USS Lincoln

[admiralelm11]

I started writing this while I was at the library yesterday and I forgot to post it. Anyways, it’s a work in progress. Please enjoy.


Star Trek: USS Lincoln

‘The Nuwara Gambit’

By Jack D. Elmlinger


Chapter One

Commander Arthur MacEwan, First Officer of the USS Lincoln, found himself flat on his back with stars exploding in front of his eyes while there was a loud ringing in his ears. His opponent stood over him, unmoving but with an ambo-jitsu stick at the ready. He couldn’t remember ever being struck this hard before. Not even during matches with Commander Will Riker when he served aboard the USS Enterprise, NCC-1701-D. Shaking his head, he tried to unscramble his brain while trying to remember how he had gotten into it in the first place.

The Log Cabin had been a lively place, earlier in the evening. The Lincoln had finished updating the survey of a star system that hadn’t been visited by Starfleet since its discovery over a century before. The task had been tedious and the crew needed to release some of its pent-up energy. He had been sitting at a table with Lieutenant Commander Jillian Velazquez, Lieutenant Kyle Peterson, and Doctor Nandor.

A group of newcomers entered the lounge and one of them in particular caught the First Officer’s attention. She appeared to be humanoid with pitch-black hair that was cut short. Her features were fine and her skin had the dusky pigmentation of a species that lived in an arid environment. It was a startling contrast to her hazel eyes.

She was taller than her companions. In fact, she was nearly as tall as Arthur himself. Her physique was well-defined and his expert eye estimated that there was probably not an ounce of excess fat on her body. She almost reminded him of Subcommander Shiynah, a Romulan woman that he had a relationship with on a previous mission.

“Now that’s someone that I’d like to get to know.”

Velazquez glanced at the group. “Which one?,” asked the Chief Engineer.

“The tall one,” he answered her.

“Ensign Julia Agrippa.” Peterson didn’t even look.

“You know her, Kyle?” MacEwan leaned over the table, interested.

“Yes, sir,” the Security Chief said. “She’s been assigned to Security.”

“Then you must know something about her.” He let that question hang in the air.

“Yes, sir.” Peterson sipped on his drink and said nothing more.

Velazquez and Nandor traded sidelong looks at each other. They sipped their drinks and tried not to grin.

“Yes?,” asked MacEwan. “That’s all.”

Peterson put his drink down and met the Commander’s intense gaze. “She’s not your typical woman. She’s a warrior.” He paused and stared wistfully in her direction. “If only she was my type.”

Velazquez was curious. “Where’s she from, Kyle?”

“Magna Roma.” Peterson sat back in his seat.

Velazquez whistled in response and Nandor was the first to comment. “That would explain a lot,” said the Deltan.

MacEwan’s gaze sought out Ensign Agrippa who was now seated at the bar. Next to her was an empty stool. “What did you say her name is?”

“Ensign Julia Agrippa,” Peterson repeated.

“Lia, for short?”

“No,” the Security Chief said, shaking her head. “Leo.”

“Leo?,” Nandor exclaimed. “Now, that’s unusual.”

“Not once you’ve talked to her,” Kyle said, smiling slightly. “I believe that Leo is Latin for lion.”

“Well then,” MacEwan said, standing up and leaving his drink behind,” I know exactly how to break the ice.”

Peterson chuckled. Across from him, Velazquez and Nandor traded surprised looks.

MacEwan walked over and sat down next to Agrippa. “Ensign Julia Agrippa?”

She answered him without looking. “Yes,” she said and then added,” sir” when she saw who it was. She jumped up to her feet, standing at attention. She almost towered over him.

“Be at ease here, ah,” he said, pausing on purpose,” Leo, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.” She relaxed a bit.

MacEwan fidgeted slightly. “Sit down. I’m only here to talk.”

She returned to her barstool but she didn’t relax.

“Lieutenant Peterson tells me that you’re Magna Roman.”

“Yes, sir.” She stared straight ahead.

“I’m heard that Magna Romans are good fighters. Is that true?”

“We like the challenge of a good fight, yes, sir.” Her gaze remained forward and stony.

