A blaring red alert klaxon and a flash of bright white sparks from the fore of the bridge brought Captain Jean-Luc Picard back to reality. Blinking hard, he moved his hand over the back of his almost entirely bald head, attempting to soothe the pain that emanated from it, albeit without much success. He felt another hand clamp onto his right arm, that of his sturdy and ever-faithful Number One, Commander William Riker. Still dazed, the older man was pulled upward to a standing position, where giddiness nearly overcame him again, but Riker was there, waiting for the customary stumble. Sitting back down in his seat, central to all on the bridge, Picard looked around at his hard-working and, at the moment, preoccupied crew.

A green disruptor blast flared across the viewscreen, signalling to Picard where he was and what the current situation was. The USS Enterprise-E was being "road-tested" in battle against a formidable opponent; a Romulan warbird, naturally. Picard had expected nothing less – any other ship bar the Galaxy-class would have been left alone by the proud Romulans, who seemed almost Klingon in their bid to conquer brand new ships operated by Starfleet in an effort to improve on their own technological advances.

At last feeling better, with his vision back in focus, Picard nodded a gesture of thanks to his first officer, who sat back in his own seat to Picard's right-hand side.

'Mr Data, report.'

The android sitting at helm in front of Picard tapped away with practised ease at his console. 'We have lost power to decks 18 through 21, Captain. Shields are at a combined total of 41%. We have 518 photon torpedoes and 31 quantum torpedoes at our disposal. Phasers are becoming ineffective against the enemy's shields, and our warp drive is inoperable.'

Bad news, thought Picard, leaning back to take advantage of any comfort his chair could offer him. The ship rocked violently for the umpteenth time, but Picard held on, using the armrests at his side for support. 'Mr Data, full axis rotation to port. Mr Worf, aft torpedoes, fire.'

'Aye sir,' came the deep-voiced reply from the Klingon. Data simply nodded, and sent the ship into the correct manoeuvre. Picard watched the viewscreen, which was constantly locked onto the warbird T'Mereth, and saw four orange balls of light race unhindered toward the warbird. There was a flash of light as the torpedoes connected with the Romulan shields, but none of them seemed to get through them. The Romulans then decided to open fire, and three plasma torpedoes rammed into the Enterprise, causing one or two crewmen on the bridge – those unfortunate enough not to be holding on to a support or, like the captain, a chair – were thrown back amongst several consoles exploding. Picard thought about asking his chief engineer Geordi LaForge to increase power to the shields, by rerouting the extra energy from the warp engines, no longer being used, but the tireless taskmaster probably had his hands more than full right now.

'Captain,' said Data, turning to face his commanding officer. 'Our shields have failed. We have multiple hull breaches. I am also detecting several transporter signals all over the ship. I believe the Romulans are boarding us, sir.'

A new siren rang out, signalling intruder alert. Worf quickly deployed his security teams from his station, and pulled a phaser from a nearby locker, embedded in the wall. The Klingon would fight the RomuluSngan to his bitter end, if necessary.

Damn. They'd held out for so long, and the ship had performed admirably, but most captains would succumb to the only option available at this point. Picard, ever the tactician, found another, and implemented it.

'Commander,' he said, looking round at Worf, who was working with his phaser in one hand. 'Activate four photon torpedoes but don't fire them.'

Worf shot a puzzling glace at Picard, but restrained himself from asking why. He knew the captain well enough to trust his instincts.

'Torpedoes armed,' he declared.

'Number One, when the Romulans beam over their next landing party, I would like you to transport the torpedoes over to their engineering section.' Picard did his best to hide the concern in his voice. This plan could easily backfire, and they would only have a few seconds – at best – to act.

Riker worked his controls and looked back at Picard. 'Transporters standing by, sir.'

'Mr Worf, how are our security teams doing?'

'They are being overwhelmed, Captain, replied the Klingon, 'but only on the lower decks. Deck 5 is clear of Romulans and there is no immediate threat to the bridge crew.' Worf seemed to be scanning the room at every opportunity to make sure the Romulans didn't suddenly surprise them all.

