Chapter 9: The Long Road Home
Lieutenant Commander Blake Marion entered the bridge and walked towards the center chair, his chair. Lieutenant Rosh rose without a word and Marion sat down. In front of him Ensign Singer was at the helm, and to his left Lieutenant Junior Grade Franks was manning the port station. The seats of both the junior officers were lower than the command chair, placed in pits at the points of the diamond shaped bridge. For the first time Marion realized the subtle subliminal message in having the command seat positioned physically higher than the other chairs. "Status." Marion said. The response was immediate.
"All systems nominal. EMCON is in effect, only passive sensors and communications active." Franks reported.
"On course for Starbase 375, speed warp five point three, ETA twenty-eight hours." Jordan reported from the helm.
Marion spoke quietly to his XO, "Mr. Rosh, remind me, what is EMCON?"
"Emission Control, sir. We are limiting any type of energy emission that could give away our position to the enemy." Rosh explained in an equally hushed tone.
"Hopefully we'll slip by." Marion said. He then smiled and addressed the whole bridge. "Just over a day and we'll be home. I'm hesitant to celebrate too early given our propensity to find trouble in recent days. However, the manner in which this crew has reacted to these challenges, the manner in which you have reacted to these challenges, I am optimistic that we will be home tomorrow."
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"Are you feeling any discomfort?" Sovek asked as he scanned Kizmet with a medical tricorder.
"My shoulder is still a little tender, but there is no pain." Kizzy said, lying on the medical table. "And it feels kind of odd being the one on the table."
"Your wound is healing properly. As for your odd feeling, I am sure it will pass once we are through." The Vulcan assured her.
"Sovek, that was a joke."
Sovek raised an eyebrow. "Then I am certain a more emotional species would have responded to your witticism with a laugh."
Kizzy chuckled and wondered if the Vulcan realized he had just made a witticism of his own. But her smile faded when her thoughts wondered to more serious matters. "Sovek, what happened with Esco?" She asked.
"He was vaporized." Sovek said matter-of-factly.
"I meant, was he a good man? Was he really trying to cure a disease?"
Sovek reflected on the question before answering. "I don't know."
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"Lights." Hudson said as he entered the darkened quarters.
"Whose there?" Chief Reilly barked from his desk.
"It's Ensign Hudson, Chief." The engineer laid the plate and mug he was carrying on the desk in front of the Chief. "I thought you might be hungry."
"Shouldn't you be putting this bucket of bolts back together, sir?"
"I was. Since we're at EMCON, I was looking for places I could cut power to, so our energy signature would be smaller. I notice energy use from your quarters but no lights." Hudson explained. "And I figured you'd be getting hungry held up in here."
"And how did you figure that?" Reilly asked.
"You're supposed to be in sickbay. I doubted you would venture to the galley, risking recapture once you made your escape."
"With my pretty little Doc gettin' shot, I didn't think I'd be missed." Reilly gently probed the plate and mug with his fingers. "So what did you bring me?"
"A roast beef sandwich and black coffee." Hudson answered. "According to the computer, this is what you order most from the replicator."
"I probably couldn't even find my way to the galley anymore." Reilly sighed. "Not like this."
"I doubt that Chief. You know this boat like the back of your hand. You could've found your way around blind folded before your accident. Heck, you found your way back to your quarters."
"Stop trying to cheer me up, sir. Maybe I can get around the ship, big whoop. I still can't do my job. I'm useless, I'm nothing but ballast."
"You figured out how to get me and everyone else stranded on that Kelvanite planet back to Nightingale. Franks said you realized that the skipper, the XO, and the rest of us were aboard Sloan's ship. You're still a valued member of this crew, can't you see that?"
"I can't see anything!" Reilly snapped back. "But I can help you with your power signature. Computer, shut off the damn lights."
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Franks checked the signal a second time. It didn't make sense, and he did not want to report a communications glitch as something more serious. The signal repeated, and it was undeniable. "Lieutenant Commander Marion, we're receiving a distress call."
"From who?" Marion was as surprised as Franks.
"It's pretty garbled, but definitely Federation. I might be able to clean it up a bit." Franks reported.
"Can you put it on screen?" Rosh asked.
Franks tapped a few controls and a static filled image of a battle torn bridge appeared on the viewscreen. The audio was unintelligible at first, but the image, fading in and out, revealed a woman sitting in the center of the bridge. In front of her sat the ship's operation's officer and helmsman at their respective stations. Even through the static she was obviously a Starfleet Captain.
Jordan was stunned. He could not describe the feeling that overcame him. It was hope and disappointment all at once, a stifled optimism and a surreal malaise.
"This is captain…of the USS…Dominion Battle…could use some help…" Words began to break through the static as Franks refined the filter.
"What ship?" Marion asked.
"I couldn't make it out, sir." Rosh answered.
"It's the Noble." Jordan was as sure of it as he was sure that Jacob Millen was manning the ship's helm.
"But the Noble was destroyed. It said so in the message Torr intercepted." Marion said.
"We were also on that list." Rosh reminded him. "The Noble must have been caught behind the lines, like we were."
"I have the full message now." Franks reported.
The image reappeared in tighter focus, and the female Captain spoke again. "This is Captain Taylor of the USS Noble. We've been ambushed by a Dominion Battleship. If anyone's out there, we could use some help." The message ended and the viewscreen reverted back to the image of stars streaking by at warp speed.
The officers on the bridge all turned towards their Commanding Officer. Marion leaned back in his chair uneasily. His mind was blank, what could he do? "Mr. Rosh?" He finally said.
"The Noble is a Galaxy Class starship, very powerful. If all things were equal she might have a fighting chance one on one with a Dominion Battleship. But she has been behind the lines at least as long as we have." Rosh thought for moment then added. "I doubt she is in a winning battle."
"What difference could we make?" Marion asked, almost under his breath.
"We are not a combat vessel, sir." Rosh said.
"Could we warn someone else?" Marion searched for options.
Franks switched to long range sensors. "There's no one is range, sir."
Marion nodded. He stood up and paced to the back of the back of the bridge. "We're only a day from home." He turned and paced the other direction. "We're only a hospital ship." He stopped when he was behind his chair again. He ran his hand across the head rest. The other chairs on the bridge were lower than his. The Captain's chair was set apart, isolated, alone. "This ship's mission is one of life." Marion sighed. He looked up, back at the faces waiting for his decision. "And we're not going to let those people die."
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Jordan walked down the corridor staring at the bare metal deck. At the Academy he had read the final logs Starship Captains had recorded before they charged into an un-winnable battle. Almost all of them had walked the corridors of their doomed vessels, contemplating what was to come. But Jordan's thoughts did not dwell on how he would fare in the impending battle with the Dominion ship. His thoughts were focused on a much greater struggle, a conflict not his own.
"Jordo!"
"Hey Hud." Jordan said softly.
Hudson patted his friend on the back as he caught up with him. "I thought you'd be on the bridge."
"Franks told me to get some rest. Said he got sleep pretty recently, and he wanted me sharp. Pretty decent of him really."
"I just talked to Rosh. We came up with a plan. It's a little wild, but I don't think it's nearly as crazy as what we've done the past week and a half."
"Funny, it seems longer."
"Worried about the battle?" Hudson asked with concern.
