"Captain!"
A body tackled him as a flaming chunk of debris fell from the ceiling, crushing the captain's chair beneath it.
Spock helped him up, both of them coughing as the bridge filled with more and more smoke. His arm draped over Spock's shoulders, Kirk wearily came to his feet. He hadn't been here for the ensuing chaos, but he felt exhausted nonetheless.
An ensign used a manual fire extinguisher to put out the fire.
"Are you alright, Captain?" Spock asked.
"What the hell's happening?" Kirk asked.
"The Cardassians have encircled us. We have destroyed or disabled twelve ships, but thirty cruisers remain," Spock shielded the both of them from a shower of sparks that cascaded out of a destroyed console.
"The Archer's warp core is heavily damaged," A voice from the viewscreen said, which Kirk recognized as Chekov, "Even a stray blast could take us out, and I am not certain we will survive longer without main power."
The young man looked like he'd been through hell. Blood was speckled on his cheeks, and the youthful exuberance and pride he carried was all but gone. A man doing his duty against the odds, focused only on survival, remained in his place.
The Enterprise's bridge was choked with black smoke, fires, and wreckage. The viewscreen warbled in and out of focus, and a few personnel were slumped at their stations or ragdolled on the floor. A damage report of the ship, flickering on a nearby wall panel, showed roughly forty percent of the ship's systems were offline. A chunk of the forward hull was missing, indicated by a gap in the wire-frame outline of the ship. The engines had been disabled, all that remained were the thrusters.
Hikaru Sulu, his face blacked by soot and his uniform torn at the arm, where a wound bled profusely, stared intently at the readouts from his console. He was single-handedly putting up the Enterprise's last, best defense, using every tool at his disposal to keep them from sinking for good.
Uhura stood at her station, her chair scattered clear across the deck, working tirelessly to maintain communication and cohesion throughout the massive ship. A thankless job in chaos like this, but one she could manage with ease.
The strangled chirping of the communications alarm came through the speakers.
"Incoming transmission," Uhura sounded off, "Sir, it's the Cardassians."
Kirk untangled himself from Spock, standing on his own two feet. The Vulcan glanced over him to ensure he was steady enough to stand on his own and then, satisfied, returned to his perfect posture.
"We might as well see what they want," Kirk said, adjusting his uniform, "On screen," Before adding, "If that's something we're still capable of."
The viewscreen was badly damaged, but it managed to transition, with no short amount of static, to the view of a Cardassian command bridge, splitting the picture between the new transmission and Chekov.
Unlike the Enterprise, which was choked with smoke and darkened to emergency lighting, the Cardassian bridge was well lit. Dull-gold and black, it was the very vision of a modern, efficient, military bridge. No flair, no fanciness, simple, utilitarian, if draconian, architecture.
The Cardassians, themselves, weren't much different.
Their grey or tan skin was off-putting as it was, but their high-necked bodies that seemed artificially inserted into their uniforms just added to their alien nature. Almost chain-mail in appearance, with sleek lapels crossing from shoulders to midsection that had Cardassian script on them, probably denoting rank, they made up an imposing, unfeeling, colourless visage. The reptilian nature of the Cardassians gave the ridges around their eye-sockets a striking appearance, the bones of the ridges protruding ever so slightly. Vestigial armored chins, which had become more cosmetic than anything else over millions of years of evolution, accentuated the predatory features, as did their completely slicked back black hair.
Efficient, cold, draconian. Unfeeling, but ever confident.
They almost reminded Kirk of the famous rendition of Death from the old flatvid 'The Seventh Seal'.
The Cardassian in the center seat spoke, "Federation members, you have invaded the natural sovereignty of the Cardassian Union."
His voice was in drastic opposition to his appearance. It oozed the same slimy charisma of a cult leader, a man who, by luck or drudgery, had become a force unto himself. Yet his candor was unbridled, and the cadence of his speech was reminiscent of a Machiavellian villain from the theatre. All of this told Kirk one thing: No matter what, he was a man so assured of victory that to doubt him would be dangerous at best.
The Cardassian's sickly smile curdled Kirk's stomach as he continued, "I am Gul Darmak of the Seventh Order, and by the authority of the Central Command I am informing you that your lives are hereby forfeit. You have no recourse, no rights, and no chance of escape. Surrender now and the Cardassian Union may see fit to find you a place of pride in the labor camps. Defy us at your leisure."
