Chapter Text

I – War

Amaya Donners was completely sated and judging from what she could see around the table, so were her dinner companions.

            She placed her utensils onto the plate and wiped her mouth with a napkin. Directly opposite her sat the young and attractive Tenerian, DeMara Deen but it wasn’t her spellbinding appearance that had captured her attention. It was another beauty she was focused on and she never grew tired of looking at her.

            Behind Deen, through the large windows of the room, she spotted Agamemnon. She had taken a terrible beating but most of the damage had already been attended to. If nothing else, this war had made them all extremely proficient in quickly assessing and repairing damaged systems. All their lives depended on it.

            Lieutenant Deen noticed the captain’s gaze. “How are the repairs coming?”

            Donners nodded. “Quite well. All main systems are back online including shields and weapons,” she said as she returned her focus to the present company that also included their host; Michael Owens, captain of the USS Eagle, and his first officer Commander Eugene Edison. “It’s the ugly scars I’m worried about.”

            “I doubt we’ll have time for paint jobs,” Owens said with a smile. For the last few weeks, Eagle and Agamemnon had been patrolling this sector of space close to the Romulan border and so far they had encountered enemy vessels on a near-constant basis.

Owens’ smile wasn’t as bright as it used to be. The toll of constant battle was beginning to show on his face. So far, the two starships together had lost over twenty crewmen and morale was plunging deeper with every attack. And the news from the frontlines was equally discouraging. The Federation was being driven back by the combined Cardassian and Dominion forces, taking higher losses than in any previous war the Federation had been involved in.

            “If you hadn’t shown up when you did, we would have to worry about a lot more than cosmetic damage. You arrived in the very nick of time.”

            Owens stood up and retrieved a dark green bottle from a nearby cabinet. “I was going to save this for our next anniversary,” he said, referring to the tradition of celebrating each completed year Eagle was in service.

            Donners nodded. She was familiar with the ritual. Owens had decided to continue it from his former commanding officer on the Columbia. She had served on the same ship for five years herself before Owens had come aboard as the first officer.

            “But I think today is a good enough reason to celebrate,” he said and opened the bottle of Saurian brandy, the distinctly zesty aroma of the infamous beverage quickly filling the room.

            Donners and the others gathered their glasses and Eagle’s captain didn’t hesitate to fill them, leaving his for last.

            “To the nick of time,” he said, raising his glass.

            “To the nick of time,” she replied, toasting with the others.

            Both Deen and Edison noticed the look in Owens’ eyes as he watched Donners finish her brandy. They were old friends, of course, but it wasn’t difficult to tell that there was more going on between them. The look vanished from his face before the ebony-skinned captain of the Agamemnon could spot it.

            “Have you spoken to Throl lately?” she said, referring to the admiral currently in command of the Twelfth Fleet to which both Eagle and Agamemnon had been assigned to.

            He shook his head. “No, have you?”

            “Not since last weeks when he barely escaped a Dominion onslaught in the Argus sector. Things must be going a lot worse than the official news feeds make out if Throl is getting caught up that close to the frontlines.”

            “That is difficult to believe,” Deen said. “Those reports are pretty grim.”

            Edison took the final sip from his brandy. “I hate to even think it but we just can’t afford to fight this war the way we have in the past. We need something and we need it soon.”

            “Something?” said Deen.

            “An edge. Something, anything, to shift the things in our favor,” said Owens and found both Donners and Edison nod in agreement.

            “Like what?”

            “That is exactly the question that most Starfleet tacticians are currently pondering, I reckon,” the first officer said.

            “We’ve been through bad times before,” said Deen. She was the eternal optimist by nature. Her people had never seen war in their history and she had always found it difficult to grasp the concept. Even now, after weeks of grueling warfare, she was not willing to give up on her worldview which had served her for so long. “The Romulans, the Tzenkethi, the Cardassians, the Borg, the Klingons; the Federation has faced them all in battle and we’re still here.”

            The dark-haired captain of the Agamemnon shook her head. “Those wars were different; we never faced such a determined enemy before.”

            “The Borg were fairly determined,” the Tenarian said.

            “There is no denying that. I lost more than one good friend at 359,” the British first officer said. His voice took on a sad tone as he remembered the many comrades he had lost in just one day. Starfleet’s first significant confrontation with the cyborg race had lasted only a few hours and yet had been one of the single most devastating attacks in Federation history. That was until the Dominion had decided to outdo the Borg and the destruction they had caused.

