“You’re right, I hate this plan,” Tikva said in response to Rrr’s quick outline of the plan they and Gabs had devised. Of course, ‘I hate this plan’ was somewhat dented by the broad smile that formed on her face.

“It does seem exceedingly dangerous,” Kendris added, her expression quickly growing concerned when she noticed Tikva’s smile. “Foolhardy and likely to get us killed, yes?”

“Let’s do it,” Tikva announced.

That was ten minutes ago and Kendris’ position hadn’t shifted. If anything she had grown further concerned regarding the reckless nature of the plan. She’d voiced her concerns with Velan when the chief engineer had arrived on the bridge, summoned by Gabs’ request. “It’s risky,” he had said, nodding in thought. “But doable.”

“Doable?” Kendris countered. “Metaphasic shields on a starship this large?”

“They’ve been standard since…the Intrepid-class?” Velan answered, unsure of the specifics.

“Enterprise-D first used starship scale metaphasics,” Rrr answered from across the bridge. “Used them to lure a Borg ship into a stellar corona to blow it up.”

Kendris shook her head in disbelief at the bridge full of officers agreeing with the plan. The entire senior staff of the Atlantis were all in agreement to do something so stupid. She was left with no recourse but to go along with it. “This is madness.”

“It’s Tuesday,” Tikva answered with a wink as she sat herself down in the centre seat. “Sit down Commander, we’ll let the kids run the show.”

“Kids?” Velan charged. “You’re barely, barely older than the rest of us.” He snorted derisively at Tikva’s waving him off, then turned to Gabs, who was hovering by the helm, bringing T’Val up to speed on what she needed to go. “Well Commander Camargo, your plan, your show.”

“Wait, me?” Gabs countered. “Uh, Okay.” He barely had time to react to Tikva’s tossing of the ship’s keys, catching them with both hands and clutching them to her chest for a moment. She looked down at them, gulped, then pocketed them. “Lieutenant T’Val, set course for the system primary, best possible speed. Lieutenant Ch’tkk’va, shields to maximum.”

It had only taken one very short and very precise warp jump to move Atlantis from CR-718’s nice safe orbit around its lonely star to a distance where warp drive wasn’t advised. It had then taken the better part of fifteen more minutes to close further with the star.

Gabrielle Camargo, instead of taking her normal place at one of the science stations, had opted for hovering over Rrr and T’Val’s shoulders at the front of the bridge, alternating from one to the other as she observed their work, the readouts on their consoles, all without saying anything. “Commander Velan,” she said without looking at the Efrosian officer, “how are the shields looking?”

“Metaphasic shield program is online and operational,” he answered. “Heat and radiation bleed through are within tolerances.”

“And how long does that give us in this environment?” Kendris asked, worry and concern still in her voice.

“At current rates,” Velan turned his seat around to smile at her and the captain, “five days, give or take a few hours.”

“You have shield technology that lets your ships hide in stellar coronas for days at a time?” Kendris asked to Tikva. “And you’re just showing me this?”

“Not exactly a state secret,” Tikva answered. “Well, not this use and implementation at any rate.”

“Naturally,” Kendris replied. “No wonder none of you were concerned with this mad plan.”

“Oh, it’s still a mad plan,” Tikva answered.

“There,” Gabrielle exclaimed as she jammed at one of the readouts at Rrr’s station. “Right there, send those coordinates over.” She gestured to T’Val as she was working around behind the Vulcan helmswoman. “Get us as close as you can to that sunspot Lieutenant.”

“I shall try,” T’Val, “but the magnetic field eddies are starting to adversely impact impulse control.”

The visual filter on the viewscreen was showing them a purely rendered version of the star’s surface, the intense light at this distance purely deadly on its own. Roiling seas of churning plasma, writhing under convection and twisted at the whims of magnetic field lines, invisible to the naked eye save for its impact on the star’s surface. A patch of that plasma sea was rendered darker than the rest, magnetic lines stealing energy from the hydrogen gas, rendering the surrounding area cooler than the rest of the surface – a sunspot.

