While The Iron Is Hot

The launch of Challenger doesn't go quite to plan!

PROLOGUE

Manoir de Christofle, Place de la Concorde, Paris, France, Earth
Monday, January 20th, 2155

Monday, January 20th, 2155
Manoir de Christofle, Place de la Concorde, Paris, France, Earth

The winter sun attempted to shine through the dark grey clouds that loomed over the French capital city. A brisk icy wind swept in between the busy roads as Parisians and tourists went on their early morning travels. Many of them wrapped up thick long coats and complemented by hats, scarves and gloves to fight against the bitter cold temperatures that currently plagued the European continent. 

Near to the centre of the city was the Place de la Concorde, located on the Champs-Élysées. Various buildings of different sizes and ages sat along this thoroughfare. One of these, the Manoir deChristofle, was a building that had been built shortly after the signing of the Traité d’Unification in 2130 that legalised the formation of the United Earth government. The architects at the time wanted it to share similar features of the other local buildings that had survived the Third World War in the French capital. Inside the decor resembled one of elegance and luxury. The floors were either carpeted or had marble tiles. Each room and corridor was filled with bold colours and was outfitted with elegant furniture to resemble the stately importance of the building. The Manoir was the official residence and workplace for the Prime Minister of the United Earth government.  

Like every morning, the office of the Prime Minister of Earth was filled with a buzz that was expected of any government building. The various staff members were getting on with their daily business of running the United Earth government. Those that were walking down the corridor of the third floor though all moved aside as an entourage of Starfleet officers walked down it after departing from one of the lifts at the end of the corridor. Rear Admiral Samuel Gardner led the group of officers, offering a warm smile to those that passed him. Gardner was a tallish man of African American descent that appeared to be in his late forties. Almost four years ago he was one of a three people shortlisted to command the first NX-class ship to leave Earth, however Starfleet Command had given that honour to another man instead; Jonathan Archer. Since then he was given a promotion to Commodore and oversaw Starfleet’s efforts in constructing the planned six NX-class ships as well as upgrading Starfleet’s fleet with the latest technologies on offer. For three years he was the Deputy-Director of Starfleet Operations however all of that changed a year ago when he was promoted to Rear Admiral. He was ordered to take over as Director of Starfleet Operations after the tragic death of Vice Admiral Maxwell Forrest, his superior. Since then, the former test pilot had found himself attending more meetings than he had imagined. He wished he had turned down that promotion almost three years ago and had the opportunity to at least command one of the new NX-class ships. Nevertheless, he had a feeling that he would be kept busy after today’s meeting with Prime Minister Samuels and members of his cabinet. 

Gardner’s group reached their destination, a set of two heavy looking dark varnished wooden doors and were cleared to enter by the security officers who stood on guard on either side. They were led into a smaller office first; this was the workplace of the Prime Minister’s executive assistants. Sat behind a lavish glass desk was a woman who appeared in her early fifties with short auburn coloured hair. She was signing some paper documents when she noticed the arrival of the group before her. Gardner had met the woman on a number of occasions, so he greeted her with his usual warm smile.

“Madame Fontaine, a pleasure to see you again.” Gardner said as he offered her a handshake.

The petit French woman rose from behind her chair and took the admiral’s hand. “Bonjour Admiral Gardner. The Prime Minister is ready for you.” She said with a tender smile and a thick French accent. 

Gardner thanked the older woman before nodding to the rest of his staff to follow him as he opened the main entrance to the Prime Minister’s office. The room itself was referred to as Le Bureau Cezanne (The Cezanne Office) due to several paintings by the French artist Paul Cezanne hanging in the room. The floor was trapezium shaped, with the shortest side having a large bay window that looked out on to Paris. In front of the window was the Prime Minister’s desk with a few armchairs and couches in the centre of the room. The furniture in the room was a mixture of modern designs that complimented the artwork of Cezanne. 

“Good Morning Mister Prime Minister.” Gardner said as he locked eye contact with Earth’s head of government who was currently sitting in one of the armchairs in the middle of the room. On one of the dark blue sofas sat four members of Samuels’ cabinet, three women and a man while on another armchair was another man. All of them were dressed formally like Samuels in various suits of different styles.

“Admiral Gardner, come in.” Nathan Samuels said as he stood up from his chair to greet the Starfleet officers that were now coming into his office. Samuels’ cabinet members also stood up to greet the officers with a round of handshakes. Once the formal hellos were dealt with everyone sat themselves down in the armchairs and sofas. 

As the Prime Minister, Samuels would be chairing the meeting and spoke first. “Well then ladies and gentlemen we have a lot to get through this morning and I am very grateful for Admiral Gardner and his staff for joining us.” He smiled at the admiral; he then looked down at the small computer tablet in his lap before looking back up at the Starfleet flag officer. “Before we start our discussions, Admiral, I’m curious what’s the status of the Challenger’s construction?” He asked.

Gardner was perplexed as to the relevant reasons why Samuels was asking such a question, particularly as the third NX-class ship was almost finished and its launch had been published from every single media network across Earth. Nevertheless, he answered it. “I spoke with Captain Karim and her first officer this morning, they’re confident that the Challenger will be ready for her scheduled launch within a fortnight.”

“Excellent, their launch will help with these matters that we are about to discuss.” Samuels said with satisfaction as he then looked down at the computer pad on his lap. “Down to business then everyone.” He looked back up at the group after briefly reading his notes. “Earth hasn’t had it easy in recent weeks. The summit that was meant to finalise the Coalition of Planets has been stalled as representatives continue with negotiations.  From what we can tell the Vulcan, Andorian and Tellarite governments are pretty much in, however there is uncertainty from other possible members including the People’s Republic of Coridan, the United Rigel Colonies and the Denobulan Confederation.” 

“What type of uncertainty Nathan?” asked one of the cabinet members. Everyone looked at the man who sat in one of the armchairs opposite to the Prime Minister. The man in question was Haroun al-Rashid, Earth’s Minister/Secretary of State for the Interior Office. The Arabic politician had been part of the Earth delegates for the talks for the Coalition of Planets. He was also considered one of Samuels’ closest political allies and friends. He wore a smart beige suit, white shirt and a creamy coloured tie that went along with his suit. The way he was sat in the arm would make anyone believe that he was extremely comfortable in the chair, this was possibly true, and it was most likely the chair he favoured to sit in when meeting with Samuels in his office.

The Prime Minister gazed at al-Rashid as he answered. “Their concerns range from trade route disputes to sharing of intelligence to actual joint-fleet programs.” He turned back to the rest of the group before carrying on. “I’ve spoken with the president and she, along with the leaders of the three other states that are fully in this with us have agreed that we should all attempt to work closely with those that are still on the fence. Representatives from Earth, Vulcan, Andoria and Tellar Prime will be sent to each home world to speak with heads of states and government.” He paused as he allowed the seriousness of what he was saying to enter the thoughts of those around him. “Earth will be tasked in heading up the delegation heading to Denobula. We’ve been invited by Premier Nerlox to see how we can assure members of his government that joining the Coalition will benefit Denobulans.” Nathan paused as he looked at one of the women sitting near to him. “Madilyn, I want you to be our lead representative on this.”

Madilyn Campbell was Earth’s Minister/Secretary of State for the Foreign and Commonwealth Office. She was in her late forties and like Samuels hailed from the United States. She was renowned as being a gifted diplomat, negotiator and public speaker. After Nathan made his remarks of her being the lead delegate she smirked and looked at him from her spot on one of the sofas. “You’re hoping my good rapport with Premier Nerlox will work to our advantage?” 

Samuels shared Campbell’s smirk and nodded. “Being the former Earth Ambassador to Denobula has its benefits Madilyn. Your reputation precedes you on Denobula and Nerlox trusts you. If you can win him and others from his government over then we would be in a strong position.” 

The discussion was interrupted when one of Admiral Gardner’s attachés whispered in his ear. Gardner rose from his chair and looked down at the politician. “Mister Prime Minister, I’m sorry to interrupt this meeting but I’ve just been informed that there’s been a shuttlecraft accident in orbit, resulting in the death of several Starfleet officers.”

The entire room fell silent for a brief second. Samuels spoke, looking up at the admiral. “Do we know who?” 

Gardner nodded solemnly. “Captain Karim is listed as one of the casualties.” It was unfortunate news, particularly as they had just mentioned her. “If you don’t mind, I would like to return to San Francisco and find out more of what has happened.”

Samuels rose from his chair as he spoke. “Yes, of course, admiral. Keep me informed. We will carry on and let you know what we discussed later.”

The Admiral and his entourage all rose from their seats and bid their curt farewells to the other ministers in the room. Once the door behind them closed it was Campbell who spoke up. “Did he say Captain Karim, as in the skipper for the Challenger?”

All Samuels could respond with was a brief solemn nod.


Challenger NX-03, San Francisco Orbital Shipyards, Earth orbit

Commander Lloyd Burton was lying with his back against the cold deck plating as he realigned several power relays on Challenger’s phase cannons. Burton was in his late thirties and would soon become the ship’s First Officer and Chief Armoury Officer once it was launched in just under two weeks. Until then he was designated as its Deputy Construction Manager. 

Launching the Challenger was a venture he was excited about as well as having jitters over. Even with the fifteen years of active field service under his belt, the idea that he would be going further in to space than he had ever been before was what was making him have mixed feelings about the whole thing. He was starting to understand the emotions conveyed in various reports he had read from his counterparts on Enterprise and Columbia

A bulk of Challenger’s construction was pretty much completed now, it was just the fine-tuning of the ship that was required. He had to get this realignment completed before the end of the day so his armoury team could start work on the targeting scanners. The buzz of the intercom going off interrupted him from his work. Sighing to himself, he pushed himself up from his position on the floor of the main armoury and made his way over to where the nearest communication panel was. He pressed the button to receive the call and spoke into it. 

“Burton here.” 

Sir you’re needed on the bridge at once. The captain’s shuttlepod has just collided with another craft and has crash landed in the English Channel.” Quickly spoke the voice of Ensign Martha Habiba, one of Challenger’s science officers.

Burton couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I’m on my way.” He quickly exited the armoury and sprinted all the way down the corridor to the nearest lift to get him to the bridge. The lift journey felt like it was taking forever, but eventually he arrived.

“Report?” He asked loudly, directing his question to the British-African science officer, as there were a number of technicians and engineers working on various stations. 

Habiba gestured for the commander to join her at the science station. “We lost contact with the captain’s shuttle three minutes after it lifted off from Saint Pancras/King’s Cross station in London. The Captain reported a small Rigelian ship approaching them at high speeds, but before they could evade them, they collided. Captain Karim reported that Lieutenant Commander Rossi was killed by the impact and she was attempting to land the shuttle in the English Channel. The radio then went dead, we detected an explosion mid-air. We haven’t been able to determine if the explosion was from either shuttles or just one.”

Burton couldn’t believe it. Challenger’s second officer and chief science officer, Alec Rossi was dead and possibly its captain too. The three of them had only recently started to get to know one another. “Have we heard from Starfleet Command?”

“They’ve told us to remain on standby as the British Royal Navy has sent two ships in, the H-M-S King William V and H-M-S Daring. They’re looking for survivors. Other coastguard services from Britain and French services are preparing to leave their ports to help out. A no-fly zone has been put up by the Royal Air Force also.” Habiba answered. 

Burton felt useless, he wanted to take Challenger’s other shuttlepod and head down there to find out what happened to Captain Karim and Commander Rossi, but he knew he would receive an ear bashing from Admiral Gardner if he took such an action. He looked at the chair in the middle of the bridge: the captain’s chair. It had only been installed yesterday and Captain Karim had yet to sit in it. She had joked about saying she wanted to christen it when they launched, feeling if she sat in it before the left, she would jinx their maiden voyage. Now Lloyd wondered if she would ever return or if it would remain an empty chair for the foreseeable future.

ONE

Republic NV-02, Orbiting Mars
Saturday, January 11th, 2155

Saturday, January 11th, 2155

Republic NV-02, Orbiting Mars

“…we’re gathered today not just to bid farewell to Major Viktoria Lin Yu, known to many of us as Spectre…” Captain Tess Lane’s speech went in her thick Australian accent, “…but also because the food was delivered fresh from Mars, sparing us from the further abuse that our chef takes so much sadistic glee in serving to us!”

A roll of laughter enveloped the room, the strongest coming from the chef himself, and then quickly died down allowing the commanding officer to continue.

“Major Yu was with us for three years as head of the Military Assault Command Operations unit detached to our little ship. She was the first military officer to step on board these decks, and I am sure most of us still remember our reservations we shared when she and her team arrived. Even I had some serious concerns and I was the one who requested her presence!” The Australian captain paused as she looked around at the room before carrying on. “Since that time though, Yu and her team have been through thick and thin with us: when Nausicaan pirates were attacking ships on our patrol route, getting into scraps with Klingon raiders, to rendering aid to colonial worlds stricken with disaster, to exploring worlds and civilisations. She and her team became close knit members of our crew, guardians of our away missions, dedicated defenders of our ship and fellow crewmen. We laughed, we cried, we fought, we joked…we even all dressed up in red uniforms on her birthday…and subsequently received a stern speech on ‘impersonating Royal Canadian Mountain police officers!’”

Laughter went throughout the crammed mess hall again, as the memories of that day came back into thought, and quickly died again to let Lane speak, leaving only smiles in their wake.

“So, to Major Viktoria Yu, I say…you have been a friend and a colleague. You’ve impressed with your skill and tactical acumen, surprised us with your curiosity of science and cultures, and as you leave us for your post on the Challenger, you leave us with fond memories in our hearts and an empty space in our ship…”

“Literally.” The science officer chimed in with a grin as the captain finished. “I think tomorrow will be first time in years that we’ll actually be to find the Anthropology lab available!”

Laughter erupted again from the assembled crew, this time with even more vigour at the unexpected ending from the chief scientist of the ship, and it continued for a good five seconds before the Lane gestured for everyone to sit down again. “Thank you for that, Lieutenant…and now, to say her piece, the woman of the hour, Major Viktoria Yu.”

Viktoria cleared her throat, smiled, and got up from her position at the long table at the head of the mess hall, where the senior staff was seated. She glanced out at the rest of the mess hall, at the tables that were draped in white cloth and the blue jumpsuit Starfleet crew who sat there, her eyes picking out the grey outfits of her MACO team that peppered the sea of blue. “Thank you for the kind words, Captain. I’ll keep my speech short, as I know we are all looking forward to food that contains no re-sequenced protein.” She stated with a smirk and small chuckle. “I have come to admire all of you for your brilliance, creativity, and personality and I would like to stay among you all and continue serving by your side, but Captain Karim’s offer of a position on the Challenger Trumps all that, because honestly? Have you seen the MACO Commander’s Office on an NX-class starship? It’s an actual office!”

She gave a mischievous grin and leaned forward. “Not, a walk-in closet with a desk and terminal which I am proud and honoured to leave, in the capable hands of my replacement, First Lieutenant Fatima al-Heidari, who shall be promoted to Commander of the MACO detachment as soon as I take a my last stop off the deck plating of this fine vessel that I have called home for the past three years. Fatima, I suggest you stretch first before doing paperwork, believe me, with that desk, your legs and back will thank you for it. Now, with the Captain Lane’s blessing, let’s eat!”


Wednesday, January 15th, 2155

Orbital Station-One, Earth Orbit

“Major Yu?” A voice came from behind her, as Viktoria stared out of the bay window of the station’s observation lounge-alpha, taking in the star-field and silver dots of spaceships and orbital installations in the background. Slowly, Viktoria turned around to meet the man who the voice belonged to, a short fellow in a blue Starfleet jumpsuit with red markings on his shoulder and the rank pip on his chest of a Chief Petty Officer. He also wore a blue turban wrapped around his head, and had a sheathed kirpan dagger at his side, elements of his Sikh heritage.

“Yes, that’s me.” She replied.

“Chief Petty Officer Hansra Singh, Quartermaster of the Challenger Project…I am here to pilot the pod that will take you to the ship.” The Sikh man explained as he gestured to the hallway that led to the docking port. “Captain Karim is waiting to meet you in person.”

“Then, let’s not keep her waiting.” The Major stated as she began walking to the port. “Please lead the way, Chief Singh.”

The quartermaster nodded and led the MACO officer to the nearby pod. As the doors closed behind them, they sat down in the cramped transport pod and then detached from the station and began to move quickly towards the nearby dry-dock complex.

“Have you ever been on an NX-class before, Major?” Singh asked as he piloted the small vessel.

