IKC FHew 7C6110
Empty Promise – Houskeeping
by Soghla' Marie St. Helene & HoD Ro' Matlh & Soghla' Jared
Post Details
Lacking anything better to do, Marie began a diagnostic scan of all systems on the FHew. She began with the Helm then moved onto Tactical. From there she tested the computer banks then the drive systems. She rather hoped she would find a problem as it would give her something to occupy her time and she could at least say that time had been put to good use.
Playing true to its contrary nature, the FHew decided that this would be a good time to report that all systems were normal and operating within accepted parameters.
She briefly considered breaking something just so that she could repair it but reflected that if she did that, Ro’ would probably break her.
She headed off the bridge and down to the targ pits. There she found an old broom which she took back to the bridge. She commenced sweeping the bridge’s decking.
Ro' glanced at the human woman, but had stopped trying to understand the strange aliens’ habits years ago. They seemed to need everything clean all the time. Explained why they smelled of soap so much.
The task didn’t take long: nowhere near long enough. Like all Klingon decks, that of the FHew was a grill. All that was required was to push such little dirt as there was down between the cracks. The hardest part was the broom’s bristles kept getting caught and Marie had to lift it while she pushed.
Marie cast about for something else to do. She thought about polishing the consoles but the glare Ro’ had cast her dissuaded her. Anyway, cleaning had never been anything more to Marie than a chore to be avoided.
Fortunately, a high pitched noise rescued her; the comm system was making a beep. It seemed there was a response to their message.
“Hey,” Marie called over her shoulder. “We got a reply. You’ll love this.... It’s a Romulan. Mind you, they’re not asking what we need; they’re asking what we’re doing in Federation space. As if it’s any of their business....”
The small comms screen crackled to life. There was a lot of static and interference but the scowling face of a Romulan could just be made out.
"Who is this?" he demanded. "This is a secure channel. How did you get it? This is not a Federation transmission code!"
“Take a look in your viewscreen,” Marie snapped. “We’re not a Federation ship either.”
Bruce cleared his throat, "Even if they were in range, which would put them in Fed Territory, we're cloaked. They can't see us."
Marie looked at the Australian. He was too damn cocky for her liking; far too sure of himself. And that accent of his grated on her ears. “Then how, pray tell,” she snapped, “do they know we’re here? Answer me that, flyboy!”
Bruce couldn't help grinning. This sheila was more wound up than the field density coils. "You called him, Cobber. At best he has a vague idea of direction and distance. He's probably a hundred light years away."
Marie fought down the urge to hit the pilot. What would it achieve? It would feel good for a moment.... The moment it took for Ro’ to hit her. He would cause a lot more pain. “I just sent out a general call; it could have come from anywhere. If that Romulan knows we’re inside Federation space then they’ve got some sort of sophisticated detection system. Either that or they’re just guessing.”
Bruce shook his head, "Marie, sweety, YOU radioed THEM. Just because they can see you on the vid screen doesn't meant they are near by. You could ring Earth and they'd be able to see you on the vid screen. As far as he knows you might be on the Enterprise calling him from inside Cardassian space."
The Romulan was not pleased to have been put on mute, "What is the meaning of this? This is a priority wavelength, not some social chat line."
If there was one thing in this universe Marie really hated it was epithets like ‘dear’ or ‘love’. As for ‘sweety’, that particularly galled her. It was not that she objected to sweet nothings being whispered in her ear; in fact, she rather wished that happened more often than it did. When they came from people she didn’t know or – as in this case – she didn’t want to know, they were like a red rag to a bull.
Yet what Bruce said was correct: she had sent out the message. The Romulans were merely replying. To rail at him now would only be to shoot the messenger. That would not earn her any brownie points with Ro’.
That left her with only one target for her anger.
“Social chit-chat?” Marie parroted. “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a Lyan ship out here. I presume you’ve heard about Lyans.”
Marie fervently hoped they had heard about Lyans because she didn’t have a clue what she was going to say next if they hadn’t. She knew she was being narky but Bruce had gotten under her skin. Rather than admit it to his face and give him the satisfaction of gloating, she was taking her frustration out on Romulans. Not that it would be the first time....
