At Steep Cost: The Evacuation of Servin VII

DePoe_ · September 3, 2016, 12:00am

PART ONE

STARDATE: 89388.1 (May 12, 2412)
TIME: 01:22:14
LOCATION: Captain's Quarters, USS Leyte Gulf, docked with Deep Space K-7

Steven rolled over in his cramped bunk bed and sighed. Two months into his new command, and he was still getting adjusted to a new ship. And a new crew. He hadn't even been able to get fully comfortable with command of the Calabria before Starfleet pulled him and his senior staff and reassigned them to the Leyte. They still hadn't explained fully why, but he suspected it was because he wanted to fight on the front lines, not guard Sol, as important as that job was.

DePoe's attempt to roll over again was interrupted by the beep of the ships comm and the slightly strained, but controlled voice of the lieutenant who was watch officer currently on the bridge calling him.

"Bridge to Captain DePoe, sorry to wake you sir, but there's an emergency."

DePoe sat straight up- and ended up bumping his head rather hard on the low ceiling of the bunk. Swearing to himself, he shook off the pain and answered the call, "DePoe here, what's the problem?"

"Sir, ten minutes ago K-7 command received a distress call from an independent colony in the Servin system. They say they are under attack from Klingon raiders. The whole fleet's being scrambled to assist."

No wonder the lieutenant sounded strained, "The whole fleet? To repel a raid? Isn't that a little much?"

"Well, um, I'm sorry sir, you should probably come up here. There's more than just a few B'rel's attacking the colony."

DePoe sighed again, 'Very well. Bring the ship to battlestations, I'll be on the bridge in ten minutes. DePoe out."

About 3 seconds after the comm clicked off, the comm beeped again, but this time instead of it being directed to just the Captain, it was the public address system, signaling the whole crew with that same lieutenant's voice: "Red Alert, all hands man battle stations. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill." Right as the words were spoken, the red alert klaxon sounded, its loud, throaty insistence permeating the otherwise quiet ship.

Activating the lights with a command to the computer, Steven opened his closet to grab a fresh uniform...

DePoe_ · September 28, 2016, 12:00am

PART TWO

STARDATE: 89388.1 (May 12, 2412)
TIME: 01:33:26
LOCATION: Bridge, USS Leyte Gulf, docked with Deep Space K-7

Steven stepped onto the bridge, the industrial sounding hum of the starboard-side door sliding shut behind him was all but drowned out by the buzz of activity and nervous voices of the crew around him, making preparations. While DePoe's command staff was experienced, most of the Leyte's crew was as new as the ship itself, and while they were well trained, and had seen some combat, the scale of the conflict seemed to have rattled them a little. There was almost a desperate edge to how the crew went about its duties. With the ship about to go into battle, DePoe knew he needed to do something, or else things may escalate further, until the crew just falls apart.

"Captain on the bridge!" came the shout from his right, along the starboard crew stations there. Glancing in that direction, he noticed that the voice came from a young ensign that he recognized, but could not remember the name of. Even with such a small crew, DePoe still had trouble placing faces with names at times.

“As you were,” was his response to the announcement, as it had caused the bridge to quiet and the crew to all look up at him briefly. After a moment’s hesitation at the order, the din on the bridge resumed its previous level, and the crew resumed their preparations.

As DePoe moved to take his seat, another voice, this time of Commander Thryiss Yhadi, his first officer and operator of the Leyte’s second tactical station on the port side of the bridge, called to him. As he looked up, he saw the Andorian woman walking up to him, the expression on her face one that he instantly read as meaning she wanted to talk to him. When she was within earshot, she managed to put her head close to his without it looking conspicuous, and she whispered, “Preparations are almost complete sir, but I don’t know if you could tell, but the scale of what we’re about to do has the crew rattled. They’ll need reassurance before we join the fleet and head for Servin.” Her voice was tight, but controlled. The woman was a veteran of several engagements throughout her career, and like DePoe, before switching to command, she had served as a tactical officer. Those things, along with her natural ability to read the crew’s mood made her invaluable as his XO, especially at times like this.

DePoe whispered back, though not quite as gracefully as she did “Yes, I did notice it, Commander. Don’t worry, I plan to address the crew as we get underway.” Seemingly satisfied with this response, she nodded once, then asked in a much louder voice “Orders, captain?”

DePoe answered “Request clearance for departure and notify the crew we’ll be getting underway.” Commander Yhadi gave a nod of assent and returned to her station to carry out her orders. After a moment she replies “Sir, K-7 has cleared us for departure, and engineering reports all engines are ready.”

“Very good,” DePoe replied as he took his seat in the Captain’s chair. “Clear all moorings and release docking clamps. Helm, once we’re released, bow thrusters at full until we’ve cleared the station, then make full impulse to our assigned vector in formation.”

“Aye sir,” said his Benzyte Flight Controller, typing the proper commands into his console. Quickly, the Leyte debarked from the docking port, and within a few moments she was making her way to the rest of the MACO 12th Fleet, assembling at the edge of the Sherman System.