Ransom’s Quarters | Deck 3 | USS Elysion
21:19 Zulu

Jack Ransom lifted the corners of both cards which lay in front of him just high enough that none of the others seated around the table could see and glanced down at them. His expression remained impassive as he lowered the exposed corners back down to the green baize once more. He looked at the older man seated opposite him.

“I’ll keep them,” he said quietly.

Peter Valentine, ship’s surgeon and veteran of a thousand late-night card games over his sixty-two years gave a long, low, drawn-out sigh. “It’s je m’y tiens,” he corrected.

“Which means I’ll keep them,” replied Ransom with a wry smile.

“Je m’y tiens,” Valentine repeated, his tone level. “We’re playing Vingt-et-un, not fucking Pontoon… Captain, sir.”

To Valentine’s right, John Hobbes almost choked on his cigar, coughing a thick cloud of smoke towards the ceiling. Ransom grinned and looked at Thill Chivras with a gleam in his eye.

“You going to let Lieutenant Commander Valentine speak to his commanding officer like that, XO?” Ransom asked as he raised his beer tumbler to his lips.

“I certainly am not,” the Andorian agreed. He turned to face the older man. “Doctor Valentine. Please refrain from using such language when addressing Captain Ransom.”

“Well, that certainly told him,” Hobbes said with a grin as he splashed another measure of rum into his glass.

“I thought so,” Ransom agreed.

“My apologies, XO,” Valentine began slowly. “I promise never to admonish the captain publicly ever again.” He took a large swallow from the glass of ruby-coloured wine on the table in front of him. “Even when he is fucking wrong.”

Both Hobbes and Ransom erupted in raucous laughter, and this time even Chivras couldn’t help but smile.

“Alright,” said Ransom. “Are we playing this game or not?

Hobbes suddenly frowned, his rum glass frozen half-way to his lips. “We just dropped out of warp.”

Ransom turned to reach for the communicator attached to his uniform jacket, hanging on the back of his chair when the internal comm pinged.

The clearly-identifiable calm tones of Layla Thorne filled the compartment. “All hands, yellow alert. This is not a drill. Captain to the bridge. XO to the bridge.”

Main Bridge | Deck One | USS Elysion
21:24 Zulu

Ransom and Chivras stepped out of the turbolift to find Lieutenant Commander Thorne standing in the centre of the bridge, snapping a series of orders. Both newcomers could see immediately that all holographic control panels were inactive, and the consoles in standard configuration all displayed an identical image of the Greek letter omega.

“Captain on the bridge!” called the chief of the watch.

“What the hell’s going on?” demanded Ransom, moving towards the centre of the bridge.

Thorne turned to face him, her face a mask of concern. She ran a hand through her golden hair. “Captain,” she greeted him, the relief evident in her voice. “We dropped out of warp and now helm is unresponsive. The main energiser is still on line, but something is preventing us from going to warp. Then there’s this…” she extended an arm towards a wall of monitors all displaying the same image. “This… symbol.”

“It’s Terran. The last letter of the Greek alphabet.” Ransom tapped his communicator. “CHENG, Captain. Report.”

The voice of John Hobbes came back immediately. “Everything’s a-ok down here, Skipper. Green lights across the board. For some reason, I just can’t give you warp speed. I’m locked out.”

“But the warp core’s ok?” Ransom asked.

“The core’s fine, Captain. We’re not gonna breach if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m running diagnostics across all systems now. I’ll keep you informed.”

“Thank you, John. Ransom out.” The captain moved to the repeater console built into the arm-rest of the middle seat of three which occupied the command area of the bridge and tapped in a series of command override codes. Immediately the Greek symbols displayed across all of the bridge consoles were replaced by the familiar LCARS interface design and the holographic control surfaces positioned above them reactivated.

“Captain…” Chivras began.

“XO, maintain yellow alert. Confirm the status of all decks and liaise with engineering for updates. Run level three diagnostics on all primary and secondary systems. Make sure we are ready to move as soon as I give the order. You have the bridge.”

The confusion at the orders being given by his friend and commander was clearly etched on the Andorian first officer’s face. “I have the bridge? You’re going somewhere?”

“My ready room,” Ransom replied, already crossing the bridge in that direction.

“Captain…” Chivras began with a frown.

“Just carry out my orders!” snapped Ransom impatiently as he disappeared through the starboard doorway which led to his ready room.

Silence filled the bridge for several seconds as Chivrass processed what had just happened. In all of the years that he had known Jack Ransom, and certainly during the three years that he had worked under him as his executive officer, he had never before seen him behave in such a way. And he had never before spoken to him like that in front of the crew. He felt his antennae twitching in a combination of both anger and embarrassment.

“What the hell?…” whispered Ensign Brace from his position at the conn station.

“Mind your panel!” Chivras shouted at the young Bajoran, his emotions now having a target at which to vent. He turned on Thorne next. “You heard the captain’s orders, Commander! Carry them out! Or has someone decided that you’re no longer the officer of the watch and neglected to inform me?”

“No sir,” replied Thorne. “I mean, aye sir.” She turned away and began issuing orders to the operations officer and the chief of the watch. Chivras watched her for a moment before crossing to take his usual seat to the right of the captain’s, his jaw clenched.

