NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: lol. Sure, you can join in man. Be whatever you want....Federation, Klingon, Romulan, Dominion, Cardassian...borg. Whatever you wish. I wouldn't suggest borg though...their kind of impersonal, if you know what I mean.

Brian nodded at Chris before answering. "The only force of any remaining strength is the Sector 001 Defense Fleet. I suspect that most of our reinforcements will be coming from there." Brian gave a lopsided grin. "Ironic isn't it? We're stripping our own home defense fleet to save the home planet of our enemies. But I suppose that dealing with the Borg can create some unlikely allies."

"What if we were to let the borg destroy the entiere fleet, and then, right before they land on the planet, we hop in. We don't want to let them assimilate the planet, but at least let em take out their fleet." Chris said as he walked in.

"I don't know at this point, I'm not even sure if my suggestion is going to be approved. For know I think we should get back to Starbase 211, make what repairs we can, and pick up whatever reinforcements are availible."

"I'm going to head back to my ship, hopefully we can get the warp core up and running soon..."

Kur'Dak nodded. "I haven't been on the Kre'Don in far too long, I probably should get back too. I'll contact Klingon command, and tell you if my people will give us any support against this cube....I wouldn't count on much though. High Command will probably want to take a couple sectors while their concentrating on that cube, rather than finish off the one who's going to kill our enemies' home planet. Were it not for the problems that Cardassia would give us under BORG control...I'd have to agree with them."
Even as he finished, his communicator beeped, and Kur'Dak got up. "Well, if you do not mind, I must go. Someone has got to get over to that ship before W'Fan and Ren'Tok blow it up. I'll see you at Starbase 211"
With that, he opened his communicator, and before he could even say "energize", was on the bridge of the Kre'Don.
"Damnit Ren'Tok, couldn't it wait!?!?" asked Kur'Dak, he had barely finished when he realized why Ren'Tok hadn't waited. Actually...he didn't, and Kur'Dak knew he was going to get VERY angry at Ren'Tok...once he was sure the ship was alright, that is.

OOC: hmmmm, wats heppening here?

IC: "Energize." Chris suddenly appeared on the bridge.

"Captain, we think we will have the warp core up within the hour."

"Excellent, not too bad, at least not as bad as I had expected."

"Yeah, I was releived."

"Allright, I'll be in my quarters, alert me when it is fixxed." And with that, Chris walked off the bridge to make himself look presentable again.

