Topic: The Two-Day War

[Grim Reaper]

Main character's a basket case.

Thanks kadh... I think. Hey, I'm the main character!

You think we didn't notice? Who else posts in unreadable colors than a basket case







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j/k

[Scottish Andy]

Hey, at least I'm posting this story in bog-standard, boring colour jsut so that you don't hurt your poor widdle eyes-y pies-y... *snort*

j/k

Anyhoo, here's the next installment. Enjoy, and keep up the cool commenting!

Chapter Seven

"First Officer's Personal Log, 20th October 2267, Stardate 3197.5

"We have been on station for three days now and still Karen will not talk to me outside of ship-related issues. Our arrival in the danger zone four hours after my being dismissed from the bridge did nothing to reconcile the differences Karen and I now share. I had thought the need for a strong command structure and the danger we all now face would override our anger, but she is being incredibly stubborn and having none of it.

"Admittedly I have been trying to talk to her about our problems every chance I get and this might just be hardening her resolve, but I have to keep trying, to tell her she is wrong about me.
However, I cannot help but feel intense anger towards her, no matter what reason that she may have for ignoring me. I am at a complete loss to explain her behaviour."

"Computer, end log entry." I glare around my room, trying to control my temper.

So it has come to this. Keeping a personal list of grudges against my commanding officer to cover my own hide if Command comes calling, asking why the two senior officers of a Federation starship are acting like five-year-olds.

I shake my head in disgust and head to the bridge. The solitude of the turbolift helps calm me, and I feel confident about concealing my personal feelings while on duty.

I step from the turbolift into chaos. I look round in amazement for a second, completely unnoticed, as maintenance checks are quickly and professionally completed and various technicians run too and fro across the bridge. The relief comm. officer is speaking calmly over the ship's intercom system, but there was an excited edge to his voice. It is a measure of my amazement at the general mêlée that I can hear his voice but not what he is saying, but then the second is over and I make my presence felt.

"All stations, report!" I yell.

All activity halts instantly, except the comm. officer whom I am still ignoring. I pick out the senior officer present and advance on him. The rest of the bridge crew resume their duties and try to remain inconspicuous.

"Science Officer Enax, what the hell is going on here?" I demand in a normal tone of voice.

Before the Edoan can answer, Karen steps out of the bridge toilet facilities. She takes in everything with a glance before saying, "Mr. Brown, come with me. The rest of you, as you were. Finish up what you were doing and prepare the ship for maximum warp speed."

At Enax's look, she says, "Carry on, Lieutenant. You have the conn."

Without another word to me, she heads for the turbolift. I follow silently.
She grabs a command handle and says, "Deck two."

"Captain--" I start, but she cuts me off with a wave.

Once safely concealed in the briefing room below the bridge, Karen rounds on me.
"What the hell was that?" she demands.

"What was what?"

"'What' is you coming in and acting like a martinet to people under orders!"

I decide to let the insult go, as it will obviously side-track me from finding out what I want to know. Besides, she has her opinion of me and my protestations to the contrary will not alter that.

"Captain, with all due respect I came onto a bridge that looked like it was getting put back together after being ripped apart, as well as a boatload of tech staff running around like headless chickens! You were nowhere to be seen and I had not been informed of any maintenance, scheduled or otherwise, that needed performed at that time! Now--"

"Then you obviously don't check the ship's log or bulletin boards as often as you should, Lieutenant."

Her words carry an undertone of hostility and I realise that I'd better reign in my own temper--yet again. The last thing I need right now is to be thrown in the brig for insubordination. I decide to say nothing and let her explain, which she does.

"An hour ago I posted a notice to all department heads that a damage control drill was to be performed as of 1155 hours today. This drill involved simulating a bridge hit that disabled most equipment and was to test how quickly they could all be pulled out and replaced or repaired. Why did you not receive this bulletin, Mr. Brown? Your duty schedule had you relaxing for that period. You should have had plenty of time to check with the ship's logs."

I stand there, eyes locked on the bulkhead behind her and curse myself for a fool. During that time I was indeed 'relaxing'. I had went down to the gym to work out all my rage and frustration and lost track of time. I had got deep into the savage pleasure of pounding the crap out of whatever boxing equipment I could use, and only just caught myself in time. I managed to catch a quick shower and make a personal log entry before heading to the bridge.

Karen was staring hard at me, obviously expecting an answer.

"Sir, I lost track of time while exercising in the gym. As a result, I did not have time to check the daily schedule before having to appear on the bridge."

Karen's eyes narrowed at me. She had obviously heard about what I was doing in the gym and easily made the connection as to why I was doing it.

"Lieutenant Brown, you are the First Officer of a Class One Federation Starship. If your recreational activities are interfering with your duties, I can make sure that you are transferred somewhere that you have all the off-duty time you require."

I say, very tightly, "That will not be necessary, Captain."

"See that it isn't, Mr. Brown. If you are distracted from your duties then you are a danger to my ship and crew and I will have you relieved and replaced."

Fighting to maintain an expressionless face--and failing, I think--I grit out, "Understood."

Karen goes to the conference table and uses the intercom. "Mr. Enax, is the bridge fully operational again?"

"Almost, Captain. I was about to inform you that it was done."

"Okay. Instruct Ensign Al-Mahaid to inform Commander Matel on the Pharris that we are now ready for departure. Implement any course and speed instructions he orders."

"Aye sir. Bridge out."

I remain silent, even though I desperately want to know what is happening and why our squadron is about to leave our patrol station. Karen turns back to face me, a fine eyebrow arched. "Not curious to know what is going on, Lieutenant?"

"Sir, I was assuming that you would tell me anything I need to know."

"Assumptions can be dangerous, and lack of curiosity is not what is looked for in those who aspire to starship duty in Starfleet, Mr. Brown."

I hold myself stock-still, not wanting to respond--or even to give the satisfaction of a reaction--to the barbs she is digging into me. It seems I can no longer do anything right for her. I get the distinct impression that had I asked what was up, Karen would have berated me for being too quick to question or otherwise found fault. I am whipcord tense, so I will myself to relax, finally succeeding just before she speaks again.

"It seems that even while on the bridge, your little performance took up so much of your attention that the comm. officer's all-call throughout the ship didn't register on you. Therefore I will now inform you that as of 1200 hours today, the 20th of October 2267, the United Federation of Planets is at war with the Klingon Empire."

My animosity for my CO falls away momentarily as I try to accept this horrible news. Oh, I knew that 'war is imminent' and all that, but I had been expecting the diplomats to sort it out. That was their job after all. I honestly thought that the redeployment of the Fleet was going to make the Klingons back down, reconsider.
Did the Klingons really believe that they could beat us? my mind stammers at me. But--but we're the Federation!

All this passes through my mind in a second, but I have to keep paying attention as Karen continues.

"...Command has ordered full mobilisation of auxiliary and planetary defence fleets. Long-range border sensors have indicated movements all over the place and major Klingon fleet elements on course for strategic border systems. Our nearest border early warning sensors detected two squadrons of small Klingon ships before being destroyed. The data that was received is being analysed and we'll be updated en-route. Now that the bridge is back together, we can set out to the area where the sensors were destroyed. That intercept vector will be refined once the Klingons are detected again."

Pausing for breath, Karen is interrupted by the intercom.

"Bridge to Captain McCafferty," comes the voice of Ensign Al-Mahaid.

"Captain here. Go ahead."

