Command Deck, UES Enterprise, 2 Weeks Post-Brasilia
Captain Taisa Shevchuk of the UES Endeavor always preferred being in space. It gave her a... distance from her old home, a ruined place even still, that she'd found from the beginning she needed. Space had given her a home that she could explore without fear. Fear of old weapons, of wary survivors, of the lingering dread of war.
The Endeavor had given her the wings to fly through this new home of hers, and she'd been proud to be its captain. Now, looking out at the shipyards that tended to her ship, along with all those that had taken part in the defense of that home she still cared for to one extent or another, she couldn't help but feel that the dread that she had so desperately avoided here in space had decided to follow her up anyway.
The door to the bridge hissed open, and she looked back to see a Vulcan woman stepping through the door. "Captain Shevchuk," T'Pol said with the signature level tone all Vulcans seemed so expertly to wield. She paused, however, for just a moment. "How is your ship?"
Taisa smiled slightly. "The shipyards made her tough. It isn't going to take much to bring her back up to fighting form."
The smile vanished on the gale of a weary sigh. "Fighting form," she muttered, scoffing at the turn of phrase. "I thought we wouldn't have to worry about that so much up here."
"Did you have family or friends in New Brasilia?" T'Pol asked as she came alongside Taisa.
Taisa shook her head. "No, no. My family's from Europe. Though Ukraine, these days, is only slightly less irradiated than South America is now."
"Your part of Earth is still hostile?"
Taisa chuckled darkly. "Only as hostile as caution dictates. All of Europe is familiar with war. All of Europe, I think, is as tired of it as I am. And now, we get to go to war again. This time, against an entirely alien force, instead of our brothers and sisters."
It was silent for a moment as they both studied the ships before them. Broken for the moment, but unbowed in the face of such brazen evil as cobalt-salted munitions could prove.
"I have a friend in the Starfleet Design Bureau," Taisa said somewhat unprompted. "Says it's been a right mess, coming up with something since the attack. He swears they've almost gone to war against themselves at times. But now, we're drawing up a new ship. A bigger one than anything we've made before."
T'Pol frowned slightly. "An instinctual response to danger. Many species share the same tactic, of enlarging themselves through various means to seem more dangerous."
Taisa shrugged. "Maybe so. Call it human nature to try something like that. But a decision's been made now. No stopping that. And we'll end this as quickly as possible with this new... battleship? Dreadnought? They're still quibbling over the class designation."
"A logical decision," T'Pol remarked. "Given your species' past with warfare, I would have thought you would attempt something more... extreme."
"It's not hard to think that, is it?" Taisa said. "Given how we've almost exterminated ourselves. But enough people are tired of war. I'm tired of war. After everything, everyone, it's taken from me? From us? No. We'll strike, and we'll leave. Get on to... spreading our wings again."
She hoped it would be true. If nothing else, for those waiting for her on the other side, she'd make it as quick as she could. And damn those baying for innocent blood if they got in her way.