//------------------------------//
// Chapter Twenty One- The Day of the Hawk 
// Story: STAR TREK: EQUESTRIA 
// by Alicorne 
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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE



THE DAY OF THE HAWK



“Personal log stardate 1004.3, Commander Starry-Eyes recording. The Hermes is on course for the Equestrin Colony in Cruise Mode at Time Warp Factor Seven, all systems optimal. At 0652 hours this morning we received communications from Starfleet Command regarding a minor change to our Mission Profile. The Ambassador from Equestris, Ms. Hammer Hoof, has declared that the Colony of Equestris, in tribute to the voyage of the Hermes and as a mark of devotion to the Federation itself, has offered a gift of a complete set of dilithium crystals for our ship. The Federation Council has asked that we divert from our planned course to rendezvous with the Colony at our earliest convenience to accept this generous gift. Chief Engineer Jerry-Rig assures us that at Warp Seven we can divert to Equestris for two days and get back to our scheduled locale with no time lost.
On a personal note, I’m thrilled to death at the prospect of seeing Home again. I haven’t been there in over a decade. I’m really looking forward to seeing Daddy again and introducing him to my wife… and Tyllae!
On the subject of Tyllae, the DNA tests Sunny performed on her blood indicates that she is completely related to every other lifeform presently living on Earth even down to the ambiguous ‘magic’ genes in her genome. She is, in fact, what she says she is; a living, breathing representative of a world that has for thousands of years been thought to be mere legend. The implications are astounding. … I hope we can keep the little tyke from being cooped up in a laboratory for the rest of her life being quizzed and studied by the time we get back. Nopony should have to endure that and I’m sure she wouldn’t.
Commander Starry-Eyes, out. Copy all but second paragraph to Science Officer’s log.” I thumbed off the recorder at me station and settle back, pleased. It was nearly the end of another uneventful watch. Oh, Astrometrics had some anomalous  readings on a few distant starts that weren’t quite where they were supposed to be, but that was probably just the result of some errors on the part of the civilian Traders who’d done a rough job of charting this area of space decades ago. We’d be out there in a few weeks to nail down their positions and get them properly charted. Just more routine cruising for the Hermes, easy-peasy!
Sunny had found an excuse to wander onto the Bridge to wait for me to end my watch. (Tyllae was with Bob in the Galley. Turned out that there were going to be raisin-oatmeal cookies for dessert and he thought Tyllae, cookie expert extraordinaire, should be on hand to make sure they were up to standards!) To while away the time while she waited she’d brought along a padd programmed with a selection of crossword puzzles she’d been working her way through since the trip started. Just then she’d propped herself against my console and frowned over her padd, pausing to ask every so often whoever was paying attention for an x number letter word that meant whatever. Merry was no help, offering comic puns and double entendres for a quick laugh. Caper would chew over a clue for awhile while he lounged in his chair and more often than not would give her the word she needed. She’d stopped asking me when I told her a seven letter word for somepony who was making a nuisance of themselves was ‘Alicorn’. The way her tail kept flirting with my leg told me there were no hard feelings!
The Long-Range Sensors beeped for my attention and I gave Sunny a poke to her Cutie Mark to make her shift over. Ducking my muzzle down, I peered into the soft blue haze of the 3-D display and had a look at the data coming in.
The Long-Range Sensors were on Cruise Mode, passively scanning an area radiating fifteen light years around the ship. Mainly they are on the lookout for changes is star position from designated star charts, new astronomical phenomena, and, as in this case, unnatural energy readings. At the fringe of our detection radius was a subspace distortion, a classic indication of a Time Warp Field in flight! I focused more of our Sensory on it and the image built up. I saw a substantial Warp Field take shape and began getting information on radiated emissions…
Caper had apparently caught my motion out of the corner of that third eye in the back of his head all the really competent officers have. From the volume and clarity of his voice I deduced that he must have swiveled his chair in my direction.
“Is something, Commander?”
I paused just a moment to soak up a little more information before replying. “Long-Range Sensors have picked up a starship. Three light-years out, moving at a speed of Warp five point oh-one on a course that is roughly convergent to our own on two planes. Fifteen megacochranes of field strength with no indication of magical enhancement. Whatever it is, it isn’t one of ours. I’d say it’s just about the same size as us, plus or minus five percent.” I tied in the Ship Recognition Manual and turned to face Caper. “The Computer is looking for a match in the Federation Database.”
Caper nodded. “Do they seem to be aware of us?”
I shook my head, “Unless their sensors are better than ours, and we have a vastly enhanced sensor suite, we should still be light-years beyond their range. I’m detecting relatively low levels of active scanning. It’s my guess they are in Cruise Mode like us. They’ve neither changed course or upped their scanning.” My board beeped for my attention again and I turned back to my display as the information built up. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Sunny put her padd on my console as she chimed into the discussion.
“Well since yon ship isna one o’ ours p’raps we should exercise some o’ th’ famous Federation Diplomacy n’ pop over t’ say hello. Seems pretty straightforward enough. Steady as she goes’ n’ all that. First star t’ th’ left n’ straight on till mornin’!” I gave her bottom another poke to shut her up and got a flick of a tail in, ah, rebuttal. (The Mare in my Mind frowned at the pun!)
“Please to put our location on Main Viewer, Commander-pushka.” Caper drawled.
I forwarded the information and spun in my chair to address the Bridge.
The Main Screen showed a schematic of a region of space ten light-years by ten light-years gridded off in one light-year squares. Along the bottom and up the right side of the picture ran an irregular line that formed the Federation border consisting of the space claimed by the Andorians and Tellarites respectively. High on the right side the Equestris Colony was highlighted eight light years from the nearest Tellarite world, Ghooran. The void between the borders represented space that had not been officially charted and explored by the Federation, though Traders had been feeling out the space for years. A half-dozen non-aligned worlds, depicted as blue points, were scattered within it, ports of call for these very Traders. Six-tenths of the way across this expanse was a blinking white pip with  a directional arrow labeled ‘NCC-585 Hermes’ that was tracking steadily toward Equestris.
I cleared my throat. “What we’re seeing is a representation of unexplored space on the Federation border between Andorian and Tellarite space that we’re currently star mapping. The six worlds on the display are trading partners with Federation. Stellar Cartography section had located four more M to N-Class worlds as yet unexplored.” I reached to touch a control and four yellow points labeled with sector coordinates sprang into view. “The lack of electromagnetic signals indicate that these are habitable but uninhabited worlds. In a few weeks we’ll be making flybys of these systems to gather more data for later missions to investigate. We’ll be spending our time considerably farther out!” This close to the border, the Federation would send other vessels. The Hermes was bound for more distant parts! “The vessel we’ve picked up is here,” I toggled a switch and a yellow pip with a directional arrow pointing down and to the right towards the Tellarite border sprang into view three squares away. “… on a course that will eventually take it into Federation territory in Tellarite space. The pip, labeled ‘UNKNOWN’ blinked and tracked more slowly than our own. The projected paths would nearly cross in the next hour or so. My console made a noise and I bent over my viewer again.
“The Federation database,” I announced. “Has made an identification of the ship.” I tabbed another control and turned to face the display. The white pip had turned red. “It comes up as being identical to a Klingon ship type designated by Federation Intelligence as a Frigate, F-5 class.”
Evee raised her eyebrows and Caper chewed the inside of his lip.
“Touchy lot, them Klingons!” Merry observed as the red, ‘KLINGON F-5’ pip wended its way on the screen. “Gotta wonder what they’re doin’ out this way, though…”
“What are ye lookin’ so grim for?” Sunny wondered. “P’raps they’re out explorin’ th’ same as we. Last I heard we’re no at war wi’ th’ Klingons!”
“Neither are we at peace.” Caper grunted. “Treaty exists that says we must respect each other’s boundaries. In deep space we have agreed to be… non-hostile.”