"It's not that." Jordan replied. "The ship we're going to help, it's the Noble. It's Kizzy's fiancée's ship."
"He's alive? Jordan, I'm…" Hudson searched for the words. "I don't know what I am, I mean that's a messed up situation."
Jordan nodded. "What if somehow we survive this and Jacob doesn't? She's already lost him once Hud. I don't know if she could stand loosing him again."
"We'll worry about that after. You should rest."
"Yeah." Jordan sighed. "But I have something to do first."
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"How long?" Marion asked upon hearing the door to his quarters swoosh open. He did not even turn to greet his visitor. He just stood in front of his window, staring at the stars streaking by.
"Twenty-five minutes." Rosh reported. "The patient volunteers are being medically cleared in sickbay.
"Are there enough?"
"Major Riggs said he wanted fourteen men, including himself. We've had to turn some away. Every soldier that could walk volunteered, even a few that couldn't."
"I feel I may breach the hull with my gaze if I stare out that window any harder." Marion said finally turning to his executive officer. "Besides, I'm not finding my answers there."
"The window gives you answers, sir?" Rosh was perplexed.
"No, not the window, the stars beyond the window." Marion explained. "There is an old superstition on Earth, that the stars hold all the answers. At one time it was thought that they could even predict the future. But being here among them, I have found more questions than answers."
"What answers are you looking for?"
"We could be destroyed before the day is out. With us the knowledge of Esco, Sloan, and the rumored bio-weapons would also be destroyed. And no one would ever know how heroically this crew has performed under the most adverse of conditions. Would the Federation be served better if I ordered this ship to turn back towards Starbase 375? Are we doing the right thing?"
"I am no Doctor, but being aboard this ship I have learned a thing or two about medicine. One lesson in particular is that it is impossible to cure a wide spread disease all at once. It has to start with saving just one individual. For all the fame and glory that comes with curing an epidemic, in the end it all comes down to one life, one stand in which victory or defeat determines all that is to follow."
"But is this risk necessary? Is this a battle that needs to be fought?"
"Have you ever walked away from saving a life?"
"Thank you Mr. Rosh, for helping me justify my decision."
"With all due respect, sir. There never was a decision."
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The battle had begun. Jordan knew what he wanted, but he also knew what he had to do. When it came down to it, he was a creature of duty, like all good Starfleet officers. And while his inexperience and naiveté sometimes delayed him from finding the correct course of action, he always found it in the end. When fighting the ship, from a helmsman's perspective, it is not nearly enough to know how to put your vessel exactly where you want it to be. Anticipating how other ships will respond to your movements is just as important. Jordan slowed, and maneuvered into position. He braced himself for the first volley.
"Jordan, I was hoping I'd see you." Kizzy gave him a sheepish smile. "I wanted to wish you luck."
"You've heard?" Jordan asked.
"You sound nervous."
"I'm not sure if we can save the ship."
"I know you've gotten me through some tough situations. Whoever is on that ship is lucky to have you helping them." Kizzy's old sense of optimism was creeping back into her voice.
"You don't know?" Jordan asked.
"Know what Jordan?"
"The ship we're going to help, it's the Noble. Jacob is alive."
Kizzy's jaw dropped open and her eyes grew wide. She blinked and a single tear rolled down one cheek. Without warning she threw her arms around Jordan's neck. "This is wonderful!"
When they finally broke their embrace Jordan saw Kizmet smiling in pure bliss, wiping tears of joy from her eyes. "I'm happy for you." He said, hoping that one day he could be.
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"I don't need anymore scans or time to recover or any of your medical opinions!" The patient was becoming increasingly agitated. "I'm going on this mission, Vulcan!"
Doctor Sovek ignored the man's protest and continued his examination. "The ligaments in your shoulder still have not fully healed. If they tear you will be in excruciating pain."
"I'll take that chance." The man said as Sovek grabbed him by the arm. "Hey! What are you doing?"
The Vulcan Doctor pressed a hypospray into his patient's injured soldier. "This should last for the next twelve hours. If the ligaments do tear you will be quite aware of it, but you will still be able to fight."
"So you're not sidelining me?" The patient asked, caught off guard by Sovek's actions.
"If this mission does not succeed, torn ligaments will be the least of your concerns." Sovek replied as he picked up a PADD and designated the patient medically cleared for duty.
Both patient and Doctor looked up when they heard "May I have your attention" echo throughout sickbay over the comm. system. The speaker was Ensign Hudson, who was standing at the forward end of the bay. He held a small rod between his thumb and index finger. He raised it over his head, so it could be seen clearly by all around. "This is a viridium rod, they are being passed around to everyone on the away team. Do not loose it. If the Jem'Hadar scramble our comm. signals, these rods will be the only way to get a transporter lock to bring us back."
Major Riggs stepped forward. "Everyone I assigned to team alpha will be with Ensign Hudson and myself. Team Bravo will be lead by First Lieutenant Shay, and you will be escorting Crewman Doral to the objective. Form up in your teams, and the Engineers will brief the mission."
There was a quiet murmur floating around the space as the soldiers of MN-1375 that had been medically cleared collected their viridium and found their team leaders. A gray haired man with a blue collar peeking out from beneath his Starfleet uniform stood watching from the door. He walked over the Ensign Hudson and tapped him on the shoulder. "Ensign, could you open up that comm. channel again, and one to the rest of the ship."
"Yes sir, Commander Marion." Hudson replied, and hit a few controls on sickbay's main panel.
Marion turned to the crowd and cleared his throat. He was slightly surprised as cough echoed over the speakers in the large space. "All hands, this is Lieutenant Commander Blake Marion. As of now we are a day's travel from Federation space, but that is not where we are headed. We are responding to a distress call from a follow Starfleet vessel trapped behind the lines. The Nightingale is not a combat vessel, but she does excel in another area, saving lives. As a Doctor I have pledged to do no harm. It is not enough to simply avoid inflicting damage; if we are presented with the opportunity to assist those in need we must take it. Ironically, today the patients will save the Doctors as well as our compatriots in distress. Patient volunteers from MN-1375 will be carrying out a mission that will save lives where my medical staff's skills cannot. I wish you all luck, and I thank you for following me into harm's way. I never imagined I would hear myself uttering these words: red alert, prepare for battle."
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"Are we in communications range?" Marion asked as he entered the bridge.
"Yes, sir." Rosh said, standing up from the command chair. "We've set up a narrow band line of sight subspace channel. We'll be able to hail the Noble with out alerting the Dominion Battleship to our approach."
Marion sat down in his chair. "Open the channel."
"Open, sir." Franks reported from the starboard station.
"USS Noble, This is Lieutenant Commander Blake Marion, Commanding Officer, USS Nightingale." A moment passed then the woman from the distress call appeared on the viewscreen.
"Nightingale, I'm Captain Taylor. It's good to hear a friendly voice again." The bridge shook as she said this. She quickly dulled out orders to return fire and take evasive maneuvers before turning back to the viewscreen. "My helmsman tells me you're a hospital ship. We need combat assistance, not medical care. I must recommend you withdraw."
"Noted." Marion said. "We're approximately five minutes from your position. We have a plan, but we'll need you to disrupt the Battleship's shields."
