The Seventh Trinity/Chapter 3
From UNICOMP, the Universal Compendium
Chapter 3: The Titan's Last Fight
"What the hell?"
President Palmer had plenty of thoughts in the two seconds between seeing the battle open up after dropping out of warp and flying off his feet onto the deck.
"Red Alert! Bring us about!"
Captain Riker jumped over the railing onto the lower part of the deck to help Palmer to his feet.
"I'm fine, Captain," Palmer said, "Can't we talk to them, or something?"
Riker braced himself during the next impact. "No response to hails, except from the Galactica. They have taken position behind us, but the Titan is a third the size of the Galactica...we can't protect her on our own against...that!"
Palmer remembered that the Titan B was a Luna-class starship, and was not built for battle.
Riker ordered another sensor sweep of the Octagon before turning to Palmer.
"You should really be somewhere else right now, Mr. President."
Palmer nodded and left the bridge, followed by the security guard that had been assigned to him since being brought aboard. Riker wasted no time shouting orders to his crew.
"Full photon torpedo spread across the bow, then bring us into an omega attack pattern. Look for weapons, engines, and sensors and knock out whatever you can. Make a second pass, if necessary. Keep them off the Galactica!"
---
"Bring all damage control teams to those decks that have lost pressure. Get emergency bulkheads set up and set up a triage for the wounded on decks six and seven."
Adama wiped the blood off his forehead and looked toward the other side of the CIC. Another explosion rocked the ship.
"Use the distance the Titan gave us to spearhead launching Vipers. Federation ships don't have starfighters, so we need to help them however we can. Let's move people!"
Adama began giving orders to other crew members as the battle unfolded. The Titan was no match for the alien ship attacking them, but the Vipers were more than a match for whatever smaller craft came out of the octagon. The forty Vipers aboard the Battlestar had been deployed and continued to battle the alien ships, which the pilots had begun to call "horseshoes" over the comm. Adama listened intently as the battle continued, overhearing chatter from his pilots and the Titan.
"I can't shake him!"
"I'm coming in above you, roll right!"
"Yeah, I see him!"
"Got one! I got one!"
"Internal fire control is shot! I have a cabin fire!"
"Helm, put us on a lateral return vector. I want another photon spread, and use the phasers to cut their shields. Full yield."
"I lost McGavin! His ship just vaporized!"
"I'm out of ordinance, returning to Galactica!"
Adama knew the battle was looking bleaker with each passing moment. He requested the status of the FTL drive once again.
"Engineering says they have it working, but it will take some time to charge, and we'd have to fly right past the octagon's approach vector to get clear of their gravitational well!"
"Titan, this is Galactica Actual. Did you hear that?"
"I copy that, Galactica," Riker responded, "You may want to withdraw your Vipers... don't those flight pods have to be closed for you to enter hyperspace?"
"You just clear us a path out of the system, I'll handle my Vipers."
"Wilco, Galactica."
Adama smiled slightly. "We can do an emergency landing. We've done them before. Order the Vipers to return only when we are two minutes from the jump. That should cut it close enough."
The Galactica lumbered back to life, charging behind the swooping engine of the Titan. Riker's ship unloaded a powerful blast of weapons fire, which seemed to draw fire off the Galactica long enough for them to begin the jump prep.
"All batteries fire when within range. Let's hit those bastards while we still can!"
The Galactica unloaded shot after shot of explosive salvo into the octagon, which seemed to do little damage. The smooth white metal armor that the octagon sported was unprotected due to the Titan's shield busting, but most of its weapon systems seemed to be functional, and the strange cannon fire tore the side of the Galactica to pieces.
"Re-polarize the hull plating! Do something about our speed, engineering! We need to get out of here!"
"Thirty seconds, sir!"
Each shot that they scored on the octagon was met by a dozen in return and the Vipers were taking a beating trying to land in the crossfire.
"Damn it! Veer off or we will die!"
---
Riker watched as the Galactica attempted to put distance between themselves and the octagon, but could not assist. The Titan's warp core was on the verge of rupturing, and without it there was no hope of escape.
"Get us over top of them; use their polarized plating to recharge the shields however you can. Give the best cover fire possible. Prepare to go to warp the moment they leave the system."
