"The Gate" Part Two - Boarding Actions

Posted on Thu Aug 28th, 2025 @ 1:27pm by Lieutenant Colonel W.B Llewelyn & Corporal Ra-Gari & Captain Niun Standing Bear & Lieutenant Commander Drevas & Major Jesse Moriarty & Sergeant Jace Morven & Sergeant Major Bellona Juventus

3,056 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: Pilot - "The Gate"
Location: U.S.S. Guinevere
Timeline: MD 001

Deck 8

On Deck 8's Armory section, gearing up quickly, Colonel W.B. Llewelyn and his Troopers were quickly donning armor, grabbing phaser rifles and gear packs. Llewelyn was waiting for Sergeant Morven and his team to come up from the lower decks through access tubes that ran thoughout the ship.

The deck access panel hissed open.

Sergeant Jace Morven emerged first, boots silent on the metal as he pulled himself up from the maintenance crawlway. He rose in a single motion, fluid and economical. One by one, the rest of his team followed, staying quiet, eyes alert. Morven had worked hard with them since he had first stepped foot on the Guinevere. They were getting better but this was the first real taste of anything except holodeck simulations. Corporal Ra-Gari had been the sort of Corporal every Sergeant wanted. It had helped.

Morven scanned the corridor before stepping out, head tilting slightly as his gaze mapped the exits, the overhead sensors, the placement of the other troopers already gearing up. His jaw was set. Expression unreadable. But there was tension across his shoulders, the kind that came from readiness, not nerves. He moved to Colonel Llewelyn with that same deliberate quiet: not deferential, not aggressive. Just exact. He stopped two paces off, eyes flicking up to meet the officer’s...just long enough to register, then shift away again.

“Morven reporting. Alpha squad ready.”

The words landed flat and low, clean of inflection. Not cold, but controlled. His hands didn’t move. His stance didn’t shift. It was the posture of someone who had stood in too many briefing rooms with blood still drying on his armour.

He glanced toward the gear packs, his squad going to gear up. He'd wait until the Colonel let him, he could get into it quickly enough. His eyes went towards Private Kade putting on her armour, her medic's bag by her feet. She met his eye, only briefly. Gave a nod. He didn’t return it, but he didn’t look away too quickly, either. A moment’s weight. A tacit understood.

Across the room, another hatch slid open. The dark hair of the executive officer came into view, the tall man having to stoop to look around before moving out. Jesse Moriarty tugged his jacket straight, his focus showing in his narrowed eyes and slightly furrowed brow. He nodded firmly to the 'Colonel and then the Sergeant, making his way over, ready to get kitted out. Despite his demeanour, he had an air of calm about him, born from years of experience in the field. But he knew all too well how quickly the tables could turn.

Jace turned back to Llewelyn. “Standing by for briefing.”

And that was it. No questions. No comments. Just presence; dense and quiet, like a loaded weapon that hadn’t yet been aimed.

Llewelyn nods, tossing the Sergeant his pack. "Gear up, Alpha!"

He says as he moves to the big tactical table at the center of the room.

"Our SITREP is currently that we've been boarded by unknown numbers of Romulan ground troops. The Commodore believe that their objectives is to disable the sickbays, computer cores and the life support. XO is handling Life Support, so we got to clear the decks below 11. Hoo-Ah?"

"If our enemy cuts off these limbs, the entire ship will bleed, and soon she will be lifeless. So we will bleed, so that no one else must." Bellona declared as she grabbed her equipment from a locker nearby. "Answer the Colonel, then take your squad out when ready. Stay alert. Move!"

Morven caught the pack one-handed, the weight of it familiar. He didn’t flinch, didn’t break stride...just bent at the knees and began strapping in. Chest plate first. Gloves next. Each movement precise, economical. Almost meditative. This part didn’t require thought. Just muscle, memory, and metal.

Romulans. That meant disruptors. No stun settings. No second chances.

He pulled the helmet free and clipped it to his belt for now. As he rose, he spoke, quietly, flat, the words aimed with intent. “Copy. We’ll contain and clear. Fast.”

