AN- RIP Paul Walker. This is for him. Hope y'all like the Fast and Furious vibe I've got going here. :/
Andrew Bennett watched the viewscreens in the emergency bunker below Starfleet Headquarters. Starbase One was dimmed and scarred as the Separatist ships ravaged the remaining Starfleet vessels in orbit.
"Admiral Bennett! Ground forces are launching from Separatist ships!" Ensign Cody Andrews yelled from his station.
"Sir! Friendly reinforcements just dropped out of warp!" Lieutenant j.g. Natalie Rushman called out coolly from her post.
Bennett watched as Federation starships dropped out of warp, along with ships from the Galactic Republic, Klingon Empire, and the Romulan Star Empire. A voice broke into the comm channel.
"This is Alpha Leader. All fighter squadrons, break!"
Starbase One came to life and its bay doors opened slowly. At first, nothing happened. Then, a single shuttle zipped out. After a moment of strained silence, dozens more followed, all marked with color stripes along the sides. Bennett could have sworn he saw an old Columbia-class shuttlepod in the mix up.
Cheers filled the bunker room. Shuttles and starfighters from the other friendly ships joined the ensuing melee.
"Wait!" Malcolm Reed pointed at a Romulan shuttle sliding between two droid vulture fighters, "Magnify that shuttle!"
Rushman did so and Reed promptly muttered a rather foul Andorian curse.
"Bloody hell. That's the Romulan Praetor's personal shuttle. It wouldn't surprise me if the Klingon chancellor was here as well," he said. Another voice spoke up next.
Captain T'Les Reed of the USS Dominant snapped out a series of orders rapidly, "Ground forces have landed. Open 'em up and let 'em rip, people! Endex, endex, endex!"
Bennett watched in awe as the feeds switched to abandoned car garages across the world. They heard engines being started and what sounded like some weird music. A voice started belting out lyrics to some arcane 21st century song.
"Money's the motivation. Money's the conversation. You on vacation, we getting paid so. We on paid-cation. I did it for the fam, does whatever we have to do. Yeah, that's just who I am, gunshots in the dark, one eye closed."
"What the hell?" Reed muttered.
"You use plastic, we 'bout cash. I see some people ahead that we gon' pass, yeah!"
"Turn that trash off!" one of the other Admirals in the bunker shouted. T'Les shook her head and smiled.
"I never fear death or dying. I only fear never trying. I am whatever I am. Only God can judge me now."
A few of the junior officers in the bunker smirked and joined in for what sounded like the chorus.
"One shot, everything rides on tonight, even if I've got three strikes, Imma go for it. This moment, we own it. And I'm not to be played with, because it could get dangerous, see these people I ride with, this moment, we own it."
The song continued as the car garage doors opened. Land and air vehicles streamed out and spread out across the skies and ground. Old strafing cars from WWIII were spotted in the massive flood of vehicles, along with some old shuttlepods and even some modified 21st century monster trucks.
Shuttles with civilian markings took off from shuttle ports despite the lockdown and Starfleet faculty cars lifted off, piloted by cadets who had picked the locks. Young faces were seen everywhere, many of them the faces of Academy cadets and university students. Academy and university instructors worked together to direct drivers to enemy ground forces, where the guns on top of the vehicles opened fire and turned droids into shrapnel.
Planetary defense forces jumped into the melee, blasting droids apart with glee. On the ground, General Grievous was confronted by a trio of teenagers wielding lightsabers. On Starbase One, Count Dooku was attacked by another pair of Jedi.
"Holy shit," Bennett murmured, "How come we never knew about this?"
T'Les shrugged, "I was under strict orders to keep this little joyride classified."
"We're Admirals, for Christ's sake!" Admiral Erik Kumahaga snapped.
"And I'm a Senator. Your point is?" a voice replied sardonically. A brunette had appeared in the doorway, wearing a tight white bodysuit and holding a pistol in her right hand.
"You are?" Kumahaga asked, with a slightly condescending tone in his voice. Jonathan Archer groaned slightly and Bennett glanced nervously over at a smirking Admiral Reed.
"Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo," she replied evenly, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Admiral Kumahaga. Your record is rather impressive."
Kumahaga blushed and was about to reply when he was interrupted.
"God, Padmé! You've been hanging around T'Mir way too much. You're even starting to pick up her speech habits," Jedi Knight Jasmin Kenobi said with a smile as she appeared behind the Senator.
! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !
"You're getting violent again!"
"Well, suck it up! I'm at the gun and you're not! So shut up and drive!"
"Fine, fine. Shutting up and driving," Jim Kirk muttered darkly as more phase rifle fire ripped apart the droids in front of the makeshift strafing car.
"And I'm only getting violent because these bastards are threatening my home! I grew up less than two klicks to the east of here," Nyota Uhura replied casually.
"Yea, remind me never to piss you off," Kirk quipped.
"Too late. You started that back in that dump of a bar in Riverside," Uhura replied easily.
Jim swerved the car just in time to avoid hitting a rather large vehicle that had suddenly appeared in front of them. A Vulcan woman was in the front, with a Vulcan guy at the gun, calmly shredding droids.
"What the hell?" he yelled at them, but didn't get an answer. Six more cars appeared behind the other car, all staffed by various species and genders. One car even had a small Klingon party in the back, yelling and jeering at the droids, swinging at any who got too close with their bat'leths.
"When did the Klingons show up?" Uhura asked.
A car swerved next to them and kept up with them, watching their backs.
"Captain Kirk!" a voice came over the comm system, "Do you copy?"
Jim smiled and replied, "I copy, Admiral. Good to hear a familiar voice!"
"We only met once," Romulan Admiral Mina Sandiski replied sarcastically.
"Well, your voice is still familiar!" Jim argued.
Sandiski sighed, "There's no arguing with you. Just follow- Droids at ten o'clock! Open fire, quickly! Now! Anyway, just follow us to the RV point. I think that we're being met by a Marine squad and a Jedi. At least, that's what I was told by your Admirals."
"Well, that's good enough for me," Uhura chimed in from the gunny hole up top.
Sandiski laughed, "Well I suppose that we'll have to trust those goons up top."
"So. Which of your buddies wants to watch our back? 'Cause I think that Uhura is extremely focused on the droids in front of us rather than the shrapnel we're leaving behind," Jim asked.
Sandiski laughed, "Captain Kor says he would be honored to watch the backs of any honorable Earther such as yourselves. Just don't take all the droids."
"You got it. Uhura, leave the Klingons some toys to play with!" Jim yelled to Uhura.
"No promises!" she replied even as she let a few slide by for the Klingons. Shouts and battle cries came from the Klingon groundcar as the droids were turned into tiny metal pieces.
! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !
Commander T'Mir Tucker sat in the gunner's chair of an antique Starfleet shuttlepod from the 22nd century. Shuttlepod One from the NX-01 Enterprise was small and filled to the brim with eight people. Lieutenant Mereel Skirata was seated in the pilot's chair and a team of six MACOs were standing behind them. Major Andrew Hayes stepped forward and tapped T'Mir on the shoulder.
She didn't turn, but simply replied in true MACO fashion, "Go!"
"We've got a new drop-off point three klicks southeast of the original point. You squids are hogging all the fun," he said. Corporal Nathan Greene muttered something about Vulcan logic to Colonel Alyssa Johnson, who snickered slightly.
"Indeed, Corporal Greene. Vulcan logic does dictate a peaceful solution should be found first, as does our culture. However, we WILL fight if and when we are threatened. Did we not 'come to the rescue' at the Battle of Cheron approximately 103.71 years ago?" T'Mir replied evenly.
Privates Jared and Mariah Harris laughed, while Medic Taylor Stevenson smirked silently. Greene's face turned bright red.
"Good job, Commander," Hayes said, "You sure showed him."
"I merely spoke the truth," T'Mir said.
Mereel snorted, "Yeah, but you still taught him something about logic."
"Your logic is sound, Lieutenant," she said after 0.37 seconds of thought, "We should proceed to the new drop-off point."
! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !
Commander Spock watched the battle unfold from his place in the captain's chair of the USS Enterprise. Republic fighters streamed through the enemy lines, as did MACO attack fighter, Klingon shuttles, Romulan fighters and shuttles, and Federation ships. Ensign Brown at communications winced when he heard either a Boomer, Klingon, or Romulan let lose any curse. Apparently, it conflicted with his religion.
"Commander Spock! More enemy reinforcements are dropping out of lightspeed," Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu reported from his station. Ensign Pavel Chekov was so hyper that he was almost vibrating out of his chair. Commander Emily Hernandez stood at the tactical station, firing upon the enemy vessels that got too close for comfort.