            “As awful as the Borg were, they never put as much dedication into their efforts of conquering the Alpha Quadrant as the Dominion has,” said Owens and looked at Deen. “Yes, we came close to the brink a couple of times with the Borg but we managed to defeat them swiftly each time. The Dominion, however, will not stop until we surrender or there’s nobody left who can.”

            Donners nodded sadly.

            “Let’s change the subject,” Owens said as he felt the mood around the table taking a dive. “There’s plenty of war waiting for us after dinner.”

            “I second that,” said Deen with a smile.

            “What gets me through these times is to imagine what exactly I’m going to do when all this is over,” said Edison, refilling his glass.

            “Let me guess,” Deen said. “Risa?”

            The first officer shook his head. “Not quite.”

            “I figure it be pretty crowded there anyway,” said Donners taking another sip of her drink.

            “Exactly. Better to avoid the tourist traps altogether. I was thinking along the lines of the Scottish Highlands. You’d be hard-pressed to find a more breathtaking place in all the galaxy.”

            “Perhaps,” Donners said, “But I don’t think the climate agrees with me. My first shore leave will be spent somewhere with a lot more sun. And beaches, long, beautiful beaches. Someplace like—”

            “Jamaica,” Owens and Donners said at the same time, causing them to share a laugh.

            “So, it is true,” Edison said, smirking. “Captains do all think alike.”

            “When we were back at the Academy, we spent several fun-filled weekends in the Caribbean,” Owens said, enjoying the nostalgia that swept over him, taking him back to a simpler and much more pleasant time.

            Judging from her knowing smile, Donner's thoughts were in a similar place. “The stories I could tell you about your captain while he was a cadet.”

            “Please, don’t hold anything back,” Eugene said, his interest piqued.

            Owens gave Donners a stern look. “You swore yourself to secrecy.”

            “Well,” she said and took a deep, dramatic breath as Michael Owens continued to watch her carefully.

            “As much as I would love to stay and hear about this,” said Deen suddenly. “There are several reports I need to finish today,” she said and placed her napkin from her lap onto the table.

            Edison shot her a surprised glance. “I was looking forward to hearing this.”

            She shrugged her shoulders as if entirely clueless as to what she had done.

            Donners slowly exhaled. “That’s quite all right,” she said. “Your captain knows an equal number of embarrassing stories about me. Knowing him he would get his revenge by telling every single one of them to my crew.”

            “Never,” said Owens with a sarcastic smile.

            “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to spoil your fun,” Deen said and stood.

            Owens gave Deen an incredulous look. He had known the young Tenarian for a long time and for some reason, he didn’t buy her excuse at all. Something in her tone gave her away. Nobody else seemed to notice.

            “I have a staff meeting I should get ready for as well,” the first officer said and also stood, turning to Donners. “It was a pleasure meeting you.” He had heard much about Amaya Donners from Owens but he had never met her before this evening. She had not been a disappointment and he was sure she was the most charming, not to mention the most gorgeous Starfleet captain he had ever met. Even before they had all sat down for dinner together, she had insisted that they forgo the use of ranks and titles and he had happily complied.

            “The pleasure was mine, Gene. The best of luck to you.”

            “To all of us,” said Edison, gave a quick nod to his own captain and Deen, and then left Owens’ quarters.

            “That reminds me,” said Donners. “I really should check in with Agamemnon.”

            Owens nodded and pointed at a nearby door. “Use the bedroom.”

            Donners smiled at Deen and then stepped away.

            As soon as the doors had closed behind her, Owens turned to Deen. “Something bothering you?”

            “No, why?”

            “Call it a hunch.”

            She shook her head.

            For just a moment, an uncomfortable silence filled the room. It was rare for there to be awkward silences between Owens and Deen for as long as they had known each other. They had both always prided themselves that they could talk to each other about virtually anything.

            It was Owens who ultimately broke it. “You mentioned some reports.”

            “Yes,” said Deen absent-mindedly but then looked straight into his eyes. “Did you speak to Amaya about Frobisher yet?”

