Silently gliding through the black void of the Archanis Sector, the Paramount cuts through the darkness, every movement executed with precision as it maintained a steady course along the Klingon border. On the bridge, the crew is focused, each officer attending to their station with practiced efficiency.

Nitus sits in the center chair, her eyes fixed on the PADD she held as she looked over the latest status report from the departments. On the viewscreen ahead a map of the surrounding space and the border between the Federation and Klingon space visible as a faint line on the navigational display, a reminder of the delicate balance they must maintain. Their task: recalibrating the thousands of sensor arrays along the border.

“Lieutenant are we nearly done with this section,” Nitus asks, her voice calm and steady.

Lieutenant Laura Jackson, the ship’s chief science officer, seated at the science station behind the command center. Her fingers glide over the console, adjusting parameters and running diagnostics with calculated precision. “Nearly their, Commander. We have two more in this section then we can leave the Archanis Sector. We will have approximately three more minutes on this one.”

“You said that three more minutes ago,” Enzo said interrupting from the helm station at the front of the bridge. A soft chuckle could be heard from across the room.

Just as Laura was about to respond, a sharp beeping sound came from the communications console. Ensign Tiala Lovar, the ship’s communications officer, looks up from her station, her expression serious.

“Captain, we’re receiving a distress signal,” Tiala announces, her Jamaican accent thickening with concern. “It’s faint, but I’m able to trace its origin. Audio only.”

“Put it through,” Nitus orders, her focus shifting from the PADD she held.

There’s a brief pause, filled with static the signal is weak but clear enough: “This is the Orion starship Viridian’s Grace. We are under… engines failing… life support… please help…”

Nitus’ eyes narrowed as she rose from her seat. The Orions are known for their mercantile ventures, often skirting the edges of legality. But a distress call is a distress call, and Starfleet’s mandate is clear.

“Zolath, can you identify the source of their distress?” Nitus asks, her tone sharp with urgency.

Arva’s hands move swiftly over the tactical controls. “Scanning now, Commander. The Orion vessel has sustained significant damage. Their engines are offline, and life support is failing. However, I am having trouble detecting any weapons fire.”

Nitus doesn’t respond immediately, her mind racing as she considers their options. “Tiala, open a channel to the Viridian’s Grace.”

“Aye, Commander.” Tiala’s fingers tap at her console. “No response.”

Nitus’ expression hardens. The last thing they needed right now is an engagement with the Klingons. “Mr. D’Antonio, set a course for the Orion vessel. Maximum warp,” she orders. “Zolath put us to yellow alert. Have security, engineering, and medical teams ready for when we arrive.”

“Aye, Commander,” the helmsman responds, his hands flying over the controls. “Yes, ma’am,” the Bajoran tactical officer responds.

“Take flight,” Nitus orders as the Paramount surges forward. The familiar hum of the warp drive resonating through the deck plating.

Dropping out of warp the deceleration caused the Paramount to hum softly. On the viewscreen, the stars settled into their familiar positions, and a massive, K’t’inga-class vessel loomed ahead. Its hull covered in scars sustained from its countless encounters. As they approached more recent damage became apparent. Massive amount of weapons fire evident across its hull plasma can be seen leaking from one of the nacelles.

“Zolath scan them. Tiala hail them,” Nitus ordered as she moved away from the MSD at the rear of the bridge. 

“Scans indicate the vessel is inoperable, no active power signatures detected,” Arva responds. “Massive amount of hull damage and their leaking plasma. It appears to be civilian-owned by a name I can’t pronounce.”

“I have them on comms, ma’am,” Tiala says as she made the connection.

Stepping behind the helm console Nitus spoke “This is Commander Nitus of the Federation starship Paramount,” she says, her voice clear and steady. “We’ve received your distress call, and are here to provide assistance.”

There’s brief pause before static filled the room and the faint sound of the Orion crew struggling to keep their ship operational. Finally, a voice responds, trembling. “Commander… thank you for coming so quick… We have a major… our core is failing… twenty minutes before it…” a female voice says before the channel cuts out.

“Tiala try to get them back,” Nitus says as she moved to press a button on her chair. “Nitus to engineering.”

“Davidson here,” the chief engineer responded.

“Zahir, you have twenty minutes before a ship’s core goes critical but I’m giving you fifteen. Can you do it?”

“Of course I can, Commander. Davidson out,” she says as the transmission ended.

Nitus smirked at Zahir’s brash statement as she moved to stand in the center of bridge as she looked at the rest of the crew. “As for the rest of you if Commander Davidson can’t get it done we need to be ready to take on their crew and leave in a moments notice. Understood?”

“Yes, Commander,” they all say in unison.

“Good, let’s get to work,” she says as she moves back to the MSD changing the screen to show their area of space.

“Captain Drake, it’s nice to finally talk to you,” Nitus said to her.

“I’d say welcome to the Archanis Sector, except that you’ve already been quite busy getting to know the place,” Captain Elsie Drake replied with a smile. The diligent deputy commander of sector operations had been tracking the California class utility cruiser’s movements ever since the Paramount arrived in her AO, just like she did every asset in the region. “We appreciate your assistance with recalibration of the border sensor arrays. It may not be glamorous work, but it is necessary now more than ever.” Especially, she thought to herself, since Toral had taken power across the border. The Empire wasn’t as it had been before. “I gather this isn’t a social call though. What can I do for you?” 

“We find ourselves in a bit of a pickle,” Nitus replied, her expression serious. “We received a distress signal from the Orion vessel Viridian’s Grace. When we arrived at the location, we found a civilian-owned K’t’inga-class vessel a mere AU from the border. Battle damage was evident across its hull, it was leaking plasma and its warp core was failing but we’ve managed to stabilize it. Some of the Viridian’s Grace crew was hurt due to the plasma leak, but we’ve managed to patch them up, and they are undergoing a final check before we let them go.”

“Do you have any idea of what they were doing out there?” Captain Drake asked. The proximity of a heavily damaged Orion ship so close to the complicated border made her wary.

“No, ma’am,” Nitus responded. “They have been highly sensitive about the contents of their cargo hold. So we can only assume that it must have been some kind of deal gone wrong.” The Half-Romulan realized that there may very well be an illegal trade of goods across the border. Which couldn’t be good for future encounters with the Empire and with the recent events in the Empire’s political system this could be bad for the Federation and its Romulan allies.

As the Commander spoke, Captain Drake used the PADD on her desk to search the Federation Mercantile Service’s database for data related to the Viridian’s Grace. There was nothing in the logs whatsoever that explained its present whereabouts. Whatever it was up to was off the books.

“I’m going to be frank with you, Commander,” Captain Drake replied. “Given what you’ve reported, and the recent issues we’ve had with smugglers looking to exploit the unstable situation, I’m not inclined to just let them go on their way without some answers. Hold them there. Come up with an innocuous excuse as to why, while you dig a little deeper. I’m also going to dispatch the USS Lincoln to assist. Captain Cayde is less than a day from your present position.” Nitus was by no means an inexperienced commander, her experience stretching back to the Dominion War, but these were Cassidy Cayde’s borderlands. He knew them better than anyone, having been here since long before the recent Archanis scale up, and she figured it’d be good to have his presence alongside the Paramount if there was more at play.

“Understood Captain,” Nitus said. She was pleased she would be getting reinforcements, and a Gagarin-class, at that, would be of great help if something turned up. “I’ll have Commander Blix come up with some medical reason to hold the crew and have Commander Davidson find something wrong with the ship.”

Captain Drake nodded, appreciating that her colleague understood the assignment. “Toe carefully Commander. The Klingon border is not as it once was.”

“Understood ma’am. We will keep you posted if anything comes up. Paramount out,” she said as she ended the conversation with her superior. Stood from the desk and walked over to the large panoramic window looking out to the space beyond. Tapping her combade she spoke, “Nitus to Davidson and Blix.”

They both responded at the same time. “Come to the ready room. The three of us need to talk,” she said as she walked over to the sofa against the wall and sat down. They both acknowledged her request and then ended the comms link.

“Captain Drake has ordered us to hold the Viridian’s Grace here. So I need you too,” Nitus said looking at Cada then Zahir. “To find some medical reason to hold the crew and some engineering reason to hold the ship. The sector has had issues with smugglers that have been exploiting the unstable situation in the region. The USS Lincoln has been dispatched with a seasoned borderlands commander to provide help while we hold them here so we can investigate what happened.”

Both Zahir and Cada nodded looking at each other as they both smirked. Cada stood up, saying, “One of the crew members has some kind of particle or something in their blood that doesn’t seem right. It might have something to do with the plasma. I may need to hold them for a few days.”

“The EPS distribution on the ship is messing up one wrong move and the whole system could go down. I need to get back over to oversee repairs,” Zahir said as she looked at Cada smirking before she turned to Nitus, her smirk dropping as she spoke. Nitus chuckled softly at the fact her subordinates understood the assignment. “Well I wouldn’t want to hold you from your very important work,” she said smirking as they both left the ready room greeting Tsoni and as the Half-Vulcan Officer stepped into the room after them.

“Yes, Number one. What is it?” Nitus asked as she sat down still smirking at the little exchange from before.

“Do we have new orders, Commander?” T’Soni asked as she stood behind one of the chairs opposite of the desk. Nitus gestured for her to sit down.

“Yes… and no. We have been ordered by Captain Drake to hold the Viridian’s Grace here. While we investigate what happened and what they are doing out here so close to the border,” Nitus said as she sat back in her chair.

“So basically the same thing you ordered us to do?” T’Soni questioned. She understood the tumultuous landscape of the border as of recent but she wondered if somehow what they are doing is illegal.

“Essentially, the USS Lincoln is less than a day from us and had already been dispatched to provide assistance,” Nitus said as she stood from her desk walking to the other-side. “T’Soni, something is off with this you must see that.”

“Commander, I do agree that something is definitely not right with what is going on here. But I’m concerned are actions may be illegal,” T’Soni said looking to Nitus. Her eyes carried a message that wasn’t spoken but could be heard. Nitus sighed as she looked to the floor. She understood what her first officer was meaning but she needed to know what was happening. The border is already a powerkeg its only a matter of time before it blows.

