"The Banality of War"

By tremor3258

Author's note: Set during 'Takedown'.

"And then the Malon said… now get this, 'That's not a mushroom, that's my wife!'" the table roared with laughter as Ken Nguyen, Special Features Correspondent to Tau Dewa (a job that got bigger, it seemed, every year) – Andorian Wire Services, retold for the seventh time this deployment the best of the 'local' stories he'd gotten out of the Benthan Ambassador.

Still, it kept him in synthehol and in good with the crews, and as long as he kept getting Delta Command to shift ships, he'd not run out of stories or have anyone think on the dates long enough to realize they'd have to start two years before anyone beside Janeway's bunch had been this deep in the Delta Quadrant. Mostly, they just wanted to hear how close he'd gotten to the dancers at the Vulcan National Ballet. He was just glad to finally be close to one of Starfleet's rising stars – surely there'd be something dramatic.

He looked around the main crew cafeteria, it wasn't as large as you'd figure for the 1100 crew on a Guardian class like the Trafalgar, but there were two smaller cafeterias in the secondary hull and staggered shifts. He leaned back in conspiratorially towards the starboard impulse deck, gamma shift crew, and asked, "So – we're out here, seeing the real final frontier, and I want to get some holopics later of all of you, but what about up there?" Ken brushed dyed black hair back reflexively and pointed towards the ceiling.

"The impulse deck? Oh, it just looks Borg, it won't eat you," the older rating as the group's leader assured him. After a moment's thought, one off the crewmen helpfully adjusted Ken's finger so he was pointing farther forward. "Oh, the Admiral! She usually eats here at least once a week," the aging human said. "She rotates. Captain Takerra usually eats here," he added helpfully.

Ken frowned and leaned forward. Subconsciously, so did the others, "I've been on board for four days," He pointed out, "I met her at the transporter room from the T'dell, and that's all I've seen. I can interview stars and catch hypocrites all the time back home, but this is and I've barely seen her." The Admiral had greeted him, offered free run of the personnel sections of the ship, and then excused herself, citing her schedule.

There was an uneasy murmur at that. "She fought the Borg and the Undine, I was there for both. She's not scared of a reporter," the older rating, Callahan, said coolly. "This isn't some little dinkyscout ship like the T'dell. It's a big ship, you don't just 'run into' people, especially flag officers." There were some nods at that.

Ken looked around and decided to change tactics, saying, "Listen, guys – I know a ship, especially one as big as this takes a lot of people to get working. And I know that of the very tiny percentage of the Federation who qualifies for Starfleet service." It was cheap, but they straightened a bit. He continued, "It's a big proportion on ships that serve on cruisers, from Galaxies to Odysseys, in peacetime or in war, even if we're building more escorts when the war's going on. I'm happy your story is going to get out."

"But, from a citizen anywhere out past Vega or in Paris, when you think of a ship, it's the bridge and especially captain that is the ship from the average person's perspective, even if one person couldn't even keep life support running on their own. When I cut it together, it's her, not the flag captain, people will focus on. It's a gross simplification, but that's the feature business," Ken explained.

"Besides, she's the first of her species in Starfleet right? I'm sure they'd like a look on their favorite daughter," Ken said. "Starfleet Media Relations has an interview scheduled for me in a few days, but I want to see the young woman behind the rank pins. What does she do? What does she eat? What does that tattoo mean? Facial markings are always big" He started to talk faster, putting the pitch together in his head moments ahead, riding the wave towards ratings. "But it's not just her planet. Even what's unclassified on her dossier is amazing. One of the heroes of Vega, who helped Starfleet rise like a phoenix to keep us from enslavement by the Klingons or losing our souls to the Collective."

Ken was regretting that, a little, six hours later. He was in the admiral's private office, a sweltering affair on a deck higher than he'd been allowed before. It was a treasured one-on-one, though any cameras present were strictly Starfleet's, judging by the recording of the main cafeteria, courtesy of one of Trafalgar's security pickups.

