Orbiting Moon Shi'ella
Alpha Centauri

Feral returned fire.

"Firing." She reported. "Impact. Their hull, 80%. Shields, 82%."

The shuttle may have only been a medical shuttle, but it was a MACO shuttle and that made all the difference. She had teeth.

P'Trell had the shuttle pitching and rolling, but it paid off. Two bolts of green plasma energy rocketed past to their starboard.

Despite the wild maneuring, Feral kept her cool and showed off her skills admirably.

"Firing." She said, "Impact. Their hull is 62%. Shields 68%. Our hull stands at 92%.

Despite P'trell's maneuvering the shuttle took a hit and shook slightly.

"Our hull stands at 82%.' Firing." Feral reported. "Impact. Their hull is 42%. Their shields are at 14% and weapons are offline."

Trip took a moment to acknowledge Feral's shooting.

"Good work, Asha" He said. "P'Trell, put me through to that shuttle."

P'Trell tapped the console quickly.

"Go ahead, Captain."

"Unknown shuttle," Trip said. "Come alongside and prepare to boarded."

Trip waited but there was no response. He didn't really expect one. He expected they would take the opportunity to disengage and run away.

They didn't do that.

"They must be taking that 'come alongside' seriously." P'Trell reported "They're coming in pretty fast."

Trip had been briefed on Romulans along with every other captain. When faced with defeat they inevitably either tried to ram their opponent or self-destruct and take them with them.

It was clear which decision the shuttle had made.

"Evasive maneuvers" Trip ordered. "They're trying to ram us."

P'Trell didn't question his orders, he simply threw the shuttle into another wild barrel-roll. The forward viewcreen showed the enemy shuttle blasting past them to starboard.

"Firing." Feral said. "Impact. Their hull is at 30%. That was my last shot at taking out their propulsion before they turn into us again."

Indeed, the enemy shuttle turned quickly, tucking its ass-end safely out of Feral's targeting, coming at them again from only 5,000 kilometers. Practically point-blank range at the speeds both shuttles were going.

On the viewscreen, the shuttle was training smoke from the beating Feral had given it. But it was still a surprise when it suddenly exploded, casting out debris and fire in a ball of destruction.

Replaced by the forward hull of the Challenger.

The Challenger had rammed them.

Trip was out of seat instantly, going forward to access communications himself. He keyed in Starfleet standard frequency.

"Challenger," He said. "What's your status?"

"Our hull's at 86%. "Mitchell reported."Sensors are degraded and weapons are still offline."

A mere 2% reduction in hull polarization. Built to withstand beam weapons and high powered torpedoes, the enemy shuttle's collision with the hull had barely been a blip.

"Roger that, Mitchell." Trip said. "Thank Abrams for me. That was some damn good flying. Make ready, we're coming in to dock."

"Better make that an emergency dock, Captain. We're not detecting anything under cloak but that shuttle had to come from somewhere."

"Good point," Trip replied. "Stand ready. Tucker out."

Trip dropped back to strap himself in. Emergency docking could be nothing short of treacherous. They'd just have to trust that P'Trell could dock both gentle and quick.

P'Trell docked every bit as gently and quickly as Trip expected. From the shuttlebay to the bridge was a long hike so he and the entire alpha bridge crew sprinted there. Trip had yet to get a sitrep on system-wide forces.

From Mitchell he learned that the Romulan force, with one warbird and four frigates remaining, had fallen back, out of the system. Local Starfleet forces, composed of one Daedalus class, one Intrepid and two Neptunes, were now coving Alpha Centauri IV.

From the assorted captains he learned his fears were confirmed. Everyone recognized that Romulans backing out of a fight was unusual to say the least. The common consensus was that they had fallen back to receive reinforcements. If that was the case defense forces could well be outmatched.

With several hours having passed since the Romulans had fallen back, there seemed to be no imminent threat. Trip dismissed alpha shift and left the ship in the hands of beta, who had performed admirably so far, and retreated to his quarters.

T'Pol followed.

When Trip entered his quarters and turned, he found her there, her first two fingers held out to him. Trip wasted no time returning the gesture, touching and caressing along with T'Pol. This was the ozh'esta, the Vulcan finger embrace, and it was wonderful.

Trip felt the stress of the day fall away. He sensed T'Pol experienced the same thing.

Without warning, T'Pol reached and connected with the contact points on his face. That could mean only one thing. He was in for a rough ride. T'Pol rarely made love, but when she did she did so aggressively.

Trip knew the root cause here. She nearly lost him down on the that had stirred up her possessive nature.

Trip did his part, holding his own and performing admirably, in his opinion. T'Pol languishing across this body, he considered a reward. She was amazingly warm, her body temperature noticeably higher than a human's.

The events on the moon caught up with him. That and the excretion of making love to T'Pol lured him to sleep alongside her.

END EPISODE