"Captain, shields down to 34 percent!"

"Hull breach on deck 5, force fields failing. Attempting to reroute power to compensate!"

"The Saratoga's shields are down, hull breach imminent! Moving away to avoid the blast!"

"Incoming hail from Admiral Hanson! Moving 1 kilometer west, pitch 40 degrees. Avoiding fire."

"The Cube's coming about, firing on the Yorktown."

"It's no use, sir! I can't seal the breach, it's expanding onto decks 4 and 6. Issuing evacuation alerts."

"The Bellerophon took a hit to their bridge. Poor Captain Pabst…"

"Phaser batteries are running low on power. Not sure how much longer they'll last, sir."

"The Munificent is requesting assistance. Shall we move in to- wait… their warp core just went critical. They're gone."

"Incoming fire! Everyone, brace!"

In the chaos of the battle, Captain John Riley sat, clutching to his seat. The middle aged human braced for the impact that Kevin Tome, his tactical officer, had warned the Magellan's bridge of.

The decks shook for what seemed like the hundredth time that day as the Borg plasma weapons hit the damaged Miranda-class starship.

Tome turned around from his station at the back of the bridge, his young gaze staring at the Captain. "Sir, that shot blew out our phaser banks, and our shields are down. We're defenceless."

As if to punctuate the Ensign's statement, the ship's helm exploded in a shower of sparks. Raining down on the Andorian Lieutenant's uniform, the helmsman fell on the ground, crying out in pain.

One of the bridge's security officers rushed over, picking up the wounded Andorian. "Bridge to Sickbay," he said into his combadge, "We have a medical emergency, prepare for plasma burns."

"Well, you're going to have to wait your turn!" came the doctor's rushed reply, "I have a dozen wounded crew members down here, and all of them are in critical condition!"

The security officer walked over to the turbolift, supporting the wounded helmsman. Gesturing to his first officer, the Trill Commander Kalen, to take the helm, he turned to Lieutenant T'Tallendil at communications.

"What's the word from Admiral Hanson?" he asked. T'Tallendil checked her monitor, scanning the Starfleet frequencies. "The Admiral has ordered the fleet to fall back and regroup. I will transfer the coordinates to the helm."

Kalen took a quick glance at the data being sent to him, and began entering coordinates for the ship to follow.

It wasn't easy. Every few seconds a Borg plasm beam or torpedo would impact some part of the Magellan, leaving holes and plasma fires littering the hull of the small ship. Ensign Tome was doing an incredible job of keeping the engines active. Captain Riley made a note to put the boy in for a commendation.

Eventually, the Magellan reached the rendezvous point, being the last to arrive. Not much of the fleet remained, only a dozen of the original 40 ships hovering outside the massive amount of wreckage.

"Captain," T'Tallendil spoke in her usual emotionless monotone, "The Admiral's flagship has been destroyed."

The entire bridge fell silent, all except the Vulcans showing various signs of mourning. For several seconds, there was no noise. Unfortunately, a Borg torpedo slammed into the Magellan's hull several decks below, breaking the crew out of their thoughts. Captain Riley heaved a loud sigh.

"T'Tallendil, hail the fleet. I'm taking command in the Admiral's absence. Have them reroute all power to forward shields and engines, and prepare to break straight for the cube on my mark." The Vulcan gave a nod, and began typing at her console.

Kalen got up from the helm, and walked over to the Captain. "Sir, what are you-?"

"I know what I'm doing, Commander. Just make sure the crew stays calm." Looking at him warily, Kalen gave a quick salute, and sat back down at the helm.

T'Tallendil looked back at the Captain. "The fleet is signalling ready, sir."

Riley slowly stood up and looked at the viewscreen. Even though there was static all over the screen, he could still make out the massive cube lingering a few kilometers away, taking pot shots at the fleet.

"For the Federation," Riley muttered under his breath.

"Forward," he ordered. And with that order, the remaining dozen ships began their slow limp, towards the Borg menace that was threatening their capital. And not just their capital.

Their friends, their families, and everything they fought and served for. When they took their oath as a Starfleet officer, they all knew this possible outcome. And they were prepared to lay down their lives for all those things waiting back home.

Tapping his combadge and hearing the familiar chirp, Captain Riley said into it, "Captain's log, USS Magellan, final log entry. Issuing field commendations to the crews of all 40 starships present today. Requesting-" Riley had to pause as the currently unoccupied science console blew out, showering sparks all over the bridge.

"Requesting the Christopher Pike Medal of Valor for the crews of said starships. And that if there's anything left of us… bring us home!" The last few words brought some hope and comfort to the remaining bridge crew.

"Kalen," Riley said to his first officer, "Maximum speed. I want there to be nothing left of the cube once we're done with it." Kalen gave a slow nod, and began typing at his console.

Ever so gradually, the dozen heavily damaged ships began their slow limp towards the Borg cube. The Yorktown received a plasma torpedo to their port nacelle, causing their warp core to destabilize. The resulting explosion destroyed the Kyushu and sent the Firebrand whirling away, where it exploded several seconds later.

The majority of the remaining ships received a similar fate. Most of the ships were shot at to a point where they were simply unrecognizable. At one kilometer away from the cube, only the Magellan, Melbourne, Firebrand, and Liberator remained. "Ramming speed!" Riley roared over the sound of weapons fire and explosions.

The four ships accelerated, heading straight for the ever increasing hulk that was the cube. Riley could hear Ensign Tome behind him, numbly muttering, "My god, oh my god."

"It's been an honor serving with you, sir," Kalen said to his Captain, clutching to his seat, ensuring he didn't fall out.

Riley answered with a grin. "Likewise, Commander. Do Trill have afterlives?"

Kalen seriously considered it. "Well, sir, if we do, then I'll be sure to drop by and say hello from time to time."

"You do that, Commander," Riley said, "You do that." He turned around to face the rest of the bridge. "The same goes for all of you!"

Everyone on the bridge answered, be it with a nod, a smile, a salute, or a quick "Yes, sir!"

And with that, the four ships rammed into the cube. For the vision of everyone on the bridge, it looked similar to a bright, white, light. And with these last few seconds, the disastrous battle of Wolf 359 was over. The Borg cube was barely damaged by the last ditch effort of Starfleet. It simply began repairs and continued onto sector 001 to assimilate Earth, where it would eventually be destroyed by the efforts of the crew of the Enterprise-D, therefore ensuring that the crews of these 40 starships sacrifices would not be in vain.

The Battle of Wolf 359

2367, Stardate 44002.3

Borg Cube lightly damaged

39 Starfleet ships lost, 11,000 killed or assimilated