“Have you ever heard of ambo-jitsu?” Whether or not she had, he was prepared to teach her.

Her answer held no emotion. “It’s a discipline that combines all of Earth’s martial arts, using a weapon that resembles a quarterstaff while the fighters are essentially blindfolded.” Her eyes never strayed from looking straight ahead.

“That’s right,” MacEwan responded enthusiastically. “Are you an enthusiast?”

“No, sir,” she replied.

MacEwan was undeterred. “Would you like to learn?”

Suddenly, she was facing her with an intense expression. “Can you?”

He was taken back by her fervor. “I hold a Master’s rating. I was taught by Commander Riker of the – “

“Can we start now?,” she interrupted him. “I can meet you in the gymnasium in, say… an hour?”

“Ah, sure, why not?” He found himself wondering if he was up to this.

“Good.” She reached her hand out to shake his. “I’ll see you there.” She started to leave before she turned around. “Should I wear anything special?”

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Now that's a hell of a first date! Thanks!! rbs

 

[admiralelm11]

“Sweats,” was his answer. “I’ll fit the protective suit on you in the gym.”

“Okay,” she said and she was gone with the crowd parting before her.

MacEwan went back to the table with his fellow senior officers. “I have a date.”

Velazquez whistled softly. “That was fast.”

“Yup.”

Nandor was curious. “If I may, what is this date?”

“I’m going to instruct her in ambo-Jitsu,” Arthur said triumphantly.

Peterson chuckled and then he finished his drink.

“Why? She’s only a beginner.”

Peterson was serious. “Can I watch? I’m her superior officer, and this will give me a chance to evaluate her abilities.”

“Me too,” Velazquez and Nandor chimed in.

“Okay. Okay,” MacEwan conceded,” but don’t laugh when she falls. I would like it if she could continue in the discipline.” He finished his drink and left, saying something about getting ready.

Peterson waited until the First Officer left. “I don’t think it’ll be her that we’ll be laughing at.”

****


Agrippa was already in the gym when MacEwan arrived. He had his protective suit on and hers in his arms.

“Will all of that be necessary?,” she asked him.

“It’s all precautionary, especially with beginners. And it’s part of the form too,” he said before he started the fitting process. Lieutenant Peterson, Lieutenant Commander Velazquez and Doctor Nandor arrived shortly thereafter.

Once the suit was on, Agrippa went through some basic moves in a discipline that MacEwan didn’t recognize. “This suit inhibits my range of motion.”

MacEwan handed her a half-inch diameter stick with padding at both ends; a beginner’s ambo stick. In the advanced studies, one pad would be replaced with a sonar device. At that level, the combatant’s vision was blocked by an opaque visor and they had to use the sonar device to locate their opponent.

Agrippa took the stick, testing its weight and balance. Then, with a speed that challenged the eye to follow, she put herself through an exercise that Arthur didn’t recognize. She’s no beginner, he thought.

“I see that you have some experience with the ambo stick.”

“It isn’t all that different than the quarterstaff,” she responded,” but this suit does slow me down.”

MacEwan heard Kyle’s deep chuckle echo from across the gym. I hope I can keep up with her, he thought while he warmed up himself.

“Okay, Leo. Do you mind if I call you that?” He hoped that she would accede to his request.

“Sure, sir.”

“Okay, Leo. Let’s start out with the basics and work up from there,” MacEwan said.

“Yes, sir.”

“Defend. That means ready or on guard.” MacEwan started, demonstrating the defend position.

She learned ambo-jitsu’s beginning moves quickly and they moved on to the more advanced methods. Soon they were trading blows at lightning speeds. MacEwan was beginning to tire but she was still fresh as thought she was only doing a light workout.

“Want to quit for now?,” he asked her.

“Continue on,” she said. No hesitation and no sign of fatigue.

He showed her how to raise and lower the opaque visor. Then he introduced her to the advanced stick with its sonar device. She tested it.

“It will be hard to keep from using the sonar end,” she said.

“Are you ready?”

“Sure.” She dropped her visor.

