Somewhere in the Gamma Quadrant
During Star Trek: DS9 "Jem'Hadar"
A panel exploded, sending sparks cascading down Lieutenant Commander Lucia Jacobsen's console. She flinched, averting her eyes from the glare. She checked for damage. Burn marks scared the former polished panel, a large crack ran across one screen. Nothing as serious as the port warp nacelle. With that off-line the ship couldn't escape. Another explosion rocked the ship. She grabbed her console, holding her in her seat. She glanced around to look behind her. She squinted, but she couldn't see John though the smoke. Probably up with the captain she thought. The ship rocked again, this time she hit the deck. A muscular hand reached down and grabbed her.
Commander John William Murdoch helped Lucia back into her seat. He looked at her, her hair a mess, something she'd complain about for days. That and the state of her uniform. He heard his name shouted out form across the bridge. He gave her one last assuring squeeze on her shoulder, and then moved toward the middle of the bridge. Moving through the smoke he had to grab the wooden railing to steady himself, as the ship rocked again. He found the captain. "Captain?" The older man looked around, and faced him. His expression was firm and emotionless. But John knew Keogh better than that. He could see the concern in his eye, and the helplessness in his mouth. "They're punching though the shields!"
He shouted to the captain. "We can't take much more." Keogh looked at him, his eyes studying Murdoch's face.
"I know. I've told Major Kira that we're pulling out. They've found Sisko." Murdoch nodded, though he hardly cared. The commander of Deep Space Nine had gone missing, and they'd found him. It meant little to him. More important were the three Dominion ships attacking. They seemed to be able to punch though the Odyssey's shields, and that was no small feat for a fighter against a Galaxy-class Starship. Murdoch knew that even though Keogh had ordered a withdrawal; the Odyssey wouldn't survive at this rate. She'd be in the 'Dry-Dock' for months. Something had to be done, and done now. Keogh must have a plan, and that's why he'd called Murdoch over. But the expression Murdoch read didn't look confident. "John, we need a plan." Murdoch nodded, trying to hide the sudden wave of panic that had come over him. If Keogh didn't know what to do, what was he going to do? "The warp drive." Murdoch replied. "Maybe we can use just the one nacelle." It was a long shot, but possible.
Keogh nodded. "Get to work on it. Get Lucia to help." Murdoch nodded and headed back to the aft of the bridge, where Lucia was stationed. He got there, and grabbed her chair for support. "We need to create a warp field." He shouted, leaning over her head. "With just the one nacelle?" Lucia shouted back.
"That's all we've got. It'll have to do." He felt her head nod, rubbing against his chest.
"We'll have to increase the power." He continued. He felt her head nod again. He wasn't a scientist, but he had learnt a lot form Lucia over the years, and he knew something. He saw her hands fly over the controls, carrying out his orders, charging the starboard nacelle. "How long?" He asked, hoping he didn't regret asking.
"A minute or two." Longer he thought. She always gave him the answer he wanted, not the truth. But he was used to it. Four, maybe five minutes. Too long, would the Odyssey hold out long enough? The deck moved, pulling Murdoch, and the other standing officers off their feet. He managed to grab the back of Lucia's seat, stopping his fall. Righting himself he glanced at Lucia's display, hoping for good news. Learning that the Warp field would be up in less than 45 seconds rewarded him. Then he heard a shout from somewhere behind him. "THEY'RE MAKING ANOTHER RUN!" The shout had a tone that made it penetrate the smoke to find every pair of ears. All movement seemed to halt for a minute second. Then the crew resumed its frantic struggle to hold the ship together. Murdoch turned toward the centre of the bridge and his eyes met Keogh's. He could see the terror in his eyes. He looked defeated, and ready to collapse. Keogh turned away, and begun shouting orders. Murdoch turned around and faced Lucia's wide eyes. He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the fight he saw in them. He nodded and she returned it. She turned back to her display and reported. "We'll have a stable field in, 15 seconds." Murdoch nodded, this time he did so with greater confidence. At least they'd escape, however badly damaged the ship was.
A blast to through ships failing shields, hammered into the hull. Murdoch, trying to keep his balance by holding onto the chair, was flung sideways and into the computers. His thigh cracked as he hit the low panel, pain shooting up his left side. He crumpled to the deck, falling to his back. He tried to steady himself using his arms, but only succeeded in causing bolts of pain up his leg. He managed to raise himself enough to see Lucia. She worked feverously at her controls. His stomach seemed to liquidize. He felt the impact long before it happened. He was thrown vertically, his leg slamming on the deck, the snap of another bone, ricochet though his body. As he looked up his face locked onto that of Lucia. The explosion hit her in the head and chest, sending her reeling backwards, her chair snapping at the base. She was thrown into the deck, her body bouncing as it landed. Her head landed at a sickening angle. Murdoch dragged himself toward her. He found it difficult, not only hindered by the constant pain of his shattered leg, but also the strange centrifugal force pulling him toward the walls of the battered bridge. He managed to get to her, and he leaned over her chest. He could see her chest heaving, grasping on to life. Her uniform was burnt, and in some places burnt skin could be seen showing through. He painfully looked at her face. Her face was black and bloody from the shower of sparks shot into her face. Her eyes, though wide open seemed unseeing. He picked up her head, and held it in his bloody hands. She slowly turned her face towards him, and her moth moved to speak. But no words came out. She closed her eyes, her face showing the pain. She opened them again and managed to whisper. "Don't let them get you John. Please, don't." She looked into his face, her eyes unable to produce tears. Her eyes stayed that way for a few seconds, the innocent green orbs probing his mind, his conscience. Then they lost their glow, and dimmed. The eyelids slid shut, and her chest heaved once more, and then fell silent. It took him a moment to realise, what had happened. Then the ship seemed to stop spinning for a moment, and then the ship shivered. The sharp shaking lasted by a few moments. The ship exploded, it's containment fields, hull integrity shields, and inertial dampeners unable to keep up with the strain any longer. The shockwave originated from the starboard nacelle. The build-up in energy ripped the ship apart at the seams, spilling the contents into the cold, unforgiving depths of space. Of 567 crew onboard, StarFleet reported no survivors.
TO BE CONTINUED……