Sam awoke to the annoying sound of tapping on her fighter's canopy. It was dark outside, so she couldn't see what it was, but decided she probably wasn't in space anymore. Immediately, her imagination conjured up all sorts of monsters and armies of enemy Mullurans and Jem'Hadar all eager to get at her. Just as quickly though, the rational side of her brain pushed those thoughts aside and suggested she find out what it was.
She reached down to where her phaser was stowed, but her right arm refused to budge. Looking down in alarm, she saw her flight suit had been ripped open by a jagged shard of metal sticking into the side of her cockpit, and through the ripped fabric dangled severed and frayed ends of fiber-op cable and myomer strands. With the index finder of her left hand, she prodded the tangled cybernetic mess that had been her right arm.
Sam had been too preoccupied with her self-inspection to notice that the insistent tapping sound from outside had stopped, but now the sudden hiss of escaping air startled her back to alertness. The canopy swung upwards, and she threw up her left arm to ward off whatever horrible creature had forced its entrance.
Outside the cockpit, a violent blizzard raged. Suddenly, a honey-blond and wind-blown mop of hair popped up over the edge of the cockpit, and attached to the mop was the worried face of Jo Schmidt. Sam exhaled in relief.
"Sam!" cried Jo. "Are you all right? I tried knocking but you didn't answer. Finally I cranked open the emergency hatch release!" Then Jo's glance fell on Sam's arm. Lubricants had leaked out of the broken cybernetic mechanisms and soaked her sleeve and uniform side making it look like she was bleeding heavily. "You're bleeding!" Jo gasped.
"No, I'm all right," Sam said, twisting in her seat so Jo could see the dangling wires sticking out of her arm. "Help me out of here, will you?" Jo reached down into the cockpit and hauled on Sam's good arm. Eventually, both women were standing on solid ground, leaning against the hull of the fighter trying to stay out of the worst of the wind.
Jo clambered back into Sam's plane and began tossing out Sam's survival gear. She talked as she worked. "After you were spun out of control by that giant cannon, I dove in after you and locked on my tractor beam. Let me tell you, it isn't easy landing two of these babies at the same time, especially when one of them is just dead weight." She indicated the long furrow gouged out of the ground trailing off in a straight line behind the two Banshees. It was already starting to get filled in with snow. "But I managed without banging them up too bad," she finished proudly.
"Tookee-tookee," said Sam, smiling. She was gathering up the stuff Jo was tossing down and attaching them one by one to her flight suit: combat tricorder, phaser pistol, field rations, canteen, first-aid kit. When she was done, she called up to Jo, "Don't forget my interface." Jo tossed down the small device, and Sam proceeded to clip it behind her right ear.
Satisfied she hadn't forgotten anything, Jo climbed back down. She asked, "I've never seen that before. What does it do?"
Sam looked a little uncomfortable. Having her wires showing was bad enough, but having attention drawn to yet another reminder that she wasn't entirely human anymore just made it worse. "It's a transceiver," she said quietly. "It'll keep me in contact with my plane's systems, including the sensors." She tapped the device and her eyes seemed to turn inward. She was "seeing" through her Banshee's sensors now. After a few seconds of this, her forehead creased with worry, and her eyes returned to the here-and-now. She turned to Jo and said, "Bad news. There's another wave of Mulluran fighters and transports coming this way."
"That's not the half of it," replied Jo. Sam looked at her quizzically, and Jo elaborated. "We crashed behind enemy lines. We're a few miles from the front."
Meanwhile, in orbit above Az'reel....
"That's the last of them," announced Carter, wiping the sweat from her brow as she watched the fourth transport explode. The Mulluran transports carrying the mega-cannons had proven exceptionally tenacious, but the combined might of the Banshees' firepower had finally done the job. "Now, let's go get Sam and--"
"Not so fast, Commander," interrupted Max. "Check your sensors. I'm reading another wave of fighters and transports heading this way.... More than the first wave...." She checked her readings. "The computer counts over 150 ships!"
"That's too much fun even for Max," commented Kim without a trace of humor in her voice. "And there's only three of us."
"We need a plan," said Carter.
Just then, a new voice came over the comm. "Looks like you ladies are in a heap o' trouble, and it's up to us Marines as usual to haul your pretty butts out!"
"Nice of you to join us, Major Boyle," replied Carter, not rising to the bait.