Picard had been watching Captain Riker from the bridge during the entire battle. He was impressed at the skill he had gained after leaving the Enterprise to serve as the Titan's captain, but this fight was one they could not win. Picard saw the strain in his friend's eyes as he came to realize how much was lost due to lack of communication with the aggressors.
"Beam any of the pilots who successfully bailed out aboard and have them report to sickbay. Recover any bodies that you can, too... we owe them that much."
"Galactica has vectors set. Flight pods are retracted. They have hyperspace."
"Get us the hell out of here!" Riker said angrily, and watched as the alien ship quickly grew smaller on the view screen. He collapsed in the captain's chair, and exhaled slowly.
"Still feel the President is safest aboard this ship, Number One?"
Riker didn't answer Picard; he was too busy looking at the damage reports on his screen.
"Forty-five Viper pilots are dead or MIA, three rescued from their escape pods. Seventeen crewmen killed, twenty wounded, two critically. Warp engines will die once we reach the rendezvous point. Shields are at seventeen percent, and falling. We are out of photon torpedoes, and our phaser energy is being diverted to maintain the structural integrity, life support, and emergency force fields. Decks two and three are without consistent life support, and have been evacuated. The starboard nacelle is venting plasma, and will soon be without power... the list goes on."
"And the Galactica?"
"They will need an overhaul. The ship is no longer space-worthy by Alliance standards, and it won't make it back out to Allied space. We need to send a call for help. This ship cannot support that many people on board in this state."
"I'll get a subspace communication out right away," Picard said, "I will do anything to help."
"Thanks," Riker said, still frowning. "But we need to act faster. Adama says he can't wait for long; they will lose their structural field in a matter of days out here."
"Days we don't have... What about the Titan? Could she make it back to call for help if the warp engines were fixed?"
"Sure, but we can't just leave them out here, and we wouldn't be able to return... This ship was supposed to be retrofitted... now it needs to be retired!"
"We'll fix the engines, and send all support crew to Galactica. They could keep her flying until we come with another ship. They have plenty of on-board weaponry and our tech people can refit their Vipers with better shields rather quickly. We may be able to transfer a phaser array or two."
Riker looked at Picard for a moment, and then turned to his bridge crew, who waited for his decision patiently.
"Do it," he said finally, and the hustle on the bridge resumed.
---
Who would've thought getting aboard the Titan would be that simple... I hope my ship makes it back safely on the slave drive.
He knew the President was aboard, but he would bide his time until the chaos from the battle would properly mask his actions.
"What is your name, pilot?" one of the medical officers tending to the recovered Viper pilots asked him.
He thought fast. He had to protect his identity... none of the pilots recognized him, so pretending to be a pilot wouldn't save him.
"I'm not a pilot," he said. "I am a traveler. My ship was destroyed thanks to your battle and I had to bail out!"
He acted upset. Play the game.
"I demand to speak to your captain," he continued.
"Oh, I see..." the officer said, taken by surprise, "I, um, well, we will get to your request when we can."
She walked away quickly.
I'm in.
---
"Alright, I need every available support officer to report to the transporter rooms on decks five and six. You will be maintaining the Galactica until further notice. We don't have much time, so let's move, people!"
Picard had elected to remain aboard the Titan with the President as Riker ordered the majority of his bridge crew onto the Galactica. Picard figured that his time of helping was over, so he hoped to aid his former first officer lead his damaged ship to a nearby port. With the badlands, however, it was going to be difficult to find a place to take up dock anytime soon.
"Here," he motioned to a group of officers lifting supplies onto the crowded transporter pad, "Let me help."
Various other members of the Galactica crew had begun beaming over to the Titan to requisition supplies and delegate transport coordinates. They issued orders randomly, but there was a strange sense of urgency among the crews of both ships. Riker seemed to have aged several years in a few hours due to the stress.
"That's why you never let your hair grow out, isn't it, Captain?" Riker asked while walking down one corridor. Picard laughed as he dropped off hand weapons into the cargo transporter.
"Ask no questions, Number One."
---
"Skeleton crews are aboard now, sir; we are prepared to leave for Allied Space."
Riker looked at the President, who now sat in the first officer's chair. "Mr. President, for your safety I must ask that you not interfere with the next few hours as we travel back into Allied Space."
