Fire In The Sky

Posted on Oct 13, 2016 @ 11:05pm by Captain Michael Turlogh Kane

Mission: Fortress: Earth

"FIRE IN THE SKY"

(Continued from "Black Outs")

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Location: USS Century, holding station, near-Earth orbit
Stardate: [2.16]1013.1900
Scene: Admiral's Quarters


Dexter Juraj Marxx replicated two glasses of lemonade and returned to the table where Siobhan Reardon was waiting for him. The Terran beverage had been a favourite of his for years now, ever since he'd first encountered it during the hot summer of his first year at Starfleet Academy, all those years ago. The little cafe on the Academy grounds (the name of it was lost to memory) had advertised the drink as being 'colder than winter on Andor', and that little witticism had been enough to make him try it. The bitter taste had been something he was completely unprepared for, but now he savoured the anticipation of the sharp tang in his mouth.

Siobhan Reardon took her glass with a playful smile, watching him carefully as he sat down opposite her. She inhaled a deep breath of the roast chicken on her plate, closing her green eyes in pleasure. "Dinner and a lemonade," she smiled. "Dex, you're going all out on a gal."

"I'm trying hard," he smiled back. "I thought it might be good to spend some time together before the storm breaks." He unbuttoned his uniform collar and detached the rank pins at his throat, wishing he had had the sense to dress in civilian clothes like his guest. "You look good, Sio."

"I feel good."

"Eat your dinner. You'll feel better with a full stomach."

She chuckled, and the sound warmed Dex's heart. They had been drawing closer lately, spending more time with each other. It was rekindling the embers in his heart - once, he thought they were cold as ash, but lately, things had changed. The long years apart had not dimmed the memories, just cast them in a different light so that he saw them differently. They were both older now, the All-Father knew that was true - eyes a little calmer, spirits a little dimmer - but that only meant that feelings and emotions could stand out a little more.

"Do you remember when the Romulans attacked the Vigilance Platform?" she said suddenly.

Dex nodded, recalling the sinking feeling in his stomach when all those Warbirds had decloaked in the main viewer. Somehow, he had instantly known at that moment that they had come to the Vegan system to spill blood, and he had thought of his family, and panicked. They and all their friends had watched the USS Nova splash fire in the sky of Kesir-Tosharra, had remembered the fear and anger of being taken prisoner by all those Romulan soldiers. The uncertain fates in a new war, all their futures paused. "Yes. I remember."

Siobhan looked suddenly sad. "Dex, in another couple of months, it will have been twenty years ago."

He knew what she was saying, knew what she really meant. The passing of time. They were living in a new generation of Starfleet officers, and it was hard to find a place in a universe that was driving inexorably forward all around you, not giving you much chance to keep up with it. Dexter Marxx paused to consider that, for the first time in his life, there might be more days behind him than ahead.

The moment passed, gone forever, leaving behind a touch of an emotion that he would remember later, in a quiet moment, and be afraid.

"I didn't mean to bring you down," she said somewhat ruefully. "Thank you for the dinner." She looked around his spartan quarters. "You didn't bring much with you when they shipped you out, did you? No portraits of Breanne, no tools for tinkering, no gi?"

Dex chuckled. Similar but slightly different to the Terran version, the Vegan gi was a long red robe worn during the practice of the Vegan martial art of Tosharri. Named after their desert homeworld, Tosharri was a focused, rigid form of unarmed combat that emphasised sudden, quick strikes that harnessed the body's spiritual energy. "I haven't worn one in a long time," he said. "Anyway, I'd probably fill it out in all sorts of strange shapes."

"You haven't been practicing?"

"No time lately," he answered truthfully. A bout of Tosharri on the holodeck would probably help to clear his mind, but the inescapable reality of the fleet's situation kept pressing down on him. "Maybe I'll replicate one as soon as this mess is over."

Siobhan sipped her lemonade. "You should. I'd like to see you in one again."

Dex felt her eyes on him and knew what she was thinking, because he was thinking it too, looking at her the same way. He put his food to one side, reached out and took her hand. It was soft and warm. "You don't have to go back to the Zhukov anytime soon, do you?"

Her eyes twinkled. "No."

Dex leaned across the table to kiss her -

{{Bridge to Admiral Marxx.}}

- and ended up planting it on thin air. He paused, sighed, and sat back. He looked up at the ceiling. "Why do you do these things to me?" he asked the All-Father.

Siobhan stifled a giggle.

Dex smiled. It was his Operations officer, Lieutenant Cassidy. "Marxx here. Go ahead, Lieutenant."

