/_\The Final Battle/_\
-
- Three months after the invasion-
On board the U.S.S. Colmubia's Gate, Vice Admiral James Throne stared out the window of his ready room. The man walked over to his desk and sat down. "Computer, begin log entry." He requested. After the computer acknowledged, he began.
"Captain's personal log star date 91508.88...It's been three long months. The Iconians have finally been defeated. Command has asked me to send a small squadron from Task Force Whiskey 117 has been assigned to patrol the sectors surrounding the Dyson Sphere. -sigh- Loosing Tonha made me think a part of my soul was torn away. She was probably the closest person I knew on this ship." The Admiral paused as he thought back to when Tonha was in sickbay. "Seeing her body cold and lifeless was something I'd never forget. She sacrificed her self to save the Alpha Quadrant. " He resumed. James felt tears coming to him but he forced them back. " As of this star date the Colmubia's Gate will be receiving a new First Officer...Computer end log." The Admiral buried his face into the palms of his hands, and sighed heavily.
*****
Debri was everywhere as the Colmubia's Gate flew towards the Iconian dreadnought. Only a handful of KDF, Republic, and Federation ships, were left including the Enterprise-F and the Bortasqu'. The Emissary class cruiser fired a barrage of Quantum Torpedoes who aimed for the enemy dreadnought. Several of the torpedoes missed but then hit the surrounding targets. Shields flashed as they scored a direct hit destroying several ships.
"Report!" James shouted over the alarm.
The Operations officer spoke first." Captain,three Iconian frigates have been destroyed. But the dreadnought's shields are still holding."
"Helm bring us around for another pass." Throne ordered.
"Aye sir!" The Jem'Hadar replied, as his fingers tapped the console.
The ship banked sharp to the left while firing her tetryon beams in all directions.
"Renuzia, try and take their engines offline. Oliver reverse shield polarity! Take off some of that damage." The officers acknowledged. James tapped a button on his chair and opened a comm. "Throne to away team, status report. Tonha what's the situation?" A female voice came through. "Jackson and Roberts are down sir. It's just me and Chief Uvar." Her voice was shaky.
"Our transporters are badly damaged. We'll only be able to transport one of you."
Another voice interrupted. "Admiral I've just received word that the Enterprise has been hit on their starboard nacelle. Their venting plasma!" Renuzia noted.
"Dammit!" Throne cried. "Tell cruisers echo through gamma to head over to their location."
On the dreadnought First Officer Tonha Ke'sath and Chief Engineer Uvar Noreen fought their way into the Engineering room. The two women finally made it in. Uvar tapped her badge.
"Captain we're in."
"Is the bomb ready Chief?"
"Yes, but sir we have a problem." She replied.
"Go ahead?"
"She took some damage on our way in. The timers fried so I'll have to fire it manually."
The Admiral sighed. "Is there another way Chief?" He asked.
"No sir, I'm afraid there isn't."
"Alright then. Detonate the bomb and get the hell outa there!" Ordered the Vice admiral.
"Yes sir! Chief out." The Bajoran shook her head.
"I'll do it." Tonha said as she moved towards the Engineer.
"Are you sure? Because as soon as it goes off-" the chief was cut off.
"I know the risk. Now go to the EVAC site. Save your self." Tonha's voice was sharp.
The young Bajoran didn't move at first. But as she turned she said "good luck". Tonha gave her a slight nod and returned to arming the device. When Uvar arrived at the EVAC site she tapped her badge.
"Uvar to Colmubia's Gate, one to beam up."
Meanwhile Tonha set the delay to one minute. She decided it was time to say her goody byes. "James..." She said as she tapped her badge one last time. "I remember that question you asked me before the war began." The bridge was silent as Tonha spoke. You are a strong-willed being who never gives up hope. Ever since the academy I knew we'd make the best team."
Oliver interrupted in a soft voice "Sir the dreadnought's core is breaching." James noticed the rest of the allied fleet moving away to a safe distance as he sat in silence. "And James." Tonha said softly. "Yes Tonha?" He asked griping the arms of his chair.
"I love yo-" The channel was cut off when an explosion ripped the dreadnought apart.
****
Star date 91058.90
---
A chime beeped as James woke up. Looks like I fell asleep again..he thought. "Enter"
A young women walked into the ready room. Her hair was the same color as her uniform. Due to the deregulation of star fleet uniforms, the Admiral decided to have the crew wear the Task Force Whiskey green uniforms. "Commander Liza Thompson reporting for duty sir." She stated.
"Welcome aboard number one. Since you are now apart of the Colmubia's Gate, you're also a member of Task Force Whiskey 117." James replied.
The Commander spoke up. "I understand that sir. Also I heard that you were promoted to second in command of the Task Force. Congratulations...if it's not to late." James nodded his head and rose from the chair. Throne put his hand on her shoulder. "If you don't mind Commander, I'd like to give you a tour of the ship." Liza replied. "That would be splendid Admiral." "Good, then we can use this as a chance to get to know one another." James said. The First Officer smiled as James lead her out of the Ready Room. Outside work bees swarmed the Colmubia's Gate as engineers as they were refitting the old Star Cruiser. Utopia Planitia was busier than ever...
Vice Admiral James Throne
U.S.S. Colmubia's Gate
NX-91004
Task Force Whiskey 117
Second in Command
My eyes were hopelessly trying to make out anything through the static on the viewscreen. Sure, I could see random swirls of colour, and maybe a crackle of lightning here and there, but even with the enhancements, sensors still couldn't give a clear picture when in the nebula.
So much for the vaunted advancements on the Ambassador-class.
Still, the Yorktown is mine...and faults and all, she's still a great ship.
"Trying," Sotek called back. He'd been at his post for the last ten or so hours, doing what Vulcan Science Officers do best: raise their eyebrow from time to time and dumb down the explanation enough for the captain to understand it.
A quiet cough from behind me caught my attention, and I rotated my seat to the right. The Orion freighter captain, now wearing a robe at the insistence of my Security Chief, shot me a pair of sad doe eyes. "Captain," she purred, "isn't there anything that you can do? My people need your help before the life support module shuts down." She flicked her black hair out of her eyes, and pouted. "I couldn't afford a Mark IV...they only have hours left on the itty bitty Mark II."
L'naa rolled her eyes from her station, shaking her head slowly from side to side. The Orion captain wasn't making many friends amongst my female staff, arrogantly strutting back and forth, cooing to each male crew member, and dumping so many pheromones in the air I had to have her escorted only by Deltans. L'naa pursed her lips, squinted her eyes a bit, and said coldly, "Maybe if you spent less on latinum bracelets you could have afforded at least a Mark III."