He felt himself wilting in his jumpsuit, but the female across from him looked perfectly at home even with the heat cranked up, damn her. "'Favorite daughter'," she quoted, looking amused, "Mister Nguyen, if you knew enough about my species-"

Okay, this was more familiar ground, "Admiral, the 'cultural differences' defense has been common to interviewers since First Contact back on Earth. I know very well your species carries to term, typically as single fetuses and has a familial structure," Ken leaned back and tried to think of summer at the Home Office, comfortably at freezing point. "And I know the tattoo is an old-fashioned matrilineal symbol."

"Sorry," the Admiral replied, looking a bit abashed, "You're right, that was crude. Regardless, Mister Nguyen-"

"Ken, if you don't mind," he said, trying to make his teeth glint through the sweat.

"Ken," she allowed, "However, I had four crewmen come to their department chiefs, afraid you were going to try something like drop out of the Jeffries tube into my quarters. It is for their sakes we are having this interview." Her eyes narrowed, and Ken was reminded uncomfortably of a striking cobra. "Media Relations forwarded some of your features before I approved your transfer from the T'dell, and I don't recommend those tactics."

"Admiral," Ken said, "We are hundreds of light years from the Spheres connecting us to Federation space on a Starfleet operation. I'm well aware embedded journalism is not like feature reporting. I wouldn't dream of thinking what works for exposing the Syndicate connections-"

"Among other things, if I recall the trailer that was attached," Admiral Revka interrupted.

"Among others," Ken allowed, shifting in his seat. "But there's a question with the Trafalgar that wasn't present on the T'dell." Revka nodded briefly, inviting continuation. Ken went ahead. "The T'dell is a long-range Intrepid-class science ship. Its place is exploring hundreds of light years deep in the Delta Quadrant. The Trafalgar is a top-of-the-line Guardian cruiser, commanded by one of the best young command crews in Starfleet. What would keep the ship at full warp for days away from our beachhead in this quadrant? What requires that sort of force if you're at the top of your game?" Did you burn out went unasked, but heard.

There was no sound for a minute but the hurried breathing of the Admiral. "You… are very good," she said. There was silence again for a bit. "Starfleet is not looking for wars, Mister Nguyen. I don't know everything that's made it to the public on what we found right here – but it's tied to the events back in First City that already plunged the Alpha and Beta Quadrants into war."

"The Vaadwaur tearing through the Quadrant are known, Admiral, you're safe there. I did a feature on the aid convoys being put together, it's what brought me to Starfleet's attention," Ken said reassuringly, pulling at his collar.

"Fair enough, but you're right – this is not a mission of peace," the Admiral said, "And it's that operation that has forced me to hold off the interview. Security concerns have prevented me from saying to you before now – and frankly, you've forced my hand by approximately twelve hours. This will affect your future standings with Starfleet." She held a hand up. "Let me finish – the morale of my people are important, and you are affecting that, putting their lives, and your own, at risk. Try and boost your ratings by eating at the relationship between my crew and their officers and Media Relations will make sure you have trouble finding a job related to a holocamera on this side of the Tholian Assembly. Am I clear?"

Ken recovered quickly. "Yes Admiral," he said. "I apologize, but I wasn't wrong earlier – you're the star of the picture, one of the heroes of Vega. They want the captain, not the ship."

The Admiral brought up a starchart, meaningless to Ken. "Then you're on the wrong ship right now, Ken, because it's going to be about the fleet." She sighed, and stood, pacing. "I did, however, check with Media Relations before we had this talk, and I didn't bring you up here just to threaten."

She continued, "There is an important battle coming up – why exactly I do not have time to explain now, but will later. It's… involved, and it may very well determine the fate of entire sectors. In exchange for letting Starfleet verify no classified information is being passed, you will have access to our tactical and security feeds, and I will allow you to film on the Trafalgar's bridge during the battle."