The ragged remaints of the fleet limped back into Starbase 211. Even as the Swordfish and the rest of the squadron were docking for repairs, Brian was going over the damage totals. The surviving Miranda was a complete write off, the Akira would need to be completely rebuilt, and damage to his own squadron necessitated repairs ranging from a few days to a couple weeks.
Brian tossed the PADD onto his desk, massaging his tmeple with his left hand, before turning to Samantha. "Sam, despite the damage we inflicted, we got the crap beat out of us. The fact that we now have a Borg cube running around only makes things worse." He sighed. "Inform the rest of the squadron that they have a standard week to complete repairs. If it can't be fixed or replaced in that time frame, they'll have to do without. And get me a listing of every ship within five sectors, damaged, laid up for repairs, on patrol, decommisioned, I don't care, I've spent more time in Starfleet than most Admirals, I've got the rank and the pull, and in this case, I'm not going to hesitate to use it. We're going to need every hull we can get our hands on."
Samantha raised an eyebrow at that. "You realise that if we start pulling ships that have been decommisioned that they'll need complete overhauls, refittings and be recrewed."
Brian's artifical hand tapped in frustration on the table hard enough to dent it. "I know, but we can always dig up the needed spare parts and personnel. What we need is time to refit them. So I'll need that list as soon as you can pull it togeather. We're going to have fight our way into their space, fight the Borg, and then fight our way out. This is going to make Wolf 359 look like a cakewalk by comparision. But we'll pull it off, somehow, we always do, but damned if I know how this time."
"You realise it will be practically suicide for those crews to send damaged and obselecent ships against first the Borg and then the Dominion." Samantha said softly.
Brian's voice was hushed and pained when he responded. "I know, deity but I know." His voice grew stonger and louder, anger and frustration coloring it. "But there's no other way. I've sent people to their deaths before when it was necessary, and by all the myrid gods that infest this war torn galaxy, I will do so again, and again, and again if that is what it takes by all that is right and just!" Brian puncuated this statement by pounding on the table with his right arm. Just before the last word the table finally gave way and cracked at the point of impact before crashing to the floor, Brian's last word was punctuated by his standing up and picking up one half of the table and sending it slamming into the wall.
Samantha had backed up a couple of steps at the determination and rage that had flared behind Brian's eyes, it filled the room like a live thing. Before she could answer the door to the cabin opened, revealing Lieutenant Hendrickson and a pair of security guards, all armed with phaser rifles. Looking at the scene before them, one of the guards gave a low whistle. The look on Brian's face would have been enough to give even a Klingon pause, and the table lay in two pieces, one lying halfway across the room, just under a huge dent in the wall, data chips and pieces of hardcopy lay scattered about the room, as if thrown about by a tornado. Hendrickson stammered. "Sir, I'm sorry, it's just that's we've been getting reports from as far as four decks down, and well, um, I apologise for the intrusion and, uh, good day sir." Hendrickson finished with a hasty salute before turning and heading down the hallway at a pace just short of a run, the guards a mere step behind.
Brian and Samantha looked at each other, and then back at the now empty doorway, and then they both broke out laughing. Managing to finally stop he sat back down. "Sam, you'd best get to work, and could you have stores replicate me a new desk when they get a chance." He gestured at the devestation. "I'm afraid mine is in no shape at the moment to be used as a work station."
"Of course Brian." Samantha answered before leaving.

OOC: I'll take my Oscar and my Pultzer right now please. :D

OOC: Nice try...

IC: "Sir, warp core is stable, and we won't be able to go too fast, but at least we can keep up."

"Excellent, follow the fleet when they leave, wherever they decide to go."

OOC: C'mon man, at least spell your award correctly, thjat won't look to good to the Pulitzer Prize judges. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I've never heard of a Pultzer Prize. 8) (my first smiley ever used)

OOC: I'll take my Oscar and my Pulitzer right now please.

So sue me, I forgot to dot one lousy i.

OOC: And the Nation States Pulitzer Prize is given to...for his great posts in the Star Trek RP, as well as many others.....Crystata!!!!
*Grimdale, who had been walking towards the stage, changes direction suddenly, acting like he was heading for the bathroom next to the stage*
IC:
Kur'Dak grimaced. His fleet was not so nice. But it would have to do.
In all, he had been able to scrape together only:
1 Negh'Var (The Kre'Don)
5 K'Tinga Class Warships
1 Vorch'Ka class cruiser
13 Birds of Prey
1 D1 Class Battlecruiser

Kur'Dak wasn't sure how he had gotten a D-1 Class Battlecruiser...but somehow he had. The last time the damn thing had been used was against the Romulan Federation...that's right, Federation. For a few years around 5 centuries ago the Romulans had consisted of 8 planets and been a Federation. Last time the D-1 was used, it was against that Federation. The Battlecruiser didn't even have transporter technology.

Pushing the thoughts from his mind, Kur'Dak went over the ships again. 21 in all, a very large Klingon task force. It had taken him all his favors to get the ships, and if this wasn't enough, he was dumb out of luck. The resk of the Klingon fleet was taking advantage of the weakened Cardassian borders and were attacking like crazy.

