Ensigns of Command by Gothamkitty

[Kheren]

Foreword

Um. Hey yall. It's me, GothamKitty. And I had decided to post one of my scribbles for general review.

.....Please be kind. xD I've never really let anyone else read this stuff. But also be constructive; I would like to, y'know, get better. And I figure the only way to do that is by seeking advice.

So, uh, without further ado, welcome to my mad scribbles. Ye be warned.

This is a story that I did over a weekend and edited over two weeks time. It's based on that first mission, the Borg one at Vega, in STO. It's just a short story, nothing major. I have taken some creative liscence with the plot and the characters, but nothing big.

Warnings for language, no Fbombs, action, and some character death. Probably about T/PG13.

[Kheren]

ENSIGNS OF COMMAND
Random Oneshot inspired by the Demo of STO
By GothamKitty



Samantha Brown stepped off the transporter pad and onto the USS Avalon with a smile on her face. The newly promoted Lieutenant had been transferred –again- but this time, she hoped, it would be different. In these times of war, new officers typically bounced around until they gained the experience necessary to be an asset, not a pain in the ass. The benefit was a quick maturation. The downside was that they never experienced the sense of family that is commonly associated with a well-rounded crew and starship.

She was dressed in Security red, and stopped crisply to attention when she saw Captain Qat’Anmek. She blinked; she hadn’t expected a greeting by the captain himself. She was just another security girl. “Lt. Brown,” he greeted. “At ease, I’m not huge on formality. I just wanted to say hi and meet you in person,” he said, extending his hand for a shake with a wide smile. She took it with a firm grip. “Captain Henry is a friend of mine. He had good things to say about you.”

Captain Qat’Anmek saw a young human girl, with straight black hair cut to the nape of her neck and kept out of her face by a natural part; most of it was swept to one side and tucked behind an ear. She had a bit of an Asian look about her. Her eyes were dark brown and lively, her skin pale.

She blushed a little. “Thank you, sir. Captain Henry was very patient with us new kids,” she said. “He used to be an Academy teacher and it showed.”

The captain chuckled. “The man is practically one big kid himself,” he agreed. She found herself liking the man. He was friendly, but not doting. She didn’t want doting; she was here to learn, not be coddled. He was at ease with his position of command and with hers, without making her feel uncomfortable. Sam had the rare feeling that this guy was one of the good ones. She resolved to pay attention to him and the way he handled things. In six or seven years, it might be her up there on the center seat. “Walk with me,” he asked.

The Avalon was a modified Centaur class ship, created by sticking the saucer section of a ShiKahr class vessel onto the elegant nacelles of the Centaur class. It was small, but agile and scrappy. As they walked, was obvious the ship was Captain Qat’Anmek’s baby, even though it was just out of Spacedock.

“So, have you met Security Chief Gron?”

She shook her head. Gron was one of the few Klingons remaining in Starfleet. Now that J’mpok had spaced the idea of diplomacy for the barrel of a disruptor, most of them had resigned to fight for their homeworld. Gron was a different story.

“Well, you will soon enough. Do you have any questions?” he asked kindly. “I’m a little like Captain Henry; I enjoy the new kids too, especially ones with promise.”

Promise? Well, hell, look at that. He thinks I have promise! She must have looked surprised, because he laughed. “I make it a point to keep track of bright young things like yourself. The way you handled the Dantoni Incident was very well done. Keep it up. Starfleet needs people like you.”

“I- It was just- We had to get the relief supplies to the colonists, or they’d starve that winter, sir,” she said, a little bit confused. “I really just did my job. That’s all.”

“Carting a ton of supplies from a crashed shuttle over a mountain range to reach the town, while fighting off wild beasts and bandits for five days? That’s a little bit beyond the job description, Lt. Brown,” he said gently. But, seeing she was uncomfortable, he changed the subject. “Any questions for your captain, while I’m here?”

She grinned at him. “Just one, actually. Can you tell me where Ensign Tolek’s room is?”

“Ah, our overachieving young Vulcan.” She suppressed a chuckled; that was Tolek all right. “72 Section D, third deck. All the ensigns are in Section D; the turbo’s that way. Friend of yours?”

Sam smiled. “We were Academy yearmates. Me, Tolek, Anthia, Phelix, and Zard. I wanted to look them up, once I got here. It’ll be good to see them again after two years,” she said fondly. The five of them had been the best of friends; even Tolek had admitted, on occasion, that he was ‘exceedingly fond of their presence’.

The captain laughed. “Well, that’s good! You’ve got some time before Gron wants you. Go look up your friends, and I’ll see you later, Lieutenant.”

She nodded, filing away that information for later. Giving him one last smile, she turned in the direction he indicated.

“Oh, and Lt. Brown? Welcome to the Avalon.”

=/\=

Phelix was just coming back from his shift in Sickbay. The young doctor, a Denobulan, was smiling; then again he rarely wasn’t. He was sure he could beat Tolek today in 4D chess. He had a new plan all worked out-

He rounded the corner to Section D and stopped.

“Sam?”

The girl in red turned. “Phelix!”

“I- I didn’t know you had been assigned here,” he said, as she hugged him, completely without regard for the two pips on her collar. He was a little taller, a little older, but still Phelix with his ready smile and kind words of encouragement. His hair was brown and curly, cut short, and compassionate green eyes crinkled at the corners. He wore the Junior Medical Officer uniform, which was white and blue, rather than the black and blue of a full-fledged doctor.

“It’s recent. Hey, look, I’m a Lieutenant,” she said, showing him.

“Well, you’re the first of the Fabulous Five.”

“Hahaha, I thought for sure Tolek would have pulled off some scientific marvel by now.”

“Oh, no, the woman in charge of the Science division is a Vulcan herself. She is sort of taking him under her wing, but she can also be a difficult taskmaster, from what I hear,” Phelix said. “She’s making him work for it.”

“And you’re still the class gossip,” Sam laughed. “My God, it’s so good to see you again! Let’s find the rest of the gang and get a drink.”

“That,” Phelix said, “is the best idea I have heard all day. You should challenge Tolek again. He’s much better at 4D chess now.”

Sam snorted gleefully. “Not as good as me.” Which was true; Sam was the only person who could consistently out-wit Tolek. Her grasp of tactics and strategy was instinctive, just as Tolek’s understanding of the sciences was. Phelix watched her. He knew she had a thing for the Vulcan, but she had never said anything about it. He suspected she was embarrassed and shy –quite likely- or that she didn’t want to jeopardize their friendship by trying to turn it into a relationship, also quite likely.

They caught up on the way to Tolek’s room. Phelix was doing his residency in Sickbay as a JMO, or Junior Medical Officer. He thought this Trill nurse had a thing for him, but he wasn’t sure. She was difficult to figure out.

Tolek, ensconced in his room surrounded by scientific texts and journals, didn’t look up from his work at the soft chime of his door. He was busy. He didn’t have time to beat Phelix again at 4D chess and he didn’t want to listen to Anthia rant again about what idiots her coworkers and superiors were (the Andorian was having adjustment issues, he knew, largely due to the Chief Engineer.) Zard, who was actually good company, was busy with his new novel.

But when it rang the fourth time, he restrained the urge to sigh and stood, checking his uniform automatically. Selkar wanted those pads done tonight; what did they want?

He opened the door.

“Samantha?” he asked, before he could stop himself. And a Lieutenant as well.

“In the flesh. I just transferred here,” she explained. “Put your work aside and come on, we’re all getting drinks together!”

He felt his lips twitch, the Vulcan equivalent of a broad smile. “It is agreeable to see you again, Samantha. How are you?”

“I’m fine, hell, even great right now, so come on and let’s go get Anthia and Zard! Phelix told me you’ve gotten better at 4D chess. I bet I can still whup ya,” she teased. He didn’t look different at all from when they had last seen each other. Still pale and lanky, still serious, but with the sparkle in his eyes she liked that came from being raised on Earth rather than Vulcan. His sense of sarcasm was nothing short of fantastic, and he was well-qualified to be a genius. His hair was a very unusual shade for a Vulcan: a vibrant red color that contrasted with his brown eyes. It was his family’s trait for thousands of years, that red hair. He wore the regular science uniform, and it went well with him, the blue and black contrasting sharply with his red hair.

Her stomach fluttered the slightest as he walked with them. In the Academy, she had the hugest crush on him. But she could never bring herself to say it. It was better to preserve their friendship rather than risk it by saying that she was in love with those pointy ears.

“That,” he replied with a haughty eyebrow, “is unlikely. I estimate I have improved by 230.6% since we last saw each other. The human phrase would be ‘you are going down’.”

She laughed and grinned widely. “Let’s get Zard, and we’ll see about that.”

Zard was a Saurian: a bipedaled, but fierce looking, humanoid with sharp teeth, an almost nonexistent nose with slit nostrils, large snake-like eyes, and a pointed head. He had claws on his hands and feet and was much stronger than he looked. But Zard was an intellectual as well as a Security ensign. His room was decorated with well-loved padds and even some old books with real paper on a variety of subjects.

Currently, he sat reading Mark Twain. His pebbly skin was black with red spots that surrounded his eyes and went back into his bald head. He was the shyest of their group, but loyal to the end. This, coupled with his natural physical strength, was part of what made him such a good security officer.

So when his door chimed, he immediately rose to his six and a half foot height and answered it. “Sssam! How did you get here? Sso good to ssee you again!” he said, hissing with laughter. “Are the Fabuloussss Five back in businessss?”

“I transferred,” Sam replied. “Nice too see you too, you big dinosaur.”

“Yes, I believe we are,” Phelix said happily. “One more to go, and then we’re all getting drinks.”

Zard put his book down and chuckled, a dry rasp. “Lead the way, oh wisssse Lieutenant!”

Sh’gesh Anthia, a female Andorian, threw another punch and swore. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail that flapped with her violent motions. “Stupid…” POW! “Ignorant…” POW! “Assholes!” POW!

Anthia had stripped out of her regular yellow engineering uniform and into a loose shirt and shorts for this exercise. It was either start beating the stuffing out of a dummy, or start beating the stuffing out of her boss. The Bolian Chief Engineer Rheman always had something to criticize! Always! Never good enough, never fast enough, never smart enough… I’m doing the best I freezing can and it’s never enough!

POW!

Then, she froze. Was that her door?

Yep, there it was again, the chime. She relaxed and trotted to it. Who could that be…?

The door slid open to reveal two grinning faces and a solemn one that nonetheless looked happy. “Sam!” Anthia screamed. “Ohmigod how did you get here?” And she embraced her old friend enthusiastically.

“Can’t…. breathe… Gerroff,” Sam squeaked. When Anthia relaxed, she smiled. “I was transferred. Just got here. We’re all going to go get drinks-”

“Waitwaitwait, lemme shower and change, I wanna see you take down Tolek a peg, he’s gotten too damn smug without you around,” Anthia said, darting back inside. “Don’t leave! Ten seconds tops!”

The door closed. Phelix chuckled. Sam grinned. “Enthusiastic as ever, I see,” she said to the door.

“Her emotional outbursts have increased recently. Her chess is poor. Perhaps you could help her,” Tolek said. Sam could easily see her friend’s concern for the Andorian, despite how they annoyed each other. She knew Tolek –knew them all, really- like the back of her hand.

And they knew her like only the best friends could.

The door opened and Anthia emerged from the fastest sonic shower in history, fully clothed in her uniform. “Come on, come on, have you tried the Cardassian Sunrises here? They’re pretty good…” she said, chattering away. The five of them settled into an easy rhythm as if they had never parted, and as they walked down the hall to the lounge, Sam couldn’t stop smiling.

