Star Trek: Wings of the Renaissance

A Star Trek fanfiction by Andrew Joshua Talon

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan-based work of prose. Star Trek is the property of CBS and Paramount. Please support the official release.


USS Ikubi, Curry-class Escort Carrier, NCC-42551

Setlik System

2357


The Curry-class was a member of the vast Excelsior-class variant family, so the corridors and rooms all seemed to call back to the times of Kirk, Sulu, and the other legends of Starfleet. Shran couldn't help thinking of how they must have felt, when they were newly minted ensigns, sitting in a mission briefing. Did they feel the same mix of fear and anticipation? Did they also sit up, trying not to look like a nervous Zabathu trapped in a pen? He didn't know.

His fellow pilots, most more experienced than him, were chattering away. Bustling and a bit rowdy. Frii'Kan Hshiu, a tall Betalgeusian, told a raunchy joke that left his Tellarite co-pilot, Agram, and his human wingman, Ivan Nikitovich, laughing hysterically. Selma Cronan, a human female senior survey pilot about to transfer out to a science ship in the Beta Quadrant, was rolling her eyes like the classmate who gets the joke but thinks its stupid. Hrwar Teton, a Caitian, was reviewing his PADD while his tail twitched in what might have been nerves. Eve Sharp, his senior human pilot with whom he flew their ship, was giving him an encouraging smile.

"Ease up," she mouthed. His antenna twitched, and he sat at attention.

"Yessir," he replied automatically. Her smile grew, and she reached out to bat his shoulder.

"I mean really ease up," she insisted. "You'll give the Skipper a run for his money at this rate."

"Commander Turix is never stiff," he replied instantly. Eve smirked, holding his gaze. Shran sank into the seat, trying to untense. Eve nodded.

"Little better," she admitted. She glanced at the doors, seeing them open. She stood up. "Skipper on deck!"

The conversations and horseplay ended immediately, everyone on their feet and eyes up front. Commander Turix, a tall vulcan with a dark complexion, walked in. As usual for a briefing, he was in full flight gear-suit sealed up and ready, his helmet held by his side. He walked up to the front of the briefing room, and turned precisely to face them all. He nodded, his eyes sweeping the entire room's complement.

"At ease," he ordered, and everyone sat down. "We have received a garbled distress call from the Setlik III colony. We are due to enter orbit of the colony in the next twenty-two minutes, thirty-three seconds." Turix looked to his padd, and pressed a few buttons. The display screen behind him changed, showing a tactical plot of the system. "Long range sensors have verified the presence of Cardassian warp signatures, with large areas of subspace jamming. Concentrated at the L1 and L4 points around Setlik III and its two moons. Enemy force composition is unknown: Operations and the science section suggest the presence of two capital vessels and multiple support vessels, perhaps as many as ten. We do know that ground forces have landed-The distress call specified as much. Communications were lost seven minutes and twenty-nine seconds ago, passive data links were lost ten seconds later." Turix looked up, his serene expression mildly tensed.

"Based on previous encounters with the Cardassians at other border colonies, you can expect high usage of decoy probes and drones to conceal not just their numbers but to divide our fire. The Cardassians seldom engage our vessels without a numerical advantage, so the captain is already anticipating we will be outnumbered. The Miranda-class destroyer Gral has arrived and is accompanying us as escort: The New Orleans-class frigate Rutledge is enroute at maximum warp and will reach us two minutes, plus or minus thirty seconds after we arrive in high orbit over Setlik III. Our orders are to sweep the orbitals for enemy vessels and engage them, while providing overhead cover for relief forces to make their landings. Do not stray more than 300 thousand kilometers from the capital ships: Cardassians are reportedly good at ambushes. Challenge any vessel that enters the area:"

His voice became… Somewhat softer. "Do not fire until you have visually identified them, as there may be Federation civilian vessels attempting to enter to render aid to the colony. We have already lost several citizens today: I do not want any more Federation casualties."

"Yessir," the room replied, almost as one.

