“Captain.. Are you sure about this?” Lieutenant Commander Benson asked, his voice seeming more shaky than normal, it also lacked its usual deep and melodic vibrato. A telling sign that he was legitimately concerned. 

“About flying Aldrin right between the nacelles of Britannia?” Commander Mayvilis retorted and turned her head around again to make eye contact with her executive officer. “It’s a bit of a flex, not something I’ve done before in all honesty, but I’m not worried.” 

Truth was – she was having a blast being at the helm of a starship again. Despite the awfulness of the situation they were in, there was something to be enjoyed about it at least. 

“I have full faith in your flying capabilities, Captain. More so about using Aldrin as cannon fodder..” Benson replied – reinforcing his confidence in the Commander’s ability, at least. 

“Canon fodder? I don’t think of it that way. If anything, Britannia will be taking the brunt of the initial counterattack. I think we can pull this off together. I don’t really see any other options.”  Mayvilis’ attention returned to the helm console in front of her. Her hands and fingers continued to glide across the panel with an experienced touch.

“We’re no use to those on Risa dead, Captain. Strategic retreat comes to mind.” Benson voiced. This caused Mayvilis’ motions to pause, and she considered his statement. 

It wasn’t a suggestion of cowardice in her mind, and certainly had a place to be considered. The tactical odds of their situation were certainly not in their favour. Benson was right. If they failed and were all killed as a result of a heavy-handed approach, Risa would be as good as gone based on the intentions of their enemy so far. 

“It’s certainly an option. But not the one we are going with for now. Besides, exactly how would we warp away?” Mayvilis punched in some final flight commands, which pulled Aldrin rather gracefully between the nacelle pylons of the Britannia. It was somewhat reminiscent of a parent giving their child a piggyback.

Down in main engineering, Lieutenant Commander Hilga Stramm ran between several different control panels in the central control area. Her team, albeit much smaller than normal, had worked as vigilantly as she had to ensure the ship had what it needed. 

“Damage control team gamma has reported that the power distribution relay on deck seven has been stabilized, Hilga. Beta still hasn’t gotten a handle on the plasma flow regulator jam, though,” one of her junior lieutenants reported in, adjacent to the central control console. 

“We need to get that flow optimal again, especially if our wonderful Captain is going to continue to fly us around like we’re an insect avoiding a swatter. Tell them to redirect flow to the secondary and tertiary junctions for now. I’ll redistribute flow remotely to alleviate the backflow pressure that will be caused.” Hilga ordered and then moved backwards and quickly tapped some commands on the wall flannel, which executed her end of the redistribution. They all had to have eight arms at the moment to keep up. 

“Engineering.. We need whatever you can give us for weapons. We will be pushing those systems to their limits here momentarily. We cannot have the torpedo launchers jamming up. I need them above one-hundred percent efficiency.” The voice of Benson came through the comms.

“And I need a raise, Commander, but here we are,” Hilga replied with her usual sarcastic flair. She pondered just what the hell they were up to on the bridge, but only for a moment, as her own attentions were needed solely in her domain. She couldn’t afford to take away any more personnel from the damage control teams that were already operating razor thin. 

“Lieutenant.. Get to armory control. Ensure that those weapons are ready and stay so for whatever is coming our way.” Hilga ordered, her lieutenant nodded in confirmation and broke away from the space. Hilga would need to make up for her being gone now.

“Bridge. You’ll have your weapons. Stramm out.” Hilga closed the communication loop with Benson and braced the control table for a moment. She took a deep and focused breath. The Aldrin was an old gal, but she had good bones. This is the mantra she would carry forward with her in the moments to come, instead of the prospect that they were most likely headed for their deaths. 

“The Britannia has braced its shields around us, as planned Captain. Reports coming in from departments confirm readiness to engage.” The young ensign who manned the operations station reported. 

Mayvilis nodded and then opened an internal communications channel to the ship.

“Aldrin crew. We are about to directly assault the large carrier enemy vessel. I won’t lie to you all – the situation is grim – but our colleagues and friends are on Risa, not to mention the countless innocent lives that are in danger. We will do what we must to protect them. I believe in you all. Let’s roll.” It wasn’t the most eloquent of speeches on the part of Mayvilis but she gave it her best. 

“Signal the Britannia that we are ready to do this…” Mayvilis ordered, braced the helm console with her arms wide apart and leaned in further. She was ready for this and was confident that her crew and ship were too.