“I understand, Number one,” Nitus said her voice low shuddering ever so slightly as she spoke. “But you have your orders. I will how ever voice your concerns with Captain Drake the next time we talk.”

T’Soni stood from her chair nodding to Nitus as a sign of respect as she left the room. Just as she reached the doors she turned back to Nitus. “I don’t think he is involved,” she said before turning and leaving the room.

Nitus looked up to where T’Soni just existed. Her words lingering in the air. How could she tell Nitus asked her self. She hadn’t heard anything about her brother or Crimson Fleet since they encountered them all those months ago. Every mission she was sent on she hoped it would her to figure out what was he doing? Where are her other siblings? Where is her father? But hearing those words she had to forget about all of that. He was somewhere doing something and if they crossed paths again she had to remember. She is a Starfleet officer first.
 

Captain's Log Supplemental. We have been holding the Viridian’s Grace while we investigate what they are doing out of here and why they are all the way out here. Captain Drake has tasked the USS Lincoln with providing assistance and are less than twenty-four hours out from our present location. The Orions have been very secretive of their cargo hold. While we try to investigate what happened we are getting little to no where if we can't see what's in their hold.

Zahir stepped across the threshold walking into the engine room of the Grace. Behind her was the ship's Captain. “We are still trying go figure out what is happening with the ship's EPS system,” Zahir said as she approached one of the consoles and began to over look some random system to make it seem as though she was busy. “I can't in good conscience let you leave. Their is no telling if your ship may explode the second you enter warp.”

“I understand that, Ms. Davidson,” Vozuk said as he stood looking at Zahir working miscellaneous at the console. He was growing anxious his captain had only told him about the contents of the cargo hold just before she died. This was entirely new territory, and he knew that their bosses we getting anxious with how late they were. It was only a matter of time before they arrived here to collect their profession and tie up loose ends up. Voxul sighed as he looked to Zahir causing her to turn her head and look to him, “Just please hurry.” He said as he turned leaving the room before Zahir could respond.

Zahir stood their for a moment. Realizing what she saw in his eyes weren't a sense of conquest but actually a sense of fear. As if he was scared of something bigger coming. “Lieutenant, you have command over here. I will be returning to the ship,” she said as she started to walk slowly towards the exit making her way to the transporter room. The commander needs go here about this she thought to herself as the transport tech engaged the transporter.

USS Paramount (NCC-75570), Archanis Sector, Federation-Klingon Border, Beta Quadrant

“You think Grace is being run by someone else?” Zolath asked. After coming back to the ship Zahir asked Nitus to assemble the senior staff so they could discuss the recent revelation. It could be nothing but it was better to get the opinion of many instead of the opinion if one.

“I do, and whomever it is must be extremely powerful for hum to as sacred as he was. He darn near shaking,” Zahir said looking to Arva before turning to look at everyone else.

Nitus sat at the head of the table silent as her staff discussed the situation. She wad thinking of how they could get any where in this investigation how they could figure out what was going on without crossing any major lines but after thinking about it for a while she only came to one conclusion. “We need to get inside the cargo hold,” she said as she looked around the table at the others carefully considering her next words. “By any means necessary.”

“Mr. Zolath, give me some good news,” Nitus said as she approached the central console in the security suite’s main compartment. She had tasked the tactical officer with finding a way to enter the cargo hold without entering their Orion friends.

Zolath handed her a PADD as he brought up a display of Viridian’s Grace with a red outline highlighting the ship’s cargo hold. “I do, Commander,” he said, adjusting the parameters to show multiple small lines across the vessel leading from tip to stern and bottom to top.

“What are these lines?” Nitus asked, intrigued.

“They are the Klingon equivalent of jefferies tubes,” Arva said. The section of the ship blinked twice, then zeroed in on the section revealing the engine room: “There’s a hatch in the engine room somewhere to the side where two or three people can fit; they will then need to climb through said tubes until they find their way to the cargo hold.” The Bajoran officer gestured to the PADD he handed Nitus and said, “I recommend Lieutenant Nirk’oc Gov, Chief Samuel Writhers, and Ensign Tyrrell undertake this mission.”

“Mission being?” Nitus asked. Even though she knew well what the objective was, she needed him to remember it for what she would ask of him next.

“To use the Jeffries tubes to get inside the cargo hold without the Orions discovering us. Once inside, they must find anything that seems like it doesn’t belong to them. They are to log it until they can return to the Paramount to report their findings,” Arva said, answering her question. He slowly walked towards her as he looked at her, waiting for her to respond.

“Excellent work, Mr. Zolath. Just one thing,” Nitus said.

“What is it?” Arva asked. He had planned this mission to the letter, accounting for every possible situation. Making sure there were failsafes at every chance of error. He would coordinate everything from here while Nirk’oc led the mission on the ground. 

“I want you to lead the mission on the ground,” she said to him.

The soft hum of the ship’s transporter slowly descended from its climax as Arva, Nirk’oc, and Tyrrell appeared in the old Imperial transporter room.

“Let’s move. Keep close,” Arva said to the others as he moved off of the pad and into the hall, the junior officer following close behind. As they walked, the supplies they had been carrying rattled softly. Zahir had convinced them to bring supplies they needed, not only to blend in but also because they needed them. They all stepped into the lift, taking the short ride down the shaft until they reached the engine room.

As the trio stepped into the engine room, they were greeted by chaos, or rather, what they perceived as chaos. Shouting could be heard across the two-story room, and engineers could be seen racing back and forth as they viewed what the three of them knew was something common across all engine rooms.

An Andorain male clad in a gold Starfleet lieutenant uniform. Arva immediately recognized the deputy chief engineer. “Thanks for bringing this over. We needed this,” Kevil said as he stared over to the corner of the room. Turing his head, Arva spotted the grate that could be assumed led to the jefferies tubes. 

“No problem, lieutenant,” Arva said as she began to lead the others elsewhere to not make it suspicious with the Orion engineers walking around.

“Ensign,” Kevil called out. The trio turned to see Kevil looking at Tyrrell. “I need your help with something. The internal sensors are messing up. I might need your help to recalibrate the system.”

I looked to Tyrrell, asking for permission without ever having to open his mouth. Arva simply nodded as he and Nirk’oc walked off doing random things as they blended in, slowly making their way to the jefferies tubes. Arva looked around, trying to find the ensign that came with him. Finding him, he simply nodded as Tyrrell disabled the internal sensors. Arva pried open the grate with little effort, revealing the cramped space within.

“I’ll go first,” Arva says, climbing into the tube. Nirk’oc followed behind him. The tube is barely wide enough for them to maneuver, and the air is thick with the smell of overheated metal. They crawled for what felt like hours, but in reality, it had only been a few minutes. “According to the schematics,” Arva says, his voice slightly muffled by the close quarters, “the junction should be just ahead. It should allow us direct access to the cargo hold’.”

They reach the junction, where a small grate is identical to the one from the engine room. Arva forced the grate open, catching it before it fell.

Stepping into the cargo hold, the air inside was thick with the smell of spilled chemicals and something else—something metallic and sharp. Slowly rising from the floor, the pair walked into the hold. Arva led the way with his phaser drawn and Nirk’oc in tow, holding a tricorder. The dim emergency lighting casts eerie shadows across the scattered crates and damaged cargo containers.

“Stay sharp,” he murmurs. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

As they moved deeper into the hold, they were surrounded by a large spread of equipment. Arva slowly approached the first thing near him as he examined it and shined a flashlight on it. There was a Starfleet delta on it. 

“My gods,” Arva says quietly.

A sound could be heard from the cargo hold main doors. Arva and Nirk’oc’s faces were washed with panic as they realized someone was about to enter. They raced over to where they came from as they were about to retreat to the engine room. Arva signaled Nirk’oc to stop. He walked to hide behind a crate as he looked to see who was entering.

Faint voices could be heard slowly as two figures entered the room. Their voices grew louder as they entered. “They will discover what we have,” one of the voices said. 

“I know. Hopefully, they will be willing to listen. The true owner of this ship has been restless; he has threatened to kill us all if we can’t deliver in the next thirty minutes,” a familiar voice said. The voice shook slightly at the mention of them being killed. Arva’s curiosity got the better of him as he leaned around the vow to see who was speaking there. He spotted Vozuk standing next to someone unknown.

Quickly refocusing on the mission at hand, Arva turned his head to see the equipment on the floor. He was shocked by the sheer number of things he saw. Rows and rows of neatly stacked Federation technology—phasers, communicators, and data cores—all emblazoned with the Starfleet delta and stamped with Starfleet serial numbers.

Moving back to where Nirk’oc was waiting, he slowly approached him. “We need to leave. Now!” 

“They have what?!” Nitus shouted as she stood from her chair, nearly causing it to fall with the force she used.

Arva jumped at the sudden action, as did Nirk’oc. “Yes, ma’am, it was enough there to outfit at least two Paramounts and maybe a Kison,” Arva said to her, showcasing the urgency of the situation. He was becoming increasingly worried about the Orions before they even found the stolen technology in the cargo hold.

Nitus stared at Arva as he spoke, looking between him and Nirk’oc. She moved from around the desk and started pacing in the space behind them. She was shocked, to say the least. Vozuk is a criminal. They would need to provide substantial evidence before they could make an arrest. Unexpectedly, the familiar red glow and the alert kalaxon go off.

Sighing, Nitus walks out of the door, mumbling to herself, “What now?”

With Arva and Nirk’oc following behind, they made their way to their designated stations as they prepared for what was next. Nitus walked to the command center, facing Arva, as the Bajoran settled into his chair. “Report,” Nitus said aloud.

“There are three Vor’cha-class attack cruisers assembled on the other side of the border,” Enzo said from the helm console. Turning to look out of the viewscreen, she could subtly make out three ships in the distance.

“Magnify,” she says. The holographic display changed, showing the three Klingon attack cruisers in full view. The half-Romulan commander looked at the ships across the border, watching as they maneuvered themselves around each other. As they looked at the ship, you could spot the damage the hull had sustained from its previous engagements, probably some dating back to the Dominion War. But the question on everyone’s mind was: What were the ships doing way out here?