“No, I’ve spent the last three years stationed on an NV though.” Yu answered as she leaned back in her chair and began looking towards the dry-dock displayed in the distance through the cockpit window.

“If it is not out of my realm to say so, you are in for a treat then.” The quartermaster said with a grin beneath his beard. “The Challengerhas seven decks, dedicated facilities for training and briefing. My team just finished installing the last few equipment lockers in the MACO storage area the other day. In fact, it’s rather a large room. There’s lots of space for storing whatever equipment you’ll need.”

“When will that equipment arrive?” Yu asked as eyes caught a glimpse of the ship’s hull through the gaps in the dry dock’s arms.

“The pulse phase pistols, hard-shell backpacks, and grenades have arrived and are currently being stored in the dry-docks cargo bay, waiting to be loaded into the newly finished stocks on F deck.” The Chief responded. “The pulse phase rifle shipment and EVA gear will arrive in two days. They were held up due to a shipping error with the manufacturer. We got a container filled with old Winchester model three plasma bolt carbines instead. I can secure a few of those for your use if you wanted to use such antiquated weapons instead.”

“No, that will be fine, thank you Chief. The barrels are a bit long for use in deck to deck close quarters combat anyways…not as easy to maneuver around corners as the pulse phase rifle…what about the melee gear?”

“A shipment of type-two tonfa-style stun batons and several utility survival knives are currently en route on a sub-light transport from the lunar colonies. Don’t worry Major, the ship will not be leaving dock without all its equipment on board.”

“I seem to remember that the first NX left without its phase cannons installed.” Major commented with a smirk.

“With respect, Major the Enterprisehad to leave in a hurry, and they didn’t have me as a quartermaster!” Hansra replied with a laugh. “I used to manage the cargo loading at San Franciso spaceport, compared to that, this is nothing!”

“I used to be on an emergency response team stationed out of Cape Breton spaceport, I believe that.”

“Besides, despite all the little ‘hiccups’ in the scheduling and deliveries, Captain Karim and Commander Burton have been able to keep us on track for our scheduled launch.”

Viktoria suddenly glanced quickly over to Hansra, a look of concern showing past a break in the cold professionalism that usually marked her face. “That wouldn’t happen to be Commander Lloyd Burton, British fellow, would it?”

“Yes, that he is actually.” Hansra answered, his brow rising against the folds of his blue turban in mild surprise. “Do you know of him?”

“We used to serve together on the NV-02 a few years back. What’s his position in all this?” Viktoria said with some concern showing in her voice.

“He’s the Deputy Construction Manager and will be Karim’s first officer and armoury chief when the Challenger leaves dock. If you want, I can arrange for you to meet with him after the Captain, perhaps catch up and discuss old times?”

“No,” Viktoria said with a resigned sigh. “I think it’s better if I just speak with the captain and then go check on my team’s facilities.”

Besides, she thought, the last thing he needs is me around, possibly bringing up bad memories. This will teach me to always check the full staff manifest before accepting a job again. Damn it.

“How long before we dock?” She finally asked after a silent moment.

“Three more minutes, Major.” Chief Singh answered as he manoeuvred the pod around a dry-dock arm and gave Yu her first view of the ship that was about to become her new home.


Monday, January 20th, 2155

Columbia NX-02, Earth orbit

“Are you sure this is a good idea Commander?” Ensign Feng asked as he looked nervously over Nicole’s shoulder. Feng was the newest member of the Science Department aboard Columbiaand Nicole had taken it upon herself to get the newly graduated Ensign up to speed. She had however hoped that he would have gotten over this nervous phase a bit faster.

“You saw the same data I did. The substance is completely inert without some kind of energy running through it.” She replied somewhat tersely. 

“Yeah I know, but we all saw what happened when it was hit by the plasma rifle burst…”

“Which is why we aren’t going to use plasma energy in our tests. I have no intention of blowing up this whole lab, especially not while I’m in it. Besides we also saw what it could do with the right energy source, a perfectly natural, renewable energy source. Ensign, that’s worth a little risk!” Nicole said the excitement rising in her voice. 

“What’s worth a little risk Commander?” Nicole heard a female voice ask from the doorway. Turning around she was greeted by the none-too-pleased visage of her Captain and friend Erika Hernandez.

“Just doing some tests on that substance we found on P-X-L-eight-eight-seven.”

“That’s the one the Seffrans were using as their camp’s power source wasn’t it?” Hernandez asked, her interest piqued as she came up beside Nicole to get a better look as Feng made a discreet exit to the Science Lab anteroom.

“Yeah that’s it. They also used it interchangeably for their lights, equipment and some of their ship’s systems.” 

“I do remember you mentioning that it was a highly efficient use of power.”

“‘Extremely efficient’ would be a better way to describe the substance’s properties.”

“Didn’t you also say there were some issues with artificially creating it and compatibility issues with our EPS systems?”

“Well yes…but I’m working on it.”

“And didn’t you also say that if you weren’t able to make any progress by the time the refit was finished you would take a break from your tests.” Hernandez asked, turning to face Nicole, a stern look now spreading across the Captain’s features.

“I do vaguely remember mentioning something to that effect, yes.”

“And…”

“And that I would get off the ship for a couple of days, which I did by the way!” Nicole said now on her feet mirroring the Captain’s stance. 

“Going down to Starfleet Science to drop off test samples and research data does not count in any way, shape or form.”

Normally Nicole would have deferred to her superior but this time she knew what Erika was trying to do. In the few short years they had known each other Erika had become well aware of Nicole’s near constant family troubles. This was just the Captain’s latest attempt at “fixing her problem”. And it wasn’t that Nicole wasn’t grateful for the effort but she was getting a bit tired of the awkward homecomings.

“Look Captain…Erika… I appreciate what you are trying to do. Really I understand and a few years ago I’d have agreed with you, but I’m tired…tired of the long silences when my parents ask about what I do out of politeness not real interest. When they are actively holding back their urge to try to get me to change my mind!” Nicole let out her voice rising a bit.

“Well…I certainly understand why that could be frustrating, but it also sounds a bit hollow.”

“You thought that was hollow….” Nicole said more to herself than Hernandez as she slumped back against the lab table.

“Coming from you, yeah it kind of does. We’ve been on this ship for almost a year now and I’ve known you a whole lot longer.

In all that time I can count on one hand the times I’ve seen you give up on something you really wanted. And I know you sure as hell weren’t happy about it. So what’s different this time?”

“I haven’t exactly given up; I’m re-evaluating my options in Zen-like seclusion. Besides, I still have Claudia.”

“Who you call but rarely go see.”

“I’m never on Earth, how else am I supposed to keep in touch?”

“You’re on Earth now, sort of. What’s your excuse?”

“I haven’t gone because she would probably do the same annoying mother hen, pestering that you do!”

“Well, she sounds like a very bright and intuitive woman and you should listen to her.” Hernandez said, breaking the tension between them. Despite how hard she tried, Nicole couldn’t keep from smiling at Hernandez’ comment. 

“You know that is almost the exact thing she said about you when we last talked.”

“Like I said, smart woman.” 

“You know, I’m usually the one doing the mentoring and doling out the sage advice.” Nicole said, some humour returning to her voice.

“Yeah well I have my moments. So are you going to listen to your ever wise Captain and take a couple of days?”

“Yes, after…after I run this test.” Nicole said avoiding Hernandez’s glance.

“You will do anything to put off something you hate, won’t you?”

“Yeah, so I have it all set up. So would you like to be my lab assistant?” 

“Um, no. I’ll just watch from the bleachers, out of projectile range.

“Coward!” 

“When it comes to one of your experiments, you better believe it.” The captain said as she moved behind the lab’s protective screen. But before Nicole threw the switch the comm panel came to life.

“Bridge to Captain Hernandez. We need you up here Captain. There’s been an accident.”


Monday January 27th, 2155

Denver, Colorado, United States of America, Earth

The rectangular-shaped kitchen table was positioned towards the very middle of the kitchen, the focal point in a room that measured just shy of the largest in square footage amongst the many others comprising the Alcott home. The theme throughout was dated country, not western mind you, but rather that of an old country farmhouse, perhaps pulled from an old magazine of Better Homes and Gardens. The Alcott family had assumed permanent residence for more than five generations. The home had been well-tended to, retaining many of the Victorian qualities of its original construction, further emphasized by the shabby-chic features added to by its various caretakers from years past into the present day. It lacked many of the attributes and amenities often found in more modern homes, but that didn’t seem to bother those that lovingly referred to this place as home and possibly served as one its draws.

The kitchen table was laid with a concord grape coloured tablecloth, its surface was laid dishevelled with used stoneware plates and beverage cups, sterling silverware was stained with chocolate frosting and yellow cake crumbs that seemed to match the remnants left on the cloth napkins. Balloons of varying shades in colour hung limply in the air, while streamers and confetti dusted the oddly skewed high-back chairs and black and white chequered kitchen floor. Torn wrapping paper, ribbon and bow littered the floor, their prior contents removed with excited haste. The neglected half-moon shaped leftovers of a chocolate frosted vanilla cake sat forgotten atop its proud pedestal.

Now empty, the kitchen served as a real time capture of a celebration interrupted. Its once buzz of activity had been relocated, humming near the pair of solid mahogany doors that led out onto the ample girth of the front porch, which extended the entire length of the front of the house. Although mostly quiet, there were moments of intermittent sobbing as the group of eight circled two individuals.

‘Why must you go now?’ The words were never spoken, but signed; the deliberate flare of her hands conveyed each word while tears slowly slid down each cheek.

“There’s something that’s happened and I need to go.” He both spoke and signed the reply, gently wiping away each tear as he pulled his mother into a firm embrace. She pressed her face into the meat of his shoulder, tears soaking into the thin material of his black t-shirt. As he held his mother, he felt his father’s strong arms wrap around him, then his brothers, sisters and those of his grandparents and cousin. They stood like this for a very long moment, each weeping and sobbing. It was a difficult goodbye, not knowing when they would be able to see one another again… if they would see each other again.

‘Be safe. Stay strong. Come home to us.’ His mother signed as he slowly descended the brick steps leading to the sidewalk where the transport waited patiently. He nodded coolly, wiping away a stray tear. Reaching the very bottom step, he turned one last time to see his collective family huddled together, their own eyes misty and brave smiles were attempted and valiant waves filled the air. He returned a meek wave himself before taking a deep breath; his chest puffed as he turned away and disappeared into the small confines of the transport.

Today, Ezrah Alcott had just turned twenty-two years old and had been celebrating with his family when he received the communication from Command, ordering him to report on board the Challenger as soon as possible. No further detail was provided aside from a brief statement indicating there had been a “situation” of some kind. He wasn’t due to report on board for another week, but unusual circumstances had warranted this change and so he would dutifully comply and follow his orders. He neither liked nor looked forward to the prospect of leaving his family under such very short notice. The fact that he had only one week before departing had been difficult enough; now having to leave under such short notice and under the current circumstances was unbearable.

Yet, he had chosen this life and intimately knew the unique demands being a Starfleet officer entailed. He’d worked far too hard over the last four years, dedicating his every waking moment and giving so much to earning his commission. It had been a vehemently difficult and arduous road, but one that he embraced with outstretched arms and an open mind. And his hard work had paid off, even through the most difficult and perplexing of hardships; at the conclusion of those four years, he’d been approached by Captain Rani Karim of the Challengerand personally asked to start his Starfleet career as the ships chief helm officer.

It was an unprecedented offer and one that he simply couldn’t turn down. He was well aware that this assignment would take him away from his family for extended periods of time, years at the very least. But he relished the idea of serving on board the third class of starship produced of its kind, built specifically for venturing out to explore the farthest reaches of the galaxy. And behind the controls steering that vessel he would sit. It filled him with pride and a patriotic sense of ownership. To serve as a representative of Earth and to have been personally selected from amongst some of Starfleet’s best and brightest, well, it made his heart pitter-patter.

Although this wouldn’t have been how he’d have liked to experience the bon voyage, why delay the inevitable? So as he sank back into the seat of the transport, he wiped away one final tear before instructing the driver of the intended destination, the sadness of saying goodbye now giving way to the excitement of new beginnings and the prospect of venturing out to explore the very unknown.

TWO

Challenger NX-03
Tuesday, February 4th, 2155

Lloyd had found the best way for him to get something off his chest was to beat it out of his system. So right now, he found himself pounding the hell out of the punch bag in Challenger’s gym. Sweat and anxiety poured from his body with every blow he gave out. His expression showed one of concentration to any onlooker however it didn’t truly reflect his focus. It was driven with a mixture of anger, frustration and utter soul retching. His grief of coming to terms of losing Captain Karim and Commander Rossi had been a source of strength for him the last few days but now he had to let it go. It had only taken him an hour after their funerals to return to Challenger and make the decision to visit the ship’s gym. He knew if he didn’t get all of emotions out of his system now then he wouldn’t be able to function and focus properly now. 

As he pummelled the bag, he thought of how his decisions and actions had got him this far on the Challenger


Monday, December 23rd, 2154

Portsmouth, Hampshire, United Kingdom of Great Britain, Earth

Lloyd sat quietly on the bench watching the newest ship to be launched in the British Royal Navy, the HMS King William V from the Royal docks of Portsmouth. The huge super-carrier was going to be appointed the new flagship of the British fleet. Watching from afar, Lloyd could hear His Majesty King Nathan I blessing the new ship named after his grandfather. Lloyd was concentrating on the speech when he was interrupted by the arrival of his brother, Roman. 

“I thought I would find you here.” Roman remarked as he took a seat next to him. “You okay Lloyd?”

Roman was only a few years younger than Lloyd but the two brothers were extremely close however Roman knew how to wind up Lloyd like any younger brother could. Roman stood an inch and half taller compared to his older sibling however was slightly slimmer in build. He had deep sandy coloured hair and shared the same piercing blue eyes with his brother. Unlike his brother, Roman had his hair cut short and was stubble free. 

Lloyd wasn’t paying too much attention to his younger brother’s arrival or question but eventually snapped out of what he was staring at when a round of applause erupted once the bottle was smashed against the hull of the new ship. “Sorry?” He returned and looked at his brother.

“I asked if you were okay.” Roman repeated as he shoved his hands deeper into his big thick black coat. It was a typical winter’s day in Britain and with the bitter cold sea breeze coming in from the Solent, it only added to the freezing temperatures that the country was experiencing. 

Lloyd stared at his brother; Roman was either being sarcastic or genuine. As the Christmas holidays were upon them the Burtons had all seen each other in the past week for a brief family get together. Lloyd hadn’t seen any of his family since he had asked for a leave of absence from the Republic to deal with losing his girlfriend Ros. They had all known about Ross’ death but when Lloyd had seen them all, they hadn’t really spoken about it in great depth. He was now leaning towards the former of Roman’s sincerity just because Roman knew exactly the answer to that question he had asked. “Remind me again when is Columbia leaving again?!”

“Hey you’ll miss me!” Roman countered back and playfully punched his brother on the arm. 

Lloyd smirked slightly and took in a deep sigh. “I suppose you have your uses now and then.”

The two brothers sat in silence for a few more moments as the huge aircraft carrier was launched from the docks and made its way out of Portsmouth. A number of smaller ships, from the British Royal Navy and merchant fleets escorted it out of the harbour. 

The younger brother broke the silence. “Okay I’m just going to come out with it because you know I love you and someone has to say it. I know you’re going through a difficult time Lloyd but you either talk about it to someone or you deal with it and move on.”

Even though his words stung like hell, Lloyd knew his brother was right. He hadn’t spoken to anyone since Ros’ death. He didn’t know what to say or where to begin. He had been hurt too much. Roman pulled his brother into a hug and eventually Lloyd broke down and let out what he had been holding in for ages now.

“Why the hell was she taken from me again? Why now? We had only just got back to where we had been.” Lloyd said as he sobbed into his brother’s shoulder. 


Thursday, November 14th, 2154

Republic NV-02, orbit of Denobula II, Denobula Triaxa system

The day had been long and was far from over. The seismic activity was now calming down on Denobula and from their efforts the crew of the Republichad helped rescue nearly three hundred people and supported the Denobulan government in setting up four large shelters on the southern hemisphere. 

