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Editor's Note II: Here it is, the 'Season Finale' quote unquote. If you want all the timeline/character lore, be sure to check out my BlueSky under KatlineStorm! With that, I hope you enjoy -Yours truly, K.S.
"No, Hikaru, you have to twist the magnetic flow regulator," McCoy said over Sulu's shoulder.
"If I twist the MFR, I'm going to create a feedback loop, Doctor, and shock both myself and whoever happens to be leering over my shoulder," Sulu responded brusquely.
They were hunched over the artificial gravity access hatch, both having spent the last ten minutes unsuccessfully trying to restart the system. McCoy's lack of engineering knowledge, combined with his doctor's sense of correctness, had certainly not made the job any easier on Sulu, who was relying on decade-old extension courses and what bits of advice he'd picked up over the years. Together they'd certainly done a number on the controls for the system without actually making any progress.
McCoy raised his hands defensively, "I'm not leering, I'm doing my job as senior officer and advising you."
"I could be up for my own command in another year, and you're talking about seniority, Doctor?" Sulu said with a smile that made McCoy's bones ache with age. The doctor rolled his eyes and stood up.
"Don't remind me that time keeps moving, Hikaru. I can barely stand to see the wrinkles on my face, let alone knowing someone was born after twenty-two thirty."
"Now I know why you were late to so many of our lunches," Sulu said, going back to fiddling with the control panel.
McCoy was prepared to respond when, suddenly, the overhead lights struggled to life. The hum of the massive electrical system of the starship vibrated under his boots, and- Hey, he was on the ground again! Hallelujah for the small miracles! Unfortunately, turning his head back towards Kirk and Spock meant he saw the viewscreen warble back on as well- and was grimly reminded of the massed Cardassian-Dominion fleet just beyond.
Kirk had sat in his chair, hands folded, in silent contemplation the entire time the power had been off. Spock had dutifully stood next to him in companionable, if tense, silence. Both were mentally thinking through any number of solutions to the current dilemma in their own ways, but, unlike the old days, neither had spoken a word to each other as they did so. McCoy was damned unnerved by it, to say the least.
The restoration of power seemed to reawaken both men, as Kirk sat up and Spock straightened his posture. The lighting on the bridge rose to its normal level before darkening again, the red alert status now booted back up as well. Kirk opened a communications channel to the below decks.
"Admiral Kirk to Ensign Saavik, report."
Although somewhat fizzled in static, Saavik's reply came through moments later, "Saavik to Kirk. Power has been successfully diverted from the automated engineering intelligence to primary power."
"Will it hold, Ensign?"
"Aye, sir. However, all engineering changes will have to be carried out by hand. If we try and tap the automated systems we are likely to lose power again."
Kirk thought for a moment and switched the communications channel.
"Kirk to Uhura."
"Uhura here."
Kirk shifted in his seat; his eyes fixated on the distant enemy lines. More debris from the battle had begun to float past and into the view of the bridge, and he was particularly concerned about the lack of action from the Dominion or Cardassian ships since the sudden betrayal. It made no damn sense.
"Uhura, get as many experienced hands as you can to engineering as soon as possible. We've restored power but the automated intelligence is out of the question, and then get up here."
"Understood sir, Uhura out."
Kirk flipped back to the other channel, "Kirk to Saavik. I want you and Castell'uchi back up here on the double." He closed it before she could respond.
"I don't like it Spock," He commented, "What are they doing out there?"
The response was cut off as they watched one of the Cardassian cruisers break off from the main fleet and turn towards the far Federation ships- the ones that had been involved in the flanking maneuver. Kirk magnified the viewscreen and wished he hadn't. Only pure human terror prevented him from correcting his mistake, as he found himself open-mouthed and stunned.
The Axanar was deliberately cut in half by a disruptor beam. It shattered moments later in a matter-antimatter explosion, but not before Kirk and company were witness to the bodies and debris flying out of the opened hull.
