Guess who's coming to dinner?

[Adm Day 0]

Admiral Day sat in the Command Chair of the bridge, his face portraying a look of concentration, as if, by force of will alone, he could keep the battered Morningstar in one piece, and complete the journey back to Camelot Station. They were maintaining a lead on the pursuing force, though barely. He did not want to push the overtaxed engines of the ship any harder, as his present tactic deemed that he arrive at the station reasonably intact, even if only a few minutes ahead of the enemy.

 

They were hopelessly outnumbered. Sensors were still under repair and information was still sketchy, but indications were the force was a large one. He reviewed his tactics, again, and wondered if he was doing the right thing. The Romulan ships had bought them enough time to escape, at a sacrifice to themselves. He shook his head, again, at this. One moment they seemed bent on double-crossing him at every opportunity, and the next, they do something like this. He would never understand the Romulan psyche.

 

Now, here he was, leading a large enemy force back to his own home base. Were his tactics sound?

 

He shook his head again. It was no use thinking that way. Even if the ship was in pristine condition, and they turned to fight, they might take one or two ships, if they were lucky, but the rest would soon overwhelm the Morningstar. Then the fleet would, most likely, continue on to Avalon, anyway, now that their cover had been blown. No, they must get to Camelot first, so they could turn and fight with the Allied Fleet at their backs, and the power of Camelot defenses to turn the tide. If they were victorious, it would mean a devastating blow to the Hundred Rebellion. If not… well… he HAD been dreaming of retirement a while ago. …assuming he survived the battle, of course.