Turix looked directly at Shran, and he sat up a lot straighter. "Ensign Shran, you will be my co-pilot for this mission."

Shran started, his jaw dropping. "Ah-Sir-That is-"

"Lieutenant Raines is still in sickbay from the injuries sustained in the survey mission over Camus II. Lieutenant Sharp has recommended your skills to me and I have found your performance record satisfactory."

Shran nodded quickly. From the Commander, that was the Vulcan equivalent of high praise and he felt his nervousness ease off a bit. He found himself a bit annoyed by Eve's smirk though.

"Any questions?" Turix asked the room at large. There were none. "Dismissed."

Twenty minutes later, Shran was running through the final flight checks on Commander Turix's own Peregrine-fighter, sitting in the middle of the large, through-deck hanger bay. He'd gone over everything at least three times, trying to divert his nerves into something productive. He looked up at the sound of a foot on the wing, and nodded in respect to the Vulcan commander.

"Sir. The preflight checks are complete and the outside inspections are finished. We are ready to go," he reported in as even a tone as he could. Turix nodded.

"Good." He glanced over Shran's console, nodding again. "You completed the LCARS interface training, I see."

"Yes sir," Shran said, smiling a bit. "I'm sorry if the interface isn't quite what the regs asked, but-"

"The regulations specify that the interface should be laid out for ease of use. You have done that to make yourself more efficient. Do not apologize," Turix said, his monotone… A bit more gentle than usual? It was so difficult to tell with Vulcans. Shran nodded back.

"Thank you sir."

Turix sat down in the front seat, fastening his helmet. "Comms check," he said over the internal communications system.

"Comms online, showing green," Shran replied, as the canopy slowly closed, sealing shut with a comforting, mechanical thunk. Turix ran through his own checks, his own screens showing green. The Vulcan commander's helmet inclined-Almost like a nod to himself.

"Photon torpedoes?" Turix asked.

"Six Type VI loaded. Safeties on," Shran reported.

"Good. Keep them locked until further notice-They're too dangerous to let loose with allies in range," Turix stated. Shran nodded, knowing the reason but repetition was the keystone of learning all this. Until it was made instinct, he wouldn't be annoyed at being treated like the rookie he was.

"Ibuki, this is Bunyip Squadron," Turix spoke to the comms, "Sehlat reporting. Ready to launch."

"Bunyip squadron, you are cleared to launch. Launch when ready," the operations officer replied. Ahead, the large clamshell hanger doors slowly parted, the forcefield keeping the atmosphere in glowing at the edges of the portal out into space. Ahead, they could see the blue white form of an M-class planet: Setlik III. And if Shran squinted slightly, he could see the outline of another Federation starship far ahead in a lower orbit.

"Sehlat, I've got visual on the Rutledge," he reported. Turix nodded at his callsign.

"Acknowledged Icebreak. Once we're out, establish IFF link and patch into sensor network," he ordered. The Vulcan activated the thrusters on the new fighter, and took them out through the portal with only the mildlest of bumps and shakes. They shot out into the black, the shields of the Ibuki dropping just long enough to let them pass, before going right back up again. Shran was in a sea of sensor information, one he quickly sorted through to find a coherent picture.

"USS Rutledge is transporting away teams. No sign of Cardassian ships for ten thousand kilometers… Twenty thousand…Lot of jamming, stand by..." His sensors beeped, and he immediately zeroed in on the source of the report. "Contact bearing 078, mark 225. Speed, one quarter impulse, low energy output. Seems to be on a course for the colony."

"Bunyip One, this is Bunyip Two," Eve's reassuring voice came over the comms link. "We see it too."

"Hail them," Turix ordered. Shran sent out a standard greeting, and frowned.

"No response," he replied, adjusting himself in his seat. The Ibuki made another call.

"Ibuki to Bunyips One and Two, check it out. All other fighters, form a defensive perimeter around us," the captain ordered. Turix turned and hit full impulse power, the little fighter's change in momentum pushing Shran back in his seat. He kept his eyes on the sensors, checking everything he could. He grimaced.

