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Author Topic: Star Trek: Declaration  (Read 2771 times)

Offline sm12905

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Star Trek: Declaration
« on: 20 June 2009 10:50 AM »
Star Trek: Declaration

Summary: As the Borg begin their second attack of the federation, a new starship is launched. Little does its crew know of the trials that will await them. 

I’ve been writing this story for some time now, and I hope everyone enjoys it. This is my first serious piece of Trek fiction that is actually completely my work. (Mustang was mostly my work, but my brother did the storyline writing and spelling errors) I have spent a long time on it, so it should show through.

The USS Apollo was one of the oldest ships in fleet, an Oberth-class science ship. It had been patrolling the federation border since it was built almost a hundred years ago. Despite regular upgrades, it was definitely beginning to show its age.
On its bridge, Captain W’arp was quite busy trying to get back long-range communications. They had cut out almost a day before, and, so far, attempts to restore them had failed.
“Looks like the power supply on deck twelve cut out again.” The chief engineer stated. She was an attractive human female by the name of Megan.
“Try routing power through the secondary supply.” W’arp said.
“I’ll try.” Megan stated “But half of these systems are ready to give up already, without the extra strain.”
“I already know that. Kill power to the lighting on deck seven then try it again.”
“I’m already on it.” Megan said, moving to one of the backup consoles. They had long ago learned that the lighting on deck seven had been the source of all sorts of bugs on the aging ship, so shutting them off caused many problems to clear up on their own. As she stepped back from the console, she managed to stand right on the unfortunate captain’s tail.
“Yeouch!” he yelled, jumping into the air. The rest of the bridge crew, used to such interruptions, just grimaced. It was an almost every day happening on the ship, and the crew was used to their captain suddenly yelling and jumping in the air.
“You achieved a noise level of eighty decibels. I should advise you that continued exposure to noise at that level will cause damage to your hearing.” The Vulcan communications officer stated.
“Just shut up and try the radio again.” W’arp growled dangerously, coiling his injured appendage safely around himself.
The bridge speakers crackled for a second, then fell silent again.  But not before W’arp’s sensitive ears heard something in the static-something that definitely wasn’t static.
“That sounded like someone trying to hail us.” He announced. “Try to filter it out.”
“The repair attempts have knocked the antenna out of sync. The entire set needs re-calibrated, Captain. That will take two point eight hours.” The communications officer reported.
“Someone was trying to hail us now! Get the computers on filtering it out.” W’arp demanded, snatching up the spare earpiece.
For a second, there was nothing legible, then the message became clearer.
“Apollo, this Starfleet… we have detected a… vessel closing on your… extremely dangerous, do not engage, repeat, do not… fleet in Typhoon, try… Apollo, do you copy? We have a ….”
“Can you improve this any?” W’arp asked.
“That is the best this computer is capable of doing.” The communications officer responded.
“Well, get to work on re-calibrating this thing. If it’s that important, they’ll hail us again.”
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the operations officer, a young trill.
“Captan! An unknown object just entered sensor range- it’s moving at Warp 9.95, apparent mass… Captain; you won’t believe this- apparent mass two hundred thousand tons.”
“We’ve seen stranger things out here. Bring us around to intercept course: 306 mark 24, and raise the shields.”
“No need to, captain. It’s changing course to intercept us.” The ensign reported.
“Arm phasers and photon torpedoes.” He hit the shipwide intercom button on the arm of his command chair. The lights darkened as the red alert klaxon sounded.
“All hands, this is the captain. This is not a drill.  All hands go to battle stations. Repeat, all hands go to battle stations.”
“Captain, the object is entering visual range.”
The screen wavered, and then changed. A huge vessel filled the screen, thousands of times the size of the Apollo. Its dark hull was almost invisible against the stars, but here and there, a pale green light illuminated the hull a sickly color. It was a Borg cubeship.
 “Helm, get us out of here, Maximum warp. Fire photon torpedoes.” W’arp stated, keeping his eyes on the ship and pulling his tail out of danger.
Three streaks of orange light lashed out from the Apollo’s secondary hull. These torpedoes carried Type-6 antimatter warheads, weapons that could vaporize half a planet. But they were futile. Seconds away from impact, they struck the shields of the Borg vessel, detonating harmlessly.
At the same time, space seemed to stretch around the Apollo as the great stardrive at its heart activated. Then it was gone in a flash of light, speeding through space at almost sixty times the speed of light.
But only for a second. Then the Borg vessel lashed out with a single beam of energy. The Apollo came out of warp, listing and bleeding superheated plasma from a severed pylon.
“We’ve lost the starboard nacelle pylon, captain! We’re venting plasma!” someone reported.
“We’ve lost the warp drive!” Megan shouted.
“Transfer torpedo control to…”
The ship rocked as the Borg fired again. The port pylon vanished in a flash of fire. The secondary hull, no longer attached, floated away from the ship before it, too, was engulfed in fire.
“We lost the secondary hull and warp core. The shields are compromised.” The operations officer reported.
“They’re hailing us!” someone yelled.
“Onscreen!” W’arp yelled.
The screen wavered to show the looming Borg cube. The speakers seemed to echo as if a thousand voices repeated in perfect synch “We are the Borg. Lower your shield and surrender your ship. Resistance is futile.”
“Now see here, whoever you are. We are the federation, and we do not surrender to Anything. Got that?”
W’arp looked around, surprised at his engineer showing such determination.
“We are the Borg. Lower your shield and surrender your ship. Resistance is…” The subspace radio, already badly damaged, finally died. The Borg were cut off in mid-sentence.
“We’re not going down without a fight. Fire phasers.” W’arp stated, sliding into the now-vacant helm console.
The Apollo’s phasers lashed out feebly, barely even reaching the almost impenetratable Borg shields. The Borg ship struck again, and all that remained of the tiny ship dissolved in a flash of light.  W’arp’s last thought, even as his soul fled the circles of the mortal world, was that they hadn’t even managed to warn Starfleet.