Lieutenant Commander Lloyd Burton was overseeing the last of Republic’s landing parties who were participating in search and rescue operations on one of the tropical islands in the south eastern hemisphere. The climate and landscape reminded him heavily of New Zealand back on Earth. His party was in a small town that had been close to the epicentre as many of the buildings had collapsed under the pressure. Hundreds were estimated to be dead under the rubble. His team consisted of himself, nine MACOs and Republic’s chief engineer: Lieutenant Ros Noble. They had just found a family taking refuge in an old bunker and had escorted them to the nearest rescue vehicle. Moving slowly down the road his communicator beeped, alerting him of an incoming call. He took it out of his jacket’s arm pocket and flipped it open.

“Burton here.” He answered having a feeling it was his captain calling.

“Report commander.” Said Captain Tess Lane over the communicator. 

Burton automatically replied. “We’re about to enter the last building standing ma’am, local officials tell us it’s an orphanage. Scans indicate faint life signs beneath the surface.” 

“Very good commander, I want your team back on the Republic soon, you’ve spent the whole day down there. You need a break.” Lane ordered. “The Denobulan Premier has informed me that they’ve been able to get more search and rescue teams prepped and ready to move into your area.”

Burton smirked, knowing the captain well that she truly did care about the wellbeing of her crew. “Yes ma’am, we’ll be back shortly.” 

“Good luck, Lane out.” The captain finished the call and gave the team the opportunity to enter the building.

Ros Noble walked slowly by Burton’s side as they entered the structure. Her short blonde hair was pulled back behind her ears with a hair band. Even though they had been working for almost seven hours without a break, she didn’t appear as filthy as the other team members. She had unzipped her jumpsuit and undone the top buttons to her undershirt to help her cool down. Nevertheless, she looked as professional as she always did. 

The team’s flashlights flew against the walls in the close to pitch darkness that surrounded them. Ros was scanning away at the structure, attempting to find if it would truly hold any longer. She winced slightly as the readings came through, automatically Burton recognised her expression. 

“Not good news I take it?” He asked as he approached her.

“If we don’t feel any more tectonic activity the building should hold for at least another six hours under its own weight, but I can’t tell you how quickly it will collapse if the ground shakes just slightly.” She answered as she intensified her scans. 

Sighing under his breath, Burton went on to the next question. “What about those life signs?” 

“Six of them, all just over eight feet under us.” She answered. 

The next hour or so the team slowly made their way through rooms and eventually down stairs to a place where they could find the trapped souls. In what appeared to be a scene only made from nightmares they came across a group of children who were all huddled together in the centre of the room over the body of a woman. Once Burton had introduced them to the group of children, the eldest child told them it had been their teacher who had sacrificed herself to get them down here into the safety bunker. Just as Burton was about to tell them it was time to leave, the ground shook. 

“We’ve gotta get out of here now!” Noble screamed as dust started to fall from the ceiling. 

“Agreed, let’s move these children out.” Burton commanded. 

The next events all happened in a blur for him. He remembered them all climbing out of the hole they had cut out to get to the children, passing the children through as the ground continued to shake, however once they reached the main hall the trembling seemed to get worse. It wasn’t until they arrived at the foyer that something went crack, followed by a huge bang that in turn led to Burton feeling someone push him forward out of the entrance. He only had enough time to turn around and see it was Noble pushing him clear from a falling beam that soon impacted against her and pinned her down on to the ground. The noise her body made as it landed against the floor sent shivers up and down Burton’s spine and made him sick to his stomach. The entire team rushed to free her; however, they were too late. It had crushed her spine and she only had moments to live.

“You can’t!” Burton quietly sobbed as he held her close, knowing what was going to happen.

Noble lifted her free left hand to his cheek as a tear rolled down her cheek. She brought him in close and kissed him with as much energy as she had left. “I’m so sorry it took me this long to find you again.” She whispered before taking her last breath. 

Burton had remained there at her side, guarding over her dead body until Captain Lane had arrived with another team. Lane had somehow gently prised him away and put him on to the shuttlepod back to the Republic

Days later Burton stood in Lane’s ready room, barely holding himself up to attention.

“Permission granted Lloyd.” Lane had said softly as she passed him the computer tablet back to him. He had given her a request for an immediate extended leave of absence from active duty. She hadn’t questioned him at all as she knew the whole story and his reasons. She also knew she was losing a great first officer. “Take all the time you need.” She added before dismissing him from her presence.


Monday, December 23rd, 2154

Portsmouth, Hampshire, United Kingdom of Great Britain, Earth

After finally releasing the pain inside, Lloyd had shared everything with his brother. His anguish after losing Ros the first time when she had suffered a major loss in her memory, which was later followed by her painful decision to leave him as she didn’t know him. The heartache only grew more when she was assigned to the Republic. Every day he had to see her but during that time together somehow she started to remember what they had and who he was. They started off slowly, seeing each other and by the time she had died on Denobula the two of them were extremely close. He was considering asking her to marry him. Now he had lost that opportunity. 

“So, what will you do now?” Roman asked, once again breaking the silence that fell between them.

“Mum has offered me a job with her charity.” He answered.

Roman rolled his eyes and gave out a small huff. “I heard, but really Lloyd, you want to be her CEO? That’s not who you are mate.”

“I can’t return to the Republic Roman. I just can’t.” Lloyd countered back as he pushed away another tear.

“Then apply somewhere else. There are plenty of ships out there looking for experienced officers. Request a transfer and see what Starfleet has to offer.” Roman suggested a piece of advice that Lloyd would act on the next day…


Tuesday February 4th, 2155

Challenger NX-03

Burton was now taking a break from his workout. He had taken a sip of water from the bottle he had brought with him when he had seen his reflection in the mirrors along one wall in the gym. His entire body was covered in sweat and this was even more apparent with his drenched black vest. He didn’t have time to take another sip when the doors to the gym parted open and walking in was a man he was hoping not to see for some time. Rear Admiral Samuel Gardner. 

He turned around to face his superior officer. “Admiral.” He said acknowledging his presence.

“Commander.” Gardner replied as he walked past the various workout stations. “Are you free to talk?”

Burton nodded. “Of course, sir.”

Gardner placed his hands behind his back before he spoke. “Commander, I know how you feel right now. You have no idea where you stand in the grand scheme of things because the person who shall be leading all of this,” He said gesturing around the room, that was his way of speaking about the Challenger, “isn’t here. This ship and its crew before its maiden voyage are in a period of uncertainty. So, I’m here to shed some light and hopefully help get things back on track.”

“Understood sir.” Burton said as he listened attentively to the admiral. 

“Captain Karim was a major player in getting this ship together and picking all of her crew and getting to know them. Starfleet has lost a great officer before her time. However, I regret to say that we don’t have the time or the luxury to truly mourn her and Commander Rossi’s losses.” Gardner began to pace in front of the commander. “Before her death Captain Karim was to be briefed on Challenger’s first mission, one that was of the utmost importance to Earth and its security with the upcoming signing of the Coalition of Planets Compact. That mission must still be carried out. The Command Council feels that we must press forward in finding Captain Karim’s replacement at once as we will need Challenger involved in flying the flag for Earth sooner rather than later. I think it’s what Captain Karim would have wanted too. The crew needs to know there isn’t a leadership crisis.”

“I couldn’t agree more sir.” Burton interjected with. He knew that Gardner’s visit was a courtesy call before he announced who they would be sending to take over. 

“It hasn’t been easy for us to decide who would be the best candidate to take over from Karim. Nevertheless, we have reached the conclusion that we need someone who knows the ship and crew as well as Captain Karim did.” Gardner stopped pacing and turned to look at Burton. “Lloyd, we’ve decided to promote you to the rank of captain and give you the Challenger.”

Burton was shocked. He wasn’t expecting that. “Me sir?” It was all he could get out.

“Yes Lloyd. You’re an experienced field officer and there isn’t anyone else who hasn’t trained as hard as you for this assignment or put in the time with the crew as much as Karim did.” Gardner stated with conviction.

“I appreciate the vote of confidence sir, I truly do, however surely one of the other captains of the other NX-class ships that are going to be built are better suited?” Lloyd asked.

Atlantis and Discovery’s captains have their own ships to worry about. You’re next in line, it only seems right.” Gardner remarked. “Do you accept?”

Burton thought about it for a moment. He knew he could hear Captain Karim in the back of his mind telling him to do it, hell even Ros would be shouting at him to do it. “Very well sir. I accept. Thank you.”

“Then Lloyd Burton I hereby promote you to the rank of captain and order you to take command of this ship and its crew with immediate effect.” Gardner ordered and extended his hand to shake Burton’s. “Congratulations Captain Burton.”

Burton smiled as he shook the admiral’s hand. “Thank you, sir.”

Gardner smiled in delight that Lloyd had accepted his offer. “I’ll make the official announcement to the rest of the crew shortly and then to the press. I suggest you get a shower and change into your new command uniform straight away.” He said. 

“Yes sir.” Burton answered. 

“I’ll leave you to it then.” Gardner finally said before leaving the Challenger’s gym. 

Burton now looked back over to the mirror-covered wall and somehow for the first time in days a small smile appeared on his face. He knew he could only do this new job well by honouring Captain Karim with everything he did with it now.

THREE

Challenger NX-03
Tuesday, February 4th, 2155

Once Ezrah had arrived on board the Challenger more than a week prior, it had taken very little time or effort to learn of the reason as to why he’d been recalled so expediently. A shuttlepod accident had stolen the lives of Captain Rani Karim and Lieutenant Commander Alec Rossi. Although he only knew of Rossi on paper, Ezrah had the privilege of speaking with Karim on a number of separate occasions; the Captain had even made it a point to visit with Ezrah and his family at the Alcott residence in an attempt to better place Ezrah and his nuclear family at ease when considering the prospect of Ezrah’s accepting the offer to join the Challenger as its chief helm officer. Although he didn’t know Karim on a more personal level, Ezrah had quickly formed a very respectful admiration for what she was hoping to accomplish as the commanding officer of the Challenger. In their brief discussions, the two had shared similar opinions and viewpoints regarding Earth and the Coalition of Planets; it had appeared that Karim was also genuinely interested in helping to guide Ezrah in his career and continuing education. It had meant a lot having been personally approached by Karim, it meant that she had dedicated a considerable amount of time to researching prospective candidates, hand selecting each member of her staff after relentless scrutiny. Ezrah felt honoured that Karim would have even considered him as a viable candidate, but to have actually extended the offer altogether, well, that caused a swelling of pride.

With the unexpected passing of its first commanding officer, however, the prospect of shelving the Challenger project had become a very real possibility. This caused an uncertainty for any of those involved in the project, unsure of what the Command Council’s final decision would be on whether to persevere through such a strenuous predicament or to focus efforts elsewhere for the time being. With the decision still unknown, the uncertainty caused a shift in the personal timber of those on board Challenger. Ezrah wasn’t immune to this; yet he somehow discovered a way to take advantage of the situation, choosing to rather shift attention to lending a hand and helping wherever and whenever possible. At the moment, the crew was forced to work under the presumption of the status quo; although inflexible in-of-itself, it allowed for each crewman to focus on the task at hand and suppress the discomfort felt in unknowing where their career might shift to next should Challenger not disembark as planned.

In tandem with the discomfort of the unknown also came the sadness and depression felt in losing fellow comrades. Although Ezrah was only just now starting his career with Starfleet, the same couldn’t be said for many of the other crew. For some, they’d served with both Karim and Rossi on several different occasions, enduring the loss of not only a fellow peer, but also dear friends. Ezrah had yet to experience such a loss in his young life, but was also aware that this loss was one such factor of serving in Starfleet. Accidents happened all the time and sometimes those accidents took from us those we cared for deeply. This type of tragedy wasn’t inherent singularly to the professional atmosphere, however; of course, they each knew this all too well. But when you served in such close quarters and the line blurred between professional and personal, it was hard not to shoulder the burden of loss in some collective way.

In the company of peers, Ezrah had attended the funeral services for Karim and Rossi. They were beautifully conducted ceremonies that had amassed an enormous gathering of family, friends, co-workers and even those guests that had never met Karim or Rossi, yet had been moved by their passing in some way. Each individual expressed his or her condolences through grief and pain. In truth, Ezrah felt nothing more than indifference, an indifference perpetuated by his own limited relationship with both persons. Yet, he was there to show support regardless.

Shortly after the funeral services had concluded, Ezrah returned to the Challenger in an attempt to refocus efforts to being productive in some way, under the impression and hoping for the launch of Challenger.

‘So, will you be coming home then instead?’ The image of his mother fluttered about the computer terminal’s display. He watched intently at the words she signed as he continued to unpack several items from a storage container.

Shaking his head in response, Ezrah placed the personal items aside and manipulated his fingers and hands in such a way as to formulate a response, “No Mom, I’m not coming home. I need to stay on board for a little while longer… at least until the Command Council figures out what they’re going to be doing with the Challenger.” He spoke these words as well. His mother wasn’t remotely deaf, but had been born completely mute; sign language had been used within the close-knit family since before Ezrah could remember. Ezrah had, in fact, learned how to sign before ever being able to utter a coherent word; in retrospect, sometimes speaking out loud was more foreign to him.

He hated to see the expression of disappointment that has washed across her face, if there was one thing he disliked the most, it was causing any semblance of disappointment in either of his parents. Yet, Ezrah knew he didn’t cause nor inflict this emotion; it was merely an aspect of his life that his mother would need to learn to cope with.

‘Okay… will you let your father and I know if and when you might be leaving?’She requested.

“Of course!” He replied simply before snapping the lid onto the storage container, removing the object from the mattress and placing it on the carpeted floor. “I promise. I’m sorry Mom, but I need to go… but I’ll be in touch.” He said finally, glancing towards the digital chronometer recessed into the wall above the door to his personal quarters.

‘I love you very much.’

“I love you too Mom… tell everybody the same for me, too, will you?” He leaned against the metal surface of the desk.

She nodded before kissing the palm of her hand and pressing it against the camera lens. Ezrah did the same before terminating the communications channel. They never said goodbye. Goodbyes were too… permanent.


Her stuff had arrived in a plastic cargo box a week previous, but Major Viktoria Yu had yet to open it, instead it had remained in her office in the depths of Deck F, seal still intact. 

At first her reasons were professional; she had spent most of the time getting to know the nineteen people under her direct command, as well whipping them into shape. Some of the younger privates and corporals had only just left basic and aside from training on Titan, Luna, and Mars colonies, they hadn’t left their home world. She had also been lending a hand to the engineering crew, helping debug some of the code that made up the Challenger state of the art ship software though that was about being helpful, and more about making sure they cleared out of the main computer core faster. She could hear their footfalls right above her head when she was in her office and her special forces training already made her jumpy enough when she could pick up someone coming from behind.

Since the accident however, Yu had kept it unopened more for personal and pragmatic reasons. She wasn’t sure if she would be staying. The captain was dead, which meant the Starfleet would either pick a new captain or promote the First Officer, Lloyd Burton. It was hard enough in the past month to avoid him since he was the Armoury Chief and First Officer, but she had always figured out a way to weasel her way out of it though she was told that it was most likely he would be promoted making a near-impossible task, completely impossible.

She could still remember that fateful day last year, when she and her MACOs had accompanied Burton on a relief mission to the misfortune-stricken Denobulan Colony and the further tragedies that had resulted out of it. Between those lost on that day, and the recent loss of Rossi and Karim, it seemed like her old comrade’s recent life had been tragedy after tragedy and he didn’t need a reminder of that serving under him.

As she leaned back in her chair with a status report of the MACO equipment being sent in by Quartermaster Chief Singh, when the door to her office beeped. Yu placed the report down on the desk and walked over to the door and pressed the open button on the panel to the side.

With a whoosh, the door opened to reveal her first sergeant, Staff Sergeant Rupesh Iyer in gym clothes with sweat still on his brow. “Sergeant Iyer, can I help you?”

“No, Major Yu.” The Pakistani-born sergeant said. “I am here to inform you of what I just overheard during my physical training in the gym. It’s the ship’s business, not rumour or gossip, I assure you.”

“Staff Sergeant Rupesh Iyer, always the recon man.” The Major said as she stepped out of the doorway and gestured to a nearby chair, before returning her own by the desk. “Come on in and make your report.”

“Yes, Major.” Iyer sat down and adjusted his brown uniform undershirt. “Roughly an hour ago, First Officer Lloyd Burton received a visit from the top brass from Starfleet Command. I was able to make out most of the conversation. He’s been promoted and is now Captain of the Challenger. Admiral Gardner is going to announce it to the crew in a moment, but I thought you would like to know in advance.”

“You definitely keep an ear to the ground, Sergeant.” Major Yu replied as she leaned back in her chair, momentarily lost in thought. “Are we still on schedule for the Challenger’s launch date?”