The word changed the Romulan's demeanor instantly, "Lyan? That's impossible. They all died of Plague. What have you seen?"
“Oh, nothing much.... Just this wedge shaped thing about half the length of a Warbird, I’d say. There’s a raised dome amidships. My guess is it’s the bridge but who am I to say? The body tapers towards the front if that helps. Oh, and there’s two wing type things at the back. At least, I think they’re wings....” She turned to Air. “Hey, cobber, those look like wings to you?”
"No," Air said simply, "Wings are an atmospheric artiface to provide lift. At a guess I would say they are Warp induction coils similar in nature to our Nacells though their placement would suggest their drive induction is inferior to ours."
“Yeah,” Marie continued, ignoring him, “Brucey baby agrees they’re wings. But he’s only a pilot so what would he know?”
The Romulan commander was very earnest, "That description matches the ones I have seen. How many of your ships are there fighting it? What is the composition of your fleet?"
Time to get serious, Marie told herself. “The size and composition of my fleet is confidential,” she replied sternly. “There is only one Lyan ship. Lifestyle readings are vague. I think they have some sort of dampening protocol in place but my guess is there are a lot of them on board.”
The Romluan seemed to relax, "Well, provided you have enough capital ships to offset the losses. If you find a way to improve the 8 to one losses normally suffered the Romulan empire would be very keen to know. I will inform my government. Was there anything else?"
Anything else? Marie thought. ANYTHING ELSE?
“Eight to one would be decent losses,” she said. “Unfortunately, we don’t have eight ships to squander right now. How about you come help us? Oh, and it would be appreciated if you got here while we’re still in one piece.”
"US," the Romulan seemed surprised and more than a little suspicious of the request.
“You have experience fighting the Lyans. With our firepower and that experience we might just get away with it. Oh, and we have troops on the Lyan ship. They’re working to defeat it from within. That should even out the odds a bit.”
Suddenly the Commander was much more attentive, "You have managed to board a Predator? You have death wishes, the lot of you."
“I understand you’re reluctant. Think of it this way: you’ll be able to report a glorious battle to your superiors; you’ll be able to report a new threat from the Lyan; you’ll be able to dine out on your exploits for years to come.”
She knew she was losing the Romulan commander again, "You mistake me for a Klingon who shows lust for Glory above their own life. Glory and Prestige without power to wield them are meaningless."
Marie was getting desperate; she knew this because she really was starting to get serious. “If this is only one Lyan ship then we are doing the rest of the quadrant a favour by getting rid of it. If it is a new threat then we might just be able to nip it in the bud. Decisive action like that would gain you a lot of kudos in the Star Empire. With kudos comes power; if you know how to wield it....”
The Romulan tapped his finger in thought. Finally he said, "You are asking us to cross the Neutral Zone without permission. That would be seen as an act of aggression, and we are not yet recovered from our war with the Lyan to begin another with the Federation. Who is in command of your fleet?"
Now was make or break time. Marie did not hesitate in telling him.
"Ro' Matlh?" the Romulan almost exploded. "The old man is leading the charge himself. I never expected him to give up that tiny bucket he was using. This must be serious. Send us your co-ordinates. Helm, new heading..."
Marie breathed a deep sigh of relief. She tapped the co-ordinates into comms and sent them off. “Don’t worry about crossing the neutral zone,” she said. “I have entered a log confirming that the FHew requested your assistance. In the circumstances, not even the Federation would see that as an act of aggression.”
In fact, she had done no such thing. If things went sour, Marie wanted to cover her own arse first. However, if ‘Ro somehow managed to pull off yet another hairbrained stunt, she would make the entry and give the Romulans their justification for being in Federation space.
The Romulan commander's face soured even further, if possible. "I am quite prepared to believe the Federation could take offense to anything. Their capacity to take offense is only matched by their capacity to give it. We will be at your position in... 32 minutes."
The comm line went dead. Bruce frowned running some calculations in his head, "That's... very close. They either have some killer new engines, or they were already inside Federation space."