            Owens stiffened immediately at the mention of the man who had killed his brother. But not just because of the terrible things he had done to him and his family but also because he had never told Amaya Donners how Doctor Frobisher’s insane experiment had altered the timeline and as a result their relationship as well.

“Honestly, I still don’t know how to.”

 “You need to tell her. She deserves to know.”

 “Why? Why can’t she just remain unaware of the mistakes that I’ve made in the past that hurt her so much? They’ve become irrelevant, they’ve never happened.”

Deen didn’t know all the details of what had transpired between Owens and Donners in that different timeline. All she knew for certain was that Donners had hated him once. But after Owens and Deen had returned from their unintentional trip into the past, their relationship had suddenly been cordial; romantic even. “You owe her.”

Owens considered her for a moment. He couldn’t quite understand why she was so determined for him to tell Donners about something that seemed to matter so little now. He finally nodded slowly. “I will try.”

            Deen seemed somewhat satisfied with that answer. “I’ll leave you to it then,” she said and began to walk toward the exit. But she stopped and turned back around before reaching the doors. “Be brave,” she said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

            The doors to his bedroom opened and Donners returned. “Be brave about what?”

            “Oh,” Deen said, slightly blushing. “You know, in the face of adversity, the war, the Dominion.”

            Lying didn’t come easy to Deen, and Donners could tell. “Sure. Always a pleasure, Dee.”

            The Tenarian exchanged another look with Owens and then left the quarters.

            “Is it just my imagination or is DeMara acting somewhat strange today?”

            “I don’t think it’s your imagination,” he said almost to himself, his eyes remaining glued to the now-closed doors. “This war, it’s getting to all of us.”

            Donners nodded sadly. “Ain’t that the truth? I hate to think what it will do to her though. She’s,” she paused to think of the right words, “too delicate for this ugly kind of business.”

            Owens took a step closer to her. “I wouldn’t worry too much about her. She is tougher than people give her credit for. How are things on your ship?”

             “I like to think that things fall apart over there when I’m not around. The truth is they’re all extremely capable,” she said, smiling broadly.

            “It’s hard to accept that we’re not as indispensable as we like to think.”

            Donners approached the window to get a better look at her ship. She took in the sight for a moment. “Yeah well, at least I take comfort in the fact that we’re all unique. Not some replaceable clones like the Jem’Hadar, designed and manufactured in a lab with a hundred thousand versions just like them,” she said, her eyes never leaving the window.

            Owens frowned slightly as he considered how to make the transition to what he needed to tell her.

            She turned back to him. “Now here I go ruining everyone’s mood again,” she said with a chuckle. She became more serious when she noticed his determined expression. “What’s wrong?”

            “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

            Her eyebrows rose expectantly.

            “But I’m not sure where to start.”

            “Try the beginning.”

            “Yeah, I guess that would make sense.”

            She took a step closer. “Is this one of those conversations where I better sit down?”

            Owens nodded slowly.

            “If I can take the Dominion, I can take whatever you’ve decided to heap on me,” she said but took the seat.

            Owens forced a little smile onto his lips but he remained on his feet. “You remember our mission to Farga a few months ago?”

            “Of course,” she said. “You went after Doctor Frobisher, your brother’s killer.”

            He nodded and turned away and toward the window. “Could you imagine a situation in which you would feel very differently about me than you do now?”

            Donners’ cheeks reddened slightly. He couldn’t tell if it was an after-effect of the Saurian brandy or something else. “Well, I’m not sure how to answer that, maybe if you –“

            He didn’t let her finish. “Hate me even?”

            She stood. “Hate you?” It hadn’t been what she had expected. “Why would I hate you?”

            He turned to face her again. “Because of something very stupid that I’ve done. Might have done, or … would have done, or … I don’t know,” he said with frustration. Talking about different timelines gave him a terrible headache.

            “You’re not making a lot of sense here, Michael,” she said and took a step forward. “If you think I’m going to hate you for something that you did –“

            “No, it’s not that. Well, not quite.”

            “Just tell me already.”

            “It has to do with,“ he interrupted himself when he saw her eyes opening wide and he was certain it was not because of him. Something else had captured her attention. He whipped around and immediately noticed that something had appeared in the distance. It was too far away to make out clearly but he knew instantly that it wasn’t a good sign. His fears were confirmed just a second later.