Utopia Planetara- The great shipyards of the federation.
This was the place where the great starships were born, and the place where they came to die. It stretched for thousands of miles, filling the orbit of the small world below. Thousands of separate docking pylons held hundreds of different starships. Freshly-gleaming tritanium beams marked the freshly-laid keels of the next generation of federation starships. In other places, gouts of flame from cutting phasers and flying shards of ancient metal marked where aged ships had been towed to their last berth and were now being broken up.
Above one of those berths, a shuttle hovered.  The occupants looked sadly down upon the remains of a Miranda-class light cruiser, now cut down to little more than a few tritanium bones.
“It was a good ship, Captan. I was glad to have had the chance to serve on it for a time.” Uzil stated. He was an Edosian- an odd-looking creature, and, like all members of his race, he had three arms and three legs.
“I had hoped that I would command it one day.” Captain Jill Woodward replied. She was a tall, attractive woman of about twenty-five, and noted as one of Starfleet’s more inventive captains. Although those who said that of her generally meant that she had a penchant for doing things the unusual, and usually harder, way.
“Well, considering the condition that your father left it in, it’s no surprise they decided to scrap it.” Uzil replied. “He had the subspace emitters about falling out of the nacelles.”
“And the English replicators.” Jill said, smiling. The replicators had gained that nickname after they began producing a cup of tea whenever anyone ordered coffee or hot chocolate.  The fact that ordering tea produced a cheese sandwich had irritated the crew to no end.
“Well, you’ve got a brand-new ship to command now.” Uzil noted.
“Which reminds me- I’m supposed to be going to it.” Jill said. “We can’t hang around here all day.”
 “Aye, captain.” Uzil stated. The shuttle gained speed, dodging between  larger ships. 
As the shuttle cleared the shipping lane, they got their first good look at the new ship. It was the USS Declaration, a Saber-class frigate, one of the federation’s newest ships. Only six decks high, the little ship was built for maneuverability and speed. The sleek lines marked a ship intended to be an interceptor.

