“You three behind that bench, you and you over there behind the ground car. I want a team in that second floor window right now.” I bellowed out orders as I thundered down the shuttle's access ramp and back out into the square. It didn't take long for Lieutenant Risi to join me from his post by the shuttle and he stalked through the press of bodies ahead of us to clear a path. Sala had also joined me, despite my protests, stating that she wasn’t letting me out of her sight. We could already hear the hammering of the targs' feet as they barreled through the streets of new Jerusalem growing ever closer.

“Your sidearm Lieutenant.” I held out my hand to Lieutenant Risi and with a smooth motion he unholstered his hand phaser and handed it to me. I turned to Sala. “Do you have any idea how to use this?”

“A little Captain.” She replied and I could hear the trepidation in her voice. I quickly set the power setting to level two before holding it out to her. She took the phaser reluctantly.

“That's set for a heavy stun, you won't have to worry about killing someone.” I stated, matter of factly. Sala didn't strike me as someone who had to kill before, and I didn’t want her to hesitate because she was unsure if pulling the trigger would take a life. Her reply was drowned out by the whine of engines behind us as the Savitskya and the Popovich took off from the spaceport. Before departing the Fort, I had ordered them to shoot down those Raptors before they tore up our emplacements.

Sala cradled the phaser I had given her like a treasured toy and followed a few steps behind Lieutenant Risi and me as we took position behind an overturned table on the patio of what appeared to be a local cafe. The sound of the approaching targs was overwhelming now, like a bass drum rumbling all round us.

“Contact!” A voice called and the first of the animals rounded the corner at the end of the square's westmost street. targs are fearsome creatures, porcine and violent. Klingons hunted them for sport or used them as war beasts. This animal looked haggard, almost half starved and it ran with a wild determination towards us. One of my security officers fired and the beam struck the beast. It shrieked and stumbled momentarily but recovered as it was joined by a herd of its equally disheveled and hungry fellows rampaging behind it. The staccato of massed phaser fire rose to challenge the rumble of the animal's paws creating a cacophonic wall of sound.

I took aim at a striped targ and fired, missing. My hands were shaking, partially out of fear but also due to sheer exhaustion. Shaking my head I took aim and fired again. The beam took the targ just above the snout, scorching its fur and skin but not slowing it. Cursing, I dialed my phaser up to setting three, took aim at the same creature and fired. The beam hit the targ in the shoulder and it dropped to the ground, tumbling as it slowed before coming to rest in a crumpled heap.

“Set phasers to kill.” I bellowed. “It’s the only way to stop them!” I could hear a few affirmatives from clusters of my crew around me, but there was simply too much noise to effectively communicate anymore. I snapped off two more shots into the mass as Risi fired his rifle on full auto from the hip next to me. Even Sala was adding to the weight of fire, but it wasn't enough they would be on top of us in seconds.

Anticipating the charge, I drew my knife and crouched behind the table to brace it as the first of the animals reached us. A hulking mottled beast vaulted the table completely and smashed into Risi, sending them both sprawling to the ground in a tumble of limbs and pained cries. Another targ attempted to vault the table to get to Sala, but as it sailed over me, I sprung up and stabbed my knife into its soft underbelly. Its momentum caused it to disembowel itself on my blade's edge. I was in turn showered in its viscera and knocked backwards, stumbling. Fortunately, my efforts managed to slow the animal enough for it to crash into the ground at Sala’s feat. She screamed at this and fired shot after shot into the animal caterwauling at her feet. Taking a moment to shoot another approaching targ, I holstered my knife and grabbed her arm to calm her.

“Sala, it's dead, we’re alright!” She looked at me and screamed again. I realized what I must have looked like, coated in the purplish blood of the targ I had wounded. Before either of us could speak again a groan rumbled from beside us. Lieutenant Risi rolled the body of the targ off of himself and leaned against the side of the cafe. He cradled his left arm which was leaking bright red blood, coating his uniform. His utility knife was jutting out of the targs skull, a testament to the strength the Saurian possessed. I kicked his rifle over to him and he nodded in thanks before tucking it into his shoulder to fire a burst of shots past me. I turned to follow his shots and took a moment to take in the battlefield. My crew were being overwhelmed by the beast's charge, though the bodies of at least twenty targs littered the ground as well.

Another pair of targs were bearing down on our position and I managed to shoot one before the other crashed into the table we sheltered behind. The table burst apart in a shower of splintered wood and metal legs, but the impact barely slowed the targ as it reached me before I could get a bead on it. Its slavering jaws clapped shut around my phaser as I tried to fire. I let out a strangled cry as I felt my fingers break in the beast's powerful jaws as my phaser’s casing buckled. The momentum carried us to the ground and the animal's impact knocked the wind out of me. There was a loud crack as my head hit the cobblestones, and my vision swam. The targ had fared little better, sprawling on top of me and scrabbling with its claws for purchase, raking my body in the process. In our tumble its vice-like grip on my ruined hand slackened slightly and I managed to twist my phaser vertically in its mouth, wedging it open and saving myself from being gored by the beast's tusks. It squealed in frustration and bit down on my phaser, trying to dislodge it.

With the beast momentarily distracted, I took the opportunity to roll out from under it. I sprang to my feet drawing my combat knife in a reverse grip in my off hand as I moved. With an awful crunching sound, the housing of my phaser crumpled, and the beast spat it out in a shower of blood before rounding on me, head lowered to charge. I dropped into a fighting stance, my ruined hand held out in front to take the brunt of the beast's assault. With a roar it launched itself at me, tusks lowered and spittle flying. Before the beast could connect with me a massive red shape crashed into the animal, knocking it off balance and sending the targ careening past me. Risi had shoulder charged the animal, using his bulk again to our advantage. He rolled into a crouch, aimed his phaser rifle past me and fired. A squeal and thud from behind me let me know he had killed the targ that had wounded me. Exhausted, I dropped to my knees. I felt something touch my shattered hand and looked down. With a detached precision borne of shock, I evaluated my injury. The digits were crushed, with multiple fractures and cuts. More of interest were the smaller hands that cradled mine.

“Niah this is bad, you need a doctor.” Sala shouted above the din of battle. My hand ached as the pain returned, though I knew that was only the beginning of my agony. Combat has a habit of dulling some senses, which I was grateful for right now.

“I can't leave now Sala, these people need me. Come on” I stood up. “Lieutenant with me!” I bellowed over the noise. Disarmed as I was, I wouldn't be able to contribute to the weight of fire, but while I couldn't fight, I knew I could at least try to lead, or find some way to turn the tide. I was grasping for any ideas at this point. With Risi covering us we started to push through the melee. The targs were all around us and I could see pockets of my crew, Brotherhood troops and Suliban volunteers were fighting back with rifle butts, hand tools and even their fists. Bodies were being trampled in the confusion and we were seconds from being overrun.

“Captain!” a voice rang out over the battlefield, and I strained to see where it had come from. An ear splitting whine suddenly drowned out all other sounds; I knew that sound, it was a phaser on overload. A shockwave punched through the press and I stumbled as the air was knocked out of my lungs and my ears rang. The effect it had on the targs was more severe. Those closest to the detonation were knocked reeling, while those on the edges scattered into the streets and alleys that surrounded us. Those targs that were stunned in the blast soon joined their comrades in flight or were finished off by our forces if they were too injured or too slow to get away. I looked around for whatever savior had bought us this breathing room despite wanting to double over from the pain. The shockwave had jostled all the broken bones in my crushed hand and it was excruciating. Sala supported me as I finally broke and bent double, keeping me on my feet with no small effort. I could just make out the sound of Risi talking to someone as my hearing returned, though I couldn't make out anything being said aside from the muffled cadence of their voices. As if out of nowhere a pair of arms grabbed me and helped me straighten up. It was Bray, the Tellarite was smiling and his face was caked in dust and grime. He must have joined us from his post at the spaceport once he heard the shooting start.

“I knew that would work!” He exclaimed, dust shaking off of him and his eyes blazing with mirth. “targs’ natural predators use ultrasonic waves to hunt. The bastards did the same thing on Lambata V and the same trick worked there too!”

“Bray,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “I need you to take everyone you can to the front right now and work the same magic you did here.” He looked down at my cradled hand and the blood that was seeping into my uniform and nodded.

“Right, you promise you’ll get that looked at though captain.” He turned to the assembly of our officers, Brotherhood troops and locals before speaking again. “Our comrades are dying out there right now. I plan to do something about that! Any of you that can walk and still hold a phaser, follow me!” The assembled personnel roared an affirmative and fell in behind Bray as he set off at a jog along the same route the targs had come from. Bray really had a way with words, it was something I envied in him. He always could say the right thing to motivate a team of engineers to pull double shifts or to steady a line of wavering troops with ease.

An eerie calm descended over the square broken only by the pained groans of the wounded and the odd whine of a dying targ. I slumped again, the adrenaline finally leaving my body. Risi stood over me, jaw set in pain and phaser rifle at the low ready, the sling wrapped around his injured arm to steady his aim. He had elected to stay with me instead of going with Bray and I still didn't understand why he showed so much loyalty. Sala crouched next to me and I could feel her shaking as she leaned against me.

“It’s alright, the come down is the worst part. We made it'' I said quietly to her as we watched medical teams start to arrive from the field hospital. A large explosion from the direction of the front cut off any reply Sala made and she jumped in surprise at it. With a groan I forced myself to my feet.

“Come on.” I said to both of them. “Lieutenant, we both need a doctor.” Risi grunted in response, no doubt underscoring the pain he was in. We set out in the direction of the S.M.A.S.H tent. Sala walked at my side, an arm extended to catch me if I should fall and Risi followed us a few paces behind.

“Is it always like that?” Sala asked me as we walked. It was but I didn't have the heart to tell her right now, so I shrugged in response. She shuddered.

“Anything hurt?” I asked her “Sometimes your body doesn't realize it's hurt. Anything feel off or wrong?”

“No, I don't think so. That was the worst experience of my life.” She said the last part quietly. I had to resist the urge to tell her that it was unlikely things would be getting better. Instead I opted to wrap my uninjured arm around her waist which she reciprocated as we walked.

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“I’ll get one of the nurses to check you over anyways, just to be sure.” I replied.

“After you, and all of them.” She motioned to a stretcher team that ran past us carrying a writhing Brotherhood trooper between them. “No special treatment, just because I’m the captain's friend.”

“Oh is that what you are?” I teased in response. She squeezed me against her before speaking.

“Why, what would you call me?” She retorted and my antennae flitted about nervously in response. She giggled at this. “I love all your cute little tells. I’m going to figure out what all of those mean one day.” At this my antennae flattened back onto my head and my face flushed blue. She continued. “You don't get to dodge the question Niah. What would you like to call me?.”

“Honestly I don't know, it feels like everything’s moving so fast.” I replied, trying to be honest with her.

“When you don't stay in one place very long, you make connections where you can.” She explained. “When you don't know how much time you’ll have with someone, you try to make the best of it. Especially when it's with someone special.” I had turned my head to look at her while she was talking and she had noticed. As she finished speaking she reached out and poked me on the tip of my nose. I recoiled and she laughed. It was such a relief to hear that sound again after the battle.

“If we survive this, I’m going to need you to explain what exactly you see in me, Sala. I’ve been called a lot of things, never special.” I replied, quiet enough so only she could hear.

“Deal, but you have to tell me what you want us to be before then, or I’ll leave it a mystery forever.” She laughed again and I smiled down at her. By this point we had arrived at the tent, and a pair of orderly’s helped us inside. They sat both Lieutenant Risi and I on stacks of empty crates, as neither of our injuries required the use of a bio bed. Sala leaned against the wall next to me taking in the carnage of the hospital. We didn't have to wait long for our injuries to be assessed and we were triaged for care. Fortunately neither of us were too badly hurt, but it did mean aside from a hypo full of broad spectrum pain killers we had to endure our injuries for a while longer. Mercifully the sound of phaser fire had dwindled, which I hoped meant Commander Bray had been successful. Sala had managed to find me a PADD and a bottle of water, which she held uncapped for me, while I checked on status reports from team leaders and wiped the targs blood off of me with a sterilizing wipes. This was slow going however, as the painkillers they had given me were making it very hard to focus.

“Crush injury, how did you manage that captain?” A voice called from the hospital entrance. It was Doctor Truong, evidently returned from supporting Commander Foro and her project. He deftly maneuvered through the confines of the field hospital to get to the three of us.

“A targ bit my phaser doctor.” I replied and he laughed. I felt my brow furrow in response, I didn't find anything particularly funny about my injury or how it had happened.

“Do you think that's what Klingon children say to their teachers? Like how human children say the dog ate their homework.” He replied, evidently noticing my scowl at his comment. I still didn’t understand the reference but I heard Risi laugh his low guttural laugh in response to the doctor's attempted joke.

“My talents are wasted on you captain.” He laughed again and raised his tricorder to scan my hand.

“Let's hope it's just your comedic ones.” I retorted and he laughed again.

“They're my best ones.” He joked as he finished scanning my hand.” Well the good news is your hand isn't too bad, just a few hours in an osseous regenerator should fix it, but you won't be able to use your hand for that time. Lieutenant, can you make sure the captain does what I tell her please?” Risi grunted in the affirmative and Doctor Truong gestured for a nurse to slip the regenerator over my hand. He then turned to my tactical officer.

“It's dirty but not too bad, a good cleaning and maybe ten minutes with a dermal regenerator should have you right as rain lieutenant. He patted Risi on the shoulder. As the nurse fitted me with the osseous regenerator. Doctor Truong started to clean Risi’s wound, humming to himself as he worked. I recognized the tune from my academy days, one of my classes on old Earth history.

“Why do I recognize that tune doctor?” I asked him, holding up my broken hand to give the nurse better access to my injury.

“Do you have a fondness for old Earth music captain?” he asked, not turning around. I actually did. I couldn't stand human food, but I did appreciate their music. I couldn't remember at this moment if I had told anyone on the crew about my affinity for it. Would I have heard this tune in my collection? I decided to go out on a limb and actually share this, rather than let my curiosity eat away at me.

“I do actually, mostly pre World War Three classical music.” Alan stopped running the device over Risi’s arm and turned to look back at me, mouth open. I also felt Sala’s eyes on me, clearly interested in what I had to say.

“You're serious?” He asked.

“Very much so, the academy put me onto it. Apparently there was a big retro revivalist movement on Earth when I was there. Really popular at parties and I guess it just stuck with me.” I shrugged and the nurse in front of me frowned as I shifted my hand while she was calibrating the brace. Doctor Truong returned to running the regenerator over Risi’s arm before speaking again.

“I don't think you’d recognize the tune from your party music captain. It's an old war song. The old nation my family is from, the United States, fought a civil war over slavery almost four hundred years ago. The songs from that war. Everything that's happening here reminded me of learning about it as a kid.” I remembered a little of this from the mandatory founding planets history courses we had all taken in school, but the details eluded me at the moment. Doctor Truong sighed before speaking again.

“I was really proud of my ancestor when I was little. My family had managed to preserve copies of his war diary and I read them obsessively. He's the reason I joined up actually, I wanted to make a difference like he did, like all the Union soldiers did.” He paused for a moment before sighing again and began to sing, his tenor filling the confines of the tent.

“Ye soldiers of Freedom, then strike, while strike ye may,

The death blow of oppression in a better time and way,

For the dawn of old John Brown has brightened into day,

And his soul is marching on.”

The tent had gone silent upon hearing the doctor, only the beeping of medical machines breaking the silence. Doctor Truong shut down the dermal regenerator and set it aside.

“The songs’ about a man who saw the evil of slavery for what it was, years before his government did, and tried to do something about it.” He said, still looking away from me. He toyed with the dermal regenerator on the table for a moment while he spoke. “My dad taught it to me, well, a couple versions of it. I couldn't help but see the spirit of the song reflected in what we’re doing here today. Excuse me for a moment.” His voice cracked as he explained this to us. He turned and walked into the attached office at the rear of the test. Sound returned to the space, the momentarily reprieve replaced by the hushed words of the staff and the moans of the wounded. I moved to stand and follow after him but Sala placed a hand on mine and shook her head.

“I think he needs to be alone for a moment.” She whispered quietly to me. I looked up at her in confusion. She elaborated.

“We’re all dealing with this in the ways we know how. I’m sure he’ll be back in a moment.” I nodded as a response and made a point to look up this John Brown person if we survived all of this. We sat in silence for a while, which suited me just fine. Sala had left my side and moved to speak with some of the other Suliban in the tent while lieutenant Risi closed his eyes for a moment's rest. I considered joining him in that. The burn of lactic acid in my muscles combined with the elevated heat had left me exhausted. I knew I needed to sleep, but I had no idea when I would actually have the chance. Maybe it was time to swallow my pride and ask the doctor for those stims. As I moved to stand, a commotion by the tent's entrance drew my attention. Voices were speaking, though I couldn't see the cause or make out what they were saying over the ambient noise of the hospital. Slipping away from my companions, I moved through the biobeds and attending staff, no one paying me any attention as I made my way to the entrance. I poked my head through the flaps to catch the tail end of a conversation.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but as I said, support staff and wounded personnel only.” One of my security officers was standing in the doorway. I recognized them, Ensign Vonalu, one of the two Rigellians we have serving aboard the Resolute. A higher voice I immediately knew replied to them.

“Well Ensign, the captain’s going to want to hear what I have to say. She trusted me to get this ready and I am not going to let her down! Can you at least go get her?” The other voice was Commander Foro, and I had never heard her sound so insistent. As much as I felt for my poor security officer who was just doing their job, I was pleased by the assertiveness my science officer was displaying. Though I decided now would be a good time to sweep in and save Ensign Vonalu from a full dressing down.

“No need, I’m already here.” I spoke up from behind them. They both jumped in surprise at my sudden appearance and I smiled to reassure them. Yamina went bright blue while Vonalu was obviously trying to look anywhere but at me. "You have something to tell me Commander Foro?” Her composure returned and she replied.

“Yes captain, we have the gas as promised and a functional delivery system. It's being loaded into the Baumgartner as we speak.” Her eyes lit up as she relayed her progress to me. Clearly she was proud of what she had accomplished, and she was right to feel that way. That gas would level the playing field between us and the Klingons.

“Great work Commander. I need to tour the front anyways. I’ll just be a moment inside.” I replied. Her eyes fell to the device covering my hand and her expression changed to concern. Fortunately she didn't press the issue and I slipped back into the tent without further questions. Passing through the inner plastic flaps I almost collided with Lieutenant Risi.

“Sorry Captain. I was unsure where you had gone.”

“It's alright Lieutenant. Commander Foro’s here and we’re heading to the front. I just need to speak with the doctor before we leave. Wait with the commander for me please.” I pushed past him before he could respond. This conversation with the doctor wasn't exactly one I wanted to have, but even walking was starting to hurt and I needed to be at my best. I opened the door to the tent's office without knocking and quietly closed it behind me. This was not something I wanted to be overheard. Doctor Truong sat at the desk when I had seen him hours ago. His face was buried in a PADD and he was typing something on the screen. I coughed to get his attention and he looked up. His eyes were red and puffy as if he had been crying.

“Sorry Captain, did you need something?” He asked me, his voice shaking. Rather than directly launching into my request as I planned I instead sat on the same crate Sala had used as a chair when I had first met her.

“Is everything alright doctor?” I asked him. I didn't know Allan Truong very well, and I didn’t want to assume a confidence existed between us. He finished typing on the PADD and set it down before answering my question.

“Just writing a letter to my kids in case anything happens. I don't know, all of this didn't feel real until I mentioned my dad just now. He never had a chance to say goodbye to us and I wanted to make sure I didn't make the same mistake.” He cleared his throat before continuing.

“You’re doing the right thing here captain, if it's reassurance you want. I don't think any of the crew would disagree. Someone had to stop this and none of us would be able to look at ourselves in the mirror for the rest of our lives if we hadn’t tried” He crossed his arms over his chest, giving me an opportunity to speak.

“But,” I replied, grabbing the thread he had dangled and pulling on it. “Not everyone here was ready for me to make this choice for them, I know, doctor. I fully expect to be heading to New Zealand if I survive this after being very publicly drummed out of the service. People have already died because of my choice and it's very likely more will. Despite everything we might still fail.” I was giving voice to every doubt I had, every insecurity and regret about my actions since arriving at New Jerusalem. The words were pouring out of me faster than I could think. Fortunately the doctor cut me off.

“That all might be true, but it was still the right thing to do, captain. I’m proud to have served with you and to have made this stand alongside these people. I told my kids the same in my letter, I hope if the worst happens that they understand why I had to do this and are proud of me too.” His voice trailed off as he finished and we sat quietly lost in our own thoughts for a brief moment.

“Tell me about your kids please.” I asked him without really thinking.

“I have two, Hoa and Denise, named after mine and my wife's parents respectively. Hoa’s four and Denise's almost seven. Her birthday is in a few weeks actually. I was hoping to use a bit of leave to go back and see her after this mission was done.” He replied while staring off into space, clearly lost in thought. “What about you captain?” he asked after a moment.

“Not a chance doctor,” I didn't know how much he knew about Andorian reproduction and I really did hate discussing this topic. Though I also realized he was trying to be polite so I elaborated. “Aside from not having the time to have a family as complex as an Andorian one, having a child would be…difficult for my career.” I let the last bit hang in the air, almost as a warning to not proceed.

“Right, stupid question, you’re a Zhen, I get it.” I was glad he both understood and chose not to press the issue. Even if I found three other Andorians to have a child with, a pregnancy would take me out of commission for over a year. The whole idea disgusted me, much to my parents' chagrin.

“Thank you doctor, for understanding.” I replied. The mood was suddenly awkward, so I sought to break the tension. “I did actually come here for a reason, though I don’t think you’re going to like it.” He cocked his head at this and I continued.

“I’ll just be honest with you doctor. I haven't slept since in about thirty hours and I am not as spry as I once was. I’m looking for something to help with that.” There, just get it out into the open and deal with the consequences later.

“Did all those miscreant security officers clean out my med kits already?” He frowned.” I suppose I couldn't just order you to take some forced rest could I?”

“Not a chance doctor.” I replied, matter of factly. He sighed, opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a hypospray.

“Alright, but I’m not giving you all of it.” He pointed the hypo at me like an accusatory finger. “Your type cant be trusted to take it responsibly. You’ll have to come see me for any additional doses after this and when I say you’re done I mean it. Come here.” I walked to the desk, rolling up my sleeve as I went. Doctor Truong pushed the tip of the hypo to my bicep and squeezed the plunger. Almost immediately I felt the rush as the combat stims swam through my bloodstream. That would keep me alert and on my feet for the next few hours.

“Thank you doctor.” I rolled my sleeve back down.

“Just so you know, if your heart gives out from that I’m putting you on the bottom of the triage list.” he snarked back at me.

“Fair enough.” I shot back at him as I opened the door to his office to rejoin my officers.