            The unmistakable hauling of the red alert klaxons filled his quarters.

            “Red Alert, four enemy vessels are approaching our coordinates.” It was the voice of Eagle’s Vulcan science officer that boomed over the intercom. “Senior officers report to your stations. Captain to the bridge.”

            Donners didn’t waste any time. “Rain check?” she said before tapping the combadge on her chest. “Donners to Agamamnon. One person to beam over.”

            “Take care,” he almost whispered.

            Donners had just enough time for one small nod before she was engulfed in bright blue light. A moment later she had completely disappeared.

            Michael Owens headed straight out of the door and toward the bridge. All the while trying desperately to figure out the odds for two damaged starships to fight off four Jem’Hadar attack vessels. He gave up even before he had reached the bridge. The numbers were too discouraging.

*        *        *

Commander Eugene Edison had been in enough battles to know that this was a bad one. 

            The Jem’Hadar ships had come out of seemingly nowhere, using a nearby asteroid field to hide their approach. And Eagle and Agamemnon had made an inviting target. Both ships had still been undergoing repairs from the previous skirmish when the enemy attacked. Even though their main systems: shields, weapons, and engines were fully functional, they were not yet operating at peak efficiency. And the Jem’Hadar knew this. Their attack had been aggressive and targeted the Starfleet vessel’s most vulnerable areas. Eagle and her companion had been in a defensive struggle from the moment the fight had begun.

            Edison held on to the armrests of his chair as the bridge shook violently under the incoming fire. As the first officer, one of his main responsibilities was the crew itself and so he allowed himself a quick look around the bridge with well-practiced ease in order to assess the situation, ensuring nobody had been harmed and everyone was focused on the task at hand.

            The young Trill officer, Ensign Lutira Rei was currently manning the operations station. Her raven black hair had come loose of its tight bun and fell into her round face. Rei had come right out of the Academy no two years ago. Edison had always liked her energy and dedication. She had been naïve and inexperienced when she had come aboard but had lost much of that in the last few weeks. She was not supposed to be at that station, however. Edison did not know why Lieutenant Deen had not made it to the bridge yet but he had no time to investigate. He was determined to do so as soon as the current threat had passed.

            “We’ve lost ventral thrusters. The lead vessel is coming around for another pass,” said the un-joined Trill as she pushed a loose strand of hair out of her face.

            Next to her, Edison could see Lieutenant Lif Culsten hard at work trying to keep Eagle out of the firing cone of the two enemy ships that seemed to be perpetually stuck on their tail. His fingers raced across the console faster than those of most humans could, including his own, he was sure. The copper-skinned Krellonian possessed a superior nervous system that allowed for increased reflexes. A trait that came in very handy when maneuvering a three-million-ton starship in battle. At the moment, Culsten’s reflexes were the only thing keeping Eagle in one piece but they were not enough to keep the ship from taking one big hit after another.

            “They’re slippery and we’re too sluggish,” he said with frustration in his voice. “I can’t maintain a firing position.”

            Edison stood and turned to look at the half-Romulan tactical officer who stood at his elevated station behind him. “Torpedoes?”

            Leva shook his head. “Too close.”

            He considered Leva to be one of the best tactical officers he had ever known. And Edison knew a few things about tactics himself. Leva was a fascinating man and a near-unique anomaly among Federation citizens. The offspring of a Romulan diplomat and a human liaison officer, Edison knew that he had always been conflicted about his heritage until he had joined Starfleet. On Eagle, he had become one of his most valuable officers. Although he could not deny his disappointment over his performance in the last few weeks. He was certain that he was capable of much more. This was a hell of a bad time for the tactical officer to lose his edge, he thought.

            “Impulse burst.”

            Edison looked up to find that the remark had come not from Leva but from a beast of a man. Or at least that was the impression one could have perceived by looking at Lieutenant D’Karr. He was easily over two meters tall, towering even over the lofty Romulan, and his body was pure muscle. He was a warrior, bred for war and all Klingon. Courtesy of the Klingon Defense Force he was taking part in an exchange program designed to counter the increasing personnel shortage that was plaguing Starfleet. And he had proven to be a very resourceful officer since he had come aboard. If there was one thing Klingons knew well it was how to do battle. He was thankful the warrior was on their side and found that his integration into the crew had been much easier than he had expected.