A beat. He glanced across his squad -just enough to ensure they were listening. “Romulan teams run hot. No standoff. We hold tight angles. Control the funnel.” Another glance. They were almost fully kitted. No one showed it if they were rattled. Not even Voss, who Morven had identified early on was the one who had a tendency to freeze.

He turned back to the Colonel. A simple nod. “Ready to move on your order.” And that was it. No posturing. No noise. They were ready.

Llewelyn nods in agreement, stepping over to a rack of Phaser rifles that lined the walls. He pulls one off the rack, checking it before pulling back the charging handle, the rifle whining as it powered up.

"Set for heavy stun, I want to know why they came. On the Bounce teams!"

Sergeant Morven acknowledged the Colonel with a firm nod, “Sir.” His fingers moved quickly, changing the setting on his own phaser rifle to heavy stun. Without needing to speak, he watched as the rest of the squad followed suit, each one checking the settings on their weapons with swift precision. It was second nature now. Practice made perfect, especially when you had to rely on muscle memory. His eyes flicked over the team, assessing. Every member moved with purpose. He didn’t need to say it; they knew the drill. The squad had trained for this. But even in the preparation, the silent calculation lingered...watch the doors. Watch the corners. Watch the shadows.

The Colonel took point, slowly, carefully. He gestured down the corridor as he raised his rifle, taking slow deliberate steps. Not wanting to spook any Romulans that might be on the deck.

Moriarty followed suit, his hand tugging the fastening of his armour to test it before he grabbed the rifle and fell into step behind the Colonel. Romulans. What the hell were they thinking? They were ruthless, dangerous...but they were also calculated and cautious to a fault. Whatever their motive, it wouldn't have been impulsive. No, they knew exactly what they were doing.


Elsewhere, in the tactical officers' bullpen, Drevas was busy briefing a crack team of five he'd pulled from his department. The Kelpien had put on the tactical gear standard to face-to-face engagements; his face the picture of cool calm as he briefed the others: "...and thus our primary mission shall be to bring the Guinevere's tactical systems back online. The Federation Ground Forces unit shall handle the majority of combat engagements; ours shall be to restore tactical systems from consoles and engineering if need be, as well as fight if impeded in our work. In such situations, we will fire to disable as far as possible. Lethal force shall be a last resort." He nodded at the gathered five. "Dispense with the pleasantries. Make preparations. We leave in two minutes."

Drevas took a moment to reflect as the others scattered. Their first combat engagement in months, and it had to be Romulans. Why Romulans. Maybe the universe had decided that they'd had it far too easy for far too long. Then he moved off to draw his phaser rifle, perform its functional checks and head out the door. He encountered Bellona in the hallway just outside, and off they went after a brief exchange.


-----
Deck - 10

The Turbolift opens, Llewelyn steps out of the turbo lift first. His rifle to his shoulder, aiming down range as he moved slowly, carefully. He raised his left hand motioning for the others to form up behind him as he moved.

The group moved down the corridor and from around a corner, a squad of Romulans appeared, the Colonel stops as the Romulans fired at the Troopers. Llewlyn fires back as he called out.

"Cover!"

The word snapped at Moriarty's instincts as sure as if someone had yanked him back with a hand. He shifted to press to the bulkhead, but didn't pull back. His grip tightened on his rifle, each finger shifting in the gloves to adjust to the pull of them before he leant just far enough to fire down the corridor; laying down suppressing fire to give the others a chance to secure cover. "There's at least six..."

Sergeant Morven fired as well, taking position to cover the Colonel as the rest of the squad moved. Smoothly? Not quite. But they were fast. Fast was good enough. Covering phaser fire crackled in jagged rhythm while boots thudded against the deck, like bursts of plasma tearing silence in half.

The Romulans were in the open for now, either too bold or too green. They hadn’t fallen back yet, which meant they were still deciding if they had the upper hand. Jace didn’t wait for them to make that decision.

