Some of you might have already read this story. I've added a bit more to it and cleaned up grammatical and other small errors. This story is important in that it provides crucial background for the next new Sutherland story, "Cold Comfort" which is just about ready to be posted. This short story is also a favorite of mine in that here you will see Liz the strategist, tactician, and warrior.
ABSENT FRIENDS
USS Sutherland: Stardate 56982.2
Watching silently as the last, but one, of her senior officers filed out of the banquet room, the very youthful—thanks to a strange incident that took place three years ago involving time travel, the Bajoran Prophets and their orbs, other universes and dimensions, and an ancient family curse—Captain Elizabeth Shelby, looking alluring in a pastel green formal evening gown, turned to her executive officer, Commander Sam Lavelle, also looking dashing in his formal dress uniform.
“Well, Sammy…” she remarked in a pensive, reflective tone, her familiar form of address indicating to her first officer that this was to be a private and personal discussion, “…another year…another remembrance dinner…”
“Yeah, but this one’s special, Betts.” The dark-haired Lavelle noted as he filled both of their champagne flutes with the genuine Cristal champagne that Liz had brought out for the occasion. “This is the last one we’re going to have on the old girl.”
“I know.” Liz sighed mournfully, “When she goes into the yards in a few weeks, we move over to the Horizon.”
“I guess a Sovvy’s a move up—isn’t it?” Sam asked, half jesting. “Too bad they won’t let us rename her like they let Sintina rename her ship the Indy.”
“It’d be nice…” Liz remarked, “But, since they’re only refitting and not decommissioning the Sutherland…”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” The roguishly handsome Canadian agreed as he sipped the bubbly wine, and then quipped in a teasing voice, “That’s what you get for keeping your ship in one piece instead of trashing it like Kirk, Picard, Sisko, and Aurelia did theirs…”
Chuckling, Liz riposted, “Better not let Sintina hear you mention her and Picard in the same sentence. I think she’s still pissed off at him over that command codes incident a few years ago. Still…” she reminisced as, standing up, she patted the table, “…we made some memories here…both good and bad.”
“That we did.” Lavelle agreed in a somber voice, “I only wish…”
“I know…” Liz replied, nodding her head, “Caernarvon IV still hurts…even after all these years.”
**********************************************************************
USS Sutherland: Stardate 50982.2
Her lips a thin straight line, Captain Shelby listened intently, along with the rest of her bridge crew, to the words being spoken by the stone-faced visage of Admiral William Ross on her main viewscreen.
“Captain Shelby…Liz…I don’t have to tell you that things have been going poorly for us the past few weeks—you’ve seen enough of it yourself.
“Aye, Sir.” Liz reluctantly agreed, tacitly acknowledging that even the morale on her ship had dropped significantly as a result of the continual retreats in the face of the Dominion-Cardassian onslaught. “So…when are we going to strike back?”
“Not yet, I’m afraid.” Admiral Ross answered back in a grave voice, “That’s where you come in.”
Leaning forward in her seat, Shelby impatiently, yet politely, prompted, “Go on, Sir. You’ve got my attention.”
“I thought I would.” Ross briefly chuckled, “The Cardassians and Jem’Hadar are threatening to overrun one of our outpost colonies—Caernarvon IV. If they succeed in overrunning that outpost before we firm up our defense lines…” shaking his head, the admiral noted morosely, “…well…let’s just say that we might as well go on ahead and unconditionally surrender right now.”
“It’s that strategically important?” Shelby inquired her adrenaline beginning to pump.
“Yes, it is.” Admiral Ross definitively replied. “Added to that, there are civilians on that planet. If at all possible, we need to evacuate as many of them as possible before the Cardassians and Jem’Hadar get their hands on them.”
“So…” Liz conjectured, “I assume that the Sutherland will be part of the fleet tasked to hold on to the system?”
“Not exactly.” Ross answered back, shaking his head. “You’ll be in command of an ad hoc task force consisting of yourself, the Renown, the Bozeman, the Scamp, and the Belize.”