Commanding Officer’s Ready Room | Deck One | USS Elysion
21:28 Zulu

“Computer, seal access to this compartment,” Ransom’s words were tinged with anger. He slipped off his uniform jacket and tossed it onto the couch by the window as he continued to his desk. There, as expected, the letter Omega was waiting for him, staring back at him from the screen of his desk console. He dropped into the seat behind the desk and ran his fingers through his hair. Just like Chivrass, he was angry. Not because of whatever it was that needed to be done next, but because he would have to lie to his crew about it – or at the very least neglect to give them all of the facts. And because this was about Omega, he was fully aware that it was quite possible that by his actions, he could be putting his crew’s lives in danger. They deserved better.

“Display secure data file Omega One,” he instructed.

“Voiceprint confirmed. Recognise Ransom, Jonathan T. Commanding Officer. State clearance code.”

“Clearance code Ransom-five-six-six-nine-indigo. Clearance level 10.”

“Clearance code acknowledged,” replied the computer. “Omega particles have been detected 1.2 light-years from this vessel’s current position. You are required to immediately implement the Omega Directive. All other mission priorities have been rescinded. All other considerations are secondary.”

Ransom sighed. “Shit,” he said softly, realising that even up until this point a small part of him had been hoping that this was nothing more than some sort of drill. But it wasn’t. This was real.

“Show me,” he said.

A yellow holographic representation of a planetary system materialised above Ransom’s desk, consisting of a small Class L planet, orbited by two moons. Ransom read the sensor data which streamed vertically past the image.

“Eskon IV. A Turei terraforming and mining colony. Computer, has Omega been detected close to the colony?”

“Unknown at this time.”

“What’s the population and makeup of the colony?”

“Most recent census data available from Mithrar Anchorage indicates one-hundred sixty five adults and forty-four children.”

“You bitch,” Ransom whispered.

“Please restate the query,” the computer replied.

“Doesn’t matter. Am I likely to get any support from Federation specialised containment teams at this time?”

“Negative.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Ransom mused. He crossed to the couch and shrugged into his unform jacket once more. “Alright. Let’s get on with it. Computer isolate this exchange and all associated sensor data, Starfleet Command Eyes-Only. Command authorisation Ransom-five-six-six-nine-indigo. Unseal this compartment.” The computer beeped it’s affirmation and Ransom moved towards the door which opened at his approach.

Main Bridge | Deck One | USS Elysion
21:40 Zulu

Crossing the bridge once more, Ransom took his seat. He could tell by the expression on his XO’s face that the Andorian officer was seriously pissed off with him. And to be fair, he had reason to be, Ransom conceded. He hoped that the man would be able to contain his emotions until they had a chance to talk in private.

“Helm, set a new heading. Zero-seven-eight degrees, mark fifty-two. The Eskon system,” he ordered.

Ensign Brace tapped the new destination into his console. “Aye sir. Heading set.”

“Warp nine. Engage.”

Chivras inclined his head towards Ransom. “Do we need to talk?” he asked quietly.

“We do,” Ransom agreed. “But not right now. Chief of the Watch – ask Lieutenant Commander Hobbes to come and see me in my ready room at his convenience.” He looked up and behind him to where Layla Thorne stood at her usual position. “Layla, can I speak to you in private please?” he pointed to his ready room door.

“Of course, sir,” Thorne replied with look of confusion.

“Captain?…” Chivras ventured once more.

Ransom stood up. “Chief of the Watch – the XO has the bridge,” he called out as he walked with Thorne to his ready room. Commander Thill Chivras, Executive Officer USS Elysion watched them go and swallowed hard.

Main Bridge | Deck One | USS Elysion
21:57 Zulu

The ready room door slid aside and Elysion’s chief engineer stepped out onto the bridge, followed by her commanding officer. Hobbes turned to Ransom, gesturing to the padd in his hand.

“Leave it with me, Skipper. I’ll let you know if there are any problems.”

Ransom shook his head in response. “There can’t be any problems, John. None at all.”

Hobbes looked as if he was about to respond, then thought better of it.

“Aye, sir.” He ascended the steps to the upper level and disappeared into the turbolift without looking back. Ransom turned to survey the bridge and found his executive officer watching. The two men made eye contact.

“Commander Chivras,” Ransom spoke softly, his expression unreadable. “Join me, please.” He turned and walked back into his ready room.

Commanding Officer’s Ready Room | Deck One | USS Elysion
21:58 Zulu

Chivras crossed the ready room, coming to a halt at parade rest in front of Ransom’s desk.

“Captain,” Chivras spoke the single word quietly, his face impassive. Ransom looked up at him from his seat.

“Commander. Please, take a seat.”

“Thank you, sir. I’d prefer to stand.”

“Sit down Thill, and stop being a prick.”

The Andorian officer’s jaw clenched in response but he did as he was ordered, slowly lowering himself into the seat opposite Ransom. The captain watched him silently for several moments as he considered what he was going to say next.

“Thill, we’ve been friends for a long time now…“

“Nine years,” Chivras interjected.

“Nine years. Feels longer, somehow.” Ransom grinned. Chivras didn’t. The captain continued.

“We’ve been friends for nine years… And you’ve been my XO for the last three of them. I’ve trusted you with the safety of this ship and her crew… hell, my own safety… on more occasions than I care to count. I’ve always trusted you.”