“Shuttle to Declaration. Requesting permission to bring the captain aboard.” Uzil stated into the communications panel.
“Declaration to shuttle. We are opening the shuttle bay doors, you may come aboard at your leisure.” the panel responded.
The shuttle slid gracefully over the primary hull, passing over the main phaser array, before dropping between the warp nacelle and secondary hull. Suddenly, the shuttle skewed violently sideways. Jill was nearly thrown against the wall. Uzil, slightly better prepared, clung to his chair, hanging on with two arms as he calmly steered the ship with the third. The artificial gravity quickly compensated as the shuttle ceased its sideways travel. Jill climbed back in her seat, muttering something under her breath that sounded like “Showoff!”
The shuttle slid smoothly backwards through the open shuttle bay doors- an incredibly hard maneuver. However, Uzil was a skilled pilot, and within seconds, the shuttle came to rest with a thud as the shuttle bay door closed and the bay began to pressurize.
Almost a minute later, the computer beeped the signal that the bay was pressurized. Jill slid the door open and stepped out into the tiny shuttle bay. The interior door opened, and two figures in Starfleet uniforms strode in.
“Captain Jill Woodward, I presume?”  The taller one, a human, inquired. “I’m Commander Daniel Kendrick.” He stated, stepping forward to shake hands.  He was tall, even for a human, and Jill couldn’t help but notice that he was extremely handsome.
“So you’re my first officer?” Jill asked, shaking hands.
“I presume so. I helped build the ship, so I guess Starfleet figured I should get a chance at commanding it…  Oh, I almost forgot- this is our ship’s councilor, R’eth.”   He stated, turning to the other officer. She was short- at least a head shorter than Jill. Her distinctive, cat-like features and short body fur marked her as a Caitian, a minor race of the federation. 
Unlike some inconsiderate people, Jill understood that Caitians were an intelligent, thinking race- unrelated to the Earth cats they all-too-much resembled. They were also a dangerous race- their claws, natural agility, and faster reaction times made them more than a match for many humans.
“Hello.” R’eth said, extending her hand cautiously.
“Hi!” Jill stated, shaking hands. “Isn’t councilor an odd position for a Caitian? Most of your people seem to be in communications and engineering.”
“I’m a telepath, and, besides, I really enjoy helping people.” R’eth said.
The conversation was suddenly interrupted when the lights turned a brilliant purple. The alert klaxon sounded.
“That’s the main dock alert! Something’s big time wrong!” Dan almost-yelled. “The last time they sounded the main alert was five years ago, before the battle of Wolf 395.”
That, Jill knew, had been the worst defeat the federation ever suffered. A single gigantic ship, controlled by a cybernetic race known as the Borg, had defeated an entire fleet of the Federation’s most advanced battleships. Even Earth’s own, built-in defenses had failed to damage the ship. The planet had only been saved by the brave actions of an android Starfleet officer, who had risked his life to connect his mind with that of a captured Borg drone, allowing him to put the entire ship to sleep. Defeated, the Borg ship had self-destructed.
“We should get to the bridge.” Jill stated. “Uzil?”
“Yes?” the Edosian replied, leaning out the door of the shuttle, which he had been shutting down.
“Do you want to pilot the ship or not?”
“Yes, Sir!” he stated, jumping gracefully down to the deck and closing the shuttle’s door. Jill was once again shocked that anything with three legs and three arms could be so incredibly graceful.
The four officers ran for the door, which opened automatically. The hallway beyond was crowded with crewmen rushing in a dozen different directions.  They somehow made it to the turbolift, but only after getting their toes tramped on at least twice, and the shy R’eth sad something rather unrepeatable at a crewman who mistook her tail for a deckplate. At last, they managed to duck into a turbolift.
“Bridge!” Dan ordered.
“Does this ship always get this confused when we go to alert?” Uzil asked.
“Not usually. We’ve a lot of engineering teams aboard, putting on the finishing touches, and they have to return to the dock when we go to alert.” Dan responded
“…and that means they’re using the cargo transporter in the cargo bay.” Jill noted. “So they’re crowding into the engineering hull.”
“Any idea what’s going on?” Dan inquired of R’eth.
“No more than you do.” R’eth responded.
“You’re a telepath. Can’t you just read someone’s mind and find out?” Dan asked.
“I can try, but I’m not that good.” R’eth responded, closing her eyes and concentrating. The expression on her face went from calm, to confused, then to terrified. She snapped back to the waking world with a screech of terror.
“I…I” she began, stopping to calm herself before trying again. “I tried to sense the admiral, but all I could sense was panic- and fear. Tremendous fear. Whatever it is, Admiral Haynes is terrified of it.”
“I know the Admiral personally. It would have to be something really bad for him to be scared.” Jill said.
The conversation was interrupted when the turbolift doors opened with a whoosh, to reveal the Declaration’s command bridge. The Declaration, like all Saber-class ships, had a small, efficient bridge. The outer wall was ringed with consoles, leaving barely enough space between them for the doors to the ready room and turbolift. In the center a circular depression housed the command chairs, helm console, and starship operations.  Behind the captain’s chair, the tactical console served double duty as both a console and the headrest of the captain’s chair.
“Captain on the bridge!”  The young man at the Tactical console announced.
“At ease!” Jill responded, striding to the captain’s chair. R’eth took one of the multipurpose chairs to the captain’s right, and Dan took the first officer’s chair to her left.
“The admiral is hailing us on emergency channel, sir.” The Operations officer reported. He was an older human, probably on his last tour of duty before retiring.

“Onscreen” Jill said.
 The screen wavered, and changed to show the admiral’s office.  Admiral Hayes sat behind his desk, typing frantically at a console. The screen beeped and he looked up.

“Captain Woodward?” he stated “We have some trouble here. Two days ago, we detected an enemy ship on the long-range sensors. It’s on course for earth.”
“Why put the docks on alert for just one ship?”
The admiral looked up from his console grimly, and spoke three words. The last three words any Starfleet captain ever wanted to hear.

“It’s the Borg.” He stated.

Well, what does everyone think?
Also, I would appreciate it if anyone could point any Spelling, Punctuation, or Grammar mistakes I may have made.

Offline Zach

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Re: Star Trek: Declaration
« Reply #1 on: 20 June 2009 03:51 PM »
I just read through this.  Really good man!  Keep going

Offline BLZBUB

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Re: Star Trek: Declaration
« Reply #2 on: 21 June 2009 07:32 AM »
 I can only echo Zachs response. Really good man!  Keep going.
Fleet Admiral BLZBUB,
Fleet Commanding Officer,
Lotus Fleet

Offline sm12905

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Re: Star Trek: Declaration
« Reply #3 on: 22 June 2009 09:55 AM »
Well, I’ve got the next chapter edited, and here it is! Not much action, but the next few chapters should more than make up for that.