“The Klingons,” I told Sunny. “Work differently than us. As far as we can see they do no indulge in gathering abstract knowledge for its own sake. They are… ruthlessly practical in their dealings with other species. They don’t explore, they conquer. They’ve enslaved entire cultures to provide resources for their Empire. To my knowledge there is no such thing as a Klingon Research Starship. They have no analogue to our Starfleet. Their Deep Space Fleet is an organ of their Military Forces and their Military is their Government. In short, they are the antithesis of us. Really! Don’t you read any of your briefings?”
“I read th’ important stuff.” Sunny declared loftily. “We know that yon Klingons have a higher metabolic rate, more efficient digestive system, and are carnivores. Starfleet Medical knows enough how to treat then if they’re injured. It’s up to you lot t’ make sure neither of us get t’ th’ point o’ shootin’ at each other.” She ruffled and resettled her wings defensively.
“ Sentiment that Klingons do not seem to share.” Caper observed dryly. “Klingons are notoriously confrontational.”
“They have an aggressive psychology n' they respect strength n’ martial virtues. Y’ see! I do keep up on things!” Sunny stuck her tongue out at me briefly before adopting a more refined expression for the rest of the Bridge. “Th’ Xenopsycolological database makes note o’ th’ fact that, fer all their bluster, they can be reasoned with as long as ye keep that in mind. What ever happened t’ ‘everypony deserves a chance’?” She gave me a poke on the arm.
“They are most definitely NOT Ponies.” I stated flatly. “They’re just a cut above Romulans from all accounts. They haven’t moved overtly against the Federation because they appreciate that we’re capable of mauling them in a real war to the extent of destabilizing their Empire. They’ve been trying in other ways like diplomatic channels by making the Federation seem weak and feeble to non-aligned worlds through widespread an ‘unofficial’ propaganda. And Klingon ships have been implicated in several acts of deep space piracy… that their government disavows, of course. They’re more subtle than the Romulans, they have more resources at their disposal so they figure they can maneuver less openly. They are a threat… or, at least, they have the potential to be.”
“It behooves us then, t’ gi’ th’ laddies th’ benefit o’ doubt till they do summat overt, dunnit? If Discord could be made t’ see reason so can th’ Klingons.” Sunny said patiently.
“The best thing you can say about Klingons is that they’re not Romulans. They’re nothing but murderers and pirates, you know. The next war will be with the Klingons.” The unexpected voice made us all turn and look.
Guiding Star is the quietest and most laid-back Pony I’ve ever met. He’s not shy or introverted. By all accounts he just doesn’t have anything to say! He’s in love with being out among the stars and does his job almost reverently and I’ve never heard his voice raised in anger. Next to Little Rock he’s the most laconic Pony I know. …Neither is he politically opinionated, which made his quiet statement all the more surprising.
He didn’t move the rest of his body. Only his head half-turned to cock an eye at the rest of the Bridge. “Talking reason to somepony is all well and good… providing that that pony is willing to listen. I’m just saying, is all.” His head turned back to his board, then to the Main Viewer. “Our courses will converge in ten minutes and seventeen seconds Sir, Ma’am.”
“Oi! There y’are, Star! Thot Oy saw ya come in!” Merry leaned over and waved comically. “ ‘Ere, do us a solid ’n tone it down a titch, eh? Some ponies ‘re trying to work ‘ere!” She gave him a thumbs up that he seemed to ignore.
“Any you would know about work how?” Caper raised an eyebrow at the Communications Officer who promptly started tapping out a beeping medley on her board with an unrepentant grin. He swiveled his chair toward the rest of us.
“ ‘Twould seen th’ propaganda’s alive n’ well on both sides.” Sunny commented dryly.
“Both sides have room for improvement, Good Doctor. To be sure there is mistrust and lack of understanding between Federation and Klingon Empire.” He shrugged his wings. “Is job for diplomats. But, am nothing if not sociable Pony! In interests of interstellar friendship and harmony am not for one not adverse to dropping by to say hello… especially to Klingon vessel so far out of Klingon territory, da? Helm, lay in intercept course. Communications Officer! Please to stop making nonsense noises on board and send following message…”
Merry tabbed a control on her console with a grin. “Ready to record at your station, Skipper!”
Caper gave a long-suffering grunt quietly, then activated the comm station on the arm of his Command Chair. “This is Captain Cloud Caper of Federation starship, Hermes, to Klingon vessel near Federation border. We are en route to your position and were wondering if we could come alongside and talk for little bit, da? Am standing by for your reply.” He nodded to Merry who closed the circuit and popped her earpiece into her ear.
“Transmittin’ now. They should get it in about ten seconds at this range, Skipper.”
Caper nodded and grunted. “ Signal Yellow Alert. Advise phased-balefire and torpedo stations to prep their batteries but stop just short of activation. Same message to shield crew. Wish to be ready at moment’s notice if necessary. Advise Engineering.” He nonchalantly noticed Sunny’s arched eyebrow and swung in her direction. “We are friendly, Good Doctor, but not stupid. Am reasonable Pony who is not willing to take unreasonable chances when dealing with Klingons. As Leetle Pooka would say, ‘Nyet, nyet, nyet!’ ”
“It seems t’ me that there’s morena wee bit o’ tactics bein’ talked for a simple social call.” Sunny crossed her arms and sniffed.
“Is old Rushin proverb, Good Doctor. ‘ Are old Captains and bold Captains, but there are no old, bold Captains.’ Please to exchange ‘reckless’ for ‘bold’ and draw own conclusions.” He waggled a forefinger at her and swiveled to face me. “As long as somepony mentioned ‘tactics’ , Commander Starry-pushka, what does database say of armaments of F-5?”
I reached for the control but was distracted by a change in my display. “Just a moment, Captain. The Klingon has changed course.” I bent over the viewer and peered inside, studying the readout. “… The Klingon vessel is steering a series of overlapping switchback turns.” I looked up at him. “It’s going ‘Crazy Khaless’.”
Caper grunted and nodded and Evee smirked silently. Sunny stomped a hoof irritably.
“Would I be breakin’ some Militry protocol t’ ask t’ be let in on th’ joke?”
“This kind of behavior has been observed in Klingon ships before, Sunny.” I soothed. “It would seem that their Sensory is most accurate forty percent starboard and port of their forward direction. When surprised… like by us, apparently… Klingon ships steer a search pattern doubling back on their previous course to bring their best sensors to bear until they locate the target. The ship acts like it’s gone crazy trying to catch its own tail. ‘Khaless’ is some important figure in Klingon culture. The maneuver was given the nickname ‘Crazy Khaless’ by Federation Intelligence.”
“O’ course it was!” Sunny rolled her lovely eyes. “It seems t’ me that if we put as much effort into gettin’ t’ know these laddies as we did a-spyin’ on them we’d be that much farther along into a peaceful relationship!”
Caper lounged in his seat and regarded Sunny patronizingly… something he was well aware… irked her to no end. “Is your first voyage into deep space, Doctor. Few Ponies get to be out here to see reality as opposed to information in public database. Klingon borders against Romulan border. Klingon ships very scrupulous about our respecting Klingon Space… and were of no help against Romulans! Politics are real and not some idealistic desire on part of uninformed Civilians. Galaxy is hard place, da? People like Klingons and Romulans are why. Federation does not start wars. Is our part to discourage others from trying to start them by not behaving as easy target. Again, we are not stupid or aggressive… we are vigilant! Is big difference as even Doctor Ponies can see, nyet? You were about to say, Commander…?” He kicked his chair a few degrees over to me, leaving Sunny to formulate a suitable acidic reply.
But before I could even speak, Merry butted in.
“ ‘Ere! Pardon me, you lot. Engineering and Tactical reported ready a few seconds ago, Skipper. All decks rigged for Yellow Alert.”