He left his visor up so she could practice the moves that he had taught her, deftly countering her blows. In no time, she was moving with amazing fluidity, mixing the Magna Roman quarterstaff discipline with that of the ambo-jitsu stick.

“Commander MacEwan?” Peterson’s voice echoed across the gym.

Arthur called a halt. “Yes, Kyle?”

“We would like to have a talk with you,” said the Security Chief.

“Keep practicing that move, Leo,” he said before he walked over towards the small audience. “What is it?”

“Why don’t you two really fight?,” Kyle asked him, his voice a basso whisper. “We’re going to sleep over here.”

“She’s still a beginner,” MacEwan responded.

“I’ll place my wager on Leo,” Peterson huffed.

Velazquez grinned. “I’ll take a little bit of that action.”

“I don’t believe you two,” said MacEwan.

“Me either,” added Nandor.

“Besides, she’s a woman,” Arthur continued. “I wouldn’t want to hurt her.”

“Jillian,” the Deltan physician said,” I think I’d like to get in on this.”

“Sure, Doc.” The Chief Engineer grinned. “Go get her, sir.”

“I really can’t take advantage of her. A beginner against an advanced player?” MacEwan was stalling.

“You’re not scared of an Ensign, are you?,” Peterson growled.

“If she gets hurt, it’s on all of your heads,” he warned them.

“That’s okay,” Doctor Nandor responded, the lights of the gym reflecting lightly against his bald head. “I’ll fix her up but I think it’ll be you that I’ll be mending in a moment.”

MacEwan stalked back over to the waiting ensign. He explained to her what they were about to do, leaving out the fact that there was a wager involved.

“Lieutenant Peterson is rooting for me?,” she asked him with pride’s light showing in her eyes.

“He had complete confidence in you, as does Doctor Nandor. Do you want to do this?”

She flipped her visor down and switched on the sonar. “Defend, sir.”

“Okay.” MacEwan lowered his visor. “Begin.”

They circled. He heard her sonar searching and the swish of the stick when it passed by him. He countered her at shoulder-level, connecting. There was a grunt but when he had expected to hear her hit the mat, there was nothing. She was still on her feet.

The return from his sonar told him that she was right in front of him. He made a straight-on attack and he was blocked. Rolling, her stick missed him, passing only centimeters over his head. She began searching for him and found what she was looking for with her sonar. He double-dodged and she lost his signal.

He found her and struck.

Again, he felt his stick make contact but he failed to knock her down. Instead, he heard a string of curses in a language that he had never heard before. He heard her visor go up and he did the same. She was walking off of the mat, replacing the advanced stick for the beginner’s one.

MacEwan tried to instruct her. “That will put you at a big disadvantage.”

“Maybe,” she responded,” but I don’t like the sonar.” She flipped the visor down. “Defend.”

He looked at the time and saw that there were only two minutes left in the bet. He lowered his visor. “Begin.” He was sorry that Kyle and Nandor were going to lose.

He located her with his sonar. She was moving quickly to his left. He intercepted her and attempted to give her a short jab to the head. He heard a scuffle and his stick hit nothing. Off balance, he heard the swishing sound of her stick cutting through the air behind him. There was a heavy impact to the center of his back. He barely maintained his balance, narrowly deflecting a follow-up shot from the stick’s other end aimed at his head.

Damn, he thought, does she have her visor up? He couldn’t believe that she could move so quickly blindfolded. He searched for her again with the sonar. He blocked a short jab and countered with his jab hitting something hard.

She responded immediately to his jab, hitting him back with a short jab of her own. He tried to roll with it but he ran smack into a flying wall. The lights went out.


****


The smell of ammonia assailed his nose and he looked to the side, finding Nandor there. She pulled out a small medical scanner and held it over his head. Agrippa stood where she had been when he had first begun to wake up.

“You have a slight concussion, Arthur. Lay still for a moment.” He tapped his combadge. “Nandor to Sickbay.”

An orderly in Sickbay answered him. “Sickbay.”

“Get a stretcher to the gym.”

The stars had stopped exploding in front of him and MacEwan didn’t want to be carried out of the gym. “Belay that order. I can walk.” He took his helmet off and wobbled to his feet.