The Orion spun on a spike heel, crossing her arms and fixing L'naa with an icy glare. She was about to say something, but stopped short, and instead just gave a little grin. "Sorry, deary," she quietly said, batting her eyes. "They were out of stock."
Something didn't seem right about the Orion, but I waved it off for now. This was the first time she was civil to a female member of my crew instead of being catty. We picked her up in a small lifeboat a day ago, adrift just outside the Mutara Nebula. The lifeboat bore signs of plasma fire that targeted life support...the calling card of the pirates we've been hunting for the last month.
These unknown pirates were good...I'll give them that. They had some inside info...it was the only way they'd be able to make their hit and run attacks without Starfleet catching on and laying a trap. We had a small task force out looking for them, as they'd gone after a Ferengi trader who had connections to the Grand Nagus. Maybe one of us would get lucky.
I really hope so...as these pirates don't leave survivors. The Orion was the first.
Breep...breep...breep.
I looked over at Sotek, puzzled as to why a signal beacon was coming through clear when our sensors couldn't get a clear signal on anything, audio or visual. He shrugged, activating a detailed scanner that slowly rose up from his console. He bent over and peered into the scanner, slowly making adjustments via the console.
"Captain," he said, "it reads as a Romulan signal buoy, yet a secondary frequency is that of a Nausican Raider's primary sensor array. I'd recommend caution, and going to Yellow Alert."
The Orion squealed behind me, jumping up and down, letting her robe part at the front. "No! It's my ship! You've found them!" She made her way towards me, arms open for a big embrace, but the Deltan Security Officer stood in her way and simply shook his head, No.
"Captain," I said calmly, "you said your ship was a standard Type Zeph trader. If I'm not mistaken...that type is incompatible with Romulan technology."
L'naa spoke up, "You're not mistaken, Sir. The Gorn tachyon relays in the Zeph prevent any Romulan, Reman, or Cardassian transmitters to function without shorting out primary and secondary systems immediately."
The Orion tilted her head seductively, smiling towards me over the shoulder of the Deltan Security Officer. "Oh, my dear Captain," she whispered. "It is just a false transponder code. If you put resistors between a Scorpion fighter's ejector pod beacon and the Gorn tertiary relay, it won't burn out the couplings."
Sotek and L'naa exchanged a quick glance at each other, L'naa frowning. She called up schematics on her station and began to study them as Sotek downloaded the data he'd gathered from his station.
I turned away from the Orion, my head swimming. The Deltan had held up three fingers behind his back, indicating that the Orion was trying to distract me with her pheromones. "Commander," I called to Sotek, "could that work?"
"It might. But that is highly doubtful."
The Orion pouted again, stomping her foot like a child. "It does work! I did it myself! See? Here my ship is...you can see it now!"
I looked towards the viewscreen, and indeed, a gull-like ship appeared out of the blue waves of the nebula, all static gone. I guessed we were close enough for our sensors to get a clear image, or moved away from a pocket of interference. Either way, the Zeph floated towards us, trailing light green plasma from the left nacelle. She bore the scars of the pirate's plasma weaponry, the life support tower sheared away, and multiple lifeboat hatches twisted and melted into the hull plating.
"Oh no," the Orion said dramatically, "Captain...my crew couldn't get out! Please...without the life support tower, they must have lost atmosphere by now! Please pull them in!"
It was Sotek's turn to roll his eyes. "Sir, I read faint life signs, and minimal atmosphere. If they can detach their nacelles we can tractor them into Shuttlebay 2."
"No, please! Don't do that! I couldn't possibly afford new nacelle couplings! Can't you bring them into Shuttlebay 1?"
I looked at the screen closely, noting that if the Zeph had the life support tower, it wouldn't fit into the main shuttlebay, and with the nacelles in place, wouldn't fit in the aft shuttlebay.
I had a bad feeling about this.
Sotek did as well, and sent a message to my console. Confirm life signs aboard, some very faint. No weapons detected. We can pressurize the shuttlebay faster than we can beam the crew out, given the Zeph's fifteen transport inhibitors.
"Why exactly does your ship have multiple transport inhibitors, Captain?" I asked.
"Pirates, deary. You don't want them to just sneak up and beam your cargo off, do you? My shields aren't the best...but my inhibitors are."
I took a deep breath. "Commander, bring them in, slowly. There won't be more than a meter of vertical clearance. Pressurize the bay and get medical teams there."
Sotek didn't look pleased, but answered, "Aye, Sir. Tractor initiated...we have them."
Looking over to L'naa, I was going to ask for a status report, but noted that the Orion was grinning a bit too slyly.
A grin that was getting bigger as her ship entered the shuttlebay.
"Sotek, belay my last. Back that ship out now."
The Orion snarled out, "Oh, I don't think so." She stomped her other foot down, and a brilliant flash blinded everyone on the bridge as the bottom of the Zeph burst out like a phaser spinal lance.
The deck heaved forward as the inertial dampers struggled to keep us with the forces tearing the Yorktown apart. Incredibly, I heard the whir of a Klingon transporter, and turned to see the Orion Captain vanish in a stream of red matter, her left hand pressing the latinum bracelet on her right arm. The bridge was filling with gasses from ruptured conduits, and sparks flew from nearly every console.
"Damage repo--" I started to call out, but was interrupted by a blast from a plasma torpedo detonating against the hull. I was thrown to the deck, along with half the crew.
Sotek, as always, managed to stay upright. "Sensors are offline. We are blind!"
L'naa shouted over the howl of escaping gas, "No...that witch played us...stand by!" She pounded her console, as it wouldn't respond to the usual gentle tap, and the viewscreen cleared up instantly. "I ejected her lifeboat...it was jamming our sensors this entire time!" She hit her console again, then ran to one that wasn't smoking. "Onscreen now...incoming ships!"
Through the smoke I made out the angular lines of a Rigellian Freighter spitting out plasma fire from multiple turrets, and I could barely see the rounded nose of an Angosian Transport launching a spread of photon torpedoes.
"Brace for impact!" I shouted, cursing myself by allowing the Orion to con me. She did all the right things...played the victim, played out sympathy for the spacer down on their luck, and made us believe that her crew was in immediate peril.
Somehow, I don't think that's gonna help much at my court-martial.
By some miracle our shields took the impact of the photons, and I nervously looked at the Master Systems Display. The blast from the Zeph pierced straight down through the main shuttlebay entrance, ripped though our decks, and exited through the main deflector. If it was inside when it blew, the beam would have taken out our warp core, and we'd be particles. Alarms were blaring, and casualty reports were coming in from all decks. I couldn't make out any sense, so I motioned to Sotek to cut all comms so we could try and regain some control and attempt to get out of this alive.