“As far as I can tell ma’am, yes.” Sergeant Iyer answered.

“Good. I need to take a brief trip off ship. Have the teams run through CQB drill sets during alpha shift, then go through theoretical tactical scenarios in the training room.”

“Aye Major!” Iyer said with a salute after quickly sitting up. “Will that be all?”

“Yes, thank you Staff Sergeant. Dismissed.”

After he left with a respectful nod, Yu hit the comm button. “Shuttlebay, this is Major Yu…I need to take a little trip.”


Wednesday, February 5th, 2155

Red Oak, Texas, United States of America, Earth

The alarm bleeped and blasted its way to shatter the peaceful silence of the cosy bedroom, only to be smacked into silence by a flailing hand a few seconds later. There were a few moments of quiet before a groan of an unhappy mutter rumbled around the room, and slowly one of the figures in bed sat up.

“Dawn already?” he grumbled.

The shape next to him made a small sound of protest, rolling over and wrapping themselves around him. “S’not. It’s a trick.”

He glanced down ruefully. “Afraid it’s not, sweetheart. I gotta get up.”

Warm hands played across his back, and his rueful expression turned to a twist of a slow smile. “Not yet for…”

“Roger’s pickin’ me up for a ride to the shuttle station,” he said with regret, and slid out of bed, feet stomping on the bare floorboards. “At oh-seven-hundred. I better not keep him waitin’, I know he’s got a lot to do in town.”

Another grumble of protest. “John Callahan, you always know how to ruin my fun.”

“Now that,” he said, padding back across the bed towards his wife and bending to kiss her on the forehead. “Is just downright untrue.”

He didn’t wait for a response as he ambled about the well-furnished, cosy master bedroom at the top and front of the spacious ranch house. There wasn’t much to do; he had fastidiously packed the night before, and left out a tidy and folded uniform ready for the long day ahead. He didn’t want to waste time in the morning before leaving. Didn’t want to linger.

“It’s so soon,” Laura Callahan said with a sigh, watching him. “You only heard yesterday…”

“An’ it’s an emergency,” John said, keen to avoid a repeat of the conversation, even as he felt a pang of guilt at cutting his wife off.

“An emergency that changes everything. Who do they think they are, pulling you away for months at a time with barely twenty-four hours’ notice?”

As she sat up, he returned to her side and caught a hand, waving in the air in irritable gesticulation, and lifted it to his lips. “Starfleet,” he said sadly. “An’ I swore an oath. Where’re the kids?”

“What am I, psychic?” Laura asked tensely, before giving a twist of a smile. “I heard them on the stairs about half an hour ago. They should be up. I didn’t want to wake you. Go say goodbye, I’ll be down in a minute and we’ll have breakfast before we go.”

He left the room with guilty relief, straightening and adjusting his uniform on his way down the stairs, and braced himself for a whole new world of accusation and regret. So he gave a small sigh at the reprieve that greeted him at the kitchen table, a glass of juice and a book by its side, the member of the family most likely to take everything in stride and not make him feel like a dog slinking off with his tail between his legs.

“Mornin’, Lizzy,” he greeted his daughter, sauntering over to the high kitchen table and drawing up a stool. “You’re up awful earlier than I figured.”

“Morning, Pa.” Ten year-old Lizzy slid off her stool with a smile and wandered over to wrap an arm around him. “I wanted to be up to see you go.”

“What’re you reading?” He reached for the book and grinned. “‘Charlotte’s Web’? Didn’t I read that to you when you were little?” Were little? When’d she stop being ‘little’?

Lizzy took it back a bit defensively. “I like it.”

“Hey, I’m just glad you’re readin’,” John said, kissing his daughter on the top of the head and letting her go. “Keep it up. Speakin’ of which, where’s Johnny?”

She made a face. “Speaking of reading made you ask for Johnny?”

“Books make me think of Junior, in that he’ll never touch them. He out back?” John got to his feet.

“He’s getting the stalls ready for the day.” Lizzy sniffed a little derisively, going back to her stool.

“Ma’ll be down to sort out breakfast in a minute,” he told her, heading for the back door to the yard.

The yard just outside the ranch house was wide open for work, flanked by the stalls for the animals who’d be used over the day to be brought in. A few nickers from inquisitive horsey heads poking over the doors greeted him, these animals ill or pregnant or just being kept close to hand overnight for some other reason. But the rest were out in the fields, left to roam when they weren’t being tended to or trained. His wife and the staff reared and sold them, usually just solid working animals for the area, though one of their Quarter Horse stallions had produced a rodeo star or two in the past few years.

This time of year the chill hit him in the face, not biting but certainly not the balmy warmth of summer, and he noted that his son – raking straw out of the way in the yard – had been smarter than him, and slipped on a jacket. The back door squeaked with a need of oil, and it was impossible his arrival hadn’t been noticed, but still the boy didn’t look up.

“Breakfast’ll be soon,” he said, standing on the porch and folding his arms across his chest. “Then you an’ Ma can go bring them in.”

John Callahan Junior paused and straightened slowly, deliberately. “I figured on that, Pa.”

Carefully, the elder Callahan approached his son, as if any oncoming verbal lashing would be bad enough he’d need to stand some way back. “Just lettin’ you know to finish up.”

“I work here on vacations and weekends all the time. When you’re gone. I don’t need you to tell me how to do this.” Johnny bent over and returned the raking, young features twisted into a scowl.

Callahan shifted his feet. “I’ll be going after breakfast.”

Johnny just grunted in response, and silence hung between the two of them for several long moments. The song of morning birds twittered and echoed across the yard, ethereal and just drawing attention to the tension. “I guess, then, it’ll be down to me an’ Max to bring down that old ash tree.”

“I guess. I reckoned I’d be around for a few weeks more -“

“But you ain’t gonna be.” Johnny straightened and turned. “They call, an’ like that, you gotta go.”

“It’s an emergency,” Callahan said, feeling like he’d had this conversation a hundred times in one day. “It’s an important mission. They wouldn’t call me up so suddenly if it weren’t.”

“Right. Important. Go talk to some folks. Real ‘saving the Earth’ kinda thing,” Johnny said derisively.

“Officers are dead, and they need me to step up to the plate. Nothin’s even confirmed yet-“

“But it will be. You’ll go to San Francisco, then you’ll go to your ship, an’ you won’t be back for months.” When Johnny frowned, Callahan thought he looked rather more like his mother than like himself. Or he was seeing that same pain and reproach in both their eyes, only the boy’s mother did a better job of hiding it. Because she, at least, accepted and understood the situation, even if it hurt.

The boy didn’t want to understand or accept it.

“This is what I do, Junior,” Callahan said, forcing his voice to go flatter, more authoritative. If he couldn’t win the argument, he could at least shut down the accusations.

“Yeah.” Johnny ran his fingers through his hair, and looked up towards the gate out of the yard. “You know, I reckon I’ll go saddle up College Boy an’ make a start on the work. I can have breakfast after.”

“I’ll be gone by-“

“I know.” Johnny glanced back at his father, and his mask of cool detachment only wavered briefly. “You go save the world, Pa. From, I dunno, bickerin’ diplomats or the like. Hey, maybe they’ll name more schools after you than Captain Archer.”

Then he was gone, wandering out through the gate before Callahan could summon the will or the words to stop him, and he was left alone in the yard, resting on the porch railing, brow furrowed. But he didn’t go after the boy, didn’t go to say goodbye properly, didn’t go to correct him or just let bygones be bygones before they were separated for months at a time.

Just turned, and headed back inside where the rattle of breakfast being made greeted him, to spend the last few minutes he had with a fractured family.


Challenger NX-03

Burton’s first day of command so far had gone well. Rear Admiral Gardner had returned to Challenger to carry out the official command appointment ceremony on the bridge. He had then completed an inspection tour with the admiral to determine exactly how far away they were from launching. From Burton’s own estimations the ship would be ready for launch in three days if all went to plan. 

The captain and admiral were now making their way down on E Deck towards the mess hall to grab a late breakfast. Burton led them into the room that was devoid of any one. Eventually they reached their destination in the captain’s dining room. It had been days since he had set foot inside this room and at first he was hesitant in pressing the button and entering it. However he could feel that Gardner was watching him to see if he would falter, so he reached out with his hand and tapped the button to open the door. 

Minutes later the captain was enjoying a mug of tea and some breakfast with his superior officer. Gardner had been waffling on about the latest developments in Atlantis and Discovery’s construction efforts. The latter was to be commanded by a former classmate of his. On some level, Burton was feeling sort of smug that he had beaten him to the centre chair. When Burton had finished a bite from his bacon roll he was caught off guard when Gardner had posed a question towards him.

“So have you decided on any of your senior staff replacements yet?” Gardner asked in between mouth falls.

Placing his mug down on the table, Burton answered. “I’ve shortlisted my chief armoury officer to one name.”

“Whose?” Gardner enquired.

“John Callahan.” Burton responded as he picked up his mug of tea and took another sip. “He was the armoury officer on board the Gemini. His records are exemplary in law enforcement and tactical analysis.”

Gardner chuckled. “That’s high praise coming from a fellow armoury officer. Will you make him your third officer?”

Nodding once the captain answered. “He’s an experienced field officer and Captain Rostami was initially quite adamant that he wasn’t going to lose Callahan.”

Gardner was perplexed on how the young captain had gotten his way in getting Callahan. “How did you convince Daryush to let Callahan go?” He asked, mentioning Rostami by his first name.

Burton put on his slight boyish grin as he retold how he got his new armoury officer. “We had a lengthy discussion on Challenger’s need for having an experienced tactician and security officer in charge of its armoury’s department. Rostami believed that with me in command the need wasn’t great, but when I reminded him of what Captains Archer and Hernandez have reported back since they left space dock in regards to hostile species he finally understood why it would be a good idea to have someone with Callahan’s calibre with me. Plus it turns out he was good friends with Captain Karim, he felt he needed to do something to provide some stability to Challenger.”

“Well it seems your negotiation skills are developing Lloyd.” Gardner stated, amused at the anecdote. “How about getting a new chief engineer, chief medical officer and chief communication officer?”

A slight pain hit Burton in his chest as he remembered what had happened for them three spots to be made empty recently. Lieutenant Commander Caspar Slater, Challenger’s German chief engineer had requested a transfer off Challenger after Rossi’s death. The two of them had been romantically involved and the death of Alec had hit Caspar hard, to the point he was depressed and unfit to be on duty. Lloyd had sympathised with the engineer and had agreed to it, leaving Challenger’s engineering department without a leader.

Lieutenant Calista Moralez had been Challenger’s Spanish chief medical officer, and she too had been a good friend with Captain Karim. In fact the two of them had served together on the Daedalus-class ship Yeager (NCC-76) for years. She had told flat out to Burton that she would feel cheap if she remained on the Challenger and had handed in her resignation, citing she needed time away from Starfleet. Again he had reluctantly accepted the doctor’s decision.

Then that took them to Ensign Mattias Hansson. The young linguist was a nervous man before he joined the ship. How he got through his officer’s training and how Captain Karim convinced him to become Challenger’s chief communication officer bewildered Burton. Within two hours of the shuttlepod accident the Swedish officer had arrived at Burton’s door requesting to return to his previous post at Starfleet Research & Development in Tokyo. He felt that space travel was far too dangerous, and the accident had spooked him enough. He stated he would prefer to remain on Earth and wanted to return to his last job as he felt he would be of more benefit to Starfleet in developing the universal translator. Burton had asked him to reconsider and give it a few more days before he made his final decision. Again Burton was faced with having to deal with another officer resigning if he didn’t accept Hansson’s request. He knew Starfleet couldn’t afford to lose such talented officers, so he once again granted the communication’s officer request to return to his old position. 

Eventually Burton answered the admiral’s question. “I’m still going through the candidates and I’ve asked for references from all of their current commanding officers.”

“And what about an executive officer and chief science officer?” Gardner asked next.

Burton wiped his mouth with the serviette that was sitting on his lap prior to responding. “Captain Hernandez has helped me out with that one. She suggested her current second officer and chief science officer; Nicolette Levesque.”

The admiral appeared stunned by Burton’s reply. “Erika offered her own science officer? Wow, that is impressive. She was reluctant to give Commander Tucker back to Captain Archer last year. What prompted the gesture?”

“She felt that Levesque needed the, excuse the pun, challenge of being the Challenger’s First Officer. Hernandez believed that she would develop here more than on Columbia.” Burton explained before going on, “Plus she said that there was no way she would imagine Captain Archer offering any of his crew, she wanted me to tell you that in hopes of getting brownie points!” He added with a grin.

Gardner chuckled. “I think Hernandez is trying to beat Archer in becoming a Commodore. Well sucking up to the boss isn’t such a bad thing anyway!” He stated before finishing off the scrambled eggs on his plate. “So when do Levesque and Callahan join you?”

“Hopefully later on today if not by tomorrow morning at the latest.” Burton answered as he too finished his breakfast. 

The admiral placed his serviette on his empty plate. “Well thank you for the tour and breakfast captain. I’ve got a meeting with the Foreign Secretary in an hour, but I would like to see you tomorrow afternoon to go over your first set of mission orders.” Gardner said before standing up.

Burton rose as well as a mark of respect for his superior officer. “Of course sir.”

Gardner signalled for him to sit back down. “Finish off your breakfast captain. I’ll see myself out, you’ve got a lot to get done and I can’t have our newest captain going hungry before his ship is launched.”

Smiling in gratitude, Burton spoke up. “Thank you sir.”

Gardner left the room and the moment the doors had closed behind him Lloyd sat back down in his chair, wondering just how busy his day was going to be.


Shuttlepod C-32, Earth Orbit

Ben-Ami’s hands gripped the sides of the shuttlepod’s bucket seats. She disliked flying in small vessels such as the one she was currently in. She had spent a lot of time flying around in space, but she always preferred the larger, more spacious ships to flying tin cans. In the window she could see Challenger looming larger with every passing moment: it held snuggly in the framing of the dry-dock facility. 

The shuttlepod suddenly lurched to the left and Ben-Ami let an obscenity escape her lips, “Harrah!” from the corner of her eye she saw another shuttlepod’s engine section pass-by extremely close.

“Shorry abo’ut dat shir” came the sheepish voice of the young Ensign, his thick Russian accent giving his English pronunciation a heavy feel to it, “En-shine Daff-iss doesh like to play games.” he laughed slightly.

“He won’t like it when he has to clean my vomit from the decking” she said in a controlled tone, loosening her vice-like grip on the chair, “Have you been flying long?”

“Yesh shir, I voss ray-shed on an Eee-See-Shh ship, I voss flying da ship by da time I voss ter-teen.” his voice echoed with pride.

“Oh so about three months then…” came the sardonic reply from Ben-Ami as she pushed herself forward in her chair to get a closer look at the ship. This time yesterday she was preparing herself for a long wait at Starfleet Command until a billet on a ship came up. She had expected to wait six months or so until a NV­-class ship post became available. She was shocked when she had been called into Commander Blakley’s office yesterday morning and informed that due to a change in command of Challenger, the CMO had decided to no longer serve there. While she was sad about the loss of the previous CO over the English Channel, she could not help but feel lucky to get such a plume assignment as a NX ship, let alone the newest one. She had expected to do a few tours on a NV before getting a NX.

“Excush me maarm?”

“Nothing Ensign.” she said with a small smile playing on her lips, now the Challenger was almost touchable. “She’s smaller than I expected” she mused more to herself more than the pilot. She watched in silence as the pilot set about docking the small shuttlepod with Challenger. She knew they could not use the normal docking area of the NX-class ship as that would be filled with the ship’s own, they were assigned to the port docking hatch. A few seconds later she heard a loud clunk, “What was that?” her voice was raised slightly, the modicum of alarm obvious.

“Ve have docked shir.” Came the Russian’s response as she spun around in his chair to look at Kefira, his face barely containing the smile that was threatening to break out across his lips.

“Thank you Ensign.” she said as she stood up and grabbed her bag and made her way through the airlock. She waited for the familiar hiss, before the door opened to reveal a very busy corridor, as she stepped onto Challenger properly a Petty Officer stepped towards her.

“Welcome to Challenger Lieutenant, I am Petty Officer Williams, do you have your orders?” Came the pleasant voice of the young woman, she was polite, efficient and quite a pretty young woman.

Ben-Ami nodded and took the computer tablet from her bag and handed it to her, “I’m the new saw-bones” she said as the Petty Officer read the tablet, “If you can point me in the way of the sickbay I can get my bearings and head off to meet the boss.”