Ken's eyes fairly lit up at that. This was the bridge of a first-class starship, something that would require ninety-nine percent of the Federation four years, at least, at the single toughest educational method of study ever developed. Gift-wrapped. But he'd been offered bribes before. "All right, as long as I get to retain masters and editing is only for classified material," he said.

The Admiral nodded, "Of course – to be honest, Ken, I have no interest in infringing in your rights to express your opinion, however developed it may be."

"How it develops?" Ken asked.

"That as well," she said calmly, "In exchange for all this, however, you will refrain from asking any questions about current operations or operational characteristics of the Trafalgar for the next forty-eight hours. You don't know how a starship operates, Mister Nguyen, not yet, and we don't have time to teach you, so you're going to have to keep your eyes open and that tongue stilled. Also, if we both live, I will give you an entire duty shift for questioning."

"If we both live?" Ken asked, "Admiral, what are we getting into?"

"Right into the viper's den," Admiral Revka said grimly, "The largest battle seen in this part of space in decades. Starfleet Intelligence has finally traced the Vaadwaur misery to its source, and we're going to be facing the most advanced fighting force in the Quadrant." She smiled, tightly. "If this is disagreeable, we'll be passing a Class L planet with a small Malon outpost, and can arrange your accommodation."

He could guess, probably even hotter and stickier than where he was now, "This is too good to pass up – but tell me, Admiral, were your parents lawyers?" Admiral Revka shook her head. "Well, then you have incredible natural talent."

"And an excellent script," the Admiral said, standing. Ken blinked a little, but matched her gesture. "We'll arrange a console station at the bridge for you then, Ken. But since it isn't related to operations – you're right, it is old-fashioned:" She gestured at her face, "I got it when I got accepted to the Academy before I left home."

A stern Andorian with captain's bars and two Tellarite security officials knocked on his door the next day. The stars were still streaming by – whatever was going on, they weren't there yet. He was escorted firmly, but politely, to a sprawling command center, where he was placed in a small chair and console, mainly dark, far back from the Admiral's chair in the center, which was still empty. He sat down, set his cameras to hover, and checked his mic pickup before looking around.

The air on the bridge seemed to shimmer from all the status displays. Holographic terminals glowed in air, Starfleet personnel moving with determination, and talking with low voices. A massive rendition of the Trafalgar, festooned with status codes Ken didn't have the training to read, was on the back wall.

"Mister Nguyen, we will be tying into fleet and squadron tactical networks shortly. These two crewmen are part of the bridge security detail, but barring any boarding attempt on the bridge, they have been detailed to check after your safety," the Andorian said formally. Not comfort, Ken noted to himself. "We have just run a diagnostic on the bridge security monitors, and all feeds are running, including now. We may be unable to respond to any inquiries during combat, so do you have any questions?"

"Are you really expecting to have us boarded?" Ken asked, the cameras turning. "Isn't that a little… pre-deflector? Are we polarizing the hull plating and polishing the cutlasses?"

"Mister Nguyen, while shields can block most transporter attempts, I have learned in my career that there is little that can stop a very foolish and very determined transporter operator with enough bodies to throw at a deflector screen," the Andorian said. "The Vaadwaur have no regard for our lives and little for their own." She peered at the console chronometer and concluded, "And we'll meet them in about an hour."

Ken swallowed a little at that, throat drier than in the blaze that the Admiral called an office. "Oh, well. I'll see if I can get that in," he said, then shook himself. "No, I'm out here to do a proper feature, and that means getting in the action. I'm sure I can figure out the rest of the system. Was there anything else?"

Captain Takerra shifted uncomfortably. "Well, actually," she said and held up a PADD. Ken could clearly see one of his publicity stills on it. "It's for my sister – she wants to get into journalism and is a fan," she finished in a rush. Laughing Ken held his hands out for the stylus.