The Malcom Reed fell next. Its already crippled nacelle was destroyed, leading to a chain reaction across the ship that arced from the engineering drive right up through the hull. Unfortunately, due to the sturdy design of Federation ships, it did not fall immediately. Instead, muffled explosions ripped through the interior, their hellish-orange outlines barely visible through the hull plating. They rolled through the ship in a nauseating wave. Deck by deck, room by room, person by person. Finally, however, the inertia and rapidly expanding mass broke the hull apart and the ship became an intensely short-lived fireball.
The Dublin was felled by a singular torpedo through its bridge. The ship was not destroyed, but it began to fall back towards AR-558, caught in its gravity well. Black smoke trailed the gaping hole before it became a destructive comet that detonated on impact and sent shockwaves of dust and debris across the planetoid.
The Patton, Kirk remembered, had been retrofitted with special armored plating. Meant to absorb more blows and better distribute and defend against EMP attacks, the Patton was the first of its kind to be fitted with the gear. Unfortunately, it proved rather ineffective. It had bought them enough time to turn power back to their phasers, but they were hopelessly underpowered against Cardassian shields. A few pathetic phaser blasts bounced harmlessly off the Cardassian ship before a hail of torpedoes eviscerated the cruiser. It felt especially punitive as the torpedoes were undoubtedly overkill, as if it was one final damnation punishment for daring to resist.
Kirk was, inevitably, reminded of Juvia and the Bajorans.
The Cardassian cruiser finished its sweep and began to pull back towards the Vulcan's Fury and the rest of the Federation fleet. Kirk felt for the flask in his jacket pocket, but remembered where he was and thought better of it, but he kept his hand right where it was as the Cardassian ship grew closer and closer.
"It would appear they are now making a run at us, Admiral." Spock observed without the slightest hint of fear or emotion in his voice. Kirk envied him, he envied everyone else in the damn crew, and he was torn between wanting to chuck the hidden flask at Spock's pointed-ear head or simply rebuking all of them. What he would rebuke them for he wasn't sure, all he knew was he was simultaneously terrified and righteously angry.
Here he was, stuck in a living nightmare. It might not have been Kor or Darmak holding his dead loved ones in their grasp, but it was damn close. No, instead it was one he had lived and relived too many times. Outgunned, stranded, helpless, on a crippled starship, surrounded by the dead and soon-to-be-dead alike. All he could do was stare and facedown the Cardassian cruiser, knowing he was doomed, knowing it was over. At least in the nightmare he awoke as soon as the torpedo tore through the bridge, but this was one instance where he'd only plunge further and further into that infinite black abyss of death.
"The undiscovered country…" He murmured under his breath unconsciously.
"Admiral?" Spock rose a questioning brow, but Kirk waved him off.
"Just thinking of an old human saying, Spock, and how we're all about to discover it together."
Spock contemplated the words.
He… Contemplated them.
Serenely, easily. As if a Cardassian war machine wasn't bearing down on them, as if the lives of all the crew aboard the Fury weren't about to die a terrible death. How could that Vulcan be so damn calm? Kirk's pulse was racing and he wiped at his brow. His mouth was impossibly dry, and his breath hitched as he tried to inhale.
Kirk nearly jumped right out of his skin when the chirping of the incoming hail system sounded off. Indeed, when he looked down, he realized he had a death grip on the arms of the chair. Releasing it required quickly steadying his quaking hands. He pushed his hair back and coughed, wiping his brow yet again. He looked over to Spock, who had migrated to the communications console. The Vulcan looked up at Kirk.
"Incoming hail from the Cardassian ship, Admiral," He said, one hand pressed to the earphone, "They are not intent on destroying us as of yet."
"Prisoner?" Kirk snapped the quivering of his voice down quickly. A deep breath and a swift kick to his own shin brought him back to reality and composure, even as the pain reverberated up his legs.
Spock shook his head, "They are not willing to confirm at this time. However, it is likely their objective nonetheless."
Kirk shifted uneasily in his chair. On the one hand, they were down to worryingly few options. On the other hand, stalling could give him the time he needed to come up with a plan to get them out of here. There was little else he could do but swivel his chair back towards the viewscreen and order Spock to push the transmission through.
