[Galaxy] [Meridian] 16 Mar, MACO log, Mason]

[blanhe2]

[Shuttle Pod One]

Mason was standing behind the shuttle pilot, a boatswain he was assured was
one of Meridian's best, surveying the situation ahead.  There wasn't much to
see out the viewport, except for the stunning view of an icy planet beneath,
so he was more interested in the sensor readings coming in.

The orbiting facility did indeed have defensive batteries, and more than
simple point-defense emplacements.  These were decent cannon at several
positions.  He could see that was Morningstar getting a little too close,
and she paid for it.  The comm chatter picked up by their passive receivers
confirmed it.

"Morningstar to Meridian," the open speaker announced.  Mason almost felt
like he was eavesdropping.  "We've taken major damage to forward plating,
but we're holding.  Still unable to penetrate facility's energy shielding."

"Apollo to Venus," another voice said.  "Come around and follow us in, we're
going to try to target the far shielding generator.  Sending targeting
coordinates now.  Follow up with torpedoes once we break away."

That part was for the MACOs.  If they could get that shielding down,
something they weren't prepared for, then the shuttle pods carrying his team
could move in.  Finally.  They were sitting ducks at present.

Mason watched the telemetry feed from the pod's passive sensors as Apollo
lead Venus on a wide arc around the station.  Venus's position allowed
Apollo to act as a living shield as the destroyer delivered a torpedo volley
that had to have given the Romulans a bad day.  Then Apollo banked hard,
exposing Venus and giving the fast escort a clear shot to the same location.

"Venus to Task Force," the excited communications officer announced.  "Far
shielding collapsed.  Explosions confirmed on the facility.  Direct hit to
shield generator."

That was it.  Now they had to hope Vanhanen's engine upgrades could speed
them past those cannons.  Even one hit would destroy a pod, but they
couldn't wait any longer.  The shields might have been just the delay
necessary for those Rommulan ships detected in the area to make their way
here.  Mason turned to his men, the eight MACOs of First Squad crammed
together like sardines, and nodded.  He then returned his gaze to the
forward viewscreen and patted the boatswain on the shoulder.  "Take us in,"
he said simply.

Shuttle Pod One began vectoring in.  While no active communication passed
between them and Shuttle Pod Two, the other pod, carrying Spencer and Second
Squad, knew the signal.  Shuttle Pod Two fell in line as the MACOs sped into
the fray.

Rounding the curvature of the ice world below, the battle ahead came into
view.  Two Venus-class escorts zooming in tight arcs, loosing phase cannon
fire with each pass of their elliptical orbits of the facility, as the one
Sol-class destroyer made good use of their torpedo supply.  The
comparatively larger and more dominating NX-class was enacting its own
punishment of the Romulan waystation.  Between the serene planet drifting by
below, and the show of starships and light ahead, Mason couldn't decide
which was more beautiful.

But the first cannon shot that exploded near them cut his thoughts short as
the pod shuttered.  Mason tapped the comms to actively connect to Pod Two.
No sense trying to stay dark now that they were in the cross-hairs.  "Mike
One Niner to Morningstar," he announced, choosing the closest ship.  "We're
going to need some help if we're going to make it.  Can you divert some
fire?"

An excruciating moment passed as the communications officer relayed the
request to the CO, and the CO considered the options and made a decision.
"Morningstar to Mike One Niner," came the eventual reply as the pod banked
out of the way of an incoming blast.  "Maintain heading as best you can,
we're coming around."

What happened next was a startling scene as the Morningstar darted directly
in front of the shuttle pod, allowing Mason a far too close view of the
large ship's belly.  The cannons, however, pulled their fire away from the
incoming shuttles as they tracked the new target.  Morningstar even managed
to destroy an emplacement on the pass.  It was enough for the pods to cross
the killzone and start docking maneuvers.

Mason had to admit, when Finney said he would give his best shuttle pilots,
he wasn't kidding.  The boatswain's docking maneuver was fast and flawless.
With a thump and a hiss, the floor hatch was yanked open and First Squad's
Fire Team A was onboard the facility.  Then Mason hurried through the hatch,
followed by Fire Team B.


[Romulan Waystation]

The corridor the MACOs found themselves in was rounded and greenish in tint.
There was only minimal lighting, but that might be part of their tactical
alert.  Then again, there seemed to be minimal life support in effect as
well.  That was disturbing to Mason until he realized no one was firing
their weapons.  There was no opposition to their entry.  Had they abandoned
the station and automated the defense cannons?  There wasn't time enough to
ponder the quagmire of possibilities.  There was only to identify the
current situation and continue the mission.

Mason keyed his MACO-issue communicator.  "Mike One Niner to Mike Two," he
said.  'Mike' was the designation for the MACOs; 'One' or 'Two' identified
the squad; and 'Niner' was the coded suffix for a leader.  "What's your
situation?"

"This is Mike Two Niner," came Spencer's reply.  "We are on-station at
designated ingress point.  No contact."

"Roger that, Mike Two Niner," Mason replied.  "I am designating a new
objective.  Identify and disable automated defense system controls."

"Copy, disable automated defenses.  Will recontact in five."

Mason checked his fire teams.  They were in defensive positions covering
their assigned directions, weapons trained but finding no targets.  He keyed
his communicator again.  "Mike One Niner to Meridian," he called.  "Team is
onboard.  No contact as of yet and believe defensive systems to be
automated.  Attempting to disable guns and shields.  Request task force
boarding parties to stand-by."

Holding his communicator out for a response, he turned to Fire Team A and
caught the attention of the team leader on point.  He motioned a few quick
hand signals.  'Bounding by teams.  Double time.  Move out.'


---
CPT Carl Mason, MACO
Team Commander
Special Detachment 06