Antonine glanced at the features reporter. What had prompted a shift in focus from exposes to a bio on a Starfleet officer was beyond her, but she didn't think she would like it. But Starfleet was the flag of the Federation beyond its borders, and a free press was an important part of the Federation's interior. She preferred it to the upcoming battle though, and the privacy shield she's had mounted at his console would keep him quiet if needed.

So for the moment she was standing by his chair. Takerra still had the watch, but as normal for her, was hovering around the captain's chair while Antonine was on the bridge. She was looking like she'd found the proverbial canary, though, so something was up. Antonine didn't think her exec and flag captain had access to any specialized poisons, but it would probably be a good idea to send the reporter to medical later.

"Intelligence assets from the Alliance powers have been operating to gain information and make contact with local powers. One of these was a Hazari refitting post, and with the Vaadwaur predations depopulating worlds, they've come to an agreement to use the post to plant intelligence and serve as an operations center annoying enough the Vaadwaur are sending their main attack fleet here," Antonine lectured.

"Wait, a set piece?" Ken asked. "So – this will break them?"

"No," Antonine said, running her hand through her hair, "But it keeps them distracted – we don't have enough forces to attack their main force and their installations, and they've been informed of this."

"We don't?" Nguyen asked, leaning forward, showing more teeth than Antonine would like directed at her.

"No, but I've always felt the Federation's main strength is diplomacy even beyond what our philosophies allow us to do from a science or engineering perspective," Antonine assured. "The Vaadwaur have been assured that the local species will never be united. They are about to learn how very wrong they are. Our duty is to let that fleet do its duty. The Vaadwaur are the victims here, so destruction of the fleet is not the Alliance's priority, but we have a certain emotional distance our Delta quadrant allies don't."

"Oh, so this is going to be hit and runs?" Ken asked, dubiously, "Feinting from long range?" That didn't sound like good footage.

"No – we can't guarantee keeping them out of contact. We can't let them go to warp or slip into Underspace while their base is still active," Antonine said. "This is going to be a battle of fleets, hundreds of ships across millions of kilometers, and the real action is light years from here. The operational planning and arranging from our intelligence assets has taken most of the last month" The Admiral quirked her lips up briefly, not quite a smile. "I'm afraid we won't be at the right angle to get good footage."

Ken smiled back, sort of. "I'm interested in your reactions, we can splice together the battle footage later. And we've got the treaties signed, so the Delta powers will have good buy in. This is history to them, much more than back home," he said reflectively.

"Quite right – I will try and answer your questions, but the safety of you and my crew, and the other ships under my command, must take priority," Antonine said seriously. "Through the course of alerts, you and your hovercams may not leave the area around y our chair, or you will be ejected from the bridge. Do you understand, Mister Nguyen?" He nodded. Antonine started to spin, then caught herself, and stood facing the camera again. She raised her voice slightly and tapped her commbadge. "All hands, all ships in the seventieth wing – this is Admiral Revka. Yellow alert. Stand by for action."

The bridge erupted into a coordinated chaos as Admiral Revka strode to her seat, a litany of reports from various system controllers being reported and LCARS diagrams and repeaters shifting to display a blaze of functions. Ken kept the cameras spinning, and monologued briefly, "The massive Alliance fleet prepares for battle under Admiral Revka. The Vaadwaur have depopulated worlds, and the valiant Starfleet joins with our former enemies in the Klingon and Romulan fleets to put a stop to their vile depredations, and only her tactical genius stands between- "

A small comm panel popped open on the panel, showing Admiral Revka who was glancing out of frame before looking at him. "Just a point of order, Mister Nguyen, I'm only in command of one of our fleet wings in this battle. I'd also trust any command-trained officer in Starfleet, or from our allies' academies, to be able to competently handle a fleet action."

"What? Is it that regimented or computerized? No room for initiative or experience?" Ken asked, moving a holocamera forward.