Caper cocked an eye to the chronometer and gave a pleased grunt. “Very good! Signal Captain’s compliments to all departments for being on ball. … Let us hope is just another drill, da?”
Sunny had mustered up a reply but I gave her a poke in the ribs to shut her down. “As I was going to say, the database reports that the F-5, like all Klingon warships mounts disruptors as its main armament. (‘Think of it as shotguns versus our rifles.’ I said aside to Sunny.) In this case there should be two banks of one weapon each with a one hundred and eighty degree forward firing arc ahead of the ship effective out to eighty thousand kilometers. It also mounts a half-dozen short-range phased energy weapons similar to our phased-balefire weapons, without the magical enhancement of course, effective to about twenty thousand kilometers. Intelligence speculates they either lack the ability to project phased energy farther or that the Klingons have developed the system for dealing with multiple, smaller targets. Both weapon systems’ lethality fall off rapidly at longer ranges. Standard Klingon operations call for formations of three ships acting in unison. In addition there will be one or possible two launchers deploying a short-range, warp-capable missile able to deliver a ten to fifteen megaton antimatter warhead. They do not seem to have developed photonic torpedo technology. Their ship outmasses us by about three thousand metric tons with nearly three times our crew compliment including several Marine boarding parties. Klingons seems to prefer boarding and taking ships when they can for reasons we can only guess at. Finally, their shields are strongest in the forward hemisphere. Since most of their weaponry is oriented in the same direction this is reasonable given their penchant for close-in fighting. In a straight fight at medium-to-close range we’d be in real trouble. Our shields are stronger and more comprehensive, but their weapons recharge faster and there are more of them. If it comes down to it we should keep them at arm’s length and try to get behind them. Unfortunately for us, the F-5 is nearly as agile as we are. Fortunately for us we have a much stronger capability for electronic warfare than they do.” I folded my hands in my lap as I finished my report.
“Oi, Doc!” Merry chortled. “Oy can’t see through all that mane. Are her ears Pony-shaped or they round an’ fuzzy?”
Never slow for a comeback… especially at my expense… Sunny back with, “Sure n’ some of her best attributes are verra round, indeed! … N’  wi’ pointy bits, too, now that I come t’ think on it! But no like her ears by any means!”
I narrowed my eyes and casually stomped on her hoof to shut her up and got switched by her tail in response.
Caper tactfully ignored all that. “Is why she is Number One Science Officer, da? Send to Klingons our bearing so they know where to look. Is nice to know our Sensory is much stronger than theirs, nyet? …Speaking of this, there is no reason to leave ourselves open to casual scanning eh, Starry-pushka?”
“I read you loud and clear, Captain!” I reached over and began shunting extra power to the navigational deflector, a dedicated item of our shielding that keeps space debris from out of the way of the ship. No ship, even at impulse speeds, turns it off since even a hoof-sized rock moving at eighty percent of 'c' packs a terrific wallop with the potential of damaging the hull. Not meant for combat, it’s extremely directional and has a pretty limited energy capacity. We found out during our time with the Romulans that if we reinforced the circuitry and tweaked the frequencies we could broadcast a cone of ‘white noise’ that made us harder to scan by other ships. It wasn’t on par with Romulan countermeasures by any stretch of the imagination, but it kept us from sticking out on their sensors quite so much. It gave us the edge in a lot of encounters and the same trick would work now and keep the Klingons from picking up much on their passive scans. At close range against active scanning it was worthless… but if they were actively scanning at close range we were in a fight already!
“Now what’re ye up to?” Sunny wondered, then looked down at her feet. “Och! Ye scuffed me bloody boot, ye great cart-horse!” She whispered accusingly.
“Then keep my personal topology out of casual conversation on the Bridge!” I hissed back. Then, louder, “I’m upping the power to the Navigational Deflector to keep the Klingons from getting too good a look at us. Star? I’m going to need you to keep the Klingon within thirty-five degrees dead ahead of us for this to work, ok?”
“Roger that, Commander. Just like in the old days. Intercept in less than one minute.” Guiding Star said placidly.
“Any reply from Klingons?” Caper wondered.
“Not yet, Skipper. No doubt they heard us. I coulda picked up that call in a museum with a metal coat hanger in my hoof facin’ the wrong direction!”
I peered into my viewer again. “The Klingons have dropped to sublight and turned in our direction, Captain. They’re running with minimum shields. As far as I can make out their power systems are on standby, too. The generated energy capacity is available but not allocated yet.”
“ N’ th’ trust goes round n’ round!” Muttered Sunny.
“Hush, Sunny.” My Darling stuck her tongue out at me but held her peace.
“Very good, Commander.” Caper ignored the byplay. “If situation deteriorates, if, Good Doctor, full sensor probe of Klingon vessel at full power at earliest convenience. Will interfere with their shooting at us as well as picking up worthwhile information maybe, da?” I nodded and made adjustments to my board.
Merry’s hoof went to her earpiece. “Incomin’ transmission from Klingon vessel, Skipper!”
Caper straightened in his seat. “Put on buddy-buddy faces, everypony! Please to put on Main Viewer, Merry.”
The image that sprang to life on the screen was all the more alien because of its familiarity, it was so Pony-like. The Equinoid that regarded us speculatively from the screen had a dull brick-red coat that seemed to be oiled with a deep black mane that was cropped close into a stiff crest that also gleamed with some sort of dressing. His eyebrows, though not a bushy as Capers, were thick and coarse. They slanted up above each eye and hooked slightly back down at the ends ending in little tufts, just long enough to look disturbingly unnatural. (“Said the eight-foot tall, five hundred pound Equestrin.” The Mare in my head commented. “Keep an open mind!” …I sent her a nasty text message that made her tsk and shake her head!)
At the end of his muzzle he sported a pair of thin, wiry moustaches that reminded me of nothing so much as those on a catfish I saw in an aquarium back on Earth. He wore a black turtleneck garment over which was a sleeveless vest of iridescent shades of gold sparsely threaded with indigo. He sported a pale gold sash that ran across his chest from the left shoulder that bore a few angular badges and a much larger ornament not unlike a high-tech arrowhead underneath.
The camera angle was low. His hooves were out of picture but we could see that his trousers were black. He wore a wicked-looking blade on one hip and some sort of sidearm on the other. His chair was rather overly massive and well upholstered in scarlet. The back rose behind him to form two points not unlike naked, reptilian wings. To me it looked like nothing so much as a barbaric throne. (The Mare in my head nodded in silent agreement ‘Open mind’ , indeed!.) Slightly behind and to his right at about collarbone level stood a slightly less ornate version of himself with a more subdued sash who bore a wicked scar on the left side of his muzzle that revealed an ominously large and developed canine tooth. This one glared contemptuously at us from behind his the seated figure.
“We’ve rendezvoused with the Klingon vessel at twenty thousand kilometers, bearing five degrees relative.” Guiding Star announced quietly.
The Klingon in the chair smirked at us from his perch and I wondered of the low camera angle and elevated chair was a deliberate ploy to assert a sense of dominance over the viewers. My respect for the Klingons went down a notch or two.
“Captain Cloud Caper of the Federation Starship, Hermes. I am Captain Kyr of the Imperial Klingon warship…” His mouth moved and the translation matrix stumbled for a moment before supplying the name, “Switchblade. Tell me, Captain, what give you the right to approach a vessel of the Klingon Empire?” His voice was unctuous and oily and I really didn’t like the way he looked at Sunny who stood just within his field of view.
Caper feigned injured innocence. “Why, this is just social call, Captain Cur…”
“Kyr! My name is ‘Kyr,’ Pony.” The Klingon Captains’ eyes narrowed but his voice never rose above its previous level, though a note of warning had crept in as his translator footnoted the word.