“Sir?” An incredulous Liz questioned, “You’re sending me in command of a task force consisting of an Excelsior, two outdated border cutters, and one armed transport. If the Cardassians and Jem’Hadar send any sort of significant force…”
“I know, Liz.” The admiral nodded his head, “But we don’t have a choice. What we have left are either already tasked to other operations, are in repairs, or are otherwise unavailable. I’m giving you the best I can give you at this time, Captain. You have to hold Caernarvon IV until you are either relieved or instructed to withdraw. Regardless of the cost.” Fixing Shelby in his gaze, Ross asked in an emphatic tone, “Do you understand, Captain?”
“Aye, Sir.” Liz replied in a soft voice, realizing that her, her ship and those other ships under her command had probably been all given death sentences, “I understand. Don’t worry, Sir. We’ll get the job done.”
***********************************************************************
As the four ship captains and their first officers and tactical chiefs took their seats around the conference table, Captain Shelby and Commander Hobson, accompanied by Manuele Atoa, the Sutherland’s tactical chief and his assistant, Lieutenant Nyota Dryer, entered, the two security officers each bearing a stack of padds in their hands. After distributing the padds to each of the officers present, Manuele and Nyota took their seats as Hobson and Shelby made their way to the head of the table.
“Gentlemen…” Liz began, addressing the gathered beings seated before her, “We’ll reach Caernarvon IV within twenty-four hours and I wanted to go over our plans one last time. If any of you have any ideas or alternatives—now’s the time to put them out.”
“I think we’ve pretty much hashed out all the possible…and impossible…options, Captain Shelby…” Captain Morgan Bateson of the Bozeman declared with his trademark avuncular grin, “But it probably wouldn’t hurt for us to review the plan once again. Just to be sure we’re all on the same page.”
“That would be prudent.” Captain T’Mas of the Renown concurred, her Vulcan features betraying not a whit of emotion.
“All right.” Shelby responded, “The way I see it, we’re going to have to fight this as a series of delaying actions, taking advantage of the unique terrain within the system to try to channel the enemy advance while we attempt to take them out in detail. There’s no way we can hold on to everything…” she asserted, "So we’re going to have to prioritize as situations develop. However, as you can see on your padds, I have designed a few gadget plays that will hopefully at least temporarily confuse the opposition.”
As he read the information on his padd, a sly grin appeared on Captain Rodenko’s face. “While I like the idea of hiding photon and quantum torpedoes along with Mk 23’s within the planet’s ring system and using them as mobile mines, you are aware, of course, that the Mk. 23’s will probably have no effect on the Dominion and Cardassian warships—they’re too heavily shielded.”
“I’m aware.” Liz nodded her head, “What I’m hoping the Mk. 23’s will do is take out or at least temporarily incapacitate their smaller assault transports and shuttles and possibly any other small scout craft. Which will allow you and Captain Bateson to carry out parts two and three of the plan.”
“The one thing I don’t like about this, Captain Shelby…” Morgan interrupted, “Is the fact that if this goes off the way you’re planning, you’re putting yourself and the Renown through a meatgrinder. You’re setting yourselves up as the anvil here…”
“I know.” Liz sighed, “But we don’t really have a choice. Because we’re the largest ships, we’re the natural targets. But…” she said, smiling a sad smile, “…the good news is that if all goes well, while they’re tying themselves up with us, you’ll have a much freer hand to do what you have to do to hold on to the planet.” Turning her attention towards Lieutenant Dryer, the blonde captain asked in a grave voice, “You understand what you have to do, Nyota?”
“Yes, Sir.” The ebony skinned security officer promptly replied, “Our people, along with security teams from the other ships, are to cover the civilians’ withdrawal and hold on as long as possible.” Pausing for a moment as the full implications of her statement sunk in, Lieutenant Dryer added in a confident tone, “Don’t worry, Sir. We won’t let you down.”