Agrippa had taken her helmet off and she was visibly shaken by the fact that she had injured the First Officer. Peterson slapped her hard on the back, roaring with approval. She remained unmoving with a small smile of victory curling her lips.

MacEwan hobbled over to her with his hand held out. She took it and they shook. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been decked out like that, Leo. I look forward to our next match.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He held his hand up to stop her from going any further. “No apologies are necessary, Leo. You’ll have to explain to me later how you did that.” As he left, he heard a yell that could have only been her victory chant. Peterson’s basso voice joined in.

Next time, Ensign, he thought ruefully.

 

[admiralelm11]

****


Stepping out of the sonic shower, Arthur stretched, trying to work out some of the stiffness that was beginning to plague his muscles. He had a headache as well. Something that Doctor Nandor had warned him about. He knew that this was only the beginning. He would be twice as sore in the morning.

He didn’t mind losing to Agrippa. It made him all the most expectant of their next meeting. The next time that they sparred, he would be more conservative. The amazing thing was how she had done it without the sonar device.

Damn, she’s good, he thought, a smile coming to his face. I’m going to like her. He took the painkiller that Nandor had given him for the headache and washed it down with some juice from the replicator.

Throwing his arms above his head and rocking his torso back and forth, he tried to stretch his tight muscles. He rotated his shoulders and placed his hand on his neck, trying to work out the stiffness.

He pulled on a robe and ran a hand through his hair. He threw himself on top of his bed and grabbed a PADD that had his copy of the Starfleet Academy Alumni News in its memory. He skimmed through most of it until he got through to the News of the Graduates. He read down the list until he got to his class.

Hailey Matheson has just been named Captain of the USS Merrimack. The Merrimack is scheduled for routine patrol duties on the Klingon border.

MacEwan grinned and silently saluted Hailey. “Good for you, Lee,” he said aloud. His grin broadened as he remembered her. He laced his fingers behind his head and stared at the ceiling but it was his memories of the time that he had spent with her during their years at the Academy that he really saw. Especially since she had been the first of only a few upperclassmen to outbluff him at fizzbin.

He chuckled. She had always had a sixth sense about finding out where the action was. Somehow it had failed her here as he recalled how boring border patrol on the old Klingon Neutral Zone could be. She had been a spitfire and he empathized with what she had to be going through right now.


****


“The Klingons have a weapons lock!,” Lieutenant Lucius Flavius Agrippa shouted and Captain Hailey Matheson had never seen the seven-foot tall Magna Roman so agitated before.

“Confirmed. Three K’Vort-class Birds of Prey in a standard attack formation.

That wasn’t her First Officer’s Hispanic accent. Then she remembered that she had sent him down to man the Auxiliary Control Center. One of his assistants was manning the Science station.

No matter, Matheson thought before she realized that there was something wrong. There had been four birds of prey. “Antrani! Where’s the fourth bird of prey?”

The Merrimack’s Tactical Officer, a quiet and unaffected Zakdorn woman, rated by her predecessor as a tactical genius, reported,” Sir, it’s attempting to flank us. I suggest that we come to a heading of four-four-zero-three, mark nine-two and lock all weapons upon it. My guess is that it’s their command ship.”

Matheson projected Antrani’s recommended course in her head and nodded. She’s good, all right. The new course would put them onto a heading that would allow them to concentrate all of the Merrimack’s firepower on the fourth ship. I hope we can cripple it quickly, she told herself while she watched Niala Antrani work. Our ship’s survival depends on it.

The Merrimack prepared itself for battle, moving onto her new heading. Matheson reviewed all of the events that had brought them into this predicament. She was sure that there would be a Board of Review by Starfleet and she wanted to be sure that there had been no alternatives.

The Klingon ships had appeared from nowhere and blocked off all of her attempts to peacefully bypass them. All subspace frequencies were being jammed and when three disruptor blasts had flown across the Merrimack’s bow, Matheson had discontinued trying to call for assistance.