{{Admiral, Captain Kane reports that the Phoenix's phase-shuttle has launched.}}

Marxx nodded. Business was calling. If the Phoenix's phase-shuttle was able to penetrate the Aegis energy web, then her strike team could directly attack Edgerton's underwater bunker. He looked at Siobhan. She was wiping her mouth with her napkin. The dinner date was over. "Understood, Lieutenant. I'm on my way."

The both stood up and shared a personal moment, just between themselves, an emotion that was only birthed through being old companions.

"I do hope this isn't the last time we see each other, Captain Reardon," he said.

"Me too, Admiral Marxx," she winked. Then she was gone, sweeping out through the door, bound for the transporter room.

Dex buttoned up his uniform collar and affixed his rank pips. Time to be an admiral again.

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Location: USS Demeter, holding station, near-Earth orbit
Scene: Bridge


Sardak of Vulcan swept on to the bridge of the Demeter in response to the alert sent from the Phoenix. Waiting to greet him were Marie-Claire Martine and Alexander Towers. The President's hood was down, and his hands were folded serenely across his chest, hidden in the long folds of his voluminous brown Kolinahr robe. He nodded a greeting to Martine and Towers. "The phase-shuttle has been launched?"

Towers stepped forward. All around the bridge of the Demeter, the Starfleet crew watched the interaction carefully. "Yes, Mister President. If it reaches the surface of the Earth, an attack on the Neo-Essentialist stronghold can begin. If it does not, then the Aegis satellites may well engage the fleet, or attack their planetary targets. Either way, the battle for Earth is about to begin."

Sardak turned to the communications ensign, a young brown-skinned Human female. This was her homeworld, he reminded himself. "Put me through to the fleet."

The command was executed swiftly. "Channel open, sir."

Sardak took a breath. He had been preparing this speech for some time, and now that the endgame was underway, the moment was right to deliver it to the fleet. The ninety-nine thousand ears that would be listening to him speak had sacrificed much to be here, and now, at the last, it was important that his words imbue their collective spirit with enough impetus to clear the final hurdle, no matter the cost.

In the main viewer, the silvery hulls of the one-hundred-and-thirty starships that made up the fleet winked in the glow of the distant sun. The giant blue ball of Earth rolled silently by, tumbling over and over in its endless Newtonian spiral. The golden crackling energy web of the Aegis network lay behind them, snaring the Federation's capital world in its deadly mesh.

"Men and women of Starfleet," said Sardak as stridently as he could, "you are about to embark on the great crusade towards which we have striven these many months. The eyes of the quadrant are upon you. The hopes and prayers of freedom-loving people everywhere go forward with you. In company with your comrades-in-arms, you will bring about the destruction of the Neo-Essentialist regime, liberate the oppressed peoples of Earth, and forge a new future for the United Federation of Planets."

Sardak paused to let his rhetoric sink in. Silently, Marie-Claire Martine nodded to him, encouraging him to keep speaking, while Alexander Towers stood stoically on.

"Your task will not be an easy one, and I cannot promise that you will all live through this day. Your enemy has access to deadly weapons that threaten the lives of both you and everyone on the planet below. He will fight savagely. But I have full confidence in your bravery, in your devotion to duty, and in your skill under arms. Together, we will draw strength from our diversity, and fighting side-by-side, will we march forward to freedom and ultimate victory!"

For a fleeting moment as the sound of his voice dimmed, Sardak wondered if the lack of emotion in his words would affect the response of those around him, and a part of him wished he had never undergone the kolinahr. It was true that orations that were delivered with emotion seemed to have a more rousing effect on the listeners. But then, as first Marie-Claire Martine, then Alexander Towers, then the entire bridge crew began to clap their hands together, Sardak began to nod. A warm feeling appeared in his chest as all of these people, working together, absorbed his words and felt invigorated by them. As the cheers began to ring out, Sardak, for the first time in almost seventy years, smiled a loving, heartfelt little smile.

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Location: USS Phoenix, holding station, near-Earth orbit
Scene: Bridge


Michael Turlogh Kane got to his feet from the centre seat even as the President's words were fading away. Ahead on the main viewer, the Red October was moving down, down towards the Aegis energy field, carrying a desperative imperative with it. Byte sat at Ops, Russ at the conn, and Virgil Silsby was manning Tactical. The other departments were being headed up by their respective assistants, making the command crew feel a little shorn of their best people.

Silence surged in the wake of the President's message, but Kane was quick to break it. "Let's get to work!" he bellowed suddenly, making everyone on the bridge jump. "Continuous tracking of the shuttle's progress! Watch those satellites - if one of them so much as twitches, report it!"

