Star trek Echoes of Command

4. Concern of Peace

||Location: Starbase 310, Near the Cardassian Border||
||Timeline: 2354||

The hull of the USS Rutledge shuddered under the impact of Cardassian disruptor fire. The bridge was a flurry of red-alert lighting and rapid-fire commands as the crew scrambled to maintain order. Captain Benjamin Maxwell stood at the center, his eyes fixed on the viewscreen, which displayed the advancing Cardassian Galor-class warships. Three of them loomed, their golden hulls casting a menacing glow against the darkness of space.

"Shields at sixty percent, Captain!" Mara called out from her station, her voice strained but steady.

Caden Jarron stood near his station, scanning tactical data and studying the movement of the enemy vessels. His calm demeanor contrasted with the chaos around him, but inside, his mind was racing. The Cardassians were relentless, their tactics shifting and adapting with each volley. The Rutledge had fought skirmishes before, but this... this was different. The precision and timing of the attack suggested they had been waiting for a moment of vulnerability.

Captain Maxwell glanced over his shoulder at Caden. "Jarron, ideas?"

Before Caden could respond, the ship rocked violently again as a Cardassian disruptor beam sliced through the starboard shields, sending sparks flying from consoles. Jason, who was manning the secondary tactical station, was thrown to the deck as the ship's structural integrity field buckled under the assault.

"Direct hit on the starboard nacelle!" Jason shouted, pulling himself up with a grimace. "Damage to the EPS relays. We're losing power!"

Captain Maxwell's jaw tightened. "Get us some breathing room! Helm, evasive pattern Theta Four!"

The Rutledge veered sharply, but the Galor warships followed with lethal precision, their disruptors lighting up space like spears of fire. Caden saw the panic start to creep in among the crew. They were outnumbered and outgunned, and the Cardassians were exploiting every weakness.

Caden turned to Maxwell, his voice calm but urgent. "Captain, we're playing their game—reacting, retreating. But the Cardassians aren't just warriors. They're artists of war. Every move they make has layers of intent. They're expecting us to fall back, to fight defensively. We need to disrupt their pattern, do something they won't expect."

Maxwell's eyes narrowed as he listened, the tension in the air thick. "Go on."

Caden took a breath, his mind recalling hours of study on Cardassian culture and tactics. "Their tactics are often inspired by their ancient art forms—complex and full of misdirection. But they value efficiency in combat. They won't pursue a fight they believe is a waste of resources. If we make them think they've already won, we can surprise them."

Maxwell considered it for only a moment before nodding. "What's your plan?"

"We drop shields briefly, just long enough to make them think we're vulnerable—perhaps a power failure from the hit they just landed. They'll move in to finish us off. But we channel auxiliary power into a single, precise burst—target their lead ship's command structure. Cardassian ships are hierarchical; take out the lead, and the others will hesitate, possibly retreat."

Maxwell's gaze locked onto Caden's. "That's risky, Lieutenant."

Caden met his captain's eyes with quiet resolve. "It's our best shot, sir. If we stay on the defensive, they'll wear us down. But if we outthink them... we make them doubt themselves."

Maxwell nodded sharply. "Helm, execute Jarron's plan. Drop the shields on my mark, then bring auxiliary power to the forward phasers. Target the lead ship's bridge."