The general alert siren sounded no sooner than Tarik had left his office. The station was being boarded!
"Tarik to Operations-what's our status?"
<Just about anywhere you can name, we've got hostiles! If you've got a plan in place, you'd better start using it!>
"Acknowledged. Tarik out." Then, on a separate circuit: "Major Tarik to all Marine personnel-execute Operation Plan Gamma Five!" he ordered as he once again strapped on his combat gear.
Gamma Five broke the MEF up into roving squads performing a quartered search of the entire station. Combined and in coordination with the station's Security personnel, the teams would work from the central hub of the station outward, pushing the invaders off.
But first, one had to get to the central hub of the station.
A Jem'Hadar trooper beamed in directly in front of Tarik, who was just barely able to react in time. Tarik brought up his phaser rifle and burned the Jem'Hadar through the chest. Footsteps behind him told him there were more where that came from.
"Computer, initiate Level 9 force field along Corridor 22, between Frame 1024 and 1026. Authorization Tarik-mu-339." The force field snapped into place, trapping three Son'a, but not before Tarik could throw a grenade into the contained area. The force field held the blast, sizzling and snapping as various Son'a body parts interacted with its energy matrix.
"Computer, release force field." The force field dropped, a wave of hot gases washing over Tarik as the containment ceased.
Tarik continued on his way, finding two Security crewmen engaged in a running gun battle with three Son'a. The Security men, equipped only with hand phasers, were hopelessly outmatched. Tarik moved in behind one. "Fall back, Ensign-they're trying to drain your charge so they can overrun you," he ordered. No sooner than he gave the command than the ensign's phaser gave out. "I'll cover your retreat. Fall back to Deck 20; there's an armory there. Draw phaser rifles and grenades and meet me here," Tarik ordered, handing the Security ensign his own sidearm. "If we get cut off, proceed to Engineering; that's where the boarders are likely headed."
"Aye, sir." The Security crewmen fell back as Tarik covered them. A huge gout of energy surged down the corridor, singing Tarik's side as it incinerated the two retreating men.
That does it! Tarik thought as he armed and threw another grenade. Whatever that heavy weapon the Son'a employed had been, it wasn't anymore. Neither were the Son'a.
"Tarik to Hartman-what's our status?"
<"The boarders appear to be concentrated at the center of the station. They're working their way to Engineering and Operations, sir.">
"Stay on plan," Tarik said, checking his helmet readout. Sure enough, squads had fanned out through the Operations section on search-and-destroy missions. "I'll meet you at Section 3. Have your reserves ready!"
Five minutes and three Jem'Hadar later, Tarik arrived at Section 3, the hub joining the Engineering section of the station with the Command decks and crew quarters. As such, it was the most strategic position on the station. Had the station not been evacuated, Tarik was sure there would have been chaos as the civilian residents of the ship were overrun by the boarders.
"Sir, we've got teams moving up the radial arms toward the commerce pylons, sweeping for boarders. I've kept a platoon in reserve," Hartman reported.
"A platoon may not be enough if they're doing what I think they're doing," Tarik replied. "Do we still have any of our heavy stuff?"
"Everything we brought back from Thermopylae, plus a few more anti-tank weapons I was able to get from the armory before things went to hell. There's also a crew-served phaser cannon here, too," Hartman replied, indicating the weapon. It was assembled on a tripod behind a makeshift barricade.
"Gunny, take the reserve platoon and relieve Engineering; let me know your progress. Leave me a loader for this weapon. I think we're going to have more company soon and we need the Engineering and Weapons section in our hands."
"Major, are you sure this is the right thing?" Hartman asked, for once without a hint of sarcasm or bravado.
"This is the least-defensible and most critical position on this station," Tarik replied. "If the enemy gets this section, they can cut off the Command decks and Engineering. Security from what I can tell is getting the job done topside; as soon as the search squads clear the commerce pylons I'll send them to reinforce where I see fit. Someone's got to defend this position and monitor what's going on, and someone else has to relieve Engineering. You're the best man for the relief mission; I'm the only one who can monitor this whole thing. Now get me a loader and move!"