Returned to the present, Matheson chided herself for worrying about it. Events were running out of control and fate would decide the victor. “Phasers! Torpedoes! Lock and fire!”


****


Captain Patrick Staams entered the Conference Lounge, gesturing for those standing to be seated. Taking his seat at the head of the table, he called the meeting to order.

“It’s been over a year since the end of the Klingon Civil War. Chancellor Gowron has successfully consolidated his position over the High Council, despite further attempts by the Duras Family to stop him.” Lieutenant Peterson’s scowl caused him to pause for a moment and to frown at the Security Chief. The Lincoln had been engaged in an exploration mission at the time and her crew hadn’t been able to participate in the Fleet blockage of the border between Klingon and Romulan space.

Staams cleared his throat and continued,” As much as I hope that it remains stable, this apparent peace still concerns me.”

“It wouldn’t be uncharacteristic of the Romulans to discontinue their attempts,” Lieutenant Rilla added.

“But who would be their commander?,” Peterson asked with an aggressive mood. “After all, Ambassador Spock discredited Sela on Romulus. Who would follow her now?”

Staams never lost his tight smile. “I agree. With the information gathered by the Enterprise crew, the possibility that Sela could be working on a new scheme could be quite slim. Yet, I know that something has to be wrong here. If it isn’t here, then who and how?” He nodded towards his Security Chief. “I think I’ll let Mister Peterson explain it. He’s made the Klingons and the Romulans his area of study.”

MacEwan had already passed on the Captain’s request for this report to Kyle and he had already skimmed through its contents. Still, he listened intently, insuring that he left out nothing.

Clearing his throat, Petersen stood and walked towards the large viewscreen on the wall. “Computer, show me Star Chart Epsilon-Three-Three-Seven-Point-Nine.”


****

 

[admiralelm11]

I'll try to get more added when I can. With Christmas coming, I'm taking a break from writing during this holiday season.

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Merry Christmas!! Really nice sparring description with the ambo-jitsu sequence.

The battle with the klingons seemed to come out of nowhere, but then, that's what cloaking devices are for...

Thanks!! rbs

 

[admiralelm11]

****


“Continue firing all phasers. Prepare another spread of torpedoes.” Matheson’s order was interrupted by a deafening explosion that came from everywhere at once. The deck below her feet lifted forward and the Bridge lights flickered. She was caught standing when the deck shifted and she was thrown forward, striking her head on the railing that surrounded the central command area. Stunned, she collapsed to the deck. Shaking her head and attempting to regain her feet, she felt like she was mired in molasses while the world around her moved in slow motion.

Exploring the hairline near her temple, she felt the stickiness of blood matting her hair. Wiping her hand on her uniform, she called out,” Damage report!”

“Direct hit to the aft shields. They’re at forty-four percent strength.”

That report had come from Agrippa at Weapons. A glance over at the Science Station showed her why. It was empty with a limp form on the deck nearby.

Agrippa continued,” The secondary hull has sustained minor structural damage. Reports from Engineering are still coming in.”

A series of smaller explosion accompanied the report, threatening to roll the Merrimack over onto her back.

“Rear shields are at five percent. Their failure is imminent.” It was Antrani. “Captain! There’s a cruiser…”

A blinding explosion from the rear of the Bridge brought all reports to a halt. Razor-sharp splinters sprayed everyone at once. Two engineering technicians were thrown through the air by the blast’s violence and deposited at Matheson’s feet. She stared momentarily into their lifeless eyes.

A Klingon cruiser floated past the main viewscreen and fired. There was a shuddering impact.

“Fire, Agrippa! Fire, damnit!”


****


“Thank you, Mister Peterson. That was very detailed,” Captain Staams said while Peterson resumed his seat. “I think that you can all see our situation here.” Heads nodded in agreement except for one. Rilla looked perplexed.

“Do you have a question, Miss Rilla?” Staams braced himself for a query that was likely to be very complex.

“Sensors have detected no activity within Romulan borders. Why do you think they’re going to attempt an action?” Her face was blank and open.

Velazquez answered the question. “It’s just a gut feeling, Rilla.”

