Fiddler on the Maru

"Capt. Fiddle, shields are down to 20%!"

The captain braced as another torpedo struck.  "Evasive pattern:  sigma seven."

The ship slowly turned as the birds of prey followed suit.  "Lt. Gentry," the captain began, being interrupted by another blast, "I want you to hack into the two leading ships' comms when they cloak.  Once you're in, I want you to play Devil Went Down to Georgia, but the Guitar Hero III version and skip to the last solo at maximum volume."

The lieutenant had a nervous look on his face, but nodded, "Aye, sir."

"Sir, shields are down to 11%!"

"Divert all remaining power to the aft shields!"  Another blast struck causing sparks to fly from an overhead panel.  "Gentry?"  There was no response.  He whipped his head in Lt. Gentry's direction, "Gentry!"

"It's done, sir."

"Bring us around on the third ship, and give'em everything we've got on my command!"  Just as the ship came around to face the third ship, an explosion could be seen as the two cloaked ships collided with one another.  Captain Fiddle allowed a large grin to break his lips.  His parents had been killed by Klingons, and even though he knew this was a simulation, he was thrilled to be getting revenge.  He waited until the third ship was fully in view and, as luck would have it, was showing its underbelly as it avoided the collision.  "Fire!"