Ther bridge crew fell to their tasks. Kane watched their progress evenly, glancing back at the main viewer as the Red October got smaller and smaller, and then disappeared from view as it engaged the phase-cloak. He was painfully aware that the Phoenix, for all the grandiose promises of war in its design, had never yet been taken into combat in the two years since she had been launched. They said that all other operational starships were obsolete now that she had been launched, that the Phoenix's phased polaron beams, superior shield technology, and raw power churning in her violet nacelles made her nothing less than the quadrant's deadliest dreadnought, but that was only a boast until it could be proved.

The closest she had come to firing her guns in anger was at Elandipole, when Dexter Marxx's fleet had come looking for them with trouble in mind. That crisis had been averted, but this was a new situation, a different kind of danger. It was one thing to square off against an enemy starship with an enemy crew and an enemy commander, but the Aegis satellites were not like that. They were soulless machines, operating off computer algorithms that didn't take organic concepts like mercy into account. They would simply fulfill their programming, such as it was, but where the Aegis satellites merciless, they also lacked human intution, the ability to adapt beyond their own programming, and could not anticipate beyond what had been keyed into their databases.

At least, Kane hoped it was so. The Aegis satellites were incredible machines, and he wouldn't be surprised if they shortly showed that they were capable of more than the sum of their parts. But, he thought with a sinking feeling, that meant that people somewhere - either up here in the fleet, or down below on the surface - would die.

{{Red October now approaching the tachyon web. Impact in ten seconds.}} Byte's voice was maddeningly calm. The android was calling off what might be the Earth's death knell like a bingo number.

"Now we find out if we're as clever as we hope we are," muttered Kane.

Byte's brow creased as it concentrated on interpreting the data stream on its console. {{Impact in three seconds, two, one...}} The space between the words hung in the air forever, the time drawing out like a knife from its sheath. Then Byte spoke again. {{The Red October is through the tachyon web.}}

A dozen cheers rang out on the bridge. Kane made a fist and fiercely punched the air, knowing that a hundred thousand throats across the fleet were likely giving collective voice to a similar exultation. The math worked. The science was sound. The Red October had successfully engaged a phase-cloak and passed through the tachyon web that held the Earth in its deadly net. As they watched, the shuttle reappeared in the main viewer again, arcing down towards the bright blue Pacific.

Kane's heart surged. A little victory, to be sure, but they would all add up. Now, all they had to do was watch the satellites while the strike team did its job.

He pointed a finger at Silsby. "Put me through to the command ship."

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Location: USS Century, nearby, holding station, near-Earth orbit
Scene: Bridge


Dexter Marxx patiently ran his down the list of readiness reports from the fleet, the latest in a series of such reports that seemed never to end. One-hundred-and-thirty starships of various classes and configurations, crewed by some ninety-nine thousand personnel, awaited orders beyond maintaining the blockade around Earth.

Since her refit, the Century had been stripped of much of her firepower. Her role in any upcoming confrontation would be that of a command vessel, where the fleet's senior military officer could exercise strategic control over any battle with the Aegis satellites. The USS Demeter and USS Jenner would also be hanging back with the Century - the All-Father forbid that the Demeter be destroyed, as it would wipe out the legitimate Federation government in one stroke. The Jenner, being a dedicated hospital ship, would act as a triage unit for any surplus of casualties. The Midway-class USS Salamis, the fleet's carrier, by necessity stayed with the command group, saving her starfighter squadrons until the beginning of any battle. The USS Lowe, being an unarmed converted supply freighter, was a non-combatant.

The rest of the fleet - some one hundred and twenty-six starships - were divided into two battlegroups of sixty-three starships each. Both battlegroups were broken down into squadrons that had been designed for multi-role fleet actions - the destroyers would go in first, then the cruisers and their escorts would move to support them. Each battlegroup was to be led by one of the fleet's two Sovereign-class battleships - the USS Monarch and the USS Imperial. Although a design now sixty years old, the Sovereign-class battleship was still well-capable of operating as a command vessel in its own right, and both the Monarch and the Imperial would be responsible for interpreting and executing orders from the Century, the fleet's flagship. In the event that one of the battleships was destroyed, the Century could move forward to take its place, but if both battleships were lost (an event which would only happen if the battle was going very badly), then the fleet would regroup under one command ship.

The Phoenix, though - she was the linchpin. Since her launch two years ago, the Phoenix's existence had been the Federation's trump card that it could not find the right moment to play. Her devastating offensive firepower would be crucial to any fleet action, best used as a dynamic weapon that could respond to where it was needed most. It was thanks to the All-Father that there were no other Phoenix-class starships in existence - its launch had tipped the quadrant's naval balance of power back in favour of the Federation, but it was a curse that she had been too long outside of Starfleet's control. No doubt the Romulans and Dominion were attempting to construct something to rival her, but for right here right now, the best weapon that the Federation ever built had never even seen combat. He fervently hoped that the dreadnought would not be found wanting when the moment came.