Turning to face the blonde Hispanic Chief Engineer, she responded. “I see. But I don’t understand.” The Deltan woman’s face momentarily had a faraway look while she accessed the databank embedded in her cranial implant. “Ah, that means that the Captain has a feeling that something will happen without the benefits of evidence or fact to support it.” She turned back towards Staams. “I see, sir.”

“That’s right, Rilla. I have a feeling about this.” Staams paused while he tried to put it into words. “Everything is in place for them right now. Even more so than when they supported the Duras Family during the Civil War. The question is where?”

MacEwan said. “Okay. Supposing that the Romulans are trying to start something…” He paused to frame his thoughts. “Are we allowed to support the Klingons? And… with how much?”

Staams sighed heavily. “I’ve been in contact with Starfleet about this. They have contacted the Klingon Consulate and though we have permission to enter their territory, it’s limited to only these sectors here,” – he indicated the star map on the wall monitor --,” and only to the ships presently patrolling the border with us.”

MacEwan asked, despite already knowing the answer. “And those are?”

“The Lincoln and…” Staams’ eyebrows went up and his mouth turned as he answered,” … the Merrimack.”


****


Painfully, Captain Matheson lifted her head from the deck. She had been thrown to the deck again and a piece of the Bridge ceiling had fallen upon her. Struggling, she pushed it off but pain filled her chest with every breath while broken ribs scratched at her lungs. Klingon ships circled her mortally wounded ship and the Merrimack’s shields had failed completely.

Dragging herself across the floor, she heard someone yelling. The voice sounded far way and muffled. “Engineering, where are my shields?”

The answer took a long time in coming. “Gone. The core’s nearly gone. All power is being sent to Life-Support and the weapons.”

Matheson finally reached her chair and painfully pulled herself into it. “That didn’t sound like Commander Herrera,” she gasped.

A technician whose voice that she didn’t recognize, answered her. “Mister Herrera was killed when Auxiliary Control was hit after the aft starboard shields buckled.”

Antrani was still at her station at Tactical but her body was leaning in an odd angle and her head swung loosely with each change in the cant of the deck. She remembered her last conversation with her.

“Any ideas, Miss Antrani?”

She had thought for a moment. “They have the initiative, the firepower, and they can easily finish us off whenever they’re ready. Our best choice would be to withdraw but they would easily run us down.”

She had paused for a moment before continuing,” What we have here is a classic no-win scenario. A Kobayashi Maru, so to speak.”

“You’re right, Niala. Only this one’s for real.”

“Only too real, sir.” She returned her attention to evading the Klingon attack.

Matheson broke away from her reverie and looked around. The macabre scene that surrounded her now resembled the worst of the Kobayashi Maru test. The whine of phasers brought her back sharply to the present. Agrippa had somehow managed to get the exhausted phasers to lock onto the Klingons.

An incoming Klingon photon torpedo flew past the viewscreen which was followed by a tremendous explosion on the Bridge. When Matheson opened her eyes again, it was to see Agrippa’s body sprawled across the deck. The right side of his head, neck and shoulder was a mass of pulped flesh.

“We’ve got to get out of here!,” she shouted at the viewscreen.

The officer manning the helm console had remained silent. The young Ensign was suffering from shock and despite this, a moment later, he pressed the indicators on his display that were necessary to get the Merrimack moving and clawing its way out of the circling Klingons.

Surprised to see that someone was still manning the useless Science Station, the Captain attempted to shout out an order. “Get on the weapons console.” The pain in her chest was getting worse with each breath.

“Aye, sir.”

He tried to walk over to the Tactical Console but he tripped over a body. Picking himself up, he tried again but another impact knocked him to the deck. Covered with blood, he finally made it to the Tactical station and determined what was left of the Merrimack’s offensive capabilities.

“Sir, we have only one volley of torpedoes loaded and ready.”

The Bridge lights flickered and blinked off, replaced a moment later by the garish crimson emergency lights.

Looking at the main viewscreen, Captain Matheson found only empty space where the Klingons had been only moments before. How long have they been gone?,” she asked herself, realizing that the last series of explosions might actually have been secondary explosions set off by the fires raging inside her dying starship. The relative silence was oppressive, broken only by the pop and sizzle of shorting circuitry.