"Audio muted!" Sotek shouted, and motioned towards the Conn and Ops positions, shaking his head sadly.
There wasn't any position left.
I cursed again, and sat down hard in my seat. Opening the panel on the right side, I yanked out the flight controller, as I didn't trust that touchscreens would be responding in the way I intended.
"What do we have left?" I shouted.
L'naa was at the MSD, using a tricorder to enter commands, as the console had melted into slag. "You have the saucer's ventral forward and port array, dorsal port array, belly array, and port lateral array." She squinted at the readings, adding, "three photons in the aft tube, reloader is offline."
Sotek called out, "Shields at thirty-three percent! Engineering can give you maneuvering thrusters only."
"Casualties?"
L'naa shook her head. "Do not worry about that now. Just get us out of here if you can."
Damn it.
"Hang on!"
I rocked the ship towards the Angosian Transport. If it still had torpedoes, it was the larger threat. The Yorktown was sluggish, turning too slowly to bring what little weapons I had to bear.
"I need quarter impulse at least!"
Sotek calmly said, "Not going to happen." He looked at the MSD, and quietly said, "Might be time to bail, brah."
I shook my head. "That's what's not going to happen. They don't leave survivors."
The deck heaved up again. "We take any more damage, we will not get a vote in the matter," L'naa said, without emotion.
"Boost power to the RCS, and all shields to port," I ordered. Sotek jumped back as his console erupted into sparks, but without a pause made his way to the Sciences II station, reconfiguring it for Engineering.
"Done."
Slamming the flight controller to starboard, the Yorktown responded a bit quicker, allowing the remaining phasers a chance to strike back. Orange beams lanced out towards the Angosian, but her shields took most of the hit.
Sotek shook his head again. "No effect. You have got to hit them with everything we have."
I yelled back at him, "That *was* everything!"
"Then it seems like this *is* a good day, after all."
L'naa yelled, "Shut up, you two! Just do your magic and get us out of this!"
I threw her a quick glance, enough to tell her she crossed a line, but went back to slamming the flight controller, hoping that it could somehow sense my desperation and give me just that much more. More phasers...more shields...more maneuverability.
More.
Just a little bit.
The Rigellian was trying to sneak into our weak starboard, so I rolled Yorktown 45 degrees in that direction, hoping that the saucer would take more of the relatively weak plasma turret fire. The Rigellian responded with an unrealistic burst of power, somehow coming abeam and hitting us where our main deflector once was. I heard a horrific shriek of duranium plating as a torpedo in the damaged forward tube detonated, ripping a hole in the neck that I thought would be the end of us.
Sotek looked at the MSD, comparing it to the reading at his station. "We pau, brah."
L'naa concurred, shrugging her shoulders to indicate there was nothing left to do.
I came to the sad realization that they were right. I swallowed, then ordered, "Set interlocks on the core to backflow. Just in case." I stood, looked up, and said, "Computer, begin auto-destruct sequence. Authorization Garret, two one, Omega Omicron."
Sotek took a step forward, and calmly said, "Computer, Commander Sotek. Confirm auto-destruct sequence. Authorization Omicron Mu three five seven."
L'naa took a step forward, and said with a smile, "Oh hell no. Not today, boys! Look!" she said, pointing at the screen.
Four flares stretched out from the edge of the nebula, compacting back into the familiar form of the ships in our task force.
At our starboard side, the Nova-class Valkyrie opened up with a gravity well, snaring the Angosian and Rigellian in a violet wave, as the Hope-class Mendeleev let loose with a spread of photons, her phasers firing at will, raking the hulls of both pirate vessels.
Off to our port, the Kaitain's nacelles lowered in position, and photons blasted from both tubes on the Intrepid-class' blended neck. She quickly moved between us and the pirates, extending her shields to keep us in one piece just a bit longer.
But what was more amazing was the sight of the pylons and nacelles of the Hypatia visibly bending under the stress of evasive maneuvers, bringing both fore and aft weapons to bear on her targets almost simultaneously.
I'm gonna have to ask Grunt how the hell he pulled that one off.
The pirate ships tried to mount a defense against this new threat, but were just outmatched. The Angosian signalled its surrender, but the Rigellian, in an act of defiance, started her own self-destruct sequence. Captain Palmer used tractor repulsors to shove the ship off a safe distance before she blew, but the shock wave that hit us still made the Yorktown screech in an alarming way. It didn't matter that L'naa didn't enter her self destruct authorization. The core was going critical, and there wasn't anything we could do to stop it.
Hitting the transmit button on my chair, I opened hailing frequencies shipwide, as well as short range so our rescuers would hear us. I grabbed the PADD strapped to my chair to ensure I went through the correct checklist for emergency evacuation and got the transponder codes right.
"This is Captain Garret of the Yorktown. All hands abandon ship. Lifepods will eject you to a safe distance. Use ejection sequence Alpha One. Engineering port, set rendezvous with NCC-72134, engineering starboard, set rendezvous with NCC-74683. Saucer port, set rendezvous with NCC-92770, saucer starboard, set rendezvous with NCC-95784. One minute thirty seconds until warp core breech." I tapped quickly through the PADD's options, selecting the appropriate responses to the questions. "Do not use our transporters. Help any injured shipmates get to a pod...do not grab anything else. That is all. Good luck."
As I stood up from the center seat for what was probably the last time, I had to force my emotions down so I could get to the lifepod. L'naa and Sotek had already entered the last pod on the bridge, and were looking at me with alarm as I slowly walked towards them.
"Sooner would be better than later, brah," Sotek called out.
I looked at the PADD, making sure the sensors showed no life signs aboard. Only then did I enter the pod, slamming the hatch behind me. L'naa had already punched in the rendezvous code, and initiated the ejection sequence.
I heard the hatch blow open above us, then felt a kick as the lifepod shot us away from the dying Yorktown. Looking out the viewport, I saw dozens of lifepods flying away from the ship, reminding me of some cartoons I saw as a child where teeth come flying out a mouth after being punched. I felt like that...punched.
In my gut.
Fire was leeching into space from multiple holes on the Yorktown, and it was astounding to actually see the damage first hand and not through an impersonal MSD. The grids on the nacelles glowed an unhealthy shade of blue, the Bussard Collectors a brilliant crimson. Blue and gold lightning crackled across the hull from one place to another, and panels blew off as structural integrity was lost section by section.