A few, blissful seconds passed, when no disruptor or torpedo was fired, before Commander Deanna Troi exclaimed, 'The Romulans are dropping their shields! Transports in progress!'

Picard turned to Riker. 'Now, Number One.'

Riker began the transport sequence, sending the torpedoes on their way to—

BOOM. A huge explosion shoved everyone toward the front of the bridge, save for Data and the ensign at navigation. Amid debris, smoke and flames, Picard looked up for the second time in this battle from the floor, this time at Data.

'The containment field is destabilising! Warp core breach in—'

A sharp, white light penetrated Picard, causing him to cover his eyes for a few seconds. When he took his hands from his face, he saw the grey monotone of the ceiling. Looking around, he viewed his entire senior staff and several other officers standing around, some with hands on hips. Being helped to his feet for the second time that day, this time by Worf, Picard sighed. 'Well, that didn't go so well.'

LaForge stepped forward. 'I'm guessing the torpedoes went off in the transporter buffer, huh?'

Picard nodded in agreement. 'They probably ruptured the EPS grid that sends power to the containment field. I thought another one would have kicked in.'

'Me too. Guess the grid wasn't quick enough today. Oh well, it's only the fourth time we've tried to beat a warbird and failed.'

Failed. The word almost hammered into Picard. He was, however, grateful they had only been on the holodeck, or they wouldn't be here and having this conversation right now.

'Well,' said Riker, standing up tall, making him head and shoulders above the group of senior officers now making their way to the exit, and on to the real Enterprise-E. 'I particularly liked today's tactic. May use that myself someday.' He grinned his quite boyish grin, causing Geordi to sigh and roll his eyes.

'Let's hope,' added Picard, 'you don't suffer the same fate we just experienced. Anyway Will, you won't take command of any ship. You've turned down so many opportunities, Starfleet may stop asking soon.' Picard shot Riker a grin of his own, causing the first officer to recoil with the universal "who, moi?" gesture. Beverly Crusher, the ship's CMO, laughed out loud. 'They may even let you skip a captaincy and make you an admiral!'

'That wouldn't be so bad,' replied Riker, rubbing his beard. 'I'd be able to order Captain Picard around!'

Picard turned just as he was about to round a corner. 'Don't count on it, Number One,' he warned, pointing his finger at his target, letting loose a smirk.

The officers laughed, a good end to a particularly difficult day. Picard dropped his arm to his side. 'I'm afraid I'll have to call it a night. My head needs to recover from several impacts with the floor.'

'No argument there,' said Troi, moving alongside her Imzadi, Riker.

Picard continued. 'We'll have a staff briefing at 0800 hours tomorrow morning, where we can discuss today's events with a refreshed memory. Goodnight all.'

'Goodnight,' echoed the officers, who split off into smaller groups and headed for their quarters. Picard did the same. Passing several delta shift crewmen making their way to their duty stations, Picard arrived at a turbolift. Directing it to Deck 2, the lift whirred into life, climbing first, then moving horizontally until it stopped in the aft section of the Enterprise's second-highest deck. Once the doors parted, Picard walked the short distance to his quarters, the doors to which parted as he approached them. Resisting the temptation to yawn too much, Picard decided to lie down straight away, so as to sleep as much as he could. In the silence, Picard was left alone with his thoughts, but he wouldn't sleep on that alone.

'Computer, music.'

The computer chirped its acknowledgement. 'Please specify.'

'Something slow by Edvard Grieg. Minimal volume.'

Another chirp. Then the gentle but haunting melody of Shepherd's Boy began, entrancing Picard, willing him to sleep. As the music began to strengthen, he thought of his new ship. It was nothing like the Enterprise-D, that much was certain. It was also a fine ship, albeit its flaws. Then again, wasn't any new ship subject to these problems as well?

But this wasn't just any new ship. This was to be the Federation's flagship, the largest in the fleet, the pride of the Federation. It would face many challenges over, as Picard hoped, many years.

Probably including battles with Romulan warbirds.