Caper blinked slowly. “Is so? Apologies are all they should be, Captain!” He reached up to tug one ear casually. “Hearing is not all it should be any more. Old age, oy! Eh, Captain? In any event, we were passing through and noticed your ship just outside of Federation Border. Space is big and borders mathematically thin. Easy to trip over, da? Would hate to see Klingon ship make unfortunate diplomatic incident. So, in order not to make too much work for already busy diplomats, we come to show good Klingon buddies location of border and keep politicians happy, nyet?” He smiled a thin, toothless smile and added. “By the way, admire your chair! Clever way to make up for being short, da?” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Border is behind us. Please to go other way, Captain, and make everypony happy. Is small thing to do, nyet? Easy-peasy.”
The Klingon behind Kyr glowered but Kyr pursed his lips and smiled sympathetically at Caper. “It’s a pity that the Federation should put old and feeble Ponies in command of their old and feeble ships. Why, any ship of the Empire would be ashamed to be leaking so much static!” He shook his head pityingly. “It’s a sad comment on the level of Federation technology, isn’t it? Our ships are well-crewed and maintained not by politicians but by Warriors. The strong are meant to govern and command, Captain Caper. The old and the weak should submit. Ours is a far more efficient system.” He paused and gave Caper an insincere, menacing smile. “We’d be so glad to show you how!”
“Do tell, Good Captain Kyr? Is amazing  number of civilizations that do not agree. Just ask Romulans about Federations ships and they would tell you different story.”
“Romulans!” Kyr spat the name. “The Empire will crush them!”
“Maybe yes, maybe no.” Caper looked thoughtful. “Have held out longer against you than against us. Is sad comment on state of Klingon ships, da?” He said confidentially. “How is cease-fire working for you, bubula? Safer on Federation side of space than Romulan, da?”
Kyr bristled visibly and Sunny chose that instant to intervene. She stepped up beside Caper.
“Gentlecolts! Gentlecolts!” She turned her dazzling lavender eyes on the Klingon Captain… who gave her far, far too much attention for my liking! “Let’s no be a-turnin’ this into wha Daddy would call a ‘pissin’ contest’ !” Both Klingons frowned as their translator rendered the idiom. “We’re all civilized beings here, are we no? Captain Kyr. I am Commander Solar Cross, Chief Medical Officer of the Hermes. Pleased t’ meet you.” She smiled sweetly at Kyr.
I was forcibly distracted from the exchange by a muted pink flash and a barely audible ‘pop’ that occurred under my bust right at the edge of the console. An instant later, Tyllae stuck her head into my field of view and waved a hoof at me urgently!
“StarryStarryStarry!” She whispered. “Tyllae knows Tyllae should not be on Bridge-place but Tyllae came to warn Cappy Caper Bad Ponies are watching Her-mees! Watching real, real, real hard lika whole buncha bad, bad, bad Hawks! Something bad gonna happen soon, soon, soon! Tyllae does not think anypony knows yet! Why can’t Big Ponies see? Use stupid machines if Starry does not trust Tyllae, but warn nice Cappy Caper Bad People gonna hurt everypony! Hurry, Starry! Hur-ree!” The little Fey was literally hopping with alarm!
The passive scanners had been soaking up information the whole time. I consulted my viewer, carefully keeping the near-frantic Faery hidden by my body. According to what I saw, the Klingon disruptors were not fully charged… yet energy was stored in them. To be sure it was bleeding off but there was enough in them for a one-quarter power shot. Enough to do damage to an unshielded ship. And energy was being diverted in the vessel! Not into weapons or shields… but somewhere! Without going to active scanning I just make out where it was going but, wherever it was, it couldn’t be good!
I grabbed up a padd and stylus and began scribbling on its surface while keeping one ear cocked to the discussion behind me.
“… I have never before seen an Alicorne, Doctor Cross.” Kyr drawled, undressing my Darling with his voice. “Allow me to introduce my Second-in-Command, Kruze. He is a loyal officer and very zealous in his attention to duty.” … Don’t ask me how, but I could feel Kruze leering at Sunny as Kyr continued. “You have so many females in your crew, Captain Caper. Did the Romulans kill all your males?”
Sunny chuckled. “Well half th’ species is female, ye ken! We’re a pretty egalitarian lot in th’ Federation!”
Something in Kyr’s voice made me want to grind my teeth! “Do your females always speak for you, Captain? They know their place in the Empire.”
I scribbled onto the padd, ‘Tyllae came to Bridge to warn us. Klingon attack imminent. Klingon weapons partially powered and energy is being transferred to unknown systems. Don’t know how she knows but Something Is Up!’
“Stay out of sight!” I hissed to the Fey who nodded and disappeared in another pink flash with a ‘pif’ to reappear behind Caper’s chair with a quiet ‘pop’. I rose and stepped over to where Caper and Sunny were, pointedly keeping my face neutral and my gaze off the screen. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kyr’s expression as I came into view and showed the padd to Caper.
“You certainly feed them well in your Federation, Captain!” Kyr remarked. I gripped the padd hard enough to make it creak as Caper dropped his eyes to it, wishing I had that hand wrapped around Kyr’s throat! I darted a glance at the screen. Kyr had partially turned his head and spoke to Kruze.
“That one would be good enough for the Marines, I think!” He remarked.
I glared into his image. “Thank you, but I have no desire to join the Klingon Military.”
“Of course not!” Kyr smiled. “Ponies make terrible soldiers… but exquisite playthings. Alicorns even more so!” For just an instant he glanced off-screen. “Action!” he barked.
The screen went dark at the same moment Caper rapped out.
“Red Alert! Evasive maneuvering, full impulse! Energize weapons! Lock on target!”
I vaulted back to my station in one bound and poured all the power I had available into a sensor probe of the Klingon! I scanned my readouts. Sensors had identified the destination of the energy transfer even as my readings rarefied as out shields built up. The readings were easily identifiable, the technology being similar to ours… but faster!
“Klingon transporters powering up! Transport in progress!” I couldn’t believe my eyes. Transporting while our shields charged! These guys were bucking nuts!
The ship shuddered and the power levels fluctuated. Our partially-built shields faded to practically nothing under the assault. …Ok, maybe they weren’t nuts after all. Just reckless, which made them all the more dangerous! Still, with all the distortion and reflected signals bouncing back from what shields we had, they had to be getting pieces parts back on some of their transporter pads… The Mare in my head grinned a savage grin at the thought.
“Merry!” Caper barked. “Advise Security to repel boarders! Fire all weapons as long as their shields are down. Maximum firing rate!” I could hear Evee’s tactical scanner deploy from her console. I could also hear her firing before she had a complete lock. Sharp kid! At this range she could hardly miss!
The power levels on the Klingon ship dipped and wavered. Phased nadion beams are wicked stuff capable of causing matter to simply break down into a cloud of fermions as they interfered with the Strong Force that binds conventional matter together. Augmented by the Magical Balefire which burned ,clung and clawed away even after being fired, they were simply devastating! (The stun effect of phased energy is a diluted form of the full-strength beam. Part of Starfleet training is get shot by a stun setting. Very unpleasant! …The instructor had to shoot me three times to put me down! Really! I got the point after the first one!)
Phased Balefire weapons are wicked stuff… if only we had a couple more of them!
`As the Hermes shields flickered to practically nothing I could hear the relays clack as our photonic torpedo joined the fight. I watched the readouts of indicate a hit as the Switchblade began to duck past us. Their number two shield went from green to yellow to orange in an eye blink. In Starfleet there are six shield generators, each one providing sixty degrees of spherical coverage. The number one shield is situated directly forward and the other ones are numbered clockwise with number six just to the left of number one. Other species reckon these numbers differently but that’s how we do it in Starfleet. The custom… and I’m not sure I believe it… seems to stem from certain two-dimensional war gaming conventions more than two centuries old! (Sometimes I wonder why the Universe needs aliens since Ponies are weird enough on their own!)
