“Shields at eighty-two per cent,” Rrr reported as Atlantis rocked once more under heavy assault.

Everyone on the bridge was either seated or gripping onto some sort of support as Atlantis surged through the first exchange of weapons fire with the Dominion forces in the Leonis system as both forces finally found the range for accurate weapons fire. Even with the best sensors and targeting systems, range and mobility still meant combatants had to close range to accurately hit each other. Fire from far enough away and just being off by an arcsecond with your targeting, the enemy moving just a touch and you’d miss. But get close and sweeping phaser fire could hit not just your target but multiple enemies as well.

“Looks like Bogey One has targeted us solely,” Lin said from Tactical. “Bogey Two has lined up Admiral Ketterac.”

“Fun and games,” Tikva muttered. “Rrr, tell everyone else to get in and remove those attack fighters. We’re sticking with the plan people, so brace yourself.”

“Aye, captain I –“ The Gaen stopped in mid-acknowledgement and then rumbled loudly, something that was species and culturally equivalent to a hiss in frustration. “New contacts in orbit. Twenty orbital platforms have just come online. Designation Leo One to Twenty.”

“How the hell didn’t we see them earlier?” Tikva demanded, sitting forward in her chair, almost about to through herself to her feet but stopped as more fire raked the ship, rocking its inhabitants.

“They just came online,” Rrr said. “Papakura is taking a wing of Klingon ships and moving on them.”

“Mac!” Tikva shouted over her shoulder and through the gap in the tactical arch so MacIntyre could hear her in the Mission Operations bay towards the back of the bridge. “Send the Harpys with Papakura. I want those orbital platforms dead yesterday!”

The star system that was being used as a staging point for the hastily assembled Alliance ships didn’t even warrant a name. It barely warranted a catalogue number, but it had one anyway. A pathetic little red dwarf that would burn for the better part of eternity, a dusting of asteroids in two belts barely worth mentioning and a single little terrestrial world at the heart of the system, tidally locked to its parent and too much trouble to even do a proper survey of.

In other words, a perfect place for three disparate groupings of ships to meet while staying just off the beaten path and any likely patrols that might spot them. It was a useless ball of hydrogen burning in the infinite expanse whose only job right now was as a navigational reference.

Captain Hor’keth’s little ‘hunting party’ looked like House Lorkoth was practising fleet logistics. With thirty ships in total, it sounded more impressive than it really was. IKS Ba’korth, a modern Vor’cha-class cruiser sat in the middle of the gaggle of birds-of-prey, a couple of K’t’inga-class ships and ships that looked suspiciously close to the K’t’inga but which the computers had already identified as fleet support ships.

Even in the Empire, a logistics ship was a warship. Guess even the logistics department likes a chance to die with honour, rather than an accounting accident.

Commander Grel had managed to round up his ship’s escorts from wherever they had been hiding. Four lighter Republic ships hung around RRW Admiral Ketterac as if she was the grand lady of the ball and no one was going to be allowed near her. And to be fair, the Valdore-class ship was a handsome design.

And amid all of this sat Atlantis and Papakura, both having arrived at the same time despite the latter having stayed with Duntroon for hours before scuttling the ship and catching up. With everyone in the same place, it was time to finalise the plan for the attack on the Leonis system.

“Before we start,” Tikva said as she sat down at the table, “I’d like to personally thank you all for being here.” The head nods in response were a mix of stoic acceptance, gleeful anticipation and a couple of weary nods as glances went around the room. “And thank you for speaking with your governments. Once reinforcements arrive at Deneb, they’ll be following in our wake, so let’s give them something to follow.”

She’d opted for the lesser used, in fact to date unused, diplomatic conference room on the other side of the ship. The reasoning was that the round table present meant there was no head of the table. She’d told Fightmaster to seat herself, Hor’keth and Grel at equidistant parts and then fill the table accordingly. Admittedly the Klingon and Romulan contingents were larger than the Starfleet one, but playing nice and soothing egos was the name of the game.

