USS
Surefoot
, Deck 1 Fore -- Bridge:
Hrelle swallowed, his stomach plummeting into some hidden vortex as he stared at the viewscreen. The basic attack pattern of the enemy was the same as what the probe data had suggested: a main Dominion ship with a swarm of smaller Scarabs trailing behind like schoolcubs, and Cardassian Galor vessels surrounding the main vessel in a support sphere.
But the Dominion Battleship here was more than twice the size expected --
Seven Hells, it must have been almost two thousand metres in length!
-- as was the number of Scarabs.
The Bridge had gone silent, apart from the Red Alert klaxon. "Shut off that noise." He stood by his chair as the sound ended, his voice affecting a confidence he didn't feel in the slightest. "Okay, we follow our original orders: Hold back with the
Triton
and
Samaritan
, scan the field ahead, watch for signs when we need to step in and help, unless and until we hear otherwise. Short range communications should be clear now, in case new orders come in."
*
USS
Triton
Deck 1 Fore -- Bridge:
Tattok was through studying the Tactical display. "Contact the
Oregon
and
Philadelphia
, have them join the
Pollux
,
Argonaut
,
Vancouver
and
Tereshkova
task force in the assault on that battleship, with the
Pollux
remaining in charge. The
Ajax
,
Featherwind
,
Revere
and
Thunderbolt
will support the Peregrine fighters from the carriers
Puget Sound
and
Bannockburn
to hold back the Scarabs. The
Cooper
will continue on its Intelligence mission, and the
Surefoot
will remain with the
Samaritan
and
Triton
in the rear. Everyone else: pick a Cardassian ship and teach them the folly of choosing the wrong side in this War." He breathed out as his orders were followed. Okay, it was going to be tougher than anticipated, but it was nothing they couldn't handle.
And they
had
to handle it. Khavak couldn't fall to the Dominion, it left too many neighbouring systems -- Zalkon, Gault, Sigma Draconis, Zalda IV -- vulnerable.
And there had been far too many losses in this War already.
*
Like the petals of a flower, the ships of the Thirteenth Fleet spread outward, even as the shovel-shaped Cardassian Galor-class vessels surrounding the Battleship performed a similar manoeuvre, waiting until the distances were closed before the storm of phasers, torpedoes and disruptor fire lit up the dark corners at the edge of the system.
The image of the raptor-shaped Battleship dominated the sky, hovering at the edge of the system's Oort cloud, seemingly ignoring the light and heavy cruisers moving directly towards it... as scores of tiny Scarab ships swarmed out to contribute to the chaos, met by the Peregrines and the escort vessels.
*
USS
Ajax
, Deck 3 Mid -- Science Lab:
Sasha was plunging into darkness, tumbling, out of control, aware of without seeing the presence of Shanek, reaching deeper and deeper into her consciousness.
My mind to your mind... my thoughts to your thoughts... you cannot resist... you will tell me everything I need to know...
She was reaching out blindly, grasping at the darkness, touching things that seemed to trigger flashes of memory: fighting the Ferasans, visiting her mother's grave, laughing with her little brother, holding onto Dad for dear life when she was dying
GET OUT OF MY HEAD YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO BE IN HERE
I am genuinely sorry, Lieutenant, but I have orders to obtain everything about your Grandmother... think of her... recall every conversation, every mention of the Mother's Claws... base locations, projects, contacts...
More flashes of memory- the Clan, Grandpa Mi'Tree, Sreen, the Kaetini, C'Rash, Vulcan, Giles, Alpha Squad, her Mom, the Vlathi, Madison, Madison, Madison, reaching into his mind, giving him orders-
no, that wasn't her she never did that that was-
You are correct, Lieutenant. I used the hapless Mr Madison, implanting suggestions and false memories, making him my unknowing assistant, acquiring intelligence from you, delivering it to my superior... unfortunately for him, he ran into your stepfather, triggering the investigation...
I SAID GET OUT OF MY HEAD
She felt herself slam into something behind/beneath/above her, as Shanek's mental image was upon her, filling up her mind, like heat burning into her flesh, her bones.
You have a formidable psychic presence, Lieutenant, but in the end, you are merely human, alone with me-
A hand that didn't belong to Sasha shot out from the darkness, grasping Shanek by the arm and drawing him back.
He looked up, startled.
Another presence here- this is impossible-
The image of an older Vulcan female in a Starfleet uniform stepped into view of Sasha's mind's eye, tightening her grip on Shanek, declaring to him,
Your logic is flawed.
Who are you?
Sasha gathered her mental reserves, rising up on what approximated her legs.