Sensors showed something leaving the Switchblade and speed right toward us. The database tagged it as a Drone Missile making impact in four seconds! I slapped my comm button, going out on all speakers.
“Brace for impact! Incoming missile in three!” I secured myself against my station as the Klingon secondary batteries shattered what was left of our shields. The Bridge shuddered as we took the hits.
“Status of Klingon!” Caper barked.
“Their forward shield is degrading under the effect of the balefire hits. Number two was nearly destroyed by photon torpedo…”
The Hermes rocked as the Klingon drone hit! I stayed glued to my readouts using all my Augmented strength. Sunny squawked and grabbed the Bridge railing in a death grip while everypony else (With the understandable exception of Tyllae!) bounced in their seats!
“Shields are down, Captain! Overloads and blast damage indicated. Spaceframe is intact! If we’re gonna get out of this we need to get behind them!”
“Trying!” Evee called out in an incongruously calm voice. I darted a glance at her. She looked incredibly focused, but relaxed. I’m told that old-style fighter pilots cultivated the same mannerisms. She would have made a good Augment!
She worked her board and the sound of the impulse drive hummed through the entire superstructure as she pushed the ship as hard as she dared. “We’re what they call a ‘nimble ship’ , trouble is… so are they! Let’s see how good their Helm is… “ She stabbed her firing controls and I consulted my readouts as the phased-balefire relays clicked.
“One near miss. Balefire residue on Klingon number three shield. One direct hit on aft number four shield! …It’s collapsing! Damn thing must be made of glass!” I was making sure the recorders were getting all this when I heard Merry call out.
“Oi! Heads up, everypony! Company!”
Klingon transporters cycle faster than ours, mainly due to a lack of redundant safety systems. What takes us almost a minute takes them about seven seconds. Safer to put a suit on and jump off one ship to another… during a solar flare in orbit around a singularity! Like I said,  these guys are bucking nuts!
As I looked up, Kruze and two warriors went from being rainbow-patterned, two-dimensional blotches into terrifying solidity. Kruze stood just behind Caper, right next to Sunny who blinked at him stupidly. One materialized between Jerry and Merry and the last one ended up in front of the Main Viewer. All had barbaric shortswords and some sort of pistol in either hoof, and none of them wasted a second!
Kruze snatched the arrowhead-thing off his sash and slapped it onto Sunny’s neck. She gave a sort of breathless squeak and collapsed, writhing. At the same moment, with his off-hoof, he aimed his weapon straight at Evee’s back and fired!
But Caper was faster. Spreading his wings in classic Pegasus threat display, he vaulted for Kruze! The gun gave a warbling discharge, there was a burst of green light and Caper fell to the deck. Bitter smoke rose from his body.
Merry wrenched her earpiece out and winged it at the Klingons face, missing and almost popping Jerry with it! She balled her fists and roared at the Klingon warrior between them!
“Oi! Come git sum, ya bleedin’ whanker!”
The Klingon dithered for a fatal fraction of a second, then turned his attention toward her… sealing his fate.
Starfleet hoof-to-hoof combat training teaches all sorts of fighting techniques. All of them can be extremely effective, but take a lot of training to master. But, sometimes, you just can’t go wrong with the basics! When the Klingon turned, Jerry took a half-step and rocketed his hoof straight up between his foes splayed legs, obviously in the hope that Klingon physiology was similar to Pony. As the Klingons gonads apparently bounced off his larynx, he gave a whistling grunt. With his attention elsewhere, Merry came up with a roundhouse right to the jaw that hit him like a runaway ore cart! His head, but not the rest of him, spun back to look at Jerry with bugged, unseeing eyes. From where I stood I heard the crack when, as Merry would say, she ‘Broke ‘is bloody neck’!
I saw all this in incredible detail because, as I saw my Beloved collapse, my senses went into Time Warp Drive. Everything I described happened at practically the same instant. The Klingons weren’t slouches. They were good, damn good! They’d been doing this for a while that much was certain… but this time they were trying to do it to us!
Augment troopers (Yes, we have soldiers! As noted earlier, it’s not all rainbows and cupcakes Out There!) undergo specialized gene therapies to further ramp up their already Augmented reflexes, perceptions, and strength. Certain other people like the Klingons, so the rumors go, dope their troops with combat chemicals to do the same thing. (Colonel Greens soldiers during the Eugenics Wars were famous for the various drugs they took to do everything and anything. …Really! How 'Optimal' was that?) The goal is to achieve an almost supernatural level of focus and perception during close combat allowing them to move with lightning speeds and strike harder for more effect. I never underwent the therapies or took the drugs… I was a scientist, after all… but I did take a lot of personal combat training. Sometimes, under the right conditions, it’s possible for the brain to enter the same state all on its own. …Seeing Sunny hit the deck like so much dirty laundry was all it took.
I was halfway to Kruze by the time Caper collapsed. My eyes were, by then locked onto the Klingons… as his were to mine.
I considered vaulting over Sunny’s body, but I wanted to draw him farther away from her. Whatever he did to my Love I wanted to make sure he didn’t do anything more. I circled around toward his free hand. The farther he had to move his gun the more chance that he would miss me… though I doubted that a pro like Kruze would miss at this range. That was ok. That disruptor pistol didn’t dismember Caper. I could take anything but a direct head shot. The loss of a limb wouldn’t stop me from killing him. Amber Rose’s words echoed through my head. All I needed to do was get one hoof on him and he was dead! …And Kruze knew it!
Not that he was afraid, mind you. Our eyes locked and he just knew what he was up against. The fatality of a True Warrior possessed him and he made his stand, drawing from his hip a more ornate and wicked-looking blade than his troops from his hip. The outcome of any battle is never certain… and dying is part of the job of any soldier anyway… He drew the blade, swung the gun to bear on me… and snarled a laugh, showing his bright bare fangs!
He got two shots off. The first one singed my mane. I smelled it as I felt the pain bloom in my ear. I was watching all of him by then, not just his gun hand. He knew how big I was and was trying for that debilitating head shot. He saw how fast I was and realized that he would only get two. He saw how I moved and just knew that It Wasn’t Gonna Happen. But he tried anyway, what Warrior would not?
The second shot missed entirely and fried one of the displays that ringed the Bridge. I saw how fast he could move and he’d never get another shot off I couldn’t dodge even at this range!
A gun is made for killing at a distance. Within arm’s reach it’s only value is as a bludgeon, painful but not fatal unless he got real lucky and put out one of my eyes. Firing it while grappling could be suicidal but Kruze was a realist. He brought the gun in close and low, aiming for my guts. Even if he hit me he’d catch some of the backblast. Small price to pay. Like I said, he was a realist!
He half-turned, the blade feinting toward my nearest arm then veering toward my face. I turned my body a few degrees and deflected the thrust the same instant my far hoof stabbed his gun wrist, killing the nerve cluster there and breaking more than a few bones judging from what I felt. The gun flew away and I brought a knee up to slam into his abdomen. Not that I had any qualms about giving somepony a shot to the jewels… there aren’t any rules in a fight to the death… but a ruptured liver or twisted bowel would hurt a lot more. Contrary to popular belief, it can be harder to hit such a relatively small (Sorry, bucks!) target, and I didn’t want him wrapped around my leg in reflex. Anyway, I’m not a warrior. For what he did to Sunny and Caper I wanted him to hurt!
It another axiom of personal combat that multiple fighters aren’t always as effective as one. A fighting team is only as good as its least trained component. The same instant I rid Kruze of his gun and his tiddly-winks career I gained two more allies.
Merry is a bar brawler. Lots of enthusiasm… but not a lot of strategy. Jerry has helpful intentions but is, after all, a rather small Pony even by Terran standards. Neither of them were trained in coordinated close combat.
