"Misspent Youth"

[Kansas 0]

03.04.09

USS Agincourt NCC-81762

“Misspent Youth”

 

The engagement with the rogue Breen and Ferengi raider ships was going on a bit too long. The damage to the Agincourt was no where near anything significant, but if the battle didn’t turn one way or the other (although, I was much looking forward to that turn being in our favor), we’d have a slight problem.

 

As the tactical overview for the skirmish stood now, a couple of the interior access corridors along the port outer deck had sustained damage to a couple of the corridor access consoles imbedded in the bulkheads thanks to a couple of hits from the raiders that had gotten in under our shields. Colonel Harper had gotten stuck en route to the main bridge when the emergency bulkheads on one of the compromised decks had slapped in place, so that left me in combat scramble mode until the chief shark made it to the bridge.

 

The Damage Control teams were being kept busy repairing the minor damage, but according to the preliminary updates from the on site squad leaders, no one was seriously injured and the equipment would be replaced within the next twenty minutes. And as far as I knew, Medical hadn’t recorded any serious casualties either.

 

Putting aside the fact that it was two to one, the Agincourt should have made short, decisive work of the double teaming, recalcitrant raiders. And since they kept peppering us, I could only assume that my command tactics sucked, or I was missing the big tactical picture.

 

A sound of screeching metal came over the internal communications followed shortly thereafter by the inertial dampeners compensating for the choppy turbulence caused by the hit from the opposing ships. An unmanned engineering console on the far end of the bridge control area flickered and then finally shot out some sparks, blowing out the surface of the console. The Tactical officer got a live update feed going on the main view screen, and called out where the last major hit had landed on the exterior hull of the ship, and again, it was just enough to be annoying rather then life threatening.

 

The split screen chart on the main viewer, a green grid over lay on a black background with various orange, red or blue highlight pattern objects showed a static view on the left of the Agincourt ship specs as well as the battle in real time with the principle objects in the battle moving here and there within the grid on the right grid overlay. The ‘Court side of the screen showed any battle damage to the ship areas outlined in red, while the skirmish section showed the Agincourt and the two enemy ships in triangle target shaped icons as they zipped here and there across the screen grid with various maneuvers. Years of staring at such a tactical grid had accustomed me to taking in the visual situation with a glance, while my mind immediately started searching for viable combat solutions per my security training.

 

I was all over the bridge, going from officer to officer, control station to control station, barking out orders and taking on the fly verbal updates and reports as the bridge staff relayed their information to me. I’m not one to hover over the bridge officers at their stations like a micro managing senior command officers, as that sort of thing used to drive me stark raving bonkers during my cadet training missions.

 

And to be honest, I was constantly on the move because I haven’t mastered the art of staying seated on the command chair as of yet. I’m sorry, but if people are shooting at the ship, and I happen to be commanding, how in the hell are you supposed to just sit there in the command chair? I give Colonel Harper major credit, because I’ve actually seen her keep her rear end on the damn thing during a ruckus.

 

Besides, if I forced myself to stay there, I’m quit sure that claw marks would end up on the upholstery by the end of an engagement due to my excitability, so for now I maintain the mobility circling the bridge thing.

 

I’m also the paws on type, always have been, and so I wanted to quickly touch base with all the officers on the bridge as they reported in. I’m sure my in born curiosity is also a driving factor for the one on one, and no feline jokes, please?

 

Another hit impacted somewhere on the dorsal hull area, and the inertial dampeners informed me that they were not happy with my ship to ship tactical command skills.

 

This skirmish was rapidly unfolding as a surprise to me all around, putting aside the fact that combat is always a kick to the throat; the raider ships, instead of maneuvering as down and dirty pirates from the back space cargo lanes should, kept going into almost military-like training and attack patterns of the space naval variety. It just didn’t make sense?

 

So, in contrast to these so called pirates who are using military tactics, I’ve always tended to lean toward non mainstream tactics. Borrowing medical supplies for a covert op. Brawling on an alien world. Hacking the locked down brig systems to question a prisoner.