Emerging from the aft corridor on to the bridge of the former Imperial warship. Vozuk walked around the command chair looking to the PADD he was carrying, “Yes. What is…” he says as he stops in his tracks looking to the viewscreen at the three Klingon attack cruisers gathered on the opposite side of the border.

“How?” He said out loud more to himself than to anyone in particular.

“They just appeared out of no where not to long after you left to get some rest,” said the Human male at the tactical station.

Vozuk was confused and a little afraid that if these three attack cruisers were here then that would mean the boss was only minutes away.

USS Paramount (NCC-75570), Archanis Sector, Federation-Klingon Border, Beta Quadrant

Nitus paced in the center of the bridge as she waited for the Klingon commander to blink. But for the past ten minutes they had merely been starting them down. All hails unanswered and nothing to indicate what their purpose was all the way out here. At least not on the side of fact. She hypothesized that they had something to do with the stolen Federation tech in the Grace’s cargo hold, but with no proof it would be dismissable at best.

“Anything,” Nitus asked for what felt like the hundredth time in the past ten minutes since the emergence of the Klingon force. She was beginning to become irritated by the stillness of the ships. With no hail, no movement noting it’s as if the Klingons were sizing them up. Or maybe. They were waiting for someone with more authority.

Arva sighed as he looked over the sensors for what seemed like the millionth time. He understood Nitus frustration; he himself was becoming frustrated but he knew that constantly checking the sensors was going to do anything. He had expected them to at least answer their hails so they may understand their purpose of being all the way out here. “No ma’am,” Arva said as shifted in his seat. He slowly realized that having obsessing over the Klingon force that had formed on the other side of the border would get them no where. “Might I suggest we go to yellow alert but continue to investigate the stolen tech?” He said aloud as he looked to Enzo then to Nitus.

Nitus stopped pacing as she listened to the Bajoran tactical officer. She stood thinking to herself about his proposal. She sighed as she too realized obsessing over the quite Klingons would get them no where, “Proceed, Mr. Zolath. Just please be careful.”

Zolath excused himself from the bridge to go to security center. An hour would pass with the ship at yellow alert. The Klingon’s hadn’t so much as bunged in that time. It was all a bit odd. Nitus would retreat to the comfort of her quarters so would the majority of the senior officers. Most of them hadn’t slept for nearly twenty hours.

Sound asleep the rest of the crew went about their business. Executing orders and completing tasks as they have been doing for the last seven months since coming abroad the Paramount. The once loud bustling commotion in engineering had simmered down as the engineers started to flow into a steady rhythm. Although the commotion that was once their had merely transferred to the security center. Arva had called it a night not too long after Nitus leaving Nirk’oc to take over the investigation. Which wasn’t going that good anyways.

They hadn’t found much of anything about the technology that had been discovered aboard. It was as if nothing had been stolen and without the full serial number from at least one of the items they couldn’t even confirm it existed in the first place. On the bridge T’Soni sat in the center chair. She watched over the bridge meticulously as they went about their business. As the crew worked all around the bridge a beeping sound came from the tactical console.

“Report,” T’Soni said as she turned the chair to the tactical console.

Nirk’oc tapped at the console as he tried to figure out what had happened. His face turned serious as he realized what was happening. “Klingon battlecruiser on approach.”

“Commander Nitus to the bridge.”

Nitus once sound asleep, woken by the sudden loud voice in her quarters calling her name. The Half-Romulan startled awake as she shot up from the bed at the sound of T’Soni’s voice; she had half expected the Half-Vulcan to sleep be asleep herself. She reached over to the bedside table and tapped her combadge.

“Nitus to bridge. Report?”

Nitus looked over to the clock: 16:30 hours. She hadn’t meant to sleep for nearly two hours, but she knew if she didn’t at least get a little bit of sleep the Trill in sickbay would have made her so at least she beat him to it this time.

“A Klingon battle cruiser has arrived on the other side of the border,” T’Soni said. As Nitus heard her words she jumped up quckly shedding the soft robe and pulled on her duty uniform. Going so fast she was moving as a blur.

“On my way,” she said as the transmission cut off. Nitus jogged down the corridor as she finished zipping up her jacket stepping into the waiting turbolift.

“Bridge.”

She straightened her collar and tied up her hair into a ponytail as it would take too long to put it in a bun. Just as she finished the doors opened. Before they could open fully she was out onto the bridge. “Status report?”

“They arrived a minute before I contacted you,” T’Soni said, standing from the chair and walking towards Nitus.

“Have they tried contacting us?”

“No, ma’am. They have remained largely silent. I assume whoever is in command of the Negh’Var-class ship is checking in with the others,” Arva said, interjecting into the conversation.

“Any progress on the investigation?”

“No, ma’am,” Nirk’oc responded from one of the side consoles. “Its as if the equipment either doesn’t exist or wasn’t taken.”

Nitus looked puzzled at the Klingon officer. That couldn’t be true. It didn’t make sense.

“Commander, there’s incoming…” Arva said, alarmed. “It’s the Lincoln.”

Next to the Paramount a dazzling Gagarin-class ship emerged from warp. The light from the stars in the distance caused the new hull to shine brightly. Nitus had always been amazed at the look of the new ships the only thing she could not get over was the flooring.

“Hail them,” Nitus said looking to Tiala. She tapped at the console before nodding to Nitus that the connection was made.

“Captain Cayde, welcome to the party!”

“Good thing I brought my dancing shoes,” Captain Cayde chuckled as he sized up his part-Romulan colleague across the link. With a Negh’Var looming just beyond the invisible border between Klingon and Federation space, the precariousness of the situation was not lost on him. He was a veteran of the Archanis Sector, even before it took on new life following the crisis with the Hunters of D’Ghor, but Commander Nitus was unknown to him. How would she behave when things got tense? Because, with the Klingons posturing like this, they almost certainly would. “Sitrep?”

“We’ve discovered stolen Federation tech aboard that old K’Tinga ship. Upon investigation nothing has come up. We weren’t able to get a full look at the serial number but the amount we did get isn’t coming back to anything,” Nitus paused as she spoke making sure she hadn’t missed anything. “The Negh’Var hasn’t been here long. Only two to six minutes before you arrived did they.”

Stolen Federation tech? Unfortunately, thought Captain Cayde, such a tale had become all too common in the fractious and long-neglected borderlands. “What do we know of the crew aboard the Viridian’s Grace?” The repurposed K’Tinga, now flagged as an Orion civilian ship, was unknown to him. “Any explanation as to what they were doing before they became marooned here? Or who caused the battle damage to their ship?” He doubted it was a coincidence that a Klingon warship had just suddenly materialized on the other side of the border.

“No, sir.” Nitus responded. She thought back realizing she never told Arva to investigate how the ship got here. They merely rendered aid and investigated the stolen tech.

“If I may,” the Bajoran tactical officer interjected.

“Please do,” Captain Cayde offered as he eyed the young man at the tactical station on the other side of the link. “In the absence of hard facts, conjectures are better than nothing.” Having spent much of his time on the frontier, Cassidy Cayde was a man who’d learned to trust his instincts, and those he served with. Sure, they would, at times, lead you astray, but at least they gave you possibilities to explore.

“We’ve managed to identify that the markings were caused by a mix of disruptor and plasma weaponry. All marks are recent,” Arva said, explaining what he and his team had found between arriving and before the discovery of the stolen tech. “We’ve tried to get access to their sensor logs, but they refused and we had no legal basis to press the issue.”

The borderlands veteran knew better than to ask the source of the disruptor fire. Even if the signature came back as Klingon or Romulan, it’d be inconclusive given how much of their equipment had proliferated into the hands of others in recent years. Even the Viridian’s Grace herself was proof of that.  “So let me get this straight,” Captain Cayde offered instead. “Our Orion friends call for help, but when you show up, while they willingly accept it, they won’t say a thing about what they were doing, who did this to them, or why?”

“Exactly,” Nitus said. She thought back on the conversation she had with Arva before she had gone to her quarters. “Actually now that I think about it. Lieutenant Zolath overheard the ship’s captain and first mate talking about some ‘boss’ figure. Maybe they are the ones who are telling them to keep silent?”

“And what sort of facade are you using to keep them here?” Captain Cayde asked. He knew Captain Drake had ordered them to find a reason to hold the Viridian’s Grace here, but the gears were now turning in his head as to how they might engender further information from its crew.

A sly smile graced Nitus’ usually neutral features. “Didn’t you hear one of the crew members has some kind of particle or something in their blood that doesn’t seem right? Also I believe there’s something wrong with the EPS distribution on the ship. If one thing goes wrong the whole system could go down,” Nitus stated to him and in a fake serious tone trying to cover her smile. Behind her the bridge crew snickered as they knew the context to this “situation”.

“I hear such problems can be quite pesky,” Captain Cayde chuckled back. He wasn’t particularly inclined to set the Orion ship loose without some answers, and this was as good a setup as any. “You know, power distribution issues can do a number on the computer core, and I wouldn’t want them to punch in a new set of coordinates, just to blow themselves up because it miscalculated the intermix ratio. You ought to send someone down there to make sure all is a-okay. And while they’re at it, if they happen to stumble across anything else…” The rest didn’t need to be said.

“Of course, Captain. I’ll task my Chief Engineer on it right away,” Nitus responded, mirroring Cayde’s features.

“You might also invite some of their crew over for a meet-and-greet,” Captain Cayde added. “Our mission, while we’re out here, is in part to revitalize the locals’ perspectives of the Federation, and how better than by showing them a bit of hospitality after what they’ve been through? Good food and stiff drinks have a way of loosening the tongue.”

“Sounds like a good plan. Will you be joining us?” She inquired. Nitus knew her own crew was more than capable of handling the Orions but she wondered if she might have back up just in case.

“No, I’m afraid not,” Captain Cayde shook his head. “Best let those of you who’ve started to build rapport with the Orions to continue to do so.” Besides, he was aware that, if the wrong people were among that civilian crew, he might prove to be a liability. While the USS Lincoln was new to the Archanis Sector, he most certainly was not.

