[IRW Aylhr] Penumbra - SD242106.03 - [Backlog] Past Imperfect Pt 7 - Shiarrael t'Rehu

A Mission Post by Riov Rhaego tr'Neyl
Mission: Penumbra
Location: Various
Timeline: 15 Years Ago

[IRW Hhveir Ri'hwathech, Bridge]

The tactical display glowed brightly as the emerald wings of their fleet slowly fanned out into an arch formation as they neared their eventual destination, the planet Dherex. The display showed Dherex as a giant turquoise sphere about an arm's length from their formation, its periphery dotted with the red chevrons representing the Klingon fleet. It made Shiarrael think of a swarm of nasty insects buzzing about their nest, except Dherex was not their nest, they had simply infested it. This is not all of you though. There are others, invisible, hiding, just waiting for us to move in. The Klingons loved their honor and running into battle, but they also loved to shred and isolate their enemies. Singular battles were where they thrived. She would not give them that advantage or pleasure. She would make them wait. "How patient will you be?" She muttered under her breath.

"Rekkhai?" Shiarkek looked up from the tactical display's control panel, dancing fingers slowing as he looked at her, head tilted, like a quizzical fvai staring at its owner confused. She wondered what was going through his mind now. Back at Dherex, facing the enemy that had so thoroughly throttled his original attempt to push them from the system. She would not fail, at least not as spectacularly.

"Just talking to myself." She raised her arm and swiped a hand through the holographic display causing the image to fizzle and ripple in protest. "The Klingons seem content to let us sit here but I wonder how long their patience will last?" Or how long until they realize we will not be baited like last time?

"I would not think they would be long for patience?" Shiarkek said but seemed unsure as he eyed the same area of the tactical display as her "but who am I to judge what a Klingon will or will not do? My experience in this has not done well…"

No, it did not. Shiarrael almost nodded her head at his self-deprecation but simply shifted her posture slightly having caught the gesture mid motion. Now comes the waiting. She sat down at one of the open chairs in the strategic section at the back of the ship's bridge. Her eyes scanned the thin rectangular console on the chair's arm intermittently. The data never changed; the motion was just a distraction from the wait. It was always a torturous affair. Time always seemed to slow to such a crawl that one's own breathing became an annoying movement. Up, down, up, down, breath in, breathe out- she could almost scream. In battle time would fly- but the wait. It was a mere crawl with seconds feeling like hours. She was glancing at the console when she heard it, the rasp of startled sucking breath. Looking up she saw one of the younger aids staring at the tactical display, Shiarkek quickly moving next to her. A sudden wedge of around twenty chevrons had abruptly appeared on the map were quickly gliding towards the line of emerald wings that represented her own ships. She stood.

"A small Klingon force just decloaked. Twenty-four Bird-of-prey class ships and four Vorcha class cruisers." Shiarkek announced as his hands slid over a holographic display that had unfolded in front of him "they are moving towards our left flank, and it seems their focus is the fifth wing!"

Oh? Shiarrael frowned at that bit of news, her eyes scanning the tactical display as she moved towards it. That impudent child. The rest she knew would not be baited- but him? She hoped he would heed what she had told him in the meeting earlier "order them to loosen their formation and engage with the Klingons as needed- but remind them not to give chase! They are bored and trying to bait us." The green wings spread apart slightly just as the wedge of chevrons piled into them on the tactical display. It was an emotionless theater of red and green light that concealed the carnage that was occurring between her forces and the Klingons. A cascade of chevrons suddenly converged on one of the green wings causing it to fizzle off the screen. Across the bridge she heard the tactical officer shout "IRW Ihaie destroyed…it seems two of the Klingon ships crashed into them!" Shiarrael grimaced and walked down towards the main bridge.

"What is he doing?!"

Shiarkek's alarm caused half of the bridge crew to turn around towards the tactical display. Shiarrael's gaze followed theirs just in time to see a swath of her emerald wings break from the whole and move after the raiding Klingons. She gritted her teeth and felt a vein in her forehead protrude. Fool. I will have his head! She found herself marching down to the command throne and standing next to Raha "hail Khre'Riov tr'Jeiai and tell him to turn his forces back immediately!" Or I will send a battalion of Gai'Shian to drag him off his ship.

"I am trying to hail them but there is a lot of chatter." The Communication's officer sighed "apparently there is an argument between the Khre'Riov and one of the ship commanders in the wing who refuses to follow him."

"Yes, it seems a third of the fifth wing have held back." Shiarkek said. He still stood near the tactical display, the swirling grid a mere inch away from his forehead "it looks like the trap is sprung." The main viewer switched to a two-dimensional representation of the battle. Red chevrons were popping into existence around tr'Jeiai's perusing forces. Indeed, the trap was sprung. She watched with ill feeling as several of the emerald wings blipped out of existence.

"Idiot!" She yelled. "Have the third and fourth wing move to support!" Shiarrael was mortified at the absolute waste of craft and manpower. More red chevrons appeared on the screen. She felt the Hhveir Ri'hwathech lurch beneath her feet and grabbed the command throne for added support.

"Another group of Klingons ships decloaking and engaging us!"

"Bring us about, have the wing split our formation and attack the incoming Klingons." Raha shouted from the command throne as she reached out to steady Shiarrael "would you like to take the throne?"

"No." Shiarrael said. "Keep the wing engaged and bring us into the fray." She started back towards the tactical display. "Shiarkek, have all wings regroup on us. We will move our entire line." More red chevrons were appearing on the display. The Klingons tasted blood and were going into a frenzy like a thrai sensing a wounded animal. She could use that against them though. They were too excited and conveniently revealing themselves. "Shiarkek, prepare a boarding party. I want Khre'Riov tr'Jeiai in front of me as soon as we deal with the Klingons." He nodded and fiddled with the console.

A deep gasp brought Shiarrael's attention back to the viewer just in time to see a bird-of-prey slam into the neck of the IRW t'Anaka. It exploded into a muffled ball of plasma that ripped through the ship's neck like a can opener creating a cascading river of metallic debris that spilled out away from the ship. With the neck section severed Shiarrael watched as the lights in the ship's beak flickered wildly. "Raha! Bring us about and prepare transpor-" she could not finish her sentence before the silhouette of a bird-of-prey rippled out of the void and into a bright white-hot ball of plasma at the center of the t'Anaka's beak section. A massive sphere of debris spilled out into space as the vacuum squelched the fires. Shiarrael knew that among the debris there would be bodies- hundred of bodies. No survivors. The IRW t'Anaka was the flagship of the third wing and Khre'Riov Ejiul tr'Xibanas's flagship. What a waste. She clenched her fist and slammed it against an adjacent console causing the glass to crack.

"The Klingons are pulling away." Shiarkek announced. "It seems they are regrouping."

"Get me tr'Jeiai!" was the only thing she could say.

[To be continued…]

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