"Sir, we are now on an intercept vector at maximum warp speed, heading for the Klingon ships. Starfleet Command at Starbase Twelve has been informed, but no reinforcements are immediately available due to heavy engagement. Other task forces are inbound for our general area, however, with ETA's beginning from six hours onwards."

"Understood. Have we a clearer picture of what we are up against?" Karen asks.

Lt. Enax comes on the 'com next. "Captain, we believe we are facing six Klingon E4-class escorts. Klingon fleet tactics do not cover the use of so many escorts as a single fighting unit, so we are unsure of what tactics they might employ. It is my estimate that they will break into two squadrons and attack from different vectors, attempting to separate us and split our fire."

"I see. Okay, forward this information to Commander Matel on the Pharris and coordinate with both our sister ships to come up with defensive and offensive tactics."

"Aye, sir. Any further orders?" comes the reply.

"No, Mr. Brown and I will be on the bridge momentarily. What is our intercept ETA?"

"Two hours, 17 minutes, present speed sir."

"Thank you, Mr. Enax. Captain, out." Karen looks over to me and, with no trace of our previous animosity evident, asks, "Care to accompany me to the bridge, Lieutenant?"

I take note of the excitement and nervousness in her voice, only hearing it because I've known her so long. I only feel scared, and determined not to lose my nerve as I often fear I might.

I nod meaningfully, and with a confidence I don't feel reply, "Yes sir. Let's make these Klingon animals regret ever crossing the Federation!"

Karen nods, and with that we both head to the bridge, and to war.

[Sirgod]

Whoot Nice work there My Coffee Drinking Brother. Outside of the Praise for your Writting, How you doing man? It's been far to long since we talked. I hope all is well Bro.

stephen

[Grim Reaper]

I wonder when the tension is going to break. Cause this ain't gonna help anyone. Still I'd think she should know better. I wonder whether she'll realise this before, after or during the battle.

[kadh2000]

The way it looks from my chair is that the Cap'n is very close to having to put a psychological black mark on this guy's career and doing everything she can think of not to have to do that.  The guy's let his misplaced anger (hey, he's no longer stuck in a nightmare but is this much better?) seriously affect his job performance.

[Sethan]

Perhaps the Captain is simply a very good actress - and a great deal smarter than her first officer thinks.

[Commander La'ra]

I think McCafferty has issues of her own, and she's a little jealous of Brown because he got to vent and she didn't.

I also think they're both too young to be in the positions they're in.

Interesting mix of circumstances, there.

[kadh2000]

Overall, it's awesome to find the story has generated this much speculation!

[Scottish Andy]

Oh, I agree Kadh! It's brilliant to get this much feedback. I don't think it did anywhere near this well when I first posted it on Taldren!

Guys, muchos muchos grandos thanksos for all the commenting. I can but say that I'm touched. *smile*

Sethan! Sethan the Great (Procrastinator, *grin*) has commented on my story! I must surely have arrived now.

Stephen, I'm really glad you're enjoying the story. I personally am fine, but I hope you'll forgive me as I don't really remember us having talked much before. Please, feel free to refresh my admittedly spotty memory.

All the resy of you guys, I'm glad I've got you guessing. 
Anyway, here's the next chapter. Let's see what you make of it.

Chapter Eight

First Officer's Log, 20th October 2267, Stardate 3198.1

The Kusanagi, along with her sister ships Suvik and Pharris, are en-route to engage two squadrons of Klingon E4-class escorts. We are outnumbered and I believe that this will tip the odds in their favour, despite their ships being inferior to ours in both durability and firepower. I can only hope that our tactics will prove to be better than those of the Klingons.

*****

I remember the words of my log, entered as I manned a spare seat at the Environmental Control bridge station barely 30 minutes ago, as the Klingon formations appear on our sensors.

"Captain, six enemy vessels entering sensor range." A few seconds' pause. "They're going sublight!" Urrih Maknal reports.

"Lt. Lathena, put me on ship-wide broadcast. Helm and Nav, take your lead from the Pharris."

"Aye-aye, sir."

"You are on, Captain."

"All hands, this is the Captain. We have intercepted the Klingon squadrons. Stand by to engage, prepare to repel boarders at any moment, and may our Gods protect us all. Good luck."

Signalling the comm. officer to close the all-call, Karen asks for tactical data. Our Edoan science officer briefs the bridge crew.

"Sir, we have six standard-configuration Klingon E4-class escorts in two three-ship squadrons. Squadron leaders are designated targets K1 and K4, their portside wings designated K2 and K5, and starboard wings designated K3 and K6. All enemy vessels approaching at three-quarters impulse, level two ECM, shields up, weapons armed and ready. Targets K1 to K3 bearing 010 mark 358, targets K4 to K6 bearing 043 mark 001. Both enemy squadrons seem to be angling for the Pharris, range now 250,000km and closing fast."

"Very well. Squadron status?" Karen inquires.

"The squadron leader has us in a right echelon, 5,000km separation between us but so that all our ships are equally distant from the enemy squadrons. We are closing at an angle to spread fire from both enemy squadrons on two shield fronts. We are looking to engage all our firepower on one shield of one ship, at optimum proximity torpedo range, between 90 and 129,000km. It seems--"

Our Andorian comm. officer breaks in. "Captain, Pharris designates target K2 for our initial barrage. Proximity photons and phasers to be used once K2 is inside 130,000km. We are to wait until it presents a weaker rear shield."

"Acknowledge and confirm receipt of targeting orders, Lieutenant," I tell Lathena. "Helm and Navigation, continue to execute course, speed and weapons targeting in accordance with the Pharris's cues until countermanded by the Captain."

A chorus of "Aye-aye, sir's" come back to me and I turn to Karen for approval.

To my surprise I get it with no enmity behind it. She returns to her conversation with Enax, and I take a moment to reflect upon my surprise. I have known Karen for four years and enjoyed a good, friendly working relationship with her up until our little incident. But because of that incident--only four days ago!--I have come to expect only animosity and dressing-downs from her. I can't believe how quickly one anticipation has replaced the other. Now that danger--immediate, actually bearing-down-on-us danger--has appeared, our feud has been forgotten.

Apparently.

I am taking this as a good sign and I'm not about to bring it back to mind. I decide right now to forget the whole bad affair and consign it to the depths if Karen lets it go as well. I mentally cross my fingers and hope for the best.

The bridge goes quiet once again, only to be broken by Enax reporting.
"Range 200,000km. Enemy switching from level two ECM to level two ECCM."

Lathena adds, "Captain, Pharris orders level three ECM and level one ECCM, and set speed to three-quarters impulse."

"Helm and Weapons, comply. Communications, acknowledge and confirm," Karen says calmly.

The "Aye-aye's" echo back again. A few more seconds pass with everyone remaining remarkably calm, considering that the odds are two-to-one. Then:

"Klingons firing, range 150,000km! All enemy ships targeting Pharris, disruptors only."

"Both squadrons are breaking away: K1-3 turning left, K4-6 going right. Looks like they are not wasting phaser power, keeping speed up, EW changing back to two ECM..."

The running commentary from Enax is interrupted by Lieutenant Commander Matel's voice coming into the bridge over the 'com speakers:
"All ships, level two ECCM, come starboard eight degrees and FIRE!"

Our target had presented its aft-port shield to us and looked to be holding that course, so as soon as we had closed the distance to 120,000km our squadron leader told us to turn so that all our phaser banks came to bear.