The admiral looked up from his console grimly, and spoke three words. The last three words any Starfleet captain ever wanted to hear.
“It’s the Borg.” He stated
Jill summed up what everyone was thinking in two words.
“Oh, no.”
 “Don’t worry -The Borg won’t be doing any repeats of the last time around.  We’re assembling a fleet in Typhoon sector to deal with them. Were using every possible vessel.”
“Didn’t we do that last time around, and they still clobbered us?”
“Yes, but we’ve upgraded the fleet since then- the fleet will be mostly Sabers, Ankinas, Steamrunners, even a few of those new Norway-class ships, and the Defiant.”
“Most of those are pretty small ships, sir. What chance do they have of taking on a cubeship?” Dan asked.
“The Defiant was designed and built to fight the Borg. It’s equipped with Starfleet’s most advanced technology.  And it will be backed up by almost every ship Starfleet has. I hope that Declaration will be there to help.”
“We’ll be there, sir, even if I have to pick the ship up and carry it.” Jill stated.
“I’ll be watching for you. Starfleet out.”
The screen faded to reveal the spacedock.
Jill punched a button on the armrest of the captain’s chair. “Captain to engineering. What’s our status?”
 For a second, there was nothing but silence. Then a voice came across the intercom. “Almost ready, captain. We’ll be ready for launch in about two days.”
“We don’t have two days, mister. I need to have this ship battle-ready in two hours.”
“Two hours, captain?”
“We’re having another round with the Borg.”
“Give us fifteen minutes to align the torque sensors and we’ll be ready.”
“Then why’d you say two days?”
“The corridor paneling for Deck 4 is in the cargo bay.”
“Oh. Anything else I should know about?”
“No, Captain.”
“That’s very reassuring, engineering. Bridge out.” Jill stated, closing the channel. “Commander Kendrick, you have the bridge. I’m going to be cooking up a few surprises for the Borg.”
In the Declaration’s ready room, Jill was busy unpacking. Or, more literally, throwing her stuff into the shelves, loading her programs on the computer terminal, and affixing a hook to the wall for her hat. The next captain would probably be upset about the industrial-strength glue she used for the hook, but that would be his problem.
If there ever is another captain. What chance do we have against a Borg cubeship?
Don’t think that. We stand as much chance as any other ship.
What chance does the entire federation stand? You were there. You saw what happened last time.
And I won’t let then do that again-
At that opportune moment, the stack of books she had been placing on the bookshelf decided of it’s own accord to fall off. She grabbed at it, and managed to catch most of them. As if sensing her precarious position, the door beeped.
“Um…You may not wish to come in. There’s about to be an avalanche.”
The door opened to reveal R’eth standing there. Quickly sizing up the situation, she rushed over and lifted the box to a much safer location on the floor.
“Thanks.” Jill said, stuffing a small box of forgotten origin and purpose beside the books before hitting the shield control. A force field crackled into place around the shelves, keeping the books safely sealed.
“I get the feeling that you’re here about something more serious than minor avalanches.” Jill stated, setting a computer game cartridge on her desk.
“Captain, this crew is scared. They’re going into a battle with an enemy that easily defeated them the last time around.”  R’eth said
“You seem to have a gift for understatement.” Jill noted. “That wasn’t ‘easily defeated’, that was a massacre.”
“Captain, the crew needs to see their captain on the bridge, getting the ship ready, getting a few surprises together, and making rude comments about the Borg.”
“Mentioning surprises, I’ve got one up my sleeve.” Jill said, spinning her personal console around. “I’m ordering eight tricobalt devices delivered to the ship.”
“I’m no expert on these matters, but I thought the tactical officer said we can only fire two of those at a time.”
“That’s right. But I’m loading the other six into a shuttlecraft.” Jill said, hitting the ‘run’ button on the console. “I’m also loading them with a portable computer, which can handle flying the ship.” When we engage the Borg…” she trailed off as the simulation began to play. Two dozen federation vessels attacked the cubeship. The Declaration swooped in low over the surface, pounding away at the shields with its phasers. Suddenly, fire erupted from the starboard nacelle, trailing through space. The ship went into a wild downward spin. Several escape pods jettisoned, and a pair of shuttles slid from the shuttlebay. They fell toward the Borg cube, apparently without power as they passed through the shields.