This was going to be great.

=/\=

It was the start of her second week aboard the Avalon, and Samantha rose whistling. She had sparring today with Lt. Commander Gron, which meant she was getting her ass kicked, but she had managed to get in a few decent blows last time and she felt she was beginning to get his measure. He was tough, but fair, and though he gave no quarter he didn’t see lack of experience as lack of ability. Yesterday he had even said something about her ‘not being totally inept’, which she took as a compliment and a good sign.

They had received a new assignment in the Vega sector, and had been in warp for the part thirty two hours. They were due to come out of it any time now…

And when her shift was over, she was going to go hang with her friends, like she had every day since she got on board. She had beaten Tolek again, but he was better, and she needed to stay in practice if she wanted to keep her winning streak.

She showered, and pulled on her uniform when she felt it: that slight hesitation and the reduced thrum of the engines that signaled that the Avalon was dropping out of warp. Right on time, she thought cheerfully.

But, just as she was affixing the pin to her chest, klaxons rang out. Her head snapped up. What? What was going on?

“This is the Captain Speaking. All hands, report to battlestations. Red alert. This is not a drill.”

“Oh, shit,” she muttered. That could not be good….

She yanked on her boots and was out the door within seconds, running down the halls. She tapped her badge. “Lt. Brown to Lt. Commander Gron. Where do I go?” she asked simply. She hadn’t been assigned anywhere specific yet…

“Gron to Brown. Report to deck- no. The bridge. Move.” The customary growl she had gotten used to was even fiercer right now, and she felt her adrenaline spike.

“Acknowledged, Brown out,” she said, taking a sharp right and punching the turbolift button. The doors shooshed open for her.

“Bridge!” But why? Why the bridge? That wasn’t the usual station for a Lieutenant, especially a new one.

No time to question it. Just follow orders, Gron knows what he is doing, she reassured herself as the turbo rose smoothly and swiftly to the top deck of the Avalon.

The door opened again, and she stopped dead in her tracks. She couldn’t suppress the sharp intake of breath at the scene on the view screen.

Oh my God…

Borg Cubes glowed green against the starscape of space, as pieces of debris –Federation starship debris- floated like driftwood. She could see other ships gallantly fighting back, and the klaxon now mingled with the crisp reports of officers at their stations and the distress calls of disabled ships.

“-Khitomer requesting assistance-”

“-More Borg cubes warping in-”

“-Dauntless has been destroyed, sir, took a cube with them-”

“-Jamming our signals, we can’t get through to Starfleet-”

The Borg… But how? They were defeated! Her knees felt weak for a moment as fear seized her by the throat.

Gron whipped around, hearing her gasp, and spotted her. The massive Klingon motioned her over; she saw Zard standing next to him and blinked, but she went. “Sir?”

The Captain turned around from a console when he heard her voice. “Lt. Brown, good, you’re here. I’m not sure what has happened here, but obviously Vega Colony is being attacked… by the Borg.”

The words fell like a rock in a still pond.

“We need to tell Starfleet that the Borg are back, but they are jamming all our signals. What I want the away team to do is go over to the Khitomer, render what assistance you can and signal Starfleet from there; they have more advanced communications array, being a deep space ship, and they might be able to cut through the jamming signal. Play the distress call,” he ordered. The carnage on the view screen was replaced with an EMH that flickered in and out of life. Chaos besieged the room behind him.

“This is the Emergency Medical Hologram aboard the USS Khitomer. I am requesting assistance from any Federation vessel in range. Borg boarding parties are overwhelming the Khitomer. These Borg are different from the ones in my history records. They seem… disconnected, somehow. But they are strong and still quite dangerous. I have lost contact with the bridge and main Engineering is under assault. I am unable to contact Commander Davis for new instructions. I don’t know how much longer we can hold the ship. You must send help immediately!” the hologram said- and then started over. It was a loop message, which might mean that the situation was already lost…

“Lt. Brown, you are to go with Lt. Commander Gron and Ensign Zard. Also take a medical officer with you, if we can spare any,” the captain said.

“Sir?” she hazarded. “Ensign Phelix was at the Andromeda Crisis. He has experience in battlefield medicine.”

Gron looked at her. For a moment she thought she had overstepped her bounds, but then he gave her a savage smile. “Gron to Ensign Phelix.”

“Phelix here,” came her friend’s voice.

“Report to the bridge.”

“On my way.”

“Actually, on second thought, get an engineering officer too. The readings we’re getting might indicate some warp core trouble.” The captain paused. “What’s that Andorian girl, the one who got in trouble last week? Didn’t she specialize in Warp Core Theory and Mechanics?”

“Sh’gesh Anthia,” Sam supplied. “Yes, she did.”

Gron nodded and tapped his badge again.

Captain Qat’Anmek cracked a tired smile. “Any other ideas, Lt. Brown?”

Was he being serious? She couldn’t tell, so she answered anyway. “….Well, Ensign Tolek is- The Borg fascinate him, sir. He’s sort of made them his hobby, and by hobby I mean he’s practically a database of information about them.” I bet he never expected his little interest to ever be relevant again on a starship. Damn the Borg!

He laughed. “Get him too, then, and nice suggestion, Lt. Brown. Lt. Commander Gron, do try to hurry. We’ll keep the Borg off you while you’re down there, but time is definitely of the essence.”

She wondered briefly how their little ship was going to keep the Borg occupied long enough for the Khitomer to be taken back. She met his gaze questioningly, and he smiled at her.

A shiver went up her spine at that little sad smile, and she remembered one of the things her Command teacher, a Vulcan, had said.

The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few- or the one.

She decided she didn’t want to know, and looked away, her eyes burning. The Captain mutely put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, before turning back to the console and trying to raise Starfleet once more.

Phelix, Anthia, Tolek, and two other security team members arrived on the turbo not ten seconds later. They hoofed it to the transporter room, Gron leading the way, Zard and her following shortly. They stepped onto the pad, and everyone checked themselves one final time before beaming down. Tolek had those quick, jerky movements he got when he was excited- or perhaps the redhead was scared. Phelix was not smiling anymore, and had a satchel of medical equipment with him. Anthia had her tricorder tucked neatly into her tool belt; she had come prepared for whatever engineering disaster had befallen the ship. Zard held his phaser steady, like her, but his toeclaws tapped the deck impatiently.

She caught their eyes. They were as worried as she was. Sam smiled reassuringly. It said, Come on, guys, we can do this, no worries. We’ve got Gron and the other security guys. You all know your stuff. Do the best you can and we’ll be ok.

And she was pleased to see them relax a little because of it.

Gron tapped his badge. “Energize,” he growled, and the Avalon faded out of existence.

=/\=

They materialized in what looked like a cargo bay converted to an impromptu medical center. Injured crewmen lay moaning on crates, and a forcefield kept out the Borg not thirty feet from them. The EMH looked up from a patient. He was a Mark Seven model, with a square jaw, silver-white hair and indeterminate age.

“At last! I’m an EMH, not a miracle worker! Help me with these patients. Much of the Khitomer crew is injured… And nobody here has anything remotely resembling medical training-”

Phelix stepped forward and took out his medical tricorder. “Ensign Phelix, JMO,” he said by way of introduction. “What do you need me to do?”

“Go over there and scan that patient. I need to see what we’re up against here. The data will upload to me automatically. There are advantages to being a hologram. As for the rest of you… Lt. Thelis is working on restoring the computers in Aux Control. Perhaps you could go help,” he said. Gron bristled slightly at the high-handed manner of the EMH but kept his temper.

“We will assist him,” he growled. “Ensign Phelix, stay here.” Phelix nodded absently, already focused on his patient. Sam knew from experience that an earthquake could hit and her friend wouldn’t notice. He’d be fine. Tolek and Zard shared that glance with her. It was nice to know some things didn’t change, whatever the crisis. Anthia was already moving ahead.

“We appreciate it, thank you- ah, interesting readings. Ensign Phelix, do you have a thrombic modulator?”

Gron turned his back on the EMH and checked his plasma rifle. Then, silently, he moved out into the hallway. The security personnel, Sam and Zard included, arrayed themselves in the standard formation. Tolek and Anthia had their phasers out as well. It was a short, scary run to AuxCon. They passed two forcefields someone had cleverly erected to keep out the Borg, but they flickered dangerously. It was not encouraging. The Borg on the other side watched them with organic and technologic eyes.

They reached AuxCon. An Andorian was tapping furiously at a console. A forcefield to his right sealed off the room from the impending Borg, who had already assimilated much of the ship beyond it. Anthia looked at them, wide-eyed.

“Reinforcements! Good! I can’t deal with the Borg and keep this boat together,” Thelis said without preamble. “Those forcefields won’t hold for long. We’re losing power fast. Suggestions?”

Everyone paused for the briefest of seconds. Then, Tolek spoke. “Is there a vacuum nearby?”

Sam grinned; she could tell what he was planning. They had used it once in a tactical sim. “We can store their patterns in the transporter buffer-”

“And then beam them out and let them assimilate space for a while,” snarled Gron. “Yes.”

“Use that console over there,” Thelis said, gesturing. “Then use the one out in the hall to space the bastards.”

Anthia grinned wickedly. “Yes sir!”

Working together, they were able to modulate the transporter frequency to where they could beam out the Borg. Facing their enemy with just a shimmering field of energy between them and the cybernetic monsters was a little harrowing, to say the least, but they succeeded. Then they moved as one into the hall. Anthia took the console, as the engineer in residence, and began tapping keys.

“Hehehe, eat space dust, bitches,” she said, as the Borg they had dematerialized reappeared behind the forcefield. The vacuum, kept at bay by the shimmering wall, sucked them out into space. Thelis whooped out loud.

“That should hold them for a while. Commander Davis in Engineering needs some help, and I can’t leave these computers. Let me patch him through real fast…” Thelis said, tapping keys. A commanding voice spoke through Gron’s commbadge.

“This is Commander Davis.”

“Lt. Commander Gron, Security Chief,” Gron growled.

“Fantastic. Maybe you can help. Our weapons and shields are down, and life support is running on emergency power. But that’s not the real problem. There are some sort of Borg devices a deck below you that are blocking our communications abilities. If you can get rid of them I can hail Starfleet Command,” he finished.

“Yes sir,” Gron growled. “They will be destroyed.”

“Good. Be careful. Davis out.”

Thelis spoke up. “The turbolift is through the door behind me. Good luck.”

Sam, Zard, Anthia, Tolek, Gron, and the other two security officers all nodded and made for the lift. Fire crackled in the halls and sparks flew from busted panels. Anthia eyes the turbo skeptically.

“Falling to our deaths would really suck,” she muttered to herself. Zard gave her a shy smile.

“It could be worssse. We could have to ussse the tubesss,” he pointed out.

“Statistically, the Borg are a much greater threat,” Tolek said. “We could be wise to concern ourselves with them.”

Anthia rolled her eyes and punched her friends none too gently in the arm. “Thanks,” she said, sarcastically.

“Guys,” Sam snapped sharply. Now was really not the time.

Gron growled softly, and it was more than enough to enforce silence.

The door opened, and they moved out into the hall. Fire blazed in the corner. Gron moved cautiously and peeked through the doorway of the next hall.

Glowing green cylindrical devices, covered in Borg markings, were attached to the walls in the hall and the two large rooms connecting to it. Borg moved robotically around and pressed buttons.

Sam tightened her grip on her phaser. Gron looked back at the away team and raised three fingers.

3…

2…

1…

And they opened fire.

Gron’s plasma rifle took out three Borg in quick succession. They did seem to be faulty in some way; one was just walking up against a wall over and over, one just stood there, and two milled around aimlessly. But several did break off what they were doing and began a slow, zombie-like walk to the away team.

