Reality Continues to Ruin My Life

Posted on 14 Jun 2015 @ 4:42am by Commander Terry Walsh

1,008 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: History
Location: USS Saratoga & space
Timeline: 2373 (August), 2375 (16 May)

<2373, August, USS Saratoga, Mess Hall, 1805>

In February, Lt. Walsh was transferred to the USS Saratoga, an Akira Class Heavy Cruiser. It was a veritable launching pad for Marine air combat missions. It was here that Terry met up with his old flight school friend, Mark Shelby. Terry was in the mess hall one evening chowing down on a fifteen ounce New York Strip and lamenting how it didn’t taste like charcoal, when a hand landed on his shoulder.

“I’d recognize that shaved head anywhere! What’ve you been up to, Rocco?”

Terry looked up to see Lt. Mark Shelby smiling down at him. He swallowed his bite of steak, stood up, and clapped his buddy on the arm. “Man, I haven’t heard that name in a long time. What are you doing here?”

Terry waved a guy over and got Mark a steak just like his. They sat down and caught up on old times. But those times of reminiscing would soon be drowned in a flood of tragic sorrow. Later that year, war broke out with the Dominion.

<2375, 16 May, USS Saratoga, 1455>

May 16, 2375 is a day that will be forever scarred into the memory of Terry Walsh. The Saratoga picked up a distress call from a Federation outpost. Dominion forces had entered orbit and were transporting Jem’Hadar to the surface. The Saratoga was going to try and disrupt the orbiting ships while transporting people en masse. Two of the Marine fighter squadrons were to provide support to the Saratoga while the other two took to the planet. Walsh and Shelby were wingmen in one of the squadron’s that stayed in space. As their squadron was taking off, the Saratoga sent out a call to any Alliance vessel in the vicinity for reinforcements and evac assistance.

The battle escalated. Another Jem’Hadar and Cardassian ship dropped out of warp.

“Rocco, did you see that,” radioed Shelby.

“Yeah,” replied Walsh. “They’re like a Hydra. You cut off one head and another is ready to take its place.” That was an understatement; Dominion reinforcements had arrived before Federation ones.

Terry activated his comm link. “Major, how about we take out that Jem’Hadar ship before it gets more boneheads down there?”

“Good idea, Lieutenant. The last thing our surface men need is more soldiers to take out. Gold squadron, concentrate on the Jem’Hadar ship.”

Shelby hit his comm, “ROCKO!”

Walsh answered, “POLO!” And the two fighters bolted to the ship.

In a matter of minutes, two squadrons of expertly piloted Typhoon fighters took out the weapons systems and transporters of the Jem’Hadar ship. They deployed their ablative armor and began moving out of range as they prepared a volley of micro-quantum torpedoes. On the Major’s signal they all began firing. The target…the Jem’Hadar warp core. Everyone watched as the ship exploded. Then it happened. The Cardassian warship plowed through the debris, using the brightness of the explosion as cover, and opened fire on the unsuspecting Marines.

Terry watched in horror as the Major’s fighter disintegrated along with several others, including the Captain’s. The next voice heard on the comm system was Terry’s. “Form up on me, standard attack pattern, skim it! GO!” In their standard attack pattern, they headed straight toward the oncoming warship. At last moment, they pulled up and skimmed the top the ship, firing their phasers as they went.

“Break! Let ‘em have it!” Everyone broke formation, found his wingman, and went to work. The Saratoga had finished the evacuation, but still had the Dominion warship to deal with. Terry heard the comm activate as the other squadrons broke through the upper atmosphere. “We’re on our way! Hold on!” Which was followed by another voice, “The USS Rameses and the USS Orion at your service.” Terry looked up in time to see the Sovereign and Nebula class drop out of warp. The two ships immediately opened fire, helping protect the Saratoga. Other fighters were launched from the ships to aid the already tiring Marines from the Saratoga.

Terry and Mark were coming around for another pass at one of the primary disruptors. Terry was in the lead. Then something unexpected happened. The warship banked slightly and a Jem’Hadar attack ship came out from underneath, weapons a blazin’. Terry and Mark broke apart, taking damage from the attack. The attack ship spun and was coming back to finish the job by the time the Marines came around. Mark didn’t say anything, but his shields were at fifteen percent and his structural integrity field was all but gone. His fighter was the main target of the ensuing firefight. His small warp engine was hit. The only thing he could do now was try to get far enough away from Terry so as not to kill him when his ship exploded. He didn’t quite make it. The shockwave of the explosion sent Terry’s fighter hurtling backwards. He had absolutely no control, two of the wings were missing, and he was losing consciousness. The ablative armor absorbed some of the explosion. The last thing Terry remembers before he passing out is Mark’s last words… “It’s not your fault, buddy.”

By the time 2376 rolled around and the Treaty of Bajor was signed, ending the Dominion War, the Corps had lost lots of good men and women. And so had Starfleet. It had been a long three years. Some of the Marines were getting med-boarded out and others were being transferred to less demanding places and assignments. For example, quite a few of Terry’s friends were getting orders to be instructors at flight school. That’s not what he wanted. It never was. He liked flying and there was nothing else he wanted to do. But there wasn’t much of a call for Marine combat pilots anymore. But he still put in for duty at an active squadron. The Corp finally found one on a Sovereign class ship, the USS Xerxes.

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