Captain Taylor listened intently as Marion quickly laid out the plan. She nodded and smiled, then looked to her operations officer. "A tachyon burst from the main deflector?"
"The deflector is crossed circuited up the wazzu. If we jimmy with it, it could fail completely." A Commander sitting forward and to the left of her replied. "The science lab has some portable tachyon emitters for research. We could fit them to a few torpedoes."
"You've got five minutes Mr. Elliot, get it done." Captain Taylor commanded.
"Roger that, Ma'am." Elliot was already halfway to the turbolift.
"Marion you are either the most brilliant or the most foolish Skipper I have ever met. I'm banking on brilliant, but if I'm wrong at least no one will be around to say I told you so." Taylor chuckled, although she seemed half serious.
"I have a fine crew, they won't disappoint." Marion said. "We'll see you in five minutes."
"Noble will be ready." Taylor assured him.
"Lieutenant Millen." Jordan interrupted. "I wanted you to know, Kizmet is doing fine."
Even as the rest of the bridge crew grimaced at the tremors sent through the Noble by another volley of fire from the battleship, her helmsman smiled broadly. "Thanks, that means a lot." Jacob Millen said.
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Commander Elliot was in a dead sprint for the torpedo magazine. Behind him two science officers he had found on the way to the research labs strained to keep up. Each of the three officers hugged a barely portable tachyon generator to their chest.
As Elliot rounded the last corner to the magazine he heard a crash followed by a curse from one of the science officers. He turned to see one of the men sprawled out on the floor. The man had tripped, and sent his generator tumbling as he fell. The controls on the bulkward box were blinking erratically.
"Leave it!" Elliot commanded, and took off again.
He entered the magazine huffing, and sweaty. He put the generator on the floor, and gestured towards one of the weapons on the loading rack. "Get the panel off that torpedo. We have to remove the warhead." He ordered a stunned crewman, who jumped into action despite his surprise. The science officers then burst into the room with the other generator. "Computer, time?" Elliot barked.
"Two minutes and fifty-seven seconds have elapsed since activation of this timer." The not quite feminine voice of the computer reported.
Elliot heaved up the generator he had been carrying, and positioned it over the cavity in the torpedo that had held the recently removed warhead. "Time's a-wasting fellas."
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The picture that appeared on the viewscreen as the Nightingale dropped out of warp was one that Jordan recognized. While the image of a Galaxy Class Starship and a Dominion Battleship locked in combat was not one he had physically witnessed with his own eyes, he had seen it many times before in his dreams. The dreams he had as a Cadet before he was assigned to a hospital ship. The dreams he had before that ship had been trapped behind the lines.
In those dreams Jordan was helming the mighty Galaxy Class ship, and his natural ability as a born helmsman lead the ship to heroics and victory. Loss was always on the Dominion's side. A Federation defeat was unfathomable.
Sitting behind the helm of the Nightingale, plunging towards the fiery red phaser beams from the Noble, and the bursts of brilliant blue energy from the Battleship's disruptors, Jordan did not feel as he had thought he would in his dreams. He did not feel fear, at least not the kind one would expect when joining the losing side of a battle. He felt in control and surprisingly calm as he always did behind the helm. However, he did not feel the lust for combat that had haunted his childish dreams. He knew now that loss was inevitable, that defeat on some level would be experienced on both sides of the conflict, and that victory was the only thing that could elude both the Federation and the Dominion.
"Time to target?" Rosh asked.
"Twenty seconds." Jordan replied.
Marion looked to Franks. "The Battleship's shields?"
"Seventy percent and holding." Franks reported. "Sensor readings confirmed, the Battleship is the same one we faced after escaping the badlands."
"The Noble better do something fast." Marion muttered.
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"Where are those torpedoes Mr. Elliot?" Captain Taylor's question came over the comm.
"No, no, no!" Elliot snapped at one of the science officers. "You have to connect this lead here."
He huffed and tapped his comm. badge. "Almost there Captain."
"Almost doesn't cut it, we need those torpedoes now!"
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"Ten seconds to transporter range." Singer reported.
"Noble, if you you're planning on doing something, now would be the time." Marion said nervously over the comm.
"They're not ready. We're not going to make it. We're going to run into their shields." Franks said.
"Five seconds." Jordan said as he trimmed up the impulse thrust. They were about to get hammered with disruptor fire, that was unavoidable. However he could minimize their exposure by a second or two with the right flight path. But none of that would matter if the Battleship's shields weren't interrupted.
"If we do run into their shields?" Marion asked Rosh quietly.
"Like running into a wall." Was the Andorian's response.
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"Elliot!" Taylor cried.
The Commander shut the access panel, and hit the loading control. "Lock and load Captain!"
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Undaunted by the appearance of the small hospital ship, the Dominion Battleship turned to face the Nightingale head on. The gall of Nightingale's apparent collision course caused an unofficial armistice. The main hull of the Battleship looked like the head of a spear. The sweep of the struts that held its warp nacelles made the massive ship look like a predator cat ready to pounce.
The cease fire was then broken as two photon torpedoes were fired from the Noble. When they found their target, the usual eruption created by the antimatter warhead did not occur. Instead each torpedo released a puff of blue energy. The wisps of tachyons spread out across the Battleship's shields, causing them to flicker on and off.
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As the Nightingale reached the Battleship's shield barrier, the bridge rumbled and shook. "It's the Battleship trying to reestablish its shields." Rosh explained as he looked over Frank's shoulder. "We should be fine."
"Ensign Hudson." Marion called, as he opened an internal comm. channel to sickbay. "Transport when ready."
The ship then pitched violently. "Their shields again?" Marion asked.
"It's disruptor fire, sir." Franks said.
"Transport complete." Rosh reported.
"Get us out of here with all due haste Ensign Singer." Marion commanded.
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"You up?" Riggs asked First Lieutenant Shay after arranging his own squad in a defensive position. The passage way they where in was well lit, but its deep gray color that bordered on black made it appear mach darker than it was. The Major wondered if the Dominion had chosen the color to protect against just what they were trying to do. The color matched the Uniform of the Jem'Hadar perfectly. Maybe, but Riggs knew the Jem'Hadar did not need painted walls to improve their camouflage.
After double-checking his count, Shay nodded and gave a thumbs up with his free hand. The other hand kept his rifle pointed down his field of fire.
"Which way?" Riggs asked Hudson.
"One second." The engineer had his tricorder out and was accessing a wall console. "I should be able to bring up a corridor schematic."
"Should be able to? What happens if you can't, we go knocking door to door?" Shay asked.
"Quiet!" Riggs snapped. He raised his rifle and moves the barrel in deliberate movements, a little to the right, a little to the left. It seemed he was trying to zero in on specific point of the bulkhead across from him.
"Found it." Hudson said, pleased with how easy it had been.
"Quiet!" Riggs commanded again. His rifle's barrel froze in a single direction. He fired. The blue bolt didn't make it halfway across the corridor before it impacted. A Jem'Hadar soldier seemed to materialize out of thin air as his shroud lost power. The lifeless body fell to the ground.
Five more soldiers appeared, dropping their personal cloaking devices so they could fire, but they never got the chance. Rigg's men opened fire and killed the Soldiers as quickly as they had appeared.
