17. Pen Pals
A/N: Captain Akaani is a character from Transwarp's factastic story "Convicted".
Hoshi was sitting on the desk writing her letter and smiled as she heard a soft snoring from the bunk. As arranged before, she had fetched Trip from the captain's mess at precisely 23:30 By the looks of it, either Trip could hold his drink much better than Commodore Archer or their former captain had just drunk much more; Trip had been quite well buzzed and fairly wobbly on his feet, but not hopelessly drunk. His older friend, however – well, she could imagine that he would not feel all that fresh the next day, indeed it was unlikely he'd wake up at all until late in the afternoon. Shran, who'd seemed almost unaffected by the drink, had promised to get the completely wasted commander of the first fleet back to his own ship within the hour. For good measure she'd told Tholos to keep an eye on them, especially to make sure that Shran wouldn't get it into his head to pilot the shuttle home by himself.
Thankfully Trip was a well-behaved drunk. He'd been telling a load of baloney, making jokes that were, well, probably best kept to an adult audience, but he never overstepped any boundaries of propriety. Considering that she had more than once teased him with the odd wiggle of her bust or other coquetry during their card games back on the station, she wouldn't have been too surprised or even angry if he had (with his inhibitions loosened by the drink) tried to 'cop' a playful feel, but the gallant southerner never put a foot wrong.
What had amused her most was that Trip could really keep no secret to himself in his condition. He would probably be the galaxy's most useless operative. His tongue loosened by Shran's ale, he had given away a few secrets that would definitely be of interest for T'Pol as far as spicing up their love life went.
Still smiling, she continued to finish her return communication to T'Pol. They had agreed before this mission to exchange letters. It wasn't so much to keep tabs on each other's husband, more to reassure each other that all was okay.
Even though they were still in subspace range and Gardner was really giving them a lot of leash, they had agreed not to abuse that leniency and they already had used subspace resources for a purely private call, so written communication would have to do for now. Having finished her letter, she read it in one piece.
Hi T'Pol,
I'm sorry for taking three days to reply, but the last three days have been quite busy. I must say, I'm not envying you the task of keeping an eye on Trip 's workload . He's been working himself hard. People back home didn't quite think about how much more organizational talent and resources are needed to keep a ship running that has more than three times the crew of an NX class. Thank god for Terval. He's really been a great help. When Trip and I shuffle home after a double shift, he just soldiers on organizing the masses. I doubt he has slept more than two or three time since we've been underway. That would explain Amanda's foul mood.
I can't believe you told Malcolm that we know about their secret eyeing of our bits. Knowing him, he will find some lame excuse for not going into the shower with you again. Just as I thought he's loosening up a bit. He's still so uptight sometimes. Don't take it so literally, but please try to get him to understand that we're really okay with it. Malcolm usually retracts back into his shell if he's embarrassed. But keep it to yourself that we're actually getting a kick out of their appreciative looks. There are some things that the two of them don't need to know. ;-)
We should really let the guys get sloshed one day. (Of course with us around to make sure they don't do anything stupid.) Trip is so funny when he's had a few too many. Don't worry, he's one of the best-behaved drunks I've ever seen and I've seen a lot back in the days at STC. You wouldn't believe the things you can learn about your hubby, when his tongue has been loosened – I spent most of the way hauling him back to his quarters giggling like a schoolgirl. But that's something I'm going to tell you when we're back. It's time for a girls' evening anyway. Not that I don't like playing cards with Trip or hanging out with T'Pau in the spa, but it's been a while since we had a whole evening to ourselves without the boys around to blush when we talk about the really interesting topics.
