THE WAR IN HOLOSPACE
“Captain on the bridge!” Lieutenant Alexander Rozhenko shouted as Captain Nog stepped through the turbo lift doors to Defiant’s bridge.
“Report,” was all the Captain said as he took his place in the center chair.
“Upon reaching the edge of Dominion space under cloak, we began receiving a distress call from a civilian Federation vessel,” reported the son of Worf.
“On speakers.”
The bridge was filled with the crackling of static transmission. “This is the Federation Star liner Kobayashi Maru. We are adrift and in need of assistance. Request any help available. Repeat, engines are offline and life support at sixty-five percent. Any assistance would be greatly appreciated.”
“Ensign Lowe, what information do we have on the Kobayashi Maru? Put it on screen.”
Ensign Lowe pressed the control console before her and immediately the civilian ship’s specifications and passenger manifest appeared on the main view screen.
“Damn it! A hundred and thirty-five aboard an unarmed Federation pleasure ship adrift in enemy space! What a perfect way to end a recon mission.” The Captain tugged at his earlobes and took a deep breath.
“Ensign Lowe, set a direct course for the Kobayashi Maru.”
“Captain, may I remind you that taking this action will place the Defiant and her crew in jeopardy. The Jem Hadar will not be far off once they detect us uncloaking to take on survivors.”
“Objection noted, Mr. Rozhenko. Your father’s ship will be returned to him without a single scratch. Make it so, Ensign. Maximum warp. Engage.”
The ship turned and pivoted on its axes using thrusters. Then the familiar sensation of stretching as if being pulled into a vortex swept over them all as the tiny ship jumped to warp. Stars streaked past in the view screen as they crossed the threshold of enemy territory. Then moments later, moments that seemed like an eternity, they dropped out of warp.
“Ensign Lowe, any sign of the ship?”
The ensign checked her console and shook her head. “No, sir. There are no ships within a square parsec.”
“Correction,” said Alexander from the security console. “No Federation ships. Four Jem Hadar fighters approaching at warp four from heading 315 mark 7. ETA, three minutes.”
“Perhaps today is a good day to die, Mr. Rozhenko. Red alert. All hands to battle stations,” was the war cry from the little Ferengi captain.
“There is no profit in this battle,” chided the young Klingon warrior.
“No, but think of the honor and the glory. I yearn to see the expression on Commander Worf’s face when you sing him the tale of this glorious day, Alexander.” They both laughed a hearty laugh, but their mirth was short lived as a Jem Hadar energy missile rocked the tiny ship.
“Status, Mr. Rozhenko.”
“Direct hit to the aft weapons array. They have hit us with some sort of energy weapon I do not recognize. It is causing a complete cascade failure of all systems,” reported Alexander.
“Fire whatever we’ve got available at full intensity and at maximum spread,” ordered the Captain.
“That’s not possible, Captain. All weapons are now off line,” reported the Klingon officer.
Just then the view screen which had been darkened by the energy missile, came to life with the smiling face of the Vorta, Weyoun. Alexander smashed his fists onto the security console and growled with anger.