The viewscreen shows our squadron's weaponry being unleashed at a single enemy vessel. Six photon torpedoes and nine phaser beams make for a very impressive sight against the inky blackness of space.
As soon as we fire, Matel signals for us to put some distance between the Klingons and ourselves to allow our torpedoes to reload. Karen is occupied with her tactical screen, so I order status readouts.

"Condition of the Pharris?" I ask.

Enax tells me, "Undamaged sir, but both her forward and forward-port shields are reduced to 33% and holding."

Ouch! I mentally wince. If we are to survive against six escorts we have to do better than that. "Condition of K2?"

"Sir, a probe fired at him shows he has lost two-thirds of his port warp nacelle, his shuttlebay, auxiliary reactor, port disruptor, port impulse engine and various hull areas breached to space. Heavy damage, and we can destroy him easily with another full salvo." Enax looks more closely at his readings then states, "He has come to a full halt and has set level six ECM. He seems to be attempting repair and is maximising his self-protection. Distance to target is 153,296km. Remaining E4's curving back round on a pursuit course, range 143,000km and closing!"

I look over to our own tactical situation screen. We are in line abreast, heading away from the Klingons at two-fifths impulse, with level two ECM while all our weapons recharge.

The Klingons are heading right for us at three-quarters impulse, level two ECCM--although target K4 seems to be pulling ahead slightly at full impulse with no EW.

Enax calls out again. "Klingons firing on Pharris! Disruptors only". He pauses for a moment then adds, "Pharris' aft and aft-port shields are both down to 40% and holding."

So far, our tactics seem to be working as we have crippled an enemy ship already while they had yet to break our shields.

That all changed in the next minute.

Our phasers have recharged and our torpedoes are halfway when target K4 catches up with us. He targets the Suvik and we are expecting a point-blank barrage, but the Klingon ship slaps a tractor beam on the Suvik, performs a 180 degree HET and starts to drag our sister ship back to his pack. All three of our ships fire point-blank into him, but his well-timed High Energy Turn spreads our firepower over four shields and it is diluted too much.

We watch the Suvik even fire her two defensive phasers, trying to break the weak rear shield of the tractoring E4. As we and the Pharris turn back into the battle to rescue our sister ship, the E4's shield goes down and we detect transporter activity. Captain N'Tarr is attempting a marine raid to try and destroy the tractor holding him.

I feel a surge of hope. That's quick thinking! Lets hope it works...

It does not save him.

The other four Klingons swoop in to join K4 and they release a swarm of drones right at the Suvik's down shield.

Now, the E4 only has one drone launcher and somehow we had discounted them as being a low threat. But when there are six E4's you have a far greater danger.

We and the Pharris try firing at the drones, but we can't hit any. With the Suvik effectively halted in space and us in a large arc, we were already 60,000km away. I watched two drones get snagged in defensive tractor beams, but the other three drones smash home. The E4's fire all their phasers as well, doing maximum damage. The defensive tractors cut out and the last two drones impact on our wounded sister ship.

She explodes in a small nova, taking all hands with her.

I didn't even have the minute satisfaction of her death damaging her captor, as K4 released its tractor as the first drones hit and fled to a safe distance.

I stare in pure shock at the viewscreen, at the conflagration that had been a fine Starfleet vessel with a crew of 160.

Shaking myself out of it, I turn to Karen. She is already out of her seat and snapping out orders. I am lucky enough that I just tune in to catch my own.

"Andrew, hail Commander Matel and ask if we can retreat. We are in over our heads and preserving our vessels should be our foremost concern. Suggest falling back to our nearest reinforcements and regrouping there."

"Aye-aye, sir!" I reply, and head over to the comm. station. I talk with Lathena about the captain's request, phrasing it a shade more diplomatically. Lathena had been off-duty but Karen had recalled all our most able and experienced bridge crew to duty for the battle. This is our front-line team. Our second-line people are in the Auxiliary Bridge handling damage control, and ready to take over at a moment's notice.

Lathena hands me a hardcopy of the squadron leader's response, looking distinctly ill-at-ease. I can't blame her. Turning back to face my captain, she can read the bad news in my face. She asks, "Well?"

I just hand her the printout. She reads aloud:

"'Retreat not an option. Stand your ground and prepare to attack again. This is no time for cowardice.'"

Karen's hands crush the printout as she barks out more orders. Orders that she hasn't read aloud but that are laid down on the hardcopy nonetheless.

"Reconfigure torpedo B for proximity fuse! Designate target K4! Fire through its down rear shield with torpedo A and all main phasers! Await firing order from the Pharris!"

She looks back up at me, fire in her eyes. "That fool is going to get us all killed!" she snarls in a voice for my ears only.

Again, I can't help but agree. I suggest, "Captain, it may be a good idea to both prep a shuttle as a sensor decoy and set tractor repel level two."

Before she can reply, Matel's voice orders, "FIRE!"

Our phasers and two full-strength photon torpedoes lash out at the weakened enemy ship. Our torpedo misses! The other hits, as do all our phasers, and another E4 is crippled. However, it is still going faster than we are and as it edges into proximity rage, we fire again. This time, both explode close enough to do extensive damage.

"Ensign Salok, why did out first torpedo miss?" Karen asks angrily of our Vulcan navigator/weapons officer.

"Captain, a last second alteration of the target vessel's electronic warfare levels confused the torpedo's guidance software and caused it to pursue a ghost image." The Vulcan turns from his task for a moment to face the captain. "I apologise for my inability to correct the torpedo's flight-path, sir."

Karen sighs loudly. "No, Salok, it is okay. I know how these things happen. So, status of target K4?"

"Dead in space, Captain. I still have life-form readings, but sensors indicate a loss of antimatter containment within five minutes from its damaged starboard nacelle," Enax reported.

"New target designation from Pharris, Captain: K1. Load standard torpedoes and be ready to close for a killing salvo. Prepare to defend each other from a drone salvo. Set ECM level one, ECCM level one, speed two-fifths impulse."

"Acknowledge and confirm, Lieutenant. People, you heard the orders. Stay on Pharris's wing, distance 5,000km," Karen orders briskly.

The "Aye-aye's" snap back, and we follow Pharris as she curves around in a wide arc to keep us at a reasonable distance from the Klingons until our torpedoes are charged.

The Klingons do not stay away, though. I watch as on screen they form a V formation with their four active ships and barrel in right at us.

We watch their approach with concern, and Matel tries to tighten our turn to face them with our powerful main phasers, but the Klingon escorts are more manoeuvreable than our frigates and they are moving faster.

"Mr. Enax, readout on the Klingon ships!" I bark.

"Sir... they have no EW active, speed is two-thirds impulse, they are closing to 50,000km... Sir! I am reading overload-level energy in their disruptors! They are targeting the Pharris and vectoring in on the damaged rear shields!"

I spun round. "Lathena! Warn Matel, tell them to HET, reinforce shields, increase ECM!"

I turn back to Karen, but my next words die unspoken on my lips as I see the terrible knowledge in her eyes.

"Helm, do whatever you can to face the enemy. Weapons, target the nearest E4 and fire whatever weapons that bear, coordinate with Helm. Also, prepare defensive tractors and hold our defensive phasers in reserve."

Her voice is so quiet. She's just sitting there, expressionless.

She is still expressionless when a brief reply to my urgent message comes back, unheard as our weaponry lashes out at the strong forward shield of our closest enemy.

I watch her eyes close in grief as the Klingons get to within 40,000km of the Pharris and unload all their weaponry. The pretty, graceful little Starfleet frigate explodes, literally torn apart by the Klingon disruptors. Karen's head stays bowed for a brief span of seconds, then she snaps upright, pronouncing:

"I'm not staying here to die."