Be at my side, All-Father, as I lead these people into battle. Give me the strength to do what needs to be done for victory. Grant me the courage not to turn away even if it means my own death.

His eyes wandered the bridge, taking in Cassidy at Ops, the Tellarite Ensign Gavok at Tactical, and Ensign Chopra at the conn. Young officers, eager for experience and glory, who had recently risen to their department head positions because their predecessors were all Neo-Essentialists. His eyes stopped their wandering when he looked at Chopra - the young Human woman bore such a striking resemblance to Breanne that he somethimes thought that the All-Father had put her on board to keep his heart strong. Indian by birth, Ensign Chopra was a skilled pilot who would make a fine command officer some day in the future, long after Dex had gone home to Vega and left Starfleet behind for the last time.

As if feeling his eyes on her, Ensign Chopra glanced at him and smiled shyly before returning to her work. The All-Father's Great Wheel never stopped spinning. Dex inwardly focused on its slow turning, over and over in an endless circle, that had no beginning, no end. The souls of the dead were spun in the wheel, entering it when they died and exiting it when they were reborn into the next life. One day, his soul would enter the Great Wheel too. Perhaps he would see Breanne again if she was still there, or perhaps she had already left it to begin a new cycle of existence somewhere in the universe. Perhaps, on some peaceful world orbiting a beautiful alien star, she was at this moment opening her newborn eyes to a new world, a new loving family, a new life.

The gruff voice of Ensign Gavok interrupted his reverie. "Admiral, message coming in from the Phoenix. Captain Kane is hailing you."

"On screen," said Dex. The main viewer winked, and the Earth disappeared, replaced by the Phoenix's bridge. Kane was another ghost from Dex's past - two decades ago, when he was her captain and had sailed her around the stars, the Century's security chief had been a young Lieutenant Michael Turlogh Kane. How time changed everything. "Michael, you have something to report?"

Kane's face was jagged with purpose, and his voice was all business. {{The Red October has successfully penetrated the tachyon web, Admiral. She'll be making planetfall in the next few minutes.}}

Dex practically leaped to his feet. "Wonderful news, Captain! My compliments to your science team! They'll win the Zee-Magnees for this accomplishment!"

{{Just doing our duty, sir. We'll keep you updated, but I recommend we give the strike team enough time to - }}

Kane's words were cut off by a series of warning chimes from Cassidy's Ops console. With the channel to the Phoenix still open, Dex crossed the Century's bridge to Cassidy's shoulder as Kane looked on from the main viewer. "Report, Lieutenant."

Cassidy's Texan drawl sounded desperate, and his blue eyes were bright with alarm as they scrolled down the data stream. "Admiral, the satellites are moving! The tachyon web is being deactivated!"

{{Impossible!}} came Kane's astonished voice, even as the Century's main viewer split itself into two screens, one showing the Phoenix's bridge, the other the planet below. But there it was, just like Cassidy was saying - all across the skies of the Earth, the golden tachyon web that had held the planet fast for the past seven months was winking out, revealing blue oceans, brown mountains, green plains. {{The strike team can't have gained entrance to Edgerton's bunker yet!}}

"Admiral!" yelled Cassidy frantically. "The satellites are powering up! Thaleron generation is underway!"

"All-Father, no!" breathed Dex. He threw a desperate glance at Kane. "Something else must have happened down there, something else that triggered them!" The thought of thaleron armageddon on the surface made him sick to his stomach, but it was now or never. There was only one way to stop the Aegis satellites from incinerating the planet's surface and killing almost forty billion Humans.

He turned on his heel to face Gavok at Tactical. "Signal the fleet! All squadrons to attack the satellite network immediately, weapons free to fire at will!" As the Tellarite moved to comply, Dex turned back to main viewer. "You heard me, Captain Kane! It's time for the Phoenix to blaze a trail! Good luck to you!"

Kane's face was set like granite as he nodded in confirmation of his orders. The screen winked off, and as it did so, Dex saw the Aegis satellites, standing starkly out against the backdrop of the blue planet below, start to maneuver gently on their invisible axes like they had all the time in the world. Their carapaces began to split open like insect skins, great mechanical arms emerging and protruding outward at right angles to their bodies, as they prepared to unleash every pent-up rad of thaleron down on the helpless planet below.

The fleet was moving too. The Monarch and the Imperial were angling for a higher orbit now, their escort ships following, even as the fleet's destroyer squadrons moved into attack formation. Within moments, the greatest battle ever seen in Earth's orbit was about to begin.

Dexter Marxx closed his eyes in one final prayer to the All-Father. He thought for a moment of Siobhan on the Zhukov, of all the other men and women that he knew scattered around the fleet. Then the killing began.