“I’d like to say something too.” Commander Grel must have been a practised speaker, projecting his voice so clearly and confidently and gathering everyone’s attention by demanding it. He looked not to Tikva but to Hor’keth and the Klingons accompanying him. “I look forward to fighting alongside the forces of House Lorkoth. Death, as the Klingon saying goes I believe, is an experience best shared.”

“Ha!” Hor’keth barked. “I like him!” That earned a few nods of respect from the captain’s he had invited as part of his delegation. “Die well Romulan!”

“How about we fight well and make the Jem’Hadar be the ones doing the dying?” Tikva spoke up. She waited, having regained everyone’s attention and glad that Hor’keth and Grel had seemingly broken the ice for their respective parties, then tapped a control, the room lights coming down just a touch as a holographic system map sprung to life over the table. “The Leonis system and the site of the first allied victory.”

A dozen purple blips appeared over one of the terrestrial worlds. “Leonis Prime was occupied by Dominion forces early on and they’ve left a garrison behind for one reason or another. Last reports we have stated a single battlecruiser and twelve attack fighters in the system. Long-range scans are proving difficult as it appears the Dominion ships in the system are moving around and trying to disguise their numbers and composition.”

“What was the source of intel?” Grel asked.

“A fleeing civilian passenger ship,” MacIntyre interjected. The Romulan captains immediately all looked a bit dubious. “It’s the best we have without sending someone ahead to scout.”

“We could undertake such an operation right now,” one of the Romulan captains spoke up. “We would need a day to get there, conduct a scout run and return.”

“We’re pretty confident that Atlantis and Papakura will have been detected since we don’t have cloaks and came in pretty fast,” Tikva continued. “So, we need to move before reinforcements could be dispatched. Defeat this picket in detail, then if reinforcements are incoming, we can swing out to smash them in before we start system hopping.”

“It sounds like you already have a plan,” Hor’keth half-growled, leaning into the hologram with a predatory smile. “And Starfleet plans have a tendency to be…interesting.”

“Harpy Flight, new targets,” Commander MacIntyre’s voice cut in over the comm net for the small craft deployed from Atlantis. “Designation Leo. Papakura is breaking to engage with Wej wing. Actual wants you to support.”

“Understood,” T’Val said, her tone as unemotional as if she was simply acknowledging a report about a minor course change.

Her proposal for using Atlantis’ fighters, heavy shuttles and runabouts had been accepted by the captain and commander in the end and Harpy Flight had been expanded, if temporarily, to include the shuttles Waihou and Lesbos, as well as all of the runabouts aboard ship. All together they could make for a decent harassing force.

She’d have preferred to be aboard Atlantis right now as her senior helm officer, but the captain’s logical, if somewhat emotionally biased reasoning, had seen her once more in the seat of Harpy Two, Corfu, leading the small craft forces. She couldn’t deny the skill argument, but she’d been training her people. Trusted them to do their jobs competently, if not satisfactorily even. But in the end, Atlantis’ was heading for a brawl and fancy flying would be needed in the small craft.

She thumbed the stud on her controller to switch over to the flight comms. “Harpies, new targets. Follow Papakura and await targets.” She wasn’t waiting for Atlantis or Papakura to paint targets for her people. Harpy 2 was specifically modified for the recon role and she put those sensors to work.

“Roger dodger,” came Lieutenant Petrov’s voice over the comms. “On your tail boss.”

“Aye,” responded Shven. That accounted for the rest of the fighters. The shuttles and runabouts followed soon after as they came in behind the fighters.

She’d planned for the runabouts and shuttles to essentially be torpedo carriers, able to pelt targets the Harpys designated and strafed to bring down shields so the follow-up torpedoes could hit their targets. Now she was about to put the idea into practice. She targeted one of the platforms, brought all of Corfu’s intense sensors to bear and then passed on all of her targeting information to the larger, less nimble craft behind her. “Leo Six, target locked,” she announced. “Begin attack run.”