Then they exploded. The cubeship seemed to become a second sun as, caught in the power of a hyperfision explosion, it waned, passed, and was gone. The Declaration flew through the rubble, unscathed.
“I’ve run this a few times, and it seems to perform perfectly every time.” Jill said, punching the ‘end’ key. “The shuttle bay crew are working on rigging up the system right now. ”
“I wouldn’t know if it would work or not, but it sounds ...” R’eth said. She was interrupted when Jill’s combage suddenly announced “Bridge to Captain Woodward.”
Jill slapped her combage, the generally-accepted method for hitting it’s ‘on’ button. “Yes?”
“We’ve finished evacuating non-essential personnel. The Declaration is Go for launch whenever you give the word.” Dan stated.
“I’ll be right there.” Jill stated, striding for the door.
The bridge was in a state of controlled chaos. Two crewmen were at the docking control station, preparing to begin the undocking sequence. The viewscreen revealed ships of every shape and size casting away walkways, access hatches, and power cables in preparation for launch. Already, the huge form of the Galaxy-class starship Carolina had cleared its moorings and was heading for open space.
“Captain on the bridge!” Dan said, getting out of the command chair.
“At ease.” Jill responded, ducking under the bridge railing and climbing into the captain’s chair. R’eth, being more dignified, took the time to walk around.
“Well, captain, we’ve finished requisitioning everything we need, and operations reports that we have permission to depart.” Dan reported, keying up the departure pattern on his screen. “But I have no clue what the extra Tricobalts are for- we won’t have time to load them doing the battle.”
“I got a surprise up my sleeve with them.” Jill said, punching the intercom button on her console. “Bridge to Engineering.”
“Chief engineer Jethro here, captain.” A voice came back in an unmistakable Andorian accent.
“Jethro? Isn’t that an odd name for an Andorian?”  Jill asked.
“My actual name is hard for humans to pronounce, captan. So the crew gave me what they call a ‘nickname’.”
“But why Jethro?”
“I do not know myself.”
“Oh…  getting back on subject, you have the tricobalt devices aboard?”
“I’ve been wondering about those.”
“Have them transported to the shuttlebay and installed in two of the small shuttles. You’ll need to rig them for remote detonation.”
“I see. And when we get knocked out of the fight, we shoot them off with faked life-signs, and when  the Borg  see them..”
“They’ll pull them in to be assilamated. Once they’re inside the shields-”
 “Aye, captan. I’ll get on it right away. Engineering out.”  Jethro said, closing the channel.
Jill looked up from her monitor. “Alright. Clear the moorings. ”
The Declaration shuddered as airlock walkways were retracted. Excess plasma bled into space as the docking power lines detached and were cast off.  Suddenly, the mooring beams that had held the little ship in safely since before its inception were cut off. The Declaration hung in space, alone and unaided for the first time.
“Moorings are clear, captain. We are on our own! ” the ensign at the docking station reported.
“Ops?” Jill asked, using the slang term for starship operations.
“Everything functioning normally.” Wane reported. “Engine systems stable, power levels normal.”
“Helm, take us out. One-quarter impulse.” Jill ordered.
The Declaration began to move forward, slowly at first, then gaining speed.  It slid majestically out of the docks, its great engines slowly coming alive. It slid into the pattern of ships leaving the planet, threading between two bigger ships as it headed toward open space.
“How’s it handle?” Jill inquired of Usil.
“I never thought Starfleet would best the old NX-class starships, but I think-” He paused long enough to sidestep a larger starship that was apparently intent on sailing right through them. “- I think they finally outdid them.”
“You flew an NX-class?” Jill asked, looking shocked. The NX class starships had lived and died almost three hundred years before, helping to found the federation.
“I flew NX-23 through the Romulan War.” Uzil said, keeping his attention on the controls.
“Exactly how old are you?” Dan put in, looking shocked.
“Five hundred years, next month.” Usil said calmly. “Captain, we are now clear to go to warp speed.”
“Set course for the Typhoon sector, maximum warp.” Jill ordered, quickly adding, “And raise the shields.”
“Course set.” Uzil reported.
“Shields raised.” The officer at the tactical console added.
“Warp Speed.” Jill ordered.
Space itself stretched around the Declaration. Superhot plasma from the warp core surged through the main engines. Then the ship was gone, leaving even the lights of the spacedock far behind.

