View Full Version : Star Trek: USS Crystilia - WIP

The Dyslexic One
July 24th, 2006, 12:30 AM
Chapter 0 - year 2383 - Stardate 61202.16

"Captain, the Fed ship is still closing," said the Breen at the tactical station as the stolen ship tried to shake itself apart.

The Breen that had been the first officer and now called herself Captain, commanded the Breen at the Flight Control Station, "Increase our speed."

"Tell that to engineering. I'm at maximum warp."

"The main warp drive files have been deleted," said the Breen at one of the other crew stations.

"Then we will have to kill them. Activate weapon systems. Target the crew areas, we take that ship to replace this, this... this waste of resources. A Fed Nova has to be better than this."


"Uh, Captain, we are over taking the stolen ship. She is only doing warp 3.7," said the flight control officer to the man who had been put in command only hours ago.

"Good, drop to warp 5 and scan her," ordered the Captain. The ship stopped trying to shake its self apart. Subspace in this sector was rough, even the best Starfleet ships had to run at a slower speed.

"Four Breen life signs on the USS Crystilia Sir, no others," replied the crewman at the ship's science station.

"Looks like the former first officer over there is having a hard time following some basic rules," said Lieutenant Commander Jordan Hichoch, who had been the captain of the USS Crystilia before the mutiny, if you would call it that.

"What is going on with the Crystilia? Why is she only Doing Warp 3.7?" asked the ships first officer.

"The Breen did something or things that triggered some flags in the system, like not keeping the logs up to date. Planted some nasty ones in the computer core. The computer has to have dumped the some of files on how to configure the warp fields for max efficiency if that is all they are doing. We would never catch they if all the warp drive file where good. I hope I can get them to dump the files for the shields and weapons."

"You back-door-ed your own computer? Nasty."

"Get all the weapons off line. Keep the personal phasers powered down. Do not bring the shields to tactical configuration. If they hail us do not wait for me to tell you to move out of range fast and get the tactical systems up. I'm trying to get them to try to shoot first. Bring us into long range for photon torpedo fire and hold us steady. We are to act like we are not a threat."


"The Fed is coming into the edge of our range," said the Breen at weapons.

"Helm, cut to warp three and drop by them as close as you can. Weapons, fire a spread of torps to box them in, then take the shield down with the aft phasers and pinhole the crew area with the front phaser after as we pass by the Fed. Do not destroy the ship."

Four photon torpedoes launched from the front of the Crystilia and arced around toward the pursuing starship. Then the distance closed - fast - as the Crystilia went to warp three. The first volley was followed by three more volleys at three second intervals. "We will pass within 300 meters of the Fed. Firing phasers— missed – the damn board has just reconfigured itself. I have no weapons or shields controls." The two aft phaser strips that rolled vertically over the rear of the starship had fired at 135 degrees to each other and over 60 degrees off target as they wasted their energy lighting empty space.

"What!?! Get a dampening field up. I know that will work, it's not a Fed system."

"The Crystilia's shields– " started the Tactical Officer.

"Come around and close back up with them. Match speed and course. You may start to bring the tactical systems on line," said Lt Cdr Jordan Hichoch as he stood up. "Thank you for the uses of your fine ship people, now I need to get to the transporter room to join the boarding parties. I have the keys to the Crystilia."

"Good luck Captain." returned the ships first officer.

"The Crier has put up a dampening field, Sir," said the Bolian woman at the science station.

Lt Cdr Hichoch scowled, she was the USS Crystilia, hull number NX 74208. "Do you have any tactical systems back up?" He sat back down to think. The dampening field is not a feature of the Crystilia that I know of, he thought.

"Shields. Still powering up the torpedo launchers and phasers, uh, It is not a tactical system, but we have the tractor beams coming on line– Now Sir," said the Tactical Officer.

"Can you lock onto her? Pull her out of warp?" asked the Captain.

"Uh, maybe. It could buckle some hull plates on the Crystilia but we should be safe Sir."

"Do it," ordered Captain Jordan Hichoch.

