing the question come in, Rangin immediately runs a diagnostic to check so he can respond .

Rangin's sensors can detect that all the Klingons are male and alive, but not much more than that. The Klingon shuttle's systems seem to be functioning normally.

The viewport is indeed dirty. Onn's spacesuit glove's fingertips come away blackened. When she peers through again, she realizes that the lighting in the compartment is dim. She can just make out the seated form of a large Klingon facing the bow and, beside him, a large case of some kind. It does not look like the Codex.

Nia's certain that if anyone's monitoring her own lifesigns, her heart rate probably jumped up by about fifteen points.

"Yorktown. Tesla. Visual contact confirmed." Her voice's hushed monotone is automatic, even though she doubts there's any likelihood of the Klingons tracking her transmission, much less hearing her directly. "One Klingon sitting... Some kind of big box beside him, doesn't appear to be the Codex, though I'm not sure if it's capable of holding the Codex inside... Getting in closer. Stand by."

She moves as near to the viewport as possible without hitting it with her helmet, mentally checking off a list of questions she must answer before reporting in full and okaying the operation:

- Is the Klingon wearing a pressure suit?

- Does this appear to be Compartment A or B, judging from its distance away from the bow?

- Is the case large enough to hold the Codex, at least what she remembers of it while chasing the Klingon through the Naradraen?

- For that matter, is this Klingon the same one she saw fighting with Alveron and then running away?

The last question is solely for her own admittedly unprofessional desire for payback. The guy she chased might have died on the scout ship... but she hopes not. After failing to prevent his escape, Nia wants a piece of him.

Graham reminds himself that the shuttle's disruptors are disabled, and the subsequent explosive decompression of the shuttle that would follow taking a shot at Nia through a viewport ought to discourage even a Klingon...But at the moment I wish I were out there while she was in here. Of course, then I'd be worried about the beam-in...

He chastises himself for allowing thoughts that can wait to intrude on his readiness to go: people take too much on themsleves. Kyle can hardly help from beating himself up.

That phrase coming to mind causes his jaw to tighten.

But Nia worried me chasing after that Klingon on her own...

"Acknowledged, Mr. Onn," Singh says through her helmet comm system. "Proceed with caution."

Onn cannot see clearly enough to tell if the Klingon is in a spacesuit, armor or heavy clothing. He appears to be in compartment B. The case looks like it could be big enough for the Codex. She thinks maybe, but cannot be sure, that it is the "boss Klingon" who fled from her with the Codex on the Naradraen.

The level of light in the compartment drops further and Onn realizes that another Klingon is now standing in the doorway to her left, at the back of what must be compartment A, blocking the light coming from there. He gestures a little, apparently talking to the larger, seated Klingon.

Eris goes to the Tesla's hatchway and rests one paw on its edge. Seeing this, Graham has an uneasy feeling and doesn't quite know why.

"All right. I can see his face," Nia murmurs to whoever's listening to her. "So he's not wearing a helmet. But I can't tell what he's wearing from this angle. And the box could contain the Codex." She peers at the other Klingon, then back to 'hers.' "Tesla squad: note that Klingon #2 is in the open doorway now.

"Captain, new recommendation. Collins should hit them with a low level phaser at precisely the same time as Chief Nguyen transports the gas canisters. If both occur simultaneously they might pay enough attention to the hit to notice the anesthezine. Our beaming in five seconds later will distract them further. Mr. Nguyen, please start the five-second countdown on my mark. At T-3, you and Collins beam the canisters and fire. At T-0, beam the squad in. Please confirm if this strategy's acceptable, Captain; Nguyen." Assuming they agree, she'll just nod her head. Time to back away to relative safety.

She takes a deep breath and, uncurling her fingers from the hand-hold, uses them to push herself directly backwards, toward her shuttle. While floating in space, nothing supporting her, she can't help the slight edge of nervousness in her voice as she continues.

