Two Romulan Warbirds de-cloak port and starboard. I barely have enough time to raise the shields before bright green streaks of energy cut the empty dead of space and impact our warp nacels. A hit like that would have disabled our engines. Suddenly the bridge is alive with battle reports and tactical information:
"Sir they are draining our aft shields."
"Hull integrity at seventy five percent!"
"Lining up rear torpedo tubes. Cycling through phaser arcs."
They are a good crew, and we have been through a lot together. I wonder if I do them justice as a captain. One Warbird cloaks as the other makes a full assault on our port shields…..a diversion. An attempt to lure us into a trap by exposing our fragile warp core to the cloaked Warbird. Not gonna happen. I order my engineering officer to increase power to shields and order my tactical officer to concentrate fire on the attacking warbird's dorsal shields. I watch as we gracefully swing above the Warbird and unload our phaser banks. Success! Their dorsal shields collapse and I see the atmosphere start to vent from a fracture in their hull. Desperate, the second Warbird de-cloaks and opens fire on us from above. With one Warbird venting atmosphere and the other in range of our phasers, I order the engineering officer to re-route all engine power to shields and weapons.
This is it, all or nothing. I know it, my crew knows it, the Warbirds know it.
Rotating through our phaser arcs, I manually target the limping Warbird's warp core. Our shields have been breached and the dull metallic thud of disrupter blasts, resonate in the smoky air of the bridge. I fire a volley of photon torpedos, then quickly turn towards the other Warbird. No time to watch the fireworks….
The screen shakes and the lights flicker as we take hit after hit.
"Sir hull integrity at twenty five percent!"
"We have lost our rear torpedo tubes."
I ignore the chatter of my officers as I bear down on the Romulan Warbird, conducting a zero gravity ballet, firing everything we have left into the Warbird's bridge. I hope to blind the enemy, disable their sensors then pick them off as they fumble and fire aimlessly.
Success! Their sensors are down and their weapons can't lock onto us. I fall back, distancing myself to prevent them from getting lucky with their wild shots.
"Sir they are preparing to warp."
No! Those cowards! I am left to do little more than shake my fist as the Warbird's engines flash and she is gone. I sigh and order a damage report. Shields at fifteen percent, hull integrity at ten percent, long range scanners offline, reserve power at thirty five percent.
No doubt they went for backup, soon they will have returned and we would surely perish. Thankfully our engines work still. I order the helmsmen to set a course for Starbase 12, maximum warp.
I lean back in my chair and stretch. The phone rings and I hit escape to pause the game. It is my boss, asking about some report one of my subordinates filed. Doesn't he know I am a decorated starship captain?
Maximum warp to the real world where the women are never green and you actually have to make food with your hands. At least I can pop in a hot pocket and pretend the microwave is a replicater, maybe one from the original series, I am not THAT vain.