"Sorry we couldn't be here sooner, Commander. Been busy refueling and rearming," grated Boyle.
"I have a plan!" said Kim excitedly. "Now that the Hammerheads are here." She quickly related her idea to the rest of the team, now numbering seven: Carter, Max and herself, and now Boyle, West, Vansen and Tigre in the Hammerhead fighters. Carter and Boyle both agreed it was a risky plan, but worth a try.
The seven fighters arrayed themselves in a loose line-abreast formation, Banshee, Hammerhead, Banshee, Hammerhead, and so on. The minutes ticked by as the enemy formation drew ever closer, Max counting off the range in thousand mile increments. At eleven thousand miles, Carter softly ordered, "Fire one."
The Banshees fired their quantum cannons, but instead of remaining tight, cohesive balls of energy, the pulses rapidly expanded as they flew. By the time they reached the leading enemy fighters, the pulses had grown so large and transparent that they were almost invisible. On contact with their targets, they released what energy they had left, spraying tenuous yet still volatile plasma all throughout the enemy wave.
Meanwhile though, at the ten-thousand mile mark, Major Boyle ordered his team, "Fire two!"
The Hammerheads released their entire payload of quantum missiles. Twenty-four streaks shot toward the Mulluran line. All seven pilots anxiously watched their progress on their HUDs' tactical displays. It seemed to take an eternity for the missiles to traverse the distance, with Max again counting off the distance, but finally the count reached zero.
All hell broke loose.
The quantum missiles reached their programmed coordinates in the midst of the approaching Mulluran fleet and detonated, causing any nearby fighters to veer and buck away from the shockwaves, but the effect was far more devastating than that. The missiles also ignited the plasma from the Banshees' quantum pulses. The plasma fire spread in a split-second to engulf the entire Mulluran fleet and suddenly it seemed like all of outer space was literally on fire!
"Yahooooooo!!!" cried Kimmie.
"It's too early to celebrate," said Carter. "Switch to phasers and prepare to engage the survivors."
The plasma fire was beginning to dissipate now, and many of the enemy had indeed survived the attack. Max reported on the numbers. "The computer counts all fifteen transports, but only twenty-three fighters left."
Carter breathed a silent prayer of thanks. Kim's wild plan had destroyed the bulk of the enemy wave, and all they had left to contend with were those stubborn transports again with their deadly mega-cannons.
She and Boyle both barked the next order at the same time: "Engage!"
The seven Federation fighters swept forward and began hammering at the transports. The Hammerheads had the heavier phasers, so they concentrated on the transports, while the Banshees went after the Mulluran fighters. The transports had opened their gunports, and were filling space with the intensely bright beams from their mega-cannons. Powerful as those weapons were, they were designed for ground combat, not tracking small, fast craft, so the banshees and Hammerheads were able to dodge them.
Most of the fighter cover had been destroyed, and two of the transports as well, but the rest were falling quickly towards the atmosphere of Az'reel. If those weapons reached the Mulluran troops on the ground, they'd gain an overwhelming advantage. The Banshees and Hammerheads pressed the attack, but suddenly, the situation went from bad to worse.
Brilliant white bursts of energy were rising from the surface of Az'reel, streaking between the battling fighters, and several shots came close enough to graze the shields of West's and Carter's fighters. "What the...!" yelled West. "They've opened up on us with ground-to-space artillery!"
"Someone really doesn't want us to stop these transports from landing," grumbled Max.
"Evasive maneuvers!" shouted Carter, "But keep on those transports!"
Meanwhile, back behind enemy lines....
Sam and Jo hunched behind the crumbled remains of a wall. The blizzard had taken its toll on them, but thanks to Sam's cyber-enhanced vision and hearing, they'd managed to avoid being spotted by Mulluran patrols. They were trying to decide on their next course of action, when the entire pre-dawn sky was lit by a brilliant electric-blue light. Poking their heads above the top of the shattered wall, they searched for the source. It wasn't hard to spot.
A very large, very mean-looking muzzle protruded from the roof of a building only a couple of blocks from where they were. It was firing blast after blast up into space.
"They must be firing at Lee and the others," hissed Jo in Sam's ear. "We have to stop them."
Sam zoomed her cyber-eye up to maximum magnification, and whispered what she saw to Jo. "There's guards all around the building. We'll never get close enough." She unzoomed her eye again and hunkered back down behind the shelter of the broken wall. Tapping her interface to life, she communed with her Banshee's sensors for a few moments, then reported the situation to Jo.