"I am Captain James T. Kirk of the United Federation of Planets," Kirk began, "We are subject to-"
"You are subject to nothing but the will of the Union," Darmak cut him off, before giving yet another uncomfortable smile, "And I know who you are. The Union has spent years appropriating your technology for our own, and it is my dearest," He put his hand to his chest, "Truest honour to show you the benefits we now enjoy thanks to the valiant efforts of our spies and engineers."
"You stole our technology?"
"Enhanced in many ways, as I'm sure you've found," Darmak sat back once more, hands on the sides of his chair as if he were a king on the throne, "The capture of your ship will be a prize for the Union. Your lives, however," He said, the smile fleeing from his face as he became deathly frank, slowing his speech not for effect but to ensure he was understood clearly, "Are of no importance. Whether you die in a prison camp or on your knees as my soldiers execute every last one of your crew is up to you, Captain Kirk."
"What about the other ship, huh? You going to string them up too?"
"What other ship?" Darmak feigned ignorance.
"Captain! Torpedo launch from lead Cardassian ship!" Sulu called out with a mixture of shock and horror.
Time seemed to slow in the next few moments.
Kirk recognized what was happening only too late. He tried to tell Sulu to extend the Enterprise's shields, whatever remained, to the Archer, but the sentence never finished. Darmak's transmission cut itself off, leaving only Chekov onscreen.
The young man, one of the best and brightest, realized what was happening. Instead of panicking, cowering, or running for his life in vain, Pavel Chekov did the only thing he could think of. Turning from his former crew, his family, he shouted at the others, ordering them to brace for impact. At the same time, he dove for Captain Reinarr, hoping to shield him from any debris with his own body.
His last act was a desperate attempt to save others, no matter the odds.
Three Cardassian warheads, brimstone come to life in space, slammed into the Archer, vaporizing it into nothingness.
The Enterprise bridge fell silent, all the oxygen pulled from the room, as the collective punch of reality set in.
Pavel Chekov, and the crew of the Archer, wiped from existence in a moment.
There will be no body to bury, no memory to put to rest, nothing but atoms and dust quickly escorted away by the solar winds.
An entire being evaporated in moments- perishing alongside hundreds of other souls. It was impossible. Nothing so callous or horrifying could happen so easily or quickly. Yet, it had. Dreams, hopes, futures, pasts, secrets- all gone.
For anyone, it would be a blow unparalleled. For any sentient with a sense of empathy, it would be an earth-shattering event- leaving nothing behind but a hopeless anguish, weak knees, and a heart broken into pieces.
For James Tiberius Kirk, the unlikely captain who had seen Pavel Chekov grow from an inexperienced but enthusiastic boy to a dependable, optimistic young man, it is devastation incomparable. Pavel Chekov had sought out his guidance, sat spellbound by his bravado and wisdom, for years, and Kirk had never been as proud of a man as he had been Chekov. A man without equal, Pavel was going to be a great leader one day, no matter where he went. Now, he never would be.
Silence where once stood a man, dust for his flesh, and emptiness for his soul.
Kirk, still not in control of his wits, marched over and took control of the helm station. Using his command authorization, he transferred captain's control into the console, and began diverting all remaining power to the engines. What little remained intact of the impulse engines would be used up now, for this one last move- a damning strike of anger into the heart of death itself.
Spock regained his sense quicker than the others, rushing to Kirk's side.
"Captain, what are you doing?" He inquired, his Vulcan stoicism taking back over.
Kirk, eyes watering, gritting his teeth, whipped his head towards Spock, "I'm going to ram the bastard."
Spock's surprise was muted, but for a Vulcan he may as well have shouted at Kirk.
"Jim, that is highly inadvisable. The Enterprise would be destroyed as well."
"Then that's the cost," Kirk turned his attention back to the console, firing up the engines.
The impulse engines roared to life, rocketing the Enterprise forward despite the strain. Gul Darmak's ship was dead ahead, directly in their sights. The hull and bridge would take the worst of the blow, but the impact would cascade through the rest of the ship- and maybe the radius of the explosion could take some of the other Cardassian warships with them.
As it was, nothing of the sort would happen. Gul Darmak's ship evaded them at the last moment.