It was a sentiment all of us on the bridge were in hearty agreement with. None of us are afraid to die if it means something. But to die uselessly out here, completely overmatched by sheer weight of numbers if nothing else--well, we don't want it to happen.

We will escape and return to fight another day. However, I can see that even with this prevalent sentiment, the crew is still reluctant to leave. It would confirm for all that the Klingons had beaten us. But even the reluctant ones could see that four against one are not good odds with which to carry on the fight.

So, barely a second after her pronouncement, Karen is barking orders again.

"Lathena, inform Starfleet that our position has been overrun and we are withdrawing."

"Yes, Sir."

"Salok, plot a course to our nearest reinforcements or second-line task force. Urrih, go to Yellow Alert, disengage all weapons systems and engage on Salok's course at emergency warp speed. We'll reduce to maximum sustainable warp when we're out of danger. "

"Yes, Captain."

"Aye-aye, sir."

"Enax, leave a probe behind to monitor the activities of the Klingons. Try to make it as sensor-see-through as possible, but do not take too much time to do it."

"Aye-aye, Captain."

"Lathena, get me Engineering."

Toggling switches, Lathena halts her message to Starfleet Command and gets our chief engineer on the 'com.

"Trey`gar here, Captain."

"Engineer, I need full warp speed right now, plus shield power."

"You have it, Captain. Warp speed is available now and I can monitor shield reinforcement on an as-needed basis."

"Very good, Lieutenant. Bridge, out."

"Course laid in, Captain."

"Max warp now, Mr Maknal."

"Warp speed, sir."

Warp speed comes none too soon. We are heading out from the Klingon ships at full sublight speed and maintaining level three ECM. But the Klingons are trying to englobe us and as we have to curve back round to face our own territory again they are closing the distance rapidly.

They are just entering optimum disruptor range--150,000km--when we finally flash into warp speed.
The Klingons looked like they would follow, but they broke off. Probably to consolidate their position, repair their wounded ships and crew--and call in their victory.

Their victory.

That really hurt.

As we sped--fled--into the depths of Federation space, I privately vowed I will be back. This is not over, not by a long shot.

[Jaeih t`Radaik]

Hey Andy,

As you know, I do like this story, and I'm glad to see you getting some pretty decent recognition for it!

I find this a worthy successor to my story, and the 1st-person thing does work for you. Keep it up! I've noticed that the posting dates are starting to get further apart though... You might be loosing Grim because you're slipping!

[kadh2000]

You know, I finally remember this.

[Grim Reaper]

though... You might be loosing Grim because you're slipping!

Well... If he keeps this up and let's the Klingons win, I might stay

[Scottish Andy]

Hey all, sorry for the long wait inbetween posts, work got kinda busy there :-)

Without further ado, here's the next part.

Chapter Nine

I look out of the porthole in my quarters, watching the strange starbow effect of warp speed. It isn't what is actually out there, but since few people other than Vulcans and Medusans can look at pure, unfiltered subspace without feeling ill, the computer projects a less unnerving representation. It helps calm my frenzied thoughts.

We had been en-route for six hours to Starbase 22 to be made part of a hunter-killer task force when Admiral Grakan had replied to our last transmission. He understood what had happened and agreed with Karen's decision to escape, but he didn't want a Starfleet ship running from the action. We have been re-routed to meet with a heavy cruiser and a destroyer with all three of us coming from different border sections and thus having different ETA's. That was three hours ago. We are still only half-way to the rendezvous point, maintaining our distance from the border.

All this helps explain why I'm looking out of the porthole of my cabin at just after midnight in the middle of a supposed sleep cycle. There are other Klingon units out there, singly or in groups, and we could come across them at any time. A lone frigate will not do well against a cruiser.

I can't sleep. Before, it was because I couldn't escape my own private war. Now it was because a far bigger war could jump out and gobble us up before we could do anything about it. I would feel better once we had a companion, and probably not before it.

It's just about the only good thing to come out of this situation, but I'm finally putting the Jugurtha Incident 'to bed', as it were. Every day I would patch up that wound as best I could, and every night--hell, several times every night--my dreams would rip it open again. With the weight of everything else pressing down on me and with the aid of the Doc's wonder drug, my beleaguered mind is finally gaining some distance from my injury. I'm no longer reliving it, and indeed spend many hours not even thinking about it. I'm beginning to think that my blazing anger at Karen cauterized the wound, and since the Doc's drug is allowing me to keep it closed the damn thing might finally be healing.

I can only hope.

These thoughts have been circling uselessly around in my head for hours, just as I uselessly circle my abandoned bed. I had donned my gold Command uniform again, reasoning that if I wasn't sleeping I might as well be ready for duty.

Despite all these thoughts and 'being prepared'-style actions, I nonetheless nearly jump out of my skin when the Red Alert siren begins whooping. I am very glad I remained in my quarters instead of being somewhere public. Not exactly confidence-inspiring when the ship's second-in-command is seen to have a panic attack when the bell dings as the meal tray arrives...

Taking just enough time to recollect my wits, I charge out of my room and head to the bridge.

Arriving there, I see the night-shift staff updating Karen. I come in to hear Third Officer M`Gora saying, "...then it showed up on our screens. I altered course to remain outside his sensor range but keep him in ours, as per your orders."

She pauses there, looking for her captain's approval. Karen nods and gestures for her to continue.

"Sensors show it to be a Klingon F5-class frigate. We are too far away to determine what variant it is, but it seems to be alone. I have drawn up a plan of attack, ready to implement subject to your approval, Captain."

I can hear the eagerness in her voice, and it worries me. I know that practically the entire crew is eager to get into the war again and repay the Klingons for the loss of Kusanagi's two sisters, but we are under orders to meet up with the other ships.

I turn to her to say as much, but she is already considering M`Gora's proposal. My words die unspoken as she says, "Let me see your plan, Lieutenant."

M`Gora's eyes gleam as she hands a electronic clipboard to Karen. "Here it is, sir. If you will just look at..."

The third officer's words fade as I consider my position. As first officer, it is my duty to provide the captain with a competent crew, a functional ship and options or alternatives to plans or proposals made. I also think, however, that reminding the captain of data she already has is pointless and could be taken badly. I am likely to be labelled a coward or rule-quoter for trying to dissuade her from attacking, or cause a resurgence of the animosity between us that has--for the moment--abated.

It takes a few seconds, but I suddenly realise: This is not how I should be doing my duty.

I examine my thoughts of a few seconds ago and become utterly horrified. Am I going to allow the ship and mission to become endangered and direct orders from an admiral go ignored? Just to stay on my captain's good side? If that is the case, then I might as well resign and Karen can replace me with a trained parrot!

M`Gora is still going over her plan of attack, but I'm barely paying attention. I am far too busy being completely and utterly furious with myself. What was up with me that I let this happen? And why the hell have I been avoiding her since the battle in the hope that if she doesn't see me she won't get mad at me?!?!

I tune back in to hear M`Gora wrapping up her plan. I've decided. I am not going to let Karen or M'Gora--or anyone else on this damned ship--screw up our admiral's counter-strike by getting us blown to hell.
My fear at the repercussions is still very real and very large, but my anger is so powerful that I no longer care. Not about what people think of me, not if I'll remain on this ship after this mission--and I don't give a rat's arse about the feelings and opinions of my friend the Captain. Since that night in my quarters when she threw my trust back in my face, I've been trying to explain to her why she is wrong to think that way, and feeling hurt by what she did.