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Location: Space, the final frontier
Scene: Earth orbit


The sky of Earth - one half bright daylight, the other midnight-black, lights up in a rainbow of colours as the orbital fleet unleashes its desperate fury upon the Aegis satellites. The angry red fireballs of torpedo spreads and the bright lines of orange phaser lances are spattered across the atmosphere like spits of colour from an artist's brush, crashing into the Aegis satellites, battering the deadly machines under a sudden, co-ordinated, and withering hail of fire.

Two satellites go down immediately. One explodes in the night over sleeping Shanghai, lighting up the sky like a sunrise firecraker streaming down to Earth, a victim of the USS Monarch's awesome firepower. The other is shattered by a destroyer squadron over Sao Paolo, its thaleron generator sundered and roasted before it can unleash its deadly cargo.

The Midway-class carrier USS Salamis, holding station with the command group, launches its two-hundred strong complement of starfighters. In squadrons, the tiny single-pilot ships scream across the gulf of space to engage their targets, looking for weak spots along the satellites' hulls.

But there are many satellites in the Aegis network, and they too are equipped with their own weapons systems. In response to their programming, they activate their own individual shield generators and power up their own phaser arrays, unleashing sickly green bolts of energy that spatter out of their gullets like a cobra hawking up poison.

Those bolts of energy crash heavily upon the superstructure of many of the starships that swarm around them like buzzing insects. The USS Gandhi splashes fire in the sky as its antimatter reactor is breached with a direct hit, its nacelles exploding and the saucer burning up in the Earth's atmosphere even as a pitifully small number of escape pods blast away from the doomed starship. The Sabre-class USS Claymore is obliterated with all hands, being targetted by the full force of the satellite it is fighting.

The Monarch and Imperial gather their escorts around them and move closer to the fighting. Fire lights up the sky of planet Earth.

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Location: USS Phoenix, in the thick of it
Scene: Bridge


Kane gripped the arms of the centre seat until his knuckles were white. The main viewer showed pure chaos - swarms of starships were moving in en masse actions, desperately attacking their assigned targets. The Aegis satellites, for their part, were turning and moving slowly, independently bringing their devastating firepower to bear on anything that got too close.

The red alert klaxons were screaming in his ears. For a moment, Kane worried about the civilians quaking in their quarters below decks - by rights, they should have been evacuated to the Jenner before the shooting started, but there simply wasn't enough room. Not many starships in the fleet carried civilians, but the Phoenix did, including several children.

"Target nearest satellite!" he yelled above the hubbub. Ahead, a Defender-class destroyer - was it the USS Rampart? He couldn't be sure - took a broadside hit and sagged dangerously to starboard, the fight knocked out of her, drive plasma venting in her wake as she fell away from the fight. "All shields to front! Conn, present our bow to the target at all times!"

The Phoenix was screaming forward, her gunmetal grey hull beginning to scorch under the atmospheric shearing forces. The satellite ahead spat fire - bolts of energy leaped at the main viewer and impacted the shields somewhere below the saucer.

"Forward shields have been hit!" yelled Silsby. He paused, and Kane expected a woeful follow-up report, but Silsby let out a whoop as the impact hit stats came through to his console. "No damage! No damage! We soaked it up!"

"Stand by weapons!" snapped Kane, checking the firing solution on the small console under his right forearm. The other starships ahead were falling away now, left and right as their attack runs brough them past their target, and as the Phoenix came on, the satellite turned to bring the full range of its firepower on its new enemy.

{{Target has locked weapons on us,}} reported Byte. {{Range, seven hundred kilometres.}}

"Give 'em hell!" yelled Kane, and Silsby pushed the button to fire.

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Location: Space
Scene: The Phoenix, giving 'em hell


For the first time since its desperate launch that hot San Francisco night two years ago, the entire offensive armament of the Phoenix was unleashed in one cataclysmic volley. White-hot phased polaron beams screamed through space - if there had been any air in that vaccuum, it would have ignited in flames. Quantum torpedoes blazed in their wake, bulldozing through shields and crashing into the Aegis satellite's hull like knockout punches. Polaron cannon, mounted at strongpoints on the dreadnought's superstructure, automatically targetted and fired, sending deadly white pulses of energy to finish off whatever was left.

The shields of the targetted satellite crumpled like paper under the onslaught, and the torpedo impacts tore its hull apart. The satellite detonated in a bright green-orange fireball, the explosion tearing the thaleron generator to shreds before any of the noxious material could be created and unleashed.

The Phoenix, rocked by the fireball she created, sailed through the disintegrating rubble of the satellite and came out the other side, sending pieces of destroyed hull tritanium bouncing off her violet shield bubble and down into the atmosphere.

All around, the battle continued in bright hues of colour. The satellites, bombarded from all sides, gave as good as they got, lashing out with torpedo volleys and phaser lances of their own. Several starships went down in flames, burning up in the Earth's atmosphere as they fell.