Ro' called from his chair, "Report!"
“Report!” Marie snapped. “Yes, we could do with a report right about now. What’s happening over there?”
"The away team is in radio silence," 'Ro' reminded her in a clipped voice.
“Fine, so now we have Romulans who expect to see a Klingon armada and will see one puny B’rel. What do you suggest I say to them, Captain? That’s assuming they even acknowledge our presence. They’ll probably think we’re beneath their attention.”
Ro' smiled, "You convinced a Romulan Commander to follow your advice? I don't think you need my help in how to handle them."
A few minutes later the navigation becon that cloaked ships use to signal the rest of the fleet not to crash into them fired on the tactics display.
"They're here, cloaked," reported HoS.
Marie decided that attack was the best form of defence at this point in time. “About time you turned up,” she said in her most obstreperous voice. “We have soldiers over there dying while you dilly-dally.”
The furious face of the Romulan Commander filled the screen, "You promised us an Armada!"
“They’re maintaining radio silence,” Marie replied as if such a rudimentary procedure should have been obvious. “Together we can take this ship. The FHew can disable their shields and propulsion. You take out their weapons and they’ll be a lame duck.”
"Captain!" HoS's alarmed voice brought the attention to the view screen. Something on the Lyan Predator was happening. A series of panels was opening along the sides. Suddenly they could see the Romulan Warbird approaching. It was still cloaked, since bits of it were invisible, but the man section was bathed in a crimson light.
The Romulan yelled off screen, "Bring us about! Full power to weapons and shields. Begin the attack run."
Then he looked back with a glower at Marie, "You've killed us all."
The screen went dead as on the main viewer the D'deridex Warbird was suddenly engulfed in flame, disappearing in an instant without the Lyan ship ever firing a shot.
"The Ship Killer," Ro' acknowledged.
"Sir! We are detected!" HoS bellowed.
"Helm, Maximum evasive maneuvers. MOVE!"
The ship bucked so suddenly that Marie was thrown from her seat at Comms. Bruce Air had graduated with honours form Alpha Squadron, the top flight group in Starfleet. Now he was flying as if his life depended on it, and it did. The IDS of the old B'rel could not keep up, and as the ship creaked and groaned with each turn it became apparent that the SIF may not either.
Marie crawled back to her chair and wished fervently for a good, old fashioned seat belt right about now. She was still rattled by what had happened to the Warbird. Nothing should be able to inflict such destruction. Had she not seen it she would not have believed it possible.
“Hey, flyboy, can you bring us in close to those panels?” she asked.
"Ngggk," Air said fighting the controls. He would have given much for a joy stick to hold. "What?"
“I think I can put a photon torpedo into one of those recesses. It’s a small target but doable. It means you’ll have to back us off real fast though.”
"Straight line trajectory would be needed for targeting. We'd be open to fire from them."
Marie shoved HoS to one side, normal Bridge etiquette, so she could target the shot, “Yeah, I know, it means exposing our underbelly and that’s our weakest part. The way that Warbird went up, I think that’s the least of our worries.”
"If we are to die," Ro' yelled, "Let them remember us. Take us in!"
The FHew straightened with a little wobble and head straight for one of the panes.
Marie’s finger hovered over the firing button. It felt like it was going to cramp at any moment. Sweat trickled down her brow.
Somewhere on the Predator, the ship killer weapon was finally able to get a vector lock on the tiny ship.
Marie wanted to fire the torpedo but she schooled herself to resist the urge. Wait until you see the whites of their eyes popped into her mind. It was an absurd thing to think: she could not see a Lyan, let alone its eyes. Still, it helped her to focus.
Moments ticked agonizingly by. Everything was in slow motion as the enemy ship drew closer.
May the Force be with you, Luke. Now where the hell did that come from? She almost missed her opportunity. She pressed and a sparkling light sped away from the FHew.
The pitiful single torpedo could not hope to do more than mark the paint on a vessel that big. As Bruce pulled the ship around in a tight turn he lost sight of it on the monitor.