Jo said, "We have to do something!"
Sam thought for a moment, then said, "I have a plan."
Out in space, the situation was getting desperate. Between the fire from the ground and that from the transports, the Banshees and Hammerheads were spending most of their time just evading and not getting in very many shots of their own. All the while, the transports flew closer and closer to the planet.
"We're not going to win this one, are we?" said Kim grimly. Even Max was sweating.
"We'll make it. We have to," ground out Carter, but secretly she doubted they'd come out of this one alive.
Down on the ground, Sam sat with her back to the crumbled section of wall. Her eyes were closed and she had a look of intense concentration on her face. The tiny neural interface behind her right ear was flashing furiously. Jo was hunched at her side, phaser in hand.
After a few minutes, a rumbling could be heard in the distance, and it was getting louder. Seconds later, a sleek winged shape could be seen flying at low altitude, approaching the space gun. The rumble grew to a roar as the Banshee zoomed by overhead. The guards around the space gun noticed the new threat and a few of them took shots at it. Sam's good arm twitched, almost as if she were really sitting in the cockpit, pulling on the joystick, and the Banshee banked hard and came around for a second pass. "Go now!" she hissed at Jo, keeping her concentration focused on flying her plane. The interface behind her ear flashed even more furiously than before.
Jo got up wordlessly and began a crouching run toward the building housing the space gun. Sam's Banshee dove toward the building too, and a rapid-fire burst of phasers peppered the ground all around the structure. Dirt and concrete exploded everywhere and most of the guards were cut down, and Jo was there to pick off the ones that weren't.
She paused for a second next to the open doorway to gather her breath, then plunged in. It was relatively dark inside, and before her eyes could adjust, and phaser blast flamed past her head. She dove for cover behind some crates, and her attacker kept her pinned there. When he finally let up, she leapt out from behind the crates, did a shoulder roll and came back up behind a table. She'd caught her attacker by surprise, and phasered him before he could react.
Outside, she could hear Sam's Banshee still keeping the guards busy, so she got up and ran for the stairs leading to the upper story. There was only one guard at the top of the stairs -- obviously they hadn't expected anyone to get this far -- and he was quickly dealt with.
The space gun sat in the center of the large room sticking out a makeshift hole in the roof. Two gunners sat at the controls, but Jo could tell they were technicians, not soldiers. One of them made as if to draw his sidearm, but Jo quickly pointed her phaser at him, and he wisely changed his mind.
Outside, the noise had died down, so Jo knew that Sam had finished her work with the guards and landed her Banshee. Still keeping an eye on the two Mullurans, she tapped her commbadge and said, "Sam. The anti-spacecraft gun is secure. I need your help."
[Be right there.]
Minutes later, Sam came bounding up the stairs, slightly winded and cradling her immobile arm, but otherwise okay. Between the two of them, they secured the two Mulluran gunners and set about reprogramming the space gun. It wasn't difficult for Jo to gain a quick understanding of the intricacies of the Mulluran machinery.
They gave the space gun new targeting parameters....
The Banshees and Hammerheads were fighting a losing battle and they knew it. The odds had just been too great this time. The lead transport was already entering the outer layers of the atmosphere, and soon would be out of reach. Although they could follow the transports down into the atmosphere, they'd then be sitting ducks for the transports still in orbit to pick off with their mega-cannons.
But when hope seems dimmest, suddenly a new light burst forth! The blasts from the ground-based weapon were veering away from the Federation fighters and were homing in on the transports. One by one the transports were being targeted, and each transport was hit dead-center, destroying it instantly in a spectacular explosion.
Once again stunned into near-speechlessness, Carter could only sit back and stare as their work was being done for them by the enemy's own weapon! Thirty seconds later, and every last transport had been obliterated, and the sky was clear for the first time in what seemed to Carter like forever.
The comm circuit came to life now and a familiar voice said, "Figured you could use a hand, Boss."
Carter smiled in relief, but it was Max who answered for her. "You sound entirely too pleased with yourself, Schmidt," she said dryly.
"You're welcome," came back the jovial reply. "Sam's here too, by the way."
"Glad to hear that," said Carter.
"There is one little thing you could do for us though," said Jo. "We're sort of stuck behind enemy lines...."