            Edison nodded and looked toward the center seat. Captain Michael Owens sat in his chair, his body poised slightly forward and a tense yet focused expression on his face. His eyes were firmly fixed on the viewscreen ahead. Edison had rarely known a better captain and a more determined leader than Owens. He certainly wasn’t the warrior type and a soldier by circumstance only. His strength came from his dedication to not just his ship and his crew but to the fleet and the Federation and its ideals. He knew Owens wouldn’t hesitate to travel to hell and back if he had to save the Federation. As far as he was concerned, they were already halfway there.

            Even though he appeared as though he had not heard a single word that had been spoken in the last few seconds, he did slightly move his head to signal his agreement. “Do it,” he said without ever taking his eyes off the screen.

            Edison allowed himself a glance back at the Klingon officer and noticed a disapproving look on Leva’s face. He had no time to wonder about it. They needed to act quickly. “Bridge to engineering.”

            “Go ahead, Commander,” answered Lieutenant Louise Hopkins’ voice promptly.

            “Stand by to initiate an impulse burst. All the power you can muster.”

            “Understood.”

            A small smile crept onto his lips. Another engineer might have raised a protest at his order or at least made a discouraging remark about straining the engines too much. Not so Hopkins, Eagle’s resident engineering genius. She was with no doubt the most proficient engineer on the ship and at a surprisingly young age as well. Unfortunately, her talents came at a price. She was extremely insecure and apprehensive outside her engineering room. If it wasn’t for her technical expertise, Edison was sure she would have made a poor officer. But this merely meant that he had his work cut out for him. He would mold her into an exemplary Starfleet crewmember. Sadly, the war would require everyone to toughen up and learn the hard way that weaknesses had to be conquered quickly.

            “Lieutenant?” he said, addressing Culsten at the helm.

            “Ready.”

            Edison glanced at Owens.

            “Go,” the captain said simply.

            Eagle’s bridge shuddered slightly as the internal dampening field failed to compensate quickly enough for the sudden burst of speed. Like a jet plane’s afterburner of long-forgotten wars, the engines delivered one powerful forward push that catapulted the ship a few thousand kilometers away from its pursuing enemy.

            Edison didn’t need to check his instruments. He knew from looking at the viewscreen that they had achieved the distance necessary to perform their counterattack. He whipped around to face Leva. “Quantum torpedoes, full spread.”

            “Torpedoes away.”

            The bridge crew held their collective breath as eight blue blooms of lights crossed the viewscreen, quickly closing on their target. A bright explosion filled the viewer no three seconds later.

            “Direct hit,” Rei said with barely concealed exhilaration and swiveled around in her chair. “The Jem’Hadar ship has been destroyed.”

            “Contain your excitement until the end of the battle, Ensign,” Edison said more sternly than he had wanted to. He quickly regretted it when he noticed the disappointed look on the young Trill’s face but he needed her to remain focused. This was not over yet.

            “Yes, sir,” she said and quickly turned back to her station.

            “Come about to two-seven-five mark seven-five, full power to forward shields,” said Owens, sounding slightly more relaxed.

            Edison felt his mood improve as well. The tide of the battle had finally turned; Eagle could now shift onto the offensive.

            “Sir, I …” Rei didn’t continue, instead she began to frantically operate her console.

            Edison quickly stepped up next to her. “What is it, Ensign,” he said, making an effort to sound softer than he had before.

            “I lost sensor contact with the second Jem’Hadar vessel.”

            The first officer shot a glance at the Romulan. “Tactical?”

            Leva quickly turned to his controls. “They were there just a few seconds ago. Stand by.”

            Owens stood from his chair, pure frustration evident on his face. “Come on people, find me that ship.”

            “I’ve got it,” D’Karr shouted across the bridge. “Coordinates: one-seven-eight mark one-eight-one. They are using a double-phased shield modulation to fool our sensors.”

            Rei looked helplessly at the first officer at her side. She didn’t understand.

            Edison lowered himself slightly to access her console. “They’re re-modulating their shield frequency so quickly that the sensors can’t lock on to them, it’s a dirty trick. Set your scans to a rapid modulation setting,” he said and quickly activated a series of panels. “Here that should do it.”

            Rei nodded. “Got it, thanks.”

            “You’re doing fine,” he said with a reaffirming smile.

