War Stories (Book 1) - Keith R.A. DeCandido [5]
“Hm?” Lense was confused by the statement.
“The captain was dead before he ever got to sickbay. Your being here wouldn’t have made a difference.”
Lense wanted to say any number of things. She wanted to ask about the other people she might have been able to save if she had been where she belonged. She wanted to say that she would never get the chance to get the apology from Eberling that she felt she deserved. She wanted to say that she wondered what it meant that her first thought upon learning of the death of a man she had once respected was self-righteous anger. She wanted to ask how the hell Anderson knew what difference her being there really would have made. She wanted to say that she had no desire to serve under Captain “Heather is just fine” Anderson, regardless of rank.
She said none of those things. Instead, she just said, “Thank you, Captain.”
Anderson smiled. Or, rather, her lips upturned. Smiles tended to brighten faces and show some kind of humor or joy. But the rest of Anderson’s face remained as pursed and humorless as always. “It’s ‘Heather.’ And don’t mention it. There’s a senior staff meeting at 1100 in the observation lounge. I’ll give everyone the mission specs there.” Her lips turned downward into a frown that was as unconvincing as the smile. “It won’t be another Tyra, I promise you that. In fact, this may give us a chance to get some of our own back.”
With that, Anderson left Lense alone to figure out how she felt.
The mission the Lexington went on wasn’t another Tyra.
It was worse.
Dominion forces were threatening the border near the Setlik system. The site of a major battle during a previous war between the Federation and Cardassia, it was once again a flash point in this war in which those two nations were only supporting players. The Lexington was one of six Nebula-class vessels assigned to the sector, along with the Honshu, Sutherland, T’Kumbra, Monitor, and Aldebaran. In addition, they had support from ten Norway-class ships. Intelligence reports indicated a distinct possibility of an attempt to take Setlik by a small garrison of Cardassian ships, led by one Jem’Hadar strike ship, and this force would be more than enough to deal with it.
Typically, Intelligence was both absolutely right and completely wrong. The Dominion/Cardassian forces did try to take Setlik—but with two very large garrisons of Cardassian ships and six Jem’Hadar strike ships.
The Narvik, Oslo, Lillehammer, and Bodø were destroyed before the Lexington had a chance to even go to red alert.
Lense had been on the bridge at the time. She was discussing the possibility of setting up one of the shuttlebays to handle triage in case things got bad. Said discussion was taking place with the new first officer, Commander Fiona Galloway, since “Heather” was busy with other concerns. This suited Lense just fine.
Then the tactical officer—some Bolian ensign who didn’t look old enough to have a ridge—announced the arrival of over a dozen warp signatures, and then four of their support ships were gone in plumes of flame, and a Jem’Hadar ship was firing on the Lexington.
Galloway bellowed, “Damage report!”
Mai-Fan Wan, the second officer, said from the ops station, “Mutlitple hits to decks nine, ten, eleven, and twelve.”
Lense tensed. Sickbay was on deck nine.
Wan continued: “Hull breach on deck twelve. Plasma fires erupting on all four decks.”
So much for “getting our own back,” Heather, Lense thought angrily, and said, “I’ve got to get to sickbay.”
Nobody spared her a glance as she headed to the turbolift.
“Target that Jem’Hadar ship and fire, all phasers.” That was Anderson’s voice.
“Load torpedo bays.”
“Sensors indicate that the T’Kumbra, the Tromsø, and the Trondheim are trying to cut a wedge in the Cardassian ships.”
“The Honshu, Bergen, Sutherland, and Stavanger are chasing the ships going after Setlik IV.”
“Course 189 mark 2, then hit them with—”
Whatever it was Anderson wanted to hit them with was lost to the turbolift doors closing. “Sickbay,” Lense said. Plasma