“Ra, bring the driver coil to pre-warp levels and leave it there,” Tikva ordered. “Should give T’Val the extra weight reduction to make impulse control and RCS a bit more effective.”

“It’s not meant to stay at that level for more than a few seconds,” Ra protested but made the changes anyway. “Make it quick.”

“We’re five hundred kilometres above the magnetic anomaly,” T’Val announced. “Holding position.”

“Ch’tkk’va,” Gabs spun around to face the Xindi-Insectoid behind the tactical arch. “Now.”

“So, what plan is it that we have the Dominion and the Klingons to thank for?” Tikva asked, seeking clarification.

“To be fair ma’am, the Dominion were less than willing participants.” Rrr’s rumble carried the hint of mirth.

“Oh no, how sad, never mind.” Tikva’s ability to feel sympathy for the Dominion was the next best thing to non-existent at the moment. First Deneb, then their involvement with the Borg attack on Frontier Day. “Continue.”

“Ever heard of the Monac Shipyards?” Rrr asked, then continued anyway. “Dominion shipyard in Cardassian space during the Dominion War. Was a key facility of theirs producing ships by the batch lot.”

“Destroyed by a Klingon task force yes?” Kendris asked.

“No ma’am, just one ship.” Rrr let that settle for a moment. “IKS Rotarran snuck into system and induced a solar flare that engulfed and consumed the station completely.”

“And you want to induce a solar flare aimed at CR-718? Won’t that destroy the station?” Kendris turned from Rrr to Tikva. “Your people are still aboard.”

“Shipyards tend not to have shields,” Tikva responded. “And CR-718’s shields are vastly overpowered.” She thought for a moment. “And this should upset subspace comms?”

“That and hopefully trigger automatic safeguards that shut down the transmission arrays for safety purposes.”

Gabs then spoke up. “But to really help it along, I want to fire a tricobalt charge into a sunspot. The detonation will spread tricobalt resin that the plasma wave will carry, which will really mess with subspace comms.”

The only tricobalt charge carried aboard Atlantis launched forward from the ship’s forward torpedo launcher, slower than a torpedo but just as determined in its path. It was designed that way to give anyone who fired such a device as a weapon time to clear the blast range. Atlantis however wasn’t running to clear the tricobalt blast, but the far, far scarier plasma front that was about to erupt from the star.

The coronal mass ejection that had been modelled would overwhelm even the metaphasic shields, bathing the ship in enough heat and radiation to kill everyone onboard nearly instantly, as well as wreck every sensitive system across the entire ship.

“Detonation in ten seconds,” Ch’tkk’va announced.

“Faster would be better,” Rrr grumbled to T’Val at his side.

“Indeed,” T’Val replied blithely. “Perhaps if you stepped outside it would lighten the ship.” Her focus never wavered from her controls, her hands flying over inputs as she managed the ship through the star’s corona and the bucking from turbulent solar winds.

“I’ve got a warning on the subspace driver coil,” Velan announced. “I’ve got to dial it back or we’ll burn it out.”

“I still need it,” T’Val countered.

“But –“

“Four more seconds Ra,” Tikva cut him off.

“Detonation in three…two…one,” Ch’tkk’va counted down, switching the main viewscreen to a rearview as they did so.

There was also no visual on the tricobalt charge, its drive lights have vanished against the brilliance of the star’s surface. The detonation itself was also subsumed, barely a flicker of light against the brilliance. But a second later the effect was noticed. The darker sunspot dimmed further, then the surface brightened considerably and rapidly, the skin of the star rupturing as a column of superheated plasma launched itself from the star, guided along the magnetic fields as it spewed forth and towards CR-718.

“We’re clear” T’Val announced, causing Velan to spin to his station and execute his own commands in rapid succession. “Setting course back to CR-718.”

“Get us back there and in the lee of the station ASAP. We’ll use it as a sun-shield,” Tikva ordered. She stood and walked forward, a hand resting on both Gabs and Rrr’s shoulders. “Nicely done you two.”

“Well, it’s not quite a supernova,” Gabrielle responded. “But I understand finesse is more complicated.”