Your better half is already snoring peacefully on the bunk and once I've sent the letter, I'll call it a night, too. Thank you for your trust as far as the dress code goes, but I won't die from wearing a shirt for a few weeks. This isn't a pleasure cruise and Trip is more relaxed when I'm properly dressed under the sheets. It's a bit like he's had a complete personality transplant. Today with a couple of ales in his system he made the first joke since we shipped out. I can't say I like the serious Trip, but then that's what we need on this mission. I had honestly not thought he still has it in him. He never was so keen to command a ship in the first place. But it just shows me how right our decision is to call it quits when the war is over. Nice to know we can still do the job, but I prefer to be able to let my hair down (and/or the pants), and I definitely prefer Trip when he's funny and playful, not his serious self minding a tricky job.
I'll call it quits now, it's really late and we are launching in seven hours. Please give Malcolm a hug from me, but warn him beforehand or he'll freak out ;-)
We miss you both, love Hoshi.
She encrypted the file and put it in the send queue. The next comms main cycle in two hours was about to bulk transfer it to the next subspace buoy together with other communications with Starfleet or relatives of the crew.
Hoshi undressed and threw her clothes into the laundry chute. After putting on a fresh pair of blue Starfleet underpants from the locker and a plain gray t-shirt she crawled under the sheets and slung her arms around the waist of her friend. Reassured by his solid warmth, she soon drifted off to sleep.
=/\=
Trip checked the readiness report and the completion bar jumped to one hundred percent. Thirty-five ships had checked in to indicate their status as 'ready'. He stood up when Hoshi gave him the sign that fleet-wide connection had been established.
George Patton.
Picking up her silently mouthed hint he sent her a grateful smile that shortly after gave way to a more serious face expression again.
"This is fleet captain Charles Tucker III. I could launch into a pathetic motivational speech, but that would just bore the Vulcans out of their mind, so I'll keep it short and paraphrase the great George Patton: 'I don't care what species you are, as long as you go out there killing those Romulan sons of bitches. If you ever need me, you can find me on the lead ship at the business end of the battle'. Goodspeed everybody."
Trip gave the Andorians a moment to finish their menacing war cry that Tholos excitedly joined in.
"Alright, war time cruising formation, warp six-oh on my mark," he ordered. "Now!"
A heavily armed fleet of human, Vulcan and Andorian ships zipped out after Molotok, heading toward Romulan space.
=/\=
Malcolm was shaking, looking down at the dreaded element as it sloshed lazily back and forth after T'Pau had glided effortlessly into the bathtub. She had quickly turned around to face him, and his trembling fingers could barely meet with her own offered hand. She used both of hers to enclose his.
"You should not have let so much time pass since we last met here," she admonished him softly. "Your fear has had time to build up again due to your evading the water for an extended time. If you really want to overcome your fear you must not let that happen."
"I know," he sighed and his consternation turned to anger. "But I can't just take a bloody wellness bath when my wife and my best friend are out there on a deadly mission. I should be there to protect them, not dealing with a luxury problem for crying out loud."
"You know that isn't possible," T'Pau insisted, gently tugging his hand, and he took it as a sign to make the step down into the water. Agonizingly slowly he stepped down the stairs into the tub. He jumped down from the second to last step and a frightened shriek escaped from him. He had slipped upon landing and his head had momentarily dipped into the water. He felt his face heat up with a blush of embarrassment. T'Pau – bless her – did not comment at it.
"Doing your job here with T'Pol is equally as important," T'Pau said, while Malcolm continued to stare at the water. "Remember that winning this contract is crucial for your future."
"It will be quite useless if they don't come back," he ranted, still trying to glare the water into leaving him alone.
"Have you so little faith in your friend's command abilities?" she asked and he felt a little embarrassed about having given her the impression of thinking that Trip wasn't up to the job without having him there to cover for him.
"Trip is a fighter," he said, shaking his head. "He'll get the job done. I just hate being unable to do anything."
"You could restart fighting your fear," she suggested and he looked over at her. "Would it not be something that would give Hoshi much pleasure if you could invite her here upon your return without needing my presence for support?"
"Righto..., hand, please," he demanded, with renewed determination to get the job done. He suppressed a sigh as he got out of the tub. What was it with him getting pep talks from Vulcans lately?