“I know.” Liz responded in an equally confident voice before once again addressing the assembled officers, “Well…if there are no further questions, I’ll let you get back to your ships now.” Pausing for a moment as the officers stood up, Liz turned to the time displaced captain seated on her left, “Morgan…if you could stay for a moment? Chris, Manuele, Nyota…I’ll see you later.”
“Sure, Liz.” Bateson immediately replied, resuming his seat as the others, taking the hint, silently filed out. Waiting until the last of the group had departed, Morgan turned to his old friend, “What is it, Liz?”
“I have a feeling this is going to be a rough one, Morgan…” Shelby began haltingly only to be stopped by the older man’s gentle voice.
“I know what you’re about to say, Liz and don’t.” He gently admonished, “You can’t blame yourself for anything that might happen or not happen tomorrow. You’ve got a good plan and good people to carry it out with. You can’t worry yourself about that now. Just do the best you can, we’ll do the best we can, and if all goes well, we’ll give the Cardies and the Jemmies a day to remember.”
“Thanks, Morgan.” Liz beamed as, standing up, she wrapped her arms around the older man’s shoulders, hugging him close. “You’re a good friend.” A sad smile crossing her lips, the petite captain advised, “You might want to see Denise before you beam back to your ship. I’m sure she’d like to see you.”
“Yeah…” Bateson replied, his lips also turning up into a sad grin as he stood up, “I think that would be a good idea.” Giving the younger woman a chaste kiss on her cheek, he smiled once again, “I’ll see you later, Liz.”
Watching as the time displaced starship captain left the room; Shelby sat down in her chair. Picking up her padd, the newly appointed task force commander once again analyzed her battle plan, trying for the last time to tease out any possible weaknesses or holes that she didn’t account for earlier. After what seemed like hours, Shelby heard the door slide open, looking up, she saw her first officer at the threshold bearing two cups of coffee. “I thought you could use this.” Commander Hobson said as he offered one of the cups to his commanding officer.
“Thanks, Chris.” Liz replied gratefully as she sipped the warm brew. “You’re right, I did need this. So…what are you doing here?”
“I just wanted to report that everything is in readiness for tomorrow.” Hobson replied in his normal patrician voice. “Systems are at optimal and the crew is ready—and resting.” Pausing for a moment, the first officer added in an admonishing tone, “As should the captain be.”
“Reprimand duly noted.” Liz chuckled as she stood up. “I’m going to take a bath and turn in for a few hours.” Her smile vanishing, she added ominously, “Tomorrow is going to be a big day.”
************************************************************************
“All right everyone…” Liz announced, speaking from the center chair of her starship, “Sound out…”
Speaking from his concealed position in the outer asteroid belt along with the runabouts Loire and Rhone, Captain Rodenko declared in a deeply Russian accented voice, “Chase One in position.”
From a point near the north magnetic pole of Caernarvon IV, Captain Bateson called out, “Bozeman ready.”
“Renown is in position.” T’Mas’s emotionless voice declared from the speaker.
“Belize is beginning transport of evacuees.” Captain Leland Richards announced.
“Good.” Liz responded, “Remember, Captain. Once the Dominion attack transports draw within transporter range, we’re going to have to activate the transporter buffers on the surface. You’ll have to conduct the evacuation from then on by shuttlecraft.”
“Aye, Captain.” The white bearded former merchant captain replied, “I understand. We’ll get as many off as we can.”
Nodding her head at Richards’ response, Liz once again activated her comm, “You ready, Nyota?”
“Aye, Sir.” The lovely security chief responded, “We’re in position. Don’t worry, Sir…we’ll give ‘em hell when they come.”
Before Liz could respond, Ensign Django called out in a voice that barely concealed her excitement, “They’re here. At least four Galors…several frigates…assault transports…and some Bugs.
“All right, everyone.” Liz announced, “It’s showtime!”
“You heard the lady!” Boris Rodenko declared to his crew from the center seat of the Scamp. “Now, let’s show these Regular Fleeters that we Border Dogs can rumble with the best of them!”