And with that the Valkyrie fighters sped forward, phasers spitting fire at the first Dominion orbital platform to come into their sights.

“Dropping out of warp now,” Ensign Tabaaha announced as the viewscreen reverted from streaking stars to static pinpricks of light and the blue disc of the system’s outermost gas giant just off to the left. Directly ahead of the ship, a single point of light was brighter than the rest – the star Leonis itself.

“Thank you, Ensign,” MacIntyre replied as he stood from the command seat and stepped up to the dual helm and ops stations. “Rrr, let the Harpies know they’ve got permission to start launching. And any movement from the Dominion?”

“Some,” they replied after checking their console. “Well, that’s not good.”

“Hit me with it.”

With a tap of controls and the viewscreen switched from a view ahead to a tactical display around Leonis Prime. The Dominion ships were coalescing into a single mass, a few emerging from the planet’s magnetic poles, others from behind the planet itself. Instead of the single battlecruiser and twelve fighters they had been expecting, sensors were now seeing a battleship, a battlecruiser and ten fighters.

“Bright side, there are fewer ships,” Rrr chimed in. Then their console chirped once more. The tactical display then pulled right out, the Leonis system disappearing into a vague dot on the screen accompanied by one other purple dot lightyears away. The numbers next to it however painted a pretty bad reality.

“Twenty-four ships incoming. They’ll be here about the same time as we’re engaging the picket over Prime.” Mac shook his head, stopping just as the ready room doors opened, the captain stepping out and looking straight to the tactical display.

“Well, that’s disappointing,” she quipped. “Hail Hor’keth.”

It only took a few moments for the Klingon warrior to appear on the viewscreen. “Looks like the reinforcements I feared are on their way. Twenty-four ships coming on two-seven-six mark zero-zero-nine.”

“I shall leave you two wings of B’rels and move to engage them.” Hor’keth grinned, looking like the idea of more ships to fight wasn’t a problem but an opportunity to be relished. “Today is a good day,” he paused, leaning towards the video pickup on his bridge. His eyes weren’t locked on Tikva or Mac, but past them to Lin at Tactical. “Fight well, fight without mercy. I look forward to celebrating our victory!”

And with that, the comm channel went quiet. Their sensors couldn’t detect it, and hopefully neither could the Dominion sensors, but all around the fleet, most of it under cloak, a sizable portion of the Klingon ships were breaking formation and jumping once more to warp. Their goal was to delay if not outright destroy the reinforcements incoming.

“New contacts,” Rrr announced. “Two-seven-three mark zero-one-nine.” They switched the forward view to the new contacts that were emerging from the blue clouds of the gas giant nearby.

The planet’s clouds were such a shade of blue that the first settlers in the system, upon needing names for the other celestial bodies in their system, had named the gas giant Blueberry.  It hadn’t been a real stretch of the imagination that one. But right now, emerging from the cloud depths, their drive fields disturbing the clouds more than the streamlined hulls could, were three Tholian meshweavers.

“Appointed time indeed,” Tikva said with a knowing grin to Mac. “Your girlfriend has great timing.”

“I’m going to tell Blake you said that.”

“She’s hot stuff,” Tikva quipped as she headed back for her office.

“Who is?” Mac asked Tikva’s back, the humour in his voice.

“Yes,” she responded, stopping at the door. “Call me when we’re halfway there.”

“Damn,” Kelly Tabaaha muttered under her breath, stretching out the word.

“That’s enough of that, Ensign,” Mac said. Then grinned as she looked at him with a modicum of fear, afraid she was about to get reprimanded, but confused by his grin. “Take us in, please. Three-quarters impulse and straight to Leonis Prime.”

“Starboard shields down to twelve per cent,” Rrr shouted over the shower of sparks that rained down from an overhead light. While others might have flinched, the Gaen officer didn’t even respond. “Buckling on deck fifteen, sections eighteen through twenty-six. Evacuation in progress.”