Admiral Revka made a huffing noise. "No, Starfleet training is that comprehensive, and Starfleet traditionally relies on our ships' captains – and their initiative, even in large actions. I wouldn't say I'm irreplaceable, and experience certainly counts, but I'm what we have," she said.

Ken winced. "Sorry – I meant no offense," he apologized hastily. Antonine had turned away – it was easy to forget how accelerated warfare attrition had made officer advancement.

"Admiral," Captain Takerra reported, one hand to her ear. "Probes report heavy communication traffic from Vaadwaur Prime, and Advance Element reports their major fleet concentrations are entering Underspace. Delta Command is authorizing Case Purple."

"Verify with Admiral Tuvok," Revka ordered. "Bring us out of our holding pattern and into the system. All ships: Red Alert. Order Oracle's group to ambush position. Main viewscreen – switch to strategic view."

A grid pattern was displayed on screen, a single system in the center as dozens of icons representing the Alliance governments moved to encircle it."

"Coming out of warp," reported the ensign at helm. "Estimated six minutes to Hazari outpost."

"Good insertion," Admiral Revka said warmly, "Squadron: form up, attack pattern six. Underspace status?"

A tall Klingon woman reported, "Underspace portals still quiet – Hazari ships are entering warp."

Takerra checked her status. "They're wishing us luck," the Andorian said wryly. "Squadron signals confirmation. Other squadrons reporting success."

"Thank you – tactical view," Antonine said.

A grid pattern resolved, with a fat dot in the middle, presumably the outpost, with several smaller icons with Supremacy signals. Dozens of dots with alphanumeric codes were scattered around, slowing forming into patterns. Ken looked around. If they were as nervous as him for what was coming, none of them showed it. "Which one are we?" he asked, though no answer came immediately.

Somewhere on the bridge a console beeped. The main viewscreen showed a series of flashes originating from around the Supremacy icons, then a lot of icons spilled out, forming into vast triangles. Many icons. Hundreds of dots, maybe thousands.

"Bring us to sector grid Gamma – nine, half impulse. Realign to pattern seven and begin coordinating shield frequency optimization" Revka ordered, and she leaned forward. "They're still fighting the last war, it seems. Time until Oracle is ready?"

"Another minute. T'dell has tightbeam to her and is receiving data for countermeasures package," Takerra said, "Two minutes until intercept range." Allied patterns shifted, and Ken finally spotted the blinking yellow dot that started moving right at the Admiral's orders, leading other ships towards the Vaadwaur.

He tapped the console, and brought up some camera views – stars, the infinite variety of deep space. Pretty, but not exactly marketable. He wasn't sure where he was looking, and the starfield was slowly turning as well. He left it cycling at the moment, and asked. "What did you mean the last war?"

Antonine glancing away, looked up. "Those triangles you see are three-dimensional cones, with the heavy ships at the base. The small ships are intended to quickly encircle and immobilize enemy ships for destruction from the heavy weapons ships whose weapons have limited traversal."

"Isn't it usually easy to get away from one another in space combat?" Ken said. There were seconds until combat opened.

"Right, but the Vaadwaur technology was boosted," Antonine said, sounding quite happy to talk even as the battle was about to open. "They don't have to have their weapon arrays so limited, and if their thrusters were as good as their engines, they wouldn't need such a tightly packed formation, and their targeting systems are really easy to spoof. Really easy," she said cheerfully. "Takerra – Oracle and T'dell are cleared once Trafalgar is targeted. Trafalgar is cleared to open fire at maximum range. Full power to shields. Deflector control, stand by."

The ship suddenly shuddered, a high-pitched shriek. Ken clutched the arms of his chair as a brief flash of green light was visible. Shaking, he tapped back to that screen as the shrieks continued, rays of light tracing themselves into the distance. He then remembered that one of his interviews had been working on one of the ship's plasma arrays – Trafalgar had Republic technology too apparently.