IC: Brian stood with Samantha in the Swordfish's small observation lounge. Outside lay what could arguably be called a fleet if one was being extremely generous. "My God Sam, I'm not leading a fleet, I'm leading an old age home. Hell, those Saladin's were retired over fifty-three years ago, and is that a Constitution over there? Half of these Excelsiors and Mirandas are the origional models, without any of the upgrades. And there's a group of Soyuzs. And there's a Defender. Most of these ships we consigned to the scrapheap before I even entered Starfleet."
"You said grab whatever was availible, and they were availible. At least Command released a part of the Sector 001 fleet."
"We'll just make do with what we have. But it's a bad day when we've got ships with the same names in one fleet because they'd been retired and a new ship got the name." Brian sighed, and then nodded firmly. "Right, we may have only a paper tiger, but with any luck, we can give someone a nasty paper cut."
Brian had a total of a hundred ninety-two ships under his command, easily the largest fleet he had ever commanded. But it's size was deceptive, most of them were obsolete or damaged, almost as bad, most of them were no more than destroyers.

Swordfish-6
Centurs-17
Challengers-3
Excelsiors-23
Constitutions-3
Freedoms-5
Norways- 15
Polaris- 9
Sabers-24
Saladins-12
Springfields-2
Steamrunners-6
Trident-1
Rigals-4
Griffins-2
Mirandas-33
Constellation-2
Soyuzs-6
Galaxy-1
Ambassadors-3
Nebulas-4
Intrepids-6
Defiants-5
Akiras-3
Niagra-1
Total-192

OOC: And you thought Kur'Dak was scraping the bottom of the barrel. Shades of Captain Kirk, Constitutions for crying out loud.

OOC: PRIORITY ONE COMMUNICATION!
WHERE IS EVERYONE!?
And on a smaller note, if anyone else wants to hop in, now, while we're at the Starbase is the time.

Chris wakes up. It takes him a minute to remember where he was. He recently heard of the huge fleet massing here, some ships under the command of Kur'Dak or Brian. Chris hadn't tried for anything. All he wanted was for his Valiant to be repaired. It would be by today, with a few upgrades.

"An impressive ship, you really should see her." Jason said as he opened the door.

"I'll be there in a minute." Jason walked out, heading back to the ship.

Kur'Dak walked across the flagship of the Klingon Empire...what was the flagship two centuries ago, anyway. Looking across the bridge of the D1, Kur'Dak realized just how screwed he was if it came down to this ship vs. a single borg drone. Looking out the viewport, he eyed the huge federation fleet.

"Tell me Ren'Tok, how did they get a fleet of 170 ships, and we only have a fleet of 20!" asked Kur'Dak, whom had been expecting more Klingon warships.

"Most of the fleet wasn't in this sector in the first place, sir, and now that command is seeing this weakness in Cardassian defense, their massing everyting for a large assault." Answered Ren'Tok, who was also surveying the diffirence between the two fleets.

"And of course, it's more important to take twenty planets from the Cardassians then defend the homeworld of your worst enemy. Great. At least our captains are well trained. Oh yeah, whatever happened to the other Negh'Var in this sector?" Kur'Dak was just fishing, seeing what had happened to the great Klingon fleet, he knew he wasn't going to get much more.

"Command is keeping it back for defense. It doesn't have a current commanding officer, so they were bound by regulations not to send it..." replied Ren'Tok, who was rather sad at the prospect of such a large ship sitting in a starbase without a commander

"Oh really?" asked Kur'Dak, who had just figured out how to enlarge his fleet greatly, "What if I were to have a commanding officer?"

"Sir, who? He or she would actually have to be a Captain in the Klingon Defense Force..."

"Contact the Swordfish..I need to speak to Brian for a few minutes..."

"Brian here, I hope you've got some good news Kur'Dak, as it stands I'm in charge of a bunch of worn out rusting wrecks that were just pulled from the scrapyards less than a week ago."

"Brian...I rather have a problem. You see, I need another commander, and can't think of anyone high enough in the Klingon ranks to take command of a Negh'Var. You wouldn't happen to know anyone?" said Kur'Dak jokingly.

"I don't know, let me check something." Brian replied.
Brian looked over his shoulder. "Sam, how do you feel about a temporary promotion to Captain and command of the squadron?"
"Why not, it makes about as much sense as anything else that's happened these last few days."
"Excellent." Brian replied before turning back to the view screen. "In that case Kur'Dak, Captain Brian MacLeod of the Klingon Defense Force reporting for assignment."