“Helm, roll her over! Get those port shields facing that battleship,” Tikva ordered from her seat. “Guns, I don’t care what you have to do, rain hell down on that thing.”

“Aye aye,” Lin responded from behind her.

This wasn’t the unfair fight when Atlantis came to the rescue of Duntroon, swooping in to save the day, a shark amongst minnows. This was more what her class was designed for – slugging matches with enemies that meant the Federation’s total annihilation. Advancements had stripped her of the title of Starfleet’s bruiser, but up against a ship twenty years out of time, she was back in her element.

The whine of phaser strips, the thud of torpedo launchers – these could be heard throughout the ship. But so could the blaring of klaxons demanding attention, critical alerts firing off as issues arose. And while she couldn’t hear it, Tikva could imagine the screams, moans and cries of the injured and the utter silence of the dead within the ship’s hull.

They’d been breached a dozen times by now. No doubt the battering they were taking was causing damage throughout the ship anyway as overloads blew conduits out, or framing members buckled and collapsed. Splinters of duranium alloy spearing their way through compartments would turn those spaces into slaughterhouses.

Against the Dominion battleship there hadn’t been much choice but to go head-on against it. It was their premier platform. The two alphas had eyed each other up from half a system away. Atlantis had drawn its fire from the start of the engagement. The first volley from the Dominion had been scattered, confused, as targets had emerged from nothingness as ships decloaked, coming in from a multitude of angles and drawing attention rapidly away from a concerted effort on the two uncloaked Starfleet ships, but that battleship had never wavered in its determination to bring down its target, just like Atlantis hadn’t either.

“We’ve got to get in behind that beast,” Tikva growled. “Helm!”

“I’m trying ma’am,” Tabaaha answered back, panic creeping into her voice. “But their screen is keeping us far enough away she can still turn with us.”

A series of violent shakes rocked Atlantis, the whole space frame moaning in protest as she bucked through the exploding remains of a Jem’Hadar fighter. Or had merely run over a crippled hulk and finished it off as shields ploughed through the hull.

The sounds of the ship then changed momentarily; the sounds she’d been getting used to that signified weapons firing ceased. She turned in her chair, looking up at Lin, who was busy looking at her tactical console, then grinned before punching in a series of commands and Atlantis renewed her assault. Quantum torpedoes belched forth in rapid first, the first such volley since the start of the fight. Phaser fire raked a singular spot on the battleship’s flank, piercing the shields, beating them back with each strike as they tried desperately to flow back over the now exposed flank.

And then the first torpedo slammed into the hull. What shielding remained there flickered and died, the hull left glowing in the aftermath. But it never got to dissipate as the next hit, ripping the purple-tinged duranium asunder. The third buried itself in the hull before detonating, bulging the entire ship outward slightly as it died. The fourth and fifth torpedoes were gratuitous overkill, but in the moment there was no such thing. They ripped the hulking mass apart in an expanding ball of plasma that immediately consumed two of the attack fighters, one of the birds of prey and one of Atlantis’ runabouts, all of their fiery plumes adding to the conflagration consuming the heart of the battlefield.

The shockwave slammed into Atlantis and sent the large ship sideways, carried upon the plasma wave, shields flaring as they tried to absorb the blast.

“Port shields down to six per cent,” Rrr announced as the ship settled, Tabaaha righting the vessel and bringing it back into control.

“Die you bastards,” Lin barked and Tikva could just see the grin.

Hot.

So hot.

Agreed.

Yup, no arguments.

Uh, what’s that?

She squinted at the viewscreen, at the speck directly in front of her, spitting forth hate at her ship. Shields flared at the onslaught and she realised what it was – an attack fighter on a head-on course. It wasn’t veering, wasn’t manoeuvring as it took fire from multiple directions. It was coming right at them.

The Dominion had just lost their command ship and were now resorting to whatever tactics they could muster to take down Atlantis. Likely all of the larger ships in this hasty little task force.

“Helm, evasive now!”