A somber Morgan Bateson let out a deep breath as he turned to his executive officer, speaking in a quiet voice, he simply requested, “Take us to Red Alert, Gabe. Looks like we’ve got some shooting to do.”
“Here they come!” Maria cried out as the first elements of the Dominion assault force pierced the Oort Cloud.
“Wait for it…” Shelby uttered in a flat, low voice as the enemy armada drew nearer, “Wait until the transports get in.” Seeing that the main enemy fleet had passed, leaving the more vulnerable transports alone in the cloud, Liz dropped her right arm in a slashing motion, “Now!”
The Mk. 23’s set out in the Oort Cloud, activated by the subspace signal sent to them by the Sutherland, homing in on the assault transports and shuttlecraft of the Cardassian fleet, exploded in unison, their proximity fuses triggered by the nearness of the intruding vessels. Smiling in satisfaction as several of the enemy transports and shuttles drifted powerless in the cloud, Shelby activated her comm, “Now, Boris…eat ‘em up.”
“Da.” The Scamp’s skipper acknowledged as he signaled his squadron, “Chase One...attack!” Springing out of the concealment of the far asteroid belt, the antique Albacore-class border cutter, flanked by the runabouts Loire and Rhone, slashed through the disabled transports. “Fire all weapons!” Rodenko bellowed, the adrenaline flowing through his body as red beams lanced from her weapons turrets and photon torpedoes crashed into the still forms of the enemy assault ships.
His ship shuddering under the impact of weapons fire, the Russian captain heard his tactical officer report, “A squadron of frigates is closing on our position.”
The border cutter shuddering once again as lights flickered, Rodenko ordered, “Time for phase two—hard evasive—NOW!” Watching somberly as the Rhone exploded, Boris rushed to the helm as the console lit up in a shower of sparks, causing both officers manning the station to fall screaming to the deck. Sparing just a moment to look on sadly at their mangled corpses, the Russian border skipper took the pilot’s position at the helm. “Divert power to impulse engines and shields! I’ll shake this pack of sobla-ebla! Now move!”
***********************************************************************
ABSENT FRIENDS
USS Sutherland: Stardate 56982.2
Watching silently as the last, but one, of her senior officers filed out of the banquet room, the very youthful—thanks to a strange incident that took place three years ago involving time travel, the Bajoran Prophets and their orbs, other universes and dimensions, and an ancient family curse—Captain Elizabeth Shelby, looking alluring in a pastel green formal evening gown, turned to her executive officer, Commander Sam Lavelle, also looking dashing in his formal dress uniform.
“Well, Sammy…” she remarked in a pensive, reflective tone, her familiar form of address indicating to her first officer that this was to be a private and personal discussion, “…another year…another remembrance dinner…”
“Yeah, but this one’s special, Betts.” The dark-haired Lavelle noted as he filled both of their champagne flutes with the genuine Cristal champagne that Liz had brought out for the occasion. “This is the last one we’re going to have on the old girl.”
“I know.” Liz sighed mournfully, “When she goes into the yards in a few weeks, we move over to the Horizon.”
“I guess a Sovvy’s a move up—isn’t it?” Sam asked, half jesting. “Too bad they won’t let us rename her like they let Sintina rename her ship the Indy.”
“It’d be nice…” Liz remarked, “But, since they’re only refitting and not decommissioning the Sutherland…”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” The roguishly handsome Canadian agreed as he sipped the bubbly wine, and then quipped in a teasing voice, “That’s what you get for keeping your ship in one piece instead of trashing it like Kirk, Picard, Sisko, and Aurelia did theirs…”
Chuckling, Liz riposted, “Better not let Sintina hear you mention her and Picard in the same sentence. I think she’s still pissed off at him over that command codes incident a few years ago. Still…” she reminisced as, standing up, she patted the table, “…we made some memories here…both good and bad.”