Petty Officer Williams smiled and handed back the datapad, “If you follow this corridor around, and then it is the third left.”

“Thank you very much.” She replied equally as chirpy, and made her way down the corridor, feeling that as much as she had wanted this assignment, she was not sure if life on a Starship was for her. 

Finally finding sickbay, Ben-Ami walked through the frosted glass doors by playing her hand on an activation panel; she had no idea the logic behind the use of these access panels, since it served no real purpose. Once inside sickbay she looked around, there were three treatment beds, and a central bed that also doubled as the trolley for the full body scanner. There was ample space for storage, but she wasn’t sure how it would handle a major incident, after all the other ships of this class had undergone lots of problems, and four beds didn’t really seem like enough to tend to their needs. Then again the ship only had one Doctor, a few nurses and a few medical assistants. It was hardly the staff and equipment she was used to working at major hospitals. 

She ran her hands over the smooth surfaces, leaned over and opened a cupboard, she placed her bag in it and slammed it shut, “Best go meet the beast then.” she sighed as she took another glance around what was going to become her life.

FOUR

Department of Engineering, Starfleet Training Command, Earth
Wednesday, February 5th, 2155

Lieutenant Commander Michael Stanton was standing at the podium of a medium-sized lecture hall, in front of about a hundred first year cadets. The young professor was wearing the standard dress uniform assigned to professors of Starfleet Training Command, trimmed in red to signify his position as a member of the engineering faculty. Behind him on the electronic boards were an hour’s worth of notes and diagrams detailing the standard operating procedures for Starfleet’s typical Warp 3 engines, which could be found aboard most Earth military and exploration vessels.

“Remember, there will be an exam next class period. Don’t confuse your phase discriminators and your phase motivators!” he said, laughing mostly to himself, as it was only slightly a joke. He brushed a strand of hair off of his forehead, and looked up, wondering why there was still a class in front of him. “Oh, dismissed!” he said, blushing slightly, as he opened his briefcase to return his lecture notes to their proper position.

Stanton pressed a few keys on the podium that blanked the boards and restored the lights to their normal configuration, before heading for the lecture hall’s lower exit. As he started walking down the corridor back towards his office, a low, familiar voice spoke from behind him, causing him to jump nearly a meter for fright.

“That was a good lecture, professor,” the voice said. Stanton turned around and confirmed that it belonged to a portly man of African descent, Commodore Erick Nwakanma, the deputy director of the engineering corps, and a former faculty member of STC. Stanton had met the man several times, but had never really interacted with him very much, so was instantly curious as to the reason for his visit.

“Thank you, sir,” Stanton said, coming to a more respectful pose.

“At ease, professor,” Nwakanma said, grinning widely, as he started walking with him down the hallway, though at a much slower pace than Stanton would have preferred. “I remember hearing that you wanted to get back into space,” the commodore said, in his deep baritone voice.

“Uh, yeah… sir,” Stanton replied. “I’m supposed to join the pre-commissioning unit for the Discovery at the end of the semester,” he added, wondering why the flag officer didn’t already know that if he knew that he had sought a transfer from his current position.

“I want you on Challenger, this afternoon,” Nwakanma said, not seeming to hear Stanton.

“The Challenger? I have two classes between now and then to teach, and Commander Slater is the Chief Engineer,” Stanton replied, a look of confusion coming over his handsome face as they reached his office.

“Commander Slater has transferred off of Challenger, the death of Commander Ross and Captain Karim… He was involved with one of them; can’t remember which… The senior-most engineering officer aboard that ship is now a junior lieutenant, and they need someone up there right now if they’re going to launch on time. It looks bad for the corps if there’s any delay, and you’re one of the only qualified officers to take the position,” Nwakanma said.

“I’m sure there are more qualified people right here in this faculty,” Stanton suggested. “I am the junior-most professor here, after all, sir.”

“You’re the only professor who’s actually ran his own engine room in the last decade, though. We need you on that ship. Your shuttle leaves in two hours, and you had better be on it, Commander,” Nwakanma said, definitively. 

Stanton noticed very clearly the shift from “Professor” to “Commander.”

“Aye, sir,” Stanton said, resigned to his new assignment. He wasn’t completely sad about the chance to work on an NX-class starship, but he did not like the idea of abandoning his duties at STC nor did he like only having two hours to get his affairs in order before leaving. “Will this be a permanent assignment?”

“That will be up to Captain Burton; I can’t just assign you to the ship’s staff directly, but I doubt that he would send you away while the Challenger is still docked,” Nwakanma said.

“So it may be a little awkward for me, then,” Stanton mused aloud, knowing that most everything was awkward for him. “Especially if he’s already found a higher-ranking engineer.”

“I thought of that, too. You were going to be promoted for your duties aboard the Discovery, anyway, so I’ve decided to increase your rank to Commander, effective immediately. There’s usually a ceremony, but I really have to get back to headquarters and you have to pack. Congratulations, Commander… and make sure that ship launches on time,” Nwakanma said, before reaching into his pocket and handing over a single solid pip to replace the black pip on Stanton’s uniform. 

“Uh… Thanks, sir,’ Stanton said, accepting it, and looking at it for a moment. He was never one that really cared about rank, but it felt a little strange to him to be promoted and to receive new orders in a hallway, rather than somewhere more official; it seemed somewhat shady.

“Do us proud,” the commodore said, before walking down the hall away from Stanton.

Stanton entered his office, and just sat at his desk for a few moments, as he considered what was about to happen to him. He knew he should be packing, but he remained still for several minutes, as he came to terms with his new position. Being able to finish teaching all of his courses was only one reason that he had taken the Discovery; being part of that ship’s commissioning crew meant that he would have several more months on Earth, but the Challenger was almost ready for launch, and if the captain should decide to take him with them, he could be gone for quite a while. As he pondered that, the entrance chime sounded on his door. Looking up, he saw a tall shadow behind the ground glass doors leading into the corridor.

“It’s open,” Stanton said. The door slid open to reveal Lieutenant Commander Alex Rodham, Stanton’s former STC roommate and on-again, off-again romantic companion, who now worked at Starfleet Command supervising the many shuttle pilots assigned there. “Hi…”

“Hi,” Rodham replied, sitting on the edge of Stanton’s desk, as he flashed him the sort of perfect grin that belonged on a pilot’s face. “Would you care to go for some coffee in the commissary?” he asked, while toying with the Newton Cage on the desktop. Stanton’s heart froze a minute; he hadn’t yet considered what shuttling up to the Challenger would mean for their recently on-again relationship, and really did not want to have to tell him.

“Coffee sounds nice.” Stanton said, rising from his desk, and forcing a smile. He allowed himself to be kissed on the cheek, before they left his small office and headed for the officers’ commissary located in the basement of the engineering building. Normally, his inner goofiness and bubbly personality came out around Rodham, but his departure from the planet weighed heavily on his mind. “I have something to tell you…” he started, once they had their coffee, and he began to explain his new role.

“It will be fine, Michael… we both knew this was not going to last forever,” Rodham replied, quietly, as he reached across the table to squeeze his companion’s hand. Their coffee had long been drunk and the empty mugs sat discarded. Stanton had explained the situation, all the while interjecting questions to make sure that Rodham was not upset by the fact that they no longer had their promised six or seven months together, but only about ninety minutes, now.

“I just wish I could have had some more notice. I’ve been studying the plans of Discovery for months now, but I wasn’t expecting to actually be on a ship for a while… and…. yeah, I like you, and stuff,” Stanton said, blushing deeply.

“Well, I like you and stuff, too,” Rodham replied, laughing. “That doesn’t mean you should refuse the transfer. I know you like challenges, and launching a new ship is sure to be a big one. We’ll see each other again,” Rodham replied. “I’ll help you pack,” he added, as they stood up from the table.

Nearly two hours later, an STC shuttle emblazoned with red pennants docked smoothly with Challenger, carrying Stanton and a number of other replacement crewmembers. All the time since he had left the surface, Stanton had had his nose buried in a data tablet, as he reviewed the latest repair reports on the ship and began formulating a plan to get her one-hundred percent ready for launch. The hatch swung open to reveal the ship’s docking bay, and he stepped out first. He set off in the direction of the bridge, deciding that it would not be such a good move on his part simply to move into engineering and take control, as the Commodore had suggested, but rather he should find Captain Burton.


Challenger NX-03

It was hard to believe it had been almost two weeks since she had heard the news about Challenger. At first, she had thought Erika was kidding and didn’t really believe it until she stepped aboard Challenger for the first time. But that was how a lot of her life had been going for the last few days. Even though her visit home had been a blur, she had resisted for so long actually going planet side and visiting her family. Usually it was a giant pain. But for once it was nice, no arguing, no trying to convince her to change her life, it was almost relaxing.

Now here she was, sitting in her new quarters studying the crew manifest. Really, she would have rather been in her lab doing…well just about anything else, but this was important. Before she left Columbia, Erika had sat her down and told her very simply to get to know your crew. That it was the job, the Executive Officer was there for the crew, to make sure they were doing ok. She was their advocate to the Captain, but only if they trusted her. And the easiest way to start off that trust was to know everybody. So, she sat and stared at her computer screen doing her best to match names to faces. 

It may not have been the most enjoyable thing in the world to do, but somehow, she muddled through knowing that everything after this would be much more her speed. Over the next hour Levesque had gone over the crew list twice and was fairly sure she had almost everyone down. Levesque had just finished the Medical Department lists when the door chime went off. 

“Come in.” She said standing to face whoever had saved her from the monotony of more paperwork. As the door to her cabin slipped open Levesque immediately recognized Ensign Martha Habiba, one of her science officers. 

“Commander, we just finished installing the Stellar Mapping Display, and I was wondering if you wanted to be there for the calibration tests?” Habiba asked, standing just inside the door, doing her best to not intrude on her superior. 

“Yeah, sounds like fun.” Levesque said as she headed for the doorway. “So how does the new system look so far?” 

“In short ma’am…amazing! The upgraded design has been based on improvements made to the base system aboard Enterprise and the modifications made to the system aboard Columbia…”

“I’m aware of where the improvements come from Ensign; I did make some of them myself.” Levesque said feigning insult. 

“Oh of course ma’am…I didn’t, I mean I didn’t mean to imply…” Habiba stammered, afraid she had just insulted her new Department Head. 

“At ease Ensign, I’m just having a bit of fun. Please continue.” Levesque said, still laughing to herself a bit.

“Yes um…well, taking the improvements made aboard both previous NX ships we have set up this system to tie directly into the main and navigational sensor arrays. Not only will the helm get real time updated spatial conditions, as we pass through a system, we can create a complete rendering of the space around the ship which we can monitor from the lab and the science station on the bridge.” A now more composed Habiba said with an ear-to-ear grin as she stepped off the lift to B Deck. 

“Excited, Ensign?” Levesque asked. 

“Not at all, ma’am.” Habiba replied good-naturedly. 

“Good, you’re learning.”                 

The Stellar Cartography Lab was probably the largest and most impressive science lab aboard the ship. Once it was up and running it would be the most advanced Stellar Sciences lab aboard any starship in the fleet. Levesque hoped she would have the chance to spend a lot of her time here, an unrealistic hope to be sure but a girl can dream. Levesque thought to herself as she surveyed the room. At least my office is just a hatch away. 

“Very good Ensign,” Levesque said over her shoulder. “Now how about those tests?”


Burton was walking down E deck; in hopes of finding some peace in his new quarters however before he had reached his door, he was stopped by the arrival of his yeoman holding two tablets. 

Crewmember First Class Jamie Harris was an inch smaller than his captain however was broader and more muscular. Harris was only twenty-six years old and had dark brown hair that was stylised in a mop top fashion. Since the day Burton had met the young crewmember, he always appeared smart and well presented. This formal appearance worked alongside his work ethos, Jamie took his job seriously and was extremely dedicated to it. Burton had only found Harris once unfocused while on duty and that was the day they were told of Captain Karim’s death. The young enlisted crewmember had been with Captain Karim while she was at Starfleet Operations; the two of them were a strong team. Unlike others who had left Challenger after Karim’s death, Harris had spoken to Burton the next day requesting if he could remain on board Challenger, feeling he had a duty to carry on in Karim’s memory. Since that day Harris had become a source of strength in keeping the ship organised with all the administrative and business matters. When Burton had been promoted to captain, he had asked Harris to stay on as his yeoman, a request that Harris had accepted on the spot without blinking. 

“Jamie, please no more reports for me to read.” Burton begged as he tapped the code sequence to let him enter his private sanctuary. 

Harris smirked at his captain’s remarks. “Sorry sir, but Starfleet needs you to confirm these requisition orders.”

Burton took the tablets from Harris’ hands as he entered his room and gestured for his yeoman to follow him in. “What are they for?”

Harris stood formally just in front of the door as it closed behind him. “One is regarding handheld weapons that you made three weeks ago and the other is for our new shuttlepod.” He answered.

Burton sighed to himself. He had sent in the requisition order for phase pistols to Captain Karim before her death for her to confirm. Obviously, it had been left stuck in the system awaiting her approval. Without bothering to read it (he did write it) he just added his signature to confirm the request. The next one he knew was one he knew would be coming his way since Karim’s death. Challenger had lost Shuttlepod One due to the accident that killed Karim and Rossi. The ship couldn’t launch without two shuttlepods. He quickly skimmed read the report before adding the confirmation. He passed the tablets back to Harris. “Is that all Jamie?” He asked, wanting to take a short break.

“The last of the senior officers have now reported on board sir.” Harris stated. “They wanted to see you to officially report in, but they were made aware of your prior meetings.”

Since Gardner had left this morning, Burton had been stuck in various meetings regarding an assortment of issues that had to be dealt with to ensure the ship would launch on time. He had also finally decided on the replacements for chief engineer and chief medical officer. He had spoken with several high-ranking officers at Starfleet Medical and with the Starfleet Corps of Engineers (SCE.) to see if they were able to get the two officers up on Challenger before lunchtime. He hadn’t been able to confirm if that had been possible but when Harris had remarked on their arrivals, he was highly impressed with how Commodore Erick Nwakanma, the deputy director of SCE, had been able to release Commander Stanton so quickly. He was even stunned with how quickly Lieutenant Ben-Ami had been able to join the ship from the Yorktown

Now Burton had wondered if they understood why they hadn’t been able to meet their new skipper straight away, which was normally expected. Burton still needed to assign a new chief communications officer, a task he was still working on. “Okay give me half an hour and have Commanders Levesque and Stanton join me for lunch in my dining hall, tell Chef Lawson to put out something light for us all. I’ll then see both Lieutenant Commander Callahan and Major Yu in the armoury, while there we can go discuss the security arrangements for the ship. After that I’ll meet with Doctor Ben-Ami in sickbay, I’m sure she’ll have a lot of unpacking to do with the medical equipment that is still sitting in cargo bay one, so I’ll lend a hand. Finally let Ensign Alcott know I need a pilot to accompany me down to Starfleet Headquarters this evening. He can have the pleasure of my company then.”

“Very good sir, I’ll inform them of your schedule.” Harris said as he made a note of it all on one of his tablets. “Is there anything else I can get you sir?”

Burton shook his head as he sat down. “No Jamie, thank you though. You’ve been extremely helpful today; I really do appreciate your efforts.” 

“Just doing my job sir. I’ll leave you be then.” Harris stated before leaving his captain’s company.

The young captain then fell backwards onto his double bed and closed his eyes slightly after setting an alarm to go off in twenty minutes. A quick power nap may help rid him of this headache that was forming at the front of his head.


Commander Stanton was walking down the corridor in the direction of where he knew that there was a lift; he had studied the blueprints very carefully, but he had never been aboard an NX-class starship before. The ship seemed crowded to him, compared to the wide-open spaces of Starfleet Training Command, and he didn’t really care for it. He manoeuvred his way through the crewmen working on various ship’s systems, aided by the fact that his new rank sent people scattering in a way that his slim, unassuming figure never had before.

The impact of her body into that of another drew Ben-Ami from her deep thoughts, she held a tablet in her hand as she was quickly skimming the medical reports for the crew, “Harrah…” she sighed embarrassingly “I’m sorry. I was light-years away.” she said as she looked directly into the man’s eyes. He was the same height as her, and his tousled hair reminded her of ex-husband. She placed the tablet into one of her trouser leg pockets.

“Oh, uh, it’s probably my fault,” Stanton said, taking a step back to leave a respectful half-meter of space between them. “I’m still getting my space legs,” he added, with a grin.