"I don't know, let me check something." Brian replied.
Brian looked over his shoulder. "Sam, how do you feel about a temporary promotion to Captain and command of the squadron?"
"Why not, it makes about as much sense as anything else that's happened these last few days."
"Excellent." Brian replied before turning back to the view screen. "In that case Kur'Dak, Captain Brian MacLeod of the Klingon Defense Force reporting for assignment."

"I don't know, let me check something." Brian replied.
Brian looked over his shoulder. "Sam, how do you feel about a temporary promotion to Captain and command of the squadron?"
"Why not, it makes about as much sense as anything else that's happened these last few days."
"Excellent." Brian replied before turning back to the view screen. "In that case Kur'Dak, Captain Brian MacLeod of the Klingon Defense Force reporting for assignment."

I want to be the Jem'Hadar! :twisted: :twisted: :twisted: :twisted: :twisted:

I want to be the Changelings :D

OOC: We have openings for Dominon, Cardassian, Federation, Klingon, and Romulans.

"Well...I'd hate to put it this way, but as I'm also a Captain...you can't exactly report for duty to me. At any rate, the ship is yours. You can incorporate into your fleet, go freelance...anything you wan't. Just be carefull....the Klingons on that ship just lost their captain. They aren't going to be very accepting of a human." Kur'Dak paced as he talked, and, at the end of his 'speech', he sat down. "Good luck anyway, Captain."

As he sat, Kur'Dak started to realize just how bad it must have been for the crew of this D1. It's bridge was smaller than most current Klingon members.

Is this somehow linked to ACTD?

Just before Brian prepare to head over to the Negh'Var a message came up on his screen from the bridge.

FOR THE EYES OF CAPTAIN BRIAN MACLEOD ONLY, STARFLEET COMMAND, CONFIRM IDENTITY
After giving his clearence, Brian read the message. By the time he'd finished a haunted, haggard look had come over his face.
"Bridge, this is the captain, wipe that last message from the databanks, destroy any record of it being recieved, manually scrub those isolinier chips if you have too, and when your done that, please ask that Kur'dak met me on my new command, I have important information for him that needs to be given face to face."
"Yes Captain."

It was a grim faced Brian that beamed over to the Negh'Var.

SEND ME A TELEGRAM WHEN U CREATE IT AND ILL JOIN :D

Kur'Dak beamed onto the Klingon Negh'Var, and nodded to the Klingon Transporter Operator. Walking out into the hallway, Kur'Dak walked up to the main conference room. As he captained a ship of the same type, it didn't take long to find it. Walking in, he sat down.

"Brian...what is it you humans say.....what's up?"

multipost

Brian stared out the window at the blinking lights of Starbase 211 and the assembled fleet. He didn't turn around at Kur'Dak's entrance. Indeed, for a moment it appeared that he hadn't even noticed Kur'Dak's presence. But finally he spoke in a solemn voice.
"Kur'Dak, we humans present a civilized face to the rest of the galaxy. We claim we abide by reason and honor, that we've put the violent history of our past behind us. But every once in a while something happens that shows that we've haven't left our past behind us, that underneath this thin display of civilization, lies our old animal emotions and instincts. Kur'Dak, what I am about to tell you is not to leave this room, I've already swept it for bugs so I'm confident it's secure. Just before I left the Swordfish I recieved a message from the highest levels of Starfleet command. If it appears that the Borg will manage to assimilate Cardassia, I've been ordered to initate the Omega Alpha Protocal." Brian turned around and his internal conflict could be seen clearly on his face. "I've been ordered to commit genocide on an entire race Kur'Dak, and I don't know if I can do it. Fighting warriors is all well and good, but I have never to my knowledge killed a innocent, and I just don't know if I can destroy a world full of them. It isn't honorible to kill helpless civilians." He sighed heavily. "But nor is it honorible to disobey orders when the fate of the entire quadrent is at stake."

