Orbit, Part 1
Posted on Mon Mar 31st, 2025 @ 8:48pm by Colonel Josiah McEntyre & Commander Saul Whitford & Commander Gunnar Magnusson & Sub-Commander T'shir & Lieutenant Commander Gabriel Calhoun & Lieutenant Commander Alexander Coleman & Major Dranoel Leomas & Major Iria & Lieutenant Kayoko Himeji
2,394 words; about a 12 minute read
Mission:
The Campaign for Coridan
Location: Coridan Orbit
Timeline: 30th November, 2156
Meanwhile in Orbit
While the MACOs were fighting their way to cover, in orbit, the Unicorn and Task Force Gamma had their own work cut out for them.
Elsewhere
After spending a busy shift in the forward armoury, Dranoel felt a quiet sense of satisfaction at having caught and corrected several warhead misalignments. He had carefully re-seated torpedo warheads, double-checking the casings to ensure they were aligned to Starfleet standards. In the process, he discovered a few potentially faulty or tampered units—an unsettling find for any armoury officer. Fortunately, his colleagues joined him in re-inspecting the rest, and the team confirmed no further irregularities.
During the final scans, Dranoel also uncovered an alignment issue between one of the launchers and the targeting sensors. It was a relief to have uncovered the fault before the ship’s weapons were needed again. The Unicorn still bore scars from the skirmishes since arriving at Coridan, though the vessel itself had been given a reprieve while both warring sides focused on reinforcing their ground operations.
As Dranoel finished his armoury tasks, he couldn’t help wondering how the conflict on the planet’s surface was progressing. He wasn’t privy to all the strategic details—that wasn’t the nature of his role—but he appreciated the brevity of calm while it lasted.
His duty shift at the aft section of the bridge approached, where an armoury officer always stood by to fill in for the Chief Armoury Officer, who doubled as the Executive Officer. Dranoel rode the turbolift clutching a PADD full of diagnostics and inventory reports. It was the tail end of Gamma shift, and he’d managed to grab a quick breakfast along the way. With everything he’d just uncovered in the forward armoury, he dispatched a note to the Rear Armoury consoles, asking them to run a similar check on their ordnance and launchers while there was still downtime.
On the bridge, things were calm. The day to day business of running a starship continued. The Gamma Shift Tactical officer was trying to finish the last of his logs before he would be relieved by the XO. It would be a tense moment when the sensors detected a wing of Romulan Warbirds at extreme sensor range and closing rapidly.
Stepping on to the Unicorn's Bridge, Whitford was looking forward to a rundown of what had occurred during Gamma Shift. Incidents with the Romulans had lessened to a quiet simmer as the Coalition and the Empire maneuvred around each other to work out the best way of supporting their forces on the surface. Due to her size and firepower, the Unicorn had so far been afforded a wide berth, allowing some crucial repairs to be enacted.
Spotting the Tactical Officer, he began to wave him over when he noticed the Romulan ships on the Main Viewer. 'Bring us to Red Alert!' he barked across the Bridge, 'all hands to their stations, ready weapons. He rubbed a hand against his cheek then called out to the Comm station, 'inform the Fleet that we've made sensor contact with a wing of Warbirds, we'll move to engage, ask them to watch our backs and the hole we leave behind.'
'Helm, get us up to impulse, plot a course towards the Romulans.'
"On it!" Kayoko called as he put the ship hard to port, banking the Unicorn away from the planet.
The moment Dranoel stepped onto the bridge, however, any notion of downtime evaporated. Commander Whitford—the senior officer—called for a Red Alert, ordering the Unicorn to move against the incoming warbirds. With the Chief Armoury Officer taking the center chair in his role as Executive Officer, Dranoel moved swiftly to the tactical station. He offered a brief nod to the Gamma shift tactical officer, who was rotating off-duty, relieved to see a fresh face take over. They exchanged silent acknowledgments—one heading for rest, the other into the thick of action.
As Dranoel brought up the tactical displays, he caught some of the audio of the Colonel's urgent transmission: the team on the surface was pinned down by enemy anti-aircraft fire. Glancing at the sensor readings, Dranoel confirmed the presence of three T’varo-class warbirds in orbit. The distinctive green hulls hung ominously against the planet’s curve, their disruptors lancing bright bursts of plasma energy down onto Coridan’s surface. Dranoel felt a familiar jolt of adrenaline—he’d recalled during his service with the Vulcan Argosy, where he’d also operated tactical stations on some Vulcan ships. It was mostly to root out the remnants of the High Command's forces around Vulcan.
He swiftly initiated a targeting sequence, “bookmarking” key points on each warbird’s hull for potential strikes. The red alert lighting cast the bridge in a pulsing glow while the klaxon echoed overhead, but Dranoel’s focus was razor-sharp. Thanks to his experience in the Argosy—and the Syrrannites’ covert struggles against the Vulcan High Command—he knew exactly how critical timing and precision could be in a battle scenario.
His console beeped, confirming target locks. In the corner of the display, shield integrity and weapon charge levels scrolled across the screen. One mental note lingered: the Unicorn had sustained damage before, and any misalignment in launchers might prove catastrophic now. Yet Dranoel’s earlier checks gave him confidence that the ship’s weapons were as ready as they could be.
Whitford’s communicator beeped.
“Unicorn, Yankee 6-Bravo, Overlord is down, Overlord is down. Location Jonial Canyon Sector Romeo-6-4, unable to retrieve. Taking heavy AA fire, how copy?”
Swearing under his breath, Whitford keyed his comm and responded. 'Understood - Overlord down. Romulan Warbirds on-station. Unicorn moving to eliminate - hang in there.'
"Unicorn, be advised, Counting massive Romulan force moving on crash site, count is at least 1 quadruple 4, how copy?" The pilot replied to Whitford.
'We'll bring the fire, copy,' Whitford said with firm conviction.
Spotting his deputy, he called out, 'Major Leomas, I need targeting solutions on those Warbirds. The MACO won't be able to take much of their fire.'
The warbirds moved into formation, firing on the fleet. Unicorn groans and rocks, it's shields flashing as they take impacts from the Romulan's Plasma weapons against them. Sparks fly with each successive hit to the shields and hull.
“Targets locked,” Dranoel reported calmly, his voice cutting through the tension on the bridge, after hearing Commander Whitford's order. The warbirds continued firing on the surface. Every second counted, and Dranoel knew his role: keep the Unicorn armed, ready, and on target.
Even amidst the flurry of activity, Dranoel maintained his composure, relying on his training and the sense of purpose he’d honed on Vulcan. The Unicorn might be battered, but so was the enemy—and if all went well, Dranoel’s meticulous attention to detail in the Forward Armory would soon prove its worth.
"Helm, rotate the ship, bring us round so our our ventral weapons face the planet," Whitford barked. "Dranoel, well done on those warbirds - keep em busy, you'll only have dorsal weapons to keep at bay." The man turned in his seat towards the communications station. "Comms, get the flagship on the line, we need some back up."
Sub-Commander T'Shir turned just enough to make eye contact with Commander Whitford. "Commander, we have received a communication from the flagship indicating that they were attacked and are currently engaged in battle and are requesting assistance."
T'shir paused for a brief second, clearly listening to something. She pressed a button at the communications station and continued. "Admiral Ve'lak has also engaged with Romulan forces in the asteroid belt and is reporting heavy resistance."
Whitford turned to the Vulcan, expression grim. He knew she was only relaying the chatter, but she couldn't be serious, could she? They couldn't abandon their people on the surface. The man froze for a second, thinking. 'Inform the flagship we'll be right there.' He paused again, and wrung a hand, 'please communicate that in the appropriate parlance, Sub-Commander.'
T'Shir bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement and turned back toward her station to relay the message.
The excitement was growing inside him. A thought had just occurred.
"Dranoel, how fast can you calculate a ballistic projectile course for four objects, say construction pod-sized, to hit the Romulan ground forces, causing minimal casualties to our own?" Whitford asked his deputy.
Before he realised what was actually asked of him he had begun those calculations, Dranoel was three-quarters through already when he glanced over at the Commander and raised a very Vulcan-like eyebrow at his superior. "Fast sir-"
"Excellent," Whitford said, and slapped an internal comm. "Commander Calhoun, we're going to need your expertise to rig four construction pods for fly-by-wire acceleration into the planet's atmosphere - meet me in the Hangar Bay."
“Fly by wire, huh? I need to get some components from the cargo bay, but that shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll meet you down there, Commander,” confirmed Calhoun.
'Copy that, Commander,' Whitford remarked as he broke out into a trot on the way to the turbolift. "Sub-Commander, you have the Bridge, start moving us towards the flagship, best speed."
"-wait, what, sir?" He asked slowly but was cut off by the Executive officer. He completed the calculations with the occasional glance up. Dranoel called out. "Do we not only have 4?" He inquired of Commander Whitford. "We do need those sir," he added a moment later.
Whitford popped his head around the jam of the turbolift. 'I don't know about you, Major, but I don't intend to do any major construction work during this war. They're taking up space!' He slipped back into the turbolift and keyed in his destination.
T'shir stood up from her station and took a few steps toward the conn. "Understood, Commander."
Whitford hurried for the turbolift, a bounce to his step. It wouldn't be a complete disaster if he had his way.
"Lieutenant Himeji, you heard the Commander's orders. Is the course laid in?" T'Shir asked.
Kayoko looked back over her shoulder briefly. "Aye, course has set in and plotted," she said. She looked over at the empty Navigation console. Since it had been damaged it was unmanned and Kayoko had been managing both Navigation and Flight Control from the helm.
Concern filled Dranoel as he carried on his duties, he glanced at T'Shir as the Vulcan took the center chair. "Subcommander, should we discreetly alert our ground forces?"
"Commander Whitford just left the Bridge with a plan to assist the ground forces. If he believed there was a tactical purpose to alert them, he would have done so," T'shir answered curtly.
"Understood," Dranoel replied, he had his doubts. It could be possible that in the excitement of his plan the Commander may have forgotten that they should alert their ground forces. He decided to not push it.
"Commander Magnusson, your area of expertise is defensive technologies, is it not," T'shir stated. It was not a question. "What is our current status regarding shield strength and is there anything we can do to fortify ourselves while we are in route to assist the other vessels."
The tall, platinum haired science officer turned his head toward T’Shir. “Yes Ma’am, you are correct. Our screens are currently holding at seventy-two percent,” he said. “As of now, the only means we have of fortifying the shields is to take them offline and recharge the emitters. Given the circumstances, I do not think that is wise.” He paused for a long second. “I am still writing the code for reconstituting shields mid-cycle.”
"If I may, we could re-route hull polarisation energy to the shields?" Dranoel asked, he wasn't sure as Vulcans didn't have that feature in their ships.
"We may need that extra protection, should our shields fail, Major," T'shir responded. "However, we should prepare to divert power from all unnecessary systems. Order the crew out of all nonessential areas of the ship, we may need to lock down these areas and reroute life support to other areas of the ship if we are to receive damage. For now, shut down all nonessential functions, and begin rerouting power."
"Commander Magnusson, Major Leomas, work together to see what can be achieved without compromising other defenses or our armament," T'shir ordered.
Dranoel nodded, his response swift and professional. "Aye, SubCommander," he replied before turning his attention to the task at hand.
As he worked, his gaze had briefly flicked toward the Chief Science Officer, a thought forming even as his hands moved over his console. With no time for discussion, he quickly drafted a message and sent a few tactical ideas through the system.
One concept stood out—deploying extra armor plating externally on the hull, or, better yet, positioning detached plating beyond the ship, similar to how shields functioned. The floating plates could take direct hits, buying the primary shields time to regenerate between impacts.
It had been a long shot, but perhaps Magnusson would have insights on its feasibility. With that, Dranoel sent the idea through, waiting to see what the Sciences Chief thought of the proposal.
Gunnar ran a hand through his tousled platinum mane, exhaling deeply through his nose. “Routing more power will certainly reduce the recharge time for the shield grid,” he said plainly. “And I like the hull plating idea, but I have serious concerns about how to deploy them; I think we should stick closer to the hull. Or maybe something less technological, like an ablative chemical foam coating?”
"Aye. We do have transporters that could be aligned with shifting frequencies of the shield grids that we can make holes in to make the transport. Or beam the plates just outside and tractor beam them out past the shields into place?" Dranoel replied with two options he could think of, the third that came was having shuttlepods delivery the plates into position and have several do so on rotation. It was not an ideal recommendation as it put lives at risk.
Before T'shir could respond to the recommendations the crew heard to low booms as the ship shook from taking its first hit.
As the Bridge settled T'shir calmly replied. "We are out of time, Gentlemen."
~To Part 2~
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