Sam fired and again, using her excellent aim to hit vulnerable skin. Tolek aimed for the devices. Anthia spoke. “Stand back.”

Gron looked at her, then down at the photon grenade she was holding, and smiled. He nodded and ducked behind the doorway. “We will advance when it goes off. Get the devices- and kill as many Borg as possible. Don’t let them touch you or get within arm’s reach,” he warned. If he had his way, nobody was getting assimilated today.

Everyone nodded. Anthia pressed the button and lobbed the grenade into the hall.

The world exploded, and the away team moved in fast, hitting the two separate rooms; they left the hallway thoroughly trashed. Borg honed in on them. Sam and Gron took the right room, while the other two security guards, Tolek, Zard, and Anthia took the left, which was larger. They waded into the opposing Borg.

Sam slipped into her fight mode. It was an odd thing she had discovered at the Academy: a state of clear-headedness, where she could think and analyze dispassionately. Gron was howling Klingon curses, but Sam was silent as the grave, coolly eliminating Borg that she came across.

She turned to fire at a Borg advancing behind her, knocking it down and then shooting its head, sending mechanical bits and pieces –and brains- everywhere. When she turned back, her eyes widened.

Gron was a whirlwind of death. Four Borg had adapted to his plasma shots and were attempting to subdue him, but he was using his plasma rifle like a baseball bat and beating the holy living hell out of anything that got in arm’s reach. She had never seen an angry Klingon before, and her respect for Gron rose as he screamed a warrior’s cry.

He didn’t see the Borg advancing behind him. Sam gasped, and opened her mouth to shout a warning-

As assimilation tubules shot from the drone and plunged deep into the Klingon’s neck. He gave a gurgling cry and fell to the durasteel deck.

“Omigod-!”

She opened fire furiously with her phaser, and because they hadn’t adapted to it, just the rifle, they died quickly. She kicked them out of the way and knelt by the fallen Klingon warrior.

His brown face was writhing, literally, and as she watched in horror his veins turned silver, his skin pasty. Metal blossomed on his gruff visage, skin moved and rippled as underneath the nanoprobes began their gruesome work. He jerked on the floor in pain she could only imagine.

“Lt. Commander…”

His eyes fixed on her, and she saw a violation of not just body, but spirit and mind. No one deserves this, she thought, horrified. A hand, still untainted, grabbed her arm in a crushing vice of a grip. His eyes bored into hers.

“Today is…. a good day… to die,” he choked out.

She realized what he wanted. Tears prickled at Sam’s eyes.

“Howl… for me,” he said, coughing blood.

“I will,” she said, vision blurry. Wiping her eyes on her sleeve, she picked up the plasma rifle and stood. She leveled the barrel at the brave Klingon.

Her hands shook as she held the gun, too large for her. She closed her eyes.

BLAM!

Then, she tilted her head to the sky and screamed.

The Klingon death cry was a tradition. For someone who had chosen what he believed was right over his own people, it was the least she could do. It was also a vow of vengeance, if she could give it.

Detached, she smashed every remaining Borg device in the room. Tolek, Anthia, Zard, and their team, minus one security guard, came in moments after she had finished. Zard sported a bleeding scratch that marred his uniform.

Anthia saw Gron first. Her face fell. “Oh, no… Not Lt. Commander Gron too…”

Tolek looked at Sam. She did not look ok. “Samantha?”

“I’ll be fine. I- I think I’m in charge now. Next highest rank,” she said, by way of explanation. “I, uh, better report to Commander Davis.” She wiped her eyes one final time and slung the rifle over her shoulder.

Anthia shared a worried look with Zard. “Lead on, then, Sam. We’re right behind you.”

“Wait for me!” Phelix trotted up, huffing. “I’m done helping the EMH. The crew is stable. I followed the bodies to get here- oh dear.”

“Lt. Commander Gron is dead,” Tolek informed him. “Lt. Brown is now leading the away team.”

Sam nodded to her friend distantly and tapped her badge. “Lt. Brown to Commander Davis. We destroyed the devices but- Lt. Commander Gron was- was killed.”

“God damn. I’m sorry for your loss, Lt. Brown. Unfortunately, we’ve got bigger problems right now; you’ll have to wait to mourn him. The Borg are making a final push to get to Main Engineering. We need some backup. Get over here asap. Communications and sensors are back online, and I will start hailing Starfleet right now. The Borg won’t get the jump on us twice,” his voice vowed.

“Acknowledged. Lt. Brown out.” Sam took a deep breath and turned to her remaining team: Tolek, Anthia, Phelix, Zard, and the remaining security guard. “Let’s go.”

She stepped out into the hall, fighting the urge to cry, stuffing her grief and her shock and her fear into a little bitty box at the back of her mind. She could not afford a mental break right now. She could do it when she got back to the ship. Commander Davis needed their help, so she would do that and then she’d be free to freak out if she wanted to. They located the turbo without any problems and took it down to Deck Three-

Which was overrun by Borg. The doors of the lift opened, and a hallway full of them turned and looked at the away team.

“Shit!” Anthia swore, and tossed a grenade. Everyone opened fire. It took them another six minutes of furious fighting, but when they exited the turbo they did so over the bodies of the Borg. Sam took what vicious little satisfaction she could from that fact.

They ran through the halls, her tricorder telling her the right way to go. Along the way they acquired more little cuts and bruises. Toren was bleeding sluggishly from a slash on his head, green blood dripping onto his formerly immaculate uniform, and Anthia was limping a little from a Borg’s lucky shot. Zard had managed to avoid further injury, and he was helping Anthia along, though she was grumbling about it. Phelix was hurriedly tending their wounds, dermal regenerator in one hand, phaser in the other.

Finally they could see the entrance to Main Engineering, where two security personnel had taken some boxes and stacked them to form cover. They were firing on the Borg there. Sam unslung her rifle from her back and took a bead on the first Borg.

BLAM!

It exploded and dropped limply to the floor. “Run for it, guys,” she snapped, and they made the maddest dash of their life for cover, Zard practically carrying Anthia.

The other security guard with them tripped and fell behind. Sam screeched to a stop and turned to help him-

A Borg beat her to it, and sliced into the unlucky ensign’s back with a rotating, serrated, sawlike blade. Blood spattered her face.

Shit…!!

It killed her, but she turned and left him, screaming and beyond help. She ran into the engine room and down the ramp. She could see Commander Davis in red at a console and a slew of engineers holding off the Borg not twenty feet from him.

“Commander Davis!” she yelled, slowing. Zard, Anthia, Tolek and Phelix came to a stop behind her, panting.

“Lt. Brown, I assume, good to finally meet you. I’ve succeeded in hailing Starfleet, but the warp core is overloading.” Anthia gasped. “I can stabilize it, but not if I’m being assimilated.”

“We’ll hold them off, sir.” Sam promised, hoping it wasn’t another one she couldn’t keep. “Anthia is an engineer specializing in warp cores, do you-?”

“For God’s sake yes please, more help the better. See if you can bypass the subtronic relays,” he said, and Anthia went to work besides him. The other four took up positions with the rest of the engineers.

Her memory seemed to blur. She shot and shot and shot but they adapted and just kept coming. Grenades helped with the efforts, but she was eventually reduced to fighting drones hand-to-hand. Zard excelled at this; his natural strength enabled him to literally rip the Borg limb from limb. She used Gron’s strategy and smashed vulnerable parts with her phaser rifle.

Then suddenly there weren’t any more to smash. She looked around, dizzy for a moment, before she realized it was over. The warp core that formerly glowed a sullen, angry red was now a cheerful bright blue.

She turned. Anthia punched the air, grinning like a maniac. Phelix looked as tired as she felt, and Toren gave her a sage nod. Zard smiled a toothy grin.

“We did it, Ssssam. Ssssstarfleet knowssss the Borg are back and the Khitomer isss sssaved,” he said quietly.

Commander Davis approached her. She looked up. “Yes, sir?”

“We need to get you back to your ship,” he said. “While we were fighting the Borg down here, they were fighting them up there, and I think they’ve been hit pretty hard. Use our transporter room; we’ll beam you to the bridge,” he said. To her surprise, he smiled, and held out his hand. She looked at it as if it was a foreign object.

“Lt. Brown, we’d all be dead if it weren’t for you and your team. Starfleet is very lucky to have you- all of you.”

She took his hand. “Thank you, sir. But you should be thanking Lt. Commander Gron.” The accolade felt hollow.

“I will at his memorial service,” he stated.

She nodded mutely and looked at her team.

“Come on, guys,” she said simply. “Let’s go home.”

They walked to the transporter room and arranged themselves on the transporter pad. Sam spoke, tired. “Energize.”

The Khitomer faded away.

=/\=

The bridge of the Avalon took its place- but it was not as she remembered it. In the hour or so they had been gone, the Borg had apparently wreaked hell on the valiant ship. Consoles smoked, sirens wailed, and she almost stepped on the lifeless body of Captain Qat’Anmek. He, and every other officer on the bridge, lay dead, as did the Borg who had supposedly killed them.

“Oh, dear,” Zard said. “Thisss issssn’t good…”

“….Shit.” Everyone stared at Toren. He arched an eyebrow. “This would seem to be the occasion for colorful metaphors.”

Sam’s heart fell through the deck. Oh God…. “Damn it!! Who’s in charge now? Computer, locate highest ranking officer on the USS Avalon,” Sam said. They needed to find out who was in charge here, and get these bodies off the bridge.

“Highest ranking officer on the USS Avalon is Lt. Samantha Brown.”

She froze.

What?

No. No. That’s- That’s insane. “Computer, locate Commander Gordon.”

“Commander Gordon is dead.”

“Locate Lt. Commander Selkar.”

“Lt. Commander Selkar is dead.”

“Locate highest ranking living officer on the USS Avalon,” she said again, with a touch of desperation.

“Lt. Samantha Brown is the highest ranking living officer on the USS Avalon.”

The world seemed to careen out from under her. Sam staggered, but Tolek caught her by the arm. She looked at him. “Tolek! I cannot command a starship! I’ve- I’m a lieutenant-”

“Samantha.” His eyes met hers. “Shut up.”

She did.

“I believe I speak for everyone when I say that of those officers remaining, I would choose you to command a starship over anyone else. You display a natural talent for leadership and an instinctual grasp of the intricacies of both war and diplomacy.” He shook her a little by the shoulders. “Whether you want this or not, it is your responsibility. You can do this.”

Anthia stepped up. “What he said. Stop being a wimp and get on with it, girl,” she said.

Phelix smiled at her. “We’re with you, 100%.”

Zard put a clawed hand on his heart. “You are my clutch-ssssisster. I have faith in you, Ssssam. Don’t worry. You’ll do fine.”

Tolek released her and stepped back. “Your orders, Captain?”

But what if I screw up? What if I don’t have what it takes? What if- What if-

…No. She looked at her friends and was struck by how incredibly lucky she was to have them. She took a breath, let it out, and closed her eyes briefly.

Somewhere inside her, a switch flipped. At another time, in another starship, she might have had enough time to adjust herself to the idea of command. As it was, once Sam put her mind to something, she did it with all her heart, and captaincy was no different. Fears and insecurities and worries be damned. Someone has to do this. I suppose it may as well be me.

Then she straightened and looked her friends in the eye. “Computer, are Chief Engineer Rheman and Doctor Keval alive?”

“Negative.”