Then there was a searing light and the ship shook violently. Ro' stood upright at the Captain's chair. ToH, he thought, this is a glorious death at last.
And then the ship kept shaking and as the light faded, alarms began to sound. Looking back at the rear monitor the crew could see an expanding cloud of debris that marked the place the Lyan had been. The ship and crew were gone, just as surely as the Romulan craft had.
HoS looked, open mouthed, between the monitor and Marie at Tactics.
"Qu'vatlh," Ro' breathed. "Did you just destroy an entire Lyan Clan with a single shot?"
“It would appear so, Captain.”
"Well done, Chief Tactical Officer," Ro' responded, the awe in his voice almost palpable.
HoS went and sat quietly at the Comms station.
“Ah...Captain,” Marie said. “I’m always happy to receive your congratulations – especially since I can’t recall the last time I actually received any – and I hate to put a dampener on celebrations, but....”
Ro' waited. Anyone who could manage what she had just achieved deserved a chance to speak.
“Most of our crew were on that ship.... Tell, Jared, Germite,....”
Ro' nodded, "And they sacrificed themselves in the line of duty, killing an entire Lyan clan. "Songs will be sung... though not by Jared."
“I didn’t expect to blow the thing to pieces,” she explained in a quiet, woeful voice. “I just thought a well placed torpedo might disable the ship killer.”
,'. Transporter room to bridge. I have the Away team ,'.
Ro' beamed, "It seems Jared WILL sing for us after all!"
Lyan Predator - Roughly 600m long (half the length of a warbird), and wedge-shaped. Core of the ship is roughly rectangular (300m wide by 150m high), but the front half tapers to roughly half that (150m wide, 75m high at the very front). The bridge is a raised dome in the centre of the upper hull, just forward of where the hull starts to taper.
There's also two "wings" on the left & right sides of the main hull - loops of hull metal that emerge from the hull at the top edge of the hull (towards the rear) and loop around to rejoin the hull at the bottom. So from above or below is looks a little like a stumpy letter "T", but from the front it's more of a " o@o " shape.
Orangy-red in colour.
by Soghla' Marie St. Helene & HoD Ro' Matlh & Soghla' Jared
Post Details
| Title | Houskeeping | |
| Mission | Empty Promise | |
| Author(s) | Soghla' Marie St. Helene & HoD Ro' Matlh & Soghla' Jared | |
| Posted | Wed May 20, 2015 @ 1:25am | |
| Location | Bridge |
Playing true to its contrary nature, the FHew decided that this would be a good time to report that all systems were normal and operating within accepted parameters.
She briefly considered breaking something just so that she could repair it but reflected that if she did that, Ro’ would probably break her.
She headed off the bridge and down to the targ pits. There she found an old broom which she took back to the bridge. She commenced sweeping the bridge’s decking.
Ro' glanced at the human woman, but had stopped trying to understand the strange aliens’ habits years ago. They seemed to need everything clean all the time. Explained why they smelled of soap so much.
The task didn’t take long: nowhere near long enough. Like all Klingon decks, that of the FHew was a grill. All that was required was to push such little dirt as there was down between the cracks. The hardest part was the broom’s bristles kept getting caught and Marie had to lift it while she pushed.
Marie cast about for something else to do. She thought about polishing the consoles but the glare Ro’ had cast her dissuaded her. Anyway, cleaning had never been anything more to Marie than a chore to be avoided.
Fortunately, a high pitched noise rescued her; the comm system was making a beep. It seemed there was a response to their message.
“Hey,” Marie called over her shoulder. “We got a reply. You’ll love this.... It’s a Romulan. Mind you, they’re not asking what we need; they’re asking what we’re doing in Federation space. As if it’s any of their business....”
The small comms screen crackled to life. There was a lot of static and interference but the scowling face of a Romulan could just be made out.
"Who is this?" he demanded. "This is a secure channel. How did you get it? This is not a Federation transmission code!"
“Take a look in your viewscreen,” Marie snapped. “We’re not a Federation ship either.”
Bruce cleared his throat, "Even if they were in range, which would put them in Fed Territory, we're cloaked. They can't see us."