I intended to body-block Kruze, get a hold of that sword arm and start breaking bones one extremity at a time. I figure I needed about six seconds. Kruze would never touch me, I was certain. Unless he’d swallowed an armed photon grenade just before the fight I was home free…
Merry slugged him where a Pony’s kidney would be on his left side. Jerry jumped onto Kruze’s back and twined his arms under the Klingons to get him in a full-Nelson. It didn’t turn out that way, though.
Klingons don’t carry kidneys there, it seems. Oh, that punch hurt because Kruze snarled and slashed her arm. Merry hissed and bounced back, feinting with her hooves and striving to set the Klingon up for another powerhouse punch. 
Kruze, much stronger and far better trained that poor Jerry, only had to flex his muscles to break Jerry’s hold. He twisted his torso and stepped back, flinging the hapless Chief Engineer right at me!
I ducked, letting Jerry roll over the top of me. I hoped he wouldn’t land on Sunny! I swept a leg out and spun, hoping to knock Kruze off his hooves. I planned to continue the spin and cave in his ribcage with a well-placed kick or two. But Kruze danced back then darted forward in during the split-second my admittedly broad back was to him, knife poised for the killing blow...
But Merry got there first! She put her head down and bum-rushed the Klingon. The thrust that would have gone between my ribs got knocked aside and the blade plunged into my left hip as he dodged just enough to let Merry plow into the Bridge railing.
In the action-adventure vids, the victim always screams in agony as the blade goes in. The reality of the matter, though, is quite different. The blade felt cold as it stabbed me, so sharp that it passed through me like I was so much cloud vapor! I knew it went deep, I could feel it slice and part tissue. But it didn’t hurt… just yet! My left leg collapsed as he had the luck (Good or bad, depending on your point of view!) to sever the nerve cluster there. That was ok. I still had another leg and both my arms still worked. I only had to get one hoof on him to settle this Once And For All. For his part, all Kruze had to do was stay out of arms reach, dancing around me to dart in and finish me off as the opportunity presented itself.
I flipped onto my back, trying to wrench that blade out of his hand but luck was still with Kruze for the moment. The blade slid out, the outgoing slice not doing me much good. The warm gush as it came free told me that he’d opened an artery, damnit!
But Merry came through in the end! As Kruze’s face lit up in a victorious smile I saw Merry’s arms wrap around him, pinning the blade to his side. She hefted the Klingon into the air and body-slammed him face down onto the deck next to me! She rolled off and bounced to her hooves, preparing to spread his thinking stuff all over the Bridge with a kick to the temple. But I wanted Kruze!
I pulled myself onto the Klingons back. Unless he was an Augment he wasn’t going anywhere! I grabbed the wrist that held the blade and squeezed with everything I had. I didn’t break those bones, I crushed them! The blade fell from his hand and I felt a cold wave of dizziness wash over me as I began to bleed out. My mental disciplines did what they could to control the damage. The Mare in my head was stabbing buttons like a mad pony as display after display dimmed and darkened. I put one hoof on the back of his neck and reached for his muzzle with the other. He bit me, fighting right to the end, but I didn’t care. He could eat as many fingers as he wanted for his last meal. My only regret was that he wouldn’t live long enough to choke on them!
To my Augmented strength there was hardly any resistance. I wrenched his head around two hundred degrees. I felt the snap more than I heard it. I would like to have looked into his eyes when he died… but he was dead by the time I got to that point. His whole body bucked but I held him down until he subsided into random twitching.
I rolled off him, fully intending to crawl to Sunny, but I stopped… you’ll pardon the expression… dead (Well, dying, at any rate!) when I saw one of The Strangest Things I Ever Saw In My Life.
The last Klingon was backed up against the Main Viewer. In the twenty or so seconds it had taken the fight he never advance any farther. No crewpony was near him. Gun and blade were up, but defensively as he absolutely cowered at bay under the threat of… Tyllae!
The little Fey weaved and ducked just out of arms reach, her wings whizzing at warp speed as her forelegs windmilled at the Klingon warrior!
“Go ‘way! Get backa from came from! Get, get, get! Nasty, ugly Kling-gone no good! Go ‘way from Her-mees! Go home an don’t hurt any of Tyllae’s friends! Scat, scat, scat! Shoo!” She trilled.
From under her wings came a constant rain of… stuff! Teeny little pinks bursts of light that, judging from the Klingons reaction,  must have stung, puffs of something like smoke that made the Klingon gag, sudden little gusts of winds buffeted his face, and I swear that I saw a cookie bounce off his nose!
The Klingon recoiled from the little thing before him, his face a picture of loathing and… fear! I shook my head, wondering how much of what I was seeing was just blood loss to the brain. But the Mare in my head even paused her Damage Control duties to stare in disbelief!
It wasn’t just me. Merry gripped the railing, halting in the process of vaulting over it and just gaped.
“Wot… the… Bloody… Buckin’… ‘Ell?”
Just then the Klingon screwed up his courage enough to take a couple of half-hearted swipes at the flitting Fey who darted back a foot or two, outraged!
“No, no, no! No using nasty iron on Faery! Bad, Bad, BAD!”
With that, Tyllae decided to up the weirdness up another notch!
She spun in place and burst into rosy-pink radiance bright enough to make us all cover our eyes! When I could look again, Tyllae had… transformed!
What hung in the air before the Klingon was still recognizably Tyllae, in shape anyway. For the little Fey had gotten bigger by about fifty percent and she was completely consumed in a glowing, pink radiance. When she opened her eyes they were sun-yellow and sun-bright. Shades of pink billowed around her like plasma flames and she shone like what I imagined one of the legendary Phoenix birds would. The light she cast seemed to hurt the Klingon. At the very least, he didn’t seem to enjoy it. His lips moved, repeating something again and again that I couldn’t catch. Was he praying?
Tyllae hovered before him, beautiful and more than a little scary, as if she had somehow opened a door into another realm… revealing, perhaps, an aspect of Faerykind that never gets shone in our world. Something they shared or used against their ancient foes. I’d read something about the Fey in Sunny’s literature and the beginning of an ancient poem hummed in my head.
‘Up the airy Mountain,
Down by the Holy Oak.
We dare not go a-hunting,
For fear of The Little Folk.’
…I wondered what kind of place Equestria was when Ponies and Faerie-folk shared the world.
This was an aspect of Tyllae that would take some getting used to! I know that I never looked at her the same way again. I could never be afraid of her but I knew that I’d never have to be afraid for her ever again! Just let some bureaucrat try to put her in a cage!
Tyllae spread her wings, regal in her terrible beauty, and keened an echoing, eldritch cry that… somehow I had no doubt… was heard aboard the Switchblade. The Klingon, out of sheer desperation, aimed his gun at the motionless, hovering Fey…
“Look out, Tilly!” Merry cried. “Duck!” 
I held my peace. I doubt that I had enough strength to manage more than a croak just then, anyway. Jerry scrambled to his hooves and froze in place, riveted by the scene. Amazingly enough, I heard Evee still fighting the Hermes! Phased-balefire relays clicked and the distant twanging of the torpedo firing almost overwhelmed by the sound of the ship thrumming with power as it twisted and hurled itself around in space. I resolved that, if I lived, she was gonna get a commendation. I shook my head again, irritated that my mind was wandering. I crawled to where Sunny lay, wondering why the Bridge was so dark… and cold!
Daddy… and Amber Rose… were going to be so mad!
I looked up as the Klingon fired once, twice, thrice. The glow of the shots were utterly lost against the light that was Tyllae. Wherever those bolts went they never came near her. She lowered her head and her eyes blazed at him. She folded her wings and arrowed straight into him… like a hawk… and it was over.