“Didn’t think so. Ok, fine then. Misery loves company. Computer, please make a note in the logs: as of this moment, I, Lt. Samantha Brown, am taking command of this ship. I am giving a field commission of Commander and Science Officer to Ensign Tolek, a field commission of Lt. Commander and Chief Engineer to Ensign Anthia, a field commission of Lt. Commander and Chief of Security to Ensign Zard, and a field commission of Lt. Commander and Chief Medical Officer to Ensign Phelix.” She savored the look of pure shock on her friend’s faces for a moment before she went to a console and moved the dead body there out of the way gently. “Display crew members still alive.”

A list appeared in front of her. “Ok, Commander, take the science station. Lt. Commander Anthia, take the helm and reroute engineering status and functions to it. I need you up here, find someone you trust to be down there and work with them to get us going again. Lt. Commander Zard, weapons and shields would be wonderful, do what you can. Lt. Commander Phelix, I suspect Sickbay is going to be full up. You might want to get started,” she said as she scanned the list. She was a little surprised at herself, giving all these orders suddenly. Where was this coming from? No time to worry about that now. Gotta reestablish a chain of command, that’s the first thing, right? I think so… “Get me all the surviving chief petty officers you can find, put them in charge of their respective divisions, if any ensigns give you crap about it tell them I said so and if they want to argue they can- can do it in the brig,” she said. “We’re going to need some experience around here. Find me an ops and a comm officer as well please, preferably a MCPO.”

Tolek nodded and gave her a twitch of the lips. “Better, Captain. Much better. I will get them.” He rose and went to the turbo.

She gave him a dark, crooked smile. “Computer, damage report.”

“Weapons offline. Shields offline. Life-support online. Impulse is offline. Warp core offline-”

She listened for five minutes as the computer droned on about the crippled ship. Then she was aware of the turbo behind her opening. She looked. Two MCPOs entered. She remembered them vaguely. “Mr. Kingsley, Ms. Garr, welcome to the bridge. I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but I think the Borg targeted the command officers deliberately. I’m the highest ranking officer left alive.”

Kingsley was an older man, early forties. He had a stern face with a strong jaw and black hair with blue eyes, cut short in a practical buzz cut. Garr was younger, perhaps midthirties, a tall, elegant human woman with hazel eyes and brown hair in a bun.

They both stared at her in shock and trepidation. Thank you for that overwhelming support, she thought, wryly. Not like she could blame them though…

Kingsley spoke. “Uh, ma’am, what exactly were you? Before this, I mean.”

“A lieutenant,” she answered crisply, and chose to ignore the growing look of horror on his face. “I’ve made promotions to fill the gaps on the bridge, but I need ops and the comm, and as I understand it you are the MCPOs of those respective areas. Take your seats, please. Thank you. And- I- oh hell, I’m going to need all the help I can get. If you think of something, please say so,” she said with brutal honesty.

Garr spoke, sitting. “Yes ma’am.”

She nodded to them gratefully. “Thank you.”

There. That fills the bridge. Now… I guess I need to make an address or something. Right?

“Um. Comm, please open a channel to the ship.”

“Open, ma’am.”

“This is Acting Captain Samantha Brown. Um… Good news is, we’re alive. Bad news is we’re almost dead in the water and defenseless- take that back,” she said, as she felt the ship thrum to life under her. “We’ve got impulse. Nicely done, Engineering. I realize I am not Captain Qat’Anmek, but I need for everyone to pull together if we’re going to get out of here alive. Starfleet Command has been notified of the Borg presence in this sector, so it is possible that we will be getting reinforcements. However, we can’t count on that. This is a tough little ship with a tough little crew. The Borg haven’t been able to assimilate us yet and I’ll be damned if we’re going to let them now. So… let’s get to it, everyone. Captain out.”

She winced at herself. Not much of an inspiring speech… She was sure Captain Qat’Anmek would have had something cooler to say.

It’ll have to do.

She looked around. Everyone was busy with something at their station. She looked at the captain’s chair with its armrest controls. Gingerly, she sat in it. It seemed much too big for her.

Anthia, Zard and Tolek on the bridge watched her from the corner of their eyes. Tolek approved of her word choice. Now was not the time for grandiose speeches. Her quick and dirty, let’s-give-them-hell type version was better suited for the situation.

“Captain,” Garr said. “We’re being hailed by the USS Seacole.”

She stood again, tugging on her uniform automatically. “Onscreen.”

An older African-American woman with silver hair appeared. “USS Avalon, this is Captain Alcott of the Seacole. Good to see you still have engines- Where is Captain Qat’Anmek?” The woman asked.

“He was killed when the Borg boarded the Avalon. I am Acting Captain Samantha Brown. What can we do for you?” she asked politely.

The woman’s eyebrows shot up and then went back down. Sam was mildly annoyed –was everyone going to do that?- but kept her face pleasant. Now was not the time. “We are conducting search and rescue operations here and we could use some help.”

Sam swallowed and nodded. “We’d be happy to assist, Captain Alcott. What do we need to do?”

“We’re getting lifesigns from four other ships, the Kelvin, the Outland, the Bohr, and the Montreal, but our transporters are down from the battle. Our shuttles are doing what they can-”

“But we have a larger transporter capacity. We gotcha, Seacole. Nobody else is going to die today because of the Borg,” she said, quiet but determined.

“And when you’re done, please bring them to us. We’re behind that large asteroid,” Captain Alcott finished.

“Will do, Captain. Avalon out.” She looked at her crew. “Set a course for- Yes, Mr. Kingsley?”

“Captain, shouldn’t we finish getting ourselves repaired first before we go haring off to rescue these other ships?” Kingsley asked bluntly. “We’re not in peak condition, y’know.”

She processed this. “….I am aware of that. But, like I said, nobody else is going to die today. Lt. Commander Anthia, set a course for the nearest ship. Mr. Kingsley, thank you for your contribution,” she added, genuinely glad he had spoken. He seemed a little taken aback by that.

Anthia shot her a grin. “Setting a course, aye, ma’am.”

It took them four hours to rescue the four ships. In that time, the angels down in Engineering and Anthia had managed to get shields partially back up; though the cubes that had attacked the Avalon lay in pieces, there was no point in taking chances. She worried about reinforcements. The Captains and crews were rather surprised to be rescued by a battered Lieutenant commanding an equally battered starship, but only one had the gall to say so to her face. The Commander of the Bohr had made some smartass comment about it, and she was pleased to say she did not retaliate in kind, just dropped them off unceremoniously. What was a little surprising to the crew of the Avalon was that Samantha Brown was doing well.

Better than well, in fact. She was going great.

They had gone from dead in the water to limping along with all systems operational (to one degree or another) in a mere four hours. She left the bridge several times to assist with efforts and give the crew moral support, assuring them that they were going to be fine, complimenting those who deserved it, and cajoling, threatening, guilting, teasing, and otherwise coercing those sitting on their asses to get up and help.

Sam stepped onto the bridge after dropping off the last of the rescues. She flopped into the center chair. She was tired, covered ash, dust, and blood. Her uniform was wrinkled and probably stunk to high heaven. Worse, the replicators were offline, so she couldn’t even get a cup of coffee.

“Status, Ms. Garr?”

“The last of them have disembarked, Captain.”

“Finally. Good. Do we have warp yet?”

“….No ma’am,” Anthia said apologetically. “We’re working on it.”

“Ok, keep on it. Thanks.” She rubbed at her gritty eyes, and looked up as the turbolift opened. Phelix entered the bridge.

“Doctor, how are we?”

“Well, all things considered. But that’s not why I’m here. I need to patch you and the other bridge officers up,” Phelix said sternly. “It’s been four hours-”

“I’ve been a little busy, Phelix-”

“I don’t care, you should have come and seen me long ago,” he scolded. She rolled her eyes.

“Fine, just hurry. I’ve got to-”

“Sit still, that’s what you’ve got to do,” he said, cutting her off. Someone snickered. She glared around the room as Phelix pulled out a dermal regenerator.

“Traitors, all of you. Ow!”

“Don’t be such a wuss. Think of the example you have to set. There. Tolek, you’re next,” he said, moving on. When he was done with the whole bridge, he nodded. “Better. Also, here, take this.” He pressed a hypo against her arm. She examined the spot where he pressed it.

“What was that?”

“A stimulant. Somehow I don’t think you’re going to get a break anytime soon,” he said, sympathetically. “Permission to stay on the bridge? Sickbay is well under control.”

“Permission granted,” she said. “You can sit over there.”

“Captain, we’re being hailed by the USS Renown,” Tolek reported.

What now? “Onscreen. We live to serve, after all,” she said dryly. The bridge chuckled, which she hadn’t intended, but it lightened the mood and she rolled with it.

A Vulcan in command reds appeared on the screen. He arched an eyebrow. “I am Captain So’Lok. I take it I am speaking to the surviving officer in charge?”

“Yes, sir. I’m acting Captain Samantha Brown, USS Avalon.”

“Indeed. I will get to the point then. The Borg are on the move,” Oh, goddammitall… “and the structural damage to the warp engines of the Renown had put us out of action. However, we have sufficient personnel and supplies to repair the Avalon, so that you may continue the fight.” A pause. “This is the only logical course of action.”

She blinked. “That is very generous of you, Captain So’Lok. We accept. Thank you.”

“I am sending you our coordinates. My engineering team will be ready upon your arrival. So’Lok out.”

“Well, that was nice of him, and exactly what we need. Awesome. Set course for the Renown, please.”

The Renown looked good for the battle it had endured- except its warp nacelles were missing, blown off completely. Out of action indeed, Sam thought, standing in the transporter room with Anthia, waiting for them to beam down. Tolek and Zard had the bridge while she was here.

Light blazed, and resolved into a team of people and one tall Vulcan. They stepped off the platform. “Captain So’Lok. Welcome to the Avalon,” she said, giving him the Vulcan salute.

So’Lok studied the unlikely captain and the Andorian with her. It was logical to conclude they had sustained heavy casualties, if a lieutenant was the highest ranking officer aboard. As such, he expected to find a ship in a state of disarray and chaos. This was part of the reason he had come aboard: to restore order if necessary.

What he did find was something very different. As she led them to Engineering, and introduced the Andorian besides her as her Chief Engineer, he saw everyone working toward a common purpose. People used the buddy system to keep each other’s spirits up. It was ordered, which was incredible considering the youth and relative inexperience of the Captain. He looked at her with new eyes.

She looked tired, face lined. Her uniform was very dirty; she hadn’t found the time to change. His nose detected blood on her . She was rather unassuming… But there was something about her that was inspiring her newfound crew.

Interesting.

They arrived at Engineering, and she stopped, watching Anthia take control of the situation and the two engineering teams begin their work.

“Captain, can I ask a favor of you?” she said suddenly.

“Logically, that would depend on the favor,” he answered. She looked up at him.

“Can we use your replicators to get some real food? Ours are shot, and even if they weren’t I’d need to reroute that power to the engines or the shields or some other more vital system. But I think the crew would be really happy to get some food that doesn’t come in a little silver package. I know I would almost kill for a cup of coffee,” she added a little wistfully. “I realize you’ve already done a lot for us, and if you can’t, we accept that…. But it’d be a huge moral-booster-…. What?” She asked. He was staring at her, studying her with that inscrutable Vulcan gaze. Has she said something offensive?

“Captain Brown, you are an intriguing individual. I will be interested to see where your career in Starfleet goes from here,” he said. “I would be pleased to assist you.”

She smiled at him, a bright flash of white teeth in a haggard face. “I think I speak for everyone when I say thank you very much, Captain So’Lok. And, if I may, what does that mean? ‘Intriguing individual’?” she asked curiously.

“That you have managed to motivate your crew, who is suffering the grievous loss of most of their commanding officers, in the way you have is exceptional. That you have done so as a former Lieutenant… It is logical to conclude that you have the singular rare talent for command.”