The Cardassian on the other end greeted him with some surprise, "Admiral Kirk!"
Kirk's jaw immediately set and his eyes narrowed, blazing with contempt.
The Cardassian smiled sickly, revealing two rows of yellowed teeth. There was no warmth there but for the bitter glowering of victory. His predatory eyes were fixated on Kirk, and he spoke with undeniable bravado.
"I must say," He lied, "I never expected to find you here, so far away from Deep Space Nine."
"Darmak," Kirk growled the name, "I'm surprised to find you here in this insignificant backwater."
Gul Darmak chortled, "Oh, my, insignificant you say? I'll have you know, Admiral," He said, leaning forward over his command console, speaking with deadly venom, "There is no such thing as an insignificant part of the Cardassian empire."
Kirk rapped the arm of his chair with his knuckles, maybe harder than he intended, "I don't intend to sit around all day listening to your unfettered boasting, Gul Darmak."
The Cardassian, however, intended to continue boasting whether Kirk wanted him to or not. He strode from behind his command console to come into full view of the Vulcan's Fury's bridge crew, hands alternating between folded behind his back and gesturing proudly as he denigrated the Federation, Kirk, and proudly spoke of his victory.
"Admiral, I don't think you're in a position to argue. Right now your entire attack fleet is disabled, much of it now destroyed, and you, the only ship still with power, is at the targeted center of over ten thousand warheads and several dozen disruptors," Darmak glanced to Kirk, his eyes not reciprocating the same glee in his voice, but hateful daggers instead, "You, Admiral Kirk, are not in a position to intend anything. As you have been a lapdog for your Federation, you are, now, going to be a very good and obedient young man for me.
Your Federation has launched an all out offensive that, as I'm sure you've concluded, has failed. The Dominion have sided with the true victors in this conflict, and have agreed to aid us until total victory has been achieved. Cardassian soldiers will burn your Academy to the ground, level your famous Paris capital, and ensure the execution of every member of your Star Fleet. Bajor will be razed to the ground, and Deep Space Nine will be in Cardassian hands once more. We will begin this new era with your death, Admiral."
Darmak puckered his lips, swooning over the idea, before presenting that horrid smile again. He folded his arms behind his back and came to a stop, glowering down at Kirk. His plan laid out, he had little more to say for the moment, and instead waited on his loathsome enemy's reaction that he so richly deserved.
Kirk did not disappoint.
"Darmak, you bloodsucker!" Kirk yelled, slamming his fist into his chair as he stood, "You think you've won?! You think it's all over because we're cornered?" Kirk marched up to the screen, wishing Darmak was here so he could throttle him personally, "A cornered, wounded animal is the most dangerous thing in the universe. It's unpredictable, it's deadly, and you've decided to place yourself front and center."
Darmak looked touched that Kirk reserved such vitriol for him. What he didn't see was the subtle hand signal Kirk flashed to Spock, who immediately began to make his way towards the tactical console. With all eyes on Kirk's outburst, the lone Vulcan would hardly be noticeable.
"What did you promise them, Darmak? Your fealty, your women, your firstborn child? The Dominion doesn't deal in absolutes, you high-necked freak, and they'll string you up first chance they get. What convinced them, huh?"
Darmak took a step back, turning to his crew with arms wide open.
"Do you see, men? Do you hear the fear in the Terran's voice?"
He turned, an accusing finger pointed at Kirk, "This is the caged, wounded animal that is the Federation. They are mighty in a flock, but alone they are scared sheep who run to their deaths, ignoring all the signs of danger," He announced, before giving Kirk his full attention again, "The Dominion was never truly on your side, Admiral. I will tell you something I'm certain you're unaware of: They have been on our side of the wormhole for months."
Darmak allowed Kirk a moment to process that information. Indeed, Kirk was staggered momentarily. How could the Dominion have gotten past Deep Space Nine? Let alone far enough to talk in secret with the Cardassians? Darmak seized on the initiative and kept going.
