As sort of a pep talk for the world during these trying times. A repost . . .
************Honor at the Bat*************
by cthia
The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Home Fleet ships that day;
The score stood four to two with but two more fleets to play;
And then when D'Orville died up first and Kuzak did the same
A sickening silence fell on the ships that had remained.
A straggling few rose up to fight but only in despair,
They knew they'd only die, in haughty grandeur there.
Clinging to their stations, hope eternal in the breast;
All we need is Sally—Mander she's our best.
They thought, if only Honor could get but a whack at that,
They'd put up even credits, now, with Honor at the bat.
But Chin preceded Honor in shaping what's at stake,
When Smirnoff's LACs chimed in, holy hell had lit the cake.
Upon that stricken list of ships melancholy sat,
There seemed but little chance of Honor getting to the bat.
But McKeon let rip a single, raised hell in Genevieve's packs
And Alice Truman's Katanas tore the hell outta Haven's LACs.
When debris had shifted, CIC plotted what had occurred
Although plenty was left of Second, just enough was left of Third.
Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled in the quadrant, it echoed 'Oh? Do tell.'
A prayer went thru the junction and an answer came at that,
For Honor—mighty Honor, was advancing to the bat.
There was ease in Honor's manner as she hypered into place;
There was purpose to Honor's bearing, and scorn on Honor's face.
And when she ignored the remnants, of Third Fleet in the realm,
No single spacer could ever doubt, 'twas Honor at the helm.
Thousands counted on her as she wiped her hands like dirt
Had settled between her fingers, but the brass gleamed on her shirt.
While the cocky Genevieve placed hands upon her hips
Defiance gleamed in Honor's eye, a sneer curled Honor's lips.
The enormous salvo shot from the massive pods she'd rolled;
Genevieve said, "No worry, they're too far out I'm told."
But then Chin contemplated 'of all the lunacy in the land,
If Third Fleet was just destroyed, then who was this at hand?'
Close by sturdy Apollo, the missiles unheeded sped –
"They're much too far to reach," said Chin, "Strike One," Honor said.
From the bridges, black with people, there went up a muffled roar;
Like the beating of the bulk-heads on a stern and distant shore.
"Kill her! Kill her Honor!" Shouted someone in the stand.
And it's likely they'd a-killed him had not Honor raised her hand.
With a smile of Tester's author'ty Honor's visage shown;
She stilled the rising tumult; She bade her ship go on.
When comprehension dawned on Chin she threw a mortal fit,
"Eighth Fleet! The Salamander! Hyper Out!" she said, "Oh shit!"
The Salamander didn't linger—turned to tactical and said
"Target that other fleet, fire sixty missiles instead.
By the time they reach them, Strike Two, Fifth will all be dead."
The sneer is gone from Honor's lips as she pounded Fifth to its fate
There's calm and cool on Manticore, no more fighting as of late.
And Tourville's confidence is shaken as Honor lets it go;
His hopes of winning another gone, from the force of Honor's blow.
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
Haven came to play with gall—mighty Honor struck them out.