She looked at him, surprised. It wasn’t the first time someone had said that. Maybe it was true, and she had just never realized it…

“Um. Thank you, sir. I- People have said something similar once or twice before. I just- never thought of it as anything special. I’m just doing my job as a Starfleet officer. I keep think of what Captain Qat’Anmek would do…”

“You are doing well. I would be pleased to hear from you again, Captain Brown. Contact me when you are finished with the crisis here at Vega.” He nodded at her, and the barest ghost of a smile flitted across his face.

“I will, sir, and thank you again.”

=/\=

[Kheren]

It took two hours for the repairs to be completed, and she called a universal half hour break to eat and rest. But when they were all finished, the Avalon was back in business and so was her crew. So’Lok had just beamed his people back aboard when he hailed her again.

“The repairs to your ship are complete, Captain. My sensors have detected several damaged Borg ships nearby. I would suggest that this is an opportune location to test the modifications,” he said.

She grinned wickedly. “I think I agree, Captain So’Lok. If you’ll excuse us…”

“Of course. I will send you the coordinates. Good hunting, Avalon. Renown out.” Sam chuckled. For a pacifist race, Vulcans could be downright bloody minded sometimes.

She turned to the bridge, cup of glorious coffee in hand. “Everyone, listen up. Let’s give the Borg back some of what they gave us, whattaya say?”

Anthia cackled. Zard grinned in a decidedly predatory fashion. Garr spoke. “Captain, I have received the coordinates.”

“Set the course, Ms. Anthia.”

“Course set.”

“Engage.”

The stars around them streaked as the ship jumped to warp.

Five minutes later, they dropped out of warp. As realspace coalesced around the ship, Sam spoke. “Onscreen. Readings?”

“Four Borg probes detected. Heavily damaged. We should be able to finish them off without any problems,” he reported.

“Inform me when we get in range. Then execute pattern Gamma-Echo-7.”

“Executing….Now!” Anthia said.

The Avalon arrived on the scene like a bat out of hell. She opened fire with phasers and photons both, hammering the already damaged Borg ships, then corkscrewed out of the way of their return fire. Sam could feel her heart pounding as she watched one ship, then two, explode; Zard’s aim was spot on. Another fired; they turned to face the new enemy and got a torpedo right through the ship’s weak shields. It blazed in a green-orange fireball that rocked the other Borg ship next to it, which followed into oblivion shortly after, courtesy of Tactical’s fine aim.

It took all of ten minutes and the Avalon escaped unscathed from their surprise attack.

“Yeah! All right!” Anthia cheered. “And hey, look at that, we’ve got long range sensors back- oh, crap.”

Sam’s smile fell. “What? What is it?”

“We’re detecting that the Borg ships near Vega are regenerating. If they do-”

“They’ll assimilate the colony. Max warp. Punch it!” Sam barked. Damn! I knew it was too easy!

“Comm, patch me through to the ship.”

“You’re on.”

“Everybody, this is Acting Captain Brown speaking. I hope you enjoyed our test run, because we’ve detected Borg ships regenerating near the Vega colony. Obviously, we can’t let that happen. The ships we just fought were a nice, easy victory because they are already injured. The ones we will face won’t be. Red alert, all hands to battlestations,” she said for the first time. “We arrive there in two hours. Captain out.”

=/\=

The planet Vega was an M class planet, Earth like, glittering greens and blues and whites. Debris littered space, the remains of ships both Federation and Borg. And there, looming in the distance, were four Borg cubes. No probes these; they were the real deal.

Acting Captain Samantha Brown beheld her foes with steady dark eyes. “Lock on weapons,” she said, very quietly. “Tell everyone… we are about to engage the Borg.”

“Messsage sssent, ma’am. Weaponssss locked on,” reported Zard.

“They’re hailing,” Anthia said from her console. Phelix stood and nodded at her.

“I better get to Sickbay, if you don’t mind.”

She barely noticed him go. “Onscreen.”

And then… that many-in-one voice that had struck fear into the hearts of many officers before her echoed on the Bridge. It sent a shiver down her spine.

We are the Borg.

You will be assimilated.

We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own.

Resistance... is futile.

The rebel in Sam unfurled. "Not today, it isn’t,” she snarled. “Weapons fire on my command. Now!”

The Avalon opened salvo and the battle was joined. Orange fire lanced forth and struck the nearest cube. “Direct hit!” Zard said triumphantly.

The deck beneath her shuddered suddenly and rolled. Sam staggered, and Anthia swore. “So was that- shields down ten percent and holding.”

“Returning fire!”

“Mr. Tolek, any advice you can give us as to the weakness of these bastards?” she asked, watching lime and orange lines fence like deadly blades, each seeking the fatal opening.

“Nothing that would be helpful at the moment, Captain- more Borg approaching. One- two- three- four- five- six-”

My god. We’ll never make it. Ten Borg total? We’re screwed! Her heart sank. “Target weapons and warp core, Mr. Zard,” she ordered. “Hit the same spot continuously, hammer them and don’t let up. Transfer all available power to weapons. If we’re going down, they’re coming with us,” she said grimly.

“What about shields?” asked Anthia.

“Don’t need shields if nobody is firing at you.”

“Um, Sam, no offense, but that seems kinda stupid-”

Sam’s head snapped up. “That is an order, Ms. Anthia,” she snapped. Her heart hurt to say it, but she was the acting captain.… Whether she liked it or not. And she did not have time to discuss her decisions with the whole bridge.

Anthia flinched as if Sam had slapped her. What the hell…? “Y-yes, Captain,” she mumbled, face flushing deeper blue.

Then she swore. “Direct hit to starboard nacelle, damn them I just got that working again, propulsion is down but not offline.”

Sam watched her friend turn away from her and knew they would have to have a talk later.

Then, suddenly, the green shield that flickered whenever their phasers struck it fizzled one last time- and went out. Sam shot to her feet. “Photon torpedoes now!!”

“Firing-” Zard said.

The resulting explosion rocked the small ship and blew the Borg cube to hell. Sam smiled wolfishly. The best defense was always a good offense.

“Nice-”

Something hit them from behind, and the ops console exploded. One down, nine more to go. Bastards! I can’t afford to get cocky here, I shouldn’t have rerouted that power…! She would have to apologize to Anthia. “Status?”

“That was a torpedo and it hurt. Shields down to seventy two percent, confirmed casualties decks five and six-”

“Turn and fire!”

The Avalon was struck again. Sam shot a brief prayer to anyone or anything that might be listening. “I said fire, dammit!”

“We can’t. They’ve adapted,” reported Zard. Sam’s heart dropped. No weapons against that many Borg? Her fist clenched at her side as, for a moment, she stared death in the face on her veiwscreen. There had to be another way…

Think, girl, think! You’re the Captain! Come up with the goddamm plan already! Think think think think think….

“….Is the tractor beam operational?”

Tolek checked. “Yes, why?”

A plan crystallized in her head, a crazy, stupid, dangerous plan. She pointed out the view screen. “If I am not mistaken, that is the warp core of the New Orleans. And that is the engine room of the Everest, and that is the antimatter container of the Paulson-”

His eyes widened. “Captain, an explosion of that magnitude-”

“Would eliminate all the Borg, and possibly ourselves, yes. Captain… Captain Qat’Anmek knew that he would most likely not survive his assault, but that attack enabled us to communicate with Starfleet Command. We can’t let them assimilate the colony. Not only would everyone die, but it would give the Borg a base of ops inside Federation borders.”

The bridge was silent. Tolek spoke into it again. “The needs of the many…”

Her hands were shaking, but her voice was steady. “Quite so. And if we fail, Starfleet is out a couple of ensigns, one lieutenant and a bunch of enlisted personnel. No huge loss in the scheme of things,” she joked, and the bridge laughed weakly. “Ms. Anthia, start to try to lure the rest of the Borg over here. Reroute all power to shields. We’re going to need it. Any who wish to object may do so now; it will be noted in my log,” she said. She sounded oddly calm to herself. She wondered vaguely why.

The bridge looked at each other, but kept silent. She smiled at them wanly. “Damn fine people, all of you. Notify the crew and Engineering of the plan. And tell them to buckle up. It’s gonna get a bit bumpy.”
Fingers and one set of claws tapped consoles as the crew went to work on her orders.

This time, thicker lines of blue locked onto the appropriate pieces of technology floating around and began to draw them closer to one another, but not touching. Zard and Anthia took care of the Borg cubes, fighting valiantly with reduced weapons power and dodging like a deranged hummingbird. The rest of the bridge did what they could to minimize damage to the ship.

“Almost ready, Captain. Our odds of survival are-”

“I do not want to hear the odds, Mr. Tolek,” Sam said quietly. “Just do it. All power to shields. Get ready!”

Zard fired a single photon at the cluster of innocent looking space junk. The plan was to mix the matter and the antimatter of the three different warp cores, and most likely of any warp core, damaged or otherwise, within the immediate vicinity, once they exploded. The Borg cubes, cleverly maneuvered close to them, would be vaporized.

Of course, it was unlikely the Avalon would survive. Oddly, she was ok with that. The three hundred thousand colonists on the planet below would thank them later, as would Starfleet. It was a very… Captainish sort of thing to do. Noble and brave and whatnot, she mused. Sam had always aspired to be like that, like Kirk or Picard or Janeway.

Damn, though. I never told Tolek how I felt. I never forgave Anthia. I snapped at her and I shouldn’t have-

And then the world exploded in blue and white, ending her train of thought.

The Avalon was hurled from the planet, spinning end of end. Systems exploded for the second time that day. Sirens screamed warnings, the entirety of deck ten lost pressure, and their right nacelle exploded, leaving a smoking stump as they tumbled end over end in space.

But the Avalon clung to life by the merest of fingertips. She was a very tough little ship, almost as tough as her captain and crew. She survived, and Sam was awakened by rough shaking from a familiar, red headed Vulcan.

“Captain?” Tolek asked. She moaned, waved him away, and staggered to her feet. Her entire left side hurt like a bitch. She stuffed the pain into a little box in the back of her mind for the second time that day. She couldn’t deal with that now. She was busy.

“What the- we’re alive?” she asked, bemused.

“Despite your efforts to the contrary, yes,” he said dryly.

Anthia, bleeding from a gash on her arm, snorted. “We’ve been shot to hell again. And after that nice Vulcan gave us new equipment too… Shields offline, of course. Weapons gone. Life support on emergency power, I’ll stabilize that, and we’ve lost a nacelle, though I think we have impulse and I might can get us warp. Phelix went down to Sickbay, by the way.”

“Lost? What do you mean, lost?” Sam questioned.

“Lost as in gone, as in stump, as in warp one or two maybe if the ship loves me enough,” Anthia replied. Sam groaned. Great…

“…And we’re being hailed,” reported Garr.

She resisted the urge to pull on her hair and throw her hands up. “Oh, for the love of- Onscreen…”

“USS Avalon, this is Commander Kelly. I was told you had been destroyed by the Borg. It’s good to see I was mistaken.”

“Not by much, Commander. Avalon is hurt bad. I’m Acting Captain Samantha Brown. What can we do for you?”

“We need some help,” he said, and she could have cried. “Large numbers of Borg have transported down to the Vega colony and are building these devices shielded by forcefields, and though we don’t know why we know it can’t be good. My team is pinned down, and the Borg are capturing the colonists. We need more phasers down here pronto!”

Sam sighed to herself and rubbed her eyes. “Sir, I hate to tell you this, but we’ve just gotten out of a fight with ten Borg. We've been very badly hit, and we’ve lost a lot of people. We may not be able to give you more than a single security squad.”