"Sir, I don't think our shields can take much more. Permission to disengage from the battle for repairs?" Hernandez asked.
Doctor Leonard McCoy ran out of the turbolift and skidded to a stop next to Lieutenant Commander Montgomery Scott, who was unconscious and bleeding from a particularly nasty head wound.
"I'd listen to her, Spock. I've had to turn Cargo Bays 3 and 4 into emergency sickbays for the patients who don't need surgery this exact second. I'm gonna have to transfer the ones who got out of surgery to Cargo Bay 2, which is now under Vulcan gravity but with an Earth atmosphere so they don't roll around if we get rocked too hard. Out of a crew of about 700, I have 358 patients. My staff consists of 6 doctors and 8 nurses. I got lucky and now have three interns from the Academy, but that only amount to 17 medical personnel. That's at least 40 patients for each person. Too many, hear!" McCoy reported, "So either listen to Commander Hernandez and get the hell out of here or get me some more damn medical staff!"
Spock thought over this for 4.56 milliseconds and turned to Chekov and Sulu, "Mister Chekov, plot a course to the nearest medical facility that is operating. Mister Sulu, get us out of here."
"Aye, sir!" they replied simultaneously.
"Commander Spock, sir!" Ensign Brown yelled over the commotion on the bridge, "We're being hailed by the Romulan and Klingon flagships."
"Put it through," Spock ordered. The viewscreen split into two parts. On one side was young Senator Aratenik and on the other was Councilor Gowron.
"Gentlemen," Spock greeted simply. Gowron grunted his reply.
"Hello, Commander," Aratenik greeted him in reply, "Where is your Captain?"
"He is currently on the surface tending to the droids there. I'm sure Admiral Sandiski would have informed you by now, as she is currently 'watching his back', as you would say," Spock replied with a slight lift of his eyebrow.
"I have a report from Captain Kor. He is there as well. Your captain is being too generous in the number of droids he is leaving for them," Gowron said.
"I assume that you have a request to make?" Spock asked, cutting right down to business.
Gowron chuckled slightly, "Of course, Commander. I can't speak for Senator Aratenik, but I would personally like to request that we be allowed to evacuate your people from the emergency bunker I know Starfleet keeps so that their Admiralty may hide from battle. I'm sure they would enjoy this glorious battle."
"I believe they would," Spock said diplomatically, ignoring the insult in the Klingon's words, even though Doctor McCoy gave him a glare for not responding in kind.
"I have requested that this ship's commander assist the Klingon's in evacuating your people. Their ship simply does not have enough room to host that many comfortably and out of the way of the working crewmembers," Aratenik said.
Spock nodded, "Very well. I will contact you again when we have safely switched frequencies for our communications channels so that the enemy may not hear us."
Ensign Brown cut the channel quickly, then turned to Spock, "Sir? Why are you allowing the Klingons and Romulans to retrieve the Admirals? Shouldn't we be doing that or another Starfleet ship?"
"It is called diplomacy, Ensign. Sometimes, one must allow one's temporary allies to feel useful in more ways than just fighting your battles. This will placate the Klingons and Romulans and give them the impression that we trust them."
"Do we?" Sulu asked.
"We must. They are our only help against an overwhelming enemy," Spock said simply before looking at Hernandez.
"Commander Hernandez, you have the conn. I will be in Engineering if you require my assistance."
! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !
Bennett was startled when he felt a transporter beam take him. When he rematerialized, he was on a Romulan transporter pad. Behind the transporter console was a sturdy looking centurion. Bennett stepped off of the transporter pad along with five of the junior officers. He was directed to what looked like a wardroom, while the others were probably sent to a cargo bay somewhere.
"You know, Admiral, I never did like you," a feminine voice said from behind him. Turning, he saw a Romulan commander waiting rather impatiently.
"We haven't even met," he protested.
"Oh, I know. Your file say suggests that you take a while to adjust to new things. That's a death sentence for a fighting officer," she replied easily.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"Commander Charvanek. You are aboard the IRW Honor Blade. Now come on. You may as well follow me to the wardroom," she replied.
Bennett frowned, "Why aren't you on the bridge?"
Charvanek scowled as she quickly turned and started walking away. He followed her.