Suddenly different colors blazed on his retinas, and the ship shook, and the stars in the distance suddenly began to multiply. "Enemy polarons firing," the Klingon reported. "Tricobolt warheads detected. Oracle is decloaking – T'dell reports probes away."

"Hold fire," Admiral Revka ordered.

"Hold fire?" Ken asked incredulously.

A dot suddenly dropped in behind the triangle on the tactical display, and suddenly, the alphanumeric scrolls started flashing wildly, before dots suddenly started blinking off the map. On his visual pickup, a supernova apparently flared in the distance. Admiral Revka grinned briefly.

"Oracle reports successful spoofing of their warhead sensors – sensor scrambling appears successful, Vaadwaur ships are realigning their targeting arrays," Takerra reported, and she briefly held her fist up triumphantly. "At least two heavy interdiction ships destroyed, one crippled. Remaining one shows evidence of massive radiation contamination, tactical analysis shows effectiveness at under twenty-five percent."

"My congratulations to both their captains for a nice piece of work – open fire, and see if you can get T'dell to get scans on that ship, Oracle will be busy," Antonine said, "That much tricobolt should have gotten them all at that range. Deflector control, standby – go for the center of mass. All ships cleared to fire."

"Bluegill?" Takerra said. Antonine nodded briefly as the ship started to shriek again.

"Well, I'm lost," Ken muttered, clutching the arms of his chair. Antonine glanced over again.

"I can't go into how, but as I said, their targeting sensors are pretty high-powered. Slipping our own signal in isn't that hard, once, though it'll be a while before we can do it again," she explained. "Their targeting discipline wasn't the best either – opened fire on anything on their scopes, even themselves." The ship shuddered briefly, and he heard something pop, or maybe explode, as several consoles flickered. "Sorry – spot overload. Now we need to continue maximizing our firepower," she turned away, "Gravity well – go." Ken swallowed.

Bolts raced in the distance, and there was a flash of something purple. On tactical view, the dots briefly clustered near the Trafalgar, and a rainbow wave of color seemed to reach into the distance, but before the dots started to vanish, they suddenly started to race away much faster

"Vaadwaur have overcharged their engines, Admiral," the Klingon reported, "Interdiction drones approaching Alliance forces – we're," the ship suddenly jolted even harder than normal, briefly whiplashing people.

"Target the drone," Revka ordered. "Begin rotating shield frequencies. Activate particle conversion matrix. Transfer power to engines – I think we all know what's coming." A series of plus-signs appeared on the tactical screen. "Ships to independent maneuvering, get out of the barrage range," she said urgently. "Hang on."

The ship lurched again, and everyone seemed to relax minutely. Ken clutched the arms a bit harder. Then suddenly, the ship lurched, shaking from all sides. Ken fell out of chair and clawed back to it.

"Hull breaches on decks seven and twelve, lateral sensors on backups – shield emitters stable, particle converter current flow kept us going – we're at forty-seven percent capacity overall, port shield down, rebuilding from other's capacity," Takerra said as the shaking slowed down.

Antonine waved that off, looking at the tactical – "Extend our shields to Phalanx – hurry!" she said.

"We're out of range," the Klingon said glumly. "The Vaadwaur definitely picked up on it – multiple ships are targeting them."

"Emergency maneuvering," the Admiral said. "N'Karon, can we intercept the warheads if we can't reach?" Admiral Revka said, twisting around. The Klingon, apparently N'Karon, shook her head. "Order them to abandon ship. Trafalgar: continue movement to pick up what we can."

A hailing frequency tone came over, "Admiral the crew is leaving, but we can get the shields realigned – we're not ready to give, "the voice suddenly cut out, and Antonine bowed her head.

"Turn us back towards the fight," she said, voice full of finality. She looked down, and her image turned to the repeater. "Are you all right, Mister Nguyen? That forehead cut doesn't look good," she said politely. Ken touched his forehead, and grimaced at the blood.

"It's all right, I don't feel it yet," he said. "Shallow face cuts can bleed a lot," he explained – she was an alien species. Still, he knew a distraction. "What happened? What was the Phalanx?"

