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Attack at City Center (OPEN TO ALL)

Posted June 1, 2022, 3:58 p.m. by General Calvin Harris (Command General- Colonial Customs and Defence Authority) (Jerome Davis)

Posted by Civilian Molly Holloway (CEO - Holloway Industries) in Attack at City Center (OPEN TO ALL)

Posted by General Calvin Harris (Command General- Colonial Customs and Defence Authority) in Attack at City Center (OPEN TO ALL)

Posted by Civilian Kristina Cosgrove (Future Citizen) in Attack at City Center (OPEN TO ALL)
Posted by… suppressed (11) by the Post Ghost! 👻
HHI Chairman Lucas Holloway and CCDA Commandant General Calvin Harris settled into their seats as the already moving Executive Shuttle pulled away from the new Holloway Heavy Industries Central Construction Platform… a massive, space station-sized facility that stayed locked in a geosynchronous orbit above OED City… clearly visible with the dome now gone. The men laughed and enjoyed the view on the approach into the City Center Landing Facility which was about equidistant from both HHI Tower and the Headquarters of the CCDA. The Shuttle’s pilot had just switched on the Final Approach indicator light in the cabin when a piercing alarm klaxon sounded through the open door to the cockpit.

Both men froze, each knowing the sound immediately. “Missile Launch!” Barked the Sensor Tech as the Shuttle rolled suddenly hard to Starboard and dove nearly straight down. The pilot snapped the comm open. =A= This Holloway One… declaring an emergency…=A=

Holloway closed his eyes, fighting the sudden urge to lose his lunch in the craft that had just moments before killed the Inertial Compensator. He was thankful he had on his safety belt. Harris was not as lucky, the former pilot flying across the cabin after his belt failed… slamming first into the Port bulkhead then, as the craft snapped into a dive that would make any pilot proud, fell straight down… nearly falling through the cockpit hatch.

The pilot’s voice continued. =A= … Missile inbound! Bearing 247, mark 3 nin…=A=

A split second after the ground came into sharp view… the missile struck home.

The Shuttle was less than 300 feet off the ground when the missile slammed into its Port nacel, the entire ten seconds of drama caught by a photojournalist from FNN near the Landing Facility for a different story. She had just got the focus shot of the HHI crest on the side of the craft when the explosion shattered windows throughout the area and the flaming wreckage smashed through the front of a neighborhood grocery store two seconds later at over 300 miles per hour.

Moments later, a cacophony of screams and emergency sirens filled the air as the panic of what had just happened set in on the people of OED V. The crackling blue glow of the Cabin’s crash shields blinked out and a single limp arm in CCDA Black dropped into the smashed remains of the HHI Executive Craft cockpit.

A half mile away, a lone figure disappeared into a Transporter pattern from the roof of three story structure. The only evidence of his presence was the char marks from the shoulder launched missile on the concrete roof.

Condor

Dawson’s facility known as Secret Securities was handed down to a man named Eric Carlisle. A local reporter was interested in interviewing him about the purchase and his experience with the place. Unfortunately, that did not happen. However, he was prepared to show off some of the latest in technologies being researched by the company. He had seen the shuttle plummeting and a missile strike one of it’s nacelles. As soon as he saw it, he kept an eye on the sky as he sprung to action. Jumping to the back of his vehicle, he opened a compartment with a new type of vest. It was designed not only to take some hits, but it was also heat resistant. It was only a set of pants and vest, so his arms were somewhat bare. He put a communications unit to his ear and connected it to radio channels to monitor orders issued.

Kristina was walking towards the University when something exploded not too far ahead of her. A wash of air flowed over her, but luckily she was far enough away from what remained of the grocery store that she didn’t get hit by any debris. The blast did knock her on her ass though and she sat there on the pavement staring at the wreckage.

Instinctively, she moved towards it, wondering if there was anyone alive, either from the craft or the store. Her footsteps broke into a run as she realized that it was the middle of the day and anyone could have bene going about their business. And the shops adjacent too! As flames began, she was horrified at the idea that she could do nothing but watch. She had some basic first aid, but that wouldn’t do much in a situation like this.

~Kristina Cosgrove

Eric ran as quickly as he could to the scene at the store. So far lots of chatter on the comms, but no authorities present. His former starfleet training kicked in as he neared it. “Nobody go in! Everyone needs to get out of here!” he yelled to the general vicinity of people present.

He moved towards the store as many others ran from the scene. He had to get in there and do what he could, but somebody needed to stay out here and exercise some authority until the actual authorities arrived on the scene.