No more.

Karen is about to comment on M`Gora's plan. I speak first.

"Captain, we are needed elsewhere. If we take the time to engage this Klingon we could be damaged or even destroyed. The Androcus and Kublai will be left to face the enemy alone."

Karen's gaze switches to me and her eyes harden. "Mr. Brown, step up-deck with me a moment." Facing M`Gora, she orders, "Maintain distance for now, Lieutenant."

"Aye-aye, sir." The Andorian gives me a disparaging look before turning to her task.

I step onto the upper bridge walkway next to the turbolift alcove, with Karen on my heels. Not giving me a chance to speak further, she quietly rails at me.

"Mr. Brown, we are at war and we have located an enemy vessel we can handle one-on-one. I am confident that this ship and crew can take them out and still make the rendezvous. We could even signal the other ships to meet us here. I know we are under orders, but the delay is minimal and we could easily make the rendezvous inside the Kublai's ETA."

"Captain, I know that our ETA is flexible, but that is not the point. The point," I stressed angrily, "is that we are to be part of a task force that is part of a plan to halt the Klingon advance. This is no time to indulge in some reckless glory-seeking!"

"Glory-seeking? Is that what you think this is about?"

Our argument is threatening to become a shouting match on the bridge. I decide to end it with an ultimatum, but Karen speaks up first.

"Do you think I care the slightest bit about so-called 'glory'?"

"So what is it about? Revenge? I know you hate the Klingons, Captain, but it is not the time to exact your revenge for the Jugurtha Incident, or for the loss of our sister ships. It is never the time for revenge, however much we may want it."

"Don't you hate them too? They took your arm, gave you three months' worth of sleepless nights--"

"Don't you DARE!" I hissed. It took a supreme effort of willpower not to scream the words. Karen actually leans back, away from the fury in my eyes.
"Captain, sir, with all due respect, you have lost the right to delve into my personal pain for your own gain. You lost it when you threw my trust back in my face and wouldn't give me the chance to defend myself against you. That topic is now closed." I pause there, breathing heavily, but push one last thought out.

"So I congratulate you, Captain. Thanks to you, I have managed 'get over it' and 'let it go' as you suggested. But it will be up to you to determine the cost, if it was worth it. Your personal opinions of and reasons for that night no longer hold any interest for me."

"Mr. Brown, that is enough!" Karen's eyes are alight with an anger to match my own. "Carry on like that again, and I will have you relieved of duty!"

I'm thinking, If she wants a knock-down, drag-out shouting match, she's got it!
But I reign myself in. I cannot win my point if I am locked up in the loony bin awaiting 'psychiatric assessment'.

"Yes sir! I... apologise... for my unprofessional conduct in this matter. It will not happen again."

"Very well, Lieutenant," she says, but I sense she doesn't believe me. Trying to get us back on track, she asks, "What of the matter at hand? Will you support me in attacking the enemy?"

"Sir, I will stand against you on this matter, for the record. If we are damaged too badly to join the task force--and all it takes is one good hit from that F5--you will have disobeyed direct orders and delayed or aborted a vital counter-strike. I will not let you do that, unless you wish to place me in the brig."

There. My ultimatum finally made it out, but will she call me? I'd like to think I'm not bluffing.

"That will not be necessary, Lieutenant Brown. Your comments--however they were phrased--have their own merit and are... reluctantly... accepted."

That did it. I have my personal victory, but this may just be the second battle of a long war of wills between us. McCafferty's eyes hold a fury surpassing my own at her will--and possibly her revenge--being thwarted. She turns her back on me and issues orders to the bridge crew. This action is both symbolic and probably indicative of our future relations.

"Stand down from Red Alert, go to Yellow. Navigator, plot a course from our current position to the rendezvous coordinates and update me on our ETA. Helm, pull us away from the Klingon and make sure he doesn't notice us, then engage on the new course at cruise velocity."

The "Aye-aye's" echo back, and without turning McCafferty addresses me.

"Mr. Brown, there is no need for you to be up at this hour any longer. You should go below and try to get some sleep, you are looking tired."

Her voice carries a tone of brittle politeness, feigned interest in my well being. It is almost as much of a dismissal as when she did it the morning after our little 'incident'. Even the bridge crew seems to notice as several of them shift uncomfortably in their seats, although no one looks around.

I reply in the same tone. "Thank you for your concern, Captain. It is the middle of the night for me, after all. I think I will go back to bed."

I turn to Senior Chief Atar at the communications station and say, "Log me back off-duty please, Chief."

"Yes sir," is his sole response.

"Good night, all," I say to the bridge at large in a genial voice as I step into the turbolift. The doors close on a silent bridge and any pretence at a good mood instantly drops away. I finally make it back into my quarters and sit on my bed, although I couldn't feel less like sleeping if I tried.

The anger that finally drove me to stand up for my beliefs and myself has not abated. I thought I was angry before, but I sense that it is nothing compared to what I feel building within me now. I am still reviling myself for being such a spineless weakling, but not just for this incident, oh no. My whole sorry life is flashing before me.

Every embarrassing moment, every time I have let other people run roughshod over me and my feelings, every time I have folded instead of standing up for myself, my actions, others I have thought were right. All these and more are detailed in the perfectly clear memories always reserved, not for our most treasured and tender moments, but the most personally demeaning ones.

It is truly sickening.

It repulses me to the point of throwing up, but I'm just holding on.

It is also something of a revelation.

NO MORE!!!

The words echo around inside my head. It's so loud I'm surprised the crew of the departing Klingon ship doesn't hear it, never mind the people I share this vessel with.

This is not to say that I am suffused with a sudden feeling of empowerment that enables me to throw off my emotional straightjacket.

Oh no.

It has just made me really, royally pissed off at everyone who has ever put me in such a situation--and at myself for letting them put me there.

I make a personal vow right here, right now: No more! No more will my true feelings go unheard. No more will my whiny voice be heard alone in my quarters, moaning about what I could have or should have done.

From this day on, a new, improved Andrew Brown will make his presence felt wherever he is, instead of choosing the path of least resistance.

McCafferty had better watch out.

[Grim Reaper]

It has just made me really, royally pissed off at everyone who has ever put me in such a situation--and at myself for letting them put me there.

I make a personal vow right here, right now: No more! No more will my true feelings go unheard. No more will my whiny voice be heard alone in my quarters, moaning about what I could have or should have done.

From this day on, a new, improved Andrew Brown will make his presence felt wherever he is, instead of choosing the path of least resistance.

McCafferty had better watch out.

And so should he. Right is right, but danger lies in the wait iin that direction. Plus it won't make him very popular. At least, not at first

[Jaeih t`Radaik]

Oh-oh... Somebody went and made a Scot mad! *grin*

[kadh2000]

I think we've reached the point of a conflict between two unlikeable and unsympathetic characters.

[Governor Ronjar]

Damn, I wish I had more reading time. But doo know, I AM reading!

[Scottish Andy]

Another ouchie from Kadh. And I thought I was doing so well! I thought I was writing believable characters that could be identified with and have something you could sympathise with. 

Ah well, at least people are still reading it.

Chapter Ten

First Officer's Log, 21st October 2267, Stardate 3200.83

Our ETA at the rendezvous was 30 minutes later thanks to our unscheduled 'diversion', but we still managed to arrive before the other ships so no harm came because of it. The Constitution-class heavy cruiser USS Androcus arrived a bare ten minutes later, and the Saladin-class destroyer USS Kublai 35 minutes after that.
Greetings were perfunctory and we got underway less than an hour after our arrival. Apparently, speed is of the utmost priority here, bearing out my own position.

