Taking You With Me

With a bright flash the U.S.S. Prospero exploded, chunks of the aged Miranda-class starship spreading in all directions and illuminating the shields of any other vessel they collided with. Sitting at the conn of the Intrepid-class U.S.S. Pandora Commander Christina Pressfield, the one in command despite officially being the second officer, hurriedly altered her ship's course, diving away from where the Prospero had been.
"Any luck getting through to Starfleet?" The young woman grimly holding onto the ops console shook her head when Pressfield glanced at her. "What about identifying the Jem'Hadar flagship?"
"There's a lot of chatter between the bugs. The big one isn't transmitting much."
Pressfield turned back to her station, checking one of the screens for a second. The battle cruiser was facing off against an Ambassador, looking like it was going to win the contest, while fifteen attack ships were duelling with the rest of the task force.
"Find me their flagship Lieutenant Cain. There's a torpedo or two with its name on them."

The skirmish was just one of hundreds along the border between the Federation and Dominion-occupied space. The Jem'Hadar had swept in, their first attack run taking out three ships and leaving Pressfield as the ranking officer aboard the Pandora. Bringing the ship out of the dive she immediately threw it into a climb, falling in behind an attack ship. Phaser beams and a torpedo turned the Jem'Hadar vessel into an expanding cloud of gas and metal fragments, the Pandora flying through the debris like a phoenix from ashes, and Pressfield grinned with a savage pleasure.

The grin faded though when she was almost flung from her seat, the thankfully-empty science station to her left exploding as an energy relay overloaded. Stretching as she righted herself Pressfield tapped out a command that sent the Pandora arcing starboard, a polaron beam flashing harmlessly past.
"Tactical, take out that bug! I'll get us back to the rest of the fleet."
There was a low shudder as a torpedo was launched and Pressfield turned some attention to her screen to watch its progress. The symbols of the torpedo and the attack ship pursuing them merged, the attack ship uncontrollably spiralling away from the skirmish.

A third attack ship fell to the Pandora's weapons as the Intrepid-class vessel made its own run, the captain of the ship they'd rescued transmitting a message of thanks. Guiding the Pandora on a course that skirted the heaviest fighting Pressfield reached up to tug open her uniform jacket, revealing the wine-red turtleneck beneath, and spun to look at the other crew on the bridge. Cain was still at ops, her knuckles whitened by how tight her grip was, and Lieutenant Commander Mack was at the tactical station, the man's left arm hanging limp at his side.
"I want status reports."
There was a moment of silence as Pressfield's spin ended with her facing the viewscreen again, wincing as another starship exploded.
"There are hull breaches on Decks 6 and 7, port-side. All sections are reporting casualties and injuries of some kind."
"The shields can't cycle above 36%. We're running low on phaser energy and torpedoes."

One torpedo was expended keeping an Excelsior alive as it slowly withdrew from the skirmish, Pressfield swinging the Pandora round towards a trio of attack ships the moment the projectile was fired. The starship was rocked by weapons-fire, Mack crying out in pain as the screens of the tactical station shattered, and Pressfield risked looking over her shoulder. The lieutenant commander was clutching his face and staggered into the console behind him, just as a surge of electricity passed through it. Returning her attention to her controls, trying to ignore Mack's agonized scream, Pressfield rerouted tactical to a portion of the conn, aiming at an attack ship and stabbing the 'fire' symbol.

Nothing happened and she glanced at Cain.
"Are the tactical systems on-line?" The lieutenant shook her head after a moment and Pressfield swore. "Make it a priority. Pull off every trick you know."
A starship became just a star, silhouetting the Jem'Hadar vessels, and Cain let out a gentle sigh of despair.
"The U.S.S. Andromeda has been destroyed and I'm reading three large vessels approaching at high warp. The order's gone out to retreat."
"Just tell me you've identified their flagship Lieutenant. We're not leaving just yet."
The lieutenant manipulated her console and a particular symbol was highlighted on Pressfield's screen.
"That's the one sir. But we have no weapons remember."
There was a note of sadness in Pressfield's voice when she responded, the commander glancing at the bodies littering the bridge.
"I know Lieutenant. But the ship itself can be a weapon. It's been an honour serving with you."

The Pandora agilely darted around the attack ships it had been heading for, shields collapsing as they sent beam after beam at the Intrepid-class starship. Pressfield tried to not think of her crew as Cain began calling out locations where the hull was being breached, her focus solely on the tagged Jem'Hadar vessel, and a sense of calm came over her when it was suddenly in front of her. Time to use a Jem'Hadar tactic against them.