“Until now?” Chivras countered.

“No,” Ransom snapped back, his annoyance showing. He paused. “I’m sorry,” he said, his tone softening. “No. Not until now. That’s the point I’m trying to make – I’ve always trusted you. And I still do. That hasn’t changed.”

Silence hung in the air between the two men. Chivras folded his arms.

“Well, something’s certainly changed,” he noted.

“It isn’t you,” Ransom replied. “And it isn’t me. It’s the situation.”

“The situation?” Chivras looked incredulous. “Jack, I’m your XO. I’ve got your back whatever happens. We do this job together, in synchronicity. You just need to tell me what’s happening!” His tone rose once more, his emotions threatening to get the better of him.

“I can’t,” Ransom stated flatly.

“You can’t?” Chivras looked stunned. “What does that mean? Why can’t you?”

“Look… this isn’t personal and it isn’t by choice. I’m following orders.”

“Orders?!” Chivras almost shouted. “Captain… I’m your executive officer! Starfleet expects and requires us to be in agreement when carrying out every order they give us…” He gripped the arms of his chair tightly, his knuckles showing white. “I’m your back-up. Your right-hand. Your sounding board…” He hesitated before continuing, his tone softening once more. “Your conscience.”

Ransom took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Thill. If I could tell you what was going on, I would. You have my word on that. But I’m sorry, my orders are clear, I cannot share what we’re doing with anyone.”

“You’ve just briefed Thorne and Hobbes though,” Chivras countered. “Separately and in private.”

“Yes, on individual tasks I need them to complete. To fulfill my orders.” Ransom’s patience was clearly rapidly wearing thin.

“Can you tell me their instructions?” Chivras asked.

“I’m sorry, but no.”

“Jack… Starfleet assigns a commanding officer and an executive officer to each starship to ensure that there are four eyes on every order. Every order. The decision-making process sits with a command team – it cannot and should not sit solely with one individual.”

“It can in this case,” said Ransom bluntly. “Look, we’re going round in circles here. I have received orders and I am unable to share them with you. I need to know… whether or not I still have your support as executive officer and whether you’re willing to back me on this.”

Chivras considered his friend’s choice of words. What would happen if he told him that he didn’t have his support? Would he attempt to remove him as XO in order to complete his mission? He leaned back in his chair and forced a smile.

“Of course, you have my support Captain,” he said, wondering just how true those words were. He supposed that they’d both find out together, one way or another over the coming hours and days.

Ransom smiled in response. “Thank you. That’s all I can ask of you.” He checked his chronometer. “Listen, we have about nine hours before we arrive at the Eskon system. I suggest we both get some sleep while we can. I need everyone to bring their A-game tomorrow.”

Chivras stood up. “Aye sir. Understood. You’ll have it.” He nodded once, turned, and headed towards the door.

“Thill,” Ransom called after him. Chivras turned and looked back at his captain.

“Thank you,” Ransom said. “I appreciate it. I know how difficult this must be for you. If there were any other way…” he let the words hang in the air.

Chivras gave his friend a sad smile. “I know. It’s fine,” he lied. “Good night, Captain.”

The ready room door hissed open and the Andorian officer stepped out onto the bridge, leaving Ransom alone.

Main Bridge | Deck One | USS Elysion

07:07 Zulu

All eyes turned in silent expectation as Ransom stepped out of the turbolift. He had spent a fitful night in his quarters – he estimated that he’d managed to get somewhere between three and four hours of sleep – and had then showered, shaved, and dressed in a clean uniform.

“Captain on the bridge,” Master Chief Banquo broke off his conversation with the chief of the watch to make the announcement.

“Good morning everyone,” Ransom said softly as he descended the steps to the lower level.

“Good morning Captain,” Chivras replied as Ransom took his position in the centre seat of three. It was impossible to discern his executive officer’s mood from those three simple words and although Chivras’s tone sounded amenable, Ransom knew from experience that his friend would most likely still be brooding over last night’s frank exchange of views.

“Anything to report?” Ransom asked.

“Nothing that needs your attention sir,” Chivras replied efficiently. “There were one or two things that cropped up, but I’ve dealt with them.”

“Very well,” nodded Ransom. “Lieutenant Colia – time to the Eskon system?”

The Deltan chief conn officer half-turned in her seat to respond. “Seventeen minutes, Captain.”

Precisely on schedule. Ransom stood and ascended the steps to the aft starboard station which was configured as the bridge’s primary science console. Talak, Elysion’s Vulcan chief science officer watched him approach with an expression which, if watched by a less generous observer could almost be perceived as expectation.

“Talak, when we get to the Eskon system, I’ll need you to scan for this, every ten minutes…” Standing next to the science officer, Ransom tapped rapidly at the console.

“Of course, sir.” Talak raised an eyebrow with interest as he watched Ransom work. “If I may, Captain – that looks as though…”

“I don’t need a commentary, Talak. I just need you to scan for it. If you find it, let me know immediately. And once you’ve found it, that additional scan every ten minutes is to see if your initial readings have changed. If at any point they have changed, then you let me know immediately, OK?”

“Captain…” Talak began.

“Are we clear?” Ransom asked bluntly, interrupting the other man.

