The Battle of Starbase 234 - Part 3 - Within The Castle Walls

Posted on Sun Jan 4th, 2026 @ 2:58pm by Captain Taiga Aisaka & Commander Thomas Johnson & Lieutenant Teneca Quinn & Lieutenant Commander Nyxala Valentine & Lieutenant Ralen Trellis & Lieutenant JG Dana Monroe
Edited on on Sun Jan 4th, 2026 @ 3:46pm

1,799 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: The Return
Location: USS Tokyo Transporter Room/ Starbase 234
Timeline: February 27, 2397

[USS Tokyo Transporter Room]

Thomas rushed down the corridor and into the transporter room, awaiting the arrival of the personnel to help repel, and rescue the people over there. The faster they were, he was hoping the more they could save.

Lt. Teneca Quinn stepped into the transporter room not long after the XO. The Chief Science Officer, had a type-2 phaser strapped to her hip and an engineering kit in her hand. Over her uniform, she wore a light-weight, but strong armor, that she'd helped develop for colonial security/police officers.

"Lt. Teneca Quinn, reporting for Away Mission, Commander Johnson, Sir." She said.

Counselor Ralen Trellis arrived at the transporter room still pulling on his jacket, blood from triage work staining his sleeves and collar. He'd barely finished sorting the last of the Denmark casualties when the call came through for the away team, and there hadn't been time to change.

His hands moved automatically to check his phaser and medical kit - his former Marine host, Jaret's muscle memory making the weapons check feel disturbingly natural. The Herald staff weapon leaned against the transporter room wall where he'd grabbed it on the way.

Back into combat. Again.

He wasn't excited about beaming into an active firefight. Every rational part of him - the counselor, the diplomat - wanted to stay in sickbay where he could do the most good. But the Tokyo's medical staff was overwhelmed with Denmark survivors, and the people on that starbase would need immediate trauma care that the station's own medical teams might not be able to provide.

"Counselor Trellis reporting," he said, stepping onto the pad beside Lieutenant Quinn. His spotted features were set with grim determination despite the exhaustion evident in his eyes. "Medical support and emergency counseling services."

Teneca acknowledged the Counselor with a nod.

Dana stepped into the transporter room, she could be of use on the away team even though she hadn’t officially been called to go. “With your permission Commander I would like to assist?”

"By all means Lt." He reached for the weapons that was in the crate beside him. "Heres your weapon."

“Thank you Sir” Dana nodded taking the offered weapon.

The Tokyo shook violently as they took fire. Then the comm system chimed. "Bridge to Transporter Room. We're going to duck under the Starbase, we can only lower the shields for two seconds. Be on the pad and ready to go! If you miss this window everyone on that starbase is dead." Came Taiga's voice. It had a little tone of frustration and even desperation in it.

"You heard the Captain, on the pad now." He replied taking one of the modified weapons, and two others on his back, on his sides, he also strung a few blades, as he knew it may just come down to that.

Teneca checked her gear and readied herself for transport.

Dana was quick to step up on the pad, ready to go.

The ship shook again. Then Taiga voice echoed through the room. "Away team NOW!". The transporter operator wasted no time as he energised the team on the pad engulfing them in blue and white light. Within two seconds they were gone.

[Starbase 234]

Smoke billowed through the air, rolling high through the open areas and corridors. Sparks spluttered out of wall consoles showering out. Chattering away and dancing lively were flames bursting from systems. Debris and bodies littered the floors and some of the walls between rooms had huge gaping holes.

In some areas forcefields flickered, struggling to keep the atmosphere contained as huge breaches in the external hull exposed the interior to the vacuum of space. The sound of phaser fire, screams and cries hung in the air, along with the distinct sound of the Herald's Antiproton staff weapons. The smell of burning, blood, smoke, fire and death surrounded the team as they materialised onto the once grand starbase, now transformed into an all out war zone.

Counselor Ralen Trellis materialized into hell.

The acrid smoke hit him first, filling his lungs and triggering an immediate coughing fit. Then came the screams - raw, desperate voices calling for help, for loved ones, for anyone. The sound of antiproton weapons fire crackled somewhere in the distance, punctuated by the groaning of stressed metal and the explosive decompression of failing hull sections.

Hualan. This is Hualan all over again.

The memories of Ralen's previous host, Jaret, slammed into him with visceral force - the ruins, the bodies, the chaos of a city dying. Except these weren't his memories. They were someone else's nightmare that he was forced to live through again.

"Commander," Ralen said urgently to Johnson, forcing himself to focus despite the sensory overload. "We need to establish triage points and start moving people to safe zones for transport. This station is coming apart."

People ran past them in blind panic, some heading for escape pods, others simply fleeing from the sound of weapons fire. A Bolian woman stumbled over debris, her uniform torn and bloody. Further down the corridor, a section of ceiling had collapsed, trapping several crew members beneath twisted metal.

