Pants Down

[Erich Jaenke 0]

The under belly of the Manticore took the brunt of the assault, this much I could sense from the crew. It's amazing how much time slows down under stressful conditions. I wish the context of this was better, much better.

 

The emotional wave flowed swiftly from the ventral engineering section. The first volley hit squarely behind the deflector dish then spread in a scattered randomness from fore to aft. So did the screams.

 

The chief could not count how many were in the lowest of levels. Many had moved further inward due to protocol. The terror erupted from their minds with the fury of a Klingon bat'leth piercing an opponent's skull. The assault on Erich's soul was reminiscent of the last moments of those loops. Terror then silence. Existence to the void. Not again.

 

Not even a second later the engineering and defense systems went into action. No humanoid in Starfleet or anywhere could react as quickly. The pool table board flashed in hues of red and yellow, indications of damage. Manticore had been punched in the gut to the point of blood. Flecks of hull spewed into the void of space and bruises looked as deep as bone. Unlike doctors who worked from the outside in the engineers worked from the inside out on their patients. Now was a time for triage.