Ben-Ami smiled, “I am sure I have a drug for that somewhere” she smiled and offered her hand, “Ro-fa Ben-Ami, I’m the ship’s Doctor”

“Michael Stanton I am an engineering professor at STC… well, I think I still am; my assignment here hasn’t been made permanent, yet,” Stanton said, accepting the handshake.

Ben-Ami released his hand and nodded knowingly, “You’re another last-minute addition as well?” she said almost rhetorically, “How long have they had such attractive young Professors at STC? If I’d known that I may have developed a serious interest in warp-field dynamics.”

“Yes, the Corps of Engineers was really scraping the bottom of the barrel to get me here,” Stanton said, laughing a little bit. “I… uh… don’t know about that second thing, though, Doctor,” he added, blushing a little bit. “Warp-field dynamics is interesting in its own right, though.”

“Look he blushes too…you’re too cute” she said smiled at him, “Please call me Ro-fa, I never did get used to the English title Doctor, I still think of myself as Ro-fa” she pulled another tablet from her breast pocket, a schematic of the ship on it, “Was that your main field of study: warp-field dynamics?”

“Actually, my dissertation was on warp field dynamics of warp seven flight patterns, but I teach subspace mechanics and basic engineering,” Stanton replied, still blushing a little bit. “I’m supposed to get the Challenger out of the yard on time. I was supposed to be on Discovery, but things… changed.”

Ben-Ami nodded, and then pointed at her head, “This is me pretending to understand anything you just said” she laughed, “Sorry I am a Psychiatrist and Surgeon, mechanical things are a bit beyond me…now if you have a psychotic Andorian with a broken rib, I’m your woman.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met an Andorian,” Stanton said. “I did take a basic first response, though; I wouldn’t trust myself to do anything more than put a bandage on, though.”

“I’ll leave the engine to you, if you leave the sick people to me” she lifted the tablet, now do you have any idea how to make sense of this thing?” she gestured towards the schematic, “I am looking for the Captain, and I am assuming he might be on the bridge?”

“That would probably be-,” Stanton started, but was interrupted by a communications panel.

“Crewman Harris to Commander Stanton,” a voice said. Stanton pressed the activation button.

“Stanton here,” he said.

“The captain would like to see you in his mess in half an hour, sir,” the yeoman said.

“Okay… I think the doctor wanted to see him, too,” Stanton replied, looking at her.

“He’ll see her in sickbay later, sir,” the voice responded.

“Well that answers that question” she said shutting down the tablet, “I better get my arse into gear and go through the out-dated medicals…” she looked at the Commander, “…with that said, if memory serves…” she pulled the original tablet from her trouser leg pocket, “It’s your lucky day, your last medical for ship-board duty was on the NV-05 Luna….”

“Starfleet Medical must be very efficient; I didn’t even know I was going to be on this ship until a few hours ago, it’s a wonder the records got here,” Stanton said. “Yes, it was.”

“We aim to please” she smiled; “I know you’re busy so we can hold off on the medical until you’ve gotten your work done.” she smiled.

“Most CMOs jump at the chance to inflict a physical on someone; that’s very… nice of you,” Stanton said, looking at her for a moment. “Err…not to say that going to the doctor’s office is unpleasant.”

“I know what you mean, most of them take every opportunity to get people into sickbay…I’ll let you into a little secret, most of them are lonely and only want some company” she laughed deeply, “That and most of my peers have a very strict professional and moral code, they think if an assessment is as much as an hour late it reflects on their professional abilities…I on the other hand feel no such compunctions.”

“I’m not big into deadlines myself, either,” Stanton replied. “That’s why it’s always good to inflate repair estimates,” he added. “That’s a little engineering department secret.”

“Not so much of a secret…do you really think surgery takes thirty-six hours? It just makes us look like miracle workers”

“You’re not exactly a typical doctor, are you?” Stanton asked.

“Oddly enough, sanity is not a requirement to be a Psychiatrist” she laughed, “I’ll let you get on with tinkering with the engines, I am going to tinker with some minds” she patted him on the shoulder, “Go get’em champ.”

“Uh… you, too…slugger,” Stanton said, flinching slightly at the touch, before continuing down the corridor towards the nearest lift so that he could check out engineering before heading to his meeting with the Captain.

Ben-Ami looked on in silence as he walked away, “Slugger…that’s the best he could come up with? He’s really good under pressure.” She made a mental note of his slight flinch at the physical touch; she would have to experiment with that.


The male coupler of the circuitry was pushed into the female receptacle until an audible snap was heard. Located directly to the right of the female receptacle, was a small button that was no larger than the circumference of a very small marble; he depressed this button, watching intently as the clear wiring took on a soft blue illumination. A broad smile of accomplishment turned up either corner of his mouth as he slipped from within the small hatch under the console bench. Standing up, Ezrah tightened the long sleeves to the blue uniform jumper he adorned around his waist. His fingers poised over the controls, he depressed several strings of commands into the interface, watching as the algebraic formulas scrolled across the display. “Nice…” he said aloud to no one in particular.

Initiating the diagnostic program, Ezrah briefly stepped away from the console to stretch both arms. The restrictive confines within the console caused tightness in his shoulder that he attempted to work out by gently probing and massaging at the knot.

“Any luck?” Ensign Angela Hathaway stepped towards the bridge’s forward helm station, curiously glancing down at the display. The fiery red colour of her hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, emphasizing the sharp angle of her cheek and chin bones.

Ezrah grinned, bouncing gently on the ball of his heels as he clapped both hands together and flexed his eyebrows continuously, “hopefully! If this works, the Challenger’s response time to sudden course adjustments and evasive manoeuvres will have increased by at least five, if not ten percent.”

Angie laughed, evidently amused at Ezrah’s enthusiastic response. “Well, aren’t you just tickled pink?” The Scottish drawl of her accent betrayed her heritage. Ever cool, calm and collected, Angie was the Challenger‘s Second Helmsman, serving as the department’s most senior deputy. The other personnel comprising the flight control department were from the enlisted division, men and women selected due to their vast knowledge, experience and expertise pertaining to their respective specialization. Although Angie had only recently arrived on board, like Ezrah, she’d done well to jump right in to help in any way possible.

Ezrah merely shrugged, pleased that Angie had found him to be so amusing. “How’d everything go down in the launch bay?” His tone of voice conveyed genuine interest.

“So far, so good. I’ve personally inspected Shuttlepod Two and have determined it’s in fantastic condition.” She paused, leaning against the helm console as either arm was crossed over her chest. “Considering the Challenger‘s most recent loss, I thought it best to triple-check everything… just to be safe.” Taking a moment, Angie took on an expression of consideration before continuing, “I spoke to Yeoman Harris just before coming up; he assured me that he’d speak to Captain Burton regarding the requisition for a new shuttlepod. Other than that, everything appears to be in tip-top-shape.” She concluded, the French tips of her fingernails clicking against the brushed metal surface of the console.

“Very good… let’s go ahead and start response drills to assess efficiency; I’d like to see how proficient our team operates under a bit of pressure.” Ezrah proposed. Although he wasn’t by any means comfortable in the administrative aspect of his duties quite yet, Ezrah was well aware that he would be judged on his own performance as a leader in how well his team performed; to say he desired the highest level of proficiency was an understatement.

Angie nodded, “you got it, Sir. I’ll get started on that just after lunch. Speaking of which, it’ll take just a little bit longer for that diagnostic to finish up… care to join me for a quick bite?”

Gently pressing a hand against his abdomen, Ezrah hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until Angie’s proposition elicited a grumble from within his stomach. “Yeah, that sounds good.” He replied.

“Well then, shall we?” She gestured toward the aft lift. Before turning to leave, Ezrah affixed the cover back onto the console and secured the station before departing the bridge, close on the heels of Angie. He hadn’t yet had a chance to visit with her on a personal level but had the feeling she was quite the social butterfly. Being a little more introverted himself, Ezrah wondered just how well they’d get along when the boundaries of professional etiquette faltered. In truth, there was only one way to find out; and he was certainly about to.


“No, over a bit…” she said sitting at the desk guiding the crewmen who were moving the large crates of medical supplies into the room, “to the left…the other left…that’s the ticket” she said warmly, as they set the crate down, “Two down, five to go” she said almost sardonically.

“These things are really heavy,” said one of the crewmen, wiping sweat from his brow, “Do you really need all this stuff?”

Kefira nodded, “Uh-huh” she mumbled through her mouthful of chocolate bar, she set it down on the desk, the wrapper folded up so the chocolate did not make contact with the surface, “Of course if you’d rather come down with a deadly alien virus and not have a full lab to deal with it and synthesis a cure…be my guest. No skin off my nose, I am out of practice with palliative care anyway.”

The crewman looked at one another, and grimaced.

“There’s nothing quite like the scent of someone’s organs putrefying while they die a slow and agonising death….”

“Okay, point taken.” said the senior of the two crewmen.

“…it’s an acquired scent, I suggest tiger-balm under the nose for those new to the smells of the human body, but old salts like me can just ignore it. I saw a Vulcan vomit once from such a smell.” she said standing up and moving towards a computer screen, “I have pictures if you want to see it.”

They both gulped, “No, no, you’re alright Doctor – we’d better get the next crate.”

“Good boys” she smiled to herself, “Just move that one a few centimetres to the right for me?”

They looked at one another and then back to her and nodded. She turned away and began unpacking the first crate and putting the supplies away. She was lifting up the microalgae bath when she heard a scream from one of the crewmen. She spun on her heel and moved towards him.

He stood there, his right arm hanging limply at his side. His shoulder joint protruded oddly through his jumpsuit, “Didn’t anyone tell you to lift with your knees?!” she said as she moved closer and took his hand in hers, “Touch you’re left shoulder for me.”

She watched as he struggled to do so, his hand failing to reach it, his face gritted in determination, but it slowly changed to one of pain. “Well that confirms it.” she said more to herself than to the crewman, “Come on, pop onto the slab for me” she said gesturing towards the main bed in the centre of the room.

The crewman did as was asked and looked at Kefira, “What is it Doc?”

“Well, this is serious” she said as she switched on the monitor at the side of the bed and began to record his basic observations, “Well Mister Smith, I think it’s safe to say you’re not pregnant…I’m sorry have you been trying for long?” she laughed again, “It’s just a dislocated shoulder, should have it popped back-in in a jiffy” she said as she walked around the room to a cupboard and pulled out a large metal box. She walked back towards the slab and placed it on the end of the bed, she slowly opened it so the crewman couldn’t see inside. His friend stood at the side of the room, making sure to stay out of her way.

“Lay down for me sweetie will you?” she said absent-mindedly as she fiddled in the box, a few moments later she walked to the head of the slab, she took his hand in hers and pulled it straight, she then proceeded to place her now pink-slipper clad food in his arm-pit.

“What the hell are you doing?” asked the crewman, his voice filled with shock.

“Crewman, believe it or not, those letters after me name on the door -well they will be there later this afternoon – mean I am actually a Doctor. Trust me.” She leant back slightly rotating his hand at the wrist first clockwise, then suddenly she tugged harder and twisted it anti-clockwise. She heard the familiar pop, as his shoulder was realigned, “Better?”

The crewman nodded, “Much Doc, thank you.”

She lowered her food and removed the slipper carefully before putting it back in the box, “Let me get a sling for you.” she said as she slid back into her standard issue black shoe. She returned a few moments later with a sling, she sat the crewman up and set the sling to immobilise his arm for a day or two.

“No lifting for you Mister Smith, you’re on light duties.” 

“What? I have to lump these things by myself now?” asked the other crewman with faux shock in his voice.

While the two men continued with their banter, Kefira selected an appropriate analgesia and filled the injector and grabbed a small pot of the same medication in pill form. “I’m going to give you something for the pain” she said as she placed it to his arm and heard the hiss as she depressed the device. “Take one every four hours for the next two days” she said as she handed him the pill pot, “If you get any side effects come back to see me straight away.”

She helped the crewman from the slab, “Right you better get out of here, Mister Kincaid, I am sure you can find someone else to help you with the crates?”

The uninjured crewman nodded, “Yes Lieutenant.”

“Cracking” she said with a smile, “Get going, I need to fill in the first of what I can predict to be many medical records.” as they reached the door she called out, “And if you tell anyone about the slipper…well let’s just say I know ways that the police will never work out.” she winked at them as they smiled and walked out.


University of Toronto, Toronto, Ontario, Canada

After a ride down in the shuttlecraft and then transportation to the University of the Toronto, Viktoria Lin Yu found herself surrounded by the sites of her childhood, something she hadn’t seen since working as a member of the XenoCrimes unit in the Royal Canadian Mountain Police.

With both of her parents being Professors, Yu had spent much of her early life surrounded by the walls of academia…she had even sat in on lectures her mother and father gave during summer courses. The university was like a second home for Viki, something that she couldn’t help but remind herself as she continued down the familiar hallway tiles towards the professors’ lounge, her parents kept tightly to their schedules and if Viktoria remembered correctly, both would be there now, meeting up after classes.

The door itself was an ancient oak affair, swinging open instead of sliding mechanically like the modern doors used, and it made a creaking sound as Yu opened it, announcing her presence to those behind it…which meant that as the door opened, the Major was greeted almost immediately by a very familiar voice.

“Lin, my darling! You should have called!” Came the voice of an elderly woman with greying blonde hair wearing a mix of business attire and doctoral gear: a white lab coat over a white collared shirt, sleeveless black and gold vest, and slacks, with a pair of old fashioned spectacles over her face, half hidden behind a lock of greying platinum blonde hair that had escaped the bun that kept the rest of it in neatly. “You never were good at giving warnings when you make an entrance.”

“Sorry, mother.” Viktoria responded with a small smile. “Special forces training dies hard I guess…”

“Special forces have nothing to do with, dear.” Doctor Elke Ekkehard-Yu replied with a smirk as she made her way over to her daughter. “Your father is a known menace when it comes to showing up without advanced notice.”

“Speaking of Bà Ba, where is he?”

“I think he is in a late session with his TAs…a guest lecturer on Denobulan phonetics cancelled, so they have to come up with an alternative plan.”

“…that guest lecturer wouldn’t happen to have been an actual Denobulan, would it?” Viki asked with a slight frown forming on her face.

“Yes…a woman who is a noted linguist named Kaex.” The elder woman answered, also mirroring her daughter’s frown. “Given recent events, I think you can understand why she would be hesitant to make an appearance on Earth.”

“Or anywhere in the Sol system for that matter.” The younger woman added. “Terra Prime really screwed up the flow a lot of Starfleet crews had going. Saw it first-hand.”

“I’d imagine such things would be a problem for you and the others in Starfleet.”

“I can’t believe I have to tell this to you again…I’m not in Starfleet, mother.” Viktoria said with her smile returning slightly. “I’m in the Military Assault Command Operations…MACO. Emphasis on military…Starfleet is supposed to be all science and exploration…they just have the most advanced ships so-“

“So, they get forced into the role of a space navy by default.” Came another voice from behind them, this one deep yet eloquent in enunciation of words. “Isn’t that right, my little beautiful jade?”

Viktoria spun around quickly and nearly jumped at the sudden interruption, briefly forgetting whose voice it was…her own fathers. True enough to her mother’s statement, Professor Yu Junji was indeed a master of the surprise entrance like his daughter. 

“Bà Ba!” Viktoria finally exclaimed as she regained enough of her composure to hug her father instead of giving him a roundhouse back-kick to the head.

“Sorry Lin, didn’t mean to startle you.” He said with a smile as he returned the hug.

“A bold-faced lie if I ever heard one.” Elke added with another smirk at her husband. “You enjoy sneaking up on folks…there are some horror stories that your grad students tell.”

“Grad-students need a good scaring every now and then.” Professor Yu stated with a hearty laugh before turning back to his daughter and releasing her. “Now…how about we all go sit down in the couch and you can tell us what brings you back home, eh?”

As they moved to the couch and the Yu family sat down, Viktoria began to explain. “I’ve got myself reassigned recently; it came with the promotion I told you about last month. MACO commander of the Challenger, an NX-class starship.”

“…that wouldn’t happen to have been the same type of ship as the Enterprise would it? The ship involved with all that Xindi and Terra Prime business?” Her mother asked. “The one capable of warp five?”