T'Pau offered her hand again as he re-entered the tub, a lot quicker this time than during his first attempt.
=/\=
"How's your head?" Hoshi asked, stepping into his ready room.
"I suppose better than Jon's," he said with a lopsided grin. She returned his light hug. "You're a peach, Hoshi. Thanks for that hypospray."
"You're welcome," she said, stepping out of his embrace, thankful for the short touch. Since transforming to his serious self, Trip had become a bit miserly with the simple, yet reassuring touches they normally exchanged during the day. "What did you ask me here for?"
"Letter for you came in on our private channel, so I guess it's from Mal. I'll be out on the bridge getting sitreps. Take your time. Best you answer it right away; we'll hit Rommie space tomorrow."
"Thanks, buddy," she said and kissed him on the cheek. He sent her a fleeting smile, before his face returned to its serious mien again. She watched him walk out, looking at him wistfully. She hoped this would be over soon, so she could see him more relaxed again.
Sitting down, she opened the letter that of course was from T'Pol. Malcolm wasn't the type to send longing love-letters, or any letter in fact. Knowing him he was probably looking for something to do to take his mind off their being apart.
T'Pol had really done a number on the encryption, Hoshi thought to herself as she cracked the cipher. There had to be a story in it if she made it even a bit challenging to get past the scramble algorithm.
Dear Hoshi,
Apologies for the delay of your answer are not necessary. It was logical to expect that your current mission would not afford you too much time to engage in private communication. Considering the circumstances I was pleasantly surprised about the length of your communication.
I concur with your assessment that the current command structure is too lean to effectively run a Molotok class ship and Malcolm and I will immediately start to devise a more suitable organizational structure for proposal to Starfleet. It will also give Malcolm something to do to distract him from the strain of being separated from you.
I feel myself compelled to ask your forgiveness for making him uncomfortable. He did indeed refuse to shower with me after the training at first. But it appears he has overcome his embarrassment fairly quickly. It would have been unfortunate if he had declined to continue beingmy training partner. He is a most adept fighter and able to challenge my skills quite significantly.
As for the consumption of beverages: Considering that we allowed ourselves to have 'one too many' during our last private evening, it would only be fair to afford the men the same privilege, albeit not too often, much less regularly. I am not averse to repeating our own tasting of sparkling wine as its impact on the Vulcan mind was most fascinating, but of course the experience would be strictly rooted in scientific interest. That goes without saying. (In absence of any textual representation, imagine a raised eyebrow here.)
Regarding Trip's 'personality transplant': I do of course know that he is capable of settling back into a wartime mindset. I concur with you in your finding experiencing this side of his character disagreeable. But, as you said, it is what the mission demands. Please lend him strength to perform adequately. I cannot tell you how great my gratitude is for all the support you have afforded him in the last weeks both here and now on the ship. It is a source of great relief to know that he is not alone on this assignment.
Other than that Malcolm asks me to convey that he was 'bloody relieved' that I have warned him before the embrace and he expresses his gratitude for the gesture. I look forward most impatiently to your return as I am curious to learn what my beloved has revealed when his inhibitions were lowered. I could indeed use some help in bringing more variety to our intimate relations. Trip would of course never say anything, but I have sensed a fair amount of time ago that he would wish me to be more 'adventurous'.
In an attempt to evaluate the interests of the human crew I researched the anonymous access statistics of the station's entertainment system and watched the most popular movie, a product named 'Debbie does the Alpha Quadrant'. It is fair to say that despite its apparent popularity it would not be appropriate to be shown on movie night. While its rather volatile story did provide some suggestions of techniques that Trip and I have never attempted, I have lingering doubts about the presented scenes being representative of human nature. I believe it would be more prudent to rely on your counsel, which would make a 'sleep-over' indeed a most welcome opportunity to exchange ideas.
