Date: Mon, 4 Mar 1996 11:15:37 -0500 (EST) From: Echo <srati@indiana.edu> Subject: USS OBERON: One Last Grab for Life SD: 80303.1030 She clung to Descartes' limp form with one arm, trying to mask the fact that her eyes were still filled with tears. She could feel his shallow breathing, knew that he was clinging tenuously to life, and that it was her fault. He'd been reacting to her feelings when he'd thrown himself at Richard. Though Descartes had, perhaps, saved Adam Crow's life... If he died, what did it really matter what became of the OBERON anyway? She didn't really believe that... did she?? > "Iona..." warned Adam. > > "Iona!" called out Thomas. > > And then Lieutenant Iona Zinoviev made her decision.... Iona looked down at her console, reading the rapid approach of the airborne Fataloxin to the drive section of the ship. Most of the saucer section, especially the bridge, was already overrun. It was unstoppable. Adam was wrong, she realized... if they didn't take action immediately, they would all be dead, no matter what became of Docking Latch Four. But Adam was also right, for if that dangerous maneuver failed, they'd also be dead... Iona scanned over the readings with the uncaring glance of someone who wasn't sure if she cared whether she lived or died. There was another way, she realized. Though there would damage, she could direct it such that the drive section was unharmed. "Setting the docking relays on feedback," she declared, as if that had been what she was ordered to do. She pressed a few keys with her free right hand, still cradling Descartes against her with the left. "Five seconds to explosion." Adam and Thomas looked at her in surprise. "But that will--" "Four seconds," Iona continued. "Three." "Two." "One." ********** Ten men or so, the last of the skeleton crew rushed in a panic to the transporter rooms for emergency beamout. No one had told them exactly why they were evacuating, but the uncanny mob instinct told them that they were running with death on their heels. [Warning. Docking relays on feedback. Brace for explosion in aft saucer section. Possible decompression danger] The computer announced sweetly, red alert lights suddenly flashing. Some of the crewmen scattered, turning away from the aft transporter rooms to shield themselves from the blast. They ran back into the corridor, right under the ventilation shaft as the Fataloxin finally leaked out. As the explosion rocked the ship, those few remaining who had not died in agony were blown into blackness. ********** The drive section burst free from the saucer, throwing the battle bridge crew to the floor for the second time as the intertial compensators fought with the sudden changes. Iona fell with her body wrapped around Descartes, shielding him from almost all the jarring impact. He whimpered slightly and continued breathing. She pulled herself up and pressed a few keys, now running helm and and science from the battle bridge science station. "Stabilized," she declared. "Drive section is unharmed. Running sensors on saucer section." "On screen," Thomas ordered. "Aye, sir." The screen flickered to life as Iona looked at her readings and gasped. "I... I hadn't intended to..." The gaping hole in the aft saucer section was terrifyingly awesome. The disk of the OBERON hung in space, scored with black from the explosion. There would be no reconnecting after this was over. "No life signs," Iona said flatly. "It appears that ten crewmen were not able to evacuate. All of them have been lost. Saucer section life support has failed. Most remaining Fataloxin has leaked harmlessly into space. "The drive section is unharmed?" Thomas asked levelly. Iona checked her readouts again. "Yes," she replied. "And there is no evidence that any of the evacuees carried the Fataloxin with them." There was a muted release of breath from the bridge crew. "Then you made the best decision, Lieutenant," Thomas replied. Iona looked at him, filled with solemn gratitude. She turned to Adam, eyes filled with desperation, and he offered her a single, reassuring nod. The damage had been done, but it could have been much worse. They'd saved a lot of lives. "I'm just glad Lanni isn't here to see this..." Thomas murmurred. "Where do we go on from here?" Gwenyth inquired. Adam turned to her, still straining against pain, despite the drugs. "Now we find Parker." Respectfully Submitted, Susan Rati Lt. Iona Zinoviev CSciO, USS OBERON NRPG: There ya go, decision made. Hope everyone approves :). Over to you men. Jason: What was that about Gwenyth being able to help with Descartes? > There's more on my side to do, I know. I hope to do it > later...sickness can really take it out of you. :( I'm pooped...and this > is nothing like my usual posts.... *sigh* Matt: Sorry to hear you're sick! Don't worry about the short posts. At this stage of the action-heavy climax stuff, I think short posts are better. It allows all of us to contribute to the action regularly. Get well soon.