Talak glanced past him towards the command area where he knew without looking that Chivras was watching.

“Don’t look at him, look at me!” Ransom snapped angrily. “Are we clear Lieutenant Commander?”

Talak’s eyes snapped back to Ransom.

“My apologies, Captain. Yes, we are clear,” Talak nodded.

“Good. One more thing – I don’t want anyone but you conducting these scans. Unfortunately, that will mean you remaining on watch until the conclusion of this mission.” Ransom knew better than to expect his words to elicit an emotional response from the chief science officer, even though his orders to remain on watch were unusual to say the least. Talak nodded at his commanding officer’s words, almost as if he had been expecting them.

“Of course, Captain. I understand.”

“Thank you.” Ransom returned to his seat in the command area, conscious of two unusual factors – firstly, that the crewmember at each bridge station was working in complete silence – normally the background operational chatter between bridge personnel acted as a signal that all was well with the ship. Secondly, every single member of the bridge crew now studiously avoided making eye contact with their commanding officer. Even Chivras stared directly ahead at the viewscreen, the Andorian XO appearing to be intently examining the white lines of warp space as Elysion rapidly approached her destination.

Correction. Almost every member of the bridge crew avoided eye contact. Standing behind the chief of the watch’s seat, Elysion’s command master chief watched Ransom return to his centre seat, an expression of either curiosity or concern – or perhaps a combination of the two – on his face. Master Chief Joe Banquo nodded to his commanding officer as their eyes met, then giving chief of the watch Ballard a reassuring pat on the shoulder, he crossed the bridge to sit down in the vacant seat to Ransom’s left.

“And what do you need from me, Captain?” Banquo asked in a matter-of-fact manner.

“Just keep doing what you normally do, Master Chief,” Ransom replied quietly. He tapped his communicator. “CHENG, Captain.”

“Hobbes here, Captain.”

“Commander, have all modifications been completed?” Ransom asked.

“Aye, sir. All completed as per your orders. Everything is running just as smooth as silk down here,” Hobbes replied.

“Very well. Captain out.” He turned to look over his shoulder to where Lieutenant Commander Layla Thorne operated the tactical and security station directly behind the command area. “And your modifications, Commander?”

“Modifications to both torpedoes have been completed sir,” Thorne replied.

In the XO’s seat, Chivras’ expression remained unchanged, as if the conversations between Ransom, Hobbes, and Thorne were standard operating procedure. His gaze remained fixed on the forward viewer.

Ransom sat back in his seat for several minutes, conscious of the continued unnatural silence of the bridge crew as they worked around him. Eventually, Lieutenant Colia broke that silence.

“Arriving at Eskon in ten seconds. Five seconds. Three. Two. Dropping out of warp.”

The familiar streaks of white light which signified travel at warp speed fell away from the main viewscreen to be replaced by an image of a yellow star and the four planets which together made up the Eskon system.

“Talak…” Ransom said.

“Scanning,” the Vulcan science officer replied. The bridge crew listened to the cyclical sounds of the sensors as Talak followed his orders. “Two contacts,” he reported.

“Show me,” Ransom instructed as he stood up. A yellow-coloured holographic representation of Eskon IV materialised in the centre of the bridge, between the command seating area and the conn and ops stations. Ransom moved to inspect the small red spot which appeared to be in geo-synchronous orbit around the planet. “That’s one?” he asked.

“Yes, Captain,” Talak replied.

“And the second?”

“Confirming exact coordinates now,” Talak’s fingers tapped rapidly at the science console. “There. It is beneath the planet’s surface… three hundred and seventeen metres directly beneath what appears to be the primary atmosphere processor of a small colony.”

“Of course it is,” Ransom muttered to himself.

“Captain?” Chivras crossed to the holographic display to stand beside the captain.

“We need to avoid the red dots,” Ransom explained. “The red dots are very bad. And the colony is a Turei terraforming and mining set-up with over two-hundred people.”

“Terraforming…?” Chivras raised an eyebrow wryly.

“You know what I mean,” Ransom snapped. “The important thing is, we need to evacuate those people as quickly and as safely as possible.”

“They are in danger?” Chivras asked.

“Oh yeah,” Ransom nodded.

“From whatever those red dots are?”

“That’s right.”

“And the Turei are aware of the danger?”

“I doubt it. Even if they’ve noticed the appearance of them, I’d be surprised if the colony administrators have the equipment to identify the risk.”

Chivras walked around the planetary representation as he considered what Ransom had just told him. He leaned in closer to examine the red dot which was in geosynchronous orbit of the planet. He turned to face Ransom, a frown darkening his face.

“So, we’re just going to hope they’re happy to leave?”

“Yeah,” Ransom muttered as he returned to his seat. “Let’s not debate this now, Commander…”

“And if they don’t want to leave?” Chivras continued, ignoring Ransom’s words. “Are we planning to just make them?”

Ransom stared at his executive officer.

“Sit down, Commander. We’ll discuss this at a more suitable time.”

“Captain!” Chivras’ single word of exclamation was almost begging in its tone.

“Commander…” Ransom began slowly. “The colony – and this entire area is in significant danger. If the colonists aren’t evacuated immediately, they will most likely die.”