Marie looked at the Australian. He was too damn cocky for her liking; far too sure of himself. And that accent of his grated on her ears. “Then how, pray tell,” she snapped, “do they know we’re here? Answer me that, flyboy!”
Bruce couldn't help grinning. This sheila was more wound up than the field density coils. "You called him, Cobber. At best he has a vague idea of direction and distance. He's probably a hundred light years away."
Marie fought down the urge to hit the pilot. What would it achieve? It would feel good for a moment.... The moment it took for Ro’ to hit her. He would cause a lot more pain. “I just sent out a general call; it could have come from anywhere. If that Romulan knows we’re inside Federation space then they’ve got some sort of sophisticated detection system. Either that or they’re just guessing.”
Bruce shook his head, "Marie, sweety, YOU radioed THEM. Just because they can see you on the vid screen doesn't meant they are near by. You could ring Earth and they'd be able to see you on the vid screen. As far as he knows you might be on the Enterprise calling him from inside Cardassian space."
The Romulan was not pleased to have been put on mute, "What is the meaning of this? This is a priority wavelength, not some social chat line."
If there was one thing in this universe Marie really hated it was epithets like ‘dear’ or ‘love’. As for ‘sweety’, that particularly galled her. It was not that she objected to sweet nothings being whispered in her ear; in fact, she rather wished that happened more often than it did. When they came from people she didn’t know or – as in this case – she didn’t want to know, they were like a red rag to a bull.
Yet what Bruce said was correct: she had sent out the message. The Romulans were merely replying. To rail at him now would only be to shoot the messenger. That would not earn her any brownie points with Ro’.
That left her with only one target for her anger.
“Social chit-chat?” Marie parroted. “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a Lyan ship out here. I presume you’ve heard about Lyans.”
Marie fervently hoped they had heard about Lyans because she didn’t have a clue what she was going to say next if they hadn’t. She knew she was being narky but Bruce had gotten under her skin. Rather than admit it to his face and give him the satisfaction of gloating, she was taking her frustration out on Romulans. Not that it would be the first time....
The word changed the Romulan's demeanor instantly, "Lyan? That's impossible. They all died of Plague. What have you seen?"
“Oh, nothing much.... Just this wedge shaped thing about half the length of a Warbird, I’d say. There’s a raised dome amidships. My guess is it’s the bridge but who am I to say? The body tapers towards the front if that helps. Oh, and there’s two wing type things at the back. At least, I think they’re wings....” She turned to Air. “Hey, cobber, those look like wings to you?”
"No," Air said simply, "Wings are an atmospheric artiface to provide lift. At a guess I would say they are Warp induction coils similar in nature to our Nacells though their placement would suggest their drive induction is inferior to ours."
“Yeah,” Marie continued, ignoring him, “Brucey baby agrees they’re wings. But he’s only a pilot so what would he know?”
The Romulan commander was very earnest, "That description matches the ones I have seen. How many of your ships are there fighting it? What is the composition of your fleet?"
Time to get serious, Marie told herself. “The size and composition of my fleet is confidential,” she replied sternly. “There is only one Lyan ship. Lifestyle readings are vague. I think they have some sort of dampening protocol in place but my guess is there are a lot of them on board.”
The Romluan seemed to relax, "Well, provided you have enough capital ships to offset the losses. If you find a way to improve the 8 to one losses normally suffered the Romulan empire would be very keen to know. I will inform my government. Was there anything else?"
Anything else? Marie thought. ANYTHING ELSE?
“Eight to one would be decent losses,” she said. “Unfortunately, we don’t have eight ships to squander right now. How about you come help us? Oh, and it would be appreciated if you got here while we’re still in one piece.”
"US," the Romulan seemed surprised and more than a little suspicious of the request.
“You have experience fighting the Lyans. With our firepower and that experience we might just get away with it. Oh, and we have troops on the Lyan ship. They’re working to defeat it from within. That should even out the odds a bit.”
Suddenly the Commander was much more attentive, "You have managed to board a Predator? You have death wishes, the lot of you."