I didn't have it in me to watch as the seconds counted down to zero, so shut my eyes tight against what was coming next.
Didn't matter.
The light was blinding.
My ship was gone.
********************************************* Twenty-three years later...
Do-do-doo-dweep!
I looked towards the door of my ready room, grateful to whomever had interrupted my flashback. I never really stopped having them. Sure...they diminished in frequency, but whenever something stressful came up, so did my demons.
I guess I'd have to spend a few more sessions working on that. Don't know why I resisted counseling for so long...it really did help. I guess the loss of the Honolulu years ago was a good thing, seeing as how the crew I took onboard included an awesome counsellor.
"Enter," I called towards the door.
It quickly swooshed open, and Sotek came in, a half dozen PADDs in his arms. "Admiral," he started, then paused. I think we were both still getting used to my rank, and his eyebrow twitched a bit as he replayed the promotion fiasco in his mind. But as usual, he quickly recovered and spoke to the matter at hand.
"Here are the reports from the fleet. All ships report optimal conditions." He placed the pile on my desk, spreading them out like cards. "Klingon and Romulan fleets have spoken to their units, and are awaiting your commands before we move to the engagement points." He tapped at a PADD, displaying the combined fleets that I'd reluctantly taken command of for this final push against our foes. "I've kept it in three fleets, folding the Ferengi, Cardassian, and Vulcan detachments into our command structure...just so the Klingons and Romulans don't use them for cannon fodder or as an excuse to accidentally have friendly fire address old feuds."
"Good thinking," I said. "This thing is going to be difficult enough without "accidents" happening. Just to be sure...keep the Cardassians in the middle of our formation. Both the Klingons and Romulans have their reasons for a bit of mistargeting."
"Agreed." he put his hand on the guest chair, and I motioned for him to sit down. He tilted his head a bit and asked, "I know the fleet is ready...but are you?"
I shook my head. "No," I admitted. "It's the same thing I told the Admiralty...I'm don't want the command of a fleet that can cause so much damage at my whim."
"And that is why they said you are the exact person that should be in command. Someone who does not crave the power."
"Old friend, that is exactly the tripe they feed somebody when they want to play on their emotions to accept something difficult. And tripe is far from ono grinds."
He sat back and temples his fingers. "That may be so...but if you were not the right person, I highly doubt that other captains would so eagerly accept their role. And the Klingons and Romulans have no concern with taking your orders."
"Yeah...but do they know about the Yorktown?"
"Have you been thinking about that again?"
"Yes."
"It was a long time ago. We have all learned quite a bit since then."
"But what if I make a mistake again?"
Sotek flashed a quick grin, then said, "If you do...I hope that I am faster in figuring out a solution that does not rely on luck. Or in your second officer being so distrustful of an Orion female that she dropped a marker buoy signalling that we might need assistance."
"There won't be any last minute rescues even if we drop a hundred buoys...we are committing all forces. No reserves."
"All in."
"You got that right."
Sotek stood up and straightened his uniform top. "Then it may be time for you to signal the fleet it is time to deal."
I stood up and walked towards the door, Sotek following me onto the bridge. I gazed around, seeing that each station was stocked with emergency supplies nearby, and damage control personnel, medics, and MACOs lined the perimeter, ready for whatever came next.
"Commander, open a fleet wide channel," I called to my wife, L'naa.
She sat in the seat to the right of my chair, and tapped a command on her console. She gave me a warm smile as she stated, "Channel open, Admiral."
Admiral, I thought. I never wanted to trade my four pips for the boxed set, yet here I stood, rectangles on both sides of my neck.
Felt like I could feel them choking me, and if I screwed up, they just might as an angry Undine jams them down my throat.
Nope.
Not gonna let that happen.
"All hands," I said, standing as straight as I could, "this is Admiral Garret. I'll be brief. The events of the last few years have shown us that our foe takes no mercy, and is one we don't want our children to ever face. So it comes down to this. You all know what has to be done, and I know you'll do your part and more. We stand united against a threat to our future. We can not fail...as there will be no second chances. So fight hard, fight smart, and when the battle is over, we can all go home. Godspeed and good luck."
The channel closed, but not before I head a chorus of "Qua'plaa!" from the Klingon ships, followed by some of their crews breaking into song. Should I have said something about if they find themselves feasting and drinking with their ancestors to not be afraid, as they are in Sto'vo'kor and already dead? Nah...that would have offended them by accusing them of having fear. And I don't know how I could motivate the others...probably ticked a few off with Godspeed.
Whatever. They can file complaints later.
Sotek walked over to the express turbolift that would take him to the Rouge Valley. He rapped the frame twice, shook his head, and threw me a Shaka.
It was something he used to do on the Yorktown....tapping the wooden decorative door frames for luck.
I figured out what he was telling me. No wood here, brah, but it's all good. This ain't the Yorktown. You've pulled us out of worse situations than that, and you'll do it again today. Hang loose, and we hit Giovanni's next Thursday.
Raising my right hand, I first gave Sotek the Vulcan salute, then rolled my hand into a Shaka. "See you on the other side."
The doors slid shut as he nodded, and I walked over to Lt.Cdr. Dipolo at Ops. "Signal the fleet to launch all auxiliary craft and fighters, and prepare to depart on my mark."
She smiled, answering me with confidence. "Aye, Sir...signaled."
I made my way to the center seat, sat down slowly, and prepped my consoles for battle. There were two phasers attached to the back of my seat, and a Mehk'leth taped underneath.
Just in case.
The monitor showed our fleet launching their support craft, and a moment later, I felt the slightest of groans as the RougeValley slid out from her aft home on the Bonaventure. L'naa called out, "All ships report ready, Admiral."
I gave her a warm smile, then tapped my console. "All ships...move to the engagement coordinates. Follow the pathfinders pace, and on contact, unleash hell."
Picking up a PADD, I noted that the weather over my house on Earth was raining with high winds. A bad day.
I showed the weather report to L'naa. "Seems like today is not a good day."
She rolled her eyes at me. "Save that stuff for the Klingons," she whispered. She reached out and held my hand. "We'll make it."
"I know."
"I love you."
I paused a beat, then answred, "I know."
She rolled her eyes again and shook her head. "You tell me to do, not try, and I will hit you. They can court martial me after the battle."
I smiled. "After this battle, we debrief and in a month we retire on this Admiral pension of mine."
"I do not believe that for a moment."
"That we won't live through this to get to retirement?"
She sighed. "No, my husband. This we shall survive. But I do not believe for a moment you are ready to give this up and retire."