“Captain we cannot forcibly remove two hundred civilians from their homes!” protested Chivras loudly. “We have regulations which were created to stop us from doing precisely things like this!”

“Commander…” Ransom’s warning tone dropped an octave.

“Starfleet General Order 2,” Chivras continued. “No Starfleet personnel shall unnecessarily use force, either collectively or individually, against members of the United Federation of Planets, their duly authorised representatives, spokespersons or designated leaders, or members of any sentient non-member race, for any reason whatsoever,” he quoted, emphasising the last four words. He held his arms wide with palms facing upward. “Any reason whatsoever, Captain,” Chivras repeated quietly.

Ransom stood suddenly, his face flushed with anger. “I’m aware of my duties Mister! Now take your position or leave the bridge! I believe that I’ve made myself clear in terms of my expectations but if you find yourself unable to carry out your orders, you may relieve yourself of duty and I will note your objections in my log!”

The two command officers faced each other across the bridge, Chivras’ fists balled at his side, his confrontational stance complementing the furious expression on his face. Ransom had seen his friend’s temper on many occasions – but rarely directed towards him, and until now, never whilst on duty. To Ransom’s left, Master Chief Banquo shifted in his seat as if getting prepared to forcibly interject his body between the two senior officers if required.

“Commander, please,” the big man intoned.

Chivras looked first to Banquo, then back to Ransom.

“Thill…” Ransom addressed the XO by his given name. Moments passed and slowly, gradually. Chivras’ balled fists relaxed. The Andorian officer crossed the bridge without another word and dropped heavily into the seat to Ransom’s right.

The bridge crew members who had studiously ignored the situation earlier now looked on with open expressions of abject shock and surprise.  Ransom took some time to compose himself before addressing the communications officer.

“Ensign Shanko. Hail the colony, please… Turei colony, this is Captain Jonathan Ransom of the Federation starship Elysion.”

After some moments, the main viewer switched from the planetary view of Eskon, to a male Turei wearing the black tunic of that race’s administration division.

“I am Magister-Administrator Keelie,” he spoke slowly, his expression curious. “How may I be of assistance, Captain Jonathan Ransom of Elysion?”

“Magister-Administrator… I bring news of grave danger. You and your people must evacuate the colony immediately. Your lives are at a risk – I know this must come as a shock to you, but please believe me when I say that it is vital that you do as I ask.”

Keelie remained silent for several seconds before replying.

“Captain… this colony has been established for twenty-three years… There is no danger here.”

“There has been a… recent occurrence,” Ransom replied. “A new danger. Please… prepare your people for departure.”

“And if I was to… decline your kind offer?” Keelie asked, his tone now warier.

“Then I’m afraid that I would have to insist,” said Ransom. To his right, Chivras shifted position uncomfortably but remained silent.

The Turei administrator remaining silent for several moments, a pensive expression on his face.

“And by ‘insist’, does that mean you intend to forcibly remove us?”

Ransom stood to address the colony administrator and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

“Unfortunately, yes. But I was hoping that it wouldn’t come to that.”

Keelie sighed in resignation.

“It won’t come to that. I will need to brief my people. Some of them have families… How long do we have?”

“Two hours,” Ransom replied, stony-faced.

“Impossible!” Keelie almost scoffed in disgust, the first display of real emotion that the Turei had shown since the conversation had begun. “We will need at least 6 hours to ready ourselves, if not more! There are shut-down procedures to follow, and we have a number of delicate experiments at a critical…”

“Alright, I can give you three hours,” Ransom interrupted. “Have your people assembled in one area and ready to leave. Personal effects only.”

Keelie reverted to his prior demeanor and sighed once more.

“We will be ready. Keelie out.”

The communication channel closed and the main viewer once more showed the Eskon planetary system. Ransom returned to his seat, incredibly conscious of the silent gazes from the bridge crew.

What the hell am I doing? he asked himself. This goes against every tenet of everything that I believe as a Starfleet officer – and against how I’ve conducted myself as an explorer since the day I stepped aboard Redemption fifteen years ago. I wouldn’t be surprised if…

“Captain, the colony has activated their subspace comm array,” Ensign Shanko interrupted his reveries, the Arkenite communications officer turning in his seat to face him. “Would you like me to jam them?”

Ransom almost laughed out loud at how quickly the young officer had got with the script – a feeling which was just as quickly replaced with an intense sadness for the ensign. He shook his head quickly.

“No. Let them send their messages. The nearest Turei outpost is Mithrar Anchorage and that’s – what? Two days away at maximum warp?”

“Fifty-six point four hours,” corrected Talak with typical Vulcan precision.

Ransom smiled and looked over at his chief science officer.

“Thank you, Mister Talak.” He turned back to Shanko. “Mithrar Anchorage is fifty-six point four hours away at maximum warp. We’d be halfway to them before they even set off.”

“Captain,” Talak spoke once more, but this time his voice had a tone of urgency. “An unidentified vessel has just dropped out of warp. Range two-hundred and ten thousand kilometres, bearing… zero-two-nine.”

“They’re headed for the colony,” murmured Chivras, speaking for the first time since his angry exchange with the captain. The executive officer leaned forward in his seat.

“On screen,” instructed Ransom.

The main viewer focused on what looked to be a battered-looking merchantman of uncertain origin.

