SD242005.20 - Joint Log - Grey & Bleetman - "The Melee"

Posted on Wed May 20th, 2020 @ 4:11pm by Brigadier General Jonathan Grey & Commodore Amanda Bleetman MD

1,491 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: The Sincerest Form of Flattery
Location: Versailles
Timeline: Current

OOC: Last time, Amanda led the evacuation efforts when the black hole arrived. A mob quickly gathered at one of the busier docking ports, and our XO valiantly led a posse of our fiercest security staff in their efforts to ensure that the station's children were given priority. Many thousands of kids were packed into every crevice of the Klingon and Starfleet vessels, and they managed to evacuate in time.

Now the chaos has subsided, slightly, we rejoin our heroes....

IC:

=^= Docking Port C =^=

"Clear!" shouted a medic, brushing hair out of her face as she hammered a button on her tricorder. The bloodied and broken security officer lying next to her jolted and spasmed as energy surged through his body, leaving the man limp and unresponsive.

"There are no. More. Ships! Now get back!" screamed one of the security officers nearby, clubbing another evacuee over the back of the head as the youth took advantage of his distraction to try and push past. As the youth fell, two of his friends jumped the security officer and tried to separate him from his weapon, pushing and pulling.

Around them, it was chaos. The departure of the last ship had been to the sounds of the mob breaking through the line of security, and rapid-fire stuns had only slowed the madness. Bodies, both stunned and dead, littered the floor as more and more people arrived too late for a spot on the ships.

Few took the information well.

As things stood, the remaining security staff had abandoned most of the now-empty docking hatches that lined one wall of the vast, curved hall. Instead they had concentrated their personnel into clumps around a few of the larger hatches, hoping to hold them secure until more evac ships could arrive.

Unfortunately, the mob had figured that out too.

"It's another push!" hollered one officer, pointing to a band of civilians. Mostly teenagers, they charged the security staff while holding chunks of fallen ceiling metal as shields. Kneeling behind a smattering of collapsed girders, Starfleet rifles burst forth in a blaze of pulses; striking the shields harmlessly. A few were smart enough to aim for the legs, but most of the charging mob survived the response.

An instance later, the groups were engaged. In a rush of adrenaline, the dozens attempting to argue with security rather than fight them promptly dove into the fray. In moments, the thirty security officers were facing over a hundred civilians, and more than a few were trampled underfoot by uncaring boots.

Two hatches over, another band of staff were guarding hatch three. Even in this bedlam, the noise from the storming of hatch five was loud, and hard to miss. Spotting this, one ensign broke position and entered the center of his group, tapping the Commodore on her shoulder to get her attention.

"Sir! Hatch five is taking a beating, they're getting overrun!" he reported, gesturing down the hall, past several hunks of burning metal and the cluster of fools trying to pry open hatch four.

Amanda gestured at the nearest two of her team she was working with. "You two, with me, the rest of you, I want three to a hatch, any issues call for extra support. Let's sort the panic out." Amanda gave a witty smile and headed off in the direction of Hatch five. Coming around the corner, she was met with a scene of utter devastation, with debris and bits of everything scattered everywhere. She looked at the team that was trying to hold back the tide. "Report!" She shouted across to them.

"Commodore, I, argh!" cried the Lieutenant, as a pole struck the back of his head. The man fell hard and hit the ground, with an angry civilian raising his weapon overhead to strike the fallen officer.

A pulse of bright light shot out from the melee and slammed into the civilian's back, knocking him out as well. A Petty Officer fought free of the clash, only to be confronted by a woman with long black hair and a serrated blade. Without hesitating, he jabbed her in the gut with the tip of his weapon, and fired a stun round as she keeled over.

"Commodore, we need assista....WILL YOU RUDDY STOP THA'!" he bellowed at the youth trying to attack him from the side, making the young man flinch and back away. "GO ON, GET!" he added, firing three-round-burst at the civilian's feet to make him run off.

