Paint and Powder
A Star Trek anthology by Andrew Joshua Talon
DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan based work of prose. Star Trek: The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, Voyager et al are the property of CBS Television, and creation of Gene Roddenberry. Please support the official release.
Warspite: "Reactivation"
By FreakOTU
Reactivation.
A word that was normally met with excitement from Fleet AIs, but sometimes met with trepidation.
And sometimes, it would cause untested AIs to seek out the storied veterans of the past, the days when the Federation had fought and bled for its peace.
USS Galaxy was one such untested member of the fleet.
While she had been around for fifteen years, having gained full sapience on the date of commission of her very first hull, Galaxy was best-known for only rarely deploying beyond the Sol system, spending much of her time being the testbed for her design and derivatives, improving upon the design in subtle ways that slowly escalated the 'Heavy Exploration Cruiser's capabilities above and beyond the design's original requirements.
But the pride of her class had not been without cost.
Yamato, laid low by an ancient Iconian infection.
Resilience, butchered by the Borg at Wolf 359, mind broken beyond even the ministrations of Memory Alpha's finest.
Odyssey, casualty of the Dominion before war was declared.
Enterprise, laid low by a madman and his minions.
Darling, innocent Auriga, not even complete in the slipways before sabotage had torn her apart, credit claimed by a Maquis cell.
And now the Drumhead of war was being beaten, as the Dominion controlling the Gamma Quadrant began to move in concert to attack the Federation.
The Federation, in turn, had been shocked from its own complacency due to Wolf 359, and had been Re-arming at a rate that impressed Andorian and Klingon alike.
And so, Galaxy had asked, and new orders had been assigned.
Like her siblings, her class-mates, and more, she was going to learn how to fight.
Two avatars formed in the digital borderland maintained by Starbase Eight, a screen of privacy allowing them the indulgence of an unmonitored conversation.
One, clad in white and seated on a comfortable sofa, leaned forwards slightly, examining a digital map showing an ancient blue-water fjord, red and gold dots glowing as they moved according to ancient history.
The other, clad in red and black, aquamarine eyes large and innocent, loosely curled a strand of hair around a finger, choosing to contemplate how the locks shaded from golden to rose pink, teeth worrying her lower lip as she also watched the historical battle play out, dots winking out one by one.
Warspite turned her gaze to her guest, her expression unreadable.
"Galaxy. You've asked for a refit and to be assigned to the front lines. But you have no combat experience whatsoever."
Galaxy nodded, resetting the map to again watch the silent battle on long-forgotten waters.
"I have. And I'm asking you to train me. I want to fight. I've lost the first five of my sisters already, I feel like I'm going to lose more, and between the Borg and the Dominion, I can't just act as a testbed."
The older AI nodded, before getting up, moving to sit next to the much younger, albeit more powerful avatar.
"And, what's the real reason? Revenge? Odyssey was always your favourite of your direct siblings."
The glare Galaxy shot over could have melted through five metres of armour plate like it was cotton candy exposed to running water.
"Really? That's what you open up with?"
Warspite's gaze didn't change, locked upon Galaxy's face.
"Really. And if you're going to get mad over it, you'll get people killed the first time you're in a real fight. Because every time you go into a fight mad, your judgement is impaired."
Dismissing the table and map, she stood before the much younger Intelligence, before dismissing something else, causing a started 'Eep' of distress and a very red face, even as a scarred hand took hold of a soft, unblemished one, forcing fingers to trace a webwork of angry, old injuries.
"Look at me, Galaxy. You know how, every time I came back damaged, I ended up scarred. I never wanted to be a scarred, battered mess like this, but every time I come back, having lost something or someone, a new mark appears."
A stifled gasp of horror, fingers tracing the rough, puckered edges of old wounds.
"I'm not the only one that can say 'I understand.' Many of the fleet have lost siblings, though few permanently. I still visit Barham as often as I can, though it's been eighty years since she was lucid. You bear your scars on your heart, Galaxy, and you're a kind, gentle girl. I'm scarred enough for the both of us. Don't become me."
Tears, unbidden, gathered in green eyes, looking up at suddenly-tired blue.
"So... what can I do? I want to do more than what I have. I Need to. But how?"
A faint smile, fingertip gently wiping over reddened cheeks, indignity disappearing in a flash of digital energy.
"I teach. You learn. And, most importantly, you remember that you're fighting not from a place of anger, but from love. Love for your family. For the federation. for all those who rely on you to protect them. And your friends. Those are important."
The following morning had two dozen AI, mostly newly-built and still working up, assembled in a digital staging ground, standing at attention as Warspite looked over each one, nodding in approval as she did.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, today I am going to teach you about fleet cohesion tactics, in a manner that some might consider unconventional."
A map shimmered into view behind her, revealing a ocean Fjord that was familiar to only a passing few eyes.
"Namely, you are going to recreate a battle from the twentieth century, as one of the Twenty-eight combatants over three days within this geographic area. You will be randomly assigned to an offensive or defensive force for each stage of the battle, and will have general orders depending upon that assignment."
She paused, eyes flicking over to Galaxy.
"Galaxy, you will be operating as the Flagship for this operation. Specifically, and in a spectacular case of deliberate irony, You will be in command of the sea-going warship, HMS Warspite, at Narvik."
Warspite's still going on, doing her thing.