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Location: USS Century, as before
Scene: Bridge


Dexter Marxx watched carefully through the main viewer as the battle unfolded. Precious seconds were ticking by, and despite the superior firepower of the Aegis network, the fleet was hitting them hard. On one hand, it was a glorious sight to see, something that thrilled the martial spirit of his Vegan blood. But on the other, Starfleet casualties were mounting, and there was no news coming from the surface.

He saw the Phoenix at the vanguard of the attack. The dreadnought was spearheading a group of destroyers that were following in her wake, taking a battering from one of the satellites but absorbing it all. By the All-Father, he mused, what power! If there were a fleet of Phoenixes, Starfleet would be unstoppable!

He cut off that line of thinking right away. They were fighting for freedom here, not to conquer. The Neo-Essentialists would be the ones who would use a fleet of Phoenixes to conquer the quadrant, not Starfleet. Nearby, the Demeter, Jenner and Lowe were hanging in space, silvery hulls glinting the light of the distant sun, safely out of the combat zone. It must have been difficult for the crews of those starships, seeing their comrades engaged in desperate battle nearby, but be under orders not to help.

Lieutenant Cassidy was giving him an almost-constant commentary of the battle's evolution. "Eight satellites confirmed destroyed, Admiral, twenty-one still operational."

"Status of the fleet?" Dex knew there were casualties.

"Eleven starships and twenty-two starfighters lost, sir. Casualty numbers have just hit quadruple figures. With the planet's atmopshere so close, they're burning up instead of drifting in space. Not many survivors from those who've had to abandon or eject."

Dex steadied his heart, asking the All-Father to give the souls of the dead peace as the Great Wheel inexorably kept turning. He threw a glance at Gavok at Tactical. "Make sure you keep the Demeter informed at all times. I don't want the President thinking he's being left out of the loop."

"Admiral, look!" Ensign Chopra was pointing at the main viewer.

Dex looked to where her finger led, and saw the Phoenix unleash another devastating volley at another target. Despite the satellite's efforts to avoid, the dreadnought's seeking quantum torpedoes followed it inexorably, and when they hit, the satellite detonated in a huge fireball that lit up the Century's bridge like a new dawn.

"Ninth confirmed kill, Admiral!" yelled Cassidy in exultation. He paused, then, his voice more measured as new data came in. "USS Exeter reports abandoning ship, several dozen casualties."

Dex set his jaw. Punch and counter-punch.

*********************************************

Location: USS Phoenix, as before
Scene: Bridge


"New heading! Zero-eight-five mark one-nine-zero!" Kane's eyes were flickering up and down between his small Tactical console and the main viewer. The Phoenix was acquitting herself wonderfully - two satellites destroyed, and nothing the bastards had was even scratching the paintwork. At this rate, it was only a matter of time before victory in the sky.

He thought for a moment of the Red October's crew, fervently hoping that they were well, but the imperative reasserted itself quickly, and he focused himself. In the main viewer, the Earth fell away to one side as Russ keyed in the new heading, and the great black gulf of space yawned open like a hungry maw. The image dipped, and Kane saw a flash of the command group holding station nearby, the distinctive outline of the Century among them, and then planet Earth came into view again, with a new target between the Phoenix and it.

The satellite ahead was being strafed on all sides by a half-dozen Defiant-class escorts and several starfighters, keeping it pinned while the mighty Sovereign-class USS Monarch turned slowly to bring her weapons to bear.

"Message from Commander Mwembe," said Silsby at Tactical. "He asks us to target the lower half of the satellite ahead - he'll take the upper half."

Kane nodded. "Make it so!" Nwakame Mwembe was the former ExO of the Monarch. He had suddenly found himself elevated to the centre seat when his captain, the previous commanding officer of the Monarch, had been outed as a Neo-Essentialist at Elandipole. It was a similar story on many of the fleet's starships - younger officers being thrust forward into the spotlight as the treachery of their senior commanders was exposed. Now, they were all gathered together again, fighting to restore the Federation.

"Phasers and torpedoes locked!" called Silsby.

On the main viewer, the target satellite - so generically similar to the others, but still as deadly - unleashed a lance of phased energy that incinerated five starfighters, their pilots dead and gone without warning. Kane's anger burned within him. "Fire in sequence with the Monarch - blow that fucking thing out of the sky!"

{{Captain,}} interrupted Byte from Ops. {{Two more satellites are maneuvering in this direction.}}

"I didn't think they were clever enough to reinforce one another?" asked Kane, getting to his feet and approaching the Ops station as the battle raged all around.