"Senator Aratenik seems to look down upon my presence there. He claims that if I started countermanding his orders, it would distract the crew," she said darkly. The rest of the walk went in silence until they reached the wardroom, which was a hive of barely chaotic activity.
"Commander! I have reports of more enemy ships inbound. Should I deploy Attack Force Hwi?" a centurion asked from a communications station, an earpiece jammed haphazardly in his ear.
"Yes. Make sure that we keep any new enemy ships away and the old ones will retreat or be destroyed," Charvanek replied confidently.
Bennett spoke up, "If I may, Commander, I can get at least ten more ships. They're untested, but battle-capable. All they need is a good command crew."
Charvanek nodded, "I'll take one of them. It would be a sight better than stuck in a cramped room that is barely worthy of the word 'room'."
"Alright. Do you know of any other command worthy personnel? I've got a Captain for another one of the ships, but that leaves eight ships," Bennett replied.
"Maybe some of your Admirals could take command of the other ships," a Decurion in the back suggested.
"Maybe so. I'd be glad to be back in a command chair and I don't think Archer or Reed would argue. I'll contact them," he said.
Charvanek looked around at her people in the room. There were twenty young officers looking for excitement. Ten needed to stay here.
"Centurion Alamit, you will be communications officer. Decurion Relak, you are navigation. Subcommander Tal, you will be the tactical officer and my first. Centurion E'Lana, your post will be the science station. Centurion Kelan, you will be at the engineering station. We'll take a Starfleet doctor for the CMO. Pick a ship and board it. Get to your stations and prep for battle. We leave in fifteen minutes. Move out!" Charvanek ordered. Bennett looked up from his communications panel.
"You have the Invincible. Good solid ship with a good name. Your wing partner so far is the Dominant, commanded by Commander Thress. He'll probably break off at some point to go help out the Silver Bullet, which is commanded by Captain T'Les Reed. So, try to stick around the Enterprise," he ordered briskly. Charvanek nodded and left.
! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !
"We're losing life support! Klingons are breaking off to attack the Separatist flagship!" Hernandez yelled.
"Call them back. We need reinforcements!" Spock ordered.
"We're being hailed by the Invincible, sir. Its commander requests the honor of assisting us," Brown reported, sounding confused.
"Answer it," Spock replied.
A Romulan woman appeared on the viewscreen, with a bridge crew of more Romulans behind her.
"I am Commander Spock of the USS Enterprise. May I ask who you are?"
"I am Commander Charvanek. I see that we got here just in time. Could you use a hand?" the Romulan replied with a smirk.
"I believe we can. We are short-staffed in Sickbay and are dangerously low on power. We can barely maintain shields for much longer," Spock said. Hernandez seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.
"I'd say we'd cover you, but we've got bigger issues. There's a good-sized enemy fleet that just pushed past your defenses at the farthest planet of the Sol system. They'll be here in about ten minutes. I suggest beaming your crew to the surface and joining your captain there. Put your ship in the nearest Starbase and let the engineers work their magic," Charvanek advised, glancing over at a subcommander who stood at tactical. He nodded and held up four fingers silently.
"I believe we will do just that. Thank you Commander, for your help. Enterprise out," and the channel was cut.
"All personnel, this is Commander Spock. We will be returning to Starbase One, where we will take the transporters to the planet and assist in the ground battle. Arm yourselves. You will be directed to MACO Command, where you will be assigned to a team and sent out to fight. If you would prefer to use your medical, engineering, or communications skills elsewhere, you will be given that option. Spock out."
"So, here it is. We join the turf war. Dios Mios," Hernandez said.
"'Turf war'?" Spock asked.
"Ah, an old term for the drug skirmishes that used to take place around my hometown. Rather bloody, they were. Lots of dead people," she said.
"That's the understatement of the century," a crewman at the engineering station scoffed, "They fought over drugs and alcohol. They wanted their fix and their money. Dangerous motivation, if you ask me. Don't get between a cartel and their money, my grandmamma used to tell me."
Hernandez sighed, "Si, hermanito. Dangerous is a nice term. I hope we survive past this day to warn our children of the dangers of money. Dinero is a very dangerous thing, indeed."
Spock found himself slightly amused by their philosophical nature. Crewman Rafael and Commander Hernandez were both born in Mexico City. Who would have thought that humans could be so logical?
They docked at Starbase One and beamed down to the surface quickly, where they were given some respite, but not for long. For the day had yet to truly begin.