“The vessel design lineage does not match anything in our main computer,” Talak reported.

“Designating unidentified vessel as Master-Fourteen,” Thorne called out from the tactical station.

“Shanko – hail them and warn them off. Let them know that if they get closer than 50,000 kilometres, they will be fired upon,” Ransom spoke softly but firmly.

“Aye sir,” Shanko replied, turning back to his console. Master Chief Banquo crossed the bridge to the communications station, giving his silent support to the relatively inexperienced junior officer. To the captain’s right, Chivras shifted his position in his seat once more. Ransom glanced at him.

“You have something to add, XO?”

“No sir,” Chivras replied after a moment. “I have nothing to add.”

“Very well.” Ransom nodded, then looked over to the science station. “Talak?”

“Master-Fourteen has altered course, Captain. Her new trajectory will take her past Eskon IV with a perigee of 62,000 kilometres.”

“Any acknowledgment from Master-Fourteen?” Ransom asked the communications officer.

“None sir,” Shanko replied. “But they definitely heard me.”

“Evidently,” Ransom said drily. He looked at Chivras. “XO, I’ll be in my ready room.”

“Aye sir,” Chivras watched his captain – his friend – cross the bridge and disappear through the doorway of his private sanctum. As he leaned back in his own seat, he wondered just what on Andoria had got into Ransom to make him behave so out of character. He glanced over to the science station where Lieutenant Commander Talak unblinkingly met his gaze. The Vulcan officer was obviously having similar thoughts…

Chivras considered leaving the bridge to go and inform Doctor Valentine of his concerns. Valentine had known Ransom for even longer than Chivras had – plus if he had reason to believe that the captain was ill in some way… He decided against talking to Valentine at this stage. Although Ransom’s behaviour was unusual, there could be a valid reason for it which he was currently unable to share with anyone else. He would give his friend the benefit of the doubt – at least there had been no risk to life, after all. And if he raised his concerns with the CMO, then he knew that there was no going back from that… He looked over to the ops station.

“Lieutenant Rayas – do we have a countdown clock?”

The Bolian officer nodded as her fingers moved deftly across her panel. A bar of scarlet numbers against a black background appeared on the forward bulkhead just below the main viewer, the numbers steadily counting down towards zero.

Two hours, fifty-four minutes, and thirty-six seconds.

Thill Chivras leaned back in his seat once more and considered the situation.

Two hours, fifty-four minutes, and thirty-six seconds.

And then Captain Jonathan Ransom of the Federation starship Elysion would commit a clear and absolute breach of the Prime Directive.

Main Bridge | Deck One | USS Elysion

10:13 Zulu – 21 minutes until evacuation deadline

Lieutenant Commander Talak, chief science officer of the USS Elysion pursed his lips as his eyes quickly scanned the lines of data which scrolled across his console once more. He tapped his communicator.

“Captain, Bridge.”

From his position in the centre command seat, executive officer Chivras turned sharply to the right, looking up towards the Vulcan science officer, his eyes widening slightly and his antennae twitching in anticipation.

“Ransom here. Go ahead, Commander.”

“Captain, you instructed that you should be informed if there were any changes in the results of my ten-minute interval scans…”

“I’m on my way,” Ransom cut him off. Within seconds he appeared through the doorway which led to his ready room, almost running up the small flight of steps to the raised semi-enclosed science station at the starboard rear of the bridge. “Show me,” he ordered as he took up position next to the science officer.

Talak tapped at his console, a visual representation of Eskon IV filling the left half of one of his monitors. Two red dots were visible on the screen, red dots which Ransom alone knew were manifestations of Omega molecules. The first dot continued to maintain a geosynchronous orbit above the planet, whilst the second dot appeared to somehow be within the planet itself, just over three hundred metres beneath the colony’s primary atmosphere processor.

“This was ten minutes ago,” he informed Ransom. “These readings are consistent with each of the twelve scans I have completed since your first orders. However, these are the results of my latest scan.” With a theatrical flair which belied his ethnicity, Talak tapped a short series of commands into the console and the right-hand side of the monitor came to life.

At first glance, the two sides of the screen looked identical, then Ransom realised that the red dot beneath the surface of the planet seemed to be enlarged. He looked at Talak anxiously.

“It’s got bigger?” he asked with surprise.

“No sir,” Talak replied as his fingers played over the console once more. As the magnification of the right-hand screen increased, Ransom realised that what had initially been a single molecule of Omega was now… multiple molecules.

“My God,” he muttered. “It’s replicated itself.”

“Unknown,” Talak replied. “However, the space which initially contained a single molecule now contains seventeen molecules.”

“Will they continue to increase in number?”

“Also unknown,” Talak admitted. “However, I shall continue to monitor the situation.”

“Thank you. Well done, Commander.” Ransom chewed on his lower lip as he slowly descended the steps to the bridge command area. Chivras wordlessly vacated the centre seat for his captain, moving back to his own seat.

“Mister Shanko, open a channel to Magister-Administrator Keelie,” Ransom ordered.

After a pause, the Turei colony administrator appeared on the main viewer.

“Captain Ransom, you agreed three hours. You are somewhat early,” he said, his displeasure evident in both tone and expression.