Comments
/_\The Final Battle/_\
-
- Three months after the invasion-
On board the U.S.S. Colmubia's Gate, Vice Admiral James Throne stared out the window of his ready room. The man walked over to his desk and sat down. "Computer, begin log entry." He requested. After the computer acknowledged, he began.
"Captain's personal log star date 91508.88...It's been three long months. The Iconians have finally been defeated. Command has asked me to send a small squadron from Task Force Whiskey 117 has been assigned to patrol the sectors surrounding the Dyson Sphere. -sigh- Loosing Tonha made me think a part of my soul was torn away. She was probably the closest person I knew on this ship." The Admiral paused as he thought back to when Tonha was in sickbay. "Seeing her body cold and lifeless was something I'd never forget. She sacrificed her self to save the Alpha Quadrant. " He resumed. James felt tears coming to him but he forced them back. " As of this star date the Colmubia's Gate will be receiving a new First Officer...Computer end log." The Admiral buried his face into the palms of his hands, and sighed heavily.
*****
Debri was everywhere as the Colmubia's Gate flew towards the Iconian dreadnought. Only a handful of KDF, Republic, and Federation ships, were left including the Enterprise-F and the Bortasqu'. The Emissary class cruiser fired a barrage of Quantum Torpedoes who aimed for the enemy dreadnought. Several of the torpedoes missed but then hit the surrounding targets. Shields flashed as they scored a direct hit destroying several ships.
"Report!" James shouted over the alarm.
The Operations officer spoke first." Captain,three Iconian frigates have been destroyed. But the dreadnought's shields are still holding."
"Helm bring us around for another pass." Throne ordered.
"Aye sir!" The Jem'Hadar replied, as his fingers tapped the console.
The ship banked sharp to the left while firing her tetryon beams in all directions.
"Renuzia, try and take their engines offline. Oliver reverse shield polarity! Take off some of that damage." The officers acknowledged. James tapped a button on his chair and opened a comm. "Throne to away team, status report. Tonha what's the situation?" A female voice came through. "Jackson and Roberts are down sir. It's just me and Chief Uvar." Her voice was shaky.
"Our transporters are badly damaged. We'll only be able to transport one of you."
Another voice interrupted. "Admiral I've just received word that the Enterprise has been hit on their starboard nacelle. Their venting plasma!" Renuzia noted.
"Dammit!" Throne cried. "Tell cruisers echo through gamma to head over to their location."
On the dreadnought First Officer Tonha Ke'sath and Chief Engineer Uvar Noreen fought their way into the Engineering room. The two women finally made it in. Uvar tapped her badge.
"Captain we're in."
"Is the bomb ready Chief?"
"Yes, but sir we have a problem." She replied.
"Go ahead?"
"She took some damage on our way in. The timers fried so I'll have to fire it manually."
The Admiral sighed. "Is there another way Chief?" He asked.
"No sir, I'm afraid there isn't."
"Alright then. Detonate the bomb and get the hell outa there!" Ordered the Vice admiral.
"Yes sir! Chief out." The Bajoran shook her head.
"I'll do it." Tonha said as she moved towards the Engineer.
"Are you sure? Because as soon as it goes off-" the chief was cut off.
"I know the risk. Now go to the EVAC site. Save your self." Tonha's voice was sharp.
The young Bajoran didn't move at first. But as she turned she said "good luck". Tonha gave her a slight nod and returned to arming the device. When Uvar arrived at the EVAC site she tapped her badge.
"Uvar to Colmubia's Gate, one to beam up."
Meanwhile Tonha set the delay to one minute. She decided it was time to say her goody byes. "James..." She said as she tapped her badge one last time. "I remember that question you asked me before the war began." The bridge was silent as Tonha spoke. You are a strong-willed being who never gives up hope. Ever since the academy I knew we'd make the best team."
Oliver interrupted in a soft voice "Sir the dreadnought's core is breaching." James noticed the rest of the allied fleet moving away to a safe distance as he sat in silence. "And James." Tonha said softly. "Yes Tonha?" He asked griping the arms of his chair.
"I love yo-" The channel was cut off when an explosion ripped the dreadnought apart.
****
Star date 91058.90
---
A chime beeped as James woke up. Looks like I fell asleep again..he thought. "Enter"
A young women walked into the ready room. Her hair was the same color as her uniform. Due to the deregulation of star fleet uniforms, the Admiral decided to have the crew wear the Task Force Whiskey green uniforms. "Commander Liza Thompson reporting for duty sir." She stated.
"Welcome aboard number one. Since you are now apart of the Colmubia's Gate, you're also a member of Task Force Whiskey 117." James replied.
The Commander spoke up. "I understand that sir. Also I heard that you were promoted to second in command of the Task Force. Congratulations...if it's not to late." James nodded his head and rose from the chair. Throne put his hand on her shoulder. "If you don't mind Commander, I'd like to give you a tour of the ship." Liza replied. "That would be splendid Admiral." "Good, then we can use this as a chance to get to know one another." James said. The First Officer smiled as James lead her out of the Ready Room. Outside work bees swarmed the Colmubia's Gate as engineers as they were refitting the old Star Cruiser. Utopia Planitia was busier than ever...
Vice Admiral James Throne
U.S.S. Colmubia's Gate
NX-91004
Task Force Whiskey 117
Second in Command
"Keep scanning."
My eyes were hopelessly trying to make out anything through the static on the viewscreen. Sure, I could see random swirls of colour, and maybe a crackle of lightning here and there, but even with the enhancements, sensors still couldn't give a clear picture when in the nebula.
So much for the vaunted advancements on the Ambassador-class.
Still, the Yorktown is mine...and faults and all, she's still a great ship.
"Trying," Sotek called back. He'd been at his post for the last ten or so hours, doing what Vulcan Science Officers do best: raise their eyebrow from time to time and dumb down the explanation enough for the captain to understand it.
A quiet cough from behind me caught my attention, and I rotated my seat to the right. The Orion freighter captain, now wearing a robe at the insistence of my Security Chief, shot me a pair of sad doe eyes. "Captain," she purred, "isn't there anything that you can do? My people need your help before the life support module shuts down." She flicked her black hair out of her eyes, and pouted. "I couldn't afford a Mark IV...they only have hours left on the itty bitty Mark II."
L'naa rolled her eyes from her station, shaking her head slowly from side to side. The Orion captain wasn't making many friends amongst my female staff, arrogantly strutting back and forth, cooing to each male crew member, and dumping so many pheromones in the air I had to have her escorted only by Deltans. L'naa pursed her lips, squinted her eyes a bit, and said coldly, "Maybe if you spent less on latinum bracelets you could have afforded at least a Mark III."