Riggs looked towards the stunned Hudson. "The Jem'Hadar should re-design their genetically engineered noses. They breathe too loud."
"Right." Hudson said, still in awe of what just happened. He shook his head and focused on the mission. "Doral, link you tricorder with mine. I'll upload the directions to ventral shield control." As he was working he looked to Shay. "The explosive I gave you contains trilithium resin, a highly volatile waste product of our warp core. The containment unit should keep it stable enough, but don't give it any bumps."
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"They're ignoring Noble completely." Rosh hollered as Nightingale's bridge lurched again.
"Our shields are down to forty-one percent!" Franks cried.
"More speed Mr. Singer." Marion ordered, a bead of sweat breaking out on his brow. He feared the battleship, but even more he feared his decision was going to mean the end of his ship and his crew.
"Engines are already to flank, sir." Jordan replied.
"Rosh to engineering, we need more power to the impulse engines."
The scared voice of an engineering tech came back over a staticy comm. "We're trying, sir. But our shield generators and impulse drive are the only things their shooting at. Once we get an ounce more power out of them, they take away a quart."
Rosh tuned to Marion. "Their trying to disable us, not destroy us. They might think we still have Esco."
The hard impact from another volley of fire made the ship buck. It was followed by shuttering vibration that rumbled from somewhere within the Nightingale. "What was that?" Marion asked once it had passed.
"We're loosing speed." Jordan reported. "Impulse limited to one third."
"Engineering what's going on?" Rosh demanded.
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Unbeknownst to the Nightingale's bridge crew their every word was being incepted over the comm. As were all communications made to the bridge.
"Engineering what's going on?" The observer heard Rosh say.
"They're still targeting our impulse engines, sir. The last hit somehow caused the overtemp cutoff valve to shut." The engineer replied.
"Open it!" Rosh commanded.
"The actuating servo is fused." The technician said helplessly.
"Do it manually, we need more speed!" Rosh barked.
The technician sighed in frustration. "We tried sir, but the Jefferies tube is filled with smoke. We can't even see the valve."
"Christ." The observer to the conversation muttered. "It's freaking amateur hour."
Chief Reilly then shut off the comm. and left his quarters.
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Franks was frantic. "They're closing fast! Shields down to twenty-eight percent!"
Marion opened a comm. channel. "Noble, we're taking quite a beating."
Captain Taylor's voice came back immediately. "We're trying to position our self in between yourself and the Battleship, but they're not making it easy to get around."
Jordan checked his navigation. The Battleship was nearly on top of them. The Noble trailed closely behind. He could see the Galaxy class ship jinxing to port, then to starboard, trying to find a seam around the Dominion ship, but the Battleship match every maneuver. "Tell Noble to come to course 080 mark 4, slow to two thirds impulse."
"Pardon?" Marion asked, unsure of why orders seemed to be flowing the wrong way.
"I can get us behind the Noble, but we need their help." Jordan assured him.
Marion nodded and repeated the instructions to Captain Taylor.
As soon as Taylor acknowledged the transmission Jordan disengaged the safety interlocks and fired the Nightingale's thrusters. This allowed him to achieve max acceleration, even overcoming Nightingale's own inertial dampers.
Marion felt himself rising out of his chair, he gabbed the armrests to hold himself down.
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While the crew in the forward part of the ship was being pulled towards the overhead, the crew members in the aft sections were yanked down. Chief Reilly was waling down a cooridor, dragging his hand along one bulkhead for reference. When the Nightingale lurched into its turn he tumbled forward in the passageway and found himself face to face with the deck plating. Rising to his knees, the ship was hit again by Dominion disruptors. The Chief slipped and was on the deck again.
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Jordan came out of his turn and the artificial gravity quickly stabilized. He set the impulse engines to flank speed, barely one third of their normal output. The Battleship had come to a stop and was turning towards Nightingale at a much more controlled rate.
Relative to the Nightingale the Noble was now diving towards her from above. Jordan hadn't had time to do exact calculations. The course and speed he had told Lieutenant Commander Marion just felt right. Jacob Millen was driving the Noble along the exact course at the precise speed Jordan had demanded. He hoped he hadn't been over zealous.
Jordan's own course was right where he wanted it, and his speed was maxed out. The disastrous consequences of an error on his part were overwhelming his thoughts. With no corrections to input he could only sit, wait, and hope that the two Federation ships would not collided.
As the Noble approached the bridge crew drew in a collective breath and held it. The Noble threw its thrusters into hard reverse. It came to a stop; the Nightingale below it, and the Battleship above at point blank range.
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Chief Reilly was on his feet and feeling his way around the passageway. Both bulkheads felt the same. He took a moment to regain his bearings. The moment passed and he still wasn't sure.
"Hello?" He hollered. No answer. "Computer?" He asked. The only response was a disconcerting beep. He turned one way and then another. "Son of a…" He muttered. "I'm lost."
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Hudson, staring at his tricorder, led his team through the corridors of the battleship. He held up his free hand and stopped the squad. His figures moved over the tricorder's controls, changing the sensor setting in the handheld device. He un-holstered his phaser, raised it and fired. A shrouded Jem'Hadar dropped to the ground out of nothingness.
Riggs looked at him questioningly.
Hudson shrugged. "I programmed it to listen for breathing."
Riggs cracked a half smile. "Good shot." He said. "Are we getting close?"
"Closer," Hudson said, "but there is still more ahead than behind."
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The Battleship was backing off. Its engines were in full reverse, trying to open some distance between itself and the Noble. Red streams of phaser fire were flowing out of every bank the Noble had pointed at the Battleship. But it did not answer a shot; it continued its slow retreat.
A Dominion Battleship is as singular minded as the Jem'Hadar who run it. When an obstacle foolishly places itself in front of the objective, it is merciless.
The hammering the Battleship had given the Nightingale had not been done at full power. The goal was to disable the Hospital ship and capture the Nevlian. That goal was limping away. The Noble insisted on interfering.
When it had backed away to optimal firing range the Battleship came to a stop. The weapons were recalibrated to full power, and the ship fired. The torrent of disruptor fire and torpedoes was overwhelming. The Noble's shields strained to absorb the energy of the unrelenting rain of fire.
Nightingale saw none of this. The huge frame of the Galaxy class ship obscured the exchange completely. It was not until Franks noticed an odd radiation spike on his sensor readout that the seriousness of Noble's situation became apparent.
On the visual scanners it appeared that a blinking light had been place just off center on the ventral side of the Noble's saucer section. But after blinking twice the light erupted, sending chunks of the Noble's hull outward followed by a plume of blue energy.
"Dear lord." Franks gasped as he watched several disruptor shots pass through the gaping hole and impact the Noble's ventral shield from the inside. "Sir, the Noble, it's…"
Rosh looked back over Franks' shoulder. "They've blown a hole right through her."
"Marion to Noble." The Doctor waited uneasily for a reply that did not come. "Marion to Captain Taylor." Again he was met with no reply.
Rosh shook his head. "Their bridge has been obliterated. They're dead in space."
And for the first time since entering the battle, Jordan felt unnerved, and let out a quiet sigh. "Kizzy."
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"Uh oh." Hudson muttered, coming to a stop.
Riggs stepped next to him. "What is it?"