The light went away and there our  familiar little Fey was bouncing up on down on the dead Klingons back!
“Take that an that an that! Tyllae said to go ‘way! Tyllae said so!” She flitted a foot or so above the corpse, spread her hind legs, lifted her tail, and… so help me… peed on him!
I couldn’t look any more. It was too preposterous. I crept to where Sunny lay and saw that she was shuddering and writhing. She was still alive and being tormented by the thing Kruze put on her!
I batted it away, the momentary agony of the touch cutting straight through the fog and giving me just enough energy to grab Sunny up and shake her.
Sunny heaved a sobbing breath and seemed about on the verge of fainting in relief… but she was alive! Bless Celestia and Luna both! I didn’t care about anything else any more. I held her close. She was so alive… and so warm that I didn’t mind that everything was going so dark. 
Sorry, Daddy…
Blessed warmth cut through the cold and pushed it most of the way back. I opened my eyes. I wanted to go back to sleep but a familiar, piping voice was clamoring for my attention. Tyllae, perched on my right breast, nuzzled my muzzle.
“Starry gonna be ok now! Tyllae an Sunny made all better! Starry is very, very, very brave but Starry should wait an let Tyllae fight nasty Kling-gones inna future! Tyllae fix ’em good!” She huggled my nose. “Don’t scare Tyllae like that ever, ever, ever again!”
I tried to sit up and nearly fainted. I tried to speak but only made a slurring noise. I marshaled all the concentration I could and managed to say, “The Captain! He was shot!”
Tyllae patted my nose with a reassuring hoof. “Cappy Caper gonna be ok, too! Sunny saved! Tyllae gotta go an see if any other Ponies need help! Starry should stay still! Still hurt! Don’t make more work for little Tyllae or Sunny! Don’t make Tyllae spank!” The little Fey giggled and planted a quick smooch. Then, with an audible ‘pop’, she was gone! I blinked and let my head flop back down onto the deck. I was cold! I wished I had a thermal blanket or at least a jacket. I was aware I was lying in a puddle of what used to be my nice, warm blood and I was absurdly irritated that it felt so chilly on me…
I listened to the activity around me.
“Shields are coming online. We’ll have Warp Capability in less than half a minute!” Jerry called out.
“Oi! Security says the Klingon boarding parties ‘ave retreated or bin contained. Damage Control reports minor damage in Engineerin’ and to ships systems. Ya ask me, Oy think it was a good, ol’-fashioned ‘smash n’ grab raid. Well, looks loik we did all th’ smashin’ an’ they did none of the grabbin’, eh? Bloody Klingons!” I looked out of the top of my head to see Merry back at her station, Kruze’s bloodstained sash wrapped around her forearm.
There was movement near me and I looked to see Caper being loaded onto an antigrav gurney by a pair of Sunny’s Medical Unicorns. Reaching out, I tapped Sunny ankle to get her attention.
“Sunny! A little help here? I need to get to my station!”
She glanced down in surprise.
“Th’ Hell ye say! What’re ye even doin’ awake? Yer goin’ nowhere but Sickbay on the next stretcher!”
I did The Augment Thing and pulled myself together by force of will and stubbornness.
“The Hell you say! I may be a quart low and have a bum leg but I’m Not Leaving This Bridge as long as I can think! Now gimme a boost into my chair or I’ll haul myself there. I’ll do less damage with your help. Sunny, there’s no time to debate this! I’ve got a job to do!” I kept my voice as level as I could and put every ounce of power I could spare into my eyes as our gazes locked.
Sunny chewed the inside of her cheek for a second. She knew how stubborn I could be once I dug my hooves in! She tried to reason with me.
“Look, yer more than just a quart low, Missy! N’ that nerve damage needs morena wee, quick healin’ spell kin do fer ye…”
“I’m an Augment, damnit!” I cut her off. “The fact we’re having this conversation should show you what I’m capable of! Now are you going to help me or not?”
“I dinna care if yer Khan hisself! Yer in no condition…”
“Wrong answer!” I heaved myself into sitting position then grabbed onto the wall and proceeded to haul myself upright, my blood-soaked slacks clinging coldly to me. The Bridge darkened and bright specks danced in my vision as I got up on my good leg. I kept myself distracted by calling out to Evee. “How’re we doing, Helm?”
Dimly I saw Evee sneak a look my way. She spared a look at Sunny, who only glared, before answering. “I’m clinging to his rear hemisphere. If we try to run he’ll get his forward guns on us. If he can bring them to bear we’re toast. I’ve got one phaber (Short for ‘phased-balefire’ .) bank reserved for those drone missiles. Our remaining bank and torpedo are mauling him. His phasers are mauling us. One of us is going to have to try to disengage and soon! If I can get another crack at that number four shield I’ve got him. I’m sure of it!” She got back to her board and the Bridge thrummed as ghostly tugs of inertia pulled us minutely this way and that as the Hermes darted around the Klingon ship and maneuvered for The Killing Shot.
I nodded, the motion making everything spin for just a moment.
“We’ll just have to see what we can do about that!” I measured the distance to my station and figured I could do it in five easy hops. The Mare in my mind pursed her lips and looked doubtful…
I held my breath and hopped. Luna, that hurt! I stifled a gasp of pain by pure willpower and refused to sag or even stop. As the pretty, bright lights danced in my eyes and made the Bridge get even dimmer I made ready for hop number two…
Turned out that some of those bright lights were from Sunny’s horn, thank Celestia! I was wafted to my chair in just a second and I hurried to twist around so I could keep my bad leg straight as I landed.
“Thanks, Sunny! Get Caper down to Sickbay, I’ll be down as soon as this is over. Put-a-cupcake-in-my-eye!” I gave her a grateful look. “Oh, hey! Gimme one of those thermal blankets? Life Support must’ve taken a hit or something.”
Sunny was on me in an instant draping the flimsy, silvery thing over my shoulder with a professional twitch.
“Yer impossible, ye ken tha?” She fussed. “I’ll hae look round t’ see how bad things are n’ be right back, situation permittin’. Dinna die in meantime ‘r I’ll never speak t’ ye agin!” 	She gave a quick, fierce kiss on the side of my head before pulling the blanket up in a hood. “Dinna make me send th’ Bug after ye!”
“Yeah, yeah! Scoot, Toots!” I made a mock swat at her Cutie Mark as she sprang away to hustle Caper into the turbolift… and immediately regretted it. Only the fact that I had the other hoof grabbing my station in a death grip kept me from doing a face-plant on the deck.
I hauled myself back to my display and concentrated the fireflies in my eyes away…
Switchblade was looking more like a nail file at the moment. But a nail file was more than enough to take us out just at the moment. Well, I could fix that!
“Jerry! Keep one balefire bank and the torpedo charged! I’m going to need everything else you can spare from propulsion into Sensory. After I make this play shunt it back to Helm”
“Aye-aye, Commander!” I didn’t need to see him to know Jerry bent over his board, routing all the power the ship had to where we needed it.
“Stand by, Evee!”
“Ready and waiting, Ma’am.” …I wished I sounded that cool under stress!
Our sensors give us the ability to actively scan and gather information across light-years of space. All told, they take more power than a phased-balefire bank. The difference being is that their signals go out on a far different set of frequencies. Even in standard situations it’s positively suicidal to be floating in front of the Main Sensor Dish when its being used. Safer to dip yourself in old-style gasoline and dance in front of an old-style microwave oven with the door open while wearing a cutlery necklace!
What makes a Scout-class vessel so dangerous in combat is that we have so much more power available to our sensors. The Romulans found that out… and now the Klingons would! Power enough to scan the Event Horizon of a singularity at three light-years distance was going to be brought to bear at a marginally shielded target at seven thousand kilometers range on a tight a beam as I could manage with all the power I could supercharge it with. With any luck every electronic device onboard that ship would flop over on its back and die! At the very least we’d wipe that data off all their control systems and it would just be possible that we’d wipe their computer core as well. (Good luck rebooting that, Kyr!) We’d have to repair and realign our Sensors afterwards but it would be a small price to pay…
The power levels on my board rose and peaked!