“That we did.” Lavelle agreed in a somber voice, “I only wish…”
“I know…” Liz replied, nodding her head, “Caernarvon IV still hurts…even after all these years.”
**********************************************************************
USS Sutherland: Stardate 50982.2
Her lips a thin straight line, Captain Shelby listened intently, along with the rest of her bridge crew, to the words being spoken by the stone-faced visage of Admiral William Ross on her main viewscreen.
“Captain Shelby…Liz…I don’t have to tell you that things have been going poorly for us the past few weeks—you’ve seen enough of it yourself.
“Aye, Sir.” Liz reluctantly agreed, tacitly acknowledging that even the morale on her ship had dropped significantly as a result of the continual retreats in the face of the Dominion-Cardassian onslaught. “So…when are we going to strike back?”
“Not yet, I’m afraid.” Admiral Ross answered back in a grave voice, “That’s where you come in.”
Leaning forward in her seat, Shelby impatiently, yet politely, prompted, “Go on, Sir. You’ve got my attention.”
“I thought I would.” Ross briefly chuckled, “The Cardassians and Jem’Hadar are threatening to overrun one of our outpost colonies—Caernarvon IV. If they succeed in overrunning that outpost before we firm up our defense lines…” shaking his head, the admiral noted morosely, “…well…let’s just say that we might as well go on ahead and unconditionally surrender right now.”
“It’s that strategically important?” Shelby inquired her adrenaline beginning to pump.
“Yes, it is.” Admiral Ross definitively replied. “Added to that, there are civilians on that planet. If at all possible, we need to evacuate as many of them as possible before the Cardassians and Jem’Hadar get their hands on them.”
“So…” Liz conjectured, “I assume that the Sutherland will be part of the fleet tasked to hold on to the system?”
“Not exactly.” Ross answered back, shaking his head. “You’ll be in command of an ad hoc task force consisting of yourself, the Renown, the Bozeman, the Scamp, and the Belize.”
“Sir?” An incredulous Liz questioned, “You’re sending me in command of a task force consisting of an Excelsior, two outdated border cutters, and one armed transport. If the Cardassians and Jem’Hadar send any sort of significant force…”
“I know, Liz.” The admiral nodded his head, “But we don’t have a choice. What we have left are either already tasked to other operations, are in repairs, or are otherwise unavailable. I’m giving you the best I can give you at this time, Captain. You have to hold Caernarvon IV until you are either relieved or instructed to withdraw. Regardless of the cost.” Fixing Shelby in his gaze, Ross asked in an emphatic tone, “Do you understand, Captain?”
“Aye, Sir.” Liz replied in a soft voice, realizing that her, her ship and those other ships under her command had probably been all given death sentences, “I understand. Don’t worry, Sir. We’ll get the job done.”
***********************************************************************
As the four ship captains and their first officers and tactical chiefs took their seats around the conference table, Captain Shelby and Commander Hobson, accompanied by Manuele Atoa, the Sutherland’s tactical chief and his assistant, Lieutenant Nyota Dryer, entered, the two security officers each bearing a stack of padds in their hands. After distributing the padds to each of the officers present, Manuele and Nyota took their seats as Hobson and Shelby made their way to the head of the table.
“Gentlemen…” Liz began, addressing the gathered beings seated before her, “We’ll reach Caernarvon IV within twenty-four hours and I wanted to go over our plans one last time. If any of you have any ideas or alternatives—now’s the time to put them out.”
“I think we’ve pretty much hashed out all the possible…and impossible…options, Captain Shelby…” Captain Morgan Bateson of the Bozeman declared with his trademark avuncular grin, “But it probably wouldn’t hurt for us to review the plan once again. Just to be sure we’re all on the same page.”
“That would be prudent.” Captain T’Mas of the Renown concurred, her Vulcan features betraying not a whit of emotion.