“That’s a shame,” Nitus uttered, disappointed by the elder commander’s decline. She knew that having another captain present might disrupt the peace and could make them less willing to do anything. It was possible they might see it as a threat and become tight lipped.

“While you and your crew are doing their thing,” Captain Cayde offered. “We’ll keep an eye on our new friends across the border. I’ve also got a call I need to make.” A Negh’Var and three Vor’chas weren’t the sort of thing a minor rabble rouser could raise. They might need someone else before all was said and done.

“Thank you, Captain. I will contact you when we have something. Paramount out,” Nitus stated as she turned and looked back at her crew. She wondered if the mission they had undertaken would turn into a major success or a failure. The only way to know would be to proceed… with caution.

Captain’s Log Supplemental. With the arrival of the Klingon force there has been tension across the ship. Many fear what the Klingons are doing out here and worry if they may be the first causality in another long war. But the arrival of the USS Lincoln has relieved some of that worry. Captain Cadye has launched the Lincoln‘s fighter complement and a show of force but the Klingons remain unmoved. On the somewhat bright side the arrival of a Gagarin-class has distracted the crew from their worries, especially our Chief Engineer. Nevertheless the less we move forward with providing assistance to the Viridian’s Grace. I’m sure the party that Lieutenant Reno has put together on short notice might give everyone a chance to relax and take a breath. As well as get answers.

“Commander. I’m inclined to agree with Lieutenant Zolath,” T’Soni said as she walked to the right of Nitus. “We shouldn’t have invited the Orions on-board. This dinner or…party rather is a waste of time and we are putting the ship at risk.”

Nitus walked as she listened to her chief of security and executive officer explain their disagreement with their current move. Something she is not surprised about and a position she doesn’t outright oppose. If the roles were switched she would be saying the same thing they are. But she also knew she had a secret mission of her own. Then her curiosity peaked when she realized that her chief counselor was being unsettling quite throughout this whole conversation. “Ms. Reno,” she said as she slowed her pace to a crawl. “You have been offly quiet. Do you disagree with Mr. Zolath and Ms. T’Soni?”

“No, ma’am. I do not,” Reno responded. Nitus as well as T’Soni and Zolath stopped walking immediately, turning to look at the young half-Betazoid. Intrigued on how she was okay with their current conversation regarding their guests. “That doesn’t mean I entirely agree.”

“Elaborate.”

“It’s as Lieutenant Zolath and Commander T’Soni stated this puts the crew at risk. Just this year we invited pirates unknowingly onto the ship and they detonated a bomb in one of the nacelles.” she said, looking at each of them as she spoke. As she did they realized where she was coming from. Reno is a half-Betazoid which means she can’t read minds but she can also sense others emotions. So the incident that she spoke about, although it happened a few months ago she was affected more than others because she was able to feel all of their pain at one time.

Nitus nodded to her acknowledging her perspective on their current objective. “Your grievances are noted,” she said, speaking softly first looking at Reno then the others before she turned and continued to walk down the corridor. “But we must move forward. We have our own assignments in finding out what the Orion’s are doing with our stolen tech. What are the Klingon’s doing out here? And what caused the Grace to be out here in the first place?” she said as they stepped into a turbolift. “Deck 10.”

“Well let’s get ourselves ready for a night full of fun,” Zolath said, attempting to lighten the mood.

“Remember we need to find out what the Grace was doing out here before she was disabled. So leave Mr Vozuk to me,” she said as the doors to turbolift opened.

Viridian’s Grace, Archanis Sector, Federation-Klingon Border, Beta Quadrant

“Commander Davidson,” a deep gravelly voice called out to her. Turning she was brought face to face with the appearance of the Paramount’s operations chief Lieutenant Commander Mason Hill.

Davidson hadn’t realized how handsome the man was. During staff meetings they sat at complete opposite ends of the table and after they were dismissed she usually headed straight to main engineering to continue her work. When she was off duty she usually sat in her quarters reading or she listened to music from 20th century Earth. But now she was able to see his face in full and there was nothing to disappoint. He looked like he had been chiseled out of stone. His hair was left scattered on top of his head. She couldn’t tell if it was styled or if he just woke up like that. Then his cybernetics, they weren’t really noticeable. They started behind his left ear and then moved around his head underneath his hairline and met with his neck and presumably went down his spine.

“Commander Hill,” Davidson said, turning her back to him as she continued her work. “I wasn’t expecting you for another ten minutes. What, you just wanted to see me?”

“No,” he said fatly. He strolled to the other side of the console. “Commander Nitus has begun the party or dinner…whatever it is they are doing and has instructed us to move forward with- repairing the computer care.”

Davidson looked puzzled as she looked up. As his eyes met, she froze. The man was captivating. She’d give him that. He has icy blue eyes that reminded her of the frozen tundra back on Earth. “What…” realization hit as she remembered the message she received from Nitus directly to her PADD. “Right. Grab that case over there,” she said as she pointed to the small case that sat against the wall.

Hill walked over to the wall and picked up the case. “Let’s go,” Davidson said as she walked towards the door with Hill falling in step behind her.

They exited the engine room and turned right as they headed to the nearest turbolift. Hill walked behind Davidson letting her lead the way. As she knew the ship better than him.

“Commander Davidson, can I ask you something?” Hill asked, his voice low but still had a deep and gravely undertone that sent a shiver down Davidson’s spine as he spoke.

“Sure.”

“Why don’t you ever interact with anyone?” he asked. “Besides for the engineering officers and a few of the other staff.” Hill had wondered why she had remained distant from everyone else. He thought maybe she was anti-social and didn’t really like being around people but there was no other way to tell this for sure unless he asked.

Davidson was stunned she hadn’t expected such a question right out of the gate. Especially since this was their first real interaction. She had expected him to be a little less intrusive with his questions especially at the start. But he had started off with a heavy hitter. The silence stretched on as they entered the turbolift. “Deck 8,” Davidson said at last. “I don’t like speaking to people when I don’t have a reason.”

Hill looked puzzled. “Could you elaborate?”

Davidson sighed lightly as she looked at the doors with Hill standing behind her. “I don’t like feeling like a burden and I don’t know when is the right time to provide advice or when is the right to joke,” she took a breath as she let Hill digest what she had just said. “It’s just I don’t like jumping into conversations that I wasn’t invited into.”

Hill looked at Davidson as she spoke. He himself related to her words and knew from experience what she was speaking of as he had gone through a similar faze. “I understand what you mean, Zahir.”

Davidson turned to look at him in the eyes as he called her by her name. The way he spoke was soft, not on the way of being judgmental or anything but of being able to relate and understand where she was coming from and sharing that knowledge together. “You do?”

“Yes,” Hill responded, his eyes drifting off as his thoughts wandered to a past he was trying to forget. The pain and the sorrow and the hurt of the events that made him… him. He looked back at Davidson and saw the concern in her eyes, the mutual understanding of a past that caused pain and gave scars.

Before either could say a word the doors to the turbolift opened and their shield to the world was up once again. They walked on to the deck and continued their journey to the computer core but this time they were in a peaceful silence. Them both lost in their own thoughts as they journeyed to the core.

As they arrived two guards with weapons in hand were stationed outside. As they approached one of them opened the door to allow them in. The room was dark except for the occasional flash from the drives.

“What do you need me to do?” Hill asked as he stood next to Davidson in the center of the room.

“I need you to check columns 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9. Those should be related sensors and tactical systems. I will take 10, 11, 13, 14, 15, and 16. Those are the systems related to the warp core, damage control system, and other engineering systems.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The pair split up, Hill went to his six columns and Davidson had hers. But Davidson gave him the ones that would help in their investigation as it would contain weapons logs, transporter logs and other logs that they are in need of. She would be doing something she actually did need to do in order to ensure the ship’s warp core doesn’t detonate and kill them all.

USS Paramount (NCC-75570), Archanis Sector, Federation-Klingon Border, Beta Quadrant

Laughter can be heard across the room as an assortment of the crew play low jazz music in the background. The Halo was filled with members of the Paramount’s and the Grace’s crew. Nitus stood in a group with T’Soni, Alessa and a Human male a member of the Grace’s crew.

“That is an interesting point of view, Commander,” the man said to her as he lifted the glass to his lips drawing a long sip from the liquid contained within.

Nitus raised an eyebrow at his response. “How so?” she genuinely asked as she wondered the meaning behind his words. They were discussing the prospect of a Klingon invasion of the Romulan Republic. Not a lit topic in the slightest.

“Well if the Klingons were to invade the Republic. Don’t you think they would have done it by now?” he asked in a suggestive tone. “I’m just saying the Klingon’s know the Federation will defend the Republic if they invade and they know that they are no match for Federation technology. So why would they risk so much for so little gain.”

“Because they are Klingon.” Nitus said flatly she knew what he spoke of was the truth but it was her people whose lives were being threatened. “The most important thing in Klingon culture is honor. To them the quickest way to get honor and victory is through war. Despite all of the odds they are willing to risk everything and invade anyone who they think is an easy target.” Nitus took a long draw of her glass. “It’s in their nature.”

In the opposite corner of the room. Vozuk sat in a booth alone drinking a mix that he didn’t even know.

Spotting him in the corner of the room Nitus excused herself from the group and made her way over to the booth where Vozuk sat in. “Can I sit here,” she asked him as she gestured to the seat across from him.

“Of course Commander,” Vozuk responded as he swayed slightly in his seat. “This is your ship after all.” he finished as he slurred his words looking at her, his eyes held lazily open. He was drunk. Or the better terminology would be he is wasted. Nitus noticed this and saw it as an opportunity to get some much needed answers to some pressing questions. Nitus sat down across from him as she observed him.

“Why did you come out here?” she asked him. It would be better to not waste time and jump straight into the questioning. Vozuk turned from the point in the distance that he was staring at and turned his eyes back to Nitus. He looked puzzled as if he didn’t even know where he was at the moment.

“What?” he asked her as slouched in his seat more.

“Were you here to make a trade with someone?” Nitus asked, she knew if she asked the question the same way with the same wording he would catch on so she had to make sure to change it up so she wouldn’t peak his attention.