{{Like their earlier unanticipated activation, perhaps we have triggered a new directive in their programming,}} remarked the android. On the main viewer, the three satellites were forming up together. {{It appears the Aegis network has dynamic defence programming. The targets are combining their shield power, sir.}}

"Combining?" said Kane incredulously. He shot a glance at Silsby. "Advise the Monarch to fire her broadside immediately!"

{{Captain,}} said Byte dispassionately, {{it is too late.}}

************************************

Location: Space
Scene: The trio of satellites


The sickly-green shield bubbles of the the satellites merged and become one, a triple-strength wall of energy that stood stiffly against the shots of the swarm of escorts and starsfighters. And then...

... and then they began to change. Along the dorsal and ventral sides of each satellite, new ports appeared as their hull configuration began to transform to accommodate their new programming directives. With quick, clean movements, the three Aegis satellites joined together, top to bottom like a chain-link, pooling their resources, becoming one fused entity, one single foretress-unit, one single super-satellite.

It was a scene being repeated across the skies of Earth, to the incredulity and consternation of the Starfllet commanders witnessing it. No longer fighting alone, the silent, soulless satellites were merging, joining together in twos and threes into new machines, shifting their tactics in response to their losses, seeking to change the course of the orbital battle.

The Monarch and the Phoenix unleash their volleys, but this time, the green shield bubble of the super-satellite, although rocked and damaged, absorbed the energy thrown at it.

Then it was the satellites' turn to fire.

*************************************

Location: USS Phoenix, as before
Scene: Bridge


Kane looked on in horror as the super-satellite shrugged off the firepower of both the Phoenix and the Monarch. As if sensing the danger, the Defiant-class escorts and remaining starfighters banked hard away from the thing, creasing the edge of the atmosphere as they waited to see what would happen.

They didn't have to wait long.

"Satellite is locking weapons systems on the Monarch!" warned Silsby.

Kane's heart was in his mouth. "Keep firing! Concentrate everything we have on one area - maybe we can use sheer force to smash our way through its shields!"

{{Captain,}} said Byte, {{the satellite is firing.}}

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Location: Space, as before
Scene: The super-satellite, the US Monarch, the Phoenix


The now-giant satellite vomited forth a stream of torpedoes, bright bilious green things that scorched a dirty wake through the heavens. They were fired scattershot, aimed at everything that near enough to be in range. One impacted on a starfighter - the resulting fireball took out two nearby fighters that were too close to their companion.

The Phoenix angled up and away, the eastern coast of North America falling away beneath her, the great slate-grey conurbation of New York City visible on the surface as she veered out of the way of those killing weapons.

The USS Monarch was not so lucky. Several torpedoes crashed into her shields even as she turned away to port, bringing down her sky-blue shield bubble all along her starboard side. The battleship shuddered and groaned under the stress of the damage, but when the next wave of torpedoes battered into her hull, the ship listed dangerously to her left. A series of devastating explosions ripping through the underside of her saucer section, all along her primary hull, and worst of all, into her starboard nacelle. In a sudden explosion, the nacelle detonated, spraying drive plasma into the atmosphere like paint from an artist's palette. A spinning piece of debris spiralled crazily into her impulse engine, causing an secondary explosion that almost completely tore the saucer from the drive section.

The USS Monarch creaked and groaned, her rivets coming apart at the seams, and, caught in the gravity well of the planet beneath, she began to fall.

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Location: USS Phoenix, as before
Scene: Bridge


Kane watched helplessly as the main viewer told its grim story. The Monarch was badly damaged and was almost out of control. Sickened, he saw dozens of bodies floating in space where the satellite's torpedoes had rent her wide open. Dozens of tiny pieces of debris splattered against the Phoenix's violet shield bubble as the mighty dreadnought turned on her axis for another attack run.

"The Monarch has put out a general distress signal!" reported Silsby at Tactical. "Commander Mwenbe reports they are abandoning ship!"

Kane rounded on him. "Fire at will, Mister Silsby! Anywhere that thing generates power, take it the fuck out! Bridge to Engineering!"

[[Engineering! Maynell here!]] Jonathan Maynell's voice, wracked with tension, came over the comms.

Kane wished it was Jake. He knew Maynell was a competent officer, but there was something comforting about having the Chief Engineer to talk to, someone with the experience and leadership skill to keep one of the most critical departments on the ship going in a time of crisis. "I need more power to shields, Mister Maynell! We're going to be up against the muck in about thirty seconds!"

[[Understood, Captain. I'll divert what I can.]]