"These Dominion creatures are far more interesting than they've let you believe," His undisguised annoyance at Kirk's mere existence all the more prevalent now, "They're changelings, while these Jem'Hadar are only their foot soldiers. They've seeded themselves all over the galaxy. Bajor, Earth, Kronos, Romulus- they're everywhere, Admiral. They prefer order over the chaos of your democracy, security over your freedoms, and peace where you only wage war. Cardassia is the only power in the galaxy willing to take that role, to allow the Dominion to flourish, and we are proud to do so. You should have listened to Major Juvia," Darmak finished, "She knew better about them than you'll ever realize. But your unflinching willingness to obey your orders has amputated any chance you might have had."
Despite his best attempt to hide it, that one struck home. The sudden revelation of what the Dominion actually were confirmed his worst fears. It also meant that the Karemma were likely correct in their assertation of what the Dominion actually looked like. But Kirk had just wanted to knuckle under and get things done, to get Spock and the old crew out of his life again, to resume his exile on the frontier. He didn't doubt her, in point of fact he did believe it was a bad idea, and yet… And yet what did Darmak mean by she 'knew better' than he'd realize?
Kirk swallowed those thoughts and put on a brave face, matching Darmak's bravado as he stood, chest out, and declared, "That's all well and good, but there's just one problem, Darmak. We're not down and out yet."
The Cardassian was utterly confident, however, in his response. The pleasure in his voice failed to hide itself as the Cardassian wandered back over to his chair, "I'm afraid one ship will not be able to make the difference this time, Admiral," He paused before sitting, glancing back as if he'd almost forgotten about Kirk, "Neither would a fleet of your ships. I'm sorry, Admiral, but our little game is coming to an end."
"Not on your life," Kirk turned back, "Spock, now!"
"Engaging shields, Admiral," Spock said as he turned the last of the switches.
On a nearby readout, the shield indicator quickly formed its barrier around the Vulcan's Fury. At the same time, Spock unleashed a volley of photon torpedoes at the Cardassian-Dominion line.
The orange-yellow rockets spread out across space, racing towards their targets. All of them struck home, detonating across Cardassian and Dominion cruisers alike. Most of it was superficial damage to the Dominion ships, but one Cardassian capital ship flickered and began to dip back towards the planetoid as its systems failed.
"Dominion ships unaffected, Admiral," Spock reported, "One Cardassian cruiser incapacitated, twelve others have sustained light damage."
Kirk was already marching back to his chair, "Get us in a defensive position in front of the Monitor, initiate evasive maneuvers."
Spock prepared to comply, but that was before Darmak spoke up. The communication had never been severed, and the Cardassian had one last trap to spring. With one leg casually folded over the other, his smarmy, poisonous smile on full display, "You can run, Admiral Kirk, but you're going to be bringing some old friends along for the ride," Darmak announced.
The dazzling orange and purple transporter effects were visible before they were heard. The high-pitched whine of typical transporters was instead replaced by what sounded like glittering waves swirling around a brass cymbal. As they dissipated, the sound of battle erupted throughout not just the bridge but the entire ship; the yells of the Jem'Hadar, the firing of disruptors, and the gutting of Starfleet officers became the final symphony of an endless nightmare. A disruptor blast from Darmak's ship hit high on the hull and a shudder reverberated throughout the ship. The power conduits, already taxed by the strain of powering back up, exploded across the bridge's walls and ceilings. A pipe burst free and spewed smoke in a thick blanket across the bridge. Although it attempted to settle and dissipate on the floor, the ensuing fight whipped it into a frenzy like a stormy sea.
Saavik, Castell'uchi, and Uhura had just entered the bridge as the chaos erupted, but neither wasted a second on despair or shock. Their instincts and training taking over, all three leapt into the fray without a second thought. Castell'uchi phasered a Jem'Hadar away from Sulu, while Saavik quickly attacked one who was rushing at her, his sword drawn. Uhura grabbed an emergency repair kit off the wall and socked a Jem'Hadar over the head with the heavy bag, and then joined the fray herself.