            “They’re coming in hot,” Culsten said as soon as he had adjusted his sensors.

            Owens could see the incoming threat from the console inside his armrest. “Evasive, hard to starboard.”

            Edison tried to get back to his seat to brace himself. He was not fast enough.

            The bridge heaved as though caught in the epicenter of an enormous earthquake. Most standing crew members were thrown to the floor. Two consoles exploded immediately, showering the bridge with sparks and debris. By the time Edison managed to get back to his feet, he realized that the operations console had been one of them. The seat was empty and Lutira Rei lay sprawled out on the deck not far from him.

            In the aft part of the bridge, another blown console had caused no casualties but it had catapulted Leva to the floor and away from his station. D’Karr had managed to remain on his feet and offered Leva his hand to help him off the deck.

            “I can manage,” he said and returned to his station, leaving the Klingon. If he was irritated by the Romulan’s behavior he didn’t show it.

            “Damage report,” Owens said.

            “Shields have failed momentarily but are back to twenty percent power,” Leva replied. “We have hull breaches on decks six, nine, and fifteen. Emergency force fields are in place.”

            Edison had made a beeline for the fallen Trill ensign and checked her neck for a pulse. He found it but it was faint. Her eyes were wide open but did not move.

            “Do we need medical?” Owens said.

            Edison turned to the captain, giving him an empty look. He heard the ensign cough and quickly returned his attention to her.

            “I’m sorry,” she whispered her eyes now drilling into the first officer.

            He quickly shook his head. “You did fine,” he said reassuringly.

            “I … let you down,” she said barely audible. Blood was coming out of her mouth now. Edison knew instantly that all help would come too late for the young woman.  But he didn’t want to give up on her.

            “You’ll be all right, Ensign.”

            “Medical emergency on the bridge.”

            He barely heard the captain’s voice, his complete attention directed at the dying eyes of Ensign Rei.

            She nodded ever so barely.

            He picked up her head. “You did just fine, Lutira.”

            Edison would never know if she had heard his last words or not. He allowed himself another second before he quickly moved on. This was not the time to mourn the dead. Instead, he promptly took a seat at the now vacant operations console.

            “Fire at will,” said Owens.

            Seconds later, a barrage of phaser fire and torpedoes was slung toward the passing Jem’Hadar attack ship. Edison looked down at his console, relieved that more than half of the displays and panels were still operational. The instruments quickly confirmed what he had hoped for. Their assault was devastating mostly thanks to the fact that Culsten had managed to maneuver Eagle into an ideal firing position and maintained it throughout their evasive attempts.

            “Their shields are buckling,” Leva said without revealing much emotion in his voice.

            On the screen, a bright flare signaled the demise of the enemy’s protective shields, and moments later theirweapons began to pound away at their armor. It would prove no match for Eagle’s firepower. The phasers and torpedoes dug deep into their superstructure and within a few seconds the ship tumbled out of control.

            “The enemy has been disabled,” D’Karr said dryly. “We can easily finish them now.”

            “We are not Klingons. We don’t destroy defenseless ships,” Leva said.

            “They are the enemy,” D’Karr answered, as if not comprehending what the other man had said.

            Even though Edison found himself in agreement with his tactical officer, he couldn’t afford to take sides. His sensors were informing him of a quickly worsening situation. “Captain, the Agamemnon is in trouble.”

            “On screen.”

            Donners’ ship had fared relatively well over the last minutes considering that the damaged ship had been up against two pristine Jem’Hadar attack vessels. It had managed to dispose of one but in the end, it had lost the contest and was now being mercilessly hounded by the remaining pursuer. Agamemnon was venting atmosphere through half a dozen hull breaches.

            “Target their weapons,” Owens said right away. “Fire photon torpedoes.”

            “Firing.”

            Eagle unleashed several photon projectiles. Less powerful than the quantum kind but more precise and with a more controlled damage radius they would ensure that Agamemnon would not take damage from any impacts.

            The last remaining Jem’Hadar ship could do nothing to avoid the full brunt of the attack. Its weapons and most of its engines were destroyed instantly.

            Edison had been quickly and silently relieved by Lieutenant Lance Stanmore and as he got up to clear the chair he noticed Owens’ sigh of relief he had not been able to hide.

            “Look.”