{{Captain, there are multiple escape pods launching from the Monarch,}} reported Byte at Ops. {{Her structural integrity has been fatally compromised.}}

Kane watched the unfolding scene on the main viewer, even as the satellite kept pumping phaser and torpedo hits into the stricken Sovereign-class battleship. The Monarch's other nacelle was gone now, falling sadly away into the atmosphere, and the saucer hung to the star drive by a thin thread of tritanium. All around the doomed starship, dozens of tiny escape pods were shooting away into the void like spores leaving their dead host. The vast bulk of the starship began to glow a bright orange as the Earth's atmosphere roasted it alive.

"God help them!" exclaimed Russ, even as the dozens of escape pods, each holding several survivors, began their own perilous journey down through red-hot atmospheric re-entry to the freezing ice-waters of the North Atlantic. "God help them all!"

{{Captain,}} warned Byte, {{the Monarch is breaking up.}}

There was no way to know how many were alive, how many were dead, how many had made it to the escape pods for a chance, however slim, at life. Kane imagined he heard a great screech of tortured metal as the Monarch's saucer section finally came away, and she broke in two.

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Location: Time Square, New York City
Scene: A throng of people looking up at the sky


The tens of thousands of people who had gathered in Times Square that afternoon had watched the orbital battle unfold for the past hour. They saw the flashes of phaser fire flicker up in the blue, watched the streams of torpedoes arc through the atmosphere, and many who carried vision enhancers saw the outlines of starships veering around high above them. They saw the explosions and cried out in panic, and cheered with one voice when the Aegis tachyon web dissolved.

They held their collective breath when the giant bulk of the USS Monarch fell into the atmosphere. The ship was burning, melting and disintegrating all at the same time, being eaten up by the ravenous heat friction of the planet's atmosphere. As she collapsed, she became a ball of fire, then a thousand blazing streamers of fire in the sky, then finally a myriad of shooting stars that arced their way through the firmament and down over the city towards the ocean to the east.

None of them knew the specifics of what was happening over their heads, but all of them hoped with one heart that it meant the end of the nightmare, and that those that were dying on their behalf far above would emerge from the struggle victorious.

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Location: USS Century, as before
Scene: Bridge


Dexter Marxx watched the Tactical console in growing alarm. There were two sets of icons on the grid-screen - several dozen sky-blue Starfleet deltas, each representing a starship engaged in battle, and a series of green blocks that represented the Aegis satellites.

Except that they weren't satellites any longer. With the immediate destruction of the Earth averted and their primary purpose stymied, the satellites had reconfigured themselves into orbital weapons platforms, fewer in number but deadlier in scope. Their combined firepower was devastating to any starship they targetted, and although the battle was continuing apace, the outcome was no less clear.

There was still no word from the Phoenix. Dex had hoped against hope that the Red October's strike team would have penetrated Edgerton's underwater bunker by now and ended this whole thing, but it wasn't happening. Something else had triggered the satellites into assuming an attack posture, and the possibility existed that the Red October was now lying in some deep oceanic trench or midnight-black abyssal, a smouldering wreck. Or maybe they'd gained entry to the base, but had only succeeded in triggering a security backlash, which in turn had activated the satellites to destroy the planet's surface.

Cassidy was still giving his commentary, except now the news was worse than before. "Admiral, the Monarch is gone. Our entire right flank is under threat."

Dex thought quickly. "Have the Jenner and Demeter engage full reverse at impulse power. Ensign Chopra, move the Century forward to screen their withdrawal." As his staff moved to comply with his orders, Dex checked the Tactical console again. The numbers of Starfleet deltas were dwindling, but there was more than enough of them to stay in the fight. The battle would go on.

Cassidy was right, though. The Monarch's destruction had crippled her battlegroup - some fifty surviving starships - of a command-and-control platform. Although the Phoenix could step in to cover for her, doing that would mean taking the dreadnought off the front line, thus losing the advantage of her enormous firepower. It might be possible to have the Century plug the gap and assume command-and-control of the Monarch's remaining battlegroup, but it was generally a bad strategy for the commanding Admiral to directly engage in the battle.

Silently, he thanked the All-Father that Siobhan and the Zhukov were with the Imperial's battlegroup, fighting over the Asian night sky. The fighting was hard there, but the Zhukov was still moving.

"Admiral, the Phoenix is requesting new orders," said Cassidy. "Captain Kane is asking if you want him to assume command of the Monarch's battlegroup or continue in her free role?"

Dex paused. His next decision might determine the course of the battle.

He took a deep breath before making it.

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NRPG: The orbital battle is underway, providing an urgent and (hopefully) dramatic backdrop to your efforts on the ground. The longer the battle goes on, the heavier Starfleet's losses will be, so can you all give it a bit of welly before you don't have a fleet to return to?


Jerome McKee
the Soul of Captain Michael Turlogh Kane
Commanding Officer
USS PHOENIX


"He speaks an infinite deal of nothing!"
- Shakespeare's "The Merchant of Venice", Act 1, Scene 1.117

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