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Author Topic: The North Borg Camp of the King  (Read 1729 times)

sorra

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Re: The North Borg Camp of the King
« Reply #75 on: January 09, 2014, 11:05:12 AM »

Mesa kept her horse at a steady trot, not caring if it hurt her arm.  She wanted to get to Flynn before it was too late.  Her eyes widened though and she nearly collapsed in the saddle when she saw what was happening with the ships.  They were too late.  She punched the front of her saddle, fighting back frustrated tears.
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Re: The North Borg Camp of the King
« Reply #76 on: January 09, 2014, 05:39:26 PM »

The ships rose into the sky, deadly bird of prey ready to lash out with weapons, fire, death and steel. But yet for all their power, they were no match for the ships in orbit, which could rain down a hail of drones and destroy them with pin point precision, though they would have to risk the life of their captured friend to do so. But the Borg wouldn't be giving them that chance if they felt like taking it.

Energies rippled as generators channeled power into select processes, until two hyperspace windows flared into existence inside the atmosphere. The earth shook and trees were blown about as air rushed through the hole, venting into hyperspace. More deadly would be what was not seen, exotic radiation generated by the unusual nature of subspace pouring out from the forced gap to poison the planetary biosphere, though what long term effects it would have were for anyone to guess. A pulse of the engines sent both ships through those holes, carrying them far away from the Alpha site, from the ships in orbit, and any hope of an easy rescue, to soon unleash their ferocity upon the galaxy.

The ships gone, the remaining Borg went on the attack. They had no goal, no objective save that of killing as many humans as possible. And so they would take the more obvious route, to invite conflict, to crash together like a storm ,to overwhelm their enemy and drive them from the planet. Smart? No. But they were doing it regardless.
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"Well, let me see. We've got slow death, quick death, painful death, cold, lonely death...."

Mim

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Re: The North Borg Camp of the King
« Reply #77 on: January 13, 2014, 01:03:14 AM »

Quote
"We follow them Lieutenant, that's what we'll do. You know we don't leave shipmates behind." He told the youngster. Then the very last thing he expected happened, they had arrived just that much too late.

Steven swore in frustration as he saw the ships lift and disappear. "All from Saggitta, dismount and gather around me. Saggitta, beam us up to the bridge now and try to get a trace on where those ships went. Fire control, put some shots into that Borg army to discourage them. Prepare to move out in pursuit." The asgard beam formed around and suddenly Steven was back on Saggitta's bridge.





All Josille heard was Steven's command to his ship and that was not what she wanted to hear. She screamed out to him. "No stop! Don't fire my people are in the pass!" But it was too late. All but her, Jordan and the few of their own people were left behind as the Saggitta crew were beamed away. She swung her horse around violently grabbing Jordan by the shoulder and almost pulling her off her horse.


"Do something Jordan, call them with your speaking machine! Please..." She begged.

But there was little Jordan could do, her radio was only fixed on the base transmissions. She thought for a moment and hoped she was not too late. Right now she just wanted to ride into that camp and rain down death and destruction upon the Borg. Now she had to stop Steven from doing that on their allies. "Base this is O'Neil. Call up the Saggitta asap. Tell them NOT to fire...Josile has her people in that valley."
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Far Dareis Mai
Life is a dream — that knows no shade.
Life is a dream — of pain and woe.
A dream from which — we pray to wake.
A dream from which — we wake and go

Mim

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Re: The North Borg Camp of the King
« Reply #78 on: January 13, 2014, 09:15:03 PM »





The firing had stopped as quickly as it had begun and just in time it would seem. Josile was standing in her stirrups, she had a pair of field glasses pressed to her eyes, far beyond on the eastern side of the valley she saw just how close it was. Huge gouged marks in the land pointed at where mark had been hit, not less than a hundred metres in front of her cavalry. But it had given pause to the emerging Borg as well and it was just thing the Cavaleiros needed. Over two thousand horse archers, arrayed in two lines faced the Borg. A hand went up from their leader, which would have been Eomir, Josile's second. His arm dropped suddenly and the first row fired, a thousand trinium tipped black shafts arced across the early morning sky and fell among the enemy. As they reloaded, the second row repeated the process and so it went three times until not a single Borg stood.

There was a sadness to the end. There was an old saying among the Cavaleiros, 'without an enemy, there is no life'

Soon after that, Josile, Jordan and their remaining party headed back to base. Jordan had yet to fulfil her revenge. She would have her time.
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Far Dareis Mai
Life is a dream — that knows no shade.
Life is a dream — of pain and woe.
A dream from which — we pray to wake.
A dream from which — we wake and go
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