Hudson tilted the tricorder screen toward Riggs so the Major could see the screen. The tricorder displayed a map of battleship's corridors. A small green symbol in the middle indicated their present position. Surrounding that position from every corridor were small red symbols, and they were getting closer. The Major did not know much about the engineer's tool, but Hudson did not need to explain what the small red dots were.
Riggs turned to his men. "Incoming." He whispered, giving several hand motions to his squad. The men nodded and silently formed a perimeter. He took Hudson by the arm and pushed him down against the wall. "We won't be able to hold them off for long, not that many of them." He told the engineer. "Start looking for another way to the objective."
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"The Battleship has resumed pursuit." Rosh reported.
"They're only going to disable us, right?" Franks asked. "They still think we have Esco."
"And when they find he is not among us, Lieutenant? At one third impulse they will catch us. If we were able to go to warp, they would catch us. No quasars or planets to hide behind, nothing to bargain with. We're out of trump cards." Marion ran his hand through his gray hair. His decisions had led them to this point. He prayed he had not led them to the end. "Is there anything? Any spatial anomaly, any pocket of gas, anything besides empty space that we could take advantage of?"
"There's nothing, sir." Franks replied dejectedly. "Nothing, except a few clouds of neutrinos ahead of us."
"Neutrinos?" Marion asked.
"Leptons, sir. Electrically neutral subatomic particles." Rosh explained.
"I know what they are Mr. Rosh. I'm trying to remember…" Marion stroked his chin absently. "I read about them, or talked about them. Something recent..." Marion snapped his fingers and shot a knowing glance at his XO.
"Sir?" Rosh asked.
"Ensign Singer, alter course towards the neutrinos." Marion ordered.
"Sir," Jordan said. "They're moving towards us."
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The patient was understandably fearful. She had heard the Commanding Officer's address earlier; she knew the ship was heading into battle. She had seen the lights in her room flicker and felt the ship shutter as it was fired upon. And now there was man with a very disturbing look in his eyes standing in her doorway. He had burst into her room and yelled something at her, but she was so surprised she couldn't make out what he was saying.
"I know somebody is in here, I can hear you breathing!" Chief Reilly hollered in frustration. "Is there a window in this room?"
"What?" She asked, instinctively pulling her sheet over her body up to her neck.
"A window, woman! Is there a window in this room? I'm blind, so I can't tell, and I have to find out if I'm on the inboard or outboard side of this corridor."
"Y-yes." She stammered. "There is a window."
"Finally." Reilly huffed and left the room as quickly as he had come.
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"How long until we reach the neutrino clouds?" Marion asked.
"Eighty seconds." Jordan responded.
"And when will the battleship be within weapons range?" As soon as Marion had finished the question the all too familiar vibrations weapons impact rocked the Nightingale.
"Shields down to fifteen percent!" Franks reported.
"Will they last another forty seconds?" Marion asked.
Franks shook his head. "I don't think so."
Rosh tapped his comm. badge. "Engineering, we need more power to impulse or more power to shields. I don't care which, but we need it now."
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"See what you can do about those shields!" Reilly barked as he entered engineering. "And some one point me towards the Jefferies tube."
"Chief, we can't see a thing in there." A crewman protested as he led the Chief to the access hatch.
"If we get out of this I want you to think about how stupid that must sound to me." Reilly retorted as he heaved himself up into the Jefferies tube. "And after that I'm going to give all of you a systems knowledge review. You don't have to see the damn thing with your eyes if you can see it in your head."
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"Fourty-seven seconds to intercept." Jordan reported.
"Shields at fifteen percent." Franks added.
"Can we set up the transporter scattering field Mr. Hudson devised?" Marion asked Rosh.
"Only if we power down the shields and engines, but without the shields they could knock out the transporter system with a single shot." Rosh explained.
"We were close." Marion sighed.
"It might not even be them, the neutrinos could be natural." Rosh said.
"Sir! We just got full impulse power back!" Jordan elated. "New time to intercept, ten seconds."
"Engineering, well done!" Marion exclaimed.
"Pleasure being of use, Skipper." Chief Reilly's voice replied over the comm.
"Three seconds to the neutrino clouds." Jordan reported. A hush fell of the bridge, as if making the slightest sound would prevent it from being what they hoped it was. "We've pasted them." Jordan finally said.
"I was wrong." Marion muttered, slumping into his chair.
"Something is happening." Franks said, scrutinizing his sensor readout. "Three ships decloaking!"
"They're Klingon!" Rosh shouted, allowing relief to overcome his normally calm tone.
The face of Captain Torr appeared on the viewscreen. "Nightingale, standby to drop your shields. We'll get you out here."
Marion straightened up in his chair. "Not this time Captain Torr." He replied. "We need you to keep the Battleship busy while we assist the Noble."
Torr erupted into laughter. "You are out gunned, out powered, and out manned, but you do not yield! Check you medical scanners Doctor, you may find that you are Klingon!"
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Hudson wiped the sweat from his brow. The temperature of the corridor had increased drastically once the fire fight had begun. The bolts of energy spouting from the rifles on both sides made the air acrid. And the fact that the Jem'Hadar were coming ever closer from both ends of the passage way would have had Hudson sweating regardless of the temperature. They could not go forward and they had been cut off from behind. The tricorder map showed only one option.
"There." Hudson pointed.
"Don't be an idiot, that's a bulkhead." Riggs replied.
"There is a service tunnel directly behind it."
Riggs contemplated the information for a moment, then adjusted the power setting on his rifle. There was an audible sound as the rifle overloaded is chamber. Riggs fired. There was an eruption of dust and debris, but left in its place was a substantial hole. "Everybody inside!" He commanded.
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"Still no response." Franks said.
"Life signs indicate most of the crew is still alive." Rosh said.
"Perhaps their comms system is out." Marion speculated.
"That or their command structure has been totally obliterated. It's probably complete chaos over there." Rosh replied.
"Continue to hail them." Marion ordered, standing up and moving towards the door.
"Going somewhere, sir?" Rosh asked.
"Over to the Noble." Marion explained. "Doctor Sovek should have the medical away team assembled. I'm leading the team."
Rosh stepped close to his superior and spoke softly. "Sir, you're place is on the bridge of your ship."
Marion responded in equally quiet tones. "I'm a doctor, Mr. Rosh. You belong here; my place is where injured people need my help. You have the bridge."
Before Rosh could object Maion walked out the door.
"Sir, someone is responding to our hails." Franks informed the disappointed Andorian.
Rosh moved to the center chair before responding. "On screen."
"Nightingale, this is Commander Elliot. As far as I can tell, I'm in charge over here." The man on the screen said.
"We're sending a medical team over to assist your injured." Rosh said. "Is there anything else you need?"
"Thank you. We've regained most command functions through the battle bridge. Weapons and shields should be online soon. We've got all we could ask for, considering." Elliot replied, before adding with a chuckle. "Unless you happen have a spare helmsman lying around there."
"I'll send him over with the medical team." Rosh turned towards the starboard station. "Mr. Franks…"
"Me, sir?" Franks cut him off. Jordan sighed in frustration.
"Relieve Ensign Singer." Rosh finished.
