Webb: *and this is where his sketchy piloting skills will be truly tested* This might be a little more complicated than I hoped. Everybody strap in. *nods to the two extra consoles on either side of the pilot's seat* I'll take someone on that engineering console and someone on the tactical console if anyone feels like it.
Leslie: *already strapping at tactical and doing important things*
Webb: *glances over to Leslie* I need you on the comms console. Lt. Naara will take tactical.
Lev: Yes, sir. *takes the engineering console, since he might as well*
Mod: The reason for the first shuttle becomes quickly obvious: it's hailing them rather insistently. If the second has noticed their little chase, it makes no sign of it, and its sensor blip merges with that of the medical center, now at too long of range to discern a visual.
Webb: *glances back at Elspeth to make sure she's doing okay and get her opinion* Recommendations, my dearest favorite Doctor? You know more about these people than we do.
Naara: Sir. *Slides into tactical, giving her fingers a quick stretch*
Leslie: Captain, we're being hailed. *what even do Comms officers do anymore*
Elspeth: *it seems she's not going time to recover. With a sound of protest, she pushes herself up the wall, and straightens, stepping into the cockpit. Scanning the sensors, she nods.* The Cardassian military ship is there for inspection. It was why I was so insisting of us to be leaving quickly. *she frowns at the other shuttle signature* That is the 'Integrus'. One of our shuttles. I am not sure what it is doing.
Webb: Well if it's one of yours it probably won't do much harm to pick up. Hopefully. *raises his voice a little so everyone in the shuttle can hear* When we're on comms, no titles, no indications where we came from. We're merely friends and acquaintances of the good Doctor, here to transport her to safety. *waits for everyone to nod agreement* Open a comms channel.
Lev: *glances back into the shuttle* We didn't forget anyone, did we?
Naara: *Shakes head* We didn't. I checked.
Mod: The woman on the other side of the comms makes Elspeth's current level of disarray and exhaustion look mild in comparison. It certainly doesn't help that her expression is contorted into some amalgam of anger and desperation. "This is kidnapping! You can't take Doctor Rand! We need her at the center!"
Leslie: Yes, sir. *answers the hail* This is the shuttle *pause* Macbeth.
Webb: *stares at Leslie for a second before arranging his features into a mix of innocent, charming, and bewildered* I'm sorry, may I ask who is hailing?
Mod: Her eyes flash. "Doctor Anamarie Stasya. Bring back Rand, or I'm letting the Cardassians know that a shuttle is trying to escape the atmosphere."
Webb: *his friendly expression disappears and he gives her a steely look in return* You would put six innocent civilians in danger in order to try to force a /volunteer/ back into a situation that she has decided to leave?
Naara: *Checks to see how easily they could get a lock on this other shuttle... just in case...*
Elspeth: *Her eyes widen, and she exhales* Ana, of course. Why must all my friends be so filled with the stubbornness? *she shoves her head into range of the viewscreen* Ana. Love. I am leaving. I warned all that I would, once I could. I did not think it would be so early— *she glances around the ship, heart pounding* But it seems I have better friends than I know, still. Please understand.
Webb: *will let Elspeth handle the conversation for now, though he doesn't take his eyes off the other woman*
Mira: *feeling pretty out of the loop in the passenger area so she gets up and stands just behind Elspeth, just in case she falls down or something and needs help getting back to her seat*
Mod: The woman's expression goes flat. "You had one chance. You should have stayed here, with me. You're not going to get away so easily." The sensor blip slows, then turns back towards the medical center as the Cricket rises into the clouds*
Webb: *raises his eyebrows at Elspeth*
Leslie: Sir, I can try to jam her communications. It probably won't do much but it could give us a few extra seconds.
Lev: Did she just threaten to send the cardassians after us?
Mod: Also, the channel gets cut off, because I forgot to say that.
Naara: *Grits teeth* Permission to bring Weapons online, Sir?
Elspeth: *buries her face in her hands, exhausted* She certainly did. Ana is... single in mind. It has been a problem on many occasions. But she is an excellent surgeon. *the last bit sounds hollow and worn, like an oft-repeated excuse you might give yourself for another's inexcusable actions*
Webb: Elspeth, when we get to safety we're going to have to have a serious talk about your relationship choices. Hudson, help her get strapped in. Harrison, give the comm jam a try and yes, Naara, you can bring our weapons online. *starts pressing buttons* I'm activating our sensor disruption field, it will make it much more difficult for them to lock onto us. That means don't shoot until absolutely necessary.
Naara: *Does so* Yessir!
Leslie: *starts tapping panels and flicking switches, trying to remember how to do things she has purposefully forgotten*
Lev: *checks the state of the cricket's defences* Shields are good, as well as whatever Chief K'rinn slapped onto the hull. I'd recommend we get to warp as soon as we're clear of the planet.
Elspeth: *makes a face* It was /not/ a relationship. Ana merely... pursued me. Endlessly.