The Orion spun on a spike heel, crossing her arms and fixing L'naa with an icy glare. She was about to say something, but stopped short, and instead just gave a little grin. "Sorry, deary," she quietly said, batting her eyes. "They were out of stock."
Something didn't seem right about the Orion, but I waved it off for now. This was the first time she was civil to a female member of my crew instead of being catty. We picked her up in a small lifeboat a day ago, adrift just outside the Mutara Nebula. The lifeboat bore signs of plasma fire that targeted life support...the calling card of the pirates we've been hunting for the last month.
These unknown pirates were good...I'll give them that. They had some inside info...it was the only way they'd be able to make their hit and run attacks without Starfleet catching on and laying a trap. We had a small task force out looking for them, as they'd gone after a Ferengi trader who had connections to the Grand Nagus. Maybe one of us would get lucky.
I really hope so...as these pirates don't leave survivors. The Orion was the first.
Breep...breep...breep.
I looked over at Sotek, puzzled as to why a signal beacon was coming through clear when our sensors couldn't get a clear signal on anything, audio or visual. He shrugged, activating a detailed scanner that slowly rose up from his console. He bent over and peered into the scanner, slowly making adjustments via the console.
"Captain," he said, "it reads as a Romulan signal buoy, yet a secondary frequency is that of a Nausican Raider's primary sensor array. I'd recommend caution, and going to Yellow Alert."
The Orion squealed behind me, jumping up and down, letting her robe part at the front. "No! It's my ship! You've found them!" She made her way towards me, arms open for a big embrace, but the Deltan Security Officer stood in her way and simply shook his head, No.
"Captain," I said calmly, "you said your ship was a standard Type Zeph trader. If I'm not mistaken...that type is incompatible with Romulan technology."
L'naa spoke up, "You're not mistaken, Sir. The Gorn tachyon relays in the Zeph prevent any Romulan, Reman, or Cardassian transmitters to function without shorting out primary and secondary systems immediately."
The Orion tilted her head seductively, smiling towards me over the shoulder of the Deltan Security Officer. "Oh, my dear Captain," she whispered. "It is just a false transponder code. If you put resistors between a Scorpion fighter's ejector pod beacon and the Gorn tertiary relay, it won't burn out the couplings."
Sotek and L'naa exchanged a quick glance at each other, L'naa frowning. She called up schematics on her station and began to study them as Sotek downloaded the data he'd gathered from his station.
I turned away from the Orion, my head swimming. The Deltan had held up three fingers behind his back, indicating that the Orion was trying to distract me with her pheromones. "Commander," I called to Sotek, "could that work?"
"It might. But that is highly doubtful."
The Orion pouted again, stomping her foot like a child. "It does work! I did it myself! See? Here my ship is...you can see it now!"
I looked towards the viewscreen, and indeed, a gull-like ship appeared out of the blue waves of the nebula, all static gone. I guessed we were close enough for our sensors to get a clear image, or moved away from a pocket of interference. Either way, the Zeph floated towards us, trailing light green plasma from the left nacelle. She bore the scars of the pirate's plasma weaponry, the life support tower sheared away, and multiple lifeboat hatches twisted and melted into the hull plating.
"Oh no," the Orion said dramatically, "Captain...my crew couldn't get out! Please...without the life support tower, they must have lost atmosphere by now! Please pull them in!"
It was Sotek's turn to roll his eyes. "Sir, I read faint life signs, and minimal atmosphere. If they can detach their nacelles we can tractor them into Shuttlebay 2."
"No, please! Don't do that! I couldn't possibly afford new nacelle couplings! Can't you bring them into Shuttlebay 1?"
I looked at the screen closely, noting that if the Zeph had the life support tower, it wouldn't fit into the main shuttlebay, and with the nacelles in place, wouldn't fit in the aft shuttlebay.
I had a bad feeling about this.
Sotek did as well, and sent a message to my console. Confirm life signs aboard, some very faint. No weapons detected. We can pressurize the shuttlebay faster than we can beam the crew out, given the Zeph's fifteen transport inhibitors.
"Why exactly does your ship have multiple transport inhibitors, Captain?" I asked.
"Pirates, deary. You don't want them to just sneak up and beam your cargo off, do you? My shields aren't the best...but my inhibitors are."
I took a deep breath. "Commander, bring them in, slowly. There won't be more than a meter of vertical clearance. Pressurize the bay and get medical teams there."
Sotek didn't look pleased, but answered, "Aye, Sir. Tractor initiated...we have them."
Looking over to L'naa, I was going to ask for a status report, but noted that the Orion was grinning a bit too slyly.
A grin that was getting bigger as her ship entered the shuttlebay.
"Sotek, belay my last. Back that ship out now."
The Orion snarled out, "Oh, I don't think so." She stomped her other foot down, and a brilliant flash blinded everyone on the bridge as the bottom of the Zeph burst out like a phaser spinal lance.
The deck heaved forward as the inertial dampers struggled to keep us with the forces tearing the Yorktown apart. Incredibly, I heard the whir of a Klingon transporter, and turned to see the Orion Captain vanish in a stream of red matter, her left hand pressing the latinum bracelet on her right arm. The bridge was filling with gasses from ruptured conduits, and sparks flew from nearly every console.
"Damage repo--" I started to call out, but was interrupted by a blast from a plasma torpedo detonating against the hull. I was thrown to the deck, along with half the crew.
Sotek, as always, managed to stay upright. "Sensors are offline. We are blind!"
L'naa shouted over the howl of escaping gas, "No...that witch played us...stand by!" She pounded her console, as it wouldn't respond to the usual gentle tap, and the viewscreen cleared up instantly. "I ejected her lifeboat...it was jamming our sensors this entire time!" She hit her console again, then ran to one that wasn't smoking. "Onscreen now...incoming ships!"
Through the smoke I made out the angular lines of a Rigellian Freighter spitting out plasma fire from multiple turrets, and I could barely see the rounded nose of an Angosian Transport launching a spread of photon torpedoes.
"Brace for impact!" I shouted, cursing myself by allowing the Orion to con me. She did all the right things...played the victim, played out sympathy for the spacer down on their luck, and made us believe that her crew was in immediate peril.
Somehow, I don't think that's gonna help much at my court-martial.
By some miracle our shields took the impact of the photons, and I nervously looked at the Master Systems Display. The blast from the Zeph pierced straight down through the main shuttlebay entrance, ripped though our decks, and exited through the main deflector. If it was inside when it blew, the beam would have taken out our warp core, and we'd be particles. Alarms were blaring, and casualty reports were coming in from all decks. I couldn't make out any sense, so I motioned to Sotek to cut all comms so we could try and regain some control and attempt to get out of this alive.