“Five-point two last time I checked.” Viktoria asked. “Yes, pretty much the same ship type, few minor differences though, last minute upgrades, anyways, it’s a great opportunity and all, but there’s a hitch. The Captain I thought I would serve under was killed in an accident and her replacement is something of a ghost from my past or maybe I’m his ghost in this situation. I’m not sure if I should stick around now, maybe it’s a sign I should quit? Maybe come back and pick up my masters in Xenoanthropology? Or go back to the RCMP? I found out two years ago that they never discharged me properly, so I still hold my old rank.”

“While I am glad to hear about the prospect of you furthering your education and getting out of the dangerous military business,” Elke replied as she got up to retrieve the coffee she had left on the lounge table. “I’m not sure if it would be best for you to turn away from this situation…in the last fifteen years, you’ve worn more uniforms then most folks…rather turbulent career…perhaps you’ve become too comfortable with change…too easy to accept it as an option to sticking something out and dealing with what comes.”

“Forgive me mother, but what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ll try and explain what your mother is getting at.” Junjie stepped in. “She’s not talking about your work itself…getting shot at, catching criminals, or working a computer console, or any of that other stuff you did in the past…that’s all part of the plan after all, all expected.

“It is when there is a real hiccup…something truly unexpected…happens.”

A pause followed her parents’ advice as Viktoria sat in thought leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. Her mind raced over the events of the past fifteen years, and the situations that had surrounded her career in the RCMP, from being a XenoCrimes investigator to the event that had sparked her changing into emergency response work.

“Like Erika…” She finally managed to say. “…maybe you’re right I guess.”

“Personally, I also still think you should come back to academia, but it’s your choice.” Her father stated with a kind smile. “If there is one thing your mother and me have always tried to do as your parents, it’s laying out options for you and letting you make up your own mind in your own time…and then loving you no matter what you chose.”

“Thanks Mom, Dad.” Viktoria said with a small smirk.

“Now, how about you come back to the apartment and stay the night?” Her mother said with a grin as she finished off her coffee. “Your Uncle Bao is going to be coming in tomorrow from Cape Breton with freshly caught halibut. I was going to make up a little bit of my famous beer batter and your father had plans to make some of his addictive fries. Halibut and chips, one of your favourites!”

“That sounds absolutely wonderful,” Viktoria said with a smile. “But I have duty tomorrow and I’ll have to catch the next shuttle back up tonight. I’m not Starfleet after all, they might decide to leave dock without me and that’ll leave a bunch of fresh-faced young privates without someone to teach them how to shoot without hitting the teammate next to them!”

FIVE

Challenger NX-03
Wednesday, February 5th, 2155

The ride up had been bumpy, at best. Leaving the atmosphere was a rocky event at the best of times; unexpected weather patterns had made the shuttle’s route up from San Francisco one to buffet the officers inside around like leaves caught by angry winds. Callahan had kept his grip on the rail by his chair firm, normally inclined to trust the pilot and the ship around him, but it was difficult to be as blasé as usual about shuttle safety. Just as he’d made a hundred and one trips by shuttles over the years, so had likely Captain Karim. And now she was dead.

Not that he could affect his survivability by gripping onto his seat for dear life, but it had been a keen reminder of his own mortality.

That ain’t no way to die. Callahan had never been a lifer, one of those officers he met who inhaled duty and exhaled vacuum. He was prepared to give his life for the service and for his crew; accepted this as being one of the responsibilities and risks of his uniform and wouldn’t shirk from it. But he had met those who would want to die in uniform or accepted the likelihood the service would take them so absolutely that they’d probably find death before they found retirement. He’d pitied them for whatever had made them so devoid of hope; for his part, he wanted to die old and fat in his bed, surrounded by family.

But if he died in the service, he didn’t want it to be in a shuttle, trapped in a tin can shattering open into the vacuum of space, or impacting and crushing up on impact with something bigger than it was. Let it be with a phase pistol in his hand, doing his duty. Let it be to save lives. Let it be with a fighting chance.

These thoughts had kept him occupied all the way to the docking bay, and he could tell his pilot’s thoughts weren’t too far away from his own. The loss of a Starfleet Captain was no minor incident; another officer dying was bad enough, but captains were symbols in and of themselves, especially the captain of an NX-class. This would shake Starfleet to its core; the only way it would be worse would be if it had been Hernandez or Archer.

Callahan’s lips twitched. For a given value of ‘worse’ in Archer’s case. He only mildly berated himself at the treacherous thought. He had no personal problem with Jonathan Archer; he’d not even met the man. But his son had devoured everything about Archer and the Enterprise and their adventures that he could get his hands on, caught up in the excitement in the Xindi Crisis. Even afterwards he’d gone through whatever he could on missions before and after, and his hero-worship of the ‘Man Who Saved Earth’ was almost palpable.

Originally it had made Johnny supportive of his father’s choice to go back into service. But when harsh reality had kicked in and he’d felt his absence, that enthusiasm had faded. It was much easier for Johnny to hero worship Archer, the imaginary hero, and resent his father, the man actually in his life, for doing the exact same thing. Archer’s heroics in space didn’t make Johnny’s life worse. John Callahan’s service in space did take him away from his son.

It wasn’t personal. But it did make Callahan smart a bit when he suffered his son’s resentment one day only to see him consuming books on Jonathan Archer the next.

Don’t linger on it, John. After all, if Archer died, he’d be damn well martyred an’ it’d be a thousand times worse.

The bittersweet resentment at least kept him distracted through the landing procedure, so by the time Callahan had snapped back to reality he was alighting onto the deck of the Challenger. He thanked the slightly nervous pilot for his time, patting the young man on the shoulder, before scrambling out into the launch bay. 

It was a mass of bustling activity, at least for an NX-class; he could not be the only new arrival that morning. For that, he made sure he was off the shuttle with his kit bag quickly, so the pilot could get his ship out of the way and back to Earth. As a late arrival he had no desire to disrupt the comings and goings of the ship. He would need to settle and settle quickly. Callahan had only studied the NX-class in the past from an academic perspective – he appreciated them as ships and professionally needed to be conversant with their capabilities and technology, but he had never served on one before. His notice for this assignment had been so short that he’d had to cram in what reading he could along the way, and a bumpy shuttle ride hadn’t made for good reading.

He was going to have to work hard to catch up.

A young woman was waiting for him as he headed for the stairway out of the launch bay; with a red trim he’d assumed her to be maintenance staff, but she stopped before him and he halted, blinking.

“Commander Callahan?”

“That’s right.” Callahan shifted his duffel bag to another shoulder and extended a hand. “You’re my welcome wagon?”

“Ensign Cortez,” she said with a grin Callahan thought was perhaps a little excessively perky. “Welcome on board the Challenger.”

“Thanks. She’s a big girl, I’ll say that for her.” His gaze swept around the launch bay, and he dug into his bag to pull out a tablet. “I oughta report to the Captain or First Officer.”

“That’s a little tough right now, sir; their schedules are both pretty packed.” She went to lead him on, and he fell into step beside her. “There’s a lot which needs doing. I was directed to help you get settled in until there’s a gap in the Captain’s window.”

“You’re on my Armoury Team?”

“That’s right. I’ve been helping run things smoothly since the accident. Com- Captain Burton had a lot on his plate even before he was formally moved up. But more or less everything’s been ready for departure for a week, so it’s just been, you know, making sure everything keeps on ticking over.”

Callahan looked her up and down, eyebrow quirking. “Helpin’ run things? You can’t be, what, more ‘n five minutes out of Training Command?”

Cortez rolled a shoulder a little defensively. “Five weeks, sir.”

It wasn’t so unusual for bright sparks of up and coming officers to be assigned to high-profile postings that were supposed to have seasoned department heads. Burton, according to his records, knew the NX-class inside-out enough that he could compensate for any inexperience in the Armoury Department, though Callahan assumed he didn’t only have greenhorns under him. He was still going to have to fight hard to show people the ropes when he was learning them himself.

He was going to need a lot of coffee and a lot of time with the NX-class database and history records before he could begin to relax on this assignment. No ship needed an unprepared Armoury Officer, and Challengerneeded one even less with all she had been through without having so much as launched yet.

Not to mention his pride didn’t fancy him being the slowest kid in the class.

“Shall I show you to your quarters so you can settle in, Commander?”

“Show me to my quarters,” said Callahan, with a firm nod. “But then you an’ I are goin’ to go check out the Armoury.”


When Commander Stanton found Engineering, the large manual hatches were standing open to allow the relatively large volume of engineers present on the ship easy access to the compartment. He knew that he only had a short time before he would be required to meet the Captain for lunch, but he wanted to see what he was getting himself into in person, first. He managed to enter the compartment and explore for several minutes without his presence being noted, due to the large number of crewmembers working on various projects. He was in the midst of inspecting the starboard magnetic constrictor, when he heard a quiet gasp from his left-hand side. He turned and saw a young woman of Asian descent in the uniform of a junior Lieutenant in the services branch, who seemed to be just a hair taller than he was.

“Officer on deck!” she said, loudly enough that everyone within a few dozen light-years was likely to have heard it. “Can I help you Commander?” she asked, in a worried tone, as the rest of her colleagues came to attention.

“Uh… Hi… I’m Commander Michael Stanton. I was sent by the Corps of Engineers to take over engineering here,” Stanton said, blinking a little bit before answering, as he tried to figure out why she would be so nervous about his presence. He did sense that she wasn’t entirely happy to see him there. “And you can all go back to what you were doing,” he said, looking around at the men and women who were all looking at him. “Uh… now,” he added, grinning a little bit when no one moved. 

“Welcome aboard, Commander. I’m the Second Engineer, Sakura Masuko,” the lieutenant said, relaxing her posture a little bit. Stanton smiled slightly, as he thought that he could partially explain her apparent aura of disappointment by the fact that she didn’t want to have to turn over control to him. “Do you have any orders?” she asked, politely.

“Not exactly, no. I’m meeting Captain Birch-,” Stanton started, as he surveyed her. She seemed to be almost his age, so he wondered why she only had a pip and a half on her uniform.

“-Burton, sir,” Masuko interjected.

“Fine, whatever,” Stanton said, making a note not to make that mistake, later. “I’d like to get started after that, so I’m going to want to do a run-down of all the ship’s primary and secondary systems, then. You can start working on getting that started, and then we can go check them all,” he finished.

“All of the systems, sir? We’ve been done with the weapons and scientific systems for weeks already,” Masuko replied, looking a bit confused.

“All of them, Ms. Masuko; just because it worked a week ago doesn’t mean that it still works. When we launch, I want to know that everything works perfectly,” Stanton replied. “It’ll be fun,” he added, with a grin.

“Aye, aye, sir,” Masuko replied. “Is there anything else?” she asked.

“Yeah… don’t do that yelling thing again to make them all come to attention; I hate that,” Stanton answered, grinning again. “Other than that, just keep doing what you’ve been doing, and I’m sure we’ll get out on time,” he added, before turning back around to the magnetic constrictor.

“Understood, sir,” Lieutenant Masuko replied, still standing there. Stanton checked over the piece of equipment for a few seconds, though he could still feel her eyes upon him. He turned his head and looked at her quizzically, before he realised that she was still waiting for something.

“Oh… right… Dismissed, Lieutenant. Carry on, and all that,” he said, smiling, before returning to his task. He heard footfalls upon the deck plating that confirmed that she had gone away, shortly after. After checking a few other systems, he headed out of the engineering complex and towards the mess hall. He realised, as he walked, that he’d never been invited to the captain’s table of any ship before. He’d never been a second officer, either, he realised, as he watched the other officers walking, and noticing his rank with polite respect. It was sort of a strange feeling, but not altogether an unwelcome one.


Half an hour later Captain Burton was in his private dining hall, seated at the head of the table. He had only been here this morning having breakfast with Admiral Gardner. Now he would be holding his first casual senior staff meeting. He was sipping on a mug of hot blackcurrant juice, a suggestion from Challenger’s chef to help with his headache that he hadn’t been able to shift for an hour now. The hot beverage was soothing but he knew he would need to go and get some paracetamol from Doctor Ben-Ami later.

While sipping on his drink he was reading over the final list of candidates for chief communications officer. They all had glowing references and great service records. He just wasn’t too sure whom to pick. The door chime went off and he switched off the computer tablet as he spoke up. “Come in.”

The two blue doors that sealed off his dining hall from the rest of the mess hall parted open with a swoosh noise to reveal his two most senior officers. He rose from his chair to greet them. “Commander Levesque,” He said, extending his hand to greet the woman who would be his first officer and chief science officer.

“Captain Burton, it’s good to see you again,” Nicole replied, taking the offered hand firmly in her grasp. “I just wish it were under better circumstances.” She finished before stepping aside to allow Stanton to enter the room.

After letting go of her surprisingly firm handshake the captain shared the same gesture with the man who would be his second officer and chief engineer. “Commander Stanton.” Lloyd said, greeting him.

“Hi… I mean, hello, sir,” Stanton said, somewhat sheepishly, as he accepted the handshake, and then waited for further instructions. It was somewhat evident that he wasn’t used to being in that sort of situation.

Burton indicated for them both to take a seat either side of where he was sitting. “Please take a seat, I hope you’re both hungry.”

“Quite so, I think the last time I ate was about oh-seven-thirty.” Levesque said, taking her own seat.

“I am, sir. The commodore didn’t really give me much time before he sent me up here,” Stanton said, as he sat down.

Once the two officers had sat down Lloyd took his own seat at the head of the table. “Chef Lawson has prepared us a light lunch of potato skins to start off with followed by a chicken Caesar salad. I hope that suits you both? If not, she’s happy to make anything else that you desire.”

“I will survive somehow.” Levesque said, her voice full of mirth.

“I’m not very picky; I’ve been used to food in the STC commons for the past few years, so I can tolerate just about anything,” Stanton replied, smiling.

As soon as they all sat comfortably, two of the ship’s stewards walked in with drinks and went around pouring them all a glass of iced tea. Once they had finished Burton waited for them to leave before continuing to talk. “I appreciate you both reporting on Challenger so promptly. I know your reassignments may have been all done so quickly without you having much time to think about it all, but I need you both here to help with overseeing the last days of launch preparations.”

“Well the Science Department’s pretty much ready…” Levesque started as she squeezed a bit of lemon into her tea. “Commander Rossi did an excellent job getting the facilities and crew assignments in order. We just need to do a few last systems tests and calibrations and we’ll be ready to go in the next couple of days.”

“I’ve had a chance to look over the final construction and repair schedule; I definitely think we’ll be out on time.” Stanton said.

“Excellent, I’ll be meeting with Starfleet Command tonight to receive our first mission orders.” Burton said before finishing his hot drink. “I want to be able to tell them that we’re going to be ready to launch in two days’ time without any more hitches.”

“Aye, we’ll be ready even if Stanton has to get out and push!” Levesque said following her laugh with a sip of her iced tea.

“I’d better hit the gym after I finish the final diagnostics on the impulse drive, then,” the rather skinny engineer responded. “After Enterprise and Columbia, the yard engineers finally figured out how to put these ships together, so I don’t think we’ll have any problems.”

The doors parted again allowing the stewards to return with the first course of their meal. Burton was famished from working all morning so welcomed the arrival of the potato skins. Chef Lawson had prepared them with melted cheddar cheese on top with small slices of bacon and chopped green onion on top of the cheese. A small pot of garlic and herb dip also sat on the dish too.

Once all three officers had their starters before them Lloyd picked up his serviette and placed it on his lap. “Bon appetit!” He said while gesturing for them to tuck in. “So, Commander Levesque tell me how much trouble my brother has got in to over on the Columbia?”

“Oh, it would vary month to month. At times he could be a bit…taxing, but he always kept things light.” Levesque replied before taking a testing bite of the potato skins. Growing up in a restaurant she had been exposed to all kinds of food over her life, but this was something new. After trying her first bite Levesque quickly decided that the garlic dip would definitely go well with the skins and spooned some onto her plate.

Burton smirked at the commander’s words as he finished off what was in his mouth before responding. “Roman did send me a message asking why I didn’t ask him to join Challenger.” He said back. “I told him there was no way the universe is ready for both of us to be serving on the same ship together! Plus, Columbia is only his second assignment; he needs a little bit more experience.”

“Well he’ll get plenty of that aboard Columbia; Captain Hernandez likes to push her crew a bit. I could swear that she and Archer have a running competition of who can make more discoveries.” Levesque said with a smirk.

“Commander Stanton, I was told by Commodore Nwakanma you were to join Discovery’s crew at the end of the academic year?” Burton rhetorically asked the engineer. “I hope your students will forgive me for robbing them of their teacher!”