Kur'Dak sat down, barely believing what he had just been told. "Yes...but would it not be better for them? Death vs. asssimilation....I believe anyone from any race...Klingons, Cardassians, or eve Ferengi would take death over being assimilated into the borg. Being assimilated is the worst torture you can do to a man. To be frank, I would see it as doing them an honor, allowing them to die in war, rather than just pass away."

Even as Kur'Dak said it, he knew he didn't agree with it. "Yet, how is it our choice to decide what should happen to them?" Kur'Dak stood up, and walked over next to Brian. "Brian....I don't want to kill them either....they are civilians, not combatents. But we don't NEED to kill them....all we need to do is make sure the Borg Cube never gets into a position where the safety of the planet is in jeapordy."

Kur'Dak barely believed the order given to Brian...and yet, he understood it. Allowing the planet to be civilized might be better than genocide...but Kur'Dak simly would be unable to do it. Klingon high command hadn't given the order for the same reason Kur'Dak wouldn't be able to follow it....it would be dishonorable.

"You are right my friend, I have a Captain's meeting scheduled in a couple of hours on the Starbase. We'll be going over the battle plan, and immediately afterwards we'll be heading out. Let's see to it that at least one order never need be carried out."

Kur'Dak nodded, and, turning, headed out. He had quite a few things to take care of back on the Kre'Don, the first of which being....Kur'Dak didn't even want to think about what the first of which was. He was going to have to arm the 1000 Klingon Troops on board his ship with alternating weapons to fight the borg....pretty much, he was insuring their death. But he wasn't planning on sending them on offense...it was defending the ship once shields were down he was scared about.

OOC: Hairfield, you out there?

OOC: Just got to a computer that works.

IC: Chris sat down on the bridge of the Valiant. The ship was repaired as best as it could be. There wasn't much to do but wait. He didn't even know what was happening, or which commander he was following.

"I'm going to take a walk..." Chris mumbled as he walked off the bridge. Half the crew wasn't even on the ship, why should he be.

"I need to figure out what is going on." Chris thought as he walked from the ship into the spaceport hallway.

If all you people are interested in Star Trek I ask that you visit

www.starfleetcommand.ws

Admiral Jammers
CnC SFC

Brian looked out over the assembled captains from behind his podeum. He hid a grimmace, many of them were little more than inexperianced lieutenants, given temporary promotions to command scratch skeleton crews in obsolete ships. With a flick of a switch he activated the annoucment system built into the large room.
"If I may have everyone's attention, this briefing will commence." Voices hushed and heads turned towards the podeum. Behind Brian a giant viewscreen came to life, changing as he went through the lecture. "OK folks, here's the rough plan of action. Since we don't know what we're going to run into, it's probibly going to have to be changed on the fly, in fact I'm willing to guarrentee it. The older and damaged ships have each been assigned to a squadron, stick togeather for mutual support, you can't go head to head with anything out there, so meet opposition with massed fire. Teamwork within squadrons will be crucial, cover each other out there. These ships will be forming the outer layers of a spearhead. The newer and more powerful the ships, the closer to the center of the fleet they'll be placed. The Swordfish class ships will be placed in the very center of the fleet, they are to be protected at all costs as they are the only ships we have with enough firepower to realistically harm the Borg cube. I'm not going to kid you people, those of you on the older ships are going to take heavy losses, no matter what happens. Our objective is the Borg cube, we don't know if the Cardassian and Dominion ships sure to be already engaged will prove to be friendly or hostile, at the very least they probibly turn on us once the cube is destroyed. Return fire as necessary, but otherwise ignore them. Once the cube is destroyed, all remaining ships are to return to Starbase 211 at their best speed, the more modern and powerful ships will hang behind to form the rearguard. I reiterate, the primary objective is the destruction of the Borg cube, any sacrifice is acceptible to achieve that goal. Even if none of us make it back, and the cube is destroyed, this mission will be considered a success.' And here Brian paused for a moment before continuing. "If the Borg manage to assimilate Cardassia, estimates give them three years before they completly assimilate the Alpha and Beta quadrents. People, they have to be stopped here. Because if they aren't, it will be our friends and family, and our children who will face the Borg next." A look of grim determination had come over the assembly. Brian gave an almost unnoticible nod of admiration, the odds of success were long, the odds of coming back even longer, but no one flinched. Pride filled him, this is what they were fighting for, to allow this kind of determination and strength of will to go on, and if the only way to see that done was to lay down their lives, then so be it. These people had made the choice, they had accepted when they signed up that they might die fullfilling their duty. And now that death was staring them in the face, they stood fast. The air in the room seemed filled with the determination of dozens of races. "We will have the assistance of a Klingon fleet under the command of Captain Kur'Dak. I understand that he's used every favor owed him to get this fleet assembled. Should anything happen to myself, he will be in command of the fleet, after him will be Captain Chris on the Valiant, and then Captain Samantha MacLeod on the Swordfish. Good luck, all of you, for those of you who believe in it, deity protect you, for those who don't, trust in your shields and your fellow Starfleet officers. And remember, this is the day that we proclaim with one voice, that we will not simply lie down and die because someone comes along and wishes it, we shall not go quietly into the night, we shall stand up and fight, and we shall prevail, for no other option is acceptible, or thinkable, and our foe shall show us neither mercy nor quarter. And by all the forces that cause this galaxy to spin, this is a day that shall be remebered so long as there are any to tell!" Brian's kurt, "Dismissed!", cut the cheering that started to erupt short.