It was agreeable to read that Trip was well-behaved when inebriated, but I have learned long ago that his claims of 'being a perfect gentlemen' were more than empty ones. I often find myself humiliated by the fact that I once thought poorly of him in the early years of our mission. Please also embrace my mate in my stead and, if it does not make him too uncomfortable, please give him a kiss as I find myself unable to do so at the moment.
I too miss both of you, sincerely, T'Pol.
=/\=
The Suurok class cruisers hung back as backups while a large number of Kumari class ships criss-crossed all over space in a seemingly erratic pattern with the huge new ship diving into little spaces in between them to cover ships that simulated damage. It did so with fascinating accuracy, but also with an unsettling risk of collision. Whoever was operating the navigation console of the vessel was a true master at this task.
"A most impressive display," tactical office Torak summarized and Captain Sopek found himself in complete agreement with his officer's assessment.
"Fleet captain Tucker appears to foresee a large-scale battle with Rihanssu ships," the Vulcan added. "Is that your opinion, too, Subcommander?"
"Undoubtedly," the man behind the weapons console agreed. "The supremely maneuverable Andorian ships appear to emulate a swarm of insects, making them hard to target. The opponent will need to rely on hits by chance or will lose too much time trying to establish a weapons lock."
"Our part in the operation?" Sopek asked shortly and efficiently.
"The three Vulcan ships will guard the rear of the fleet, coming to the aid of beleaguered Andorian ships. We also act as backups for the three human NX class ships."
"Excellent, Subcommander. Find the ship in distress and move to protect it. Upon success, signal completion of the exercise to the lead ship."
=/\=
Hoshi sat back down in Trip's ready room to answer T'Pol's letter after Trip had summoned her to the bridge to command the ship during one last large-scale tactical exercise. From now on it was 'Next stop: Romulan space'.
Hi T'Pol,
I was about to have a bit of fun asking you which parts of that porn flick you found 'intriguing', but I just can't get into the mood for that right now. We have just finished the last tactical drill and are now making a beeline for the Unroth system at six-five. It starts to hit home what we are really going into. Six more hours and we'll be in Romulan space and we are only 18 hours from probably the bloodiest battle yet.
If something happens to me or Trip, please don't forget the promise we all gave and take good care of each other. I wanted to get Trip to give me a few words for you or Malcolm, but he's refusing to think that we won't come back. In a way his determination is good for crew morale, so it's left to me to tell you both that we love you. I could tell you not to worry, but that would be silly as you will do so anyway. Don't try to keep up appearances; ask Mal for help if you need it.
Love you, Trip & Hoshi
=/\=
"Thirty minutes to Romulan space, Captain," Travis reported and Trip got out of his chair.
"Drop the package, Hoshi," he said and after a while her nod acknowledged that a large communications burst was on its way carrying last greetings and last wills of crew members, ready to be handed out to next of kin should their loved ones not come back. He forced himself not to speculate about how many of them he was going to order to their death.
He looked at her and the encouraging smile that he had almost come to expect did not materialize; their situation was too grave for that.
"Text only priority communication to all fleet, Commander: Last call for long range communication. All ships to battle stations. Initiate silent running protocol Reed-Alpha-Two. Permanent long range scans, passive only. Preload all weapon systems. Tucker out."
He watched her fingers fly over the touch screen of her console as she typed the text he had recited. Another nod and the communication went out, and only a few minutes later the bridge was shrouded in eerie silence as the constant exchange of telemetry between ships died down and the associated beeps and noises from various consoles disappeared. The quiet was deafening as the ship continued to glide towards Unroth IV – the presumed location of a huge Romulan ship building complex.
=/\=
Soval sat next to the clan's matriarch T'Para on the bench, as ramrod straight as their respective ages allowed them when the relayed signal from the United Earth Embassy came in. While on Vulcan one simply filtered pertinent information from the planetary public database, Humans apparently preferred to have their information read to them, adorned with schematics, images and diagrams.
A young female was waiting for the introductory sound to finish before addressing the audience.