Webb: *mutters* Clear of the planet, clear of the blockade, easy enough. Speaking of which, someone scan for an opening in the blockade so we can get out of here. This thing doesn't take turns very well, or so I'm told so let's hope it's a straight shot.
Mira: *puts her hand on Elspeth's shoulder and tries to guide her back to the seats*
Mod: Whatever Leslie did to the other shuttle's sensors seems to have worked: they continue to rise without ay changes of the readings for nearly two more tense minutes. Then, the blip of the Cardassian ship below detaches from the medical center, and rockets up after them. There's no way it'll catch up to them before they break atmosphere, but they still have thirty thousand clicks of space between them and the edge of the blockade past that point.
Elspeth: *allows herself to be ushered back into a seat, and slumps down in one, pulling her knees to her chest and hiding her face against them*
Leslie: *swears softly* Captain, we have Cardassians coming.
Mira: *straps Elspeth in and then herself in the next seat, and then reaches for Elspeth's hand to try and offer some comfort*
Naara: *Taps some of the controls* Scanning the blockade now Sir. *Bites lip*
Webb: *resists the extremely strong urge for an extremely inappropriate joke* Of course we do. *accelerates towards the blockade, gambling that Naara will find a break in time*
Elspeth: *extendsa hand out to take Mira's, and silently clutches it*
Mira: *holds her hand tightly* You're doing the right thing.
Mod: The blockade has come to life: the ships that were silently flitting between unmanned sensor satelites have congregated in an arc along their most likely escape vector. As they break atmosphere, the Cardassian ship behind them gets closer, nearing weapon's range. It's an ugly craft, some sort of medium-sized gunship, two or three times as big as the cricket, and visibly armed to the teeth. It seems they're going to be between a rock and a hard place very shortlyy
Lev: *studies his console, quickly going through the menus* Captain, I think I can get a bit more energy into the impules engines, If I take it from the auxiliaries.
Webb: Let's hope K'rinn's sensor disruption field does everything she claimed it would. *nods at Lev* Hold that until we find the break. Naara, how's that scan coming? *glances back to make sure the girls are strapped in, and then prepares for either the best or worst piloting he'll ever do in his life*
Naara: *Frowns* I can't find one, they're covering all the obvious gaps... *Wonders* What if we kick into warp now?
Mod: Behind them, the Cardassian ship opens fire. They're not in weapons lock range, but that doesn't seem to bother them: manually aimed phaser fire surrounds the ship on all sides, some of the shots missing by scant meters.
Webb: Fantastic. Looks like that sensor disruptor is working perfectly, except it's not working at all. I'm open to ideas, people. *accelerates away from the pursuing ship*
Lev: We can't just go into warp this close to the planet, it's going to mess with navigation and we end up warping right into the sun! We have to get clear first.
Leslie: We can't go into warp from here, I've got too many ship signatures closing in.
Mod: A warning klaxxon echoes through the ship: the Cardassians behind them have established a weapons lock, and now, the phaser fire comes fast and furious. The sensor disruptor means that most of the fire goes wide, but half a dozen shots slam into the limited deflector shields, knocking them down to half strength.
Webb: *hangs onto the console as the ship shudders* I'd like to apologize in advance in case we all get killed. *hitting buttons* We're going to warp towards the local sun, use that to break the sensor net, and then use the sun's gravity to slingshot us into maximum power to warp out. If you have questions or concerns, I'm not interested.
Naara: *Winces* Shields down to 50%! *Hears Webb and starts pressing buttons on her console* I'm pulling all the weapons power into structural integrity and shields, that should make your plan easier Sir!
Webb: Perfect. It'll take me another minute or two to finish the calculations, so everyone send positive thoughts to the shields to last us that long.
Mod: The shields choose that moment to fail: Cardasian ships are approaching from the front as well now, using the vector of fire from their compatriot to spot the Cricket without relying on sensors. Smoke pours out from under the comms console. Leslie might want to move.
Webb: *swears* Someone fix the shields! *jerks the Cricket into evasive maneuvers*
Leslie: Fucking shit. *taps a few last panels then flings herself from her seat* Naara I'm coming to help you!
Mod: Not a moment too soon. The console explodes in a shower of sparks, setting the seat aflame and filling the cabin with acrid smoke.
Mod: Fortunately, it seems that the calculations are complete. Warp is ready.
Webb: Harrison, strap in /now!/
Mod: The shields come back on line, bolstered by the surge of power that Naara pushed into them: it seems the failure was only a temporary one.
Naara: *Swears in Suliban, hands racing across her controls* Got it!!
Leslie: Perfect. *staggers to the fire extinguisher and grabs it to start putting out the flames* *what's webb gonna do, court martial her?*
Webb: *he warned her and they're out of time* It's about to get a little bright.*punches the warp*
Mod: The ship jerks forward as if struck by some colossal force: the world around them blurs, and they slam into a quick warp jump. Leslie, unless she's hanging onto something, gets tossed bodily out of the cockpit and back into the cabin.