“My apologies, Magister-Administrator,” Ransom raised both hands in a placating gesture as he approached the viewscreen. “The danger I spoke earlier about has increased significantly. We need to get all of your people off the planet as soon as possible.”

Keelie gave a sad smile. “Do you realise that is the first time that you have offered your apologies to me Captain Ransom? Perhaps if you could explain just why you believe that we are in such danger, then perhaps…”

On hearing Keelie’s words, Ransom resisted the urge to glance back at Chivras, the conversation a familiar one.

“I’m sorry, Magister-Administrator but I’m not at liberty to share that information.”

Keelie gave a humourless laugh.

“Two apologies in one conversation, Captain Ransom? Now you really are spoiling me.” He sighed deeply. “Very well. Most of my people are already assembled in our commissary – your sensors will no doubt be able to detect them. They are ready to beam up to your ship now. I will… what is the human phrase? Ah, yes – I will ‘round up the stragglers’. Keelie out.”

The image of the Turei administrator winked out and Ransom tapped his communicator.

“Engineering, Captain.”

“Hobbes here, Captain.”

“Commander – we have two hundred individuals to beam aboard as quickly as possible. What are our options?”

“Well, using all three transporter rooms means we can beam up eighteen at the same time. Based on an individual transport cycle of say, fifteen seconds – and assuming everyone down there is ready to go at the point we need ‘em – that means around seventy a minute… So maybe just over three minutes for the whole lot? Of course, if you can get us to within ten thousand kilometres, we could use the emergency transporters and grab them all at the same time.”

Ransom shook his head even though the engineer couldn’t see him.

“That’s too close – I can’t risk that. Three minutes it is, then… bring all three transporter rooms online.” He tapped his communicator to close the channel. “Lieutenant Rayas, get Chief Carrington and his staff to meet our guests as they come aboard and escort them to the crew lounges on deck six. Tell him to make sure that they have everything that they need. Lieutenant Colia, take us in closer to Eskon IV – but no closer than forty thousand kilometres. Keep the body of the planet between us and the geosynchronous ‘red dot’ at all times.

Hearing affirmative responses from both the operations and conn officers, Ransom returned to his seat. Master Chief Banquo ascended the steps to the rear auxiliary consoles and began to configure one to show transporter operations.

“What can I do to help Captain?” Chivras asked as the captain sat down. Resisting the urge to respond with a sarcastic comment about supporting his commanding officer, Ransom merely shook his head.

“Thank you, XO. I have it covered.”

“Forty thousand kilometres, Captain,” Colia reported from her position at conn.

“Very well. Rayas, commence transport.”

“Aye sir.” The Bolian chief operations officer tapped at her console. “All three transporter rooms report transports are underway.”

Ransom’s pulse was pounding in his temple. Forty thousand kilometres from the planet surface, with that orbiting Omega molecule as far away as possible… With luck, the distance and the multiphasic shielding which Hobbes had installed around Elysion’s warp core would protect the ship somewhat – but if the molecules beneath the planet which had somehow replicated themselves detonated… Well, it would be over before they realised what was happening. At least for his crew and the Turei colonists it would mean that there would be no pain.

“Captain, Master-Fourteen has returned,” Talak reported. “They are headed towards Eskon IV.”

“God-damn,” Ransom muttered. “Open a channel. Unidentified merchantman, this is the Federation starship Elysion. Our previous warning still stands – if you do not change course immediately, you will be fired upon.”

Silence filled the bridge.

“No response,” Shanko reported.

“Have they changed course?” Ransom demanded.

“Negative,” said Talak. “They will breach your previously stated perimeter of fifty-thousand kilometres in one minute, sixteen seconds.”

Ransom unconsciously ran one hand through his hair, his pulse pounding. If this damn-fool freighter captain continued his approach to Eskon IV, the proximity of his warp core would most likely detonate the Omega molecule in orbit around the planet – which in turn would collapse most of subspace in the sector and destroy both the merchant vessel and Elysion at the same time. Then if the cluster of molecules below the planet’s surface were to be triggered in some sort of secondary detonation… Ransom couldn’t imagine the extent of the damage to subspace.

His initial urge was to raise Elysion’s shields, to give his ship and his crew as much protection from any Omega explosion as possible – but he knew that doing so would halt all transporter operations and prevent the evacuation of the remaining Turei civilians from the planet below.

“Rayas, how long until the evacuation is complete?”

The operations officer checked a display.

“One minute, fifty-two seconds,” she stated.

Too long, Ransom thought. Too damn long. If he broke off transporter operations to intercept the merchantman, maybe he could force the captain of that vessel to alter course. But then again, maybe not… Plus he’d be putting Elysion dangerously close to the orbiting Omega molecule in order to do that. The proximity of Elysion’s warp core might end up detonating the molecule anyway…

A wave of nausea washed over Ransom as the inevitability of the only course of action remaining to him became clear. He turned to Talak.

“What’s the crew of the merchantman?” he asked quietly.

“Forty-six,” the science officer replied. “Of various races.”

“Captain…” Chivras began, getting to his feet.

Ransom cut him off.

“Unidentified merchantman, change your course immediately! This is your final warning!”

“No change to the merchantman’s course,” Talak reported. Ransom was already ascending the steps towards the tactical console even as the science officer spoke.

“Captain!” shouted Chivras as the horror of what Ransom planned to do finally dawned on him. “Captain! Please don’t do this!”