“Yes,” he said as he looked at the dark colored liquid in his cup. He picked up the cup and nearly drank the cup empty in one gulp. Nitus brain started ticking as he realized that tiny detail. ‘One question answered,’ she thought to herself as she moved closer to him.

“Who were you here to meet?” she asked him. There are three possible answers: the Klingons, the Syndicate or the one she was hoping wouldn’t be Crimson. The thought of her brother doing something so disastrous was something she could not imagine but yet here she was.

Vozuk looked up to her his eyes barely open as he looked to Nitus. His eyes wandered, jumping from point to point. He looked back at Nitus and landed closer to her, “Someone…” he said mumbling as he slurred his words looking at her then at people elsewhere. “You are well acquainted with.”

As he spoke Nitus tensed. Who did she know that could do this or would do this? There’s only one name that came to her mind but she didn’t want to admit to herself just yet. “Who?!” she asked this time a little forcefully. She needed to know the information he was withholding from her and she needed to know it now.

Just as Vozuk opened his mouth to speak, the emergency klaxon blared and the lights in the room dimmed as the red emergency lights started to flash. Nitus sighed in defeat as she realized their chance to get the information they desperately needed was gone. She sat back as she tried to figure out who it could and yet the same person came back to mind before she pushed it away from thought. Coming back to the present she turned her attention to the matter at hand. “All hands to battle stations. Commander Nitus to the bridge,” a voice rang through the intercom.

Nitus looked to Reno then to Vozuk. Reno nodded in response acknowledging her unspoken orders.

Nitus along with T’Soni, Zolath and Jackson exited The Halo and made their way to the nearest turbolift. As they arrived on the bridge the klaxon had stopped and the red lights had settled into a steady rhythm. Zolath and Jackson went to their respective stations and relieved the officers who had been covering.

Nitus walked towards the center of the bridge where D’Antonio sat in the center chair. “What happened?” she asked urgently.

“The Klingon attack force is moving closer to the border, Commander. They are roughly an AU and a half away from the border,” Enzo said as he returned to his station. Relieving the officer that had been sitting there. Nitus looked out of the viewscreen at the Grace and then to the approaching Klingon battle group. She knew that whatever her next move she needed to be careful or one wrong move and her and her ship would be the first causality or that approaching Klingon battle force could be the first causality. Either way it would spell disaster.

“Move to intercept,” Nitus said as she walked over to stand behind D’Antonio then looming over to Lovar,  “and have the Lincoln follow suit.”

Nitus stood behind D’Antonio before slowly making her way to her chair and sitting down. She looked out of the viewscreen as she saw the ship begin to move into position flanked by the Lincoln. ‘Well it was only a matter of time,’ Nitus thought to herself.

“A K’Tinga covered in disruptor burns, a crew of tight-lipped Orions, and a Negh’Var scowling at us from across the border,” chuckled Captain Cassidy Cayde, his expression rather relaxed given the circumstances. “Pretty typical, wouldn’t you say?”

Captain Elise Drake, the always-focused chief of operations for Polaris Squadron, shook her head with disapproval over the link. “You seem a bit too comfortable here, Cassidy. This could quickly snowball into a major incident.”

“Every time we respond to something out here, it has the potential to snowball into a major incident,” Captain Cayde smiled, although a hint of frustration was laced into his tone. “It’s just the reality of the sector at present, and it’s a product completely of our own actions… or rather, our own inaction.” If Starfleet hadn’t turned a blind eye to the borderlands throughout the nineties, others would not have so easily taken root.

“Alright, I’ll give you that,” Captain Drake sighed. He wasn’t wrong, she knew. Even at present, she was tracking no less than a half dozen concerns across the sector, ranging from piracy to local dissidents to failing infrastructure. “But what are you doing about this particular situation?”

“Honestly, besides scowling back at the Klingons from our side of the border, not much,” Captain Cayde replied. “Commander Nitus already has the investigation well at hand.” Neither his answer nor his expression betrayed his disappointment at the dearth of intelligence the Paramount had collected thus far. He wasn’t one to throw a fellow commander under the bus, nor to worry headquarters needlessly.

“She’s young, Cassidy…” Captain Drake warned.

“Some might say the same about you, Elsie,” Captain Cayde countered with a wink. “We should not be so quick to judge.” He hadn’t doubted Elsie Drake’s competence when she first arrived at Archanis Station, nor would he cast doubt so quickly on the Paramount‘s commanding officer. 

“But the Paramount is new to this sector,” Captain Drake pressed.

“As were all of you when suddenly Starfleet remembered this place existed,” Captain Cayde reminded her. Before the crisis with the Hunters of D’Ghor, it had been little more than him and his ragtag troupe traipsing around the sector, a messy borderlands region that the Federation had mostly taken for granted and left neglected. “But I’d say you all have adjusted just fine, and so too will Commander Nitus and her crew.”

Captain Drake just stared at him. Why was he being so insistent? Cassidy Cayde wasn’t naive. He had to see the risks of their present situation, an impending interstellar incident if someone made a mistake. The situation with the Orion-crewed, civilian-aligned K’Tinga was also quite odd, and the whole thing made her nervous.

“Relax, Cap,” Captain Cayde assured her. “Have faith in your fellow captains, and know that, out here, I’ve got her back.”

That, at least, reassured her a bit. Cassidy Cayde knew the place better than almost anyone.

“If you’re so worried about us though, there is one thing you could do to help,” Captain Cayde added. “Those Klingons menacing at us, they’re not nobodies in a B’rel. Whoever is on that flagship, if things heat up, the Kennedy might be helpful.” A Norway class light cruiser wouldn’t help their tactical situation, but real problems were rarely solved by phasers and torpedoes.

“I’ve already dispatched them,” Captain Drake admitted, a twinkle in her eye.

“Of course you did,” Captain Cayde laughed. Always the planner, his colleague was. “That’s what I appreciate about you.” And he meant it too. Elsie Drake was quick, diligent, and did a job he wouldn’t wish upon anyone, coordinating and positioning assets so that the rest of them could do what needed to be done. “We’ll be in touch. Lincoln out.”

“You’re really not going to tell her, are you?” came a voice from behind him as the link cut off.

The aged captain turned slowly and smiled at his first officer, who’d let himself onto the observation deck where Captain Cayde had chosen to take the call. “Luke, didn’t they ever tell you not to sneak up on a man who’ll beat you to the draw?” It was all in jest, of course, and Commander Luke Rawlins, a frontiersman much like himself, was always welcome at his table.

“I dunno about that, old man,” Commander Rawlins laughed, willing to go tit for tat with his mentor. “But seriously, that Romulan and her Cali crew, they haven’t figured out shit, and even now, I understand there’s still some dissension among them on your orders to host a meet-and-greet for the Orions.”

“It’ll all be fine, Luke,” Captain Cayde assured him. “We’ll just have to make sure…” 

But the captain didn’t get a chance to finish his statement as suddenly the ship’s momentum shifted and the lights dimmed to indicate a change in readiness status.

“Yellow alert. All hands to battlestations.”

“You were saying?” Commander Rawlins grinned.

Captain Cayde didn’t reply. His Chief Tactical Officer’s words over the ship-wide comms told him what he needed to know. It was time to get to work. 

With Commander Rawlins at his side, the pair swiftly crossed the short distance from the observation deck, which lay astern on deck 1, to the bridge at the fore. There, they were confronted with a rushed scene as the bridge crew readied for what would follow.

“Helm, adjust heading, three three zero down six,” Lieutenant Commander Rao was ordering as he stepped off the command island, where he’d been serving as watch officer. “Bring us aport and bottomside the Paramount, and hold the flank.” In his mind, he was already envisioning the battlespace, positioning their Gagarin class heady escort to cover an angle underserved by the California class utility cruiser’s phaser arrays and torpedo launchers.

“Three three zero down six, and holding flanking position, aye,” confirmed Lieutenant Saadi from the conn. Her eyes were filled with focus, and she was ready for whatever would follow. This wouldn’t be their first rodeo.

“Report?” Captain Cayde requested as he stepped into the center of the bridge.

“Seven zero seconds ago, Klingon forces began a forward movement towards the border,” Lieutenant Commander Rao reported as his fingers danced across the tactical controls, warming the formidable offensive and defensive capabilities of the Lincoln on the off chance they might need them. “Two five seconds ago, Paramount began a forward movement of her own, signaling for us to follow.”

Captain Cayde still wasn’t following. “Did Paramount provide any explanation for the change in posture?” Such a move, even as a counterbalance to the Klingon’s movements, advanced them onto a knife’s edge. One twitchy trigger finger, and it’d quickly blow up in their face. Had the Paramount determined something new, or was this just a nervous overreaction?

“No explanation, sir,” Lieutenant Commander Rao replied. He’d simply brought them to alert status and moved the Lincoln forward out of an unwillingness to let the Paramount go it alone.

“Are the Klingons still on their side of the border?” Captain Cayde asked.

“Affirm,” Lieutenant Commander Rao confirmed. “At a distance of 1.5 AU.”

“Then what in the fuck are we doing?” Captain Cayde signed as he stared at the underside of the Paramount with its elongated pylons, bulbous nacelles and awkwardly deflector. “Are we trying to provoke them?” The Klingons could rattle sabers all they wanted, but when one responded in kind, it almost never ended well. “Get me Commander Nitus. Now.”

“Captain Cayde, the Klingons are moving towards the border. I’m confused as to why we are even having this conversation,” Nitus stated to him as she sat in her Ready Room. Although she trusted her crew and was confident that they knew where to draw the line she was hesitant to speak to Cayde in front of them. She wanted to speak with the Captain in private.

“Moving towards the border, yes,” Captain Cayde reminded his colleague. “But they have not violated our territory.” As he stared at his colleague through the main viewer, it was not lost on him that Commander Nitus had sequestered herself in her Ready Room, but he wasn’t about to step off his bridge as they raced towards the Klingons at alert status. Nor did he see any reason to. He ran an open ship, and he didn’t fear any of his staff hearing him say what he knew they’d be thinking.

