Distress – Resistance is futile
by HoD Ro' Matlh & 2nd Lieutenant Zorc Dat'oxo & Sogh Germite Ephilom & Soghla' HIchop Matlh & Soghla' Jared

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Title   Resistance is futile
Mission   Distress
Author(s)   HoD Ro' Matlh & 2nd Lieutenant Zorc Dat'oxo & Sogh Germite Ephilom & Soghla' HIchop Matlh & Soghla' Jared
Posted   Mon Jan 09, 2017 @ 11:57pm
Location   Planet Surface
The red glow diminished, leaving HIchop and his suit standing in the middle of a wide courtyard about 100 meters from the centre of the fighting. His combat suit instantly scanned the surrounding for hostile targets while he span up his rotary cannon and brought his other systems to hot standby.

Unfortunately the courtyard was empty.

A second glow deposited the rest of the combat team in a circle around him, weapons drawn and facing out.

Zorc was backed by his two colleagues from the last ship. They worked best together and knew each other's skills.

May'bel had Cha'a' at one side and Germite at the other. He smiled as he heard the sound of fighting in the near distance. His name meant the joy of battle, and it was something he reveled in. He was carrying his modified and paired disruptor pistols, while Cha'a' carried only the single rifle.

Germite looked around after he materialized, it seemed normal to be back in a combat zone, at least as normal as being in a combat zone was. At least he had a mission and knew what was expected of him. He knew that there was no such thing as a non-combatant when battling the Borg, so he had a disruptor strapped to his leg.

The three fanned out in a protective triangle as they instantly had the intersection covered the angles. The rifles were disruptor rifles swept the area. The best way to do things that this operational formation is to cover the corridors while the rest of the team would be doing their objectives.

"Clear..." The First Klingon called. "Clear..." The second Marine called.

"All clear." Dat'oxo finalized the formation. "Ready to proceed." He had his weapons pointed in the direction of their objective, the place that they can control the sphere.

"Move!" HIchop barked and his suit whirred into life. It was not a fast machine, but it had a definite presence. Apart from the roll cage it provided little armour protection however. The team moved around him like infantry supporting a tank or other weapon platform, checking corners, watching sight lines.

As they moved up one street a party of Klingons could be seen at the far end, approaching them. One at least was injured and limping, helped by a second while a third was watching behind them.

"Fall back," they called as they approached. "They have taken the street. They control all fifteen blocks between here and the crash site, now."

Germite stepped forward to the injured Klingon and scanned him with a tricorder. He looked at him, "You call that an injury, just a sprain and some minor lacerations."

The Klingon nodded, and the one carrying him put in, "We cannot afford to be slow. If they touch you... you become one of them. All the drones now were once colonists."

"Then it is time to return their honour," Hichop growled. His weapons began to wind up as a pair of Partially converted Klingon/Drones came around the corner.

Hichop wanted to end these Klingon/Drones misery but the bigger picture was that crashed ship. "The Borg might leave us alone until we get closer to the crashed ship. If they do the rest of you are to plant your explosives and I will provide cover fire. When you have planted your explosives join me in holding back the advancing hordes. We will wait until we can draw no more in before we detonate."

The group moved forward in a close formation watching the two drones. Seeing the large and heavily armed force gave them reason to pause, which is unusual for Borg. As the Away team approached the pair parted and let the team pass between them, but formed back up again and began to follow along behind.

As they moved through the streets they saw a few pockets of Klingons setting up defensive barriers. The Borg did not seem eager to rush these defences. Elsewhere however there were bodies of Borg and Klingon lying in the street.

As they marched one of the Marines muttered, "Have you noticed all of the Drones are only partially assimilated, and they are all Klingon?"

Germite nodded, "Yes, and they are not attacking." He paused for a moment, "Which is very unlike either Klingon or Borg."

"They are ordered for mission specifics." Dat'oxo commented

The closer they got to the crash site the more Borg could be seen down side streets, keeping pace with them.

"Anyone else smell ambush?" May'bel cautioned quietly.

"I think it is more of them wanting to see our intensions?" Dat'Oxo said before motioning his two subordinates to fan out a little more to give a better cover firing arcs.

As they approached the crash site things became more confused. May'bel began to point out half finished Borg constructs.

"It's as if they changed their mind half way through. This is not a coordinated effort. What is going on."

Germite was not a scientist or even a doctor. He hadn't grown up and gone to one of the fancy Federation schools, he was merely a battlefield medic, but, even with the lack of formal schooling, something didn't seem right. The enemy was not reacting the way they usually did. He had never heard of the borg making such a half-hearted effort to assimilate a planet. If Jared were here, then perhaps he could determine what was going on. He looked at May'bel, "Yeah, it seems kind of strange."

"This is not a collective effort." Dat'oxo observed as his hand was always on a weapon but only at the ready, glancing to his men he gave a nod as they knew to give more room for covering the group. "If I were to say anything; field repair medical." HE hated the Federation Common tongue but remained speaking it.

The team arrived at the ruined Borg escape pod. It was empty and abandoned but the green power showed it was still connected and communicating to the Cube. The away team began to pack it with explosives. Borg drones gathered just out of weapons reach as if considering how to respond.

Dat'oxo's Marines took up defensive positions, Dat'oxo watched the explosives being packed. "With this we announce intensions." He laughed. "Finally they might notice we mean business?" HE mused in common. "Finally we might have a fight?"