Good Evening Lady and Gentlemen, This is the United Earth Broadcasting Corporation with the latest news.
San Francisco: The press office of the United Coalition of Planets has announced that sixteen hours ago an attack force of Earth, Vulcan and Andorian forces under the command of Fleet Captain Charles Anthony Tucker III penetrated Romulan space on a mission to conduct a preemptive strike against a major military installation of the Romulan Star Empire.
In an unusually frank statement, the Chief of Public Relations told the assembled media to prepare their audiences for substantial loss of life, but the Coalition is convinced that, however costly, the strike is necessary and justifiable. If it succeeds, the loss of the military resources will force the enemy to abandon all substantial offensive measures for at least two years, which would enable the Coalition to build up a fleet capable of mounting a decisive attack.
We now broadcast a public address of the acting Commander in Chief of the forces of the United Coalition Of Planets, Admiral Samuel William Gardner in all coalition languages.
When the menu came up, the Eldest Mother swiftly selected human standard as the language for the broadcast. Soval attempted not to be too obvious in his surprise.
"You have never been able to be subtle, Soval."
He bowed his head in acceptance of her reproach.
"There are fifty-three sons and daughters of our clan on those ships, Soval," she continued and the First Minister and male Elder of the clan could barely contain his surprise at the soft tone of the matriarch's voice. It was the second time in as many weeks he experienced this heretofore unheard-of lapse in the steely discipline of the clan's most established Koh'linar master.
"I will not listen to their gallantry being depreciated by the passionless sound of our own language. Many of the children will not return, Soval."
Following an impulse, caused by the powerful emotions her words stirred in him, his hand ever so lightly touched hers and the short touch-telepathic contact almost incapacitated him as his mind was torn by a debilitating torrent of pain and grief. Ready to be admonished for the unseemly contact he waited for her reply, but none came and the broadcast began. The male human was clearly struggling to reign in his emotions.
My fellow Andorians, humans, Tellarites, Vulcans, Denobulans and members of other species,
As I speak, a force of four thousand, three hundred and twenty-seven Andorians, humans, Vulcans, Tellarites and Denobulans is just hours away from the bloodiest battle our worlds have ever seen. Too many of those brave males, females, zhen, chen, thaan and chan will not come back to their loved ones. Each and every one of them will be one loss too many, but their gallantry shall be revered on all our worlds as their sacrifice will save billions of lives.
If you follow a religion, I beg you to pray for these brave children of our worlds. Whatever rituals your culture provides, I beg you to conduct them to allow as many of them to return home safely.
Godspeed, children.
Soval's nostrils were flaring as he was almost overcome by emotion. The human had barely managed to finish his speech before emotion won over his restraint and he found himself in the same predicament.
"We must meditate, Soval," the matriarch ordered and he followed her toward her ancient meditation chamber.
When they arrived the matriarch did not light only a single meditation candle as would have been sufficient for them. She also lined up four more on the ground and lit them.
"It is a human custom," she answered his unspoken question. "One for Charles, Hoshi, Lorian and Amanda each."
He wordlessly accepted her explanation and sat down to meditate.
=/\=
"Two Romulan scout ships, lightly armed," Tolos reported. "Bearing two-niner-niner mark four."
Trip looked back and ran his thumb across his throat. Two torpedoes flew out of the launcher and vaporized the Romulan ships upon impact. Silently the ship glided through the debris field.
"They were sent to snuff us out. Active scans, maximum range, Lieutenant," he ordered.
"Twenty birds-of-prey, six warbirds coming in somewhat chaotically. They are forming a defensive block around the facility. I don't think they were expecting guests. Fifteen minutes until weapons range."
"Commander," Trip said, turning around to look at Hoshi. "Give me Shran and then Lorian in the ready room and join me when you're done. Tholos, you have the bridge."
=/\=
"It doesn't look good, captain," Shran said, his antennae flattened on top of his head.
