[USS Vanguard] RPG: "Everything's Cool"?

  • From: "Andy W. Ho" <andywoho@xxxxxxxxx>
  • To: USS-Vanguard <ncv80221@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
  • Date: Mon, 14 Oct 2002 09:47:07 -0700 (PDT)

Fleet Capt. Dominic Santos
USS Vanguard
Approx. 24 hours following Peter-Jan's "Let's Have Some Fun"

OoC: The away team (Mandrake, Khan, Highwaij, E'thexx, Darkwater and
Desdemona) are en route to the temporal transporters. Santos and
Merchant meet Soman and McCaw in the temporal transporter bay.

Quetan is in command of the Vanguard on the bridge. D'Angelo, Chase and
Chad Rea are on the bridge.


"Bridge to the captain," said Ens. Chad Rea.

"This is Santos. Go ahead."

"We've assumed Earth orbit. We've received top-level clearance from
Earth command."

"The away team are nearly ready. Stand by."

"Aye, sir."

Santos turned toward the away team: Mandrake, Khan, Highwaij, E'thexx,
Darkwater, and Barrett-Brown.

Elizabeth Merchant seemed anxious, and Nick knew all too well what her
moods could be. She would try to hide her anxiety, but she could be
even more of a handful when troubled.

"Now, remember," she lectured the away team, as if giving a farewell to
her children, "they are a superstitious and technologically regressed
people. They still believe, for example, that taking their photographic
likeness will 'steal their immortal souls.' If you run into any
trouble, if you appear to these people, don't run--remember the pass
phrase 'Everything's cool.' Please repeat that now."

"'Everything's cool!'" the away team exclaimed.

"Right, right. That seems to pacify these people. And if you mean
'everything' or 'the entirety,' say 'the Enchilada.' I wish I had more
time to give you a language lesson!'"

"Commissioner, they need to go. Now. The window of opportunity is
reaching its peak."

"I know, Nick, I know. Well, let's go."

The away team arrived at Cargo Bay 3, which had been transformed to
house the temporal transporters. Sam McCaw stood by to operate the
controls. Soman Drath looked on, smiled when he saw Capt. Santos and
approached the group.

"Everything's ready," he said, glancing quickly at Merchant. "Wish I
was going with them."

"Secretly? So do I!" Santos said.

The group laughed easily.

Nick turned to Elizabeth and addressed Sam, as well.

"Now, should they have their cloaking suits operational as they

"No! It's a delicate procedure. As far as we understand it, it's like
transporting, but not really. It would take too long to explain now,"
Merchant wrung her hands.

Santos bristled. It SHOULD have been explained to him earlier. He
suppressed his annoyance.

"Mr. Mandrake, you're in charge." Santos handed Cynan the neutrino
communicator. "Mr. Highwaij, you'll serve as his second."

"No assassinations," Mandrake turned to Highwaij. She'ra chuckled.

The two men had seen action together aboard a Borg vessel. After that,
a few Twentieth Century Luddites didn't seem like much trouble.

Mandrake nodded toward the group, and they each assumed a spot aboard
the temporal transporter. The contraption resembled a Kirk-era
transporter, interestingly enough.

McCaw looked at Mandrake and gave him a jaunty little salute.

"Santos to Bridge."

"Bridge here."

"What's your status?"

"We're green across the board. Atmospheric interference is as clear as
it's going to get. We have a five minute window of opportunity."

"Everything's cool," Mandrake said, smirking.

"Temporal coordinates locked in. They'll materialize at Port 39, what's
known as 'Fisherman's Wharf.'"

"Is it very crowded?"

"Not at that hour. They're going in at 0200 hours. It's all but
abandoned. They're within a 25 mile radius of universities, defense
installations, communications relays." McCaw looked up. "If World War
Three started anywhere, it started here."

"Can I see it?" Santos asked.

"I don't see why not."

The viewscreen shimmered and displayed a hazy image--starlight playing
across a peaceful body of water. A group of buildings that resembled
hangars stood over the water.

"It's so much like it is now. Hard to believe the War could have begun

"A lot of their technology, such as it is, originated from this area.
For a 'peaceful' region, they had many war bases."

Santos nodded.

McCaw turned toward the controls.

McCaw said, "Temporal coordinates are locked in. October 14, 1990 'old
dating system'. We have their patterns. We're looking good."

"Good hunting," Santos nodded.

They nodded back. Highwaij looked intent. Barrett-Brown had her eyes
closed and was muttering something under her breath.

"We'll see you soon." Santos said. "Energize."

McCaw?s fingers played across the board. Their patterns disappeared in
a starlight field. Santos noted with some interest that the cones of
light rotated around them, glowing a bright green.

"So that's what time travel looks like," Santos thought.

Just then, a red alert klaxon rang out loudly, making them all jump.

Santos glanced quickly at Soman, and tilted his head toward the comm.