Brian looked over his shoulder at his communications officer, and realised that he hadn't even had the time to learn the names of his bridge crew. He gave a little shrug. There would either be plenty of time for introductions later, or they wouldn't matter. "Inform the fleet, go to warp eight, heading, Cardassia."

IC: The quarters provided aboard the Klingon ship were dark and subdude compared to similar quarters on Federation ships, this was especially so with the lights turned nearly all the way down. They matched Brian's mood perfectly. He stood at the window, looking out at the streaks of warp light, but not seeing them. He brooded on both death and the consequences of failure, both weighed heavily on his mind, the stump where the prostetic arm was attached ached in memory of the day the Lone Wolf died.
Without any warning the door to his quarters opened, reveling a Klingon form in the doorway.
"I didn't give you permission to enter, nor do I recall you asking for such permission." Brian said without turning.
"I do not need permission to do anything from a cowardly human such as yourself." Brian recognised the voice as belonging to his First Officer, Gurkank.
"I am Captain of this ship and you will follow my orders."
"This ship should have been mine! You are not worthy of commanding a garbage scow, much less a Klingon warship."
Brian slowly turned around, and walked towards the doorway until his face was only a couple of inches from Gurkank's. "Do I understand that you intended to take command of this ship away from me?"
Gurkank gave a smile that was all teeth, with absolutely nothing pleasent about it. "I do."
Brian's right arm suddenly snapped straight down by his side and locked before detaching and starting to fall. Before it could hit the ground Brian grabbed it in his left hand and smashed Gurkank across the face with it with all the force muscles accustomed to two G's could manage. The arm clattered when it hit the metal floor as Brian grabbed the reeling Gurkank with his left hand and slammed him up against the wall. Brian leaned in until their faces were almost touching. Brian could see where Gurkank was bleeding from where the arm had hit him.
"I will explain myself once and only once. I can afford neither the time, nor the energy it would take to quell a mutiny, the best thing I could do would be to kill you right now. Fortunately for you, at the moment I don't know this ship or crew well enough to be able to command it without a first officer. But understand that this is the one and only chance you and anyone else is getting. After this, if I think someone might be even considering mutiny, I will shoot them first, and worry about promoting someone to fill their position afterwards." Brian gestured violently with the stump of his arm. "I did not lose this in a mining accident, you and this crew may think that you're the hottest things to come out of the Klingon Empire since it's founding, but until some of you can show me wounds like this, you're no more than a bunch of children I have to waste my time chaperoning when I should be killing the enemy. Now get out of my quarters." Brian accompanied this last sentence by flinging Gurkank out the still open door. A hard smile crossed his face when he heard the sound of bone impacting on the opposite wall, followed by the sounds of someone clumsily getting to their feet and leaving. Brian bent down and reattached his arm before going to stand back at the window.