Antonine glanced at the main screen briefly, and apparently reassured, explained. "The Phalanx was a Guardian class cruiser – the polaron barrage got lucky, and hit on the right shield frequency – they were wide open for the follow-up attacks. Takerra, how many have we picked up?"

"Two hundred and forty-seven, medical is going to triage – they were close enough there was a lot of radiation exposure," the Andorian said, antenna drooping.

Antonine frowned. "Everything we can do," she said quietly.

"That could have been us," Ken said. The admiral's eyes moved down and back.

"It may still be," she said flatly. "We're doing what we can with burst transmissions to hide which ship's the flag, but…" She shrugged, and turned back to the battle.

The battle continued, orders being given, sounds ringing back and forth through the hull, as dots shifted around on the map, occasionally vanishing, with the Alliance forces slowly contracting. Suddenly, the pace of the battle seemed to shift, and the Vaadwaur ships started to fall back.

"Signal from Admiral Tuvok," N'Karon reported. "Gaul is dead – Vaadwaur forces are being ordered to fall back – they are shutting down targeting sensors and reporting cease-fire."

Antonine slumped, looking considerably more tired and less confident than an hour ago. She glanced at tactical "Secure ship to yellow alert – release all crews to damage control and begin assembling reports. Drop weapons but not shields, and ask the Vaadwaur if they want us to recover their cripples."

"No response," Takerra said after about a minute.

"Move us in for close stands, security to standby then," Antonine said, "No reason to let them suffocate – Takerra, get a breakdown of what ships are still in shape to assist."

The viewscreen briefly flashed to show another strange alien species green skin and reflective eyes, in operations tan, a warp core in the background. "Lateral sensors off backups – impulse engines at ninety percent efficiency. We've got two burned out warp coils from that spot failure in the port nacelle, though we managed to stop the cascade into the third. Long-range sensors still off line, we're repolarizing the main deflector, so please no full impulse. Shields at twenty-three percent right now, port battery deck off-line, and hull integrity has stabilized at seventy-three percent. Environmental reports O2 reserves are nearly rebuilt."

Admiral Revka nodded, "That's excellent work," she said, then continued slowly, "Did you want a tow arranged?"

The engineer glared.

"Just asking," Antonine said teasingly. The engineer huffed and vanished.

"Admiral any reactions?" Ken asked in the silence, but no one responded at first.

"Okay – bring us to that interdictor that survived the opening wave," Antonine ordered, "Security ready, and get me a detailed life-sign scan before we head over." N'Karon nodded, pulling up a hooded viewer to run scans.

"Admiral?" Ken asked, starting to wave. Takerra caught the motion, and tapped her CO on the shoulder.

Antonine glanced at her console then over, smiling slightly.

"Is this under a privacy screen?" Ken asked indignant.

"Well, we do have a transcript, Mister Nguyen, so I didn't technically miss your questions," the Admiral began, but was interrupted.

"Enemy ship showing power surge – burning out the backup generators. There's a massive subspace wave," N'Karon said, "Target is our bridge!"

Antonine whirled towards the Klingon and stood, some sort of massive gun appearing in her hands in a shimmer of transporter effect. "Security to the bridge! Activate internal defenses," she ordered, and then bent down.

With a flare of gold, a single Vaadwaur transported to the bridge. Ken had to gape at that – it seemed a lot of effort. Then, a web of phaser light flared into being from hidden weapon points, impacting the Vaadwaur, who merely laughed, and began firing some sort of hand weapon with a staccato of sharp discharges, crew ducking as consoles exploded under the impacts. Ken ducked, as one came toward him, refracting away from his head in the privacy field before it burnt out in a squeal of static. Ken stayed on the floor, shaking from the sudden violence.

"A noble effort Admiral, but you will see how futile it is when we are all brothers under the skin!" Revka's Andorian XO lunged forward, going into a martial arts sequence before being thrown away.