"Aye, sir," Hartman said, the gleam in his eye belying his uncertain tone of voice. "All right, maggots! Fall in! Salonnen, load for the Major-the rest of us, we're headed to Engineering!"
Private Tikhon Salonnen trotted over to the gun emplacement where Tarik was checking his sight picture. Stacked next to the gun were several cases of charge cartridges-each cartridge good for ten shots with the immensely powerful phaser. The big Finn slapped a cartridge into the receiver of the weapon, and grinned.
The Son'a must have been monitoring the troop dispositions aboard the station because no sooner than Hartman's platoon left then another twenty Son'a and Jem'Hadar warriors beamed into the section. "Private, cover my back. When I say reload, reload," Tarik ordered.
Immediately Tarik cut open with the phaser cannon, reducing boarders to cinders with every shot (and doing no small amount of damage to the interior of the Commerce section in the process. Salonnen, rifle in hand, covered Tarik's back as he pivoted around. "Reload!" Tarik shouted, and the private slammed another cell into the receiver. The team went back to its deadly duty. Somewhere behind him Tarik heard a shout of "Hakka Pulalla!"-an ancient Finnish battle cry. "Cut them down!!!"
"Reload!" Tarik yelled, only this time no cell found its way into the receiver. "What the hell's going on here?" he demanded, then turned to see the charred remains of Tikhon Salonnen. Ukko had led the latter-day Lemminkainen home.
Tarik turned around to see a surviving Jem'Hadar jump into the foxhole with him. Almost by reflex Tarik drew his knife--not twice in one day!--and gut-stabbed the attacker. Grabbing Salonnen's rifle, Tarik smashed the butt repeatedly against his attacker's head until he heard a splintering sound. Whether that was the rifle or the Jem'Hadar's head Tarik was uncertain, but the foe did not rise again.
Tarik then ejected the drained cell from the cannon. The Commerce section was quiet-almost too quiet. Upon checking his helmet display, Tarik noted that the teams sent to sweep the pylons had almost completed their chores. "Tarik to Hartman-what's going on down there?"
<We've just about got the area secured, sir! You were right-there had to be fifty or more of them down here! We've taken a few casualties but we're holding our own!>
"Stay on station; I expect we'll have more company!" Tarik ordered as he slapped another cell into the receiver.
"Need any help?" an oddly familiar voice asked. Tarik turned around and saw Troy.
"What the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be dirtside!"
"There was an accident; some of us had to come back to the station. Lieutenant Deveraux mended my legs, but I'm just getting in the way in the infirmary," he replied. "I was trying to locate any wounded who couldn't get to the infirmary on their own. We heard you had been killed," Troy added.
"'The rumor of my death is an exaggeration,'" Tarik quoted in reply. "Old Marines never die-we just go to Hell and regroup! Now, if you really want to help, get in here and reload! Just make sure the arrow on the cell matches the arrow on the receiver, and slap it in hard! In the meantime, keep your head down! Don't end up like Salonnen there, or else I'm going to have a bitch of a time explaining what happened to your sister!"
"Is he regrouping?" Troy asked, looking at the charred body.
"You might say that," Tarik added without color or comment. "Second wave!"
Another group of invaders appeared. Tarik opened fire. Like clockwork, whenever Tarik called for a reload, Troy responded with a fresh cell. More Son'a and Jem'Hadar fell over Tarik's sights. The air became rank with the smell of burnt flesh and other oddities.
<"Command deck to all units-cease fire! I say again, cease fire! The attacking force has been repelled!">
Tarik's finger eased off the firing stud. Cheering could be heard throughout the station. "Troy, you're a damned good loader. If you would be so kind as to case up these depleted cells in their original cases, I would appreciate it. Thank you for your help," he said as he safed the weapon and stepped out of the barricade. "When you get back to the infirmary, let Kassia know I'm alive and well and that I'll be with her as soon as I account for my people." Troy nodded, a little awestruck at what he had just witnessed.
"Tarik to Hartman, what's our status in Engineering?"
<"All secured, sir. We've got four dead and three wounded; Engineering took quite a few more than that. We've got at least seventy dead enemy boarders here!">
"Very good. Stand down and get your people to the infirmary."