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Since they had transported to the Battleship Major Riggs and his men had constantly been pushing Hudson to move faster towards the objective. But as they crawled through the Jefferies tube, it was the self proclaimed 'ground pounders' that needed to be urged along. Major Riggs had point and made no complaint about the cramp space, concentrating on a vain attempt to out pace the engineer behind him as he followed Hudson's navigation through the service conduits. Riggs did, however, complain regularly to the men following Hudson. He complained that they had become soft and slow, that it was a miracle they had made it this far against the Jem'Hadar with such weak a company, and most offensive of all, that one of the ten pound heads from the engineering division was in better physical condition than themselves.
"Keep up with the engineer if you can boys." Riggs hollered back at his men.
Lagging a little behind Hudson a soldier shifted the container of trilithium he had slung over his back and tried to quicken the speed of his crawl. He was conscious of his shoulder. It didn't hurt, he could thank the Vulcan doctor for that, but it wasn't as strong as he remembered.
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The battle was won, one at least. Jordan was handed the dream he had been denied, the helm of a mighty starship in battle. Glorious battle, Captain Torr would have called it, battle worthy of song. He felt he should be happy or excited, and maybe part of him was. But the circumstance that delivered his goal to him, the cost, not to himself but to others, wrenched at another part of him. He pushed it aside best he could as he walked down the passageway towards Sickbay. He knew once he was sitting behind the helm again his troubles on his mind would evaporate and all consciousness would be bent towards the objects in space, all in motion, and how maneuvering his would influence the behavior of the others. Behind the helm it would be easy to ignore unpleasant thoughts, but that helm was still a walk down the corridor and a transport across the void away.
Jordan had been staring at the deck plates as he walked, trying to make his mind as blank as the gray surface that clanked quietly beneath his feet. When the soft clank, clank, clank was joined by a similar but syncopated rhythm coming in the other direction he looked up. "Kizzy." The surprised word escaped Jordan's mouth.
"Jordan," She greeted him with a small smile, "Have you seem Doctor Sovek or Doctor Marion?" She asked.
Jordan opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't. He shook his head no, looking at her with gapping mouth and mournful eyes.
"They left me off the away team for some reason." She huffed. Her brow then furrowed in concern as she noticed the pained expression on Jordan's face. "Are you ok?"
It took all of his will for Jordan to force himself to speak, but when he did "Kizzy, I…" was all he could manage.
"Why aren't you on the bridge?" Kizmet's look of concern for her friend turned expression of confusion.
"They need me on the away team." He shifted his eyes back to the deck while he spoke, unable to look her in the eye. When he glanced up he saw a tear rolling down her cheek.
"Why?" She asked, her voice shaking a little.
"I…" He couldn't continue. Right now she needed a friend, and Jordan could not find the strength to be that friend. He was not behind the helm, he was not in control, so he retreated. "I have to go to sickbay." He stepped by her.
"Jordan." She called turning, her voice a sob. "What's happened?"
He continued to walk, he wiped away the tears welling up in his eyes, and he did not dare turn around.
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"I'm going on that away team."
Marion and Sovek turned, surprised to see Kizzy, her faced striped with the wet trails of her tears.
Sovek spoke first. "Doctor Kizmet, I left your name off the away team because a skilled doctor will need to remain behind to tend to any injuries sustained by our own crew."
"Then pick someone else to stay behind, I need to be on that away team."
The Vulcan opened his mouth to rebut, but Marion silenced him with a gesture. "Sovek, please." Marion looked at the scared and desperate girl in front of him. "Kizmet, your fiancé is not over there. There is no body. There is no chance of saving him. I do not want to send a Doctor over there that may have her priorities out of order. I need people who will do their duty."
"Skipper?" A confused voice asked.
Marion saw it came from an engineering technician that happened to be passing by. "Yes crewman?"
"Is everything alright, sir?" The crewman asked.
"Why do you ask?" Marion was now slightly puzzled.
"Well…" The crewman stammered. "I thought you would be on the bridge."
"Everything is fine." Marion assured him. "Carry on."
"Aye, sir." The crewman resumed his hurried pace down the passageway.
Marion turned back to Kizmet. "I need people who will do their duty. Can I count on you?"
"I just want to help. I want to do my job." She replied.
"Very well." Marion said. "Doctor Sovek, Kizmet will be taking my place on the away team."
"You wish to remain behind?" Sovek asked.
Marion gazed back in the direction of the crewman. "My duty is on the bridge."
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"Just a little further." Hudson said, scrutinizing the map on his tricorder. "We have to cross a large shaft, then it's about a fifty meters to engineering."
"Found the shaft." Major Riggs said. Just in front of him was a large circular hole, running as far up and as far down as he could see. A small metal bridge extended across the hole to another service crawl space on the other side. The bridge was smooth with no sides or guard rails and only wide enough to cross singlefile. "Don't look down." Riggs muttered, and he started across it.
Riggs made it across with ease. The lack of any guardrails slowed Hudson's pace a bit, but he made it over. He and Riggs moved back in the Jefferies tube to make room for the rest of the squad. They turned and saw a pulsing light accompanied by a high pitch whine. It was a transporter beam. The light coalesced into three Jem'Hadar soldiers, scattered between the Starfleet marines on the bridge. The Jem'Hadar wasted no time. The Starfleet soldiers screamed as they were shot or kicked off the bridge. Some grabbed at the legs of their attackers and tried to pull them down as they.
The chaos relented for a moment and Hudson saw one Jem'Hadar left standing on the bridge. The Starfleet soldiers were dead or fallen, except one man dangling from the side of the bridge. The man held onto the bridge with one hand, and in the other he held onto a swinging container of trilitium resin.
"How much of a knock can that explosive take?" Riggs asked.
"Uh, not too much." Hudson said.
"Move!" Riggs commanded. When Hudson didn't respond immediately Riggs grabbed him by the shoulder and started dragging the engineer down the Jefferies tube and around a corner.
Under the bridge the Starfleet soldier knew he couldn't pull himself up even if a Jem'Hadar wasn't there. His arm was too weak. Even as the sneering Jem'Hadar began to step on his fingers the pain felt as far away as the pain in his shoulder. The Vulcan had done his job, the man thought, and now there was one last chance to do his own. With his good arm the man swung the container he held up onto the bridge as hard as he could.
A blast of heat thundered pass Hudson and Riggs. It hadn't been a large amount of trilithium, but it wasn't a substance that required great quantities to make it deadly. However, as Major Riggs often told the men he lead, its not how big your weapon is, its where you aim that critical shot. If your aim is true, it takes little force to defeat your enemy. If it is not, you just piss them off. With the explosion in the Jefferies tube, the Starfleet personnel had succeeded in pissing the dominion off.
"Can you still blow the core?" Riggs asked.
Hudson pushed himself up to his knees and found his dropped tricorder. He looked at the map, and then at the Major. "I've got too." He said, then turned and began to crawl. "This way."
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"Sir, there has just been a large energy surge in the Battleship." Franks reported. "Looks like an internal explosion."
"The dorsal shield generator?" Rosh asked.
Franks shook his head. "All their shields are holding."
"Their power core?"
"I don't think so." Franks replied. "I'm not reading any power fluctuations, just a radiation spike."
"Is that bad?" Someone asked from behind. Startled, Franks and Rosh looked to the back of the bridge.
Rosh spoke first, standing as he did. "It means that one of our teams has detonated their trilitium unsuccessfully."