"Pushing myself back to the Tesla now. I'll wait out the countdown and hopefully avoid any physical damage from Collins's phaser." She tries to lighten her tone. "Collins, if you hit starboard too hard, you may push the Klingons right into me. Please bear that in mind. Okay. On my mark, everyone."

After what feels like ages but can't have been more than six or seven seconds, Nia turns, knowing she should be bumping into the Tesla now. When she does, she'll deploy her mag-boots and, at last, give the command to begin the countdown.

She'll also pray that after Collins fires, the Klingons don't move any closer to the Tesla. What seemed like a long way to float freestyle is most definitely not a long way for a ship to list upon being hit by a phaser. There are many ways she's expected to die on a mission, but being crushed like a pancake in between two shuttles is definitely not one of them.

Collins has no intention of hitting the Klingon shuttle. She's just going to cause a distraction. Best case, the Klingons will panic and be caught off guard when Onn's team boards; worst case, they'll think we can't aim, and laugh with relief, and again be surprised by Onn et al.

Seeing Eris move, Graham says "hold your positions," on the open channel with the same even tone he used in response to Three Crows' comment. "We move as a team or not at all."

"Acknowledged and approved, Tesla," the Captain says.

Eris is silent and does not reply to Graham.

Onn sails across open space and lightly makes contact once more with the Starfleet shuttle; her magboots grip firmly. The Klingon shuttle does not move. The Sidonian officer can reenter the Tesla's open doorway easily.

Chief Nguyen says, "Tesla, Transporter Room here. Beginning countdown. Five... four... three...."

In the seconds left, Nia grabs the edge of the doorway, releases her magboots, and propels herself around so she can land on the floor of the Tesla's open hatch. The sight of Eris so close to the entrance surprises her for an instant and she has to adjust to avoid slamming into the Aelyrr.

If she lands safely, she'll yank out her phaser and prepare to be beamed out--ideally as she ordered, against the wall of compartment A.

An image flashes in her mind in the time remaining: that second Klingon she saw in the doorway. He'll be right next to her. Her hand clenches her phaser more tightly.

Don't hesitate. If he's still standing, he's getting stunned.

As was prearranged, when Collins hears Nguyen say "three", she fires the phasers on low, in rapid succession, just off the Klingon's starboard bow.

Graham draws his phaser. Nia's not here, and even if I'm not officially the ranker I'm the oldest for what that's worth...

"Weapons free," he states over the open channel with some emphasis. "Stun setting, no warning, no hesitation if you have a target. Repeat: stun setting, weapons free."

And just get Nia the fuck out of there, she's done more than enough already, he thinks, but doesn't say.

"Acknowledged," St. Croix and Three Crows respond as one to Graham's orders. Eris raises her Aelyrr-design phaser and says, "Understood, and ready."

The Yorktown's forward phaser beams race past the Klingon shuttle's bow quite close, but do not hit it.

"Beaming gas canisters in now," comes Ferguson's voice over the comm channel.

"Beaming boarding party in now," Nguyen says right after that.

Onn, St. Croix and Three Crows materialize in the forward chamber, Compartment A, of the shuttle. Graham and Eris beam into Compartment B, just aft of that.

A slim, wiry Klingon - call him K1 - appears to be the pilot, and is sitting at the front of compartment A, facing the controls. Another, larger one, K2, is standing in the doorway just behind Onn, St. Croix and Three Crows, and facing aft, just as Onn saw him earlier.

The third, largest Klingon of all, K3, is rising from his seat in compartment B, which looks like a cargo storage area.

K1 begins to turn around. K2 and K3 reach for their sidearms, K3 saying something as he does so. None of them are in spacesuits, but are in the same kind of battered armor you saw on the Naradraen. None seem as yet affected by the anesthizine gas, the canisters for which you see more or less equidistantly placed here and there on the deck.

Eris points her phaser at K3.

All of this happens in just seconds.

Neutralize command and control, Graham thinks, taking a shot at K3.

At this point he suspects Eris might not be obeying the "stun setting" order but doesn't really give a shit. We'll file a complaint with Aelyrr Central aftewards.

(K2 is his intended next target if he has any opportunity.)