“Captain the Klingons were moving closer to the border and their fire range is far greater than my own what if…”

“If they wanted to blow you out of the sky,” Captain Cayde interjected, cutting her off mid-sentence. “They would have already done so in a reenactment of the Kobayashi Maru.” It was a reference to the famous no-win scenario that every captain went through, a simulation where their fictional Starfleet vessel responded to the distress call of a civilian freighter, only to find itself impossibly outgunned as enemy ships decloak all around it. If the Klingons had actually wanted to move against the Paramount, they could have employed exactly those tactics long before the Lincoln even arrived.

Aboard the Paramount, a chime came from the door, but Nutus ignored it, intent on finishing her conversation with the Lincoln’s commanding officer. “Captain, the very thought of the Klingons moving closer to the border with relations this tense is paramount to war.”

“War?” Captain Cayde shook his head. “No, Commander. War isn’t a few ships creeping closer to a line drawn on some map. War is what we faced against the Lost Fleet, or with its forebearers thirty years prior. This is saber rattling at best, unless we help them make it more.” And even if someone’s finger slipped on the trigger, it was unlikely, he knew, to go down as anything more than a border skirmish that the diplomats would apologize for before everyone went back to doing what they were doing before. Such things had happened before, and such things would happen again – but ideally, not today.

Another chime came at Nitus’ door, this time was immediately followed by two more. “Excuse me, Captain. Enter,” Nitus said as her agitation got the better of her. She was annoyed, not only at Captain Cadye for not seeing her point of view, but also at this person who had the audacity to intrude on her conversation.

The door to the ready room opened and T’Soni walked in.

“Number One, I explicitly said for no one to interrupt me and Captain Cayde’s conversation. To let us speak privately,” Nitus said as she eyed her first officer.

“Commander,” T’Soni started. “Commanders Davidson and Hill have returned from the Viridian’s Grace. They’ve found something.”

Eyeing the half-Vulcan she stood from her seat. “Wait one second, Captain,” she said as she walked around her desk and crossed the threshold onto the bridge, making her way to the center as Hill and Davidson stood near the tactical console.

Nitus looked over to the communications console. “Ms. Lovar, transfer Captain Cayde here.”

The viewscreen switched to show the bridge of the Lincoln with Cayde still standing in the center.

“Go ahead, you two,” Nitus instructed.

Hill stepped forward with Davidson, turning her attention to the console behind her. “After searching the Grace’s computer, we have found verified intelligence that House K’varrak of the Klingon Empire was involved in the acquisition of stolen Federation technology, along with two other groups,” Hill said as he handed Nitus a PADD. On it was all the known information relating to House K’varrak.

“It says here that House K’varrak is a vassal of one of the border houses. How are they able to even afford a purchase like that?” Nitus asked. The only way a vassal would be able to get the money to afford a purchase like that would be from House K’tok, its ruling house, or from the Chancellor.

“That’s currently unknown,” Hill responded.

Captain Cayde, listening on from the Lincoln‘s bridge, stole a glance at Lieutenant Commander Hardcastle as if hoping his security chief might have some insight. He just shrugged though. Even for all the experience he had working the Klingon borderlands before enlisting in Starfleet, Russ Hardcastle had experienced as many run-ins with this insignificant vassal house as his boss – namely zero – so the pair just returned their attention back to the screen to continue listening.

“The first of the other parties is one we have dealt with in the past. A pirate group known as the Crimson Fleet. Founded by a group of Romulans following the destruction of their homeworld. Originally it was believed to have been led by Commander Nitus’ half-brother former Romulan Imperial Navy Admiral Eldus,” Hill said as he handed Nitus a new PADD, this one containing updated information on Crimson.

“How does Eldus fit into the command structure?” Nitus asked them interested to see how her brother was involved.

“Now we have collected information that Eldus is only one of seven members of the ruling council. The other members of which are unknown,” Hill said as he turned towards Davdison.

Davidson turned around and handed Nitus yet another PADD, this one containing information on the second group involved. “The second group is one we didn’t recognize, but after a little digging, I found this. They go by the name Iron Syndicate,” Davidson reported as she looked to Captain Cayde to see if he recognized the name before turning her eyes back to Nitus. As she said the name of the second group Lieutenant Zolath straightened. To many including Nitus, the security chief’s service record as always seemed a little off. Zolath looked to Nitus then to Davidson as he focused on her ignoring what he was doing prior.

“From the information I could gather that wasn’t classified, the group is a crime syndicate operating across the border regions from the Deneb Sector to the Romulan border and has made friends and enemies throughout the region. As far as we can tell, they have been active since the Dominion War and, while not as influential as the Orion Syndicate, they are still a key player in the black market.”

“How did all three of these groups get talking?” Nitus asked. She wasn’t surprised that Crimson was involved, nor was she surprised that Eldus wasn’t the one in charge. However she was most intrigued by this Iron Syndicate and how come she had never heard of this group before.

“From what I gathered from the logs, Crimson contacted the Syndicate about acquiring Federation technology. Once the Syndicate acquired the tech by an unknown means, they sold it to Crimson. Crimson then reached out to the Klingons, but this is the part where it gets a little fuzzy. We don’t know what Crimson got in exchange for the tech. All we know is that House K’varrak dispatched the Viridian’s Grace to pick up the tech, but before the Grace could leave, an Orion ship attacked them. Then fled before we arrived,” Davidson finished as she looked at Hill to make sure she had said everything. With his confirmation she turned to Cayde and Nitus.

Captain Cayde had now heard enough. “So what you’re saying is that somewhere aboard that marooned freighter, there’s likely a bunch of stolen Starfleet technology,” he said, playing it back. Along these borderlands, smuggling had been a persistent thorn in their side, and the Lincoln‘s crew had seen firsthand the consequences of what could happen when such technology got into the wrong hands. “Who owns the Viridian’s Grace?”

“According to its backbox, it is owned by a Stellar Industries, which is flagged by Starfleet Intelligence for possibly being a shell company for the Klingons. That is allowed to operate in Federation space,” Hill said as he walked over to his console next to Lieutenant D’Antonio at the conn.

“Of course it is,” sighed Captain Cayde. Until now, he’d hoped that the Klingons on the other side of the border were just onlookers trying to poke the bear, but that connection, if accurate, meant that Negh’var over on the other side was likely a party to this, somehow. “Do we have any intelligence on the crew of the Grace?”

“The Grace is owned by Stellar, but its crew are free. The only member of the crew that had a contract of service with Stellar was the former captain of the ship who is now dead,” Hill answered. “Captain Cayde, I am sending you all of our findings.”

“Thank you,” Captain Cayde nodded, but before he turned his attention to the report they’d sent over, there was something else top of mind. He stepped off the command island and came up behind Lieutenant Saadi at the conn. As he glanced over her shoulder, he noted the distance they’d covered in the intervening period. Much more, and they might soon be the ones violating the border. “I recommend that, until we have time to review all of this more thoroughly, we belay any additional forward advance and take up a defensive pattern.”

“Agreed,” Nitus said as she looked to her helmsman. “Might I recommend launching two of the fighters from the Lincoln’s fighter complement?”

“Two?” Captain Cayde chuckled. “Why suddenly so reserved after we’ve already laid down the gauntlet?” A handful of fighters wasn’t going to make it any worse than they already had with their advance. He tapped his combadge. “Cayde to Blaine. Launch all fighters. Take up defensive formation around the Lincoln, the Paramount and the Viridian’s Grace.”

“All fighters, defensive positions, aye,” came the near-instant response from Lieutenant J.G. Malcolm Blaine. He and his wing were already standing by in their cockpits just waiting for the call. And then, just a few seconds later, his starfighter tore out of the Lincoln’s front-facing shuttlebay, followed by eleven just like it. The nimble little Valkyries buzzed like bees, swarming around the two Federation ships and the marooned freighter.

“Now that we’ve thoroughly rattled our saber, might I suggest we try to call the captain of the Negh’Var again?” Captain Cayde asked as he turned back to the screen. “Would you like to do the honors, Commander?” It was her mission, after all, but more than that, her crew was also currently more read up on the parties involved.

“Thank you, Captain,” Nitus said to him as she walked to her chair and took a seat as she looked over to the comms officer. “Ms. Lovar, open a channel on all frequencies,” she said as she turned her attention to the viewscreen. “This is Commander Nitus of the Federation starship Paramount. Please respond and identify yourself.”

“Ms. Lovar, open a channel on all frequencies,” Nitus ordered as she turned her attention towards the viewscreen. “This is Commander Nitus of the Federation starship Paramount. Please respond and identify yourself.”

Silence filled the bridge as the channel sat idle.

“This is Commander Nitus,” she tried again. “Please respond.”

Then the viewscreen changed from the view of the Lincoln’s bridge to the familiar forehead ridges of the Klingon race. As Nitus looked at him she noted how young he looked compared to other members of his species she had meet prior.

“I’m Torvak of House K’varrak. You commander,” he said, venom lacing his words. “You are in possession of the rightful property of the Klingon Empire. Return the ship and its crew to me, and we won’t blow you out of the sky and retrieve it ourselves.”

“Is that right?” Nitus asked, her lips betraying her as they turned into a sly smile. “Captain Torvak, the Viridian’s Grace is within Federation territory and, according to its black box, it is the property of Stellar Industries. As such it will be returned to them,” Nitus said as she looked at the Klingon, her face stoic as she looked into the eyes of the Klingon.

Listening intently from aboard the Lincoln, Captain Cassidy Cayde glanced momentarily over at Lieutenant Russ Hardcastle, his trusty security officer and confidant on all things Archanis. Both recognized the escalatory words of their Klingon opposite, and it felt a bit out of character, even for them. “Russ, get me something… anything on our Klingon friend.” His gaze then shifted to Lieutenant Commander Ora Jesi at the operations station. “And Jesi, give the Kennedy a heads up that if Michael would like to prevent a shootout, now would be the time.”

At tactical, Lieutenant Commander Arjun Rao then offered a suggestion: “Sir, to emphasize the convictions of Nitus’ words, might I suggest now is the time to go to red alert?” The Klingons would detect the energization of the weapon systems, a clear signal they’d be holding the line here.