 

And taking these past un-Starfleet and downright piratical like mistakes of a junior officer who meant well but fragged up into overall consideration … why am I currently confining myself to the same by the book defensive attack patterns again and again when my opponents are obviously taking their cues from the same type of textbook military attack patterns?

 

Instead of doing what I normally do and improvise as I’ve done in the past?

 

A third hit jarred the big warship and I found myself literally flung over towards Ensign Salir Julio, the purple haired humanoid officer currently manning the Helm station. He had thrown an arm out to steady me, and I gently disengaged myself from the junior officer with a thank you. Julio made a slight grunting sound that I took as his version of an acknowledgment, which was understandable since he had more worries, such as keeping the ship moving and probably couldn’t be bothered with a one hundred and thirty pound cat flying into him.

 

My mind was working as I started on yet another sweep of the bridge, and I went over at least a dozen tactics that I would be able to employ against the hostile ships, finally deciding on a select few that might work against these raiders. It was true I only spent two short years serving on a civilian freebooter ship, but some of the non-Starfleet tactics I picked up during my tenure served there had proven to be invaluable – such as right now. In some cases, the adventures of a misspent youth could benefit the older individual somewhere down the line, as I seem to keep finding out.

 

The Breen combat ship swooped in, the movement tracked and visible on the tactical screen overlay, and the internal sensors indicated that a torpedo lock was imminent. Seconds later, the Agincourt was jarred as the strike impacted with the upper hull and sent spatial turbulence rippling across the decks.

 

“Okay, these so called pirates are pretty precise with their military attack patterns, so let’s change it up a bit and go for some down and dirty attack patterns so we can smack ‘em right back with some strife.”

 

“Mister Julio, bring the Agincourt around in standard frontal attack pattern, head straight for the Ferengi marauder ship. Drop down, go under them, and invert the ship. Bring it around to fire on the Breen ship instead. Keep alternating between the ships with the same attack pattern.”

 

Julio acknowledged my order with an “Aye sir, invert and the fire, alternating patterns”, and moved his hands his control station and started to program the flat inset helm console for the ordered attack pattern.

 

I then turned my attention to the bridge officer manning tactical, pointing a gentle paw in his general direction as I spoke, “Lieutenant, once we clear the underside of the Ferengi ship, fire off the aft cannon, full spread of torps. Then, have the secondary programs fire the front weapons at the Breen ship. Change up the firing patterns based on wherever Mister Julio needs to twist and turn for the evasive. We need them for questioning, and if you can take them out without extreme damage, fine, if not, that’s their choice if they do not disengage. I guarantee at least one of them will make a mistake and allow us to capture them.”

 

My statements, particularly the one about the enemy not disengaging and the retaliatory course of action that we would be forced to undertake in this case, echoed bluntly across the bridge, and I wondered fleetingly if I would have given the same type of orders say five years ago? Prior to getting on the command fast track? Some of my command decisions came easy, while others just came across as so callous. My tail swished, like it was physically dismissing the unsure feelings, and the random thought swished away along with it. Command was not an easy path, this was true.

 

And finally, I looked at the officer at sciences waiting intently for her orders. “Lieutenant, keep tying your sciences sensors and programs into the tactical systems so the firing solutions get that boost to the grid tracking patterns. And have any of your tertiary programs scanning the other ships anything we can use. Computer files, engine output, whatever.”

 

I also planted my butt down on the command chair. High gee maneuvers, Commander Kansas JoNs trolling unsecured across the bridge, incoming fire, boom, ship goes sideways, close encounter with the far bulkhead, smashed feline. Let’s do the tactical math here. Been there, done that, not going there again.

 

“Mister Julio, engage on my Mark. Three, two one … go! Tactical, go, Science, go! And we know Shadow is out there in the black doing his energy draining thing on that Ferengi ship. Everyone hold on and let’s unleash some well deserved boo yah on those Raiders … ”