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"Red Alert!" shouted Captain Carol Freeman. "All hands! Prepare for—"
The USS Cerritos lurched violently under the volley of their assailant.
"Figures," muttered Mariner under breath as her hands danced on the ship's conn panel, pulling the Cerritos out of only the most immediate danger. "The one time we make First Contact, and Commander Libido has to hit on the delegate's daughter."
"Lt. Shaxs. Target their weapon systems. Fire on my command," ordered Freeman.
"Target locked," reported the burley Bajoran.
"Oh shi—" swore Mariner, looking at her console. It reported that there was another sharp build up of energy in the enemy ship's forward weapon. Mariner slapped her hand on the maneuvering thrusters, and the Cerritos nosedived.
"All hand, brace for impact!" shouted Freeman.
Despite Mariner's best efforts, the Cerritos did not evade in time. The ship rocked hard. Consoles exploded. Ensign Brad Boimler, who was stationed at the ever important environmental station, was flown from his post over the security console. Most of the bridge crew was knocked off their feet.
Shaxs pulled himself up. "Every one good." He then noticed Captain Freeman. "By the Prophets!"
Captain Freeman had a chunk of bulkhead lodged in her chest. The one blessing was that she was unconscious and thus unable to experience the full extent of the pain she must be in."
Someone tapped their combadge. "Bridge to sickbay. Medical Emergency."
Moments later, Dr. T'ana marched out of the turbolift with Tendi in tow. The chief medical officer wasted no time in working to stabilize her while Tendi read her tricorder.
"Her left lung is punctured. Four broken ribs. Left Gastral artery is ruptured , but she's still alive," reported Tendi.
"Barely," muttered Dr. T'ana. "We need to get her into surgery."
"Right," replied Tendi. "Should… should I grab her by the arms or…?"
"Actually," interrupted Bolimer. "As ranking officer, your place is on the bridge." He beamed.
The caitian stared unblinking at Brad. "… what?" she said flatly.
Mariner couldn't help roll her eyes. She liked Brad as a friend, she really did, but that boy had zero sense for knowing when action was needed and when to cite regulations. She plotted a course to where (she hoped at least) the enemy weapon's blind spot was.
"By jove, he's right!" added the chief of security. "With both the captain and first officer out of commission, you are our next in command," he said as he pointed to T'ana's pips indicating the rank of commander.
The doctor looked at the captains chair with dispassion. Then glanced back at the suffering form of Captain Freeman, with slightly less dispassion. "With wounded, I couldn't possibly leave my current duties to—"
"Ah, it's okay. I've got this," Tendi said with a forced smile as she finished carefully dragged the captain into the turbolift.
The CMO didn't bother to hide an aggravated hiss as she watched the Orion disappear behind turbo lift doors. She nonetheless sat down in the captain's chair begrudgingly.
"Your orders, Dr. T'ana?" said Shaxs.
"Attack pattern… del… ta?" asked Dr. T'ana. It sounded like something she was supposed to say in this situation.
Mariner cursed under-breath. She didn't exactly know how they were going to get out of this mess, but attack pattern delta lay firmly in the 'bad idea' category. Unfortunately, as it involved coordination with tactical, she couldn't override her orders with another one of her own maneuvers. "Aye. Attack pattern… delta." she confirmed.
It wasn't three seconds before the ship was struck again.
"Shields down to 47%" reported the Trill at opps. "Cetacean Opps reports a rupture on deck 5, and now all of deck 6 is submerged."
"Ceta-what now?" asked Dr. T'ana.
"Dr. T'ana. I recommend we eject the warp core," said Shaxs.
"Yeah, whatever. Do it," replied T'Ana as she flung her hands out in the air in equal parts indifference and defeat. She was a doctor, not a warrior.
Mariner's jaw dropped. She spun her chair around. "No, wait! You can't do tha—"
"Too late, core's ejected," said the self righteous security chief.
The Cerritos lurched again, not from another hit from the enemy weapon, but rather the concussive shockwave from the core irrupting after being hit by a photon torpedo. Systems went offline, lights flickered, and Boimler went flying again. He hit the comm station and left a sizable crack on the display when his head met the panel.
"Shields are off line!" shouted the distressed Trill at opps.
"Oh god. This is how I'm going to die," muttered Mariner as she planted her face in her palms.
Dr. T'ana ignored the chaos and traveled to where Boimler lay. "He's got a concussion," she stated after looking him over.
"Here, let me help you with that," said Mariner as she slid back her console. Technically, she shouldn't abandon her post like that, but helm had just gone offline anyway.
An idea came to her. It was wild, and had a million very obvious ways it could fail… but if the command crew was as oblivious of the lower decks as she suspected…
"Dr. T'ana. You've got something on your neck there," said Mariner as she undid one of the Caitian's command pips and attached it to her lapel.
Dr. T'ana opened her mouth, only to shut it again as she watched Mariner swipe Boilmer's pip and added it as well. She looked at Mariner's makeshift rank, then to Boilmer, then to the turbo lift.
"I should have you written up," hissed T'Ana just out of earshot of the rest of the bridge crew. It wasn't difficult. Between Shaxs shouting and Rutherford trying (and failing) to out out a fire on the back consoles, there was plenty of foreground noise.
"Go right ahead," replied Mariner. "But that'll cost you your one chance to get back to sickbay."
The Doctor growled. Literally, she growled. And for the briefest of moments, Mariner thought the only thing preventing her from having her eyes clawed out was the hippocratic oath.
But instead, the Caitian gutturally cleared he throat. Mariner was half convinced she was going to hack up a fur ball in the process. "I'm needed in sickbay."
"But Doctor," started Shaxs.
"No 'but Doctor'," snapped T'ana. "I'm…" she hesitated, preemptively hating the words that were about to come out of her mouth. "I'm deferring command to Commander…"
"Oh uh…" Mariner hadn't quiet thought this far ahead. "… Riker," settled the Ensign, "Commander Becket Riker."
Shaxs squinted his eyes. "Commander Riker? As in the Enterprise's former commander Riker?"
Mariner puffed out her chest. "He's a distant relative."
The security chief studied Mariner and her three golden pips. He looked about to say or ask something when the ship rocked again.
"Hull breach!" shouted the Trill opps officer. "Starboard nacelle is venting plasma."
Not waiting for Shaxs to start his interrogation, she marched over to the captain's chair. "Get repair crews on it. Rutherford, put down that extinguisher and get on the conn. Lt. Shaxs, when the aperture on that weapon opens, I need a photon torpedo there to greet it. Can you do that?"
"Aye sir!"
Once the dust settled, here was only the slimmest of chances that Mariner wasn't going to get fired for this… she only hoped she would get to see Boimler's face when he learned that she got to command the Cerritos long before he could.