The squad found the doorframes, the alcoves...anything to press into. Not elegant, but effective. They’d return fire from wherever their rifles could breathe. Morven’s squad knew the rule: shoot, move, cover, survive. Repeat.

Morven didn’t move like the others. Didn’t rush. He dropped to one knee, bracing the phaser rifle. Let the rest of them fire fast and loud. He waited. Eyes narrowing, he adjusted the angle a hair’s breadth. Sighted. One exhale. Finger released the shot.

A Romulan dropped.

He didn’t blink. Shifted slightly. Reset. Watched the Colonel, even in peripheral: solid shooter, minimal waste. Calculated under pressure. Someone who earned ground. Good. That made this easier.

Still, holding position was harder than it should have been. His instinct was to move. Breach. End it. But he held. Tight leash on old habits. Tactical discipline won battles. Not impulse. He kept his rifle steady. Watching for movement. Waiting for the next shot.

Drevas, meanwhile, had been occupied trying to coax their tactical systems into getting online again. The fighting, he knew, would have to be left to the Ground Forces to handle for now - as things stood, they would be able to fight with far more gusto than he and his team could currently provide, given their primary mission.

The thing about resetting and rebooting ship weaponry, though, is how tedious a process it can be, worse still if you need to do it from a damaged computer console that's flickering and occasionally doesn't register your inputs. Drevas grunted his irritation as his fingers flew over the LCARS display, almost begging the Guinvere's weaponry to come alive again.

Yep, this was his life now. In and out of combat. He'd signed up for this, of course, but why did it need to be so troublesome?

"Sometime today, would be good, My Kelpien friend!" Llewelyn called over to Drevas as he fired another few shots from his phaser rifle. Calmed, measured shots, taking down one Romulan before moving on to another.

"Morven! Move your team up, break though to Tac-Ops 3!" Llewelyn called over to Morven, gesturing to move his team up as Llewelyn provided cover fire.

"Sir," Morven's voice was audible over the fire. He raised his hand: flat, sharp, fingers slicing downward. Advance. The squad moved, Colonel Llewelyn's covering fire giving them the opening they needed to reclaim this bit of the corridor. They moved like parts of a whole: not with chaos, not with noise. They moved the way he’d drilled them: quick, low, controlled, shifting angles with their phasers tight to their shoulders, eyes sweeping corners as they advanced. He trusted Ra-Gari and Trelan to hold the rear, to keep the green ones fluid. He didn’t have to check. Not now.

The Romulans that had first clocked them around the corner were down. Heavy stun. Morven rose, covering them as they passed, then fell in behind Voss...steadying the rhythm with a clean, precise shot that clipped a Romulan stepping too far out of cover. One step closer.

“Two-by-two. Tight pivot on that junction,” he murmured into comms. Just enough. He didn’t need to shout. They were listening.

A nod to Ra-Gari, already swinging left to check the near alcove. Textbook.

Trelan veered right, keeping her rifle level, already clocking for wounded. Kade had her medpack ready, but the prognosis of this was grim. Romulans had been playing for keeps.

"BELLONA, GET YOUR ASS IN GEAR!" The Lieutenant Colonel called back to his Sergeant Major, still providing cover fire.

Bellona would've loved to say something in response. Something witty, or hard-nosed, or, or... something. When one is fighting Romulans determined to take over one's ship, though, filler conversation becomes a premium. Just as she'd opened her mouth to speak, a Romulan snuck up behind her with what seemed to be a small knife in hand. Bringing a knife to a rifle fight? Who would've thought? Having caught the movement in the cornwr of her eye, Bellona whirled and struck him in the gut with the butt of her rifle, causing him to howl and crumple as she carried on fighting in silence. No satisfaction, no look-backs. All that could be done when the entire mission was secure.

-----

Deck 19 - Heading Toward Section 12

The turbolift doors slid open on a darkened deck, emergency lights flickering off and on, offering momentary glimpses. Niun moved silently, staying to the shadows, as he crept forward, moving toward the sound of battle, patterns of disruptor and phaser fire, interspersed with voices crying out, some in anger, others in pain. Ahead of him, he could see the lean form of a centurion, firing his disruptor into a room on one side of the corridor followed by a strangulated scream as the disruptor fired again.