            It was Culsten’s insistent cry that forced everybody to take a second glance at the viewscreen. There, the bug-shaped Jem’Hadar ship had managed to activate what was left of their engines only to plot a direct collision course with Agamemnon.

            “Fire all weapons.”

            Leva didn’t acknowledge the order but went straight to the controls to once again dip into Eagle’s arsenal.

            Edison turned to the helm. “Full impulse, Lieutenant. Get us over there, now.”

            “Aye, sir.”

            Stanmore was already shaking his head. He was an able officer, not as experienced and versatile as DeMara Deen perhaps but certainly the next best operations officer on the ship. And he could tell they were not doing enough. “At this rate, we will not be able to stop a collision.”

            “Mister Leva, hail the Agamemnon, tell them to get out of the way,” Owens said.

            “They’re not going to make it,” Edison realized as he watched the impending disaster on the viewscreen. The Jem’Hadar ship was on a suicide run and would collide with the much larger ship within seconds. A tactic that would ensure both ship’s destruction.

            D’Karr stepped up to the tactical station and began to manipulate the controls.

            “What do you think you’re doing?” Leva said, doing a poor job of keeping his irritation in check.

            “A well-placed phaser blast might change the vessel’s trajectory.”

            “A phaser beam doesn’t have nearly enough power to do that,” said Leva.

            “That’s why we need to increase energy output one-hundred eighty percent,” he said without interrupting his efforts.

            “That would melt the arrays.”

            But D’Karr continued. Leva was about to push the man away but a stern look from Edison stopped him in his tracks. The first officer wasn’t sure what the Klingon had in mind but he knew that it might be the only chance Agamemnon had.

            Not a moment later, a massive energy beam shot across space, easily four times the girth of a regular phaser burst. The ship shuddered as it released more power than it had ever been designed to.

            As Edison watched the energy lance on the viewscreen, he realized that it had not been released by any of Eagle’s phaser banks. The Klingon had used the ship’s navigational deflector instead, surely crippling it in the process.

            The beam found its target and pushed the Jem’Hadar vessel off course. The already heavily damaged vessel quickly broke apart under the immensely powerful energy discharge. Even as the main body was pushed toward empty space, numerous explosions caused parts of the hull to break loose. One of the larger pieces – the starboard warp nacelle – continued to spin toward Agamemnon. Before anybody could even think of another course of action, the nacelle impacted with the Starfleet vessel’s hull.

            Owens watched helplessly as the front of the debris fragment crashed into the upper part of Agamemnon’s saucer section. He knew all too well which parts of the ship would take the brunt of the damage.

            “I’m reading hull breaches on deck four through one,” Stanmore said.

            “The bridge,” Edison said quietly and looked at the captain.

            “Drop shields, bring us into transporter range.”

            Edison turned back to the screen. Fortunately, the initial impact had caused the nacelle’s momentum to change enough so that it now drifted away from the ship. “Bridge to sickbay, prepare emergency rescue teams to be beamed onto Agamemnon. Prepare for mass casualties.”

            Owens didn’t turn away from the sight of destruction. “Commander Leva,” he nearly croaked. “Hail the Agamemnon.”

            For a few seconds utter silence reigned on the bridge.

            “No response.”

            It wasn’t difficult to spot the pain in Owens’ eyes as he let himself fall into the captain’s chair.

            Silence again.

            “Sir, the Agamemnon is replying.”

            Edison’s head whipped toward the screen.

            It was filled with static and it was difficult to make out much of anything. The signal appeared to originate on the bridge. It looked desolated.

            Owens tensed up noticeably.

            As the image cleared a man’s face came into view. It was blue. Edison recognized the man as a Bolian. It was his counterpart on Agamemnon. Commander Arden Texx.

            “What is your status, Commander?” Owens said, clearly fearing an answer. “Do you need assistance?”

            There seemed to be a short delay in the communications link probably due to damaged receivers on the other vessel.

            “We’ve sustained some moderate structural damage over here but nothing that we can’t take care of,” he said with an almost irritatingly friendly disposition. But then took on a more serious demeanor. “We’ve also had some casualties.”

            It was only then that he noticed that Texx was not actually standing on the main bridge at all. He stood on the auxiliary bridge, nestled securely in the bowls of the ship.