The structural integrity was shot. Forcefields flickered weakly against hull breaches, barely containing the atmosphere. Every deck they could see was compromised - gaping holes in walls, exposed conduits sparking and burning, bodies lying where they'd fallen.

The entire starbase shook violently as Herald weapons fire rocked the base. Several sections of roofing gave way and crashed to the deck, pulling down conduits, wires and other debris with them. The roof sections comprised of tritanium cut into the deck, slicing the carpet and lodging themselves into the floor.

Thomas looked around to his officers that had joined him. Taking out the Elachi weapon, the gun transporter, they hadn't figured out how to recharge it, but they did find out how to set the destination. He turned to Lt Monroe, "We come to anyone alive, point and shoot them, it transports anyone hit by the beam to the Tokyo, but be careful we haven't figured out how to charge it, it's limited." He took a moment to gather his surroundings. There were people screaming dying, calling for Mom... unfortunately the past few missions had gotten him used to this. Remaining calm, he motioned to them to go ahead. He grabbed a bag that was on his side, and handed each a tag... just like the Denmark, leave the dead, and transport anyone else by tagging them.

"Be careful of any door you walk in, in case of open space. Even if you hear pleas for help. Some won't be able to get it." That last remark made his heart sink. He took point heading down the corridor. Weapons drawn.

Dana took the transporter weapon, she gave it a quick look over. “If we had more time we could figure out the charging process, but right now what charge it has will have to do.”

Ralen moved through the chaos with increasing efficiency, his prior hosts' combat medical training taking over as his counselor's sensitivity retreated to somewhere distant and protected. The Marine knew how to function in hell - you compartmentalized, you prioritized, you didn't let yourself feel until the job was done.
He found the first survivor pinned beneath a fallen support beam - a young human ensign, maybe twenty-two, her legs crushed. She was conscious, which was worse. Her eyes locked onto his with desperate hope.

"Stay still," he said firmly, his voice carrying more of a command authority rather than a counselor's gentle reassurance. His tricorder confirmed what he already knew - severe trauma, internal bleeding, but salvageable if they moved fast. He slapped a red emergency tag on her uniform. "You're getting out of here. Don't move that beam."

Further down the corridor, an Andorian civilian was cradling a child - his daughter, maybe six years old, her antenna drooping with shock. Minor injuries, both of them. Yellow tags. "Head that direction," Ralen pointed toward where the away team was establishing a rally point.

The station shook again, and Ralen braced himself against the wall as more debris rained down. Another section of ceiling groaned ominously above them. His hands didn't shake. He knew that he had to stay focused on the immediate task ahead of him.

A Tellarite security officer stumbled toward them, one arm hanging useless, his uniform burned. "Heralds... deck seven... they're everywhe..." he gasped before collapsing. Ralen caught him, checked vitals - stable enough. Green tag. "You'll make it. Keep pressure on that arm."

He looked up at the other away team members. "We need someone needs to check those sealed compartments," he added, gesturing toward a blast door showing signs of decompression on the other side. "There might be survivors in sealed sections, but we'll need engineering expertise to get them out without killing them."

Thomas paused before answering, "We need to get moving. Lets keep moving." This station wasn't going to be holding up for long, the beating it was taking. Stopping for maybe someone in them... stops the rescue. "You heard the officer, deck seven... Prepare for firefight." He watched as the security officer was beamed over to the Tokyo. Before walking down the corridor.

Ralen's hand tightened on his medical kit as Commander Johnson issued the order to move on. The counselor in him wanted to protest - there could be dozens of people trapped in those sealed sections, terrified, running out of air, waiting for rescue that wasn't coming.

"Commander—" he started, then stopped himself.

Jaret's memories supplied the cold logic with brutal clarity. The Heralds on deck seven were actively killing people. Every second spent cutting through sealed doors was time those killers had to murder more survivors. Tactical priorities. Eliminate the active threat first.

Save the many by abandoning the few.

His jaw clenched, the internal war visible on his spotted features for just a moment. The counselor screamed that every life mattered, that they couldn't just leave people to suffocate in sealed compartments. But the Marine understood that stopping to rescue a handful meant condemning dozens - maybe hundreds - who were dying right now on deck seven.

"Understood, sir," he said finally, his voice tight. He adjusted his grip on the Herald staff weapon.

He moved to follow Commander Johnson toward deck seven, but cast one last look at the sealed blast door. Somewhere behind it, people might be trapped. Alive. Waiting.

Posting By:

Captain Taiga Aisaka
Commanding Officer
USS Tokyo

Commander Thomas Johnson
Executive Officer
USS Tokyo

Lieutenant Teneca Quinn
Chief Science Officer
USS Tokyo

Lieutenant Nyxala Valentine
Chief Medical Officer
USS Tokyo

Lieutenant Ralen Trellis
Counsellor
USS Tokyo

Lieutenant JG Dana Monroe
Operations Officer
USS Tokyo

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