He bristled. “That is unacceptable! There are people in trouble down here!”

“I know, sir, and I’m sorry, but my ship and my crew are in trouble up here. I can get you a squad, but that is it. I’m sorry I’m not able to assist you more,” she said, though she was becoming less sorry every second. Where did he get off ordering her and her crew around? His situation sucked, but that was no reason to be a jerk. And she spoke the truth- they needed everyone up here repairing the ship again.

His eyes narrowed. “Dammit, girl! We don’t have time to be worried about the safety of one small ship, there are three hundred thousand people down here who need help! Lieutenant, I am ordering you to bring everyone who can hold a phaser and assist me here on the planet,” he said, delivering his ultimatum.

Tolek’s eyebrow went up. Anthia inhaled sharply. Zard snarled low, under his breath, slit eyes narrowing in anger. The CPOs exchanged worried looks at each other.

And Samantha sat in her chair, slowly, simmering with rage.

They dare- We have just gotten ourselves blown up again and they dare preach to me on the needs of the many? We almost died to save this stupid rock! My ship and my crew almost gave their lives for you! And you dare- Her blood boiled even as she cut off her angry thought. That selfish, arrogant, stupid sonuvabitch.

No.

Hell no.

She crossed her legs and steepled her fingers, looking at the view screen over them. Fury radiated from every pore on her skin. When she spoke, her voice was liquid nitrogen, fanged with frost. “Commander Kelly, I am not a lieutenant. I am the acting captain of this vessel and you will address me as such. I will send one squad –one, and not a man more- not for you, because frankly Commander you’re an asshole and I don’t feel beholden to assholes, especially assholes who try to pull rank on me to get what they want. I am doing this for the colonists. Furthermore, since I am acting captain and I outrank you, Commander, a fact that you have seem to forgotten, I want any and all spare parts you have for a starship. We just got blown to hell to save Vega from no less than ten attacking Borg cubes in a small, damaged, Centaur-class starship with over half the crew gone; I think it’s fitting that Vega help us back. We’ll beam down in twenty minutes. Have an engineer standing by to give my chief engineer whatever she needs. I’m sure Starfleet will compensate you later if you so desire.”

Commander Kelly had been turning a darker shade of puce this entire time. Now he exploded. “You can’t do that! You’re a lieutenant on a ship full of grunts and wet-behind-the-ears Academy brats! How dare you-”

“If you have problem with this, you are certainly free to file a complaint, Commander,” she said with a sick, sweet, evil little smile. “In the meantime, be ready to receive us. Captain Brown out.” She motioned for the Comm to cut the connection. Silence reigned on the bridge for a moment.

“…Wow. What a piece of work,” Sam said, shaking her head. I really lost it there for a second. I hope that little speech doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass… Oh well. No time to worry about that now.

“If I may, Captain, I would submit that you were correct in every regard. He was being unreasonable to the point of stupidity. His remarks about the officers of this ship and the enlisted personnel are highly illogical. We would not have survived this long without everyone their jobs to the absolute best of their ability,” Tolek said.

Sam smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Tolek. Let’s hope Starfleet feels the same way... Oh well, no time to worry about that. Ok, everyone, we’re beaming down to the planet to investigate what the Borg are doing there. Let me see… Mr. Zard, get yourself and two of your best people. Mr. Tolek, I would rather not take you but to be honest, I’m not sure I have a choice; we’ll need that brain of yours.”

“Of course.”

“Anthia, do whatever you have to and get those parts from their engineer. Then get back up here asap.”

“They won’t know what hit ‘em, Captain,” Anthia assured.

Sam stopped the pacing and thought for a moment. “Anyone have any other recommendations? We need two more people.”

Kingsley spoke after a moment. “Perhaps your doctor would be a good choice. If the colonists are injured…”

“Excellent idea, thank you, Mr. Kingsley,” she said, snapping her fingers. Of course! I should have thought of that… “And get me another engineer as well, we may need one. Um… Yeah. That’ll do. We’ll beam down in twenty. Mr. Kingsley, you have the bridge. Ms. Anthia, can I talk to you?” she asked. She grinned at the look on his face, and patted the shocked older man on the shoulder on the way to the door of the lift.

Anthia paused for the briefest of seconds, and followed. She walked besides Sam, a little unsure.

“…Anthia- I may have been a little, uh, harsh. You were right about the shields, and I yelled at you,” she admitted. “But you can’t do that anymore. I mean… We’re still friends, but I’m acting captain. You can’t just say ‘that’s stupid’. If you think it is, fine, but give me a reason and stuff, and come talk to me privately,” she said, struggling to explain herself to her longtime friend.

Anthia walked in silence for a moment, and she worried for a minute that she had ruined her friendship with the Andorian.

“….Yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry, Captain,” she said. “I tend to, um, not think sometimes,” she admitted.

Sam heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Anthia,” she said, and the relief was palpable in her voice. Impulsively, she hugged her friend. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to snap. I’ve just- this whole captain thing-”

Anthia rolled her eyes and hugged her friend back. “It’s fine. Geez. And you better stop hugging me, Captain’s don’t hug Lt. Commanders. I may file a complaint,” she joked.

“Of course.” She released her friend, smiling. Sam felt a little better. Anthia grinned at her friend, and punched her lightly in the arm.

“Silly Captain. Something as small as a Borg invasion isn’t enough to ruin our friendship,” the blue-skinned girl said, smiling cockily. “We’re the Fab Five. What’s that earth saying? All for one and one for all.”

=/\=

Zard, his people, Tolek, Phelix, Anthia, an engineering ensign and Sam rematerialized into a warzone. Commander Kelly, a grizzled African-American man, was there glaring at them.

“Commander Kelly,” she said. “Lt. Commander Anthia, my engineer. Do you have the parts?”

“They’re over there,” he said sullenly. “Now will you help us?”

Anthia ducked low behind the barricade they had erected and examined the crates. “These are great, Captain. Exactly what we need,” she said jubilantly.

“Beam them up and get to work, Anthia. Good luck,” Sam said to her old friend.

“Righty-tighty, Captain, don’t you worry. Thank you, Commander. One to beam up!” Anthia disappeared, along with the supplies.

Commander Kelly was watching her as the crates disappeared. Sam turned to him. “What do you need us to do?” she asked simply.

Commander Kelly took a breath. “Here’s the situation. The Borg, for reasons unknown, are rounding up colonists but not assimilating them. I’m not sure why, but I’m not going to question it, it’s much better than the alternative.” More Borg acting weird, Sam thought. Why? “I’m pinned down here preventing them from taking the command post, and I can’t spend the men for a rescue attempt. That is where you and your team can hopefully help me. We need to rescue the colonists before the Borg revert to their old ways. We’ll keep the evac points clear here,” he finished.

“Sounds like a plan, Commander. Mr. Zard, take point, Mr. Phelix, behind me, Mr. Tolek to the left,” she said, unslinging Gron’s rifle from her back. “Formation Beta-2. Phasers on extra-crispy. Let’s go.”

They moved out with surprising efficiency. Commander Kelly watched them go. Maybe he’d get lucky and she’d be assimilated…

What used to be a prospering little city was now trashed by the Borg. Windows were broken, stores ransacked, and general chaos reigned. Glass crunched beneath her sturdy boots. Sam was elated to have such a simple assignment. Find Borg, shoot Borg, rescue colonist. Easy.

It occurred to her that twelve hours ago, dealing with the Borg in any capacity would have been a Big Deal. Now it was actually a relief. It was a statement as to how her life had changed. She repressed a wild laugh –now was not the time- and settled for a smile a little to the left of crazy.

I may need another hypo stimulant. I think the other is wearing off.

They spotted the first group of Borg, four of them, cornering what looked like a family of three. Zard hissed. “Here we go!”

She took aim and fired, popping the first Borg in the back. He slumped to the ground. The rest turned to face them, but they were also eliminated quickly. “Go, the evac point is clear,” she ordered. The civilians looked up at her gratefully.

“Thank you! Thank you so much! I knew Starfleet wouldn’t fail us!” said the woman. Her husband pulled her along, still babbling thanks. Sam smiled as she watched them go.

“Moving on, everyone. Keep sharp.”

The Borg were everywhere, but, as the Commander and the EMH before him had said, they were different, disjointed in their actions, and that was the weakness that enabled the away team to kill them. If the colonists were injured, Phelix administered first aid. She had lost track of how many Borg they had killed and where the time had gone when her commbadge chirped. She ducked behind a bench and tapped it, out of breath. “This is Captain Brown.”

“Commander Kelly here. We’ve got the colonists. I have another job for you, if you’re up for it. Some colonists have reported that the Borg are building devices to reconnect with the Collective.”

Her face fell. “That’s not good. Find them and destroy them, I presume?”

“Hell yes. We can’t fight the Collective. We can barely handle the Borg we have now. While you’re shutting them down, we’ll launch the final offensive from here,” he said. “It’s surrounded by a forcefield. I’m not sure how you’ll deal with that but you’ll have to get past it to destroy the transmitter. They’ll probably be heavily guarded too.”

“Don’t worry, Commander, we can do that. Captain Brown out.” She looked up at her team. “You heard the man. I’ll take point, Zard, take rear. Mr. Tolek, I hope you and our engineer here can shut down that field.” She snorted. “I’m sorry I ever called your hobby morbid and grotesque. It may just save our asses. Everyone ready?”

The away team nodded, and she leaped to her feet. “Move out.”

They moved out of the town and into the forest beyond. She could see a green glow through the trees, and they encountered more Borg, a sure sign they were getting close.

When she saw the transmitter, she slowed. It was swarming with Borg, and a green shield flickered as they passed through it with impunity.

Wordlessly, she aimed and fired, dropping a drone where he stood. The rest of the away team followed her lead. The Borg left their posts and turned to the interlopers.

The battle was pitched and furious, but nothing new. The engineering ensign was almost assimilated; he would have been if Zard hadn’t casually picked up the drone and ripped his head off. Not for the first time she thanked whatever malfunction they were suffering from that made them easier to kill.

When they finished, Tolek approached the forcefield experimentally. He pressed a hand against it. It didn’t yield. A single Borg console was out in the open, and he went to it. Sam followed.

She could see that fine mind ticking away. He touched a green circle cautiously, and another.

“Try to hurry, Tolek.”

He gave her the Vulcan Glare. She chuckled. “Sorry, sorry. I know you’re doing your best. I’d just hate to see all we’ve done go to waste. If the Collective is contacted-”

“I am aware of the ramifications. If you would not mind, I am trying to work. Please give me space,” he said, expressionless. He rested his tricorder against the pillar as he worked.

She backed off and took the opportunity to rest, leaning against a tree. Zard gave her a concerned glace.

“You ok, Captain?” he hissed.

“I’m fine. Just tired. Phelix, can I get another of that stimulant, please?”

Phelix gave her a worried look. “I really don’t like giving you another. That is strong stuff…”

“I’ll deal with that later. Come on, Doctor, please?”

Phelix sighed and rummaged in his white labcoat pocket. “Here. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Captain…”

He pressed the hypo to her neck and she sighed with relief. The drug was already taking effect. She closed her eyes briefly-

A sudden whirr and fizzle made her shoot to awareness with such speed that even Zard was surprised. The forcefield was gone.

“The forcefield is disengaged. I have also downloaded the data from the pillar. It may prove useful,” Tolek said.

She grinned. “Nice! Good work, Tolek!” Before she remembered she was the captain, she hugged him tightly in happiness.