"There's a lot of interference," he said. "I can't localize it."

"Keep trying Shran. The attack is less than thirty minutes old, they couldn't have gone far," Turix ordered, adjusting their course a bit towards the bright star that was the contact. Out of the corner of his eye Shran could see Eve's fighter-flying alongside.

The star grew into a boxy looking vessel-A Federation cargo hauler, and a fairly large one. Turix hailed them again.

"This is Commander Turix of the Federation starship USS Ibuki, identify yourselves," Turix stated. There was nothing but silence. "Turix to unidentified vessel, respond."

"Another contact, 210 degrees, mark 039-It's above the Ibuki!" Shran shouted. The vessel in front of them exploded, the flash nearly blinding Shran and the shockwave striking their fighter across the bow like the slap of a giant. Turix struggled with the controls ahead as they spun away. Shran focused on the sensors-He saw new contacts emerging, from underneath the Federation cargo ship, headed right for-

"Bunyip 2! Lieutenant Sharps! Incoming! Bogies, incoming!" Shran shouted. The fighter continued to spin out, giving Shran only brief glimpses of what was happening. Brief snapshots he could never forget.

Dark, amber vessels with glowing red disruptor cannons flying out of the debris and plasma fires of the destroyed ship. Them closing on Eve's fighter, which was already trying to evade. The same vessels opening fire, unleashing a merciless storm of disruptor fire. The fighter exploding, even as Eve shouted something over the comms-

"Lieutenant! Eve! EVE!" Shran bellowed. The sensors told him the full story, to underline the terrible flashes: Bunyip 2 was gone.

"All fighters, recall, recall! We are under attack! Repeat, this is Ibuki, we need support, we are under attack-!" The captain's voice came over the comms.

"Ibuki, we respond," Turix said. "Shran. Shran!" He raised his voice, and Shran's eyes were dragged from the debris field that was… Was…

"Sir!" He managed. He looked at his screens. "Fighters closing on the Ibuki, from above and below!"

Turix engaged the impulse drive, racing after the Cardassian fighters. Already, numerous fighters were striking at the carrier-From above, while the fighters that had erupted from the transport were accelerating right at her. Only a few fighters had launched, and they were engaging the Cardassians as best they could. Shran briefly wondered why the Rutledge and the Gral weren't helping, but the sensors revealed the obvious-Both vessels were exchanging fire with large, manta-shaped Cardassian cruisers.

The phasers, already charged, locked onto the nearest Cardassian fighter. Turix's voice was even.

"Firing phasers," he stated. The golden beams arced out, striking the fighter. It took the hit on its shields, which flickered out. Another phaser shot lanced through the fighter's impulse drive, and a plasma explosion erupted from it. The whole vessel was soon consumed, and the other fighters broke out of the line of fire. Turix held back, seeing the fighters turning back towards him.

"Now," he simply stated, impulse drives at full. He plunged straight for one of the Cardassian pilots, the other fighters attempting to circle around behind the Peregrine. Turix stayed on the course, a collision course. Shran gripping his controls tightly, trying to stay calm, knowing the commander was not suicidal-but who could tell beneath that Vulcan stoicism-?

"Breaking," he stated, dodging out of the way of the disruptor beam. He swung the fighter around, keeping its nose pointed for the belly of the Cardassian fighter as they shot past. Shran pulled the trigger, and the fighter was raked with phaser blasts at close range. Shran didn't see it, but the sensors confirmed the vessel erupted into fire as its impulse drives went up.

"Remaining fighters are closing," Shran warned. Turix nodded.

"Acknowledged. Stand by," he stated. The Ibuki began to grow in their viewscreen, larger and larger. Phaser and disruptor fire filled the sky as the starship and her flock engaged the swarming amber fighters. Shran saw the four fighters behind them accelerate even harder, their impulse engines burning brightly on his sensor panel.