He looked about, trying to getting a baring on people present and who might be able to help.

-Eric Carlisle, Owner of Secret Securities

Having spent the last few months on Earth on company business (according to the official reports anyway), Molly Holloway had been scheduled to return home that afternoon.

As the shuttle touched down at the City Center Landing Facility, the CEO of Holloway Heavy Industries could not wait to get home. Tired, all she could think of was a hot bath.

Slinging her duffel bag over her shoulder and making a beeline for the exit, Molly could already see the company’s hovercar that her uncle had made available for her waiting outside. She sighed. Normally she would just walk home, but today she was too exhausted not to take it…

But Holloway never made it to the car.

Without warning, the deafening sound of an explosion filled the air, accompanied by the shattering of all glass windows and doors. The ground shook, forcing many to their knees.

Sirens blared, and as the realization of what had happened settled in, people started to run towards the shattered exit doors, dragging with them anyone who stood in their way. Children were crying and families were trying frantically not to get separated.

Molly managed to get up before anyone stumbled on her, but she couldn’t escape the mass of people flowing to the doors, and she quickly found herself in the middle of the crowd, struggling to breathe as the pressure around her increased with the doors’ natural bottleneck.

Until she was dragged outside. The fresh breeze was welcome on her face.

As most people ran away from the Landing Facility, Molly looked up to the sky where the trail made by a falling object was distinctly visible.

The sheer violence of the impact would live with those who had witnessed it for years. The damaged nacelle had cause the shuttle to roll on its back the moment before it hit like a large, black turtle. The cockpit had slammed into the ground first, grinding away the front 3 meters of the craft… and the lives of the three men that had tried desperately to protect their charge. Blood stained the broken street and sidewalk in front of what, until moments ago, been one of City Center’s oldest family own grocery stores. The street was littered with the bodies of the dead and wounded as the crash & ensuing explosion had leveled an adjacent salon as well as the former store at the crash site.

100 meters from the crash, a visibly shaken Preschool Teacher was hurrying her students… banged up but appearing ok… away from the crash. “Come on… we need to get to somewhere safe. It’s gonna be OK.” The teacher said softly to the dozen odd students, one… with a visible cut on her arm… was being carried by the teacher as the child cried for her mommy and held tight to the little boy next to the teacher, likely her brother, who was arguing about not leaving her bear behind.

As Carlisle approached the shuttle, he could see the remains of the craft’s Emergency Crash Foam dissipating and a single arm hanging from the hatch to the back compartment. The sleeve had military stripes of gold on a black sleeve… and the fingers on the exposed hand were moving.

Condor

Eric leapt into action. As he looked over the crash in order to find a safe way forward toward the individual, he hollered out. “My name is Eric Carisle, I’m here to help. Can you hear me?”

-Eric Carlisle

There was no sound that came from the craft… but the hand picked up a piece of debris and began to tap it against the frame of the door.

So someone was at least alive.

There was a small crowd of curious people walking in the direction of the scene. Holloway joined them. It wasn’t until she drew closer that she identified the debris of what seemed to be a shuttlecraft, followed by the blood… and the bodies…

Molly ran down the street, hoping to be able to help in some way. There was a man carefully approaching the debris. Was he… was he talking to someone?

With her bright red hair and freckled face, and her trademark ballerina bun, Molly Holloway was very easily recognizable by anyone. As the CEO of Holloway Heavy Industries she had been on the cover of several magazines (much to her own dismay), and the company itself as well as its President, Lucas Holloway, had made Federation News many times.

Visibly distraught Holloway looked around, trying to identify what had caused the vehicle to crash. And then she saw it, the half scorched Holloway Heavy Industries logo that had originally been painted on the side of the craft. Her heart dropped into her stomach. Who was in the shuttle? Who had been flying it? Only a handful of people flew those and she knew all of them. Not to mention… she shook her head, dismissing the thought.

Molly ran past the man and to the wreckage, seemingly not caring about a safer way to reach it. “Has anybody called the emergency services? There’s people in the wreckage!”

Molly Holloway, CEO of Holloway Heavy Industries

Eric’s gaze immediately turned to the shouting woman. He vaguely recognized her. “Emergency services are en route! Don’t climb in and attempt anything unless you know what you’re doing!”