"Do what you need to do, Captain."
Novick stood behind the President, and gave a thumbs-up sign when Riker met his gaze.
"Helm, take us to the nearest Allied outpost. As soon as we break the warp barrier, begin sending out subspace distress signals. Galactica, this is Riker. We leave you now; please take all necessary measures to protect yourselves until we return with help."
"Red Alert! Two Octagons inbound!"
Riker looked at the screen while two more alien warships emerged from some strange kind of void.
They don't use light travel...
"They've cut off our escape vector! We can't make warp!"
"Damn it!" Riker hissed, "We can't fight in this position!"
"Riker, take the Titan behind the Galactica. We can offer you some sort of protection. Your engineers came up with some kind of theory involving an 'Energon Shield' that they want to use—"
"Right. Move us into position."
The Titan's impulse engines roared as the Octagons opened fire.
"Shields taking hits!"
Galactica's flak cannons and main battery opened fire in return as the Vipers launched from the starboard flight pods. Suddenly, a large red shield ignited outward from the Galactica and separated the alien battle group from the Alliance forces.
"Impressive," muttered Riker as the ship reached its destination behind its ally.
"Energon. Cybertron technology never ceases to amaze us. The Mars colony had several during the war, but massive damage shut the project down."
"None of their shots are getting through," Riker said, "When we get back I plan on pushing this issue."
Blast after blast hit the red shield, but nothing broke the barrier. The Vipers took up a defensive formation behind it, waiting.
"Sir, Galactica reports seventy seconds of energon left. That barrier is going to fail."
And it did. The Vipers roared to life, engaging the alien small craft. The Octagons' fire hammered the ray shielding of the Galactica as it attempted to hold off the onslaught.
"We can't hold them this time." Adama said over the radio. "Each battle has been more and more damaging to my ship. We will not survive this one."
The Titan took another hit, and the computer's voice chimed onto the bridge. "Warp core breach in progress. Estimated time to warp core collapse: seven minutes, thirty-six seconds."
Riker cursed under his breath. "All hands, abandon ship. Galactica, prepare for emergency transport."
President Palmer looked around nervously. This was why he had wanted to stay at the White House.
---
Dolis blinked twice as he came back to consciousness. Looking around, he saw that he was no longer on his own ship. Instead, he was inside the cargo hold of another.
Or was it a cargo hold? The room was large, but it was empty aside from himself and Sendra, who was still unconscious on the other side of the room. There was a single arched doorway on the far side, but no bulkhead was there. It was just an open space. Outside the doorway was a smaller room, with a computer console and a bench. On that bench was a tall man with red hair, dozing lazily.
e noticed that his hands were not bound any longer, so he hurried over to Sendra and lifted her, hoping to sneak past the guard and get out of here. Just as he was about to leave beneath the archway, a tremendous shock sent him flying backward and against the wall. The guard woke up.
"Ah! Trying to escape, eh? You'll find that this brig is hard to escape from as long as we have power, I think!"
Dolis checked on Sendra, who slowly regained consciousness, then turned to the guard.
"Where are we?"
"As much as I would love to tell you that information, you must know that as a prisoner, you really don't have many rights..."
Another voice came from inside the cell, behind them.
"And it's not nice to demand things. Maybe next time you should say please?"
It was the same red-haired man, and Dolis tried to attack him as he stood behind Sendra. He disappeared in a sudden flash of smoke.
"Ah ah... play nice now," The first one said, still standing outside the cell. He was joined by his counterpart, and they began arguing amongst themselves. Presently, the door to the brig opened and a man in an American military uniform walked in.
"Fred! George! Enough!"
The twins became silent, and the uniformed man turned to look at Dolis and Sendra.
"You two are in pretty hot water, and you had better start explaining yourselves. Come with me."
One of the twins pushed a button on the computer console and the doorway shimmered. Dolis guessed that the protective shield had just been taken down.
"You had better come right now... and don't resist, or we will be forced to take more... extreme measures."