This is an avatar of my former First Officer, Commander T'Varik. Years ago, I was the victim of a telepathic assault, and she helped heal me... and helped set traps for the next prick that tried to invade my mind.
She watched Shanek struggle to free himself from the avatar of T'Varik.
A psychogenic sentry... unexpected, but she will not defeat me...
She's not meant to defeat you, Bubulah...
Just distract you...
Until my Clan arrives.
From the shadows, mental images of her Dad, of Kami and Grandma and her Grandpas, of her aunts and uncles and cousins, emerged, surrounding, closing in, growling.
They're my Strength, Shanek,
she informed him.
My Spirit, my Rock and my Fire.
The image of her Dad roared and struck the first blow, sending Shanek sprawling, as the others pounced, clawing and biting.
You're not strong enough to defeat them all.
NOW... FOR THE LAST TIME... GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HEAD!!
*
USS
Dragonheart
, Deck 5 Mid -- Engineering:
Jonas strode quickly along the walkway, slipping easily around his crewmates, content that all of them were too focused on their specific tasks to acknowledge him. It had been one of the initial issues he had on his promotion to one of the ship's Assistant Chief Engineers, where older, more experienced crewmen were suddenly offering him a respect, a deference, he wasn't certain he deserved. He hadn't been onboard long, before Commander Dubois and Captain Nguyen decided that his work in getting the new warp core online in record time meant he needed more responsibility.
Thanks for that, guys.
The Red Alert signals continued to flash overhead, though the sounds were switched off long ago, leaving only the occasional intercom message -- or the sharp, unexpected banking of their vessel -- to clue in the Engineering crew as to what was happening outside. "
Damage control parties to starboard nacelle strut- we're losing shield strength, reinforce-"
Jonas paused near the Structural Integrity Field Generator Status Station, where Crewman Ashton Knight, a freckled Australian kid only a couple of years older than Jonas, was gripping the sides of the station, his whole body frozen in place. Petrified.
He drew up to him, keeping his voice low but audible as he patted him on the forearm. "Unclench, Buddy. You're not going to be more alert if you get a leg cramp or snap a spine."
Knight looked up at him, eyes wide in disbelief. "Lieutenant! Why aren't you- We're in the middle of a fight!"
"No, we're not," Jonas replied, trying to sound as calm and confident as possible. "We're in the middle of Engineering, doing our jobs. What happens beyond our little corner of the Universe is out of our control."
"B-But-"
"Everyone else is counting on us to keep things running, so they can do their job... and keep us alive." He smiled. "Okay?"
Knight managed a smile back. "Aye, Sir."
Jonas slapped him on the back and moved on. Captain Hrelle's words had given him comfort all the way back to when he was still a cadet, performing as a Strategic Engineering Officer on the
Surefoot
... and not even yet seeing Neraxis as anything other than a friend. A loud, brash, raucous, gluttonous-
The Red Alert klaxon returned. "
Intruder Alert! Intruder Alert!"
He stopped near the warp core column, glancing up at the ceiling -- before immediately moving to the Security Station. Around him, other crewmen looked to each other in confusion, questions and statements flung at each other. "The shields are still up!" "Transporters can't get through shields! How can there be intruders?" "It's not possible!"
Jonas knew better than to waste time asking such questions; he made sure the force fields were up at the critical junctures, and key systems had restricted access. He looked across at the others, some of them having moved away from their posts. "Stay focused! Rurahn! Winslow! Get back to your stations!"
Then his combadge chirped, and Neraxis' voice reached him, laced with urgency. "
Jonas, it's Neraxis! Tell me you got force fields in place!"
He stopped and tapped it in acknowledgement. "They're up! What's happening?"
"
Jem'Hadar troops are beaming in! Their transporters aren't blocked by our shields! We have intruders on Decks 4, 5, 6- get yourself armed! We're fighting our way down to-"
The communications screeched.
He tried re-establishing communications, failing. His heart raced, and memories of the invasion of the
Surefoot
by the serpentine Vlathi years ago returned- but only as a cold recollection, rather than some sort of traumatic flashback. His authority opened the locker, and he lifted up a phaser. "Winslow! Knight! Get over here! We'll have to hold the fort until Security gets down!"
The crewmen started in his direction- until both of them were struck with energy bolts, making them spin, and fall, and lie still.
Jonas grabbed a phaser in each hand and stepped back into an alcove, raising one arm towards the doorway but resisting the urge to fire until- until-
Two tall reptoids with mottled, horned faces and clad in grey-black body armour raced in, wielding large, black, bulky-looking rifles, beady eyes glancing around-