The New Holland Incident

"Helm," The Captain began to order. "Make best possible speed towards the transport. I want you to try and put us between it and the aliens."

"Aye Captain, changing course." His officer responded.

"Weapons, I want all available weapons trained on those hostile ships." Llewellyn commanded again, barely pausing to hear the previous confirmation of his orders before speaking again. "Throw whatever we can at them to get them to move. I want to push them as far from the transport as possible."

"I'm not sure this is a good idea Captain." Haynes piped up, cutting off the Con officers response. "We're already severely damaged as it is. Attracting more attention to ourselves is only going to put us in more unnecessary risk." Llewellyn sighed and rubbed his temples, letting out a pained grunt as he traced over a particular sore spot. Seeing her Captain not immediately dismissing her concerns, Haynes continued. "They already know where to hit to cripple us. We'll be giving them open sight lines."

Llewellyn locked eyes with Haynes, the concern was visible enough in her expression. The Captain knew that the odds of them leaving this skirmish alive had been steadily sinking by the minute. Hell, the whole crew knew it. They had been waiting for the inevitable ever since the first alien cannon round had tore through their ships hull. Llewellyn had overheard hushed conversations from his bridge crew, most of which were trying to make peace with the situation. Accepting the possibility that they were never going to see home again. Anyone who joined any of the armed services knew the possibility of death was there, but it was never truly tested until one was facing that mortality head on. The Captain rose from his chair, attracting the looks of some of his command crew.

"Commander, I understand you concerns. But without proper cover, those people down on that transport don't have a chance. They sure as hell didn't sign up for this and they don't deserve to be abandoned because we would rather save ourselves. We made a promise when we put on these uniforms to uphold the values of the British Commonwealth. And one of those values is that everyone, no matter race, creed or species, has a right to life, liberty and security." Llewellyn took a moment to look around the command room. Nearly all of his officers eyes were now on him. He hadn't really intended to make a speech, but it seemed the words had helped bolster his crews confidence, if even just a small amount. He probably could have gone on but time was of an essence right now. Instead he redirected himself to his officers. "Ensign Smyth, do you have weapons locks?"

"Aye sir. Ready on your command."

"Acknowledged." Llewellyn said, nodding slightly. He sat back in his chair and keyed the ship wide intercom. "All hands, this is the Captain. Brace for impacts and increased enemy fire. Damage control teams and non-combat personnel prepare for new orders." The Captain paused for a moment, cracking a small smile. "Also if any of you lads happen to see our guests, make sure to give them a warm welcome. Llewellyn out."

"All departments reporting standing by." XO Haynes reported, her concerned expression only slightly abated.

"Good." Llewellyn responded, double checking the XO's report on his own monitor. "Comms, send a flash tightbeam to the Churchill and let them know that we're going to be running interference."

"Message sent." Sub-Lieutenant Sheppard responded after a slight pause. "Receiving confirmation. HMS Churchill acknowledges and is standing by."

"Lets not keep them waiting then. Helm, all possible speed ahead. Weapons, you are weapons free on all targets of opportunity."

A flurry of 'Aye Captain' rang out across the bridge. By the course his helm officer had plotted the Battleaxe would be just about along side the alien transport in five minutes. Llewellyn was thankful that his engineering teams had been able to restore about a quarter of their top speed so the journey wouldn't be as agonizingly slow as it had been before. It wasn't long before the familiar whirring of their Point Defense Cannons once again resonated through the ship. It was even less time before the alien pirates began to react, pulling evasive maneuvers and seemingly going in exactly the direction Llewellyn hoped (but didn't count on) them going. The ship shuttered as another salvo of their precious few missiles were loosed from their tubes followed up by a sound the Captain had not heard in what seemed like forever. The dual, muted booms of their twin hypervelocity guns firing. Apparently his warfare officer had thought she had enough of an angle for an attempt.

Llewellyn watched on his monitor as the larger of the alien craft pulled a massively high-G maneuver to get out of the way of the incoming tungsten slugs. It was a good attempt, but the Battleaxe just didn't have the maneuverability or the speed restored yet to properly compensate for the big guns to be effective. Nonetheless it did seem to make the larger alien ship think twice and back off to reconsider the threat that the Battleaxe now posed. At thirty second out the shuttles began to detach from the transports hull. Leaving an eerily bright open spot when they took off, the interior light from the ship leaking out through the clear material of the emergency airlocks. Once all three were detracted, the shuttles made a hard turn and burn towards the Churchill. Llewellyn mentally cringed. A full burn maneuver like that in a ship without inertial dampening would be playing hell on the passengers inside.

As the Captain knew from first hand experience. Pilots were trained to deal with high-G. Along with drug cocktails and pressure flight suits they could deal with it without much issue. For the passengers however, they would be in for, quite likely, the most uncomfortable ride of their lives. 'Although, better to be uncomfortable for a short time than dead', Llewellyn mused. The three human shuttles streaking away from the transport seemed to gain some attention from the other alien pirates. More than likely now just realizing what the Human's plans were, began to move to intercept.

"Weapons, don't let them get a shot off on our people." Llewellyn said as calmly as he could, regardless of the adrenaline now rushing through him.

It was a little too late however as the smaller of the two shot off a volley of missile style weapons. Half of the Battleaxes available PDC's now tracked and engaged the objects. They didn't seem to have other evasive protocols other than going fast as they were easily picked off one by one by his ships hail of metal. A tense few minutes passed as the Human shuttles made their way towards the waiting Commonwealth ship. The Battleaxe continued to provide covering fire as the Churchill maneuvered to pick up the vulnerable craft. Scooping them up in its forward launch bay one after the other. When all was said and done they had apparently recovered approximately thirty-three individuals of varying species, all male, as well as half of their deployed Marines. The casualty report began to filter its way onto his terminal's monitor. Llewellyn didn't have much time to read it however as the alien ships had refocused their attention onto his.

New contacts appeared on his radar screen. More of the aliens missile-analogues were being fired at them. These ones however seemed to be more maneuverable than the last. Perhaps the aliens had changed their guidance protocols to better match the Battleaxes Point Defenses? It didn't seem to matter however as the four thousand rounds per minute of their PDC's blanketing fire knocked the majority of the weapons out. Two however did manage to get though. Impacting the Battleaxe's armored hull with extreme prejudice. Llewellyn could feel the vibrations from the impact and his terminal began throwing out damage reports.

"Sir! Damage teams report hull breaches and secondary explosions, port side, decks six through eight!" Lieutenant Belvins cried out.

"We've lost half the PDC's and missile tubes one, two, three and five on the port side!" His Warfare officer shouted out before Llewellyn could get a chance to acknowledge the previous report.

A flurry of data was now flowing to his terminal. Preliminary casualty and damage reports mostly. Ruptured electrical conduits and fires in non vacuum exposed parts of the ship. Coolant leaks and depressurization alarms... None of that seemed to matter though as another explosion rocked through the ship. The command deck's lighting flickered and went dead, backup batteries kicking in moments later, filling the room with a low red mood lighting. Thankfully the artificially gravity seemed to have been spared the hiccup, at least for now. The sudden blackout was still nonetheless concerning and the Captain instinctive turned his head to see what had happened. Unfortunately his terminal was now showing as disconnected and attempting to reboot.

"Report!" Llewellyn demanded, not waiting to see if his terminal would tell him first.

"Emergency core dump!" Haynes replied, frantically attempting to gather as much information as possible. "Enemy mass driver round punctured the main reactor casing! The system severed power and commenced a purge of the reaction chamber to prevent the reactor from going critical!"

"Engineering status? Is the team still there? Can we get power back?" The Captain asked, partly angry and partly terrified of what the answer would be.

"I'm sorry sir," Haynes began. "Engineering was sealed and vented to prevent the spread of radiation to the rest of the ship. The whole section is in a vacuum. There's no one there anymore."

The Captain clenched his fist and stood from his chair, attempting to force himself calm. "Weapons status!"

"My terminal is dead sir! Weapon controls are not responding!"

"Bloody fucking hell!" Llewellyn exclaimed, abandoning all hope of retaining his calm. "Someone give me something!" He demanded.

It was barely ten seconds before Llewellyn heard his helmsman, Midshipman Gary Connor, speak up. "Captain, sir, I still have a radar feed from the drone."

Llewellyn perked up, at least it was something. "Status!" The Captain's order bellowed.

"The drone is sort of banged up but I am able to see that last round went through us and then through the transport. It's currently decompressing." The officer explained, quickly continuing on. "The hostiles have ceased firing and appear to be slowly moving towards us. There seems to be too much damage or interference to tell any more than that however."

"Thank you Midshipman." The Captain said before turning to his XO. An anxious feeling was beginning to swell within him. "Thoughts XO?" Llewellyn inquired, although he was sure he knew what it meant.

"I think they mean to board us. We can't fight back now, and they know it." Commander Haynes replied, confirming the Captains fears.

"Well, I suppose there isn't much we can do about it." The Captain said, turning to his terminal and attempting to activate the ship wide intercom. Nothing happened. He crouched and retrieved his duty pistol from the deck where it had fallen (he had simply set it beside him in the chair since he lacked a proper holster), checking it to make sure it was undamaged. "I suppose we'll just have to let them come then."

Trivate Charters Transport Ship Hyande Val-Askanse

British Commonwealth Claimed System of 'New Holland'

"I see three guards. Two outside and one inside by the door." Vas said, relaying her camera findings to the three Marines standing next to her. "All the prisoners are right across the room from the door, just like they did with the males."

She had become rather comfortable with her role. A sense of professionalism and pride that she had never really felt before overrode her more instinctual thoughts. These alien warriors had come to rely on her and value her abilities. Even if it was something as basic as simply knowing a language they didn't or her knowledge of the ships systems. It was a curious sensation to be an integral part of a team, to have an opinion that mattered in a way that was still mind boggling to her. This wasn't like when she was co-piloting with Matha. He was always carefully watching everything she did, ready to step in at a moments notice and take control from her if things got difficult.

Now her knowledge was quite literally the determining factor between someone living or someone dying. Through her actions of simply telling her (she wanted to call them friends, but with all honesty she couldn't really tell if the British Marines were simply being courteous and professional to an alien who had something they needed or not) 'allies' where a person was located, she had become an accomplice to murder. Completely justified murder, but murder nonetheless. It was a little surreal that her actions had lead to the death of at least a dozen Breten Hvas pirates. But here she was, once again informing the Humans next to her the exact locations of their next targets.

"Should be able to breach and clear just the same as well." Edan remarked after Vas had finished showing all three of them exactly what she saw. His comment accented by the acknowledging head nod of his superior officer.

"Bravo team is just about caught up to us." Sergeant Lynn added. "We could wait for them to join up before we proceed."

"No time." Southers said, his tone flat and businesslike. Exactly as she had come to know him. "We have a limited window to extract these last hostages. Things are moving very quickly outside."

Vas wasn't really sure what that meant, but by the sound of it, it wasn't good.

"So we drop the first two guards and blow the door?" Edan asked. Vas noticed him tightening his grip on his rifle (which she had actually been recently informed wasn't actually a rifle but a 'semi-automatic shotgun' due to it not having any rifling, whatever that meant. It still looked like a rifle to her).

"Aye." Southers replied. "We'll slot the last one in the confusion and extract the hostages back to the shuttles. Bravo should be caught up by then."

No sooner had the 'Leftenant' stopped talking that Marine leader seemed to visibly stiffen, head upturning ever so slightly. Vas figured that he must be listening to something that is going on one of the other communications channels. The Lohi had to admit, she was quite curious as to how things were going in the 'outside'. Had the British starships been able to overcome and defeat the three Breten Hvas raiders? Or was their group about to get some very bad news? Vas knew from overhearing the Marines talk that communications between them and one of their ships had been very unreliable for quite a while. While it hadn't seemed to deter the group from attempting to complete their mission so far, Vas knew that there would soon come a point where the rescue part of their rescue operation would mean them having to leave the Hyande Val-Askanse. And whether or not there was a ship waiting to pick them up was something that was sure to be weighing on their minds. Thankfully that didn't seem to be the case... yet.

"The first three evac shuttles have taken off." 'Leftenant' Southers stated, to Vas's muted relief. "Charlie, Delta and Golf have taken off with them along with Riley and Sires. That includes your friend as well Miss Hiteal."

A pang of anxious solace washed over her. At least Rent was on his way to real safety now. Something that would evade her for at least a little while longer. Vas wanted to say something, but all she seemed to manage was an acknowledging nod. It appeared as though some of the Marines mannerisms were making their way into her own unconscious use. Appearing satisfied with the response, Southers urged the group onward. It wasn't long before they once again stopped, arriving at a junction in the corridor just out of sight of the cargo bay door and the two Siven who guarded it. With one last check of Vas's tablet to confirm that their targets had not moved, the Marines prepared their assault, pressing themselves against the bulkhead in a formation so that one was standing and the other kneeling.

Vas wasn't quite sure what to do with herself in this situation. It wasn't like the times before where she had helped Edan direct the other Marines. She couldn't just watch impartially from a screen anymore. It was now their turn to be straight in the middle of the action. And Vas knew that the British warriors would not shy away, she could hear it in their voices. This is what they wanted, what they trained for. It was extremely unlikely that they would let a lowly pilot with zero combat experience (shooting that Siven in the medical storage room had been something out of desperation and not intent, so it didn't count in her mind) have any kind of critical role in that effort. That was however until 'Leftenant' Southers spoke.

"Miss Hiteal," The Human leader started, Vas instinctively gave him her full attention. "I understand if this may be asking too much, seeing as you are not a professional soldier, but I require your assistance in a way that goes beyond translation and camera surveillance." He paused as Vas perked up, continuing on after a moment. "Since time is of the essence and there are only three of us, we are going to require your assistance with securing the area once we have eliminated the guards. It will be nothing terribly complicated," The Human Marine made sure to quickly add, noticing the increasing wide eyed stare of the Lohi woman. "We just need you to watch our rear while we clear the cargo bay."

"How do I watch a rear?" Vas inquired, wondering about how literal the translation of the word was that she just heard. Because looking at their behinds was most definitely not what they were referring to... hopefully.

"It's simple." Southers answered. "When we clear out the guards, I would like you to get behind this corner," The Marine pointed a single gloved finger at the bulkhead where the other two Marines were bracing against, "and watch this hallway. If you see anything that doesn't look like us, I want you to yell. Have your rifle with you, just in case. Can you do that?"

That didn't sound so difficult, Vas thought. They just wanted her to make sure that nothing would sneak up on them. It was an incredibly reasonable, and smart, request. Vas grabbed her rifle and stood up, giving 'Leftenant' Southers a clear nod.

"Yes, I can do that... sir." The young woman said as confidently as she could.

"Superb." Souther said, turning back to face his subordinates. "Lavigne, Lynn, flash and clear. It's on you Sergeant."

With a quick nod, the Marine sergeant tapped Edan on the shoulder and held up three digits. Without a word (that Vas could hear anyways) Edan reached into one of his armor's vest pockets and retrieved a cylindrical object about the size of her fist. The Marine pulled a tab off the top, letting it fall to the deck with a barely audible 'clink'. His right hand continued to hold the cylinder, depressing some kind of handle on the side as he did. Sergeant Lynn began to count down. Three digits, two digits, one digit... Edan exploded into action. Quickly he stepped around the corner and threw the cylinder, which Vas realized now must be a grenade. A frantic yell from the Siven guards were muffled seconds later by a loud bang following a bright flash. Just the reflection from the corridors walls was enough for Vas's instinctual eye lenses to descend and cause her good ear tubes to ring at the sonic reverberations. She couldn't imagine how it must have been to be right next to such a weapon. Probably not deadly, but certainly not pleasant.

Lynn poked himself out around the corner not a moment later, rifle letting out a short series of bangs as he opened fire on the blinded and deafened guards. It was over almost as soon as it started. The foreign smell of whatever the Humans used as propellant for their weapons wafted around her nose, causing her to clench and sneeze. She didn't allow herself more than a moment to wonder as Southers urged her forward to stay with the group as they rounded the corner. Edan and Lynn checked the bodies, confirming that the two holes in each guard's chest were fatal. Satisfied, the Marines pushed the two limp Breten Hvas soldiers to the side and away from the cargo bay door. Edan and Lynn then propped themselves up against each side of the frame's opening, weapons up and ready. Southers approached the door, seemingly sizing it up for a moment before producing another one of the explosive bricks from his vest's pocket.