            “We managed to evacuate the outer areas in time or we would have had much grimmer news to contend with.”

            One of the doors to the battle bridge opened and Amaya Donners stepped into the room. She looked somewhat ruffled and her uniform was dirty but her stride was casual as if taking a walk through the park.

            “Appreciate the quick thinking over there. We’re in your debt,” she said with a smile.

            Edison watched his captain carefully. He could see that it took him a moment to realize that his worst fears had not come to pass. He took in a deep breath and visibly relaxed and only then answered Donners’ smile in kind. “We do what we can to keep you in one piece.”

            Donners nodded. “Of course you do. You just hope that you don’t get into trouble anytime soon. I’m not so sure if we are as vigilant over here.”

            “Sir,” Edison began. “Do you need any assistance? We have medical teams standing by.”

            “I think we have things under control for now, thanks Gene.”

            He nodded.

            “We’ll be here if you need us,” Owens said. “Ever so vigilant.”

            Donners laughed. “Agamemnon out.”

            The bridge disappeared from the screen to be replaced by the heavily scarred exterior of the Akira-class starship. Several crew members in EVA suits and small work bees were already swarming around the damaged sections.

            The first officer turned to face the captain. “That was close.”

            Owens nodded. “Too close for comfort,” he admitted and turned to Stanmore. “Lieutenant, make long-range sensors your top priority and then initiate a comprehensive scan of this sector. We cannot afford another Jem’Hadar encounter today.”

            “Right away, sir,” the young officer replied and went to work.

            Edison in the meanwhile watched attentively as three medics who had entered the bridge moments before were tending to the body of Ensign Rei. He knew that some Trill carried inside them a worm-like creature that would take all of its host's memories to a new body after it died. Rei had been young and had never been joined with a symbiont. Like humans and most other races her life and her memories had ended right there and then. When he turned away from the sad scene he cursed himself for not having done more to prevent her death, even if he wasn’t sure what else he could have done..

            “Lieutenant D’Karr your actions were unconventional,” Owens said, forcing Edison’s focus back to those still alive.

            The warrior stood tall and proud at the tactical station, his face a stern visage as usual. He nodded slightly at the captain’s comments. “On a Klingon ship I’m used to –“

            The first officer interrupted him. “In case you hadn’t noticed yet,” he said sternly, “this isn’t a Klingon ship.”

            D’Karr shot him an icy look and Edison was convinced he could recognize something akin to blood lust in his eyes.

            Edison looked at the captain and noticed his smile. Edison himself could not keep one off his own face.

            D’Karr seemed irritated.

            “How do you think the Klingon Defense Force would react if I petitioned them for a permanent transfer?” he asked D’Karr.

            “I assume they would be surprised.”

            “To say the least,” Owens said. “You showed some excellent awareness and quick thinking, Lieutenant. I’m very pleased.”

            D’Karr simply nodded. He was most likely not used to receiving such praise. But pride seemed to radiate from every bone in his body.

            “Sir, this last unconventional tactic has seriously damaged our navigational deflector,” Leva said, sounding anything but impressed.

            Edison took a step toward tactical. “It saved a great many lives, Commander.”

            “Permission to leave the bridge for a full damage assessment,” he said as if he hadn’t heard a word Edison had said.

            His demand continued to hang in the air for a few moments. All eyes on the bridge now staring at the tactical officer.

            “Permission granted,” Owens said after a moment.

            Leva turned on his heels and headed straight for the nearest turbo-lift.

            “What’s eating him?” Culsten said quietly.

            Stanmore, next to him, shrugged his shoulders. “Job security?”

            Owens’ eyes were still fixed on the closed doors when he spoke. “Mister D’Karr, perhaps you can be as helpful with repairs.”

            “Certainly,” came the quick reply, and without another thought he turned away to tackle his next ask.

            “Stand down from red alert,” said Owens and turned to Edison. “Gene, I want a full damage report and repair estimates within the hour.”

            He nodded.

            “I’ll be in my ready room,” he said and then quickly crossed into his private office adjacent to the bridge.

            Edison took a deep breath and looked around the battle-torn bridge. The smell of burned material, desperation, and death lingered heavy in the air. Although victorious in the end, this had been a bad encounter from the moment it had begun. It was merely one of many in the last few days. He wondered how many more they would be able to endure.