However, Captain Tareel on the Androcus has since informed us that due to changing situations and priorities, we are now going back the way we came to engage the same E4 squadrons that we fought earlier. They are penetrating deeper into Federation space and may have been reinforced, so we are updating the other two ships on their tactics and skill at performing them.

I am far more confident this time that we will win. Even if the Klingons have been brought back up to strength we now have firepower equivalent to five frigates mounted on stronger ships with more power. Having the Androcus with us should surely bring us victory.


Personal Log, supplemental

Good news on the home front, in that McCafferty has ceased her attacks on my character and performance since our last confrontation on the bridge. She has been civil to me, but I can still sense her hostility. Maybe she thinks I now hold some threat over her head, having been proven correct that any delay was unacceptable. Whatever the reason, I am feeling better about my position here for the moment. How long that feeling lasts remains to be seen.

We are expecting to intercept the Klingons within the hour. I am getting nervous about facing the same Klingons who beat us so decisively earlier on, but I am sure I can handle the stress.

*****

"Captain, six Klingon ships are now entering sensor range," Lieutenant Enax calls out.

A ripple of nervousness goes around the bridge crew at the similarity of his words to those he uttered less than 24 hours ago. Enax seems unaffected by it, however.

"Can we tell what they are yet?" McCafferty asks.

"Force composition seems to be four E4-class escorts and two F5-class frigates, sir."

At this, McCafferty's head snaps round to face me and I am impaled by a look of pure venom. I had opened my mouth to exclaim, but I decide against it. I close my mouth, having said nothing.

McCafferty seems to take this as some kind of victory, as she almost sneers at me before returning her attention to the screen.

"Salok, you are our resident probability generator. Can you tell me the odds that one of those F5's is the one we let go?" McCafferty asks our Vulcan navigator.

Salok does not even turn round but replies, "Based on current information, on the order of 79%. The Klingon frigate we encountered was heading back to Klingon lines when we intercepted it, and could easily have been diverted to this group. However, without knowing what other ships were in the area during our time here, that number could be incorrect. Reinforcements from behind--"

"Really." McCafferty interrupts, her voice a flat monotone. "Thank you, Salok," she adds, having got what she wanted from him.

Not wanting the bridge crew to ponder the ramifications of McCafferty's insinuations, I order, "Status report on the Klingon vessels, Lieutenant Maknal."

The Centauran helmsman begins his brief, not taking his eyes from his controls. "Sir, the F5's are being used as squadron leaders for each three-ship formation. They are executing the same approach pattern we saw in our last battle.
"Captain Tareel designates portside F5 target K1, starboard F5 designated target K4, the portside E4s as targets K2 and K5, starboard E4s as targets K3 and K6. Bearing 344 mark 003 to first enemy squadron. Bearing 357 mark 359 to the second enemy squadron. Distance to targets: approximately 200,000km, all closing at three-quarter impulse, with level two ECM."

"Very good. Current squadron status?" I ask.

"We are running at one-fifth impulse to allow the Kublai to charge all weapons. Squadron is operating level two ECM and we all have one decoy shuttle prepared. Androcus is charging a second one as we speak," Ensign Salok replies.

"Captain, orders coming in from the Androcus," Lathena reported.

"On speakers, Lieutenant."

"Speakers, aye, sir."

"This is Captain Tareel on the Androcus. Once Kublai has charged photons, set speed to one-third impulse, maintain level two ECM. Our first target is K2. We will wait until he presents a weaker rear shield, alter our EW to two ECCM and engage with proximity photons and main phasers. Kublai, you will hold standard torpedoes, both to give us manoeuvring speed and as a deterrent to a straight-in run from the Klingons. Be prepared to dump EW and activate tractors for drone defense."

This does not increase my confidence any, hearing almost exactly the same orders and enemy tactics as in our first battle. It didn't work for us then, why should it work now?

"Range, 170,000km. Enemy switching from two ECM to two ECCM."

I can't believe this. History is repeating itself, almost word-for-word! I feel oddly detached from it all, as if I know how it will end and so I'm not as interested in it this time round.

"Klingons opening fire! Range 150,000km. All enemy vessels targeting the Androcus, disruptors only. Exactly like last time!" Urrih Maknal blurts. So, I'm not the only one who notices.

"Belay that, Mister!" McCafferty growls at him.

"Aye, sir," a chastised Urrih replies. "Both Klingon squadrons breaking again. K1 squadron going left, K4 squadron going right, trying to split our fire. EW changing back to two ECM."

"Distance closing to 133,000km."

"Prepare to open fire on Captain Tareel's command..." McCafferty warns.

"Fire as specified!" Tareel's voice shouts over the speakers.

The viewscreen really lights up as fifteen phasers and six photons reach out towards the enemy. The effect is instantly visible, as the small Klingon ship bucks violently and starts to fall behind its companions. Lots of plasma- and atmosphere-venting confuse the sensor picture momentarily, and when it clears we are confronted by six drones heading for us. The crippled E4 must have launched a scatter-pack shuttle.

Well, headed for the Androcus, actually, but we are now on drone defense duty.

The drones close quickly, and both our defensive phasers hit out, killing a drone each. Then our tractors activate, as do those of the Androcus, snagging two drones apiece. The Androcus begins to rotate the drones behind her, but a call of "Shuttle launch from target K4!" prompts a decision change.

"Kusanagi, prepare to drop your tractors. All ships, slow to one-sixth impulse. I'm going to launch a decoy," Tareel announces.

"Just give the word, Captain. Slowing to one-sixth," McCafferty responds.

The Deltan captain has guts, I can definitely give him that. He waits until the last moment, possibly trying to get the Klingons to sucker-launch more drones, but no more appear. The modified shuttlecraft silently leaves the cruiser's hanger bay, at the same time her tractors cut out. Seeing this, we release our own. Ten drones sail past our strongest ship and utterly destroy a seven-meter-long shuttle.

"Alright!" someone whoops. I'm not sure on whose bridge they are, because of the three-way open comm. link, but the sentiment is shared by all. Maybe we will prevail!

I want to know more. My main fault, I suppose. "Status of Androcus?" I ask quietly of Enax.

"The disruptor attack reduced the cruiser's forward shield to 77% and holding. No other damage, as she used reserve power to boost her ECM to level three. This reduction in speed has allowed level six ECM and more forward shield reinforcement. The Klingons shouldn't be able to touch her at all this round."

I grin at him and ask, "Status of K2?"

"Dead in space, Sir, and tumbling in the z-axis. Warp and impulse engines destroyed, all weapons dead. It's a crippled hulk and sensors show it is loosing antimatter containment." Enax looks up from his scope and added, "I'm only surprised that it did not explode straight away."

I clap his shoulder lightly and nod at him. "Very good, Enax. Thank you."

He smiles and returns to his scanners.

"Captain, the Klingons are making another run at us." The voice came from the speakers, but it was joined by Maknal's.

"Confirmed, sir. Still coming in on separate vectors, no attempt to help K2." He sounded outraged at this, even after direct Klingon experience during the Jugurtha Incident.

"Captain Tareel, Klingons are approaching. 165,000km distance, targeting us."

"Kublai, I want you to hold your fire. I don't want to go wasting shuttles as the numbers say the Klingons will outlast us. If the Klingons launch a second salvo this time, you are to knock them out. Kusanagi and I will do the tractor dance with the first salvo. Understood?"