"Assistance, sir!" the Petty Officer finished, turning his rifle on a second wave of civilians rushing into the hall and dotting the wall above their heads with weapons fire, trying to slow the rush. Some flinched, some didn't, and a few fired back with weapons of their own.

"Aw hell, TAKE COVER!" screamed the Petty Officer, ducking behind a fallen girder.

"Bet you they're not set to stun..." She said referring to the civilians weapons. "Alright, non-lethal only, prioritise the ones with the weapons first." She ordered, taking aim at one of the armed men and firing, knocking him flat out. =/\=Bleetman to anyone in Engineering, I need an update on those containment fields to hold this lot back.=/\= She said, as she took aim again , firing quickly at different targets, getting a hit each time.

"Nay luck sir, comms're offline. We're down ta' lights 'nd air." reported the Petty Officer, tapping his dead badge for emphasis. Though the badges were decent transmitters even without the comms system, the docks were reinforced with plating that messed with the signal. Combine that with all of the barely-shielded improvised power conduits scattered around the place, and it was no wonder all messages had to be hand-delivered.

"Ta Louey, uh, LT, tried to reach the dock's bulkhead control panel, sir. Ye can see how tha' turned out." the Petty Officer added, gesturing to the far side of the hall. One of the bigger entrances had a panel beside it, and a few uniformed bodies could be seen lying on the ground between them and it. One still had a medic frantically trying to revive it, and the mob had ignored them so far.

"Well crap..." Amanda said. "Any suggestions anyone?" She asked, hoping for someone to come up with a brilliant idea.

"We could use some of these fallen panels maybe." suggested the Petty Officer, breaking a civilian's nose with his shoulder butt and knocking the fool backwards. "Move together as a shield wall, like those romans on the history channel?"

"Or, um, sir?" said the youngest enlisted man, his eyes wide as saucers.

"Yeah kid?" replied the Petty Officer, dodging a thrown weapon as he raised his head out of cover and stunned a pair of older guys charging them. He noted that the commander was almost holding the civilians back on her own, and wondered briefly how people like her always managed to avoid return fire; walking through the worst barrages as if they were dodging lazy snowballs.

"We, uh, could throw some of the, uh, old power cells? they'd make a bang, maybe stun some folk?"

"Yeah, yeah, that could work." nodded the Petty Officer. "Throw some as we move forward, force 'em to keep their heads down."

Getting the nod from his superior, the enlisted folk slapped together some quick-and-nasty flash-bangs and lobbed them over the top of the barricade, hearing bangs and startled yells from the other side.

Without missing a beat, the Petty Officer yelled "Go!", and the group vaulted over the top.

Still shaken from the flash-bangs, most of the civilians still standing were taken down with stun rounds from the charging crew. Those that made to raise their weapons were quickly disabled by quick, precision shots from the Commodore; providing cover as Security sprinted towards the bulkhead control panel.

In one instant, a group of civilians rounded the corner beyond the panel, a dozen weapons rose to aim at the Security crew, and the enlisted man hit an emergency control on the panel.

*Bang! Bang! Bang!*

Down slammed the bulkheads, crashing to the ground. One by one they separated this row of docking ports from the rest of the connecting corridors, sealing off the cavernous docking hall.

Designed to resist plasma fire and vacuum in the event of a breach, they were very thick, and even the most sensitive ear couldn't hear the civilian-grade weapons fire attempting to burn through from the other side. They were the original bulkheads too; the civilians on the other side were liable to run out of weapon charge trying to get through.

"Room secure. Well done." declared the Petty Officer, giving the enlisted guy a friendly slap on the back.

As the civilians along the length of the dock surrendered their weapons, several Security staff collapsed, or tried to tend to their wounded.

For this battle was over, at last.


=^= End of Log =^=

Commodore Amanda Bleetman
First Officer
Starbase Versailles

&&

NPCs (Grey)

 

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