Kirk, Spock, McCoy, and Sulu all found themselves assailed by multiple groups of the Jem'Hadar. It was almost reminiscent of fighting the Klingons, who rarely wasted time on blasters or phasers, and instead devolved into barbaric hand-to-hand combat. Spock easily, if stiffly, threw a charging soldier over his shoulder, before he caught and removed the dagger from another. A nerve-pinch and swift kick later and both were down, but more were quick to charge him. The others fought back as best they could.
McCoy and Sulu teamed up, back-to-back, and threw fists and kicks wherever they could. Backed into a corner there was little room to maneuver, but both men had taken part in their share of brawls and, in essence, this was no different. There were no rules, no expectations, just survival.
Kirk took a blow to the back of the head and collapsed to the deck. The liquor still in his system made it hurt so much worse. His sluggish reaction allowed him only enough time to roll away before he could be stomped on. The Jem'Hadar attacker, undaunted, tried once more. Kirk ducked underneath the sword and hooked his arms underneath the Jem'Hadar's. Unholstering the disruptor pistol attached to his enemy's belt, Kirk fired it directly into the Jem'Hadar's side.
The disruptor, much like its Klingon equivalent, had no stun or 'less-than-lethal' setting, and instead evaporated its target from the inside out. Kirk dropped the body and tried to fire again but found himself assailed by a duo of Jem'Hadar who forced the pistol from his hand. He slugged one across the chin, took a stiff uppercut to his gut, before firing back with a left hook and clubbing the Jem'Hadar across the back.
Saavik's upbringing on the desolate colony of Hellguard, combined with her training at Starfleet Academy, gave her an added edge in this fight. She, like her mentor, easily dispatched charging enemies, before becoming entangled with others in much closer combat. With Vulcan precision, she jammed tracheas, snapped collar bones, and targeted nerve clusters. A last second jump avoided the worst of a sword, which had cut her high on the cheek, and she used her momentum to leap back at her attacker, disarming him and knocking him unconscious in the process. More, still, came to assault her.
Castell'uchi forced her way through the crowd to protect Kirk. Her antennae gave her just enough precognition to avoid the worst tacks, absorb the others, and defend herself adequately. With phaser in one hand she dispatched a few in Kirk's blind spot, and with her other she deflected clubbing blows from incoming Jem'Hadar. Most Andorians did not understand the meaning of the word 'quit', but they understood the definition of 'war' very well, and Castell'uchi was an exemplary member of her species. Even as transporter beams deposited more Jem'Hadar on the bridge, she continued bravely.
The rest of the ship's crew fought just as hard. The misconception of Starfleet as merely explorers and scientists was a lesson even the Klingons had been forced to acknowledge, and the Jem'Hadar were learning the same now. Still, though, it was a hopeless fight. The Dominion were bred for battle, cloned and grown for it and nothing else. Even the heartiest Starfleet marine was ultimately no match for them.
Darmak, his view uninterrupted as the intruders overwhelmed the bridge crew, watched with interest. It was the perfect kind of drama for a man who thought himself so high and proud: Violence, the death of his enemies, and all arranged by his hand. He only regretfully cut the transmission and ordered his ship to return to the line, but he would cherish the death of James T. Kirk, the interloper who had ruined his genocide of the Bajorans, forever. He told his bridge crew as much, and ordered them to commit it to memory.
Somehow, in the fracas, Kirk and Spock had found themselves together. After years of experiences, they had developed a unique synchronicity. They could match each other in brains, brawn, and all manner of things. It helped them now as they fought side by side, back-to-back, for the first time in a very long time.
"Recommend evacuation, Admiral," Spock said easily, as if they weren't fighting for their lives.
"We can't leave all these crews here, Spock!" Kirk shouted back as he neatly dodged a jagged sword. It cut his arm up good and tore his jacket, but with the adrenaline pumping he hardly had time to notice.