The building that had taken the brunt of the impact was smoldering and distant sirens of emergency services from the landing facility began to grow as the two approached the wreckage. On the bottom of the half destroyed shuttle was the charred remains of the Holloway family crest, barely visible… as was the rest of the craft… in the smoke and sparks. As the would be rescuers moved in closer, the level of the carnage became more clear. The craft’s cockpit was gone, ground into the street on impact. From the angle of the craft, now on its back like a wounded turtle… the blood on the back wall of the cockpit was clearly all that remained of the flight crew.

Condor

Eric looked away and towards the supposed living people left. He had seen enough bloodshed in his lifetime. The gruesome way these people died was not lost on him, but he had to stay focused. He tapped his earpiece communications device to speak with local police on their channels. He was well aware that under most circumstances, taking charge or even communicating on police radio would have been very taboo. However in the midst of his purchase of Secret Securities, Dawson had shared information pertaining to his company’s good relationship with the local police. =/\=This is Eric Carlisle of Secret Securities. There are indeed wounded within the shuttle and we need medical services now!=/\=

He then quickened his pace to get inside and closer to the man making the noise within the shuttle. He was as observant as he could be, but time was not on their side. Any moment, more carnage could occur under the correct circumstances. “Hey, hold on! I’m almost there!”

-Eric Carlisle, Owner of Secret Securities

Kristina shook off her shock and wished (for just a moment) that she had even a smidge of her father and half-sister’s Starfleet training. They would both know what to do right now, act consciously. And here she was standing here like an idiot gobsmacked.

Finally, Kristina moved towards the people helping. “Tell me what you need!” she called out.

~Kristina Cosgrove

The hand dropped the debris and gripped the door frame, pulling the owner of the hand to through the opening… well, at least his head and shoulders.

The dirty, blood-stained space black uniform had four silver stars on red epaulets and the man’s jet black hair was matted to his head. He looked exhausted and shell shocked but the moment he saw Carlisle’s face… his voice gravelly barked the order. “Get… Holloway… out!”

Carlisle was new to OED, so he might not have recognized the CCDA Commandant… Molly, on the other hand, would know that voice anywhere.

Harris, CCDA

“Calvin!”

The name escaped her lips before she could stop it and she ran faster towards the wrecked shuttle. At first the knot in her gut grew stronger and then her brain kicked in. What was he doing on a HHI shuttle to begin with? And why did he wanted her out of there? Had he even looked in her direction long enough to see her?

It was only when she got closer to the shuttle that she saw what remained of the Holloway crest painted in the bottom of the craft. This wasn’t any shuttle. This was the family’s shuttle. The one her uncle used when…

Get Holloway out. Suddenly the words made sense. It wasn’t her… it was Lucas. Her uncle was inside the shuttle…

As she got closer to the shuttle, Molly ran her fingers next to what was left of the door. Turning to the man and the woman coming in to help, she could feel her training kicking in. As a former Starfleet Captain and an expert on survival strategies, she knew how to handle the wreckage. Her emergency aid, however, was limited to what first aid Starfleet had taught her.

Holloway waited for the other two to get closer before speaking calmly and clearly. “My name is Molly Holloway. This is my uncle’s shuttlecraft. There is an emergency manual override for the door here.” She tapped the alloy next to the door frame softly. “It’s our best bet to be able to get anyone trapped inside out. I am hoping it opens without any trouble. Once I open it, I have no clue what we will find, but I will need help taking them out of here.”

“Are you ready? In three, two, one…” Pulling out the small lever, Molly rotated it, effectively trying to activate the manual override for the shuttle’s door and get it to open.

Molly Holloway, CEO Holloway Heavy Industries

There was a loud pop and a hiss as the pneumatic systems that secured the door released. The door dropped back into the craft and, due to the lack of power to the systems, swung open slowly under its own weight. The inside of the normally spectacular craft, one Molly had ridden many times before, was destroyed and Crash Foam could do little for the occupants due to the inertia of a truly violent impact.

The CCDA General lay to the front of the cabin, his left arm and both legs appeared broken… though Molly had seen him far worse when they escaped the Jem-Hedar base years ago, he was still in rough shape. The other man, Holloway, lay toward the back of the craft… pinned beneath debris with a shard of metal speared through his right thigh. There was blood and the man looked unconscious but breathing.

Harris blinked hard and strained against the glare of new light, trying to focus… as it dawned on him who was coming through the door he looked momentarily relived then a renewed panic washed over him. “Molly!” He coughed then looked to Lucas then back at his partner. “Missile…” He strained. “… not… accident.” He coughed once more. “Emergency transport… they could… be back.” With that, Calvin Harris collapsed back, exhausted.

Harris/Condor


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