Marion stared at the Dominion ship on the view screen, and he walked to his chair. A moment passed before he realized the Andorian was still looking at him with an expression Marion would call contentment if he didn't know his XO better. "Is there a problem Lieutenant?"
"Not anymore sir." Rosh replied in his normal all business manner. He turned and assumed the port station. "The Battleship has out flanked the Klingons and is closing on our position."
"Well," Marion sat down in his chair, "The Noble still needs time to recover. Let's hope the Battleship maintains its interest in us. Mr. Franks, move us away from the Noble, best speed."
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As Federation ships, the Nightingale and Noble shared a distinct aesthetic. The interiors had similar paneling on the bulkheads, the doors and hatches looked the same, even the strips of alert lights running down the corridor, flashing red, looked alike.
Standing in a corridor aboard the Noble, Jordan noted the main difference, the size. He had been aboard plenty of Federation ships. He knew that width of the passage way, that comfortably fit himself and the medical team, was the norm, and the cramp narrow corridors of the Nightingale were the exception.
"Which one of you drives ships?" Someone hollered. Jordan and the medical team turned towards the voice. A commander with a couple of crewmen in tow headed towards the Nightingale's away team with a purpose.
"I do." Jordan said, shuffling the front of the group.
"I'm Commander Elliot, you're with me." The acting Captain said pointing at Singer. "The rest of you follow my men here. They'll take you to engineering."
As the medical was lead away one Doctor remained, staring down a passage way intersecting the one she was standing in.
"Ma'am, you should go with my men." Elliot told her.
"What if there are people down there that need help?" Kizmet asked gesturing down the hall.
"That leads to the main bridge." Elliot said. "There's no one left there."
Kizzy bit her lower lip and nodded as she turned and followed the rest of the medical team.
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"Doral, how's your progress?" Hudson said quietly after tapping his comm. badge. He and Major Riggs crouched in service tube near the Battleship's main engineering.
"We're on our way now sir." Came Doral's reply. "It took a little time to de-rig the explosive from the shield generator."
"Good job." Hudson tapped his comm. badge again to close the connection.
"I wonder how long we have." Riggs muttered.
"How long for what?"
"How long before the Jem'Hadar locate us in these crawl spaces again." The major craned his head from side to side, looking down the service tube for any threats.
"Hopefully they won't." Hudson pulled out his tricorder and held it up. "I've modified this to mask our bio-signs."
Riggs knodded in approval. "Good thinking."
Hudson sighed and looked away. "I should have thought of it before I got your men killed." He said quietly.
Riggs stopped scanning for threats. He hit Hudson on the shoulder to get his undivided attention and stared directly at him. "Back on MN-1375 I was in command of a platoon tasked with holding a rather strategic land bridge that was the only practical way to cross the canyon it spanned. We had it pretty well defended. Lucky for us there was a plain on the other side of the land bridge. We could see the Jem'Hadar coming from a far way off. They had to retreat to the hills. But then they started to pick us off. One by one my men began to go down." Riggs hand went to the left side of his neck and he rubbed the scared flesh. "It wasn't until I realized our comm. badges and collar insignias were glinting in the sun that the duck shoot stopped. It would have been nice to notice that earlier, but that's not the way these things work. You didn't kill those men, the Jem'Hadar did. What you did do is find a way to give our mission a fighting chance, and you're going to save the Nightingale and the Noble."
"You really think we'll pull this off?" Hudson asked.
Riggs resumed his lookout up and down the service tube. "It better than thinking we can't."
------------------------------------------------------------
"The viridium signatures are heading towards engineering." Rosh reported from the port station of the Nightingale's bridge.
"All of them?" Marion asked. "I thought half were supposed to go to the shield generator."
"They must be taking their trilithium to engineering." Rosh realized.
"But we need that shield down to beam them out." Marion said.
"Sir, I don't think that shield is coming down." Rosh replied.
"The Battleship is closing to weapons range!" The Nightingale shuttered before the words were even out of Frank's mouth.
There was an explosion from the overhead as an EPS conduit overloaded. Sparks showered down over the bridge and pieces of metal were shot across the room. Marion's hand shot to his face as a piece of hot metal grazed his neck. "Mr. Rosh, damage report." Marion demanded once the hot rain of energy subsided.
There was no response. Marion looked over to the port station. Rosh lay back at his station, moaning and clutching at his head. Marion was to his side in a second. He applied pressure to the wound with one hand and the other tapped his comm. badge. "Bridge to sickbay, medical emergency."
"The Klingons are re-engaging the battleship." Franks reported. "We're out of their weapons range."
Rosh felt dazed and confused. He saw a bright light move from one eye to another. Marion slipped the pen light back into his pocket and Rosh's eyes were able to focus a bit. "Sir, your neck is bleeding."
"It's superficial." Marion said. "You've suffered a concussion. I'm having you transported to sickbay." And Marion felt himself wishing he could trade places with his injured XO. "Rosh, I don't know if I can do this with out you." He said quietly.
Rosh felt himself being dragged into unconsciousness, but before he gave in he looked at his superior. The collar of Marion's uniform shirt had absorbed the blood flowing out of the cut in his neck. The blue collar was now stained a dark red. Rosh smiled weakly. "You can. Red suits you."
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"Attitude control restored." Jordan reported from the helm of the Noble. The controls felt different than the Nightingale's. They responded immediately and with definite power. The Noble had a confidence about her, even it her weakened state. And Jordan had what he always wanted, the helm of a Federation warship.
"Phasers and torpedoes are ready. Shields still offline." Elliot read off the captain's chair's console. He pressed a control activating comms with engineering.
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"Engineering, this is Commander Elliot. I need my shields back online." The Commander's voice echoed through the huge main engineering space. His call went unanswered. Engineering was in chaos. The crewman that were not incapacitated from injury were fighting fires and praying for some sort of direction.
Sovek held out a vile to doctor Kizmet. "Doctor, you'll need this."
"What is it?" She asked, taking the vile.
"Morphine, amphetamine, and tri-ox." Sovek answered.
"A pain killer and two stimulants?" Kizzy looked at the vile in disgust. "Sovek, this will worsen the condition of many of these men."
"Doctor, we are not here to provide long term treatment. We are here to make this crew capable of executing their duties and getting this ship back in the fight. This may go against your instincts as a physician, but if this ship is not repaired, there will be no patients left alive to treat."
Sovek turned and attended to a crewman suffering from burns before Kizzy could reply. She took a deep breath and walked over to a crewman sitting against a bulkhead. "How are you doing?" She asked him.
"We're going to die." The crewman had his legs pulled up to his chest. His breathing was shallow and he words were forced. "I live in a four man bunk. John was killed two weeks ago, when we got trapped behind the line. Chris died just a few days ago. Brian is lying on the floor over there, he hasn't moved in a long time. I know I'm next."
Kizzy scanned him with her tricorder. "You have a broken rib. You have to let go of your legs to I can treat you."
"It hurts." He said, but he complied and let go of his legs. His eye transfixed on his friend lying on the deck.
"Engineering, I need where are my shields!" Elliot yelled over the comm.
"What part of the ship do you work on?" Kizzy asked the crewman. "Do you work on the shields?"