“Make it so,” Captain Cayde nodded, turning back towards the exchange between Nitus and the Klingon as a red hue overtook the bridge, signaling the ship was now ready to fight. As he stared at the Klingon’s grizzled forehead, he wondered what was going through the man’s mind. Would he really be stupid enough to violate the sovereign territory of the United Federation of Planets and engage in a direct shootout? Unfortunately, if he was, they’d have to pull a miracle out of their ass. In a fair fight, their Negh’Var would make quick work of a California and a Gagarin.

“If you do. I will consider it an act of war and respond in kind,” the Klingon was continuing to say across the link as he flashed a toothy grin.

Nitus stared at the Klingon, debating her next move. She had hoped they would back down when they moved towards the border, but Torvak was young and brash. Maybe brash enough to consider violating Federation territory, ending generations of peace. “Captain Torvak, I would suggest you rethink your approach. Crossing the border would be an act of war. I caution you to choose your next move carefully,” Nitus warned as she slowly rose from her seat to stare at the Klingon, her gaze enough almost to cause a warp core to go critical.

Torvak looked at Nitus, his face maintaining a neutral expression but his eyes showed a completely different story as the two faced each other down.

It was time, Captain Cayde knew, to step into the conversation. “Now, now, Captain Torvak, let’s not be hasty,” he began. “That ship, sitting within our space, is a civilian flagged vessel that requested our assistance. In accordance with standard maritime practices, it is our duty to render aid, which we absolutely intend to do. What your business is with them, frankly, I don’t care, but it will be up to the crew of the Viridian’s Grace to decide what they do after they’re spaceworthy again.” It was a bluff, of course, for he had no intention of allowing the Viridian’s Grace to deliver illicit goods to the Klingons, but that would be a problem for after everyone powered down their weapons.

“And who are you?” Torvak said as his eyes narrowed looking at the captain.

“Name’s Cayde,” Captain Cayde replied in a rather relaxed tone. “Cassidy Cayde. New digs – with bigger guns, mind you – but if you’ve been ‘round these parts long enough, you might know the name.”

Torvak looked at Cayde, his eyes narrowing as he looked at him. “I thought you’d be taller and younger,” he said as he looked Cayde up and down.

“And I thought you’d be…” Captain Cayde replied sarcastically. “Oh wait, why would I think anything of you? I don’t know you. Before you do something stupid, you might want to check in with someone I do know… you know, someone worth knowing.”

Shirking off the indignation from Cayde, Torvak turned back to address Nitus. “You have two minutes to hand over the and give it and everything on it to me or I will blow the both of you out of the sky.”

“That’s never going to happen. The Viridian’s Grace is within Federation territory, and if you cross the border, that will be an act of war and would be responded to in kind,” Nitus declared. She was beginning to lose her patience with him because he was repeating himself over and over. She knew he couldn’t be stupid enough to cross into Federation space. But who knew what he was willing to do.

“I’m not sure you would win that war. The Federation is weak. You let Changelings into your precious Starfleet and did nothing to stop them,” Torvak said to them. He ignored Cayde and kept his focus solely on Nitus. He knew full well what would happen if he crossed the border, and he didn’t care.  He wanted what he was promised, and that was located in the Viridian’s Grace cargo hold.

“Commander, the Klingon battle group has resumed its course. I’m detecting weapons charge, they’re preparing to fire,” Zolath yelled as he looked at Nitus panicked. Was this going to be the end for them?

But before the Klingons could close the distance, a ship blinked tore out of warp, right into a precarious position between the Klingon battle group and the Starfleet cruisers. The ship Norway class light cruiser, USS Kennedy, wasn’t formidable by any stretch of the imagination, but she was hell bent on stopping this before it got out of hand.

“This is Ambassador Michael Drake of the United Federation of Planets,” came the voice of a no-nonsense former admiral in a commanding tone that demanded attention and respect. “You are hereby ordered – all of you, Starfleet and Klingon alike – to stand the fuck down before you do something we’ll all regret.”

“I don’t take orders from you, Ambassador,” Torvak spat as he looked at Drake. He knew the man well from the stories he had been told by the other members of his house.

“Captain Torvak, I trust that you know who I am, and that I have been fair to House K’varrak in all our past dealings,” Ambassador Drake reminded the Klingon captain on the other side of the link. “This is not the time, nor the place, to undo all that goodwill. I say again: stand down until I can assess the situation in full.”

Nitus stood watching the event unfold in front of her. The half-Romulan was aware of the reputation Drake had. He had served in the Dominion War like her, but where she lost friends, he’d lost entire crews. She also knew he was a former admiral, and that he probably still had friends in Starfleet Command. “We’re standing down, sir,” Nitus said as she looked at Zolath signaling to him that he needed to stand down.

“I too will stand down out of respect for you, Drake,” Torvak said as he looked at the Ambassador. The screen then shut off as he ended the transmission. Out of the viewscreen the slowing advance of the Klingon battle force could be seen.

“Well, you heard the man,” Captain Cayde chuckled to his bridge crew as the link cut off. “Recall fighters, come about from the border, and stand down – for now.” As the Lincoln rotated away and the Negh’Var left their view, he could not help but wonder if the ambassador’s gambit would play out. If not, they’d be back here soon enough for round two.

The USS Kennedy was a small, unassuming ship, and that was very much by design. She wasn’t meant to project strength, but rather to serve as a means to avoid the need for a projection of such strength. But today, she was caught in the middle, and for the first time in a while, the ambassador found himself wishing he had a few more phaser banks and torpedo tubes at his disposal.

“Alright, break it down for me, commander,” Ambassador Drake asked as he sat there in the briefing room, Captain Ria Alleyne by his side while Commander Nitus and Captain Cayde sat across the table from them. “What is it that you believe the Vidirian’s Grace is carrying within its hold?”

“I believe it’s carrying stolen Federation technology,” Nitus said plainly. Pausing before continuing, “Given what has occurred earlier this year with Vadic and the Shrike, my hypothesis is that it may have been stolen from Daystrom Station, sir,” Nitus said as she looked to the ambassador and the captain of the Kennedy. Nitus knew it might have been a long shot to assume the tech came from Daystrom but it wasn’t impossible.

“That’s a scary hypothesis, but not something to go to war over without irrefutable proof,” Ambassador Drake noted.

“My chief of operations and chief engineer searched the Grace’s computer core, sir. They found evidence that a group by the name of the Iron Syndicate had acquired the tech and given it to the Crimson Fleet, who then gave it to the Klingons in exchange for something. We currently don’t know what that something is,” Nitus responded, pausing to catch her breath, “yet.”

“And who exactly does the Grace belong to?” Ambassador Drake asked, trying to keep track of all the names. He knew a bit about the Iron Syndicate, a knock off of the Orions that didn’t want to share their name, but as to this Crimson Fleet, he had no idea.

“A third party, sir,” answered Captain Cayde, drawing a chuckle from Ambassador Drake. “Yeah, it’s all overly convoluted. The ship is owned by Stellar Industries, an independent mercantile corporation with permits to operate in Federation space, although, based on some digging, best guess is a shell company used off-book by one or more Klingon houses to operate within our territory.”

“I see,” Ambassador Drake sighed. “You know how much I love smugglers, Cassidy.”

“Oh, me too, Michael,” nodded Captain Cayde. “Me too.” Both of them absolutely despised the profiteers – Federation, Klingon, Orion, and others – that preyed upon the people of the Archanis Sector to enrich themselves. They got fat, while everyone else suffered.

“Ambassador, might I suggest we take the Grace, its crew and the contents of its hold back to Archanis Station for further investigation,” Nitus suggested to him. She wanted to leave the order as quickly as possible. If that meant leaving without another word to Torvak she was all for it.

“And expect Captain Torvak will just let us go on our merry way?” Ambassador Drake asked. “Yeah, not happening. Even my name only goes so far, Commander. The moment we turn and burn away with that K’Tinga in tow, he’ll make good on his promises.” He stroked his chin, considering his options for a moment. “Do we have any further details about the contents contained within the hold? Anything to go on at all? If you are right, and there is stolen tech aboard, we have every right to seize it – and the High Council might even thank us for doing so given the current standing of House K’varrak – but I’m reluctant to act without probable cause.”

“No sir. We do not have any probable cause,” Nitus responded, “but I do have a team aboard the Grace ready to break into the hold and confirm the tech is Federation in origin.”

“Could we argue rights to visit and search?” Captain Cayde asked. “Under the laws of armed conflict, we have the right to do so to assess the nature of cargo and other facts in relation to an ongoing conflict.”

“We are not at war with the Klingon Empire,” Ambassador Drake reminded him. “And I would like to keep it that way.”

“With the Empire, no, but House K’varrak?” Captain Cayde countered. “Torvak was certainly behaving as a belligerent.”

“I’ll consider it,” Ambassador Drake replied. He was wary of taking such a step though because of the implications it could have on their own mercantile vessels operating within Klingon territory. If they opened this door, the Empire could respond in kind, harassing their own vessels to an immeasurable degree.

“Sir, I’ve remembered something. Vozuk, the Orion in command of the Grace, told me he needed to be protected from the Klingons,” Nitus said, “he was a little drunk at the time so who knows if it holds water.” It was a major risk lying to Drake but she had to do something. The possibility of letting them go and this deal still going through would put the entire Federation in extreme danger and would give the Klingons an immeasurable advantage.

“A request for sanctuary?” Ambassador Drake winked as a lightbulb went off. “If he was serious, that would be something I’d entertain, but with a catch: in exchange for sanctuary, mister Vozuk must allow us to search his hold voluntarily.”

“Fat chance,” laughed Captain Cayde. “If they got illicit goods aboard, there’s no way he agrees.”

“It’d come without the need to open a door I don’t want to open,” Ambassador Drake pointed out. If Vozuk voluntarily allowed them to search his vessel, he would not be required to classify House K’varrak as a belligerent to qualify the neutral merchant ship for a forced search. “I’m willing to sweeten the deal to make him more likely to agree too,” Ambassador Drake added as he looked back at Captain Nitus, who seemed best positioned to make the offer. “You may offer to mister Vozuk that, in exchange for allowing us access to his hold voluntarily, we will grant him and his crew immunity from prosecution for anything we find.”

