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[2008: SEP-OCT] Final Flight

James T. Kolk

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Smoke filled the bridge as the Captain Thomas struggled back into his seat. Wiping blood from his eyes, he shot a glance at his tactical officer as she dragged herself back up to her station.


A couple of tension filled seconds passed before the woman looked up at him, her face grim.

"Borg vessel is still advancing, Captain. We’ve done some damage, but the thing just seems to be shrugging it off."

A dark chuckle escaped the his lips as he looked back toward the viewscreen, taking the sight of the massive vessel cruising along, oblivious to the explosions blossoming on its surface as beams of destructive energy lanced out of it toward the Starfleet ships that swarmed around.

"Fine. We'll just have to be more convincing. T’kor, run us close along its hull, I want us as close as we can safely get. Hellas, stand by with

everything we’ve got. We’re not getting paid to take ordnance home with us."

A chorus of acknowledgments rang out as the deck seemed to vibrate with the build-up of the engines. Another glance at the screen showed the sheer wall of the enemy’s hull closing very, very fast.

Turning his attention to the console by his side, he thought fast, trying to decipher the confused jumble of data it showed into a clear picture of the battle.


The panicked shout of one of the bridge crewmen snapped his head back up, his eyes taking in the sight of what looked like half of a Nebula’s saucer section cartwheeling toward them, lights still flickering as flame belched from the huge rents in its surface.

“T’kor!” he barked, “Evasive-“

His order was cut short as the unflappable Vulcan at the controls pre-empted his instructions, her fingers dancing over the controls, snapping the ship into a roll that had the wreckage missing the shields by scant meters.

“Nice save.”

Hellas’ compliment was ragged with relief and adrenaline, but T’kor simply ignored it as she would any other irrelevance. Straightening himself in his seat, Thomas tried to ignore the stench of burnt circuits that filled the air.

The next time Hellas spoke, she was calmer, but not by much.

“Pattern set, ready to fire.”

“Pour it on!”

Somehow, T’kor’s deft touch kept the ship from harm as it shot across the Borg’s hull, the lights dimming as red-lined weapons systems pumped untold isotons of energy into their target. Within seconds they were away again, dodging past another vessel that was beginning its own run.

Looking at the combat display once more nearly brought tears to Thomas’ eyes. Another two ships gone since last he’d looked. Grimly, he shoved the feeling aside. Loosing his focus could only result in more casualties.

Avenge now, mourn later.

Forcing himself to think clearly, he noted the identification of the nearest Starfleet ship and a smile crossed his lips.

“Give me a channel to the Thunderchild.”

Seconds later, the face of the other ship’s Captain appeared in the corner of the viewscreen.

“Heck of a fight, ain’t it, Lex?”

“Sure is,” Thomas replied, “Fancy a tag team?”

The look of feral anticipation that appeared on the tiny Japanese woman’s face was all the answer he needed.

“Good to see you’re as cute and fluffy as ever, Yoshi.”

The other Captain’s reply was lost in a wash of static as a beam from the Borg ship ripped between the two vessels, which was probably a good thing, he thought to himself. The rest of her words came thorough clear, though.


“Works for me. Hellas?”

The tactical officer just nodded, keying the attack pattern into her system.

“See you on the other side, Lex.”

Thomas nodded and cut the connection.

“Take us back in.”

Almost perfectly synchronized, the pair of Akiras dove toward their target, weaving between debris and enemy fire as they went. Soon enough, however, their luck ran out, and Thomas found himself on the deck once more as the ship bucked violently under a solid impact.

The EMH materialized, but he ignored it, trusting the hologram to do its job. With a crackle of interference, the XO’s voice came over the comm., confusing the Captain for a moment until he remembered sending the Tellarite down to Engineering.

“Boss, that hit destabilized the warp core. We don’t eject it in the next couple of minutes, we’re gonna be vapor!”

He could feel the change in the deck plating, the ship was losing its strength. Struggling to his feet, he made a decision.

“Negative. I’m going to use it. Someone give me ship-wide.”

The chime of the comm being opened seemed grotesquely out of place, but it was just another detail to be ignored.

“All hands, this is the Captain.”

Pausing for a moment, he gathered the strength to say the words he’d hoped never to utter.

“Abandon ship.”

Taking his seat once again, he closed the comm. Himself before addressing what was left of his bridge crew.

“T’kor, set a collision course with the Borg cube, and get out of here. Donna, give me weapons control.”

The bridge was silent for a second, then the T’kor turned back to her console.

“A straight course is unlikely to succeed, Captain. It will need constant adjustment.”

“You never could shoot straight, boss.” Hellas chimed in.

Looking around him, he saw the same look of determination on the faces of every crewman in sight, even the young Ensign helping the EMH, muttering a fervent prayer as he did so. With a sigh, he settled back in his seat.

“Remind me to court-martial you all when we get to Hell.”

In the last few seconds before impact, he thought back over all that he had been through with this crew, and decided he couldn’t think of better company to die in. A last thought ran through his head as the prow of the ship slammed into its target.


In an instant that seemed an eternity, the USS Indria died in fire.

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