“My freshmen cadets have an exam tomorrow, so I think they’ll probably be sending me fan mail to keep me from grading it for a few weeks,” Stanton replied, with a smile, as he began to eat his potato skins with his knife and fork.

“Well I know the commodore said to you this might be temporary, but I have to be honest there aren’t that many qualified and experienced officers who could do the job of a chief engineer on board a NX-class ship.” Burton replied as he took another bite from his meal. “I was hoping you would remain on board Challenger in a permanent state. Besides I don’t know many other engineers except for my brother who would do the position justice like you.”

“Are you sure Starfleet sent you the file for the right Michael Stanton?” Stanton joked, in his typically self-deprecating sense of humour. “I’d love to accept the assignment on a permanent basis, and I guess it would be… uh… selfish of me to wish that things hadn’t happened so quickly,” he added, in a quieter tone as he looked back down at his food, realizing that all three of them had their positions because of the accident, though his was less directly related.

Burton nodded at the commander’s words and then decided to pick up his glass of iced tea. “A toast,” He offered them both. “To new challenges.” He said, thinking that the last word seemed justified and relevant to their predicament.


Commander Stanton hummed to himself as he left the captain’s private dining room, on his way to really begin his duties. With only the general destination of Main Engineering in his mind, he set off aft from the mess hall, along the starboard E-deck corridor. On something of a whim, he entered the starboard sensor maintenance station, and logged into the console there. From the small room, he was able to get a picture of all of the ship’s long and close-range sensing equipment. He accessed various diagnostic routines for several minutes, to get a picture of that system’s readiness. He was a sort of absent-minded, laid-back officer, but he was always the sort of engineer who double and triple-checked every system that he was responsible for.

It had been four years since he had been in space, and even then, it was on the NX-class’ smaller, slower, older sister – the NV-class. It was refreshing to be aboard a new ship, where everything just worked perfectly. That is to say, it was nice to have every piece of sensor equipment he could access from that panel working perfectly; he knew that there were still some systems aboard that needed to be checked, and even that needed to be completed, before the ship would be ready to leave port. This wasn’t like the launch of Enterpriseor even Columbia; Starfleet had had quite a long time to get their ship-building process down for the NX-class, and all of the construction had been carefully timed, with allowances for slow-downs, to bring them to their up-coming launch deadline. Stanton was more than a bit apprehensive about being the engineer who would get to finalize those years of planning and of work, but the trust placed in him was gratifying.

As he checked the resolution on the lateral sensors by focusing in on a specific part of the planet’s surface, he also considered the fact that neither he nor the two officers he had met a short time prior were supposed to be aboard Challenger, at least not in their respective positions. They were all very competent officers, but until a day or so before, the command structure of the ship had been quite different. Not only would the senior staff have to get used to that, but the prelaunch crew that had been with the ship now had new expectations and command styles to live up to. Stanton knew that he himself was not a model officer, in the way that he was a model engineer; he expected his crew to self-manage and to perform without his micromanagement, and wasn’t the sort who expected a vast amount of discipline in the workplace, as long as results came in, and as long as safety procedures were followed. He had some ideas of the reputation of his predecessor, but he didn’t know him well and he could have bet that their styles were not identical.

The door hissed open and he turned around to see a very young woman wearing the insignia of an Ensign. Recognition came quickly to him, but he couldn’t exactly place her face or remember the young Hispanic woman’s name, until she spoke, in a soft, mousy sort of voice.

“Professor Stanton?” she asked, seeming confused. Stanton arched an eyebrow to try to figure out which class he had taught that she would remember him from but couldn’t. From the look of her, it was barely believable that she was already at least six months out of the academy.

“Yes?” Stanton replied, before he extended his shoulder enough to see that he was still wearing the golden assignment patch of a Starfleet Training Command faculty member on his duty uniform. “Oh, the uniform,” he muttered, to himself. “I’ve just been appointed as Chief Engineer. Uh… Who are you, Ensign?” he asked, somewhat sheepishly. He appreciated the awkwardness of having forgotten her name, but also hoped that one of the fringe benefits of being a Commander would be some forgiveness for that.

“Ensign Gloria Ramos, sir. I’m the computer engineer here on the Challenger. I was just getting ready to check the linkups from the main computer to the starboard sensor array,” the young woman explained, as the door closed behind her. She seemed rather nervous to be doing that task in the same compartment as the commander, but she moved to access the other console in the room. He wondered how many of the other members of his staff were former students whose names he could or could not remember.

“I was just checking the overall status of our sensors,” Stanton explained, as he tapped away at his command console. He was about to compliment her work, when the communications panel beeped at him.

“Bridge to Commander Stanton. There’s a transmission coming in for you from Starfleet Command, a Lieutenant Commander Rodham,” came the voice of a communications officer who he did not know.

“Have it routed to my quarters,” Stanton said, tapping the communications panel, after glancing over again at the young woman. He logged out of the sensor console, and turned to exit the room, pausing to tell Ensign Ramos, “Keep up the good work, ensign.” As the door closed behind him, he set off down the corridor to cross the deck to his quarters near the forward end of the ship. After navigating the hallways for several minutes, he found himself entering his new quarters. He couldn’t help but have mixed feelings as he stepped inside; though the compartment was more spacious than those most Starfleet vessels had allocated to officer berths; it wasn’t exactly the same as his townhouse in San Francisco. 

He moved through the small foyer and sat down at the work desk that was set against the starboard bulkhead, close to the viewport built into the external wall. The incoming signal light was blinking on his console, so he logged in and had the Challenger emblem replaced first with that of Starfleet Command, and then the face of Alexander Rodham in front of a view of San Francisco Bay.

“It’s about time,” Rodham said, with a pointed glance towards him.

“Sorry. It’s a big ship; I had to walk back to my quarters,” Stanton replied, somewhat sheepishly.

“It’s okay. I’m not doing anything all that important right now. Are you settling in up there, sir?” Rodham asked, his expression turning more and more into a grin. Stanton couldn’t help but smile back, for a number of reasons, the first of which was the fact that he now outranked Rodham.

“Yeah, I just had lunch with the Captain and First Officer… I feel like some sort of big-shot,” Stanton replied, as he toyed with a stylus he found lying on his desk. “I wish you could see Challenger. The engine itself is drool-worthy, but I think we’ve finally figured out how to build these things. It’s nice not to have to guess where things are; it’s laid out exactly the way I would have done it.”

“So, the rest of us would still probably be scratching our heads,” Rodham replied, with a bit of a laugh. Commander Stanton was rather quick on figuring out anything mechanical, so any perfection in the NX-class design was likely to take longer to sink in for non-engineers. “I would have liked the job, but I’ve heard you’ll be treated to the piloting talents of some young gun straight out of training. Plus, they need me down here,” he added, wistfully.

“They probably couldn’t get a single shuttlepod off the ground, without you, Alex,” Stanton teased, as he turned to look out the viewport to watch a passing inspection pod, before turning back to the screen. “Of the two of us, I’ve always thought that you were the one who… you know, needed to be up here. I sort of wish I were the one flying a desk, and not you,” he added.

“‘Sort of,’” Rodham quoted, with a big grin.

“Well, it’s hard to turn down a chance to work on one of the first Warp 5 reactors ever built,” Stanton replied. “Though, it would have been nice to find a way for both of us to stay within at least a few million miles of each other,” he added, more quietly. “Captain Burton has made my assignment here permanent,” he added, after a moment of thought.

“Michael, I knew he would, and you should be happy,” Rodham said, with genuine enthusiasm in his voice.

“I’m happy, but… you know…” Stanton said, mumbling a little, and then faltering for a way to finish his thought.

“It’s not like Challenger will never be back to Earth,” Rodham replied, trying to sound upbeat. “Last time, I know we both had trouble getting used to being on separate ships, but at least now, we won’t both be wandering around the galaxy, so we’ll have more chances to be together, at least for now,” he added. “Last time… it took me like a year to try to move on, and that didn’t last. Dating other people just didn’t feel right.”

“I know the feeling. You’re the only one in the universe who can tolerate my quirks,” Stanton replied, dryly, though there was a definite smile on his lips. “Last time, I almost got thrown out of an airlock for depolarizing one of the magnetic constrictors during routine maintenance, because I was thinking about the way you… well… You,” he added, blushing. “I guess it was naïve to think otherwise.”

“Maybe it was,” Rodham replied. “I know it won’t make you feel any better, but I did have a pretty amazing date planned for you tonight. It involved your favourite little sushi place on Fisherman’s Wharf,” he added, in a more playful tone.

“I estimate at least a forty percent chance that you’re just saying that because you don’t have to take me there, anymore,” Stanton replied, laughing a little bit.

“This time I actually meant it; I was going to suffer through sushi for you,”Rodham said. “It’s actually kind of why I called. I had something to tell you,”he started to continue, before pausing for a moment. “I found out this morning that I’m… on the short list of candidates for the helm officer position aboard Discovery. When you told me about your new job today, I almost told you, but it didn’t seem like the right moment,” he admitted. Stanton’s heart stopped in its rhythm for a split second as he processed that information.

“That’s great, Alex! I can’t imagine anyone else getting that job,” he replied, smiling widely.

“I think it’s some sort of cruel irony, really. This morning, I thought we had a chance of being on the same ship, for once,” Rodham replied, frowning. “The main reason I applied for the position was to be with you.”

“Maybe,” Stanton replied, looking at him. “But you can’t say that getting the chance to sit at the helm of a Warp Five starship wasn’t part of the reason,” he added. 

Rodham shrugged at him.

“Well, Discovery isn’t going to be launched for quite a while. I could still end up there, if Captain Burton doesn’t like me or something…” Stanton replied.

“Yeah, I know… I know… That’s really what I wanted to say, though. I was reading my logs from when I graduated from STC and was settling into life aboard the Neptune… I really can’t see myself reacting any better this time, assuming we decided that we’ll just have to be… on hold, until we’re on the same planet again,” Rodham replied. “I know we’ve already talked about it, but I don’t want to be on hold. Other people can handle being apart, so can’t we?”

“Is that fair to you, though? You’ve got a planet full of opportunities to try to be happy–,” Stanton started.

“- I am happy, though,” Rodham interrupted. “After we had coffee, I was so mad at Starfleet for taking you away, again, but then I realized that it’s just going to keep happening, because we’re both officers. That doesn’t mean we have to just pause our personal lives, though. I hate being away from you, but I’d hate losing you even more,”he added. “And don’t you dare make a joke about me being able to do better,”he added, with a laugh, when he could see a quip forming on Stanton’s face. Stanton smiled back at him but was somewhat surprised by Rodham’s admission; they weren’t normally very open about their feelings, and Rodham was certainly the one who was more reserved, but he had expressed what they were both thinking.

“So, what does this mean?” Stanton asked, smiling at him.

“It means you’re still mine, even if you’re a hundred thousand light-years away,”Rodham replied, simply. “And vice-versa, of course,” he added, with a laugh. “We made a huge mistake last time… it wasn’t very smart to think that we’d be able to move on, just like that,”he said.

“Yeah, not one of our better ideas.”

“We’ll be on the same ship, one day. Or you’ll get tired of re-sequenced proteins and come back to Earth. I just think we need to promise each other that we’re not going to miss one another so much that we’re going to do our jobs badly or not try to make friends,” Rodham said. “Especially that last part… I expect you to have made five new friends by the end of the week, mister!” He added.

“Yes, sir,” Stanton laughed. “You know I was just going to miss you anyway, right?”

“Yeah, and you know I was going to do the same thing,” Rodham replied. “I’m glad I caught you. I’d wanted to tell you that since your shuttlepod left,” he added, in a softer tone of voice. “I should get back to work, though.”

“I should, too. Can I call you tomorrow night?”

“You’d better. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Challenger, out,” Stanton said, before ending the call. He sat in his desk chair for a few minutes, as he processed the conversation that had just occurred. In the grand scheme of things, he would have missed Rodham whether or not they had decided to put their relationship on hold or not, but he felt slightly happier knowing that he didn’t have to go through the uncertainty that came along with the last time they had parted ways. They weren’t married, but the last few years they had spent together on Earth had been very close to that, and even though they had agreed to try to keep their professional lives at the forefront, it had become more and more apparent that neither of them would be happy to sacrifice their relationship on the altar of Starfleet professional advancement. Though, now he had something new to think about — Challenger was his current and pressing concern, but what if Discovery did find herself with a certain handsome Lieutenant Commander at its helm; could Stanton find a way to get himself back aboard? He shook that thought out of his head, as he remembered the promise they had just made, before standing up from the desk, and leaving his quarters. After a few minutes, he found himself back in Main Engineering, at the warp reactor console. He began directing his officers to bring him reports of the primary systems and threw himself into the work of getting Challenger one-hundred percent ready for launch, though with a bit more of a spring in his step than he had had before lunch.


The Challenger‘s mess hall hummed with activity; the numerous tables and couches that lined the elongated length of cabin were mostly occupied with only a few seats left vacant. Under normal circumstances, Ezrah generally took a later lunch when there was much less activity and very few others occupying the mess hall. Today, however, was his first foray into the tangled mess of bodies that moved around animate and inanimate objects alike. Eyes wide and eyebrows rose quite high, Ezrah hesitated following Angie into such close quarters. Noticing this almost immediately, a boisterous laugh escaped the ear to ear grin that beset Angie’s face; she reached out and grabbed hold of Ezrah’s wrist, not-so-gently plunging them both into the chaotic ballet orchestrated before them. A stark contrast to his mortified expression, Angie leapt in as she dragged the two of them towards the food.

The two emerged moments later mostly unscathed with food trays in hand. “Well, that was easy… now, to find a… seat.” Angie stated plainly, yet absentmindedly as her head swivelled from left to right. Ezrah mirrored Angie; from this vantage point, it was difficult to see any of the empty chairs that still may exist. As a couple passed in front of them, Ezrah glanced at a table at the far back right of the mess hall. There appeared to be only one person seated at a table for four.

“There!” Ezrah gestured with his tray towards the table. The pair didn’t waste another second as they twisted this way or that as they descended on the table and its lone occupant.

Falling into one of the chairs, Angie’s tray clattered onto the surface of the table top. “Mind if we join you,” she paused for a second, her eyes locking onto the woman’s rank, “Lieutenant.” She finished. Ezrah remained standing, awaiting the woman’s reply.

Kefira looked up, “Be my guest” she said as she lowered the tablet she had been skimming, and set her fork down on her tray, “What have you been brave enough to try” she asked glancing at their trays, “The salmon is okay, if you have no taste buds.” she smiled, “I’m Ro-fa Ben-Ami”.

“Angela Hathaway, fly-girl extraordinaire. This gorgeous wallflower here…” She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder, gesturing towards Ezrah just before he sat opposite of Ro-fa, “is Ezrah Alcott… ship’s pilot.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Ezrah remarked politely, smiling as he placed the cloth napkin on his lap after tucking the chair close to the table.

“Beef stew?” Angie questioned tartly with a raised eyebrow. “I think.” She stuck the silver soup spoon into the middle of the bowl, nodding with impressed approval as the spoon stood on its own amongst the chucks of beef, carrots, celery and onions. “Thicker than molasses. I haven’t had a stew this gummy since Mamie’s gumbo… it’s sure to be swell.” She finished excitedly before spooning an anxious mouthful. She crossed either leg over the other as she politely chewed her posture to absolute perfection.

Ezrah sipped from the large glass of whole milk after liberally buttering the accompanying roll, “I never much liked salmon… seems sort of flavourless no matter what you do with it.” An avid outdoorsman, Ezrah had been fishing since he had been old enough to hold a fishing-pole, developing a skill for fly-fishing. “Trout though, well, that’s a different story altogether.” He finished, biting at the roll before sprinkling some salt and pepper onto the glossy surface of the beef stew.

“I am not a big fish eater, but nothing else on the menu was kashrut” she said as she lifted up her fork and ate another morsel of the salmon before setting her glass down. She took a sip from her glass of water, she assessed the two young Ensigns in front of her, obviously they were a dynamic duo, one of them forward and approachable, the other more reserved, “So have you two had sex yet?” she asked in a matter of fact way, raising her fork again and eating another morsel of the salmon, “There’s obviously a chemistry between the two of you” she said by way of explanation.

Ezrah sputtered, choking on the mouthful of stew he’d just inadvertently inhaled. His face turned beet-red as he started to cough loudly, drawing the attention of several onlookers as Angie started to gingerly pat his back in a half-hearted attempt to help. She started to laugh as tears started to run down