Offline sm12905

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Re: Star Trek: Declaration
« Reply #4 on: 16 July 2009 06:05 AM »
Well, I kind of wrote myself into a logical corner here, and it took me a while to get out of it, but I finaly have the third chapter ready.
As I promised, there is a lot more action in this chapter as the Borg finally turn up.

The Declaration’s officer’s mess was a rather small room, designed more for utility than comfort. Jill had often heard it said that when designing the Saber-class starships, the designers had forgotten to include Thean officer’s mess and jammed one in were a guest quarters had originally been.  Whatever the case, it was really too small for the ship’s complement, and could get rather crowded at times, Jill noted as she walked through the door. The second watch had relieved the bridge crew, and apparently most of them had gone to get something to eat before heading to their quarters.  She stepped in the door and headed for the bank of food replicators-
Only to almost collide with something large-ish, furry, and wearing a Starfleet uniform, headed the same direction.
“Hey!” Jill said.
“My apologies, Captain.” R’eth said quickly. “A large glass of water, please?” this second comment confused Jill until she realized it was directed at the replicator.
“Please specify temperature.” The machine stated. For being one of the most efficient, intelligent matter-synthesizing devices ever invented, replicators could be remarkably stupid.
“Any temperature!”
A transporter field sparkled in the replicator bin, leaving behind a large glass of water. R’eth grabbed it and downed it in one swallow.
Jill turned and scanned the mess hall. Almost instantly, she spotted Dan, sitting by himself in one corner. Her first officer was looking amused about something, and, from the fact the other chair at the table was still spinning, Jill guessed that it had something to do with R’eth’s haste in getting to the replicators. She moved over to the table.
“Captain!” Dan said, looking up. Jill could see that he was eating some sort of Z-shaped substance that apparently had once been part of an avian life form.
“What did you do to my ship’s councilor?” she demanded.
“Nothing much.”Dan said, watching R’eth consume most of a glass of water in one gulp.
“What was it?” Jill demanded in her best I-will-use-force-if–necessary voice.
“Nothing much. She just asked what these were I was eating.” Dan said, stopping long enough to drop one in a container of darkish-red liquid before consuming it.
“I said they were chicken wings. She asked if she could try one.” Dan continued. “So I gave her one. She ate it and seemed to dislike it, considering how fast she headed for the replicators.”
“What’s that substance?” Jill said, indicating the container of reddish liquid.
“Hot sauce.” Dan replied. “It’s the traditional-”
“That explains it.” Jill said. “You are aware that that stuff causes extreme discomfort to anyone not acclimated to it?”
“Yes. But I thought that Caitians liked spicy foods.” Dan stated.
“That’s salt that they are noted for-” Jill was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a transporter beam activating behind her. She spun, instinctively reaching for her phaser- only to grab empty air where her phaser would have been if she had been wearing one.
The three beings stood in a triangular formation, looking about them blankly. They were tall, probably once humans. Their skin was molted grey-black, punctured seemingly at random by various tubes and wires. Their bodies were covered in heavy black armor, interspersed with pieces of machinery. They were Borg drones, the foot soldiers of the Borg collective.
And the worst nightmare of every Starfleet officer.
Jill hit her combadge, wishing she would have worn her phaser. “Attention all hands-Intruder alert. There are Borg drones aboard this vessel.”
The lead drone advanced toward her, it’s electronic scanner-eye running over the rank marking on her collar.
“You are the commanding officer of this vessel.” It stated.
“Actually, I’m just a…”
“Presenting false information is futile. You will order your crew to stand down and prepare to be assilamated. ”
“Check your grammar. That was a misplaced modifier.” Jill stated.
The drone paused for a second as it ran an internal diagnostic. That second was all Jill needed to kick it in the stomach. Then everything dissolved into chaos.
Dan leaped clear across the table at another drone, landing his full weight on its right arm. Something crunched, and he hoped it had been the Borg’s assilamation unit. 
Jill ducked under another drone’s arm and hit it in the chin.
The drone responded by seizing Jill’s arm. She twisted away, but the drone’s electronic grip only tightened. Seeing an opportunity, she dropped to the floor and kicked up, driving the heel of her boot into the unarmored area beneath its arm.
She felt something crunch and the drone recoiled, releasing her arm.
She looked up just in time to see the drone glow brightly, then vanish, leaving only a pile of ash on the deck plates. Then something hit her like a ton of bricks, and she passed out.
 Ambassador-class starship Meridian had been headed for earth at warp five, its maximum safe speed with its outdated and overstressed warp engines, when the distress call came in.
A fleet of Starfleet’s finest vessels, including some of its newest and finest vessels, had been met and destroyed in pitch battle by a single alien ship. 
The Meridian had raced to answer the distress call, but they never even got there. Still light-years away, a weird spherical ship had intercepted them. It hadn’t even bothered with negotiating- or the Meridian’s shields. Its single particle beam had blasted clear through them, touching off the deflector’s antiproton-charged dish. The front of the secondary hull had been blown clear off the ship, and the neck section had been vaporized instantly.
The saucer section must have tried to put up a fight, because the sphere had turned and calmly cut it in half down the centerline, setting off reactions and explosive decompression over every deck. It must have hit a self-destruct charge, because one half had exploded only seconds later, pounding the remaining pieces with the full force of a two-thousand megaton antimatter explosion.
The Borg ship had then calmly turned and warped out, seemingly unconcerned about the two hundred and fifty lives it had just ended.
Ensign Jill Woodward had been one of the fortunate few to survive. She had been manning the sciences console in auxiliary control, one of the few rooms to escape the explosive decompression that had claimed most of the crew. She, along with the handful of survivors, had managed to reactivate the warp drive, which had remarkably escaped severe damage, and proceed to a nearby Starbase.
Jill had been one of only twenty survivors. She remembered wandering the halls in shock, seeing the dead bodies of her friends and fellow Starfleet officers. She had vowed to never allow anything like that to happen again, no matter what it cost.