The ship shuddered, but the main view screen showed they and the Crystilia had dropped out of warp. One of the warp nacelle pylons looked bent on the Crystilia and she was venting drive plasma from the emergency vents in the engineering section. "Damage reports are coming in, other than some minor shaking and main science reporting we messed up the last five minutes of subspace observations with our cowboy-ing we came through in good shape, uh, what is cowboy-ing?" asked the Bolian woman at the science station.

"Launch shuttles as soon as we can. Move it!" ordered Captain Johnson.


The Breen Captain climbed to her feet. Smoke and sparks filled the air around her. She called out "Damage!?!"

The Breen who had been at the helm pushed the remains of the Flight Control Station off himself. "Not good. We lost a warp plasma conduit, shutting the gates to the affected nacelle threw all the plasma back into the rest of the systems. I could not vent the surge"

"You fool, how are we going to rebuild plasma levels now. You override my blocking of the vents" said the Breen at tactical. His refrigeration suit was burned.

"I couldn't vent the surge. And venting plasma to the outside in better then venting it inside."

The engineer eased back into his seat. "The emergency vents gave when we fried the EPS taps powering the gate's confinement field. The EPS grid is half fried." A loud thump sounded. "Including some of the sensor's power taps. The feds are here."

"Computer: Activate auto-destruct. Authorization, I'm the Captain, so up yours Starfleet fools, Omega Three white Four. Ten minute countdown. To the shuttle bay."


Phaser and disruptor fire crisscrossed down the hall way from the airlock to the mess hall, "what do we need to do to stop the self destruct Captain?" asked one of the security men hiding behind the door frame.

"I can do it from here." The middle-aged man palmed a wall terminal in the airlock. "Computer: Abort destruct sequence. Authorization, Hichoch-Delta-13-Gamma."

"ID scan failed, data stream corrupted in inline subprocessor node," returned the ship's computer.

"Tricorder?" demanded the Captain. One of the other security officers slid her tricorder across the flour to him. "Thanks, now echoing the display and... That cunning gal. Well, there is more then one way into the system. Ship's computer: Load to main computer and run holographic program Yeowemen Betty Sheila Bea Willing. Parameters: Operations Officer, Secretary 69 CX. Scenario, Captain's night off. Execute."

The three security officers with him looked puzzled.

Captain Jordan Hichoch tapped his combadge, "Captain to Secretary 69 CX, you have the bridge, now update the crew list from the comm logs."

"Aye aye, Captain honey, the list is updated. If I could be of any other assistance, just ask," came the reply from his combadge.

"Do you still have your command authorization codes?"

"Yes honey. Do we need to grant command authorization to new crew members?" This got the Captain even more puzzled looks.

"Not till we clean out the system. Please abort the auto-destruct." He regarded the three crew men with him. "The ship's computer system wanted more then one officer to ok some things. And the Crystilia has had only one officer at times. It is a royal pain in the ass to get Starfleet to do it remotely, so Lee and I fixed it."

"Do you want me to lock out the ex-First Officer while I'm at it sweety?" asked the program.

"Make it so," ordered the ship's Captain. The count down stopped and the screens and lights went back to normal.

"Oh, thank-you, I do not like the thought of blowing up with the ship," said the program.

"You and me both honey," whispered Jordan. The Captain yelled out "Bey, I'm taking the ship back now. Your call if you surrender, die, or abandon-ship." The Captain was answered with more disruptor fire.

Moments later there was a series of flashes of light and the fire stopped. Good old photon grenades set for heavy stun speculated Jordan Hichoch. "The ship is yours, Captain. Sorry about taking so long," called a voice from the other side of the mess hall.

"Good job Lieutenant, if we can put the mutineers in your ship's brig?"

"I'll check," the Lt. (jr.) tapped his combadge. "We have secured the Crystilia. Can we send over the prisoners? And by the look of things the Crystilia is going to need a tow."

"Starbase 626 is sending out a tug. Rear Admiral Connor Loylel sends his congratulations on a job well done," replied the other ship,

"Rear Admiral Connor Lowell send his congratulations?" Captain Jordan Hichoch shock his head. That was less likely then a Ferengi giving a refund. That man holds a grudge.