Tolek stiffened in surprised. She hadn’t hugged him in years. Granted, they hadn’t seen each other in years, but-

Just as suddenly, she pulled away. Color rose to her cheeks. She was the captain! What the hell was she doing? It must be the stimulant. Yipes. That is strong stuff. “Let’s, uh, shut this sucker down,” she mumbled.

Tolek looked at Zard, confused. Zard shrugged. He had suspected something as much, but Tolek had apparently been oblivious. Typical Vulcan.

“How are we going to sssshut it down?” Zard asked. “Isss Tolek-”

Sam raised her rifle and squeezed the trigger, answering his question. Bolts of plasma sizzled and popped as they splattered home, and the machine sparked and smoked.

“There. But, just to be sure… Phaser please?” she asked. The engineer gave her his. She cranked the dial up way past maximum and tucked it between two structural supports. “There we go. We might want to clear the area. We’ve got five minutes before that phaser overloads and creates a nice little crater where that device currently stands.”

Zard hissed his amusement. “You are the massssster of sssubtlety, Captain.”

“There’s a time for finesse, Mr. Zard. And then there’s a time to blow the thing to kingdom come,” she replied mildly, moving away fast. “And all things considered, blowing it up is infinitely more satisfying.”

Phelix burst out laughing.

They had just cleared the treeline when the machine exploded in a very spectacular, and satisfying, fashion. Debris rained down, flaming. A cloud of smoke began to rise.

“Quite sssatassssfying indeed.”

“See? What’d I tell you? Now…” she tapped her badge. “Commander Kelly, this is Captain Brown. The Borg device is gone.”

“We could see the explosion from here, Captain. We’ve also regained communications with Starfleet. It seems you’re needed in orbit.” Sam blinked.

“Thank you, Commander. Good luck with the rest of the operation. Brown out.” She tapped her badge again. “Brown to Anthia.”

“Captain! How’d it go?”

“We did it, fill you in on the specifics later. What’s going on up there?”
“Shields and weapons are back, Captain, and we have warp two- a miracle, I might add, with only once nacelle.”

“You’re amazing, Anthia. Kelly said something about Starfleet wanting us in orbit.”

“Yeah, I’m just getting that message. It’s- Damn.” Anthia sounded both impressed and worried.

“What?” Phelix asked. “What is it?”

“….It’s, uh, Admiral Quinn, Captain.”

Tolek blinked. “Intriguing. I suggest we beam up now.”

“Ms. Anthia, beam us to the bridge, please. The Admiral deserves a face-to-face conversation,” she said, but her stomach clenched. Admiral Quinn…. Hooo boy. I hope he’s not mad at us…

“Beaming you up now, Captain.”

Vega disappeared.

=/\=

The bridge appeared around her. Everyone took his or her stations. Kingsley leaped from the center chair. She nodded to him and stood in front of it, making a feeble effort to brush off her much abused uniform.

"Welcome back, Captain.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kingsley. Onscreen,” she said, standing ramrod straight.

A grizzled Trill with a silver buzz cut and beard, in the uniform of an admiral, appeared on her view screen. He looked clean, professional, large and in charge- and made her feel slovenly. She gulped and nodded to him. “Admiral Quinn. I’m Acting Captain Samantha Brown of the USS Avalon. What can we do for you?” she asked. She was proud to say her voice didn’t waver, and she hoped her nervousness didn’t show. Of all the people she wanted to impress, Starfleet hero Admiral Quinn was top of the list.

The Admiral blinked. A young woman, a child really, twenty-five tops, stood on the bridge of the Avalon and claimed herself Captain. He could see the hardships the ship had endured in the past twelve hours. All the officers sitting at their stations bore the rank of ensign –ensign!!- and two were occupied by MCPOs. They looked as battered as the ship itself. All of them were dirty, wrinkled, and bore scratches and bruises. The bridge itself was scored with black, a little smoky, and littered with pieces of the roof and consoles. Stains on the carpet marked where the commanding officers of the vessel had fallen and bled.

It didn’t look like the ship that had rescued the survivors of the Battle for Vega. It didn’t look like a crew capable of taking on ten Borg cubes and coming out alive, despite a half-suicidal, crazy-ass plan. It didn’t look like the sort of captain that had the balls to tell Commander Kelly off as he complained she had.

“Captain Brown. I’ve heard a lot about you for the past sixteen hours or so. Captain So’Lok tells me that you’re quite the commanding officer.”

“Sir, with all due respect to Captain So’Lok, I wouldn’t be here if my crew wasn’t tough as nails and as brilliant as Cochrane himself,” she said bluntly in reply. Quinn noted how she immediately put the accolades on the crew, rather than herself. He could see the bridge sort of smile and shake their heads a little, as if this was typical behavior. “How are things? I’ve been planetside helping Commander Kelly and I just got back on board.”

“Not good, Captain. Not good. I’ve ordered all ships to regroup for the final push to take back the sector. I want you and your ship there as well. I’ve transmitted the coordinates to your helm. Warp there as soon as you can.”

Her neck prickled. Final fight… “Yes sir. We’ll be there.”

“Good. We’ll need you. Quinn out.”

She let out the breath she had been holding and turned to look at her crew. They looked back at her, waiting patiently for her orders.

Her crew.

Her bridge.

Her ship.

When had she started thinking of herself as Captain, rather than Acting Captain? She didn’t know. But she vowed that they would survive this. They had given too much, suffered too much, not to survive this.

“Ms. Anthia, set the course. Max warp,” she said simply. “Comm, open a channel to the ship.”

“Course set.”

“Channel open.”

“Hello, everyone. This is the Captain speaking. Admiral Quinn has called us and he wants us to assist with the final battle for the sector. He needs all the help he can get. One last time, guys, and then we can all go to Risa for some well-earned rest.” She paused as the bridge chuckled tiredly.

“I’m not sure what’ll happen to us after the battle, if we survive. We may all be reassigned. Somehow, I doubt they are going to let a lieutenant command a starship for any longer than is necessary. I just wanted to say… It’s been my privilege and pleasure serving with all of you. I intend to recommend you all for promotion and every damn award we can get. Captain out.”

She took a breath and turned to Anthia. “Engage.”

=/\=

Since they only had warp two, it took them an hour to get to the rendezvous. Sam had an hour to think on things. She updated her will, pragmatically, and walked the ship assisting with what repairs she could, talking and reassuring the rest of the crew.

She called a brief bridge officer meeting, and talked –just talked- with her friends like she hadn’t in what felt like years. She learned about Garr and Kingsley as well. They were the voices of experience on her bridge and she wanted them to know she valued them highly. Garr was a mother, twin boys, poor woman. Her husband was a civilian consultant in the engineering department; her family had survived the carnage, a happy stroke of luck. Kingsley was single, but had a nephew he was fond of. He enjoyed playing the violin, a surprising hobby for the gruff man.

But eventually, the time came where they would join the fleet. Everyone reported to stations. Sam sat in the captain’s chair in what was becoming her usual pose: fingers steepled, legs crossed. They were as ready as they were ever going to get…

“Coming out of warp in three… two… one,” said Anthia.

The stars turned from lines to pinpricks of light. Ships appeared- and so did Borg cubes. The battle was going on even as they re-entered normal space.

“Hail Admiral Quinn, send him apologies for our lateness and then fire at the nearest Borg,” she commanded.

“Firing,” Zard said.

“Message sent.”

The ship jerked in what was becoming the familiar motion of being hit. “Shields down to sixty two percent, need I remind you Captain that this baby is held together by duct tape and prayers right now-” Anthia said, blue fingers flying over the controls of her console and ducking the ship out of the way of incoming fire.

“Arm torpedoes! Fire! Execute Kappa-Alpha-Bravo!”

Zard and Anthia worked synchronously to direct the ship. They went down and under the nearest cube, then rolled upside down and hammered it’s more vulnerable underbelly. It exploded above them, and the ship shuddered.

“Captain, current count stands at seventeen Borg ships, sixteen –fifteen- Federation vessels,” Tolek reported.

“Target their weapons, Zard! We have to incapacitate as many as we can before they adapt,” Sam ordered.

In the corner of her eye, she saw two Federation ships explode, ramming a Borg cube and taking it with them. The utter devastation was oddly silent in the vacuum of space. She felt very little. Her mind was too busy analyzing possibilities to grieve for them.

She’d do it later.

She noted she seemed to be saying that a lot, and when the emotional and physical bill finally came she would probably be in trouble.

Then the thought was gone and she was back in the game.

“We’ve disabled the cube’s weapons!”

“Move onto the next one, the battlecruisers will destroy it,” she said.

They fired and fired again, targeting the Borg nearby.

“Captain, we’ve lost three more Federation vessels- all the battlecruisers,” Tolek reported.

She snarled in frustration. “The best laid plans-” A voice came over the audio, interrupting her.

We are the Borg.

You will be assimilated.

Resistance-

“Cut the damn audio,” Sam snapped. “And fire!”

Phasers and photon torpedoes lashed out and hammered the enemy, unrelenting. The Avalon, hell-bent on revenge for the indignities she had suffered, twirled, dodged, and returned fire like a ballerina with a grievance and a machine gun.

Tolek was tapping furiously. I wonder… There! “Captain- the data downloaded from the Borg structure on Vega had some information on Borg ship construction, and I think that we may be able to use it. It seems to point to several weaker spots in their shielding and hulls.”

“Thank you, Mr. Tolek! Fire on those coordinates!” Sam said. “Status report!”

“Shields down to thirty nine percent, we’re leaking atmo from decks five through nine.”

“Evacuate all personnel to the upper decks, reroute power to shields and weapons-”

One Borg ship exploded.

Then two.

Sam smiled. “It’s working! Keep at them! Well done, Commander!”
I
t was chaos. Casualties were massive on both sides, but the Avalon continued her assault.

“And transmit the data to the other ships!” she said suddenly. If they could all fire at the weak spots-

“Captain, something is jamming us-” Tolek said, his lips turning down in a frown.

“Oh damn. Captain….” Anthia maneuvered the ship- and on the view screen appeared, in the middle of the battlefield of space, a Borg Sphere.

Borg Spheres were very, very rare. They only appeared when the Borg felt they were actually in danger of losing. Powerful, huge, and scary as all hell, they made mince meat of most ships.


The Sphere opened fire and in less than two seconds destroyed five ships. Flame blossomed on the screen.

“It’s jamming us, Captain. We can’t give the information to the other ships,” Tolek said quietly.

“We need to destroy that ship. Ideas?” Sam asked, turning to her crew.

“Normal phasersss and photonsss will not be very effective. The sssship hasss already adapted,” Zard said.

“Can we remodulate the deflector array?” Kingsley asked. “Use that somehow?”

“It is possible, but I fail to see-” Tolek stopped, and she could see the idea dawn on him. “Anthia, can you modify the deflector array to send a feedback pulse to the Borg shields and overload them?”

“I could. Then again, we’ll be dead in the water once the shields are gone- we’d have to send every drop of energy into it. Like, no power. At all. We’ll have to hope someone shoots the Borg before they shoot us,” she said, but she was already working on it.

“Mr. Tolek, you’re a genius.”

“Yes,” he said calmly.

“Inform the crew and Phelix. Tell him sorry, but he’s about to be busy if he isn’t already,” Sam said. “And don’t stop firing till you’re prepared to activate the deflector.”

“No sssshit,” Zard muttered as he targeted a Borg cube anew. The Federation vessels were dwindling in number even as they planned; there were only seven left now, including the Admiral’s. But the Borg had lost the same amount, and they stood tied, seven to seven. The Federation ships, unlike their Borg counterparts, were prone to suicide runs when all seemed lost. Taking the Borg with them to hell was a plus.