Slowly, the dream faded as Jill gradually awoke. She could hear voices in the background, discussing something rather important.
“I think she’s coming around.” A voice stated. She couldn’t recognize it.
“She may awaken any time now. However, she must remain in sickbay for at least another hour, while I complete an extensive cranial scan. It would not be logical to allow someone with brain damage to command a starship.” Another voice responded. “I am deactivating the primary regeneration field.”
“Ouch!” Jill said, opening her eyes, “What…happened? The ship?” at least it was supposed to be that. All that came out was “Eh…shp.” 
A hypospray pressed against her neck, and everything instantly became clearer. Jill sat up enough to see that Lieutenant Uzil, the ship’s pilot, was standing next to the Bio-bed.
“What happened?” Jill asked, “What hit me?”
“Your first officer. The Borg thought he’d make a good projectile.” Uzil stated.
“Did they win?” Jill asked
“We ‘won’. However, they managed to cause some injuries.” The ship’s doctor, S’telidin, said. He was a Vulcan, a federation race noted for their almost-complete lack of emotion and total devotion to logic.
 “I thought they couldn’t board us with the shields up.” Jill said. “And we’ve had shields up since we left the dock.”
“Well, apparently, we were incorrect.” The doctor stated.
“By the way, how is my first officer?” Jill asked.
“His skin changed an unusual color in a few areas, but otherwise he is unharmed.” Uzil said. “He’s on the bridge right now, preparing for the battle.”
“We’ve arrived at typhoon sector?”
“Ten minutes ago.” Uzil stated.
Jill instantly sat up, swinging her feet off the biobed. She stood up as best she could, still feeling quite wobbly. “I need to get to the bridge.”  she stated, leaning back against the biobed.
“You are not leaving this sickbay until I give you permission.” S’telidin stated, moving to intercept her.
“I’m perfectly fine.” Jill stated.
“In my professional opinion, you are not ‘Perfectly fine’.” 
“I am too, unless you want a commander who never seen a battle outside of a simulation to be commanding this ship when we engage the most vicious foe the federation has.” Jill stated, standing up.
“I would even less wish to go into a battle under the command of someone with a mild concussion.”
“Computer, medical restraining field, timer twenty seconds. Activate.” Jill ordered.
The forcefields that would have restrained an uncooperative patent appeared around the bio-bed. Unfortunately, they missed Jill, who had stood up. Unfortunately and intentionally, the ship’s doctor had his elbow within the confines of the field. The anti-kinetic field seized the aforementioned elbow with a force not even an enraged Klingon could overcome.
Jill headed for the door as fast as she could.
The trip to the bridge was far less eventful than they had expected. With all personnel at battle stations, the hallways were almost empty.  With the Edosian’s help, Jill managed to get to the turbolift before sagging against the wall and wishing she hadn’t decided she needed to be on the bridge.
 Then the doors opened, and she was forced to stand up and stride onto the bridge.  Which would have been easier if the bridge didn’t keep spinning around her.
“What’s the situation?” she asked, slumping against the bridge railing. Dan was in the command chair, and Jill instantly noticed that he had gained two black eyes as a result of the previous scuffle.
“We’re on the left of the main force, flanking the Pittsburg. Admiral Haynes has moved his flag there- I guess he figures that the Borg won’t go for a technologically inferior ship.”  Dan said.
“He’s inventive. How’s our surprise?”
“The shuttlebay just reported in that they’re ready.”
“Good. Weapons?”
“All weapons are armed. The torpedo launcher has loaded tricobalt devices.” The weapons officer reported.
“Captain! We’ve got something on sensors!” The operations officer reported, “It’s closing at warp eight!”
“That’ll be our unwanted guest. Target it as soon as it’s in weapons range” Jill ordered.
The space in front of the federation fleet seemed to tear. Suddenly, a gigantic Borg cubeship appeared.  It loomed over the assembled fleet, easily two hundred times their combined size.
 The hull appeared to be cobbled together from parts of several hundred starships, as well as the remains of several hundred other things. Jill thought she could see part of an old-fashioned skyscraper, now fused to the ship’s hull.  She wondered what people, on some forgotten world, had lived and worked there before the Borg had come, destroying everything in their path in their relentless quest to expand.
Suddenly, the Declaration’s speakers announced “We are the Borg. Lower your shields and surrender your ships. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile.

“Yea, sure.” Jill stated. “Fire all weapons.”
Well, what does everyone think?
« Last Edit: 16 July 2009 06:06 AM by sm12905 »

Offline sm12905

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Re: Star Trek: Declaration
« Reply #5 on: 07 August 2009 03:01 PM »
I’ve got the next chapter done, finally! I had a reasonable excuse for not working on this for a week though- I was at my church’s summer camp. Had an incredible lot of fun, and played way too much Halo 2. Thankfully, this chapter didn’t require that much editing (it’s the next one that’s going to need massive re-write.)

