© 2001 by Federation Space and the author Jon Beckett
Captain
Michael Drake, Captain of the USS Balaklava, had patrolled the borders of the
Romulan-Federation Neutral Zone for half of his 20-year career. Truth be told,
he was considered somewhat of an expert at tracking cloaked ships. Today his
skills were going to be put to the test.
“Sir, we’re currently tracking 12 Romulan ships. One heavy cruiser, two light
cruisers, 4 destroyers and 5 frigates. They’re in a tight fleet formation.”
“Well, that’s something new.” Drake said, looking to his Vulcan first officer.
Her only response was to arch her eyebrow in typical Vulcan fashion.
“Sir, they’re moving towards the Neutral Zone.”
“On view screen,” First Officer Sa’Kar ordered. The view screen came up just in
time to watch the Romulan fleet shimmer from view.
“Damn,” Drake hissed rising from the center seat. “Tactical, what have you got?”
“Um…I’m not sure sir.” The Ensign manning the tactical station said.
Drake looked down at Sa’Kar. “Recall Alpha shift,” he ordered before moving to
the tactical station. He could hear Sa’Kar executing his order. He stepped
beside the Ensign and punched in some commands. “Okay, Ensign, you see those
areas of tachyon displacement?”
“Yyyes sir.” Answered the Ensign.
Drake put a reassuring hand on the Ensign’s shoulder. He could feel the Ensign’s
muscles first contract and then relax. “Well, there’s a pretty high probability
that those areas of displacement are cloaked vessels.” Drake looked at the
Ensign’s face hoping to see some sign of understanding. He heard the turbo lift
open and noted that the first group of Alpha shifters was arriving. The Ensign’s
attention was still focused on the panel in front of him.
“Sir? Wouldn’t that mean the Romulan fleet has just crossed into the Neutral
Zone?”
Drake’s head jerked down. It took him only a second to determine the Ensign’s
assessment was correct. He turned away from the tactical officer and strode back
to his center chair.
“Red Alert! Prepare a tachyon probe.” He began.
“Shuttle bay, prepare a sensor decoy.” Sa’Kar continued.
“Arm all weapons, shields up.” Drake ordered.
“Communications, notify Star Fleet Command.” Sa’Kar directed.
“Open a hailing frequency.”
The two, commanding officer and first officer, worked like a well-oiled machine.
“Sir, frequency open.” Answered the communications officer.”
“Romulan vessels, you have crossed the Neutral Zone and are in violation of
Treaty stipulations. Turn back immediately.” There was a long pause with no
answer. With just a brief look towards the communications officer, the channel
was closed. “Okay, light them up.”
“Launch the tachyon probe,” ordered Sa’Kar.
On the view screen it only looked like they had launched a probe. At the
tactical station, however, the resulting agitated tachyon pulses clearly
revealed the Romulan ships.
“Sir, they’ve crossed into Federation space and are heading directly for our
position.”
The communications officer's voice rose above all others. “Sir, I’m picking up
reports on multiple frequencies. The Romulans have crossed the Neutral Zone at
various locations. Several Star Fleet ships have already been destroyed.”
Shock filled the members of the bridge crew. Even the Vulcan Sa’Kar sat back in
her chair, brooding. For an instant, time seemed to stop. Except for Drake,
whose mind was working in overdrive. We can’t out run them. No way we can out
fight them, but I still have a duty to perform; a duty to protect the Federation
at all costs. He looked at Sa’Kar.
“We can’t out run them.” He said, more than asked.
“Agreed,” she said.
“We have about a 0% chance of surviving.”
“.00018% to be exact.” She answered, Vulcan to the end.
“Okay, so be it.” Drake turned to his Communications Officer. “Launch a log
buoy.”
The Communications Officer nodded, “Log buoy away sir.”
“Helm, lay in an intercept course with any ship that’s in the middle of that
fleet.”
“Aye sir. Course laid in.”
“Weapons, overload the photons.”
“Aye sir, photons in overload.”
There was a brief pause while Drake reconsidered what he was about to do. He
still had his duty to perform.
“Computer, this is Captain Michael Drake, initiate self-destruct. Command
authorization Beta-Zeta Drake 18442 Alpha 9691.” He looked again to his first
officer. Without hesitation she rose to her feet.
“Computer, this is Commander Se’Kar, initiate self-destruct. Command
authorization Psi-Epsilon Se’Kar 77831 Beta 1832.”
Once more, without hesitation, the second officer rose from his station at the
helm.
“Computer, this is Lieutenant Commander Jason Jones, initiate self-destruct.
Command authorization Delta-Pi Jones 00327 Gamma 6633.”
[Self-destruct sequence confirmed. Declare the time interval.]
“Computer, initiate self destruct on my verbal command. No time delay.”
[Confirmed. Enter command word.]
“Command word…” Drake’s voice faltered and fell silent. He felt Se’Kar’s hand on
his shoulder and he looked her in the face, tears streaming from his eyes. They
had been through so much; she didn’t need to say anything. His resolve was
strengthened.
“Command word…Balaklava”
[Acknowledged.]
Drake turned to his bridge crew, tears still streaming down his cheeks. “You’re
the best crew a Captain could ask for. I’m sorry it has to end like this. As he
turned back to face the view screen the crew responded in one voice. “Long live
the Federation!”
“Helm, engage intercept course, full impulse.”
“Aye sir.”
Drake felt the hum of the impulse engines come on line.
“Sir, Romulan fleet decloaking.”
“Too late! Computer, execute Balaklava!”
It couldn’t have been timed better. The Balaklava collided with the ship in the
center of the Romulan fleet just as the self-destruct initiated. The collision
and subsequent explosion of the two heavy cruisers started a chain reaction
among the tightly grouped fleet. Ship after ship exploded, adding it’s own
strength to the shock wave of the two cruisers. In the end, one Romulan frigate
escaped, limping back to Romulan space on impulse power.
The Romulans would never gain a foothold in this sector, thanks to the sacrifice
of 2163 Federation citizens and a ship named Balaklava.