Mod: Behind them, the Cardassian blockade lays down a withering curtain of fire into the empty spot that had been occupied by the Cricket a moment ago, and was now occupied by their pursuer. The Cardassian gun ship vanishes under the storm of fire, and nothing but a cloud of vaporized ship parts emerges on the other side.
Leslie: *was using both hands on the extinguisher and hoping her balance would hold, but no such luck* *has the extinguisher jerked out of her hands and flies back into the rest of the shuttle, landing in a heap on the floor*
Webb: *hears Leslie fall but hey, he did warn her* *plus there are two other officers out there in case she's dying* We'll drop out of warp in thirty seconds.
Mira: *unstraps and attempts to drag Leslie into a seat, checking to see if she's injured*
Mod: They pass through the sensor net at warp, giving the Cardassians their exact vector. Two ships turn to follow them, their larger engines letting them gain speed faster and begin to overtake. Of course, they don't know that the Cricket is planning to drop out of warp in a moment.
Leslie: *ow*
Naara: *Checking scans* We've got company!
Webb: I hope they like their ships extra crispy. Prepare to drop out of warp.
Leslie: *landed on her side and was moving too fast to catch herself, so knocked her head on the floor and is laying limp where she is* *probably has a few cracked ribs too*
Mira: *Leslie is small enough so that moving her isn't too much of an issue, but Mira is careful just in case there's injuries she can't see* *hauls Leslie into a chair and manages to strap her in before throwing herself in the next seat and strapping herself in just in time*
Webb: Three... two... one. *they drop out of warp and the sun lights up the inside of the shuttle, very much too close for comfort*
Naara: *Focuses on her console and the shield readout, preparing to tap into life support if she needs to*
Mod: One Cardassian ship drops out of warp too soon, a few hundred thousand kilometers from the sun. The other overshoot, the gravitational well interfering with navigation. It spins out of warp and begins to tumble, its systems clearly damaged by the close. The first ship looks to be preparing for a second jump, but it's not going to be fast enough.
Webb: *swerves the shuttle into the rotation of the sun and they start to swing around it, gaining velocity* Naara, keep me updated on those shields. Second jump is calculating.
Webb: *calls into the back of the shuttle* How's everyone doing back there?
Naara: Shields holding for the moment sir.
Elspeth: *has unbuckled herself and is triaging Leslie* Friend Leslie is hurt, but Doctor Leslie is being on the case! *she can't help but find her own pseudonym a little amusing*
Mira: Wait until we've jumped to warp again! Strap in!
Elspeth: *nods, and gets back in her seat* Let us go!
Webb: *they stay just far enough away from the sun for the shields to hold, though they might be smoking a little, and Webb watches the numbers carefully as their velocity climbs* Warp in three... two... one. *punches it*
Mod: They hit warp without a hitch, though the shields groan as they skim a tad closer to the sun than is necessarily safe. The Cardassian ship moves to follow, but it's woefully behind. After a minute or two, it turns around, and drops off of their sensors. The Cricket is home free.
Webb: Are we being followed?
Naara: *Scouring the scan* ... No Sir! They've gone! *Gets out of her seat, picks up Leslie's dropped fire extinguisher, and picks up tackling the smoking comms console*
Elspeth: *peels herself out of her chair, and gets to work on Leslie*
Webb: *runs a hand through his hair* Damn. Everybody alive? *unstraps and gets up to look around at everyone*
Mira: *unstraps as well to hover next to Elspeth in case she needs an extra hand for some reason*
Leslie: *slowly coming out of unconsciousness*
Elspeth: The Leslies will make it! *fortunately, they didn't drop off /all/ the medical supplies. She gets to work on repairing the cracked ribs*
Webb: If you think I'm going to start calling you Leslie, you've been away for too long. *satisfied that everyone is alive, slumps back down in the pilot's seat*
Lev: *quickly unstrapps from his seat to joins Elspeth and kneels down next to Leslie* How bad is it? *he didn't see what happened what with being focused on the engineering console stuff*
Mira: *gets out of the way so the doctors can work*
Elspeth: *gives a quick readout of what Leslie's condition is: broken ribs, mild concussion, contusions on the left side of her body* *gets back to work*
Naara: *Finishes up with the Comms console, sits back down at tactical* *To Webb* I'll re-route comms through my console Sir. *Exhales* And thank you for getting us out alive.
Webb: I appreciate your work, Naara. That was in no way a one man job.
Lev: *checks out the scans and gets to work stabalising Leslie with what they have on hand*
Naara: Thank your, Sir. *Gets on with her work*
Webb: *the Cricket limps back to Harcha, and Webb drops everyone off on the planet before taking the shuttle back to the Legacy, steeling himself for an apology to K'rinn* *decides he's best off pretending he brought the ship back in near-perfect condition* *plausible deniability or something*