The space in front of the federation fleet seemed to tear. Suddenly, a gigantic Borg cubeship appeared.  It loomed over the assembled fleet, easily two hundred times their combined size. The hull appeared to be cobbled together from parts of several hundred starships, as well as the remains of many other things. Jill thought she could see part of an old-fashioned skyscraper, now fused to the ship’s hull.  She wondered what people, on some forgotten world, had lived and worked there before the Borg had come, destroying everything in their path with their relentless quest to expand.
Suddenly, the Declaration’s speakers announced  “We are the Borg. Lower your shields and surrender your ships. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile.”
“Yea, sure.” Jill stated. “Fire all weapons.”
Fire erupted from the Declaration’s phaser arrays, cutting into the Borg shields. All around them, the fleet opened fire. The Pittsburg spat torpedo after torpedo toward the Borg ship, unleashing a furry that could have destroyed an entire planet.
A tiny shimmer appeared just above the Borg shields as the starship Defiant, the federation’s most advanced battleship, dropped its cloaking device to launch torpedoes. 
But none of it came to any effect. The cubeship’s shields stood undaunted by the incredible furry of the federation fleet.  Even the massive tricobalt detonations, capable of vaporizing a small moon by themselves, were ineffective against the ship’s powerful shields.
Suddenly, it lashed out, striking the Carolina with a tractor beam. The giant Galaxy-class starship was dragged helplessly toward the Borg cube. A Miranda-class ship- tough, reliable smaller craft that had been used for over eighty years- dived bravely into the beam.  Instantly, the aged ship melted, its hull disintegrating into droplets of floating metal.
“Fire tricobalts.” Jill ordered, looking at the screen in shock. “Helm, get us in closer.”
The Declaration jumped forward, its forward launchers spitting out two of the most dangerous weapons the Federation had ever invented.  But they never hit. A cutting beam lashed out, striking them as they flew. They crashed out of subspace, drifting and unguided.
The Declaration cut behind one of the massive new Ankina-class starships, then sprang forward. It skidded along, barely above the cube’s shields, its phasers doing massive damage to the impenetrable Borg defenses.
Behind them, the Ankina exploded silently, victim of a cutting beam.
“Captain, their shields have been drained less than half a percent!” The operations officer reported. “We’ve lost the Temeraire and the Ankina, two more ships are heavily damaged. The Carolina is withdrawing.”
“Fire torpedoes!” Jill ordered. “Prepare to launch escape pods one through eight.”
“Aye.” R’eth said, keying up the controls on her monitor.
Suddenly, a Borg cutting beam lashed out. It struck the port phaser array, cutting clear through it and into the hull below.  The phaser beam faltered, and the power surged backwards into the power grid. EPS feeds blew out, causing explosions all over the ship.  On the bridge, control panels exploded, showering everyone in sparks.
“Damage report!” Jill barked.
“Hull breach on deck three. Automatic forcefields have sealed it off.” The operations officer noted.
“Weapons?” Jill asked. There was no response.
“Weapons-” Jill asked again, turning around to look at the weapons console. She suddenly stopped when she saw the weapons officer was lying on the floor, badly injured.
Dan jumped the railing and rushed to the fallen officer. He bent down for a second, then looked up and shook his head. From his expression, Jill knew that the officer was already dead.
“I’m sorry.” Dan stated.
“Get the tactical console. Maintain fire.” Jill ordered with a note of sadness in her voice. Dan got to his feet, but his next words were no consolation.
 “All weapons systems are offline.” He stated.
“Great.” Jill stated. “That’s just glorious. Ops, launch those escape pods.”
“Captain, the shuttle-bay is reporting in. The feedback surge melted the controls for the launch catapults. There’s no chance of launching until repairs are made.” R’eth stated.
The Declaration twisted violently, suddenly coming to a complete stop as a brilliant blue-green beam snapped out from the cubeship, dragging the hapless frigate in toward certain doom against the Borg shields.
 “What’s happening?” Jill snapped.
“I think the Borg just locked a tractor beam on our port nacelle.” The science officer reported.
“Can we disrupt it?”
“It’s a multi-phase graviton vacuum -I don’t think we can.”
“You know,” Dan said, looking up from his console, “Where I come from, we have these strange lizards. When a bird grabs their tail, it falls off, and the lizard gets away.”
“You mean…?” Jill asked, pondering the idea a moment. “Engineering, close off the plasma feeds to the port nacelle.”
“Captain, the Pittsburg and its escorts are breaking out of their position and heading our direction.” someone reported.
“Communications, tell them to back off!” Jill said as the ship shuddered again.
“We just lost our subspace radio!” the communications officer reported.
“Two more hull breaches on deck five! The entire section is depressurizing!”
The starship Pittsburg barreled forward, its launchers suddenly ceasing to fire.  A single phaser lanced from the primary array, pounding the Borg shields brutally, trying to drive through into the tractor beam emitters holding the Meridian.  The entire power output of the destroyer’s massive antimatter engines was channeled into the single, lethal line of phase energy connecting it to the cube.
But the Borg shields held fast. A beam lashed out from the cube, shearing one of the larger ship’s warp nacelles away. It floundered, bleeding plasma.
“Captain! The Pittsburg just lost main power!”  someone reported
“Bridge to Engineering. Mr. Jethro, We’re about to jettison our port nacelle.” Jill said.
“Captain, I’m not getting any-”
“ You have three seconds to rig the tractor beams for a doppelganger drive. Bridge out!”
 “Alright. Computer, nacelle jettison authorized, Authorization: Woodard gamma twelve.” Jill said. Her eyes were glued to the viewscreen.
Another beam lashed out from the Borg ship, striking one of the Pittsburgh’s escorts. It caught the smaller ship in its engineering hull, searing through shields, hull and warp reactor. The ship seemed to hang in space, then vanished as an explosion claimed it.
“Authorization of Ship’s Operations Officer required.” The computer stated.
“Authorization: Wane, delta, seven, twelve.” The operations officer stated. “Firing separation charges.”
“Helm! Warp speed!” Jill barked.
Subspace around the Declaration stretched as the stardrive activated, pulling futility against the Borg beam. Explosions rippled across the surface of the hull, tearing the port nacelle from the ship. The Declaration sprang away, leaving the single nacelle tumbling toward the cubeship.
Even as they sprang away, another beam lanced out from the cubeship. It touched the Pittsburgh’s torpedo launcher, and three hundred torpedoes went off inside the ship’s hull.  Huge sections of the ship were ripped away. The two launchers above the bridge exploded with the furry of a small sun, tearing the back off the primary hull.
Jill stared at the screen in shock.
“Captain, the Pittsburg just-”
The torpedo launcher under the Pittsburgh’s engineering hull exploded, tearing the navigational deflector to shreds and flinging the pieces across space. The forward part of the saucer, no longer connected, drifted away from the burning engineering hull. But still it persisted, a stubborn ship unwilling to die.
Them another beam lanced out, touching the underside of the engineering hull. The beam tore through the side of the warp core, and the great fires that once fueled the Pittsburg now claimed the ship.
I know that was a bit of a short chapter, but it was the only good stopping point for quite a distance. Once again, comments and critiques (even if it is just pointing out, politely, what you think I did wrong) are very welcome!