Suddenly, the Captain's combadge chirped with an urgent trill. "O'Reilly to Praxas."
"What is it, Neil? I'm a little busy at the moment!" Anzyl shouted back, his hands weaving through the air to direct his Nouliths in a defensive perimeter.
"I think we've worn out our welcome, Captain. Multiple Fek'ihri vessels are emerging from hidden bay doors across the station's exterior. I don't need to tell you how this ends. The Alliant will hold them off as long as we can, but you need to get your teams out of there before the Nexus is forced to raise shields".
With a heavy sigh, Anzyl acknowledged the grim reality of being horribly outnumbered. "Agreed. Alright, team—it's time to move. We'll have to finish this place off from the outside. Retreat to the turbolift! Neil, signal all other teams to evac immediately!".
The quartet retreated, firing frantic volleys over their shoulders as they sprinted toward the lift. They scrambled past the massive, empty vats of Ketracel-white and rounded the final corner leading to the turbolift hallway. Just as the doors came into sight, the very structure of the station began to rattle and groan. Something massive was stirring on the other side of the bulkhead.
"Keep going! Run!" Anzyl cried.
Suddenly, a door to the left of the turbolift was torn from its hinges. A behemoth of a creature—a genetic abomination—lumbered into the hall. Its shoulders scraped the ceiling, and it was forced to duck its ridged, massive head just to fit into the corridor. It appeared as though the Founders had pumped every available growth hormone into a Klingon-Fek'ihri hybrid to see how much mass a single frame could hold before collapsing.
"WHAT IS THAT?!" Stitch cried, skidding to a halt.
"It's blocking our exit," Anzyl yelled, his Nouliths pivoting to rain fire upon the monstrosity. "That's what it is!".
All four honed their fire on the beast. It roared, raising scaled, plated arms to shield its vitals as it lumbered toward them.
"That thing can take a serious beating!" Alia shouted, her phaser pistol whining as the tip glowed red-hot.
Zide'Mok, ever the battle tactician, spotted an opening in a laboratory to their right. With a solemn nod, he aimed his rifle and fired a precise shot into the monster's eyes, blasting one out in a spray of dark ichor. The abomination recoiled in agony, turning its primal rage toward its assailant.
Zide'Mok waved his arms, drawing the beast's focus. "Over here, you giant, slime-covered sack of steroids! Come and get me!".
Anzyl watched in horror as the giant turned to give chase. "Z! What are you doing? Get back here!".
But Zide'Mok stood firm, meeting the Captain's gaze one last time. "Victory is Life, Captain... and my life has been long." He held up a plasma grenade, his thumb hovering over the igniter. "Long enough." With a blood-curdling battle cry, he sprinted into the laboratory with the abomination in hot pursuit, clearing the path to the turbolift.
The remaining team wasted no time. As the turbolift doors hissed shut, Anzyl took one last look down the Fek'ihri-infested hallway before the lift rocketed toward the surface. A distant explosion rattled the cage, sparking the lights and shaking the frame, until the familiar flash of the transporter finally engulfed them.
—
"We've got them, sir!" Keten called out from the bridge Engineering station. "Well, three of them, at least".
"Three?" Kayuli asked from the Captain's chair. "There were four still on the station".
Keten shook his head, looking at his sensors in confusion. "Only the Captain, First Officer, and Stitch were in the lift, sir. I have no reading on Zide'Mok anywhere on the station".
Kayuli took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Victory is Life... until it's not." He shook off the grief and turned back to his console. "Helm, get us out of range. Red Alert! Raise shields and man all battle stations!".
The bridge dimmed as the klaxons began their rhythmic wail. Anzyl and Alia materialized on the pads a moment later.
"Captain on the bridge!" Kayuli announced, stepping away from the center chair. As Anzyl sat, Kayuli whispered, "And Zide'Mok?"
Anzyl gave a single, silent shake of his head—a quiet acknowledgment of a fallen comrade. "No time to mourn, Kayuli." Then sat and looked forward, dutiful as ever, "All weapons?"
"Fully operational, Captain," Veirik reported from Tactical.
"Fire at will!"
—
Outside, dozens of Fek'ihri vessels in various stages of completion emerged from the asteroid. The Nexus unleashed its Octo-Omnidirectional beam array, the multicolored beams boring through the unfinished hulls like they were paper. Many of the ships lacked even basic shielding. Seeing the devastation, the operational Fek'ihri vessels broke formation and warped away, leaving streaks of light in the darkness.
—
The bridge fell silent.
"Did the Fek'ihri just... leave the battle?" Anzyl muttered, stunned.
"It seems so, sir," Veirik replied. "No active hostiles in range".
"I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth," Keten huffed.
"Agreed," Anzyl said, coming back to his senses. "Well, team, we achieved what we set out to do. We finally have the answers the Alliance needs." He turned to Heluna at Comms. "Tell the Alliant to redock. Everyone back on board." To Lussaalli at Helm, he added, "Set a course for the Umbral gateway. Take us back to Solanae Dyson Joint Command".
He stood and turned to Alia. "Alia, you have the bridge. I have to break the news to our Jem'Hadar".
She nodded and took his seat in the Captain's Chair.
Anzyl marched to the teleport pads and simply stated, "Barracks,", standing tall on the transporter pad before vanishing in a flash of light.
—
Anzyl materialized in the Nexus barracks, a place he usually avoided. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and recycled atmosphere—a place few of the "Lower Decks" crew ever ventured. As he stepped off the pad, he saw a massive crowd of warriors—Jem'Hadar, Klingons, Orions, and Hirogen—circling a makeshift ring. The sounds of fists hitting flesh and guttural shouting filled the air.
"Captain on deck!" someone shouted.
The crowd scrambled to look busy, trying to hide their underground fight club. In the center of the ring, a bloodied Orion man stood over a wheezing Jem'Hadar warrior who was struggling on his hands and knees.
The Orion grinned wildly at Anzyl. "Captain! You're just in time!".
"Just in time for what?" Anzyl asked, his face a mask of solemnity.
"For me to be crowned the next Second!" the Orion blurted out. He was a behemoth, standing over seven feet tall, had muscles on muscles, and clad in Syndicate battle harness.
Anzyl stepped into the ring and looked at the Orion, then down at the Jem'Hadar who was slowly finding his feet. "I have bad news for you, then. You are not the Security department's Second." He pointed to the Jem'Hadar. "He is".
The crowd roared in protest. "But I won the right of succession!" the Orion retorted.
Anzyl held up a hand for silence. "Because you are now my First." He addressed the room, his voice echoing. "Zide'Mok, your First, has fallen in a glorious battle. He saved my life and the lives of two other crew members".
A somber silence fell over the warriors as they stood tall in respect.
"So," Anzyl said, looking back at the Orion. "Mr...?"
"Gaimmak. Gaimmak, Lord of the Bulwark Mountains," the giant replied, bowing dutifully.
Anzyl looked up at the giant of an Orion, "Bulwark Mountain is an understatement…" Then he jetted out a hand to shake the giant's, "Congratulations, Gaimmak. You are now First of the Nexus Security department. I hope you like paperwork." Anzyl slapped the giant on the back and turned to the crowd. "But for now, let us raise a glass to Zide'Mok. Let me tell you of the glorious battle that claimed a hero".
A cheer erupted through the barracks as the wake began—a multicultural tribute to a fallen warrior on a ship unlike any other in the stars.