“Where did they go?”

The science technician ran a scan. “They’re gone, sir.” His voice held amazement.

“You’re sure?” Her ship was still alive. At least, for the moment. This was very… un-Klingon-like.

“No motion, no heat signatures, nothing.” He shook his head while he looked over his sensors. “They’re gone.”

Are they playing some sort of trick on my battered ship?, Matheson wondered. Turning her head, she flinched when the movement brought on yet another spasm of coughing that racked her entire body. She wiped the bloody phlegm from her mouth and gasped out her orders. “Keep those torpedoes ready, just in case.”

In pain and unable to turn her head to see if anyone was still manning the communications board, she ordered that a channel be opened, hoping that they weren’t still being jammed. “Send a Category One distress signal to any ship in the area.”


****


“The Merrimack,” Jillian Velazquez chuckled with derision. “She’s the oldest ship in the fleet. She’s scheduled to be decommissioned at her next change of command. How much help can she be?”

“I suppose it’s better than no help at all, Commander Velazquez,” Staams responded. “She does have weapons.” He saw a flicker of a smile on MacEwan’s face. “Do you know something about the Merrimack, Arthur?”

MacEwan fidgets slightly. “According to a Starfleet bulletin that I saw, a classmate of mine from the Academy is now her Commanding Officer.” He could still see the tall brunette who cared more for the fitness of her form than for the aesthetics. He had fallen for her then and still cared about her now. They had enjoyed each other’s intensity. He sighed, smiling slightly at the memory.”

Staams saw his crooked smile. “Would you care to elaborate?”

MacEwan was still savoring the memory when he answered. “Just a note in the latest Academy Alumni Bulletin.”

A derisive snort from Peterson told everyone what he thought. “Who would want to command that?”

MacEwan nodded. “Your assessment of the ship is absolutely correct, Mister Peterson, but if you knew Lee in the way that I know her,” – he let his gaze center on the Chief of Security, challenging him --,” you would know who.”

The group chuckled quietly, maintaining the formal atmosphere of the meeting but cast sidelong glances at the Captain who merely smiled painfully.

MacEwan continued,” Hailey Matheson. Excuse me, Captain Hailey Matheson.” He paused for a moment. “She always wanted to be first in everything, including a command. Now she’s landed on a heavy cruiser.”

Kyle was about to say something when he was interrupted by the beep of the intercom.

“Bridge to Captain Staams.”

Staams recognized Ensign Agrippa’s voice. “Go ahead, Ensign.”

“Sir, we’ve received a Class One distress signal.”

The atmosphere in the Conference Lounge was instantly charged. “Who is it from and where are they?” Staams stood up from his chair, prepared for quick action. MacEwan leaned ahead in his seat.

“It’s the USS Merrimack, sir. She’s near the meeting point between the Klingon and Romulan Neutral Zones. She’s commanded by Captain Matheson.”

“Pipe it down here, Ensign Agrippa.” Staams’ voice remained neutral.

“Aye, sir.”

The viewscreen in the Conference Lounge lit up and a smoke-filled Bridge appeared before the Lincoln officers. There was no one in sight but the moans in the background proved that there were injured and dying crew members nearby. The color drained from Commander MacEwan’s face.

“Merrimack, this is the Lincoln,” Staams said in his most authoritative voice.

A person, disheveled and bent over, limped into the field of view. Obviously in great pain, they sat them motion to someone who was off the screen, giving them instructions. “Get that electrical fire out. The fumes are killing us.”

MacEwan recognized the voice, if not the face. “That’s Lee.”

“You’re sure, Arthur?” Staams wondered how he could tell.

MacEwan answered without taking his eyes off the figure on the viewscreen. “Yes, sir. That’s Captain Matheson.”

Counselor Aldera was assailed by the turmoil of worry and concern that was coursing through MacEwan. The Ullian woman was impressed with how well he was controlling it.

Staams tried again. “Captain Matheson, this is Captain Staams of the Lincoln.”