It was what he had been brought down for; his mission was to save the the party and kill as many enemy as he could; it was the Klingon way, he took up a position ready for the 'Observers' to finally make a decision of a more aggressive manner.

And the decision came. With a sudden lurch all of the Borg drones began to move towards the team. Hichop's suit whirred to life and a stream of deadly hail flew off towards the advancing drones. On the opposite side May'bel pulled his dual disruptor pistols. He was not trying for the Hollywood dramatics, knowing he could only aim one at a time, but using two reduced his cool down times, and maybe slow down the Borg's ability to adapt.

Dat'oxo had the steady hand upon his weapon, the center of mass was his target, keep them as far down range as possible. He took his first shot at what could have been a leader, were it not for the fact the collective controlled them all the same, to watch the Drone fall to the ground. His man Xao'Tock made easy work with two successive shots that landed him two drones; there would be no 'wounding or incapacitating, it would be a kill for each of their limited shots.

Dat'oxo found a second target in his sights and put the poor, as humans might call them, sod out of his misery. The line of Drones were advancing and two more came very close together and without thinking the third shot took down the left drone before the minute adjustment and another bolt sent at a forth target before he realized to hold fire...

Whether it was luck, or the proximity of the targets, but the forth shot caught and dropped the Drone as well.

"I'm out!" Xao'Tock called, holstering his disruptor and pulling a Mek'leth. The Borg were formidable close combat fighters, but at least they didn't have shielding against a sword.

Inside his suit warning lights began to flash as HIchop's suit guns began to overheat. He glanced at the kill counter that was showing on the HUD. 23 confirmed dead. He allowed himself a frown. He had expected more than 3-4 that conventional weapons managed, but that still seemed high.

May'bel fired in rapid succession. When he exhausted his three shots from each gun, he started to fire at the surrounding buildings, bring rubble down on the drones and making it hard for those behind to climb through.

"Explosives in place!" came the call.

"Hold off till my command!" Hichop bellowed. "We need as many of them in the blast radius as possible."

His rotary cannon went off line to cool down, the kill count at 35. How was that possible. Surely their shields should have adapted.

Dax'oxo charged forward after six confirmed kills; the weapon was lasting much longer than he had taken into account; he lined up one charging and fired. The round fell to no avail. Gripping the rifle with a blade on the end, he charged the drone and met it head-on in combat, shoving the blade into the chest as another tried to flank him. His left hand pressed the blade home as his right drew the side arm and put a cauterized hole between the eyes of the attacking drone.

"Six!" Dat'oxo challenged. Empty your weapons more than three!" He said in a glorified tone as another drone dropped to his side arm. "To Victory!" Dat'oxo said as he pulled his rifle clear and in a deft move shouldered it, did a half spin and dropped to a knee to line up more shots. He would make each kill count dropping two more then a tumble / roll to come to his feet and engage those that he 'felt' coming to flank him, two more dropped and then he smiled as one looked his way for the last person that Drone set eyes upon.

His men had three more shots per weapon; they pulled side arms first and, while double wielding, expended six more drones in rapid succession with ease before holstering the weapons and drawing and charging back into the fray with blades. Joining their Commanding Officer, who had twin long knives, akin to gladius of old earth, often called a short sword, that wield nicely and with serrated front thirds of the blade made a wound double the size of normal blades, the blood veins of the blades would run like a river from his combat.

The front man engaged; the right rear then advanced with the left clearing the rear attacks before 'leap frogging the leader. Dax'oxo had been lead until his men advanced per their training and practice in fighting as a unit in a deadly style dance that kept all sides covered and the three men were protected even as they attack. No phalanx style maneuvers; these men were on the offensive no matter what the situation, even onto the gates of what humans call 'Hell' they would fight to keep the evil enemy back.

Germite saw the carnage going on around him. Slaughter was the word that came to mind. These were not the Borg of infamy. These Borg acted for lack of a better word dumb. Germite fired off the odd shot as a drone would get past the killing field, but by and large stayed behind the marines as they seemed to be reveling in the carnage.

Drones, Romulans or any enemy would fall to the three Klingon Warrior's advance; losing is not an option, only death would stop them.

Hichop decided to mention the obvious. There was probably no benefit but given the situation it didn't hurt to try "Why are their shields not working? Germite, scan one of the dead Borg. Is there anything we can we take advantage of?"

Germite pulled a tricorder. According to his scans the Borg Drones were only partially converted, but many of them still housed a field generator unit even so. Perhaps...

There was a flash in the sky and all the Borg stopped in their tracks. With a series of jerks and spasms they collapsed on to the ground. Germite's tricorder registered the massive drop in life at the same time as HIchop's Target finder began to dance, unable to lock onto any remaining hostiles.

May'bel pulled a Mek'leth from a drone body with a curse, "That's it? They all just drop dead? We didn't even get to blow up the pod!"

Germite looked at his tricorder again, "Interesting." He looked over to May'bel. "Perhaps you would have preferred assimilation?"

Klingon cheers began to ring out around the city as the colonists realised that victory had come on them. There would be mourning of the dead, and disposing of corpses (carefully to avoid any further contamination). But there were still so many questions left unanswered.

One of the Marines turned to HIchop, "What now? Do we still blow the pod? Do we return to the ship? Help collect bodies?"