"Understood, Captain Tareel," replies Commander O'Neill on the Kublai.

"Understood, Sir," our own Lieutenant Commander McCafferty answers.

"Our target for this turn is K1. I want to bring his forward starboard shield down, which should make him more circumspect about frontal attacks. Kusanagi, target his number two shield and await my command."

"Aye-aye, Sir," McCafferty replies again.

"Klingons firing, Captain! Range 148,000km." A pause. "No damage! The shield reinforcement absorbed it all."

"Excellent." I am beginning to recognise Tareel's voice. "Open fire!"

Kusanagi and Androcus spit out nine brilliant blue phaser beams that smash into the number two shield of one F5 before it turns away from us, then a cloud of drones appear on our sensors.

"Five drones, inbound on Androcus at half impulse," Ensign Salok reports.

"Defensive tractors, Kusanagi!" Tareel reminds us, as if we'd forget.

Our defensive phasers impale two drones as the tractors of both our ships grab the other three, just as another scatter-pack shuttle is launched.

"How many of these bloody things do they have?" I all but snarl. "It's like fighting the Mira`Kzinti, from what I've heard!"

No one replies.

Six more drones bloom from a shuttle now melted to scrag in their fusion exhaust and the Kublai takes up the challenge, destroying each drone with pinpoint accuracy and in plenty of time. The Klingons circle round again, but our torpedoes are almost ready. Then it's payback time.

But something is wrong...

"Range, 150,000km. Klingons holding their fire, attack vectors unchanged!"

Now, we all knew what that meant. Because of the superb fire-control systems the Klingons had for their disruptors, they could do the same amount of damage at 150,000km as they could at 40,000km. Therefore, the Klingons had an 'attack barrier' of 150,000km distance from their target. If they were still coming in past that barrier it meant they had changed tactics and were intending to get in really close. This could get very bad for us if it wasn't handled properly.

"All ships, switch torpedoes to normal fuses!" Tareel orders. "Kublai, I want you to attack and if possible destroy target K3. I want it completely out of the fight. Kusanagi, we will do the same for target K4. I want a dead F5 and E4 after this run, people."

"Aye-aye, Captain," replies O'Neill.

"Acknowledged with pleasure, Sir." McCafferty's voice is very cold.

"Belay that talk, Commander McCafferty!" Tareel's voice is sharp. "This is no time for personal vendettas!"

McCafferty's face is a mask of stone as she answers, "Aye-aye, Captain Tareel, Sir!"

Choosing to ignore her obvious sarcasm, the Deltan instructs, "If they are closing to inside 40,000km, then we shall fire when they get inside 50,000km. Just in case they don't do as we expect, be prepared to fire on my order at any moment. Also, stand ready to assist in drone defense or launch decoy shuttles."

"Drone launch! Klingon ships dropping to half impulse, apparently pacing their drones in." Enax calls out. "Range now 100,000km."

"Confirmed, also note that all drones seem to be targeted on Kusanagi," the Androcus' science officer adds. The heavy cruiser's superior lab facilities determined this faster than our own.

"We can take care of them with a little help from Androcus, Captain, " Lieutenant Maknal speaks up. "We shouldn't complicate Kublai's power curve more than it already is."

"Agreed, Kusanagi." Tareel replies.

"Klingons passing 80,000km and closing, half impulse, no EW, no shield reinforcement."

Urrih is certainly on the ball today. That he reports this extra data means he is troubled by something. Come to think of it, it's bothering me too. What is it...?

"Reading overload-level disruptor energy on all ships! They're making a run on the Androcus!" Maknal's voice is filled with horror at what damage that amount of firepower can do.

"Captain Tareel, you--"

"I know, we can see it too. After we fire, I'm shutting everything down and pouring all our energy into the facing shield. May Kolkar protect us all. Be prepared for emergency rescue operations on my ship. I'm beaming some off now. Lower your facing rear shield. Save as many of my crew as possible, Commanders."

"Aye Sir," McCafferty all but whispers. O'Neill acknowledges too.

"Transporter room, lock onto coordinates Lt. Lathena will be sending you and prepare to beam crew off the Androcus," I order. Lathena relays the data given to her by the cruiser's comm. officer.

"Klingons passing 50,000km, setting level two ECCM, slowing to two-sevenths' impulse." The Androcus' weapons officer is subdued.

"You know your targets. Open fire!!" Tareel commands.

[Scottish Andy]

And now, part one of the thrilling conclusion to this epic tale! Don't touch that dial!

Chapter Eleven

All our weaponry lashes out, trying to lower the odds facing the certainly doomed heavy cruiser, as simultaneously 30 Androcus crewmembers are transported to the Kusanagi and 40 are transported to the Kublai.

Our bridge crew cheer as two enemy ships break apart spectacularly, with nacelles, booms and various hull pieces spinning off into the freezing Void, propelled by the force of exploding warp reactors. This causes the viewscreen filters to automatically dampen down the glare, and we can see that the Klingon formations are shredded, their remaining ships damaged by the destruction of their companions--but still they come on.

The Androcus comes to a complete halt and sets level six ECM. The Kusanagi's defences come alive, snaring and killing four enemy drones, the Kublai snags the fifth and we take no damage.
Tareel's tactics are good and they've diminished the Klingon firepower by perhaps a third, but is it enough to save his ship? We see the forward shield firm up to 200% of its normal strength with the full power of the warp engines behind it, and find hope in the action. But we cannot celebrate. Not yet.

The Klingons fire at the Androcus from 11,000km.

Their overloaded disruptors and weaker main phasers smash through the shield and its reinforcement, and start chewing at the bare duranium hull. It's horrible to watch, but none of us can look away--or do anything about it.

The beautiful ivory hull is scored by phaser-fire, blackened by disruptors pounding into--and through!--it. A torrent of green fire washes over the entire ship, ruining everything it touches.

And then it is over.

The Klingons drop their ECCM, pick up speed and fly past us, off to starboard, while we wait helplessly as our weapons recharge.

The heavy cruiser is still there. Barely.

But she is dead.

Lifeless.

No energy runs through her.

No lights adorn her.

The comm. station suddenly starts bleeping as the dead cruiser's automatic disaster beacon activates and screams it's tale of woe through the cold, unfeeling Void.

It seems everybody on the bridge jumps when McCafferty booms, "Snap out of it! We are still in danger and there is nothing we can do for them."

The words stick in my throat, but I push them out. "S-Sir, request permission to--"

"Denied. You're not going over there. We will continue to beam over any survivors, but not if it endangers my ship, Lieutenant."

I heard the steel in her voice and want to object, but I know she is right. We have to make sure we survive, or the cruiser's crew will just be beaming from one coffin to another.

"Aye, Sir." I look over at our status boards and update the Captain, "Phasers recharged in 30 seconds, photons in one minute 30, and it looks similar for the Kublai." I turn back to her and say, "Captain, I suggest we both move to 25,000km from the Androcus. The Klingons may try to damage us by finishing her off, but we will still be in transporter range for rescue ops."

"Agreed. Lathena," she addresses the Andorian, "hail the destroyer and advise them we are moving off and suggest they join us."

"Yes, Captain."

"Helm, move us away, follow the Klingons."

"Aye, Sir."

"Captain, I have Commander O'Neill on the channel. He wants to coordinate our next response," Lathena informs her.

"Put him on, audio only. I want to keep track of the Klingons."

"Aye, Sir." To O'Neill, "You are on, Commander."

"Lt. Cdr. McCafferty, with no response from the Androcus, I hereby take command of this mission. That said, due to your experience in this area I am open to any suggestions you may make. As it is, what do you think they will do next?"

McCafferty's mouth had set into a hard line at O'Neill's first words, but opened in surprise as he continued. Taking a few moments to collect her thoughts, she replies.

"Sir, with the Androcus out of the fight, both of us moving out of her explosion radius and taking into account your ship's poorer power curve, I think they will stay close and keep their speed high. They can dance around us and avoid our heavy weapons arcs while keeping us in theirs."

"Yes, that matches our analysis. Only makes sense, I suppose. What do you think we should do about it?"

McCafferty shrugs her shoulders--which O'Neill cannot see--and says, "You could always shut down two or all of your photon tubes and increase speed. They will probably match it, but it will put a strain on their resources and make us more manoeuvrable."

O'Neill stays silent for a few seconds before replying, "I don't like the idea of ignoring our heavy weapons," he says slowly, "but they really are of no use to us if we cannot get the enemy in arc so we can fire the damn things. Very well, that's what we'll do."

The timbre of his voice alters, and he is speaking to his own bridge crew. "Weapons, shut down tubes C and D, charge A and B at standard yield. Sensors, set level two ECM. Navigator, predict where the Klingons will begin another attack run and plot an intercept course to that point. Helm, engage on that course at two-sevenths' impulse. Kusanagi," he addressed us, "stay on our wing against the main threat axis and be ready to defend us from drone attack."

"Acknowledged, Commander. What will our target be?" McCafferty asks.

"We need to even the odds, so I want another enemy ship crippled and out of the fight. That means an E4. What enemy ships still have shuttles aboard, Lieutenant?" O'Neill asks of his science officer.

"Sir, targets K2, K4 and K6 have all launched scatter-pack shuttles, and targets K2, K3 and K4 have been destroyed. That leaves K1 and K5 with shuttles."

"Very well. Commander McCafferty, I designate target K5. We will rely on our decoy shuttles to protect us for this round."

"Aye-aye, Sir," McCafferty replies. "Suggest setting level one tractor repel, Sir, so that we can still launch shuttles if the need arises."

"Good idea. Engage level one tractor repel, Ensign," O'Neill orders his weapons officer.

"Klingons coming round again, Sir! Lining up an attack run bearing 051 mark 006. They are out of torpedo arc, Captain."

"Irrelevant, our torpedoes are only half armed. Turn to face them head on. I want all our phasers in arc."

"Klingons closing to 55,000km sir. We will not be able to make the turn in time," our own Lieutenant Maknal warns. "Weapons back online... now!"

"Fire all weapons that bear!" Commander O'Neill orders.

Again, six bright blue beams lash out at our tormentors, just as they unleash vivid green and blue fire of their own. I watch as the targeted E4's number six shield flares, then collapses. Atmosphere, debris, and engine plasma vent from it.

Over the inter-ship channel to Kublai I hear, "Captain, our number two shield is down and we've sustained minor internal damage."

"Specify," came a voice I hadn't heard yet, possibly the destroyer's first officer. The reply was drowned out by an Intruder Alert klaxon grating to life.

"We're being boarded!" came an urgent shout. From the security station, maybe?

"Trace their location! Give me that damage report!" O'Neill's voice snapped out.

"Extensive damage to crew quarters, one impulse reactor and phaser port six offline, Captain," the destroyer's comm. officer stated. Then, more urgently, "Sir, shuttlebay reports four Klingon Marine squads are attacking them and they need reinforcements!"

The realisation struck several of us at once. "They're going to swarm the Kublai!" I blurted out in horror, while my mind screamed at me not AGAIN!!

McCafferty's voice cuts through the babble, icy calm and in total control. "Belay that, Mister Brown. We need level heads here, not alarmist exclamations!"

I turn and shoot her a look that should have dented a bulkhead, but she is already speaking down the intercom.

"Security, this is the Captain. Prepare teams to board the Kublai and help them fight off four Klingon boarding parties. Do it now."

"Aye-aye, Captain," came the reply. I also hear what must be our defensive phasers swatting the drones our tractors are still holding from the last attack. The shrill scream of our phasers is unmistakable.

"Captain O'Neill, I've lost contact with our crew in the shuttlebay. They no longer respond."

A rather nasty oath in the Orion Trader's Tongue escapes from the destroyer captain's lips at that. A worse one emerges following his engineer's report.

"Sir, shuttlebay control systems just went offline. We cannot launch shuttles until they are repaired."

Lieutenant Maknal calls out, "Shuttle launch! Targets K1 and K5 both launching a shuttle each, inbound at one quarter impulse."

"Scatterpacks! Kublai's a goner!" I blurt, again. "Twelve more drones! We can deal with two of them, the destroyer can take another two, but that still leaves eight to impact on them unless we can unmask our port phasers."

"Damnit, Mr. Brown, that is enough! Any more defeatist talk like that and you will be relieved of duty! If you have nothing positive to contribute then stay silent!"

My ears burn and I feel my face flush red at her rebuke, but I cannot call her on it. She is actually right, and the less experienced staff don't need to hear the kind of morose crap I'm spouting.

Hell, both contingents of this ship's crew have been through defeat at the hands of the Klingons, separately and together. The command staff's Jugurtha Betrayal. The Kusanagi crew's loss of their own command staff. And our last battle with these very same E4 squadrons.

And here I am, the unceasing voice of depression. The Town Crier of Doom.

Idiot. The word in my head is all the more cruel and vicious for it's quiet, contemptuous tone.

I shake myself out of my reverie, and snap back into useful action. "Sir, I suggest that if the Klingons are beginning boarding actions, we post security squads at vital systems."

"Very good, Lieutenant." McCafferty's voice is almost as cruel as my own personal critic. "Do so!" She snaps.

I head over to the unmanned Engineering Sub-Systems Monitor Station as Ensign Salok--apparently oblivious to my dressing-down--calmly states, "Scatter-pack release. Twelve Type-IS drones targeted on the Kublai. Inbound at half impulse, impact in 30 seconds."

"Kublai has released a mine, but I don't think it will activate in time to destroy the drones," Urrih Maknal adds.

Lathena breaks in to the conversation with, "Captain, comm. link with the Kublai has been temporarily lost! Attempting to regain." I work at my secondary board, patching in a 'com channel to Security and ordering them to assign squads to our weapons and power systems.

"Main phasers coming back online in 30 seconds. Drone impact in 25 seconds. Portside phaser coming into arc now, Captain," Salok reports.

"Excellent! Target those drones and make sure you kill one. Fire!" McCafferty orders.

My job done, I turn and watch Salok's long fingers work his controls, but as he presses the firing toggle, he draws back suddenly and rapidly vacates his chair.

I stare at him and I'm about to ask what the hell he thinks he's doing--but the words don't make it past my lips. My eyes feel like they are trying to escape my head as I notice everyone working at a console practically launching themselves away from their stations, yelling in pain and fright.

Even McCafferty has done so.

"What the...?" I mutter, unheard in the general mêlée. I'm standing absolutely still on the upper bridge walkway as everyone around me dances away from their post.

"Captain, what's wrong?" I ask urgently, too shocked to be angry with her.

"My seat... the control panels on my seat... they... they just went instantly white hot!" She looks at me, straight in the eye.

"I don't understand," she says in a bewildered tone.

[Commander La'ra]

I honestly love the fight scenes in the story.  Only one cruiser in evidence and a horde of tiny ships you almost never see represented in fan fiction.