“All right.” Shelby responded, “The way I see it, we’re going to have to fight this as a series of delaying actions, taking advantage of the unique terrain within the system to try to channel the enemy advance while we attempt to take them out in detail. There’s no way we can hold on to everything…” she asserted, "So we’re going to have to prioritize as situations develop. However, as you can see on your padds, I have designed a few gadget plays that will hopefully at least temporarily confuse the opposition.”
As he read the information on his padd, a sly grin appeared on Captain Rodenko’s face. “While I like the idea of hiding photon and quantum torpedoes along with Mk 23’s within the planet’s ring system and using them as mobile mines, you are aware, of course, that the Mk. 23’s will probably have no effect on the Dominion and Cardassian warships—they’re too heavily shielded.”
“I’m aware.” Liz nodded her head, “What I’m hoping the Mk. 23’s will do is take out or at least temporarily incapacitate their smaller assault transports and shuttles and possibly any other small scout craft. Which will allow you and Captain Bateson to carry out parts two and three of the plan.”
“The one thing I don’t like about this, Captain Shelby…” Morgan interrupted, “Is the fact that if this goes off the way you’re planning, you’re putting yourself and the Renown through a meatgrinder. You’re setting yourselves up as the anvil here…”
“I know.” Liz sighed, “But we don’t really have a choice. Because we’re the largest ships, we’re the natural targets. But…” she said, smiling a sad smile, “…the good news is that if all goes well, while they’re tying themselves up with us, you’ll have a much freer hand to do what you have to do to hold on to the planet.” Turning her attention towards Lieutenant Dryer, the blonde captain asked in a grave voice, “You understand what you have to do, Nyota?”
“Yes, Sir.” The ebony skinned security officer promptly replied, “Our people, along with security teams from the other ships, are to cover the civilians’ withdrawal and hold on as long as possible.” Pausing for a moment as the full implications of her statement sunk in, Lieutenant Dryer added in a confident tone, “Don’t worry, Sir. We won’t let you down.”
“I know.” Liz responded in an equally confident voice before once again addressing the assembled officers, “Well…if there are no further questions, I’ll let you get back to your ships now.” Pausing for a moment as the officers stood up, Liz turned to the time displaced captain seated on her left, “Morgan…if you could stay for a moment? Chris, Manuele, Nyota…I’ll see you later.”
“Sure, Liz.” Bateson immediately replied, resuming his seat as the others, taking the hint, silently filed out. Waiting until the last of the group had departed, Morgan turned to his old friend, “What is it, Liz?”
“I have a feeling this is going to be a rough one, Morgan…” Shelby began haltingly only to be stopped by the older man’s gentle voice.
“I know what you’re about to say, Liz and don’t.” He gently admonished, “You can’t blame yourself for anything that might happen or not happen tomorrow. You’ve got a good plan and good people to carry it out with. You can’t worry yourself about that now. Just do the best you can, we’ll do the best we can, and if all goes well, we’ll give the Cardies and the Jemmies a day to remember.”
“Thanks, Morgan.” Liz beamed as, standing up, she wrapped her arms around the older man’s shoulders, hugging him close. “You’re a good friend.” A sad smile crossing her lips, the petite captain advised, “You might want to see Denise before you beam back to your ship. I’m sure she’d like to see you.”
“Yeah…” Bateson replied, his lips also turning up into a sad grin as he stood up, “I think that would be a good idea.” Giving the younger woman a chaste kiss on her cheek, he smiled once again, “I’ll see you later, Liz.”
Watching as the time displaced starship captain left the room; Shelby sat down in her chair. Picking up her padd, the newly appointed task force commander once again analyzed her battle plan, trying for the last time to tease out any possible weaknesses or holes that she didn’t account for earlier. After what seemed like hours, Shelby heard the door slide open, looking up, she saw her first officer at the threshold bearing two cups of coffee. “I thought you could use this.” Commander Hobson said as he offered one of the cups to his commanding officer.
“Thanks, Chris.” Liz replied gratefully as she sipped the warm brew. “You’re right, I did need this. So…what are you doing here?”