"I know." The pink-skin nodded shortly. "We'll distract the dogs, and you, Julia and Lorian redecorate the house. Sopek and Muroc will cover your asses. Send Amanda and her folks in to mine the damn thing. Keep me updated."
"Good hunting, pink-skin."
"Godspeed, Papa Smurf."
=/\=
Hoshi came in just after she had routed both Shran and Lorian through – in that order. She observed the quiet but emotional exchange between father and son, trying not to get too emotional herself.
"Good luck to you, too, godmother Hoshi," Trip and T'Pol's time-displaced son said softly, and Hoshi barely managed to hold back her tears. For lack of words, she just put her fingers on the view screen and Lorian did the same.
"Keep Shran's ass in line," she said, trying to regain her composure.
When Lorian's face had disappeared she threw her arms around Trip's neck and kissed him hard – squarely on the mouth. Completely taken by surprise he returned the favor.
"Hoshi," she heard him mutter indistinctly.
"T'Pol asked me to give you one for her and I wanted to connect the two of you when it mattered most," she said breathlessly, still hugging him. "Love you buddy. Now let's get this job done."
They walked out of the ready room, just as Tholos reported approach to weapons range.
=/\=
"Bridge, we are ready to launch," Amanda Cole reported as she spooled up the engine on Starfleet's newest toy – the Scorpion, a 12 seat, full-impulse shuttle for orbital insertions, featuring defensive shielding and four turret canons. Their task was clear: Invade the complex, mine it, download as much data as possible and get out. Every enemy was to be killed on sight. There was no space for prisoners.
As the doors of the launch bay opened she directed the vehicle out, trying to navigate the carnage outside as inconspicuously as possible.
=/\=
"Dive in, Travis, find us a gap. Tholos, all tubes, all directions, full spread," Trip yelled, his hands cramped white-knuckled around the edges of his arm-rests. The ship was rocked hard by incoming enemy fire and impacts of debris – friend and enemy ships' alike – on the shielding around the hull. He held his breath as Travis directed the ship into an opening in between a group of birds-of-prey that looked barely big enough to swallow their vessel. Tholos and his team rained torpedoes, phaser blasts and cannon fire in all directions as Molotok dove in between the enemy ships like a shark into a swarm of fish.
Everybody held on to his or her console as the metal of the ship's hull started to whine and creak under the brutal strain.
=/\=
"They are fierce warriors, yes they are," Captain Akaani said with appreciation in his peculiar norther accent. Blue blood ran down his temple. The whole bridge of the Amarith was a burning debris field. Most of his trusted officers lay on the ground, their bodies bloodied and lifeless. Only Thev, a junior weapons officer, was still able to function.
"Thev, target the next enemy," the Captain demanded. "And release the pod with our crew's blood vials. We will not return, under any circumstances"
Akaani smiled grimly, his antennae thrust forward aggressively.
"Find me a warbird, Thev," Akaani ordered. "Full impulse."
Spending its last energy reserves, the Amarith changed course and headed toward one of the three remaining huge Romulan warbirds.
=/\=
"Scan for a vial-pod, Tholos," Trip said briefly, as the crippled Kumari cruiser crashed head-on into a Romulan warbird. The huge green vessel and the Andorian ship exploded in a combined, blinding fireball.
"Captain Veri'trlek T'huakaani Mh'karian," Tholos called out gravely as the small pod dematerialized in Molotok's matter transport beam.
It was at least the fourteenth Captain's name the Andorian had called out – fourteen Kumari cruisers lost with all hands. The escape pods with Andorian blood vials were piling up.
"Find me someone to kill," Trip growled in a desperate frenzy of pain and rage.
"Warbird on two o'clock," Travis called out and Tholos emitted a bloodcurdling cry of agonized hate as he emptied four torpedo tubes into the path of the attacker. Huge explosions rocked the enemy ship and even after it had started to break apart, Tholos kept pounding it with pulse canon fire, still screaming his war cry.