“I think he will agree to this,” Nitus said. Finally they were getting somewhere she thought to herself.

“Even if he agrees,” Captain Cayde pointed out, skeptical even that he would. “It still leaves the question of what we’re going to do with Captain Torvak.”

“His demands were for the ship and crew,” Ambassador Drake replied. “If he is willing to demonstrate his rights to the ship, I’ll happily turn it back over to him, less any illicit goods it contains.” To demonstrate that would also be to admit their links to this shell company that Nitus and Cayde had described to him. “And as for the people, they are free citizens who are welcome to make their own decisions.”

“But sir, if they’re really smugglers, we can’t let them go,” Captain Alleyne spoke up for the first time. She felt a sense of duty towards the people of the borderlands, those who ultimately paid the price for all the profiteering occurring at their expense. “This’d just be setting them back into the wild to do it again and again.”

“All the more reason for Cassidy to stay alert as he continues his sorties out here,” Ambassador Drake countered. That was the primary reason why interdictors like the USS Lincoln were part of the Archanis Sector revitalization initiative. “Given the parameters of the current predicament though, we’re going to have to settle for seizing contraband and not starting a shooting war.” Things weren’t always clean out here on the frontier, he knew.

“Ambassador, I think it’s a huge gamble on if Torvak will acknowledge his connection to Stellar,” Niyus said as she looked ro Frake. “He doesn’t seem like the type to claim the ship when he can just let it go and get another deal this time in another sector.”

“Then we keep the ship and the crew,” shrugged Ambassador Drake, but then it dawned on him. “Actually, if you can materialize an agreement from mister Vozuk, it doesn’t even so much matter if we give them what’s left of that aging K’Tinga.”

“But ambassador,” interjected Captain Alleyne. “It belongs to a civilian merchant corporation.” It wasn’t theirs to simply hand over to the Klingons.

“Indeed, and we’ll hold that option in reserve,” Ambassador Drake clarified. “But worst case, we pay reparations to Stellar Industries for the loss of their vessel, and as long as any contraband and all civilians that wish to leave go with us, the rest is water under the bridge when you consider the alternative is a shootout.” It was an easy decision. He turned back to Commander Nitus. “The next step is yours, commander. Make it easy for us and convince the captain of the Grace.”

“Yes, Ambassador,” Nitus said as she stood from the table. “If you will excuse me I’ll speak with him right now,” she said as she walked out of the conference room.

“What is it that you wanted to speak with me about?” Vozuk asked her as he sat down. This was only his second time aboard the Paramount and although it had been short he was beginning to become comfortable in the Federation comfort. He was in one of the conference rooms on board, not the one used by the senior staff however. This one had been picked to show the Viridian’s Grace when you looked out the window.

“Mr Vozuk, do you happen to know what’s going on?” Nitus asked him. She needed to get him to accept this deal so they would have a legal argument for searching the hold but she also needed to be able to give the Klingons something.

Vozuk raised an eyebrow at her and the idea of what was coming next intrigued him. “Answering a question with a question,” he said as he looked at Nitus. “This is going to be good.” He knew something was afoot when she had asked him to come aboard. For Nitus had told him she preferred to communicate over comms as it was ‘easier’.

Nitus looked at him. She wondered if she should just give it to him straight or try to cover it up a little bit because she knew lying to two people would end her career. If lying to the ambassador wasn’t hard enough. “Ambassador Drake has offered you a deal.”

Vozuk looked at her as he waited for her to elaborate.

“We will grant you and your crew immunity from prosecution if you let us search your hold,” she told him. Nitus was wary if he would accept this deal. Orions are not always the most helpful of species.

Vozuk stared blankly at Nitus. On the inside he was happy to know his crew and himself would be okay. “Commander, I must say this is a surprise,” he said as he turned to look out of the window at his ship. “I must say I’m not refuting the sincerity of your offer but I’m questioning where it’s coming from.”

Nitus needed to come clean to at least one person today. “I lied to Ambassador Drake. I told him you asked for protection from the Klingons,” Nitus said as she avoided eye contact. She was ashamed of her actions.

Vozuk sat surprised. Nitus had just admitted to having lied to an ambassador. He knew it had to be something worth risking her career over. “You already know what’s aboard. Don’t you?” he asked her.

Nitus shocks her head in agreement. “Yes.”

Vozuk stood from the table and walked to the window staring out as he thought of what to say. “Fine,” he said.

Now it was Nitus turn to be surprised. “I’m sorry. Could you repeat that?” She asked him her shook overwhelming her she hadn’t expected him to agree so quickly.

“Commander, you are right I do need protection from the Klingons, but not for the reason you think,” he said as he turned to look at Nitus.

First Officer’s Log Supplemental. The Paramount has returned to Archanis Station alongside the Lincoln, the Kennedy as well as the Viridian’s Grace. Captain Tovak begrudgingly agreed to let his claim on the Grace and its crew go as he was called back to Qronod. The Grace’s crew has been released and the ship itself has been returned to Stellar Industries. Commander Nitus is on her way to the Paramount after meeting with Captain Drake. We are to remain at the station until the arrival of Captain Octavian Jackson the newly appointed deputy commander of Task Force 93. Whom we are to transport to Devron Fleet Yards.

Despite being docked to Archanis Station. The bridge of the Paramount remained an active place aboard the ship. With engineers working to prepare the ship for its journey to Devron and logistics office resupplying the vessel.

Back on deck one in the observation lounge the ship’s senior staff gathered as they awaited Nitus to provide them with their new orders as well as provide an update on all they had missed during their dealings with the Viridian’s Grace.

“There have been some changes fleet-wide as well as some changes with the ship. Where do you want to start?” Nitus asked them.

“Let’s start with the fleet-wide changes,” T’Soni responded as the others nodded in agreement.

“The fleet has adapted a new policy. They will be relying on specific leaders and teams to complete missions as needed for missions, short or long-term. Meaning it won’t be unusual for one or all of us to move between ships as missions require,” Nitus said as she looked at everyone.

“How frequently will this happen?” D’Antonio asked.

“It would all depend on the mission at hand,” Nitus responded to him. “Moving along Fleet Admiral Duncan has moved from the operations office to the logistics office with Commodore Jori stepping up to take leadership of the operations office.”

“Never thought Duncan would make the switch from operations to logistics,” D’Antonio said as he looked at Nitus, then Lieutenant Jackson. “I always thought he would die in that position.” Everyone chuckled at his remark.

“There’s two more things. There’s a new task force within the fleet, Task Force 21. Of which we have not been assigned, instead we have been transferred to Task Force 93,” Nitus said as she finished updating them on the fleet’s business.

“Why have we been transferred?” Davidson asked her. It was strange. The Paramount was configured as the science variant what could they do in the humanitarian unit of the fleet.

“To be honest I don’t know,” Nitus responded honestly. “We also have our mission transport Captain Octavian Jackson, the newly appointed deputy commander of the task force we have been assigned. To Devron Fleet Yards. We have a little over twenty minutes before Captain Jackson arrives at Archanis Station. I would like to be ready in half that.”

The staff nodded as they acknowledged their new orders.

“Okay then you know what to do. Dismissed,” Nitus said sternly as she stood from her seat.

A red shirt crewman stood near the airlock. As the doors opened they blew a boatswain’s whistle signaling the arrival of an honored guest.

Captain Octavian Jackson, the newly appointed deputy commander of Task Force 93 stepped forward. “Permission to come aboard?” he asked.

“Granted,” Nitus said flatly as she reached her hand out. “Welcome aboard.”

“Commander,” he said as he reciprocated the action. “Thank you for having me.”

“The pleasure is mine, Captain,” Nitus said as she dropped her hand to her side. “This is my executive officer Lieutenant Commander T’Soni.”

“Commander,” Captain Jackson said as she reached out to grab the Vulcan’s hand. He shocked it softly before returning the focus to Nitus.

Nitus ushered him along.

“I’ve heard about your recent encounter with the Klingons,” Jackson said as they walked down the corridor with T’Soni and Captain Jackson’s aide-de-camp following close behind them.

“Yes well they started it,” Nitus said jokingly. Jackson chuckled at her attempt at being humorous.

“Are we close to being able to leave?” Captain Jackson asked her.

“Yes captain.”

“Good,” he said as they turned a corner and headed for the turbolift. “Can I let you in on a little secret?”

Nitus nodded to him eager to find out what he wanted to say to her.

“I’m the one who had you transferred,” he said in a hushed tone so the others couldn’t hear him. A smirk played on his lips.

“Why?” Nitus asked, puzzled. She didn’t understand why someone she had just met would have her transferred. Nitus knew of Jackson only by his reputation, nothing more.

“I’ve been watching you for a long time, commander. You are going to be my eyes in the field,” he said to her softly.

“Understood, Captain.”

They doors to the turbolift opened as they stepped inside. Nitus ordered it to the bridge. As they arrived the activity thatvhad been present earlier had simmered down to it’s normal activity.

“Captain on the bridge,” Nitus said as they stepped on to the bridge. Everyone stood in acknowledgement and saluted him.

“Return to your stations,” Captain Jackson said, his voice coming out smoothly.

“Ms. Lovar get me the dockmaster,” Nitus said looking to the communications officer.

“This is Paramount requesting permission to depart,” Nitus said as she made her way to the center chair.

“Granted,” the dockmaster responded before leaving the channel.

“Helm take us out one quarter impulse,” Nitus said looking to D’Antonio.

“Aye, quarter impulse,” he said as he tapped at his console moving the ship out of spacedock as the doors opened and they moved towards open space.

“Set across for Devron Fleet Yards warp 8,” Nitus said as she took her seat. T’Soni sat in hers and Captain Jackson sat in the one usually reserved for Lieutenant Reno.

“Standing by.”

Nitus looked to Jackson. She was about to ask him for to give the order but he simply gestured to her. Acknowledging she nodded to him and turned her attention back to the front.

“Take flight.”

At her command the Paramount surged forward as it headed for Devron Fleet Yards and their next adventure.