[Galaxy] War Stories: Ramirez, ESS Amaratsu, Connors

[Robert]

[ Alpha Group, ESS Freedom, Bridge ]

“Forward plating at sixty-two percent,” Whitmore called.

Just then a starship in front of them erupted into a bright flash. 
Ramirez shielded his eyes with an outstretched hand.  A moment of panic 
hit him until his science officer called, “Klingon battlecruiser destroyed!”

“Nowhere to go...!” called the helmsman.  Ramirez heard the bang and 
hard skittering of debris off the hull as Freedom broke through the 
still erupting debris and into the other side of the battle.

Whitmore called out again, “Selecting new target.  Coordinating fire 
with Pearl Harbor and Vanguard.”

“Let’s make use of those torpedoes, Commander,” Ramirez retorted to his XO.

Alpha Group needed to take as much advantage of the relative surprise 
and cause as much damage as possible as Beta followed.  So far they’d 
been giving as good as they’d got, par for the course of the whole war 
actually, but if they didn’t lay down the law now, whatever they had in 
reserve wouldn't be used for anything but a rear-guard action as they 
covered the fleet’s retreat.

Ramirez looked to his comms officer.  “How’s our group, Lieutenant?”

“Nightingale has lost weapons,” he called.  “She’s falling back to 
Gamma.”  The officer held his hand over his earpiece and shook his head. 
  “We’re getting hit too hard, everywhere, I can’t make out the 
individual damage reports.”

“We /expected/ to get hit hard, we’re the head of the hammer!” Ramirez 
snapped.  “Just give me Challenger, then!”

The comms officer paused, eyes closed.  “Polarization less than half. 
They’ve got wounded on the bridge.”

“Tell Luddington and Pacific to move to support Challenger,” Ramirez 
called.  The heavy ships were the key to these groups, and if they lost 
even /one/ now...


----------


// ESS Amaratsu, Sol Class Destroyer, Beta Group //

It was a radical change, coming out of warp where entire stars whizzed 
past on the viewer as mere streams of light in an infinite, unfolding 
vortex. The speed was suddenly halted and the scene before the Amaratsu 
became a montage of vessels merging and emerging in slow-motion, 
connected by crisp, hot strikes of red and gold and blue fire tracing 
through the mêlée.

She swooped under the belly of a Klingon Bird of Prey, and then swung 
back and forth on the approach to another, slipping over the back of the 
second ship. The close proximity of the two BOP protected the agile 
Sol-class ship to some degree, as the Birds each had to gauge their fire 
to avoid hitting their sister ship just beyond the Amaratsu. A lance of 
red fire announced the departure of a well aimed photon torpedo that 
found its mark at the nape of the neck of the Bird below, and the 
vulnerable plasma injectors there exploded on contact. The head of the 
Bird drooped, she fluttered and the head shot off the body, rolled 
clumsily, spewing sparklers of light; then seemed to stop still in 
space. The brainless body of the creature hurtled forward, blindly, 
overrunning her own head and devouring both in a fireball.

But Amaratsu did not notice. She moved on, curling up and over the top 
of the cluster of jostling ships like the tail of a scorpion. She was 
able to select her targets at this point in the battle. Alpha group was 
now fully through and circled back into the fray. Amaratsu was wedded to 
Meridian and Constitution. She followed Mir and Pantheon as they hung 
above and below off the stern of Constitution. Both her phase cannons 
brought to bear on the ‘wounded’ enemy the NX or her Neptune escorts 
punched holes in, holes just big enough for Amaratsu to sink a secondary 
attack on the weakened hull of a another BOP. Four BOP met their swift 
end with this tactic, before the strategy shifted.

When her cannons got too hot, Amaratsu laid back to providing aft 
coverage and Aurora slipped into position. Ammunition was precious, and 
every shot needed to count. Not every torpedo found a mark, even fewer 
made a kill. But the tenacious interwoven matrix of Starfleet ships was 
clearly a surprise to their enemies. The danger lay in predictability. 
Creativity could mean the difference between avoiding a shot, and 
steering directly into its path.


----------


[ Delta Group, ESS Intrepid, Astrometrics Lab ]

“The torpedo is in position,” reported Captain Vaughn over the intercom. 
  “Firing controls are being transferred.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Connors replied.  “Less than five minutes to detonation.”

Everett turned from the scope at his station, “Why do I feel like 
Oppenheimer?"

“That’s a stretch, isn't it?" Lowe responded, wearing that half-smile 
like he knew something no one else did.

Everett smirked, "Why, because /he's/ smart?"

"No," Connors shook his head, honestly.  "Well, that may be why Lowe 
said it, but it's a legitimate argument.  Oppenheimer detonated a device 
that would lead the way to killing millions.  We're just detonating a 
high-yield torpedo.  If we time it right, the Naussicaan navigation 
systems will pick up the anomaly, drop them from warp since they can't 
steer around, and that'll be that."

"So we're not killing them directly," Everett frowned, "but we'll still 
be responsible for dropping them in the laps of four large ships ready 
to blast them to Kingdom Come."

Lowe's brow dropped in confusion.  "And...?"

Connors mirrored the gesture, "Yeah, they're the enemy.  They wouldn't 
hesitate to do the same to us, that's /why/ they're the enemy."

Everett looked at Connors almost angrily.  "I don't like being a murderer."

"Three minutes," Lowe called.  "Any corrections to the calculations?"

Everett frowned again and looked through his scope.  "I've got a 
deviation of two-point-five times ten to the twenty-first.  Probably a 
gravity well from a red giant."  He keyed a few buttons on his station, 
examined the readout on the display, and returned to his scope. 
"Confirmed.  New heading variation from target perspective, point zero 
two three over point zero zero one.  Vector still true."

"Calculating," Lowe called, strangely emotionless as he worked a stylus 
over a PADD.  Finished, he shot his hand out to show the PADD to 
Connors.  "Reposition to these coordinates."

Despite the clock dangerously falling to zero, Connors remotely eased 
the torpedo to the new point in space.  "Confirm all," he called.

Everett released a hard sigh and looked into the scope.  "Data correct."

Lowe's eyes skimmed a display as the readings scrolled up the screen. 
"Data correct."

"Lock the solution."

Connors looked up at Everett.  The astrophysicist locked eyes in an 
uneasy plea.  Connors' eyes widened in angry surprise as he looked to 
the console in an unspoken order.  Everett took a deep breath and turned 
back to his station.  His finger pressed a single button.  "Solution 
locked," he said defeated.  "Twenty seconds."

A silent moment passed between the three scientists in the lonely room 
of steel and lights.  Connors keyed the intercom.  "Ten seconds," he 
said.  He watched as a light flickered on, indicating the channel was 
re-routed.  He was probably speaking to all of Delta Group.  "…five, 
four, three, two, one."

Another silent moment passed.

"All ships," came Fleet Captain Hawke over the intercom, "engage and 
destroy.  Fire at will."

"You did it, Science," Vaughn said.  "Now we'll take care of the rest."

The Intrepid shuddered violently as a bang rumbled through the deck 
plating.  The three scientists grabbed their consoles out of sheer 
instinctual reflex to steady themselves so as not be rocked to the floor.

The moment that passed was not silent, as they looked at each other with 
eyes wide...


-----
FCapt Ramirez, Diego
Commanding Officer
ESS Freedom, FCL-01
(apb Robert)

ESS Amaratsu
(apb Kate)

Lt Simon Connors
Science Officer
ESS Intrepid, NX-07
(apb Robert)