He shook his head. "The shields won't work. The ripple filter is shot. Unless someone bypasses it they won't get power."
"Can you bypass the ripple filter?" She asked. The crewman didn't respond. She hesitated for a moment, then loaded the vile Sovek had given her into her hypospray and administered an injection. "This will help with the pain. Its hard to loose people close to you, but we still have jobs the crew is counting on us to do. Now I'm going to go help Brian. But I don't want the ship being attacked while I do. Can you bypass the ripple filter and fix the shields?" She asked him. "Can you do that for Brian?"
The crewman began to breathe easier and perk up as the drugs took effect. "Yeah," he said, "I can do that."
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There was a loud clatter. Riggs put his finger to his lips, signaling Hudosn to be quiet. The Major quickly and quietly crawled around the corner of the service tube so he could see main engineering through a vent grating.
Hudson heard weapons fire and a lot of yelling. Another clank came from around the corner, and the thump, thump, thump of someone hurrying along the crawl space. There was weapons fire, then nothing. Hudson peered around the corner. The grating was gone and Riggs was no where to be seen.
"All clear!" The Major hollered. "You can come out now Ensign."
Hudson crawled out of the service tube into the Battleships main engineering. There were lifeless Jem'Hadar bodies strewn across the deck along with a couple of Starfleet marines. But the rest of First Lieutenant Shay's team stood with rifles ready, covering the entrances.
"He you are, sir." Doral held out the trilithium explosive.
"Thanks." Hudson said, taking the canister. He then took a quick look around the room before stopping in front of a large piece of equipment coming out of the wall.
"That the weakest point?" Riggs gestured at the apparatus Hudson was securing the explosive too.
"It's the dylithium chamber." Hudson replied. "This will blow the reactor wide open. I'm setting the timer for five minutes." He then moved over to an engineering console.
"Why not just blow it now?" Riggs asked. "With the shield generator intact we have no way off this ship."
"We have to warn the Nightingale, so she has enough time to get clear of the blast." Hudson said.
"So what do we do until then?" Doral asked in a shaky voice. All of a sudden one of the doors swooshed open, weapons fire spouted from a ready marine's rifle as he downed an advancing Jem'Hadar soldier.
Riggs looked levelly at Doral. "We hold."
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"Sir, we're receiving a signal from the Battleship." Franks reported.
Marion checked his own console. "It's a message, 'Five minutes, Hudson'."
"Adjusting course away from the Battleship." Franks said. "I'll get us clear of the blast zone."
Marion slumped a little in his chair. This was not how the plan was supposed to go. But the plan has changed, the some of the trilithium was lost, so his men could not free themselves. Things change, Marion thought, plans change. He sat up. "Wait." He ordered. "We have to get our people off that ship."
"Sir, the battleships shields are at…" Franks scanned his instruments, "forty-seven percent, they're trapped."
"Then we'll have to free them." Marion opened a channel to the Noble and Captain Torr, and explained the situation.
"We will not leave your warriors behind, Nightingale." Torr assured him. "However, our transporters cannot handle that many people at once."
"Noble is ready, our shields just came back online, but are transporters are not functioning." Elliot said.
Marion opened a comm. to engineering. "Chief, what is the status of our transporter?"
"I've been listening in skipper, and the transporters are fine." Chief Reilly replied. "But the shields are shot; we can get you 2 tops. So you're going to have a hard time getting near enough that battleship to use them."
"Sir," Jordan interrupted the conversation from behind the helm of the Noble, "I have an idea about that."
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"It's your show kid." Elliot said.
"We need everyone to target the Battleship's dorsal shield. We'll beam our people out through there." Jordan said.
Elliot relayed the order to the Klingons. "And how are you going to get the Nightingale close enough with no shields?"
"She'll have a shield." Jordan said. "Us." His mind slipped into a familiar frame. Objects in space, all have a direction, all had a speed. How he moved the ones he held control over would influence the movement of the ones he didn't.
"Franks, set course two seven four mark one, half impulse power." Jordan commanded. Franks complied.
The Nightingale turned, showing its broadside to the battleship. The battleship, fighting through the Klingons hammering assault on its dorsal shield, set and intercept course for the Nightingale. Jordan then set the Noble into motion. He adjust her attitude so she shared the same orientation as the battleship and he set his course to lead the battleship.
When the Noble was in range it opened up on the Battleship with photon torpedoes. "Their dorsal shield is beginning to buckle." Elliot said.
Jordan adjusted his course and speed. His positioning would be crucial. The Noble entered phaser range of the Battleship, and every functioning battery lanced out at the enemy in fiery red beams.
"We're almost in weapons range of the Battleship!" Franks heart was pounding, he thought it may leap out of his chest.
"Franks," Jordan's voice came over the comm., "hard to starboard! Course zero one two mark zero, three quarters impulse!"
"But that would take us directly at the Battleship, and we have no shields!" Franks pleaded.
"Turn the ship, Mr. Franks!" Marion ordered. "Turn it now!"
Franks hands were shaking, but he entered the new course and speed.
------------------------------------------------------------
"Hold on." Jordan warned Elliot. He threw the Noble into emergency reverse, and rotated the ship ninety degrees. They came to a complete stop so that the Battleship saw nothing but the massive oval of the Noble's saucer. The Dominion ship fired at it as if it were a huge bullseye.
"Singer," Franks called over the comm., "we're heading directly for your ship."
"Full impulse, Franks." Jordan commanded. "Be ready with those transporters."
"We're ready, Mr. Singer." Marion came back.
The Battleship was slowing. Jordan knew it would turn soon to avoid a collision, he just had to help it turn the right way.
"Their dorsal shield has collapsed, but I don't know for how long." Elliot said. "Whatever you got in mind, do it now."
Jordan waited one second longer. All the objects were in place. He activated the Noble's thrusters again, rotating the ship ninety degrees in the opposite direction. The Battleship dipped its bow, diving to avoid a collision. The Nightingale remained on course, sailing just under the Noble's saucer as it moved out of the way, and just over top of the Battleship.
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"Energizing transporter." Marion said.
"Sickbay to bridge!" Hudson's frantic voice came over the comm. "All souls aboard! Sixty seconds to detonation!"
"You heard the man, Mr. Franks." Marion said. "Get us out of here!"
The Nightingale moved off at its best speed as did the Noble and Captain Torr's ships. The Battleship erupted into a ball of white light, the dark metal of its menacing hull was annihilated into streaks of pure energy as the antimatter from its reactor consumed the ship. The Nightingale rocked one last time in the wake of the explosion. Then it was over.
The bridge was silent for some time, until Marion spoke. "Engineering, damage report."
"We're pretty banged up, but we could squeeze out warp four if you don't give us too many bumps." Chief Reilly replied.
"Commander Marion." Elliot appeared on the view screen, standing behind Jordan. "I wanted to thank you. Your ship," he placed his hand on Jordan's shoulder, "and your crew, saved our lives."
Marion smiled. "Commander Elliot, this ship's mission is one of life."
The viewscreen split and Captain Torr appeared on one side. "Qa'pla, Nightingale. We honor you as fellow warriors today, and we await your command."
"My Command." Marion found meaning in the words he never knew existed before that moment. "My command is to set course for Starbase 375, warp four. Let's go home."
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