They walked through the corridors of the ship toward wherever they would be questioned. It was a Federation ship, but it lacked the usual Federation grandeur that was typical of this branch of the Alliance Navy. It obviously had more American touches, with more square corridors and arching doorways. Both Federation and American crewman were walking thought the same hallways, and many different species of Aliens were present among the humans. Soon they entered an observatory of sorts, with a table and a large windowed view of Hyperspace outside the Starship. Inside was a large, hulking figure with a modified Starfleet uniform. It was a Covenant Elite.
"Commander Molorock, here are the prisoners."
"Thank you, Corporal. You may wait outside."
The corporal left the room, leaving Dolis and Sendra in the doorway, staring at the gigantic Commander. He was easily twice the size of a human male.
"Sit down, please."
They complied, but remained silent. Shadow the Hedgehog and the Jedi, Spudic, walked into the room from another entrance.
"As of now you will not be given any information as to your whereabouts, but instead only know that the captain has deciphered your heading and we have decided to follow it on Master Spudic and the Hedgehog's orders. We would like for you to tell us what you were doing with the Chaos Emerald."
At this point, Dolis knew he was not being paid for the job he did, so he quickly came to the conclusion that the government was now his only option.
"We were hired to retrieve it from Julian Robotnik's compound. We were on our way to the Badlands to receive our first payment, and be given directions to the other six emeralds, which was the second part of our job."
"Who hired you, exactly?"
"We were given coordinates, not a name. That is all we know."
"Do you know where the other six are located?"
"No." Sendra chimed in, "We were hoping our next waypoint would be given to us with our first payment."
The Elite stared at them and exhaled a long breath. Spudic spoke. "I do not sense much deception. I will give you the benefit of the doubt for the time being and take your words as fact. Seeing as you did not kill anyone during your little escapade through Dr. Robotnik's facility, you may not be punished as much as I would like to see... but for the time being, you can breathe easier in that cell of yours while we deal with your... benefactor."
"What about my ship?"
"It is in our docking bay. It would be in your best interest not to worry about it at this point."
Shadow scoffed and left the room. Spudic stared long into the eyes of Dolis before following him out.
"The captain is not as tolerant as we are during situations such as this," Molorock said, "He will be in here shortly—"
Suddenly the room's lighting darkened and alarm sirens began to sound.
"Red Alert! All hands to battle stations!"
Molorock glared at the two hedgehogs and then left the room quickly.
"Battle stations?" Sendra asked, worried.
---
"I've lost her again," Riker sighed from his chair in the emergency triage set up in the Galactica's cargo bay.
"Everyone made it off in time, Captain," Picard said. "The President has been safely secured in a sector with an escape pod, as requested. Admiral Adama wishes you to join him on the bridge."
"You come too, Jean-Luc."
When they arrived on the bridge, Adama met them both with handshakes.
"Legendary. Absolutely legendary. We meet at last, Captain Picard."
"Admiral Adama, I have also heard great things of you, but I am no longer a captain. In any case, we should allow you and Captain Riker to deal with the situation at hand."
"Right. All Vipers have been deployed, but we do not have any kind of plan to get out of this. Our FTL drive, as you know, is inoperative."
"We fight until the end, then," Riker said, a look of revenge in his eyes.
Adama nodded. "I suppose we have no other alternative."
A blast rocked the ship, and more warnings of doom came from the various sections of the ship.
"Even on the Titan," Riker said desperately, "our phasers were not powerful enough. Turbolasers don't seem to work either. What the hell kind of ships are they?"
Another blast rocked Picard off his feet.
"Sir, one more hit like that and we lose structural integrity!"
"Admiral," an officer spoke up, but Adama didn't respond. Instead he picked up the intercom.
"All hands, this is the Admiral," Adama said with a sad look on his face, "We have no choice but to keep firing back on the unidentified force. I ask that you keep fighting, despite the hopeless feelings we all have."
"But sir!" His DRADIS officer again tried to interrupt, but Adama waved his hand demanding silence.
"It has been an honor serving with all of you. Adama out."
"Sir, look!" the officer finally shouted.
Adama, Picard, and Riker watched the viewer as two blue beams cut into the rear octagon and tore it to pieces. A white starship streaked from behind the blast, landed a blow to the lead octagon, and left a large burn mark in its hull.
"What the?" Adama said.
Picard smiled.
"Admiral," he said, "It's the Enterprise!"