“Thorne, you’re relieved,” Ransom said to the tactical officer as he drew level with her.

“Sir?” she replied with confusion.

“You’re relieved!” Ransom barked. Thorne stepped away from the console in surprise, making way for the captain.

“No!” shouted Chivras, sounding almost in pain as he scrambled up the steps on the other side of the bridge. “That’s an unarmed ship with a civilian crew!”

Ransom was tapping rapidly at the controls of the tactical panel, loading the forward launchers and activating the targeting system when his executive officer barrelled into him, knocking him sidewards. His left hand grabbed the trailing edge of the console which prevented him from falling to the deck.

“You’re relieved!” Ransom bellowed furiously, his anger fuelled partly by the knowledge that Chivras’ interference – however well-intentioned – could kill them all, and partly due to the fact that it was his executive officer – his right-hand – and one of his closest friends, who was trying to stop him.

“You’re wrong!” Chivras shouted back, his anger and frustration mirroring that of his captain. He stood, breathing heavily and blocking Ransom’s return to the tactical console.

“Master Chief!” Ransom barked. “Remove Commander Chivras from the bridge and escort him to his quarters!”

Banquo looked from Ransom to Chivras and back again. The two officers whom he admired most on the ship, facing off against each other in anger. For the first time in his long career, he found himself at a loss about what to do.

“Captain, Commander…” he began in a vain attempt to defuse the situation.

“Now, Master Chief!” spat Ransom, his anger turning then towards his senior NCO. Decades of training and experience came to the fore and Banquo stepped decisively towards Chivras in response, both hands held up before him in a placating manner. Chivras struggled in vain to maintain his position, but Banquo successfully managed to move the executive officer away from the tactical console. Stepping forwards, Ransom jabbed his finger down onto a single trigger control, his head snapping up towards the main viewer in time to see the lone photon torpedo streak away from beneath Elysion’s primary hull.

Seconds later, the merchantman disappeared in a bright white flash of light and the viewscreen automatically dimmed. The flash faded after several seconds to reveal empty space – the unknown merchant vessel had been destroyed completely.

In Banquo’s firm grip, the previously struggling Thill Chivras now seemed deflated, the destruction of the freighter having stripped all of the fight from him. Tears stung the Andorian officer’s eyes as he stared at his friend in disbelief.

“Oh, Jack…” he whispered.

Ransom turned towards him, but looked directly at Master Chief Banquo.

“Get him off my bridge,” he said hoarsely. As Banquo led the unprotesting executive officer to the turbolift, Ransom descended the steps to the command area. “Status of transport?” he said, his tone level.

“Rayas!” he snapped at the operations officer. “Status of transport?”

At the sound of the captain’s raised voice, Rayas closed her mouth which hung open in shock and turned back to her console.

“Transport complete,” she reported. “Transporter Chief Drexx reports that all of the colonists are safely aboard.”

“Very well,” Ransom nodded as he retook the centre seat. “Colia, move us away from the planet, full impulse. Let me know when we’re at a distance of three-hundred and fifty thousand kilometres. Silence filled the bridge once more as Elysion moved rapidly away from Eskon IV.

“Three-hundred and fifty thousand kilometres sir,” Colia reported.

“All stop.”

“All stop, aye.”

Ransom turned to look over his shoulder to where Lieutenant Commander Thorne had retaken her position at tactical.

“Commander Thorne – load both gravimetric torpedoes into the aft launcher and target the colony.”

“Aye sir,” she replied. The turbolift doors opened with a hiss as Master Chief Banquo returned to the bridge.

“Lieutenant Colia, set a new course for Mithrar Anchorage. Engage at maximum warp on my mark,” Ransom ordered. Banquo lowered himself into the vacant seat to Ransom’s left with a delicate grace which belied the man’s size.

“Commander Thorne… fire one. Fire Two.”

“Torpedoes away,” Thorne reported. The silence continued for several seconds before Talak spoke.

“Eskon IV has been destroyed.”

“Any changes to subspace in the local vicinity? Any unusual sensor readings to report?” Ransom asked.

A pause, then:

“No sir. No unusual sensor readings detected – subspace or otherwise.” Talak paused once more. “However, I must advise you that the shock wave of the planet’s destruction will reach us in twenty-four seconds.”

“Understood,” Ransom nodded.

“How are you doing, Captain?” Banquo asked softly, the man’s baritone almost a whisper. Ransom looked at him as though genuinely surprised by the man’s question. He gave him a tight smile in response.

“You know what, Joe? I don’t know yet,” replied Ransom. “I really don’t know. And I think it might be that way for a while.”

Banquo stared into his eyes for several seconds before giving a curt nod and turning away, seemingly content with his captain’s reply. He glanced down at the repeater console built into the arm of his chair.

“Engineering reports ready, Captain,” he announced loudly. “Warp speed at your discretion.”

“Thank you, Master Chief. Lieutenant Colia? Engage.”

Elysion jumped away in the direction of Mithrar Anchorage and the shock wave which had successfully absorbed the energy of the Omega molecules and contained the remains of the planet Eskon IV, the Turei colony and an unnamed civilian freighter with a crew of forty-six innocent people continued to expand gradually before finally petering out to nothingness…