"It is a futile effort, Jim," Spock replied, snapping the wrist of one Jem'Hadar before booting another in the stomach, "I will overrule you if necessary."
Kirk was out of breath, but even if he wasn't, fighting this many trained warriors was taxing in the extreme. Through the mass of bodies he caught glimpses of his fellow officers, his friends. They were all losing their own battles, overwhelmed and outgunned. Saavik was thrown into the bulkhead. Castell'uchi's jaw snapped sideways as a Jem'Hadar caught a lucky shot. McCoy and Sulu had covered up, just trying to protect themselves from the onslaught. Spock, he realized, was right.
Kirk ducked his shoulder and ran through a trio of Jem'Hadar, picking up Castell'uchi as he did so. Spock, simultaneously, used his Vulcan strength to use one Jem'Hadar as a ram against the others. Kirk ducked a haymaker, kicked in the knee of his attacker, and flipped open his communicator.
"Computer, seven to beam out to the nearest shuttlepod!"
The computer, unfeeling although aware of the intruders, complied with a few soft beeps. The transporters swallowed the bridge crew and rescued them from certain demise, depositing them safely in the Fury's lone hangar bay. The shuttlepod Constantinople sat silently, even as the sounds of distant fights could still be heard reverberating throughout the ship.
All of them were bloodied and bruised. Here, in the crisp lighting of the hangar, the damage appeared much worse than it had on the darkened bridge and smokey bridge. McCoy, despite his injuries, immediately began tending to Sulu and the others when he realized they were out of danger, pulling out an emergency medical kit he had strapped to his belt.
Kirk and Spock, both out of breath, shared a look before turning to help their friends up.
As Kirk hoisted Castell'uchi to her feet, he couldn't help but notice how strangely out of place he felt. Here he was, bleeding, uniform torn open, and likely welting in places he didn't even know existed. He'd just come from a bridge that was a cacophony of violence, with clashes of metal and screams of anger, and now stood in a rather empty hangar bay. It was quiet here, the hum of the light and the sound of distant laserfire all seemed rather humdrum compared to what he'd been through. It was an odd feeling, indeed, to be fleeing from battle like this.
Once the crew had gathered themselves and onboard the Constantinople, they triggered the hangar door release command. Immediately, all atmosphere was sucked away in a howling vortex, and the vast expanse of stars greeted them once more. Saavik gently nudged the little shuttlecraft out into space.
Kirk stood over her shoulder, leaning on the chair for support. Spock, as her co-pilot, busily checked the readouts to ensure the craft was operating at optimal efficiency. McCoy, now using the onboard medical supplies, worked over Sulu, Castell'uchi, and Uhura- the latter of whom did her best to deny McCoy's efforts so she could man the communications system.
"Spock, what're the Cardassians and Dominion doing?"
Spock checked the scanner, "They have begun to fan out and are methodically destroying the remaining Federation cruisers."
Kirk hung his head darkly, before forcing himself to ask the question, "And the Monitor?"
In answer to his question, a massive shockwave of energy rocketed the little ship. Various instruments jangled and the deckplates rattled, but that was the only sound that penetrated. Saavik kept them on course.
"Lost with all hands." Spock reported after the wave had subsided.
Kirk was prepared to collapse. His legs were weak, his body ached, and the intimate knowledge that he was repeating his own worst nightmare in real-time threatened to break him. Of course, he thought to himself, perhaps he had been a broken man for a long time indeed.
"Course, Admiral?" Saavik asked, looking over her shoulder at him. It wasn't much, and she wasn't very good at it, but the young Vulcan did her best to inject a modicum of empathy and comfort into her voice and her expression. She may not be able to understand his human emotions, but she knew what it was like to lose a fight. Even a Vulcan could experience a resounding level of defeat and hurt- especially for one as important as this mission had been.
Kirk did not have an immediate answer to vocalize, but he knew in his heart where he had to go. There was nowhere else they could go that was in range of the shuttlecraft at any rate. Still, it took several moments for Kirk to answer.
"Deep Space Nine, Saavik. We need to go back to Deep Space Nine."