“I understand you’re reluctant. Think of it this way: you’ll be able to report a glorious battle to your superiors; you’ll be able to report a new threat from the Lyan; you’ll be able to dine out on your exploits for years to come.”
She knew she was losing the Romulan commander again, "You mistake me for a Klingon who shows lust for Glory above their own life. Glory and Prestige without power to wield them are meaningless."
Marie was getting desperate; she knew this because she really was starting to get serious. “If this is only one Lyan ship then we are doing the rest of the quadrant a favour by getting rid of it. If it is a new threat then we might just be able to nip it in the bud. Decisive action like that would gain you a lot of kudos in the Star Empire. With kudos comes power; if you know how to wield it....”
The Romulan tapped his finger in thought. Finally he said, "You are asking us to cross the Neutral Zone without permission. That would be seen as an act of aggression, and we are not yet recovered from our war with the Lyan to begin another with the Federation. Who is in command of your fleet?"
Now was make or break time. Marie did not hesitate in telling him.
"Ro' Matlh?" the Romulan almost exploded. "The old man is leading the charge himself. I never expected him to give up that tiny bucket he was using. This must be serious. Send us your co-ordinates. Helm, new heading..."
Marie breathed a deep sigh of relief. She tapped the co-ordinates into comms and sent them off. “Don’t worry about crossing the neutral zone,” she said. “I have entered a log confirming that the FHew requested your assistance. In the circumstances, not even the Federation would see that as an act of aggression.”
In fact, she had done no such thing. If things went sour, Marie wanted to cover her own arse first. However, if ‘Ro somehow managed to pull off yet another hairbrained stunt, she would make the entry and give the Romulans their justification for being in Federation space.
The Romulan commander's face soured even further, if possible. "I am quite prepared to believe the Federation could take offense to anything. Their capacity to take offense is only matched by their capacity to give it. We will be at your position in... 32 minutes."
The comm line went dead. Bruce frowned running some calculations in his head, "That's... very close. They either have some killer new engines, or they were already inside Federation space."
Ro' called from his chair, "Report!"
“Report!” Marie snapped. “Yes, we could do with a report right about now. What’s happening over there?”
"The away team is in radio silence," 'Ro' reminded her in a clipped voice.
“Fine, so now we have Romulans who expect to see a Klingon armada and will see one puny B’rel. What do you suggest I say to them, Captain? That’s assuming they even acknowledge our presence. They’ll probably think we’re beneath their attention.”
Ro' smiled, "You convinced a Romulan Commander to follow your advice? I don't think you need my help in how to handle them."
A few minutes later the navigation becon that cloaked ships use to signal the rest of the fleet not to crash into them fired on the tactics display.
"They're here, cloaked," reported HoS.
Marie decided that attack was the best form of defence at this point in time. “About time you turned up,” she said in her most obstreperous voice. “We have soldiers over there dying while you dilly-dally.”
The furious face of the Romulan Commander filled the screen, "You promised us an Armada!"
“They’re maintaining radio silence,” Marie replied as if such a rudimentary procedure should have been obvious. “Together we can take this ship. The FHew can disable their shields and propulsion. You take out their weapons and they’ll be a lame duck.”
"Captain!" HoS's alarmed voice brought the attention to the view screen. Something on the Lyan Predator was happening. A series of panels was opening along the sides. Suddenly they could see the Romulan Warbird approaching. It was still cloaked, since bits of it were invisible, but the man section was bathed in a crimson light.
The Romulan yelled off screen, "Bring us about! Full power to weapons and shields. Begin the attack run."
Then he looked back with a glower at Marie, "You've killed us all."
The screen went dead as on the main viewer the D'deridex Warbird was suddenly engulfed in flame, disappearing in an instant without the Lyan ship ever firing a shot.
"The Ship Killer," Ro' acknowledged.
"Sir! We are detected!" HoS bellowed.
"Helm, Maximum evasive maneuvers. MOVE!"