Revka stood, and Ken shook his head – confused, there was a turret on the floor that hadn't been there before. It opened up with phaser fire as well, as the Admiral's squad support weapon opened up. The Vaadwaur laughed again at that, and started moving towards her.

He stopped briefly, as the dust and smoke swirling on the bridge suddenly was sucked towards the floor. "Idiotic P'taq," N'Karon said – he'd have to check the footage, but he doubted she'd ducked, and she was still tapping at her console.

"You think a little gravity will stop me?" the Vaadwaur said, then suddenly stopped, holding his side, smoke rising from the spot of the most recent impact of the phaser turret.

"Sorry," Admiral Revka said, speaking louder as her weapon started to whine, a ball of light gathering at its front, "But the Romulans let us know about that little trick." The weapon bucked, the Vaadwaur outlined in a haze of gold, and as it started to die, he was highlighted from the beams of the rest of the bridge crew, before vanishing into a haze of red energy and a whiff of smoke.

Revka moved the weapon up before it vanished in more transporter effect. "N'Karon, make sure that was the only one – check if he left anyone alive on the cruiser when that's done." The Klingon nodded, standing resolute at her station. Revka moved over and offered Ken a hand, "Mister Nguyen, any more questions about being in battle?" she asked.

Ken had nothing to say to that.

It was a few months later, Trafalgar back on patrol after helping with the sudden outbreak of battle again on Kobali Prime, and Antonine had nearly forgotten the embedded reporter when Takerra caught her in the corridor after shift, holding an isolinear chip in one hand, its shipping container in the other.

"Media Relations passed on that holofeature from our guest," the Andorian said, looking pleased.

Antonine peered, and said, "I assume if you're that smug it's either really bad or really good."

"Oh, no," Takerra said, looking offended, "I wouldn't dream of influencing your opinion ahead of time."

"I just remembered I left some intelligence briefs to read in my office," she started to protest, but the Andorian grabbed her arm and started force-marching her to the holodeck.

Having conjured up a couple of plush chairs, Takerra popped the chip into a reader as the holodeck resolved, showing a hovering starfield in mid-air, Vaadwaur ships and Federation escorts doing their best impression of an atmospheric dogfight as the teaser started.

"Andorian News is proud to feature the special report of Ken Nguyen, recorded live deep in the heart of the Delta Quadrant. Join him from the bridge of the Federation flagship,"

"Oh I thought we-"Antonine started, but Takerra shushed her. The recording continued.

"And thrill alongside side him as he faces danger at the young face of Starfleet's Hero at Vega, Antonine Revka, as this young theraspid-" A still of Antonine, right as her pulsewave was finished charging, appearing in lieu of the dramatized battle, "Rescues him from the Dragon's Jaws!" The screen changed again, to a lurid computer-generated dragon, vaguely plated like a Vaadwaur ship, snarling at the viewer

Antonine buried her face in her hands. It didn't really get better from there. The best she could say at least her crew got to show up to do some 'talking heads'. Mainly about her instead of the crew. Let alone the fleet.

Afterward, when it was finally over, Takerra said, "So, Media Relations was pleased with the buy-in for the feature, and wanted to know if you wanted to do another one?"

Antonine merely stood at that, pulled the chip from the reader, and stomped it under her heel, stalking out of the holodeck.

Takerra shrugged, and reached into the shipping container for the other four copies that had been sent. "Well, guess if she didn't want hers I can give the others to the rest of the bridge crew," Takerra mused, still grinning. They'd let it lie with Antonine eventually. Probably.

Author's note: 'Takedown' notes the main Alliance fleet is engaging the Vaadwaur fleet, allowing the hero captain to sneak through – a little bit of what's going on with that here. Space combat would probably be a little hard to take in for someone new to the job and looking more for a dramatic scoop then telling the tale of the soldiers, which seems to be Ken's point here.