The centurion moved on. Oblivious.

Trained in millennia old traditions of silent combat, Niun timed his advance, stopping in a low crouch when the centurion checked a room or a corridor to prevent being caught in the man's peripheral vision. His strides were longer though, intentionally so, and he gained with every step the enemy took, his breathing low and controlled, until he closed the gap completely. He struck with a sharp kick to the middle of the Romulan's back, catching the man at the start of a surprised spin, which sent the disruptor skidding down the corridor, and, followed up with a hard elbow strike to the throat as the centurion completed his turn. The man fell back, surprise written across his features, moving into his own fighting stance.

Niun, who understood combat in a way that most did not, flowed through his moves, never exactly where his opponent expected him to be. The Romulan would strike, expecting him to crumble, and instead, Niun would twist, avoiding most of the damage, as he stepped in to deliver a hard blow of his own. They fought silently, testing defenses, looking for an opening. Niun was gaining and when the Centurion, intentionally backing up, scrambled for his disruptor, Niun leapt for him, slicing his throat with his combat knife and stepping back as the Romulan fell, dying, to the deck, his disruptor set to kill lying near his hand on the deck.

Niun, carrying the disruptor in one hand, moved into the room to find two crewmen dead of the floor. He left the disruptor on the console and continued on, moving toward the sound of battle.

------

It took over twenty minutes for the Ground Forces and the Tactical Teams to push through the entirety of Deck 8. The Tactical links to the bridge, somewhat restored. The Last were being worked on as Llewelyn moved up behind Drevas.

"How much longer? We don't know if there are any other Romulans on the deck." He asked the Kelpien as he looked over to Morven too, who was covering the door.

"One minute." Drevas muttered in response. The truth was, one minute was a best-case-scenario estimate. He could see that things were progressing well on the screen in front of him, but life was hardly ever that easy. More enemies could beam on. The system could encounter glitches or worse. All of those options were bad. "Shields are operational, but weapon systems still require a minute to re-initialise."

"Sergeant Major, Cover the Commander!" Llewelyn turned to his Sergeant Major.

"Covering." Bellona nodded solemnly to Drevas as she maneuvred in front of him, shielding him with her own body.

Moriarty tightened his grip on his rifle, back pressed to the bulkhead, giving him a good view of the archway. He could have sworn he'd heard the distant, rhythmic pulse of disruptor fire.

He spared a glance at Drevas. Moriarty was all too aware of how exposed they still were; a minute might as well be an hour in a firefight. "You might want to make that the fastest minute on record, 'Commander," he called over with the clipped urgency of someone who knew the cost of a few extra seconds.

The XO edged forward, scanning the shadows beyond their section, finger resting along the edge of the rifle’s trigger-guard. Romulans didn’t waste opportunities...if they were still here, they were moving into position. And if they had any sense, they’d try for one last push before the ship’s weapons came back online.

Right about then, the console Drevas was working on beeped its confirmation; the LCARS display flickered, then rebooted to show their systems at 90% operational status. Not optimal, but it would have to do. The Kelpien smacked his commbadge at once: "Drevas to bridge. Ship weaponry is online and available, but only at 90%. I will have to access our phaser arrays in person to give you more."

"Well Done, report back when you got the phasers back to wireless control." Elias replied to the Kelpian.

Llewelyn nods as he moved to the door. "Stack up, let's move to phaser control!"

-----

Lt. Colonel W.B Llewelyn
Detachment Commanding Officer
U.S.S. Guinevere

Major Jesse Moriarty
Detachment XO
U.S.S. Guinevere

Sgt. Maj. Bellona Juventus
Detachment Command Sergeant Major
U.S.S. Guinevere

Captain Niun Standing Bear
First Officer
USS Guinivere

Lt. Cmdr. Drevas
Chief Tactical Officer
U.S.S. Guinevere

Sergeant Jace Morven
Detachment Platoon Sergeant
U.S.S. Guinevere

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