"Captain to the bridge. What's going on up there!"

"Captain, Quetan here. We have a temporal wormhole, bearing 180 mark

"Did we originate it?"

"Negative, Captain. I..."

"Stand by." Santos was next to McCaw in the next second. "Get them

McCaw studied his board quickly. "I can't. They're almost there.
Pulling them back now could be...bad."

"How bad?"


"I get it. If we can't get them back, you need to push them through."

McCaw opened his mouth to say, "Aye," but before he could, Zena was
back on comm.

"Captain, we have a Vorgon chrono vessel coming through the wormhole!
It's big--a Ch'under-class raider."

"Let's go--double time. Sam, no matter what happens, make sure they get
through. And--you." Santos shouted back at Merchant. "Stay here."

They were off the turbolift and on the bridge in moments.

Chase was at the helm and Soman stood next to d'Angelo at Tactical.

"Report," Santos said to Quetan.

"They're approaching us on a slow intercept."

"Hail them."

"I already tried."

"Open hailing frequencies."

"Vorgon vessel, this is Captain Dominic Santos in command of the
Federation vessel Vanguard. Leave this system immediately. Your
intrusion will not be tolerated."

There was a pause.

"They're responding."

"We are the Vorgon. Do not be afraid."

"Captain, Admiral Kent, on priority."

"On screen."

The viewscreen split. On the left hand side, the Vorgon vessel crept
toward Vanguard. On the right, Admiral Kent appeared, her face
betraying none of the worry she must have felt.

"Nick, the Mars Defense Line is on its way." Kent's even English accent
was reassuring and commanding. "I need you to take command of the

A Prometheus-class, a Miranda-class, an Intrepid-class and two
Defiant-class vessels appeared on the viewscreen, flanking the Vorgon

"Admiral, this is Santos. We have a temporal away team in transit."

"What's their status?"

"McCaw, this is Santos. What's going on?"

"Captain, this is Sam. There's some sort of...jamming."

"Get around it."

"We'll try."

To the admiral: "They're in mid-transport. Our engineer found some sort
of temporal jamming."

"You have to get them through or risk losing them."

"Yes, sir."

To Chad Rea: "Open a frequency to all ships."

"Channel open."

"This is Dominic Santos. I am taking command of the fleet. Do not fire
unless I fire first, even if fired upon."

Soman turned to Santos. "They're acknowledging."

Santos: "Saint Louis and Cortez, take a flanking position on the Vorgon
vessel. Crockett and Swansea, stay on my port and starboard and form a
perimeter. Hyacinth, I need you to hang back and provide support."

"The Vorgon are hailing us again."

Vorgon: "This is not necessary. Cease your activities in this area."

Santos: "Pull back, Vorgon vessel. I won't warn you again."

Soman: "They're powering their main deflector dish!"

Santos: "Disable it."

The Vanguard fired its disruptor cannon at the Vorgon vessel.

Soman: "Direct hit! No effect. They're returning fire."

The Vanguard rocked.

The Saint Louis and Cortez opened fire on the Vorgon vessel. The Vorgon
vessel seemed to be absorbing the fire on a large shield "bubble"
surrounding the vessel. It seemed not to notice it was taking fire.

"Damage report!"

"Damage negligible. Captain, they got our temporal systems," Rea said.

"Santos to McCaw. What's your status?"


"McCaw here, Captain. The away team are gone."

"Did they hit their coordinates?

"I'm...not sure."

"Find out!"


Santos turned toward the viewscreen. Two "fireballs" raced toward
Vanguard. The first struck the Vanguard so hard, she tilted. The second
caused a number of panels to explode on the bridge.

[Seconds later.]

Soman Drath crawled out from behind a panel and touched his head
gingerly. He winced. There was a large bump that would only grow

"Injuries?" he said.

A few moans and groans, but everyone stood. The Vorgon vessel was gone,
but it could return.

Quetan shouted: "Drath!"

Soman was next to her immediately. His eyes opened wide as he saw who
she was kneeling by. She showed him her palm and the blood that covered

Soman looked down at the captain. Santos was drenched in cold sweat,
his eyes were screwed shut.

Quetan said, "There's a puncture wound in his back. It goes all the way
out the other side."

"Soman to Droin: medical emergency." To Quetan: "Don't move him." He
examined the captain. "That's not from the battle. This was caused by a
projectile weapon." Soman took off his tunic and laid it across Santos.

"Helm--steady as she goes," Soman ordered. "And stand by."


"How do you know?" Quetan asked Soman.

"We did our share of these injuries during the Occupation. We didn't
have a lot of energy weapons."

Droin appeared on the bridge and took in the scene. She was next to
Santos immediately with a med kit. She looked at her tricorder.

"Beam us to sickbay immediately." Droin, kneeling by Santos,
disappeared in a flash of light.

Quetan turned toward Soman.

"What now??

[To be continued]

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