OOC: Someone picked a very bad time to piss Brian off. How'd I do RPing a Klingon? Was Brian's response appropriate?

OOC: Where is everyone?

::bump::

OOC: Apologies, I've been kind of busy since I got back from the UN conference..went great, FYI. Here we go. As for my giving XO ship to Hairfield...personally, I've never been one to want that much power on my hands....not to say that Kur'Dak couldn't handle it...but I'm not sure he could. Not with what's going to happen to him during the battle. Ahem ahem.
IC:
Kur'Dak walked through the spaceport, watching as federation and klingon officers alike went running by, hurrying to their ships. He himself needed to be on board his, but he wanted to do something first. He had to find Captain Hairfield.

Kur'Dak, personally, had been quite suprised by Brians pronouncement. He was honored...and yet, simultaneously, distressed. Kur'Dak was NOT a tactical commander...he was extremely bad at such things.

Without realizing it, he bumped right into the exact man he had been looking for. Captain Hairfield. Kur'Dak didn't waste time with greetings. He quickly informed Hairfield that, should Brian die, he could have the fleet....if such a thing happened, Kur'Dak didn't want to be telling 200 ships what to do...he wanted to be slowly torturing the drone who killed Brian.

Bumpedy bump bump...BUMP BUMP
Bumpedy bump bump...BUMP BUMP

Bumpedy bump bump...BUMP BUMP
Bumpedy bump bump...BUMP BUMP

A chirp alerted Brian that someone on the bridge wanted to speak to him. "What is it?" He said.
"Sensors are begining to pick up indications of heavy fighting ahead."
"Very well, order the fleet to deploy all shuttles and fighters and move into Spearhead formation. I'll be on the bridge momentarily."
"Sir!"
As Brian headed to the bridge he couldn't help but reflect on the fact that the shuttles the older ships were carrying in many cases mounted more firepower than the ships that would launch them. They'd been hurriedly put togeather out of prefabricated components over the last week on Brian's order in order to increase the fleet's firepower.
Entering the bridge and seating himself in the Captain's chair, Brian's mind was at ease for the first time in more than a week. He had a clear objective to complete, and this time there would be no tricks, no subtly, just one giant mailed fist slamming into the enemy. There would be time for grieving later, for now there was only the fight.

"Dominion forces are moving to engage the fleet." The sensor officer reported.
"Idiots, tell the fleet to engage as they bear, but not to break formation for any reason, all efforts are to be focused on the Borg cube."

At the head of one of the largest fleets ever assembled, Brian's ship lead the charge into a seemingly solid malestrom of energy and death. "There is no honor in retreat, and there is no dishonor in death." He whispered to himself as the first blasts reached for his ship.

The Kre'Don came out of hyperspace at the head of the Klingon fleet. Kur'Dak had been sitting in the command chair for the entire trip, and finally, he had a reason to stand. "ALL SHIPS, COME TO BEAR ON THE CUBE! DEFEND YOURSELVES FROM THE CARDASSIAN AND DOMINION P'TAK IF YOU MUST, BUT THE CUBE IS THE PRIMARY TARGET!"

Even as he said it, the Klingon fleet began firing at the huge ship, doing little to no damage. Luckily, the Cube was still firing at the dominion vessels for now, so the Federation and Klingon fleets had a slight advantage.

"Captain, sensors indicate that the cube is having trouble adapting to our attacks."
"I'm not surprised, I'm willing to bet that the Borg can only adapt to so many types of weapons at once. And here they're being attacked with a couple dozen different types, en masse. Order all ships to concentrate fire on one side of the cube, we have to seize the advantage while we can."