“That’s all there is, Commander!” Jerry called out.
“Here we go, Ponies!” I piggybacked my scanning onto the Navigational array (So I could an idea of what happened!) and sent Celestia’s Own Sensor Probe into the Switchblade!
To the naked eye there was no outward sign that anything was amiss, other than the fact that the Switchblade had begun to tumble as its guidance controls failed. The information on my readouts was much more entertaining! Power levels across the spectrum wavered and fell, many of them disappearing at once! The Klingon shields fell, the balefire that clawed at them falling on the naked green-gray hull instead. I was showing spontaneous energy discharges in their Engineering areas. No doubt containment fields were collapsing to add to their distress. I couldn’t bring myself to feel much empathy just then.
“Evee? …Give Captain Capers compliments to Captain Cur, won’t you?” I tried to keep the gloating out of my voice, I really did!
Evee triggered the phased-balefire banks. “Done and,” She fired out photon torpedo. “Done!”
On the Main Viewer the twin scarlet beams of our phasers dug twin glowing orange trenches in the Switchblades Engineering Section. The green Witchfire spread out from the strikes and ravaged the hull plates spreading like the magic wildfire it was. An instant later the bright blue-white blob of our photon torpedo struck between them and the viewer blanked out the sudden glare. When the image restored itself there was a gaping crater one-third the span of the hull sparking with balefire, plasma, and loose antimatter…
I dropped my eyes to my display. Given what I’d just done to our sensors it was no surprise that I couldn’t get much. This much was apparent, though. Not one third of the Switchblades crew were alive. The survivors were concentrated in the bulb and narrow boom of the forward section.
“A palpable hit, indeed.” Observed Evee, thoughtfully.
Merry snorted. “Coulda saved ourselves a lot of trouble and just beamed ol’ Tilly in there, eh? Prolly ‘ad the ‘ole lot surrenderin’ and beggin’ fer mercy boi now!”
“What was up with all that?” Evee demanded. “I only caught it out of the corner of my eye but it looked weird!”
“Focus, Ponies!” I raised my voice because everything around me was getting disturbingly quiet. “There’s loose antimatter out there. The only thing holding that ship together is the coating of fused Klingons inside it. Move us off to a safe distance but try to keep in transporter range to pick up any survivors. Merry! Keep an ear peeled for any distress call from Kyr or anypony else. Advise Little Rock…” I frowned and rubbed between my eyes as things began to spin away into blackness again. I took a breath and continued. “ … Advise Little Rock that we’ll take them in with the cargo transporters and he can stun every one of them as they materialize if he wants.” I gathered my blanket around me like a shawl and realized with a start that I was shivering again. “I do not want another armed Klingon on this ship ever again!”
Aww, whatcher worried ‘bout, Boss Lady?” Merry scoffed. “ ‘Em Klingons ain’t so much now we got the measure of ‘em! Eh, eh?”
I would have told her that I had about two billion corpuscles lying on the deck backed up by a very cantankerous, outraged leg that would disagree with her… but I just didn’t have the energy just then. 
When I tried to speak to Jerry all that came out was a weak squeak so I cleared my voice and tried again. “Jerry? Can our shields take it if their Warp Core goes?” I peered through the fog at him.
“Keep our number two shield toward them… I’m specifically reinforcing it… and we should be ok.” He looked at me, on the verge of asking one question then switching to another.
“Are our sensors going to be able to detect their life pods, Commander? That little trick had to pretty much take them offline.”
I smiled weakly in his direction. “Sorry ‘bout that, Jer!” The Mare in my head blinked sleepily as I said that on the Bridge! “But seriously, did Life Support take a hit? It’s colder than a wild Tellarites ass in an ice mine here!” I pulled the thermal blanket tighter and tried to blink the cobwebs out of my eyes.
Jerry had to speak twice before I heard him.
“Commander?”
“Hm?” I tried to see where he was speaking from. It felt like I’d had another good slug of uskebaugh. Damned if I could remember where I got it from, though…
“Uh, Commander…? You don’t look so good!”
“I don’t?” I asked innocently and in all seriousness.
“Too roight! Ya either got the Mother of all Monthlies or ya opened up yer wound again.” I swung my head over to where Merry sat, barely discernible through the dark haze. I blinked, confused.
“Oh…”
“Now you just siddown an’ shut up an Oi’ll ‘ave Medical ‘ere in a blink.” She worked her board for a second. “Oi! Medical Team to the Bridge. The Boss Lady’s down!”
I realized that I could feel something warm running down my leg again. I wanted to curl myself around it and go to sleep. I slouched in my chair and nearly dropped off. I came to with a start as Merry stepped up to me.
“Roight! Now tell ya what. Let’s git ya settled down for a noice little kip ‘ere on the deck all cozy n’ comfy-like. Ere! A couple-three o’ you lot c’mere n’ gimme a hoof! Oi don’t think Oi kin shift ‘er meself… Whoa, Nelly!”
For I tried to stand up to go to Sickbay. Seemed to be a reasonable thing to do at the moment. I was just trying to be helpful! The pain that lanced through me woke me up a little but wasn’t nearly as bad as before. I blinked in surprise and turned toward the Mare in my head for an explanation… but the little bitch was gone, leaving an ‘Called in Dead’ sign in her chair!
“Ere! Settle down, Starry-girl! Who ya lookin’ for? It’s all apples, we gotcha!” Merry draped one of my arms over her shoulder while Jerry and Guiding Star got under the other and they all heaved. I revived enough to squirm around in protest when Evee’s voice cut through the murk!
“They’re breaking up!”
On the Main Viewer the Klingon ship shuddered. There was a flare of light where the two sections connected. The Engineering Section spun away, fragmenting. Rippling explosions, each one more powerful than the one preceding it, wracked the structure as the boom-and-bulb section seemed to jet away on a controlled vector…
We all nearly fell over as Jerry ducked out from under and dashed for his station. The screen flared into blinding white again then faded into white noise and static. Several systems on the Bridge beeped and warbled in protest as a wave of radiation and charged particles… all that remained of a Klingon Warship… washed over the Hermes. The whole ship gave a lurch, no worse than our Time Warp Five transition, then settled down.
“There go the sensors!” Jerry called out. “Shield reinforcement is gone… Number Two shield is stable. …Ships systems a-ok.”
“Splash one Klingon ship.” Evee commented.
The turbolift opened and a Medical Team headed by Dr. Willowbark hustled in with another antigrav stretcher. Each one of the team carried a Medical kit.
“Make way there! Make way! Commander, Doctor Cross’s compliments and you are getting on this stretcher come Hell or High Water if I have to sedate you to do it!” He took the situation in at a glance and broke open his kit!
“Good Celestia! …You!” He pointed at Merry, “Put her down here and advise Sickbay that I’m starting a full-bore plasma drip at once. Somepony get me a vitals scan on the tricorder, stat! Get those clothes open and get a protoplaser to seal that wound now! Move it, Ponies!” One team member broke out a Medical tricorder and played it over me while  Merry laid me into the stretcher. Another other produced a cutter and slashed my slacks open. Together they all started in on all the embarrassing ignominies that all Medical Ponies inflict on their patients. I summoned all my reserves for one last burst of lucidity.
“Jerry?” I laid back and closed my eyes, concentrating on keeping my voice audible. “You have the Conn. Get those sensors back up. Everypony else…” I winced as the protoplaser  started its work. “… You all did a great job! Thanks”
Willowbark made a disgusted sound and slipped a needle into my arm, dropping the plasma bag onto my stomach and everything just Went Away…