The ship bucked so suddenly that Marie was thrown from her seat at Comms. Bruce Air had graduated with honours form Alpha Squadron, the top flight group in Starfleet. Now he was flying as if his life depended on it, and it did. The IDS of the old B'rel could not keep up, and as the ship creaked and groaned with each turn it became apparent that the SIF may not either.
Marie crawled back to her chair and wished fervently for a good, old fashioned seat belt right about now. She was still rattled by what had happened to the Warbird. Nothing should be able to inflict such destruction. Had she not seen it she would not have believed it possible.
“Hey, flyboy, can you bring us in close to those panels?” she asked.
"Ngggk," Air said fighting the controls. He would have given much for a joy stick to hold. "What?"
“I think I can put a photon torpedo into one of those recesses. It’s a small target but doable. It means you’ll have to back us off real fast though.”
"Straight line trajectory would be needed for targeting. We'd be open to fire from them."
Marie shoved HoS to one side, normal Bridge etiquette, so she could target the shot, “Yeah, I know, it means exposing our underbelly and that’s our weakest part. The way that Warbird went up, I think that’s the least of our worries.”
"If we are to die," Ro' yelled, "Let them remember us. Take us in!"
The FHew straightened with a little wobble and head straight for one of the panes.
Marie’s finger hovered over the firing button. It felt like it was going to cramp at any moment. Sweat trickled down her brow.
Somewhere on the Predator, the ship killer weapon was finally able to get a vector lock on the tiny ship.
Marie wanted to fire the torpedo but she schooled herself to resist the urge. Wait until you see the whites of their eyes popped into her mind. It was an absurd thing to think: she could not see a Lyan, let alone its eyes. Still, it helped her to focus.
Moments ticked agonizingly by. Everything was in slow motion as the enemy ship drew closer.
May the Force be with you, Luke. Now where the hell did that come from? She almost missed her opportunity. She pressed and a sparkling light sped away from the FHew.
The pitiful single torpedo could not hope to do more than mark the paint on a vessel that big. As Bruce pulled the ship around in a tight turn he lost sight of it on the monitor.
Then there was a searing light and the ship shook violently. Ro' stood upright at the Captain's chair. ToH, he thought, this is a glorious death at last.
And then the ship kept shaking and as the light faded, alarms began to sound. Looking back at the rear monitor the crew could see an expanding cloud of debris that marked the place the Lyan had been. The ship and crew were gone, just as surely as the Romulan craft had.
HoS looked, open mouthed, between the monitor and Marie at Tactics.
"Qu'vatlh," Ro' breathed. "Did you just destroy an entire Lyan Clan with a single shot?"
“It would appear so, Captain.”
"Well done, Chief Tactical Officer," Ro' responded, the awe in his voice almost palpable.
HoS went and sat quietly at the Comms station.
“Ah...Captain,” Marie said. “I’m always happy to receive your congratulations – especially since I can’t recall the last time I actually received any – and I hate to put a dampener on celebrations, but....”
Ro' waited. Anyone who could manage what she had just achieved deserved a chance to speak.
“Most of our crew were on that ship.... Tell, Jared, Germite,....”
Ro' nodded, "And they sacrificed themselves in the line of duty, killing an entire Lyan clan. "Songs will be sung... though not by Jared."
“I didn’t expect to blow the thing to pieces,” she explained in a quiet, woeful voice. “I just thought a well placed torpedo might disable the ship killer.”
,'. Transporter room to bridge. I have the Away team ,'.
Ro' beamed, "It seems Jared WILL sing for us after all!"
Lyan Predator - Roughly 600m long (half the length of a warbird), and wedge-shaped. Core of the ship is roughly rectangular (300m wide by 150m high), but the front half tapers to roughly half that (150m wide, 75m high at the very front). The bridge is a raised dome in the centre of the upper hull, just forward of where the hull starts to taper.
There's also two "wings" on the left & right sides of the main hull - loops of hull metal that emerge from the hull at the top edge of the hull (towards the rear) and loop around to rejoin the hull at the bottom. So from above or below is looks a little like a stumpy letter "T", but from the front it's more of a " o@o " shape.
Orangy-red in colour.