"Audio muted!" Sotek shouted, and motioned towards the Conn and Ops positions, shaking his head sadly.
There wasn't any position left.
I cursed again, and sat down hard in my seat. Opening the panel on the right side, I yanked out the flight controller, as I didn't trust that touchscreens would be responding in the way I intended.
"What do we have left?" I shouted.
L'naa was at the MSD, using a tricorder to enter commands, as the console had melted into slag. "You have the saucer's ventral forward and port array, dorsal port array, belly array, and port lateral array." She squinted at the readings, adding, "three photons in the aft tube, reloader is offline."
Sotek called out, "Shields at thirty-three percent! Engineering can give you maneuvering thrusters only."
"Casualties?"
L'naa shook her head. "Do not worry about that now. Just get us out of here if you can."
Damn it.
"Hang on!"
I rocked the ship towards the Angosian Transport. If it still had torpedoes, it was the larger threat. The Yorktown was sluggish, turning too slowly to bring what little weapons I had to bear.
"I need quarter impulse at least!"
Sotek calmly said, "Not going to happen." He looked at the MSD, and quietly said, "Might be time to bail, brah."
I shook my head. "That's what's not going to happen. They don't leave survivors."
The deck heaved up again. "We take any more damage, we will not get a vote in the matter," L'naa said, without emotion.
"Boost power to the RCS, and all shields to port," I ordered. Sotek jumped back as his console erupted into sparks, but without a pause made his way to the Sciences II station, reconfiguring it for Engineering.
"Done."
Slamming the flight controller to starboard, the Yorktown responded a bit quicker, allowing the remaining phasers a chance to strike back. Orange beams lanced out towards the Angosian, but her shields took most of the hit.
Sotek shook his head again. "No effect. You have got to hit them with everything we have."
I yelled back at him, "That *was* everything!"
"Then it seems like this *is* a good day, after all."
L'naa yelled, "Shut up, you two! Just do your magic and get us out of this!"
I threw her a quick glance, enough to tell her she crossed a line, but went back to slamming the flight controller, hoping that it could somehow sense my desperation and give me just that much more. More phasers...more shields...more maneuverability.
More.
Just a little bit.
The Rigellian was trying to sneak into our weak starboard, so I rolled Yorktown 45 degrees in that direction, hoping that the saucer would take more of the relatively weak plasma turret fire. The Rigellian responded with an unrealistic burst of power, somehow coming abeam and hitting us where our main deflector once was. I heard a horrific shriek of duranium plating as a torpedo in the damaged forward tube detonated, ripping a hole in the neck that I thought would be the end of us.
Sotek looked at the MSD, comparing it to the reading at his station. "We pau, brah."
L'naa concurred, shrugging her shoulders to indicate there was nothing left to do.
I came to the sad realization that they were right. I swallowed, then ordered, "Set interlocks on the core to backflow. Just in case." I stood, looked up, and said, "Computer, begin auto-destruct sequence. Authorization Garret, two one, Omega Omicron."
Sotek took a step forward, and calmly said, "Computer, Commander Sotek. Confirm auto-destruct sequence. Authorization Omicron Mu three five seven."
L'naa took a step forward, and said with a smile, "Oh hell no. Not today, boys! Look!" she said, pointing at the screen.
Four flares stretched out from the edge of the nebula, compacting back into the familiar form of the ships in our task force.
At our starboard side, the Nova-class Valkyrie opened up with a gravity well, snaring the Angosian and Rigellian in a violet wave, as the Hope-class Mendeleev let loose with a spread of photons, her phasers firing at will, raking the hulls of both pirate vessels.
Off to our port, the Kaitain's nacelles lowered in position, and photons blasted from both tubes on the Intrepid-class' blended neck. She quickly moved between us and the pirates, extending her shields to keep us in one piece just a bit longer.
But what was more amazing was the sight of the pylons and nacelles of the Hypatia visibly bending under the stress of evasive maneuvers, bringing both fore and aft weapons to bear on her targets almost simultaneously.
I'm gonna have to ask Grunt how the hell he pulled that one off.
The pirate ships tried to mount a defense against this new threat, but were just outmatched. The Angosian signalled its surrender, but the Rigellian, in an act of defiance, started her own self-destruct sequence. Captain Palmer used tractor repulsors to shove the ship off a safe distance before she blew, but the shock wave that hit us still made the Yorktown screech in an alarming way. It didn't matter that L'naa didn't enter her self destruct authorization. The core was going critical, and there wasn't anything we could do to stop it.
Hitting the transmit button on my chair, I opened hailing frequencies shipwide, as well as short range so our rescuers would hear us. I grabbed the PADD strapped to my chair to ensure I went through the correct checklist for emergency evacuation and got the transponder codes right.
"This is Captain Garret of the Yorktown. All hands abandon ship. Lifepods will eject you to a safe distance. Use ejection sequence Alpha One. Engineering port, set rendezvous with NCC-72134, engineering starboard, set rendezvous with NCC-74683. Saucer port, set rendezvous with NCC-92770, saucer starboard, set rendezvous with NCC-95784. One minute thirty seconds until warp core breech." I tapped quickly through the PADD's options, selecting the appropriate responses to the questions. "Do not use our transporters. Help any injured shipmates get to a pod...do not grab anything else. That is all. Good luck."
As I stood up from the center seat for what was probably the last time, I had to force my emotions down so I could get to the lifepod. L'naa and Sotek had already entered the last pod on the bridge, and were looking at me with alarm as I slowly walked towards them.
"Sooner would be better than later, brah," Sotek called out.
I looked at the PADD, making sure the sensors showed no life signs aboard. Only then did I enter the pod, slamming the hatch behind me. L'naa had already punched in the rendezvous code, and initiated the ejection sequence.
I heard the hatch blow open above us, then felt a kick as the lifepod shot us away from the dying Yorktown. Looking out the viewport, I saw dozens of lifepods flying away from the ship, reminding me of some cartoons I saw as a child where teeth come flying out a mouth after being punched. I felt like that...punched.
In my gut.
Fire was leeching into space from multiple holes on the Yorktown, and it was astounding to actually see the damage first hand and not through an impersonal MSD. The grids on the nacelles glowed an unhealthy shade of blue, the Bussard Collectors a brilliant crimson. Blue and gold lightning crackled across the hull from one place to another, and panels blew off as structural integrity was lost section by section.