“I just wanted to report that everything is in readiness for tomorrow.” Hobson replied in his normal patrician voice. “Systems are at optimal and the crew is ready—and resting.” Pausing for a moment, the first officer added in an admonishing tone, “As should the captain be.”
“Reprimand duly noted.” Liz chuckled as she stood up. “I’m going to take a bath and turn in for a few hours.” Her smile vanishing, she added ominously, “Tomorrow is going to be a big day.”
************************************************************************
“All right everyone…” Liz announced, speaking from the center chair of her starship, “Sound out…”
Speaking from his concealed position in the outer asteroid belt along with the runabouts Loire and Rhone, Captain Rodenko declared in a deeply Russian accented voice, “Chase One in position.”
From a point near the north magnetic pole of Caernarvon IV, Captain Bateson called out, “Bozeman ready.”
“Renown is in position.” T’Mas’s emotionless voice declared from the speaker.
“Belize is beginning transport of evacuees.” Captain Leland Richards announced.
“Good.” Liz responded, “Remember, Captain. Once the Dominion attack transports draw within transporter range, we’re going to have to activate the transporter buffers on the surface. You’ll have to conduct the evacuation from then on by shuttlecraft.”
“Aye, Captain.” The white bearded former merchant captain replied, “I understand. We’ll get as many off as we can.”
Nodding her head at Richards’ response, Liz once again activated her comm, “You ready, Nyota?”
“Aye, Sir.” The lovely security chief responded, “We’re in position. Don’t worry, Sir…we’ll give ‘em hell when they come.”
Before Liz could respond, Ensign Django called out in a voice that barely concealed her excitement, “They’re here. At least four Galors…several frigates…assault transports…and some Bugs.
“All right, everyone.” Liz announced, “It’s showtime!”
“You heard the lady!” Boris Rodenko declared to his crew from the center seat of the Scamp. “Now, let’s show these Regular Fleeters that we Border Dogs can rumble with the best of them!”
A somber Morgan Bateson let out a deep breath as he turned to his executive officer, speaking in a quiet voice, he simply requested, “Take us to Red Alert, Gabe. Looks like we’ve got some shooting to do.”
“Here they come!” Maria cried out as the first elements of the Dominion assault force pierced the Oort Cloud.
“Wait for it…” Shelby uttered in a flat, low voice as the enemy armada drew nearer, “Wait until the transports get in.” Seeing that the main enemy fleet had passed, leaving the more vulnerable transports alone in the cloud, Liz dropped her right arm in a slashing motion, “Now!”
The Mk. 23’s set out in the Oort Cloud, activated by the subspace signal sent to them by the Sutherland, homing in on the assault transports and shuttlecraft of the Cardassian fleet, exploded in unison, their proximity fuses triggered by the nearness of the intruding vessels. Smiling in satisfaction as several of the enemy transports and shuttles drifted powerless in the cloud, Shelby activated her comm, “Now, Boris…eat ‘em up.”
“Da.” The Scamp’s skipper acknowledged as he signaled his squadron, “Chase One...attack!” Springing out of the concealment of the far asteroid belt, the antique Albacore-class border cutter, flanked by the runabouts Loire and Rhone, slashed through the disabled transports. “Fire all weapons!” Rodenko bellowed, the adrenaline flowing through his body as red beams lanced from her weapons turrets and photon torpedoes crashed into the still forms of the enemy assault ships.
His ship shuddering under the impact of weapons fire, the Russian captain heard his tactical officer report, “A squadron of frigates is closing on our position.”
The border cutter shuddering once again as lights flickered, Rodenko ordered, “Time for phase two—hard evasive—NOW!” Watching somberly as the Rhone exploded, Boris rushed to the helm as the console lit up in a shower of sparks, causing both officers manning the station to fall screaming to the deck. Sparing just a moment to look on sadly at their mangled corpses, the Russian border skipper took the pilot’s position at the helm. “Divert power to impulse engines and shields! I’ll shake this pack of sobla-ebla! Now move!”
***********************************************************************
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