Trip was knocked bodily out of his chair when the ship was rocked by enemy hits to their stern.
"L-four-hundred," he cried out, still lying on the ground, and the helmsman forced the ship into a looping roll, just as Enterprise had done with the Klingon attacker in the thermobaric cloud. Trip could barely believe that that had been three years ago. He couldn't even believe he was having such thoughts while fighting for their very survival.
"THOLOS!" he demanded in rage. Two torpedo salvos and a final goodbye from the pulse cannon later the Romulan ship exploded. "Leave that damned scrapheap and find me the NEXT!"
As the Andorian nodded, looking slightly abashed at having gotten carried away for a moment, Trip got himself back into the captain's chair. Blood from a nasty cut above his eyebrow dripped down on his uniform, but he just wiped it away; he had no time to deal with that now.
"Last warbird on one-seven-nine mark three," Tholos reported.
"Show me how well she handles, Travis," Trip ordered, and the helmsman forced the ship into a steep U-turn. Soon enough the last large battle cruiser of the Romulans came into view.
"All weapons?" the ship's captain demanded as the Romulan disruptor beams impacted on the weakened shields.
"Hull breach on K deck," Hoshi reported after a massive hit that rocked the ship violently. Her voice broke when she reported: "We've lost at least forty."
"THOLOS!" Trip snarled.
Weapons fire impacted with the approaching enemy ship and Molotok was hurled sideways when the attacker exploded in a massive fireball. The Romulans had tried to ram them, but they had hit them literally at the last second.
"Regroup the fleet. We're staging a massacre!" Trip called out savagely, and the remaining ships assembled around the battered lead ship. Only eight Romulan ships were left, the smaller birds-of-prey, although 'small' was pretty relative in regard to their ships.
A look at the tactical display told him that sixteen Kumari-class cruisers – out of initially forty – plus two Vulcan cruisers and Shran and Lorian's ships were left. Julia Fletcher and Columbia had been lost with all hands, along with a Vulcan Suurok class and twenty-four Andorian ships.
"No mercy!" Trip shouted into the ship-wide connection, and all ships descended on the remaining Romulan vessels. It took another thirty minutes to eliminate them and it cost another Vulcan ship and five more Kumari cruisers.
Trip heard Tholos howl in agony when the very last shot fired in the battle destroyed one of the five escape pods with Andorian blood vials from the lost ships.
Molotok swept around just as the Scorpion with the MACO forces left the station.
"The station is ready to blow up!" Shran shouted through his channel to the lead ship. Get out of..."
The Andorian's voice was lost as Hoshi turned around and interrupted him. "They've lost all systems. The station emitted some sort of energy surge and their shields went down."
"Shran, take the fleet outta here," Trip roared. "We'll get them!"
=/\=
Soval lunged forward when a gust of wind – that could not possibly exist inside the Eldest's dwelling – threatened to extinguish one of the candles. Groaning with the strain that the violent movement put on his aging muscles, he threw himself on the ground and cupped his hands around the candle that the Eldest mother had designated to Amanda. Its flame flickered, but his action had saved it.
"Darkness lies ahead," he heard the clan's matriarch mutter in apparent pain. He had no reply as he sought to keep the flame from dying.
=/\=
"Pink Skin! You can't survive the blast!" he heard Shran's shouts through the comms channel.
"Court martial me, Papa Smurf," Trip replied. "Travis, open the cargo door and scoop them up! Don't try to make it tidy."
Molotok swept past close to the huge Romulan installation as first explosions started to break up its hull. A horrible screeching sound attacked their ears as Travis tilted the ship downwards to slow the stricken Scorpion's impact when he scooped the shuttle up through the open cargo door that was rapidly closing afterwards.
"Get us..."
Trip didn't get to finish the sentence as the ship was hit brutally by an avalanche of debris when the whole Romulan shipyard exploded.
Hoshi shrieked at the top of her lungs when a central support beam and parts of the bridge ceiling collapsed, burying Trip below them.