I didn't have it in me to watch as the seconds counted down to zero, so shut my eyes tight against what was coming next.
Didn't matter.
The light was blinding.
My ship was gone.
*********************************************
Twenty-three years later...
Do-do-doo-dweep!
I looked towards the door of my ready room, grateful to whomever had interrupted my flashback. I never really stopped having them. Sure...they diminished in frequency, but whenever something stressful came up, so did my demons.
I guess I'd have to spend a few more sessions working on that. Don't know why I resisted counseling for so long...it really did help. I guess the loss of the Honolulu years ago was a good thing, seeing as how the crew I took onboard included an awesome counsellor.
"Enter," I called towards the door.
It quickly swooshed open, and Sotek came in, a half dozen PADDs in his arms. "Admiral," he started, then paused. I think we were both still getting used to my rank, and his eyebrow twitched a bit as he replayed the promotion fiasco in his mind. But as usual, he quickly recovered and spoke to the matter at hand.
"Here are the reports from the fleet. All ships report optimal conditions." He placed the pile on my desk, spreading them out like cards. "Klingon and Romulan fleets have spoken to their units, and are awaiting your commands before we move to the engagement points." He tapped at a PADD, displaying the combined fleets that I'd reluctantly taken command of for this final push against our foes. "I've kept it in three fleets, folding the Ferengi, Cardassian, and Vulcan detachments into our command structure...just so the Klingons and Romulans don't use them for cannon fodder or as an excuse to accidentally have friendly fire address old feuds."
"Good thinking," I said. "This thing is going to be difficult enough without "accidents" happening. Just to be sure...keep the Cardassians in the middle of our formation. Both the Klingons and Romulans have their reasons for a bit of mistargeting."
"Agreed." he put his hand on the guest chair, and I motioned for him to sit down. He tilted his head a bit and asked, "I know the fleet is ready...but are you?"
I shook my head. "No," I admitted. "It's the same thing I told the Admiralty...I'm don't want the command of a fleet that can cause so much damage at my whim."
"And that is why they said you are the exact person that should be in command. Someone who does not crave the power."
"Old friend, that is exactly the tripe they feed somebody when they want to play on their emotions to accept something difficult. And tripe is far from ono grinds."
He sat back and temples his fingers. "That may be so...but if you were not the right person, I highly doubt that other captains would so eagerly accept their role. And the Klingons and Romulans have no concern with taking your orders."
"Yeah...but do they know about the Yorktown?"
"Have you been thinking about that again?"
"Yes."
"It was a long time ago. We have all learned quite a bit since then."
"But what if I make a mistake again?"
Sotek flashed a quick grin, then said, "If you do...I hope that I am faster in figuring out a solution that does not rely on luck. Or in your second officer being so distrustful of an Orion female that she dropped a marker buoy signalling that we might need assistance."
"There won't be any last minute rescues even if we drop a hundred buoys...we are committing all forces. No reserves."
"All in."
"You got that right."
Sotek stood up and straightened his uniform top. "Then it may be time for you to signal the fleet it is time to deal."
I stood up and walked towards the door, Sotek following me onto the bridge. I gazed around, seeing that each station was stocked with emergency supplies nearby, and damage control personnel, medics, and MACOs lined the perimeter, ready for whatever came next.
"Commander, open a fleet wide channel," I called to my wife, L'naa.
She sat in the seat to the right of my chair, and tapped a command on her console. She gave me a warm smile as she stated, "Channel open, Admiral."
Admiral, I thought. I never wanted to trade my four pips for the boxed set, yet here I stood, rectangles on both sides of my neck.
Felt like I could feel them choking me, and if I screwed up, they just might as an angry Undine jams them down my throat.
Nope.
Not gonna let that happen.
"All hands," I said, standing as straight as I could, "this is Admiral Garret. I'll be brief. The events of the last few years have shown us that our foe takes no mercy, and is one we don't want our children to ever face. So it comes down to this. You all know what has to be done, and I know you'll do your part and more. We stand united against a threat to our future. We can not fail...as there will be no second chances. So fight hard, fight smart, and when the battle is over, we can all go home. Godspeed and good luck."
The channel closed, but not before I head a chorus of "Qua'plaa!" from the Klingon ships, followed by some of their crews breaking into song. Should I have said something about if they find themselves feasting and drinking with their ancestors to not be afraid, as they are in Sto'vo'kor and already dead? Nah...that would have offended them by accusing them of having fear. And I don't know how I could motivate the others...probably ticked a few off with Godspeed.
Whatever. They can file complaints later.
Sotek walked over to the express turbolift that would take him to the Rouge Valley. He rapped the frame twice, shook his head, and threw me a Shaka.
It was something he used to do on the Yorktown....tapping the wooden decorative door frames for luck.
I figured out what he was telling me. No wood here, brah, but it's all good. This ain't the Yorktown. You've pulled us out of worse situations than that, and you'll do it again today. Hang loose, and we hit Giovanni's next Thursday.
Raising my right hand, I first gave Sotek the Vulcan salute, then rolled my hand into a Shaka. "See you on the other side."
The doors slid shut as he nodded, and I walked over to Lt.Cdr. Dipolo at Ops. "Signal the fleet to launch all auxiliary craft and fighters, and prepare to depart on my mark."
She smiled, answering me with confidence. "Aye, Sir...signaled."
I made my way to the center seat, sat down slowly, and prepped my consoles for battle. There were two phasers attached to the back of my seat, and a Mehk'leth taped underneath.
Just in case.
The monitor showed our fleet launching their support craft, and a moment later, I felt the slightest of groans as the Rouge Valley slid out from her aft home on the Bonaventure. L'naa called out, "All ships report ready, Admiral."
I gave her a warm smile, then tapped my console. "All ships...move to the engagement coordinates. Follow the pathfinders pace, and on contact, unleash hell."
Picking up a PADD, I noted that the weather over my house on Earth was raining with high winds. A bad day.
I showed the weather report to L'naa. "Seems like today is not a good day."
She rolled her eyes at me. "Save that stuff for the Klingons," she whispered. She reached out and held my hand. "We'll make it."
"I know."
"I love you."
I paused a beat, then answred, "I know."
She rolled her eyes again and shook her head. "You tell me to do, not try, and I will hit you. They can court martial me after the battle."
I smiled. "After this battle, we debrief and in a month we retire on this Admiral pension of mine."
"I do not believe that for a moment."
"That we won't live through this to get to retirement?"
She sighed. "No, my husband. This we shall survive. But I do not believe for a moment you are ready to give this up and retire."
Her confidence buoyed my spirits.
"We'll see. Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow."