USS Pasteur
In orbit of Kevratas
Near the Romulan Neutral Zone
Stardate 57054.8
Lieutenant Commander Worf paced the bridge like a caged targ. Doctor Crusher did indeed spend most of her time on the surface, travelling to different hospitals to oversee the work of her various doctors and medical teams, but it meant that Worf was left in charge of the ship. He knew that Romulans were capable of fighting with honour, Commander Donatra had proven that to him, but he also knew that many were treacherous and deceitful, including the current praetor. It was for this reason alone that he was keeping the shields up on a permanent basis, and the reason why La Forge was continually coming up to the bridge to make sure that the engineering console was providing real time data. Worf finally sat in the command chair and watched the back of the alpha shift conn officer, Lieutenant Sara Nave. Her bearing, even while sitting down, reminded him of his own.
‘Lieutenant, do you not prefer security?’
Taken aback by this blunt question, the young human female turned to face the Klingon. ‘While I was chief of security on the Kilimanjaro, I often found that my job would be made easier by having pilots who actually had tactical experience. When I transferred to the Enterprise, I opted for the conn in order to test my theory. May I ask a question, sir?’
Worf inclined his head.
‘Why was I transferred to the Pasteur?’
‘It is only a temporary transfer, Lieutenant. At the completion of this mission you will return to your duties aboard the Enterprise. I asked for your inclusion in this mission because I agree with your theory. I have submitted your proposal to the Academy to include such training for conn and flight control officers.’
Nave’s eyes widened. ‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Starfleet officers must be widely trained and such training will prevent honourless deaths.’
Nave understood his reasoning, he could see that, but she did not appear to be focused on the helm. An alert klaxon sounded and she immediately identified the reason. Worf realised that she was completely aware.
‘Romulan warbird decloaking between us and the planet, sir. They’re beaming down personnel.’
‘Red alert, ready weapons and identify that vessel.’
‘Sensors identify the warbird as the Havoc. We’re receiving a hail from the surface.’
‘Put it through,’ Worf said, growling.
‘Worf, this is Crusher, we’re under attack down here. I need security reinforcements.’
‘We have a Romulan warbird up here, Doctor. I will send reinforcements when I can. How long can you hold out.’
‘I’m not sure, but the security are keeping the Romulans at bay for now.’
‘I will send help, Doctor, Worf out.’
‘Lieutenant, are they powering weapons?’
‘They are weapons hot, sir. If we lower the shields for transport we’ll be defenceless.’
‘Worf to La Forge, how long can the hull plating withstand an attack?’
‘A few minutes at best, why?’
‘Doctor Crusher needs reinforcements.’
‘We’d be risking the ship for a few people, Worf. It’s not worth it. The Kevrata need us.’
He was tempted to argue the point but knew the engineer was right. Nave apparently did as well. ‘We need a diversion,’ he said finally.
‘The D’deridex-class are old but they have no major weaknesses.’
‘Scan for any fractures in the hull and gaps in the shielding, no matter how small. We cannot fire first, but we will not sit idle.’
‘Scanning,’ Nave replied, having rerouted tactical to her station. ‘I’m picking up something in their engine core. Their primary coolant system is not operating properly.’
‘We can use that, prepare to lower the shields for precisely six seconds and target your weapons on those coordinates.’
‘Aye sir.’
‘Worf to security, prepare three teams for the surface, weapons ready.’
‘Leybenzon here, sir. We’ll need a moment to get ready.’
‘You have one minute.’
‘Sir, we need...’
‘Mister Leybenzon, you are wasting time,’ Worf said in his most commanding tone. ‘Get to the transporter room.’
‘Aye sir.’
‘Are you ready, Lieutenant?’
‘Yes sir.’
‘Leybenzon, are you in position?’
‘Ready, sir.’
‘Prepare to beam down on my mark.’
Nave’s finger hovered over the shield deactivation key.
‘Mark,’ Worf said.
Nave dropped the shields and the transport process began. As expected, the Romulans opened fire the nanosecond the shields dropped and the Pasteur bucked as the shots impacted the ablative hull plating. Worf leaned forward in his chair as Nave fired a quantum torpedo followed by a photon torpedo. The shields around the Havoc’s engines flared and failed and she manoeuvred the ship into position to fire phasers at the engines. The shields returned and the Pasteur was no longer taking damaging hits. The Romulan vessel was venting drive plasma and no doubt suffering from the excess heat caused by the malfunctioning or destroyed coolant system.
‘Sir, why didn’t you ask them to identify themselves?’
‘Damage report, Lieutenant.’
‘Minor damage to the hull plating, long-range communications are offline...and we lost one security team when the Romulans hit a beam emitter.’
Worf slammed his fist onto the arm of the chair. ‘I hope Doctor Crusher has all that she needs.’
‘We’re being hailed, sir.’
‘Onscreen.’
The viewscreen changed from the view of the warbird to a face that Worf hoped never to see again. ‘Mister Worf, what a pleasant surprise,’ the Romulan woman said as the sounds of a badly damaged bridge erupted behind her.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked.
‘Fulfilling my duty to the Empire. And what about your little band of doctors?’
‘Curing the plague you no doubt seeded this world with, honourless PetaQ.’
‘It wasn’t us, but you are in violation of the neutral zone. I suggest you leave before I am forced to destroy you.’
‘Not without my people.’
‘Then you leave me no choice,’ she turned away and nodded her head. ‘After the war, we were able to work on a few spoils. The weapon the Breen left behind, for example. I believe you’re familiar with it?’
‘Sela!’ Worf cursed as the screen blanked.
Nave turned to face him, her expression worried. ‘Sir?’
‘Evacuate the ship. Get everyone down to the surface. And send a distress buoy,’ the Klingon replied, narrowing his eyes at the screen.
‘Aye sir,’ she replied as the ship was hit by a concussive wave.
Alarms blared as the evacuation alarm sounded and every electronic circuit on board was instantly overloaded. Nave bounded from her chair but Worf stayed in his.
‘Sir, we have to go. Now.’
‘Perhaps today is a good day to die.’
‘Not this way,’ Nave said, standing face to face with him. ‘Die with honour, not sacrifice.’
Worf nodded and they both ran for the escape pods as the Pasteur began to fall apart around them.
That's just crazy-talk! 