"Sir, they're-"

"I see them," Turix said. He flipped the fighter around, letting momentum keep them moving as he lined up his shot. The fighters didn't break-They just kept on accelerating as Turix fired phasers.

One beam lashed out, striking the fighter on the lower left. It immediately burst into flames, spinning out along the path of its momentum. The other three though dodged them with barely any effort. So easy to explode, so easy to destroy, but why? Why were these taking so little to destroy…?

"Ibuki to Bunyip 1, we're launching more backup, stand by," the captain's voice spoke in their ears. It was at this moment though that Shran broke through the jamming… And saw just what the Cardassian fighters were carrying.

"No! Ibuki, don't! Don't! Keep your shields up-!" He called frantically, but it was too late.

Dozens of photon torpedoes erupted from the Cardassian fighters-An almost beautiful, but terrible display, like flowers blooming and then bursting into flames. Turix, trained on instinct, went to full reverse and tried to take them out of the maelstrom.

"Jam their tracking systems, Shran!" Turix ordered. Even in his shock, Shran fell back on his own training-Turning the deflectors of the little fighter to full, targeting the missiles with as much electromagnetic energy as he could to jam them, fry their circuits-

But they were too close. The photon torpedoes flew true, just as the Ibuki's shields dropped to let loose another fighter into the conflict.

The first two slammed into the open hanger bay doors, exploding and engulfing the bay in flames. The ship shook as more torpedoes slammed into its secondary hull, many others flying uselessly by, and more explosions began to rock the vessel. From within, plasma fires erupted, shooting out of the bay doors like a great dragon erupting fire into space. Windows, hull sections, entire decks were blown from the sides of the ship, a nacelle hemorhaging plasma out into the vaccuum. Shran could see people-Bodies, twisted up like puppets caught in their strings, silently screaming.

The other Cardassian fighters let loose their own torpedoes, even as the Federation fighters kept firing on their adversaries, trying to protect their mortally wounded homebase. They too kept jamming away, even firing phaser shots to try and destroy them. It wasn't enough.

The Ibuki bent in the center of its secondary hull, like a great beast convulsing in agony. Then, it split, the hull shattering as the warp core exploded into a massive fireball. Pieces of debris shot out like shrapnel, and Turix did everything he could to dodge the pieces. He went into dizzying manuevers, flipping the fighter every way he could imagine, the world outside a blur. They were being pelted by projectiles, the shield numbers dropping faster and faster. All the while, Turix continued calmly speaking to Shran.

"Shran, scan for survivors and escape pods. They won't survive in this. Scan for-"

A piece of metal, like a jagged, twisted sword, slammed through the transparent aluminum canopy like it was made of paper-And right through Turix's chest. The Vulcan convulsed, sputtering something in his helmet… And went still.

Shran vaguely recalled someone screaming. As though it was someone else. As though everything was a distant, bad dream. But the shuddering impact the Peregrine took from another piece of debris thrust him back into his body, and back into his present reality.

A reality where his ship had been destroyed. His mentor and friend was dead. His commander was dead, right in front of him. His fighter was spinning out of control, damaged, in a debris field. And his enemies…

He could see the fighters closing on him from above. They were locking weapons. He gripped his controls, hard. He tried to knock himself loose, but the Peregrine was tangled up in blackened framework that had belonged to the Ibuki: He could hit the impulse engines, but he would only succeed in ripping his fighter apart. He lifted his eyes, frantically, back up to the fighters. His hearts pounded, as his antenna twitched.

Was this it then? The moment he entered the Eternal Rest? The end of his mortal life and the beginning of another? In such an injustice? In such… An outrage?

It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. It was cold and empty… Shran took deep breaths, not sure how long the life support would last or if it was one of the systems even still functioning. He looked back up at the enemy fighters. He gripped his trigger.

Not like this… Not like this… Not like this… Please… If anyone's out there… If I am to die today, please… He bowed his head, shaking in rage and grief and despair.

Let them die first!


To be continued...