They destroyed another cube and hid behind the wreckage of a Galaxy-class vessel. “We ready yet?” Sam asked urgently.

“Almost. I’m moving us into position,” Anthia said.

They all watched as the Borg Sphere loomed on the screen. Another ship fired on it uselessly. The shield manifested.

Anthia punched the button.

From the deflector array of the Avalon, a thick green beam of energy punched into the shields. They held-

Held-

Expanded-

Crackled-

And with one final push, the beam penetrated the defenses and the shields faded. Tolek, with the last of the ship’s power, sent a data stream to every ship in the vicinity. Then the Avalon flickered and went dark and dead in space, paralyzed and vulnerable.

Admiral Quinn couldn’t believe his eyes when the Avalon appeared from behind some wreckage, launched a beam of some sort, and shields of the Sphere failed. He didn’t know how they had done it, but he wasn’t going to waste the chance.

“FIRE EVERYTHING!” he bellowed.

They opened salvo with every photon in their arsenal. Phasers carved up the sphere like a slice of cheese. Quinn watched, elated, amazed, as it exploded.

And a beep on his captain’s chair notified him that they had received a transmission from the Avalon.

It was a written text, and as he scrolled through it, he realized that this information could turn the tide of the battle. “Comm, put us in front of the Avalon; if she were destroyed right now, we would lose one of the finest crews and captains I have ever had the privilege to meet.”

=/\=
The Avalon was effectively out of commission. The only thing her crew could do, literally, was wait for rescue. They had several hours of air left, and the fact that they hadn’t been destroyed in the first minutes after they lost power spoke well for the tide of battle.

Her crew didn’t waste time; they all went to work patching what they could. But the damage to the ship was terrible.

The Avalon was mortally injured, the death toll of the crew horrendous. She had a mere fourth of her crew left, twenty nine out of one hundred and extensive damage to almost every system that made her previous wounds look like paper cuts. There was some doubt that she could ever be restored to full capacity. She might be beyond saving- and the thought tore at Sam’s heart unexpectedly.

Sam was exhausted, physically and mentally. The stimulant was wearing off. Finally, she gave in and slipped quietly into her ready room. She put her head down on the desk, resolving to wake up in fifteen minutes or so, and was asleep within seconds. Tolek found her there later, but decided not to disturb her.

She deserved a few hours of rest.

No one came out of the Battle for Vega unscathed. They had all… matured. Grown. They were no longer the junior officers that had entered the Avalon.
I
t was six hours later when Tolek woke Samantha. She had immediately scolded him for letting her sleep that long when there was work to be done. He informed her that repair crews from all the surviving ships were working on getting the Avalon up and running again.

“We suspected, Captain, that you would want us to return to Spacedock under our own power.”

“Damn straight,” she agreed. “Just give us warp one and three days to get there. We’ll limp into port on our own, thank you very much.”

“Admiral Quinn requests the presence of you and the senior staff when you arrive,” Tolek said.

“Naturally. How is everyone?”

“Injured, but functioning.”

“Excellent. The second part is all I care about,” she said, joking.

“How are you, Samantha?” Tolek asked seriously.

“Me? Ok, I guess. Exhausted. I could sleep for a week. I keep having to push my grief back and back, because I don’t have time to deal with it,” she said, voice shaking a little. “I’m not sure if the Avalon can be saved, and I worry that Starfleet Command will be mad at me for yelling at Commander Kelly, among other things. I actually feel sorry that they’re going to take away my captaincy, though I can’t really blame them. I’m just a lieutenant. Now that the crisis is over, Avalon will get a new Captain, probably a new crew…” She sighed heavily. “I’m sorry. I unloaded on you. I shouldn’t have.”

“As I recall, someone recently made me a Commander. Part of my job is to be there for the captain to unload on,” he said, arching an eyebrow at her. She couldn’t help but smile.

“I suppose someone did,” she agreed. Then she laughed. “Can you imagine going back to being an ensign after this?” The thought was absurd. She could never look at her superiors the same.

“It is somewhat disconcerting. But I believe there is high probability of promotion for all of us.”

“I kind of hope so. I… I liked being captain. I was pretty decent too, really, all things considered,” she said thoughtfully. “I hope we get the same ship, too. That’d be nice…”

It took the repair crews another six hours to get the ship operational in the barest sense. They had warp one and impulse, no shields, weapons, or half their other nonvital systems. It would take three days to get home from where they were.

During that three days, Zard, Anthia, Tolek, Phelix, Sam, and the rest of the remaining crew of the Avalon had a memorial service for all that had died. She finally got to cry for Gron and Captain Qat’Anmek. She was even able to clean her uniform, but she promptly got it dirty again with repairs. And she was sure she’d never get the smell of smoke and burned starship out of her hair.

On the dawn of the third day, they entered the Sol system, about a week after Sam had first taken command of the Avalon. She had never been so happy to see Earth and Spacedock.

“Permission to cheer, Captain?” Anthia asked from her console.

“Permission granted,” Sam said, mock-solemn.

“Woohoo!”

And the whole bridge –hell, the whole ship- joined in, as the Avalon limped slowly to Spacedock. In the midst of shiny, well-polished cruisers and science vessels, the scarred and bruised hull of the small ship stuck out like a sore thumb, but Sam was so proud she could almost burst.

“Hail Spacedock.”

“Open,” said Garr.

“Spacedock, this is Captain Samantha Brown, requesting permission to dock.”

The man on the view screen nodded seriously at her. “Permission granted, Captain. We’ll take it from here.”

“Thank you. Avalon out.”

The tractor beams of Spacedock gently drew the Avalon to a docking ring. Sam looked around the bridge.

“Well, Admiral Quinn wants to talk to us. We better not keep him waiting,” she said. “Kingsley and Garr, that includes you as well as the officers; you were as important as anyone.”

The MCPOs looked surprised but rose and joined her, Zard, Anthia, Tolek, and Phelix. The walk to the transporter room was silent.

They beamed down, appearing just outside the Admiral’s office. Compared to the crisply attired officers around them, the crew of the Avalon looked disheveled and dirty. But Sam was used to that by now, and just didn’t care.

She stepped up to the door. It opened to admit her. Admiral Quinn was seated at his desk with a padd, and he rose to meet her. “Captain Brown. Good to see you again.”

“You too, sir,” she replied. Her grip was firm. “My senior staff: Commander Tolek, Chief Engineer Anthia, my CMO Dr. Phelix, Chief of Security Zard, my Comm officer Ms. Garr, and my Ops officer Mr. Kingsley.”

Up close, she looked about like the Avalon, which was to say like hell. They all did, pulling up chairs and sitting with the relief of the very weary.

“I wanted to personally tell you that your actions during the Vega Crisis were phenomenal,” Quinn began. “You and your crew exemplify the highest standards of service in Starfleet. You handled yourself very well- all of you did.” He looked them each in the eye, and continued. “I have personally requested, and been granted, that you be put under my command. You are all receiving the Tiberius Award, for service beyond excellence. Your efforts to combat the Borg in the face of overwhelming odds was, to be frank, inspiring. In the Avalon’s first week of life under your command, she has seen more combat and accomplished more than most ships do in their entire service under any captain.”

Sam gasped. The Tiberius Award had been awarded a mere handful of times over the centuries, and never to more than one person at once. It was one hell of a commendation.

“What about the Avalon?” Anthia asked.
“
She will be repaired and then some.” Sam let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. “She deserves it.”

“Who will command it?” Tolek inquired. “Have you selected a captain yet?”

“Yes, yes I have. I realize the circumstances regarding your promotions are unique, and your innate skill saved the ship multiple times over. But a captain needs experience,” he said, and she felt her heart fall. Why had she even gotten her hope up? It was too much to ask…

“And in my opinion, there is no other way to get experience than the actual command of a starship. I have made permanent the field commissions forced on you and your crew. I have also invoked the fifteenth paragraph in the enlisted personnel clause. I am promoting Garr and Kingsley to Lieutenant. Being an admiral has its perks, after all,” he said. She stared at him, not quite believing what she was hearing.

“I… She’s mine? The- the Avalon is mine?” she asked, stunned.

Phelix blinked. “We’re going to keep our ranks?”

“Lieutenant?” gaped Kingsley, pole-axed.

“Yes, yes, and yes. Though not quite as you know her. She’s going to be refitted with the latest and greatest. No little Centaur-class this,” the admiral added smugly. “Of course, it’ll take a month or so, maybe longer. But that gives you time to select a crew, requisition supplies, take a vacation, all that good stuff. There’s going to be a formal debriefing; Commander Kelly has some questions for you, as do the other admirals.”

Anthia snorted. “He can kiss our- Er. Um,” she said, at Sam’s glare. “Sorry, Captain.”

“And Captain So’Lok has requested you give him a call when you have a moment,” said the Admiral.

“I will,” Sam promised.

He handed her a padd. “Here are your rooms while you stay here at Spacedock for you and your crew. I look forward to seeing where you’ll go and what you’ll do, Captain Brown.”

She smiled at him, as she and her crew rose. “You know, Admiral… So do I. So do I.”

Sam shook his hand one final time. She turned to her crew- her friends- practically her family.

Tolek’s lips twitched in that serene, Vulcan almost-smile, brown eyes twinkling under his red crew cut hair. He gave her the eyebrow that said ‘Told-you-so’. She owed him for snapping her out of it and making her face her responsibilities.

Anthia, with her temper and her foul mouth, waited impatiently by the door, brushing a blonde strand out of her blue face. She probably wanted to go see what they were doing to the Avalon. “Hey, c’mon, let’s go already,” she urged. The Andorian was her staunch and stubborn friend, as emotional as they came, always ready to speak her mind. Anthia was practically her sister.

Phelix, cheerful and compassionate, ready with a joke or bit of humor to defuse the situation. He grinned widely at her, the Denobulan smile, and winked. “What’d we tell you, Captain?”

Zard, fearsome but shy, loyal, and strong. She couldn’t think of a better security officer. “Doesss anyone want to join me for a meal?” he asked. “I’m sssstarving.”

Kingsley snorted, as they all turned and exited the office. “I’ll tell you bluntly, Cap’n, I didn’t think you could do it. I’m happy to see I was wrong,” he told her. Kingsley, an unlikely ally, gruff and experienced. She had the feeling she could rely on him, like Anthia, for a brutally honest opinion.

Garr chimed in. “I had my doubts, but I lost them within the first few minutes. You seemed to have it all under control. More or less,” she added wickedly. “I still can’t believe he made us lieutenants! I’m going to have to brush up on my command protocols...” Garr was competent, calm, and in control; if things were going to hell, she would be where she needed to be, doing what needed to be done.

Her crew. Her magnificent crew.

“Tolek,” Sam said, and Tolek stopped. The rest of the group kept moving forward, out of earshot. “I believe I promised you a game of 4D chess. I don’t think we ever got it. Care to play me?”

He paused. There was something more in her offer than just a game of chess. Her brown eyes held…. He didn’t know what. Though Starfleet had relaxed its fraternization protocols quite a bit in twenty years, romance in the ranks was still frowned upon and varied largely by the person.

As a commander and captain, as friends, could they still function if they were romantically involved?

The safest thing was to reject her offer. Say some other time.

But… He was surprised to find he didn’t want to.

She held her breath. If he rejected her, she would never speak of this again, but if there was ever a time to say something, this was it. She had seen during the past week that life was too short for missed chances.

“That would be agreeable, Sam,” he said quietly, meeting her eyes. “I think we have much to discuss.”

Her smile lit up the whole room. The crew of the USS Avalon continued to the mess hall, leaving one adventure behind…. And just beginning the next.






THE END