They saw her look around, confused, and searching for the voice. So MacEwan gave it a try. “Lee. What happened?”

Her head snapped towards the video pickup. “Thank God,” she said as she hobbled over to the Communications station. “Standby, Arthur. I’ll switch you over to the main viewer.”

“She’s also in shock, Captain.” Doctor Nandor had been observing the beleaguered Captain. “She might not be lucid.”

The scene changed on the viewscreen, drawing a gasp from more than one senior officer in the Conference Lounge. Peterson growled in anticipation of the revenge that was sure to follow.

Staams took over.” Captain, give us your coordinates.”

Matheson had to move the body of her dead navigator to see the astrogator. She stared at it for a moment before she returned to a position in front of the viewscreen. “It’s damaged but the position frozen on the readout is probably close enough.” She rattled off a string of numbers.

“That’s close to the Three Corners, sir,” Rilla said, instantly identifying the sector.

“Ensign Agrippa, did you understand those coordinates?,” asked Staams.

“Aye, sir.” Excitement tinged the Magna Roman Ensign’s voice.

“Maximum warp, Ensign.” Staams’ voice was clipped when he gave the order.

“Course plotted and laid in, sir.”

“Engage.” Staams heard the engines’ characteristic whine build up to a higher pitch before leveling off. “Who did this to you, Captain?”

“Four Klingon Cruisers.” She paused, grimacing in pain and gasping while holding her stomach. It finally passed, allowing her to continued. “K’Vort-class. They were on us before decloaking and when I hailed them, they attacked us.”

Staams heard the snort from his Security Chief which was followed by a low, deep rumble. “Stand by, Captain,” he said, making the cutting symbol, a finger sharply drawn across his neck to indicate that he wanted communications put on hold.

“Mister Peterson, is it possible that there are still a few Klingon commanders who hate the Federation enough to attack a starship for absolutely no reason?”

Peterson nodded. “Yes, sir. There are always renegades, but I can’t imagine that there would be four in the same place. She must be mistaken.”

Staams turned back to the screen in time to see Matheson recovering from a coughing fit that had brought a trickle of bright red blood to the corner of her mouth. Reopening the channel, he continued,” “Are you sure that they were Klingon Cruisers?”

Matheson answered angrily. “I can read your officer’s lips, Captain Staams.” She was forced to stop by more coughing.

“Captain, try not to get her any more excited.” The Deltan Chief Medical Officer was concerned. “She’s punctured, at least, a lung. That bright red blood…” He trailed off as everyone knew the implications of what he was saying.

Recovering and wiping the bloody spittle on her sleeve, Matheson continued,” Yes, I’m sure that they were Klingons. I know Klingons vessels. I know the symbols for their Empire and their tactics. But don’t believe me. Believe this.” She gave a signal to someone who was off-screen and what they were seeing aboard the Lincoln changed. For a moment, there was nothing but stars before a shape began to materialize into a Klingon battlecruiser.

Matheson’s voice came through over the picture. “Tell me that isn’t a Klingon, Captain Staams.”

Staams looked over at Petersen and then at MacEwan before he returned to the screen. “They ambushed you?”

Matheson’s haggard image replaced the Klingon Cruiser. “It certainly looked like it.” She began coughing again and nearly collapsing. “How long will you be, Staams? There are others here who are worse off than I am.”

Staams looked at Rilla who replied. “Twenty minutes, sir.”

Matheson’s eyes moved from Staams and found MacEwan. “You can’t believe the horror, Arthur. There’s nothing in the manual to prepare you for it.” A tear streaked down through her smoke-smudged face before she continued,” Come quick, Lincoln. My crew is dying before my eyes.”

There was a sizzling noise that was accompanied by a bright flash that cut off any further communications.

 

[admiralelm11]

Oh, the horror! Are battles all I've been writing about lately? First, the Borg in Into the Void and now Klingons in this. Maybe I should see Counselor Troi? Anyways, have a Happy New Year!

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Very gripping battle scene and a mystery to go with... And the task force already knocked down by a third. Definitely a cliffhanger.. Thanks!! rbs