The desperate, foolish maneuver wasn't for naught, though, as the Enterprise's hull dragged itself along the warship, ripping and tearing through the armour in destructive fashion. The port nacelle collided with the tail of the warship, exploding as it did so and sending Darmak into a tailspin.
Damaged, but not defeated. Darmak's ship managed to right itself, halting the spin, and came about to face the Enterprise once more. The rest of the Cardassian battle group did the same, reorienting itself to enact retribution for the suicide run.
The Enterprise, however, was now on a runaway course. The impact did little to slow the ship's speed, and the Cardassians were forced to give chase as the cruiser gave its last gasp of life, sending it and the crew hurtling past Bajor.
The maneuvering thrusters weren't much, but they managed to turn its headlong run into a wide, sloppy turn, just enough to invert the ship's momentum and have it face the Cardassians again. Venting warp plasma with massive, fatal, structural damage to the entire ship, the Enterprise was essentially dead in space. The explosion of the nacelle had sent a supercharged electromagnetic pulse throughout the ship, killing off every system big and small, overloading circuits and computers as it spread. Fires raged across the ship, entire sections were simply gone from the saucer section, and crew members had been flung to and fro in the chaos.
On the bridge, the scene was even worse than before.
Without emergency crash webbing to hold them down, everyone had crashed into various parts of the bridge. James Kirk's head had been slammed into the console, and a wound from his brow to his hairline bled profusely. His wrist felt broken, and internal injuries were a question of how many. Spock was a crumpled mess in a pile of debris. Sulu's crash webbing had kept him contained to his chair, but the jerking and pushing of the impact had knocked the wind out of him, and he was barely hanging onto consciousness. Uhura groaned in a corner, having been tossed into the turbolift doors so hard she had actually managed to dent them on impact.
Completely helpless now, the Enterprise sat dead in open space. Bajor was in the middle distance, close enough to see continents and clouds. It gave a strange sense of company to those still conscious- that they would not die too far from home.
Only James Kirk, battered and bloodied, could comprehend what was happening and do anything about it.
The EMP, caused by the nacelle's destruction, had knocked out the ship's power, but the defiant little thing was already beginning to come back to life. It was faltering, failing, but stuttering back to existence anyways.
"Warning," The feminine voice of the computer spoke on the overhead, "Warp core breach imminent. Containment systems have failed. Backup containment systems have failed. Emergency systems have failed. Warp core breach imminent."
On screen, the Cardassian warships were closing in. A wedge-shaped formation of bronze-armoured death coming for him now, inescapable and insurmountable. But they hadn't killed him yet and, if at first you don't succeed…
Kirk, through one eye, the other obscured by blood from the wound, tried to activate the warp engines. Never mind the fact that power failures throughout the ship would never allow the command to be completed. Without both Bussard collectors, it would be an impossible task even with full power. James Kirk, however, never really learned the meaning of impossible, or no-win, scenarios.
By luck, part of the command made it through. Garbled and fragmented, the computer in engineering did its best to make sense of the corrupted code. In doing so, it unleashed a miracle unlike the galaxy would ever see.
The unique blend of particles, chemicals, radiation, and other elements suddenly activated something that should not have happened for another hundred years.
With a flash of light, arms spiraling blue into the cosmos, a wormhole opened behind the Enterprise. Not just any wormhole- but the galaxy's first, and only, stable wormhole. Spinning hypnotically, plumes of twirling light exploded from the interior of the wormhole, as if inviting those outside to come in.
Although neither Kirk nor the Enterprise could see it, the Cardassian battle group did see it. Immediately coming to a full stop, their sensors tried desperately to figure out what they were seeing.
It's the exact kind of fateful miracle needed, because in the next moment a dozen different Federation cruisers began warping into the system. From Andorian battlecruisers to Starfleet ships of the line, it's an imposing force called together for emergency action. And, most importantly, it has the Cardassian battlegroup flanked and off-guard. The ensuing firefight sends most of Gul Darmak's armada into retreat, but it matters little to the crew of the Enterprise.
The brief reprieve of rescue gives no solace, but mourning instead. Now that the moment has passed, and the truth given time to set in, they mourn not just for their friend, but for their brother, and they know a piece of their found family has died- one irreplaceable as he was memorable.
The shadow of war is nothing to the shadow of anguish onboard the Enterprise, and its crew may never recover.