The deck plates bucked and heaved as the USS Century took wave after wave of punishment from the Vaadwaur vessels swarming all around them. Sparks jettisoned from ruptured conduits with each new hit the ship was forced to endure, smoldering slag emitting plumes of smoke into the compartment that the life support system was struggling to clear. Small flames flashed to life and withered sporadically around the room, most of them going unnoticed by the crew that occupied the space.

The usual configuration of personnel had long since disappeared, not out of convenience by necessity. The Century’s Captain stood menacingly over the tactical console, his clawed fingers clacking away as he directed the dwindling might of the Constitution III-class vessel toward their assailants. Each dot on his tactical display disappearing felt more and more like a Pyrrhic victory as more systems around his ship were taken offline or outright destroyed.

“Shields are down to twelve percent, Captain,” the detached voice of Lieutenant Commander Sorreth echoed through the bridge, “We have hull breaches on multiple decks, emergency forcefields have been erected but some have already failed. Affected areas have been sealed off.”

“Maneuvering thrusters just went down,” Commander Abigail Peters called out from her position at the only functioning console at the fore of the bridge, “Starboard nacelle is about three more hits away from going offline as well. If this keeps up, we’re going to be a floating brick.”

Captain Gar’rath snarled at all of the bad news being lobbed around the room. He hadn’t envisioned that the Century would be in such dire straits, even if their enemy outnumbered them so greatly. Their ruthlessness was obvious, and had he been on their side of the fight, it might have been something to take pride in. He was not, however, on that side of the conflict and therefore couldn’t afford to spare even a second to respect the effectiveness of their assault.

“If we’re doomed to be a floating brick, we may as well be a brick with teeth,” the Gorn growled, “Divert whatever power you can spare to the shields and weapons systems. We will take out as many of them as we can with whatever strength we have left.”

Lt. Cmdr. Sorreth nodded from his place at what was usually the communications console and began setting about the redirection of what little reserve power they had at their disposal to the systems the Captain had outlined. Cmdr. Peters didn’t respond to what was said, but Gar’rath could see the woman’s shoulders tense up a bit as she continued the seemingly vain struggle to keep their ship mobile.

Small flickers in all of the consoles around the bridge caught the attention of the gathered crew almost immediately. Inputting commands started to lag behind actual execution, translating into phaser fire skewing off course just enough to turn a fatal impact into a glancing blow or power allocations arriving just a second too late to actually be effective.

“What’s happening to our systems?” Gar’rath asked, anger tangible in his voice.

The Vulcan traced the issue to the source and declared, “The main computer core appears to have suffered damage from an internal explosion.”

Before he could stop himself, Gar’rath slammed a fist against the upper portion of the station he was currently manning leaving a noticeable dent in it, “How did they manage to get past our security teams?”

“Unknown,” Lt. Cmdr. Sorreth responded, “And I am having a difficult time accessing internal sensors.”

“You’re saying they’ve blinded us?” Abby asked, turning toward Sorreth. Before the Vulcan could muster any sort of response, the entire bridge went white. Thunderous sound buffeted every body in the room, scorching heat assaulting them as debris rose up from the deck beneath their feet. Screams of agony escaped a number of the crew as they were thrown violently about the space like ragdolls, helpless to resist the overwhelming force of destruction that had so suddenly and cruelly visited itself upon them. And then… silence…

Deeper within the ship, Lieutenant Khar and the few security officers who had managed to make the push all the way to Sickbay now stood outside the single entry, phasers lighting up the corridors in angry defiance of the Vaaudwaur tide that seemed hellbent on crushing them. Each officer was pressed against the bulkhead, using even the smallest outcropping of metal as cover against the throng of polaron bolts being launched at them.

The exchange of fire continued to rage, Vaadwaur dropping to the deck only to be replaced by another… and then another. The shaking of the ship seemed to accentuate just how desperate the situation had become, with each buck of the bulkheads feeling like a portent of the end. Lt. Khar, however, had long stopped noticing the heaving deck of the rattling of the panels lining the corridor. His only concern, the single detail he allowed himself to focus on, was the fight in front of him. When his eyes caught a hint of movement, his fingers would react, pressing the actuator that unleashed bolts of deadly energy from the phaser rifle being held in a near-death grip. Shouts, screams, and clattering of dropped weapons blended into the background that the Klingon had long stopped registering after making it to the threshold of Sickbay.

At some point Vaadwaur stopped coming around the soft bend in the corridor, though Lt. Khar didn’t realize if for a much longer time than he might have otherwise. His haggard breathing started to fill his ears as the tension started to dissipate. He slowly eased his body away from the corridor wall that had been keeping him upright and stable as he’d fired down the corridor he was still staring down intently. The Klingon began to slowly advance, watching and waiting for another Vaadwaur to appear, another weapon to be aimed in his direction… and soon found that none were forthcoming.

The corridor beyond the pile of Vaadwaur bodies was empty, the eerie shadows being cast by the blinking red strobes of the alert strips were the only things to be seen. Sounds began to register again in the Lieutenant’s ears as he turned to see his security team slumping to the floor in utter exhaustion. They had fought well and the glory of victory was theirs, if only momentarily. It would have been something to celebrate if that had been the end of it, but the shuddering of the corridor told everyone gathered in that small space with the Klingon that the fighting had simply moved elsewhere and nothing more.

Lt. Khar lowered his phaser and turned, trudging stiffly back to the entryway that led into Sickbay. He tapped on the access panel by the door, entering his security override code to grant him and his team entry. Several teal-clad officers stood a few paces away, hand phasers pointed at the door. Their looks of determination melted into relief when the figures that had been revealed to them were friend and not foe. Each of them holstered their weapons, rushing over to the wounded security team to administer what care they could to get them back into fighting shape, if only temporarily.

“Lieutenant,” Lieutenant Commander Reli Odaim approached the Klingon, medical tricorder in hand, “Are you injured?”

“I took some shrapnel to my back on the bridge, and a few rounds of weapons fire got closer than I would have liked…” Khar admitted grudgingly.

“If the sounds coming from the corridor are any indication, you’re in much better shape than you could have been in,” the Betazoid said with a lopsided smile.

“Indeed…” the Klingon responded, shifting uncomfortably as the doctor waved the small diagnostic probe around his head and shoulders. As the woman worked, the room’s lights dimmed noticeably, prompting the two to look upward with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Khar was the first of the two to act on the bad feeling that had been inspired by the flicker.

“Lieutenant Khar to the bridge…” the man said after slapping his commbadge. The silence that ensued made his jaw clench. “Bridge, respond!” came a much louder demand before the Klingon looked to the doctor. He watched as her eyes widened in a display of sudden panicked realization.

“I… I can’t hear any of their thoughts…” Reli said, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. Lt. Khar didn’t wait for her to say anything else, that was enough to drive him to rush back out into the corridor. Several of the less injured security officers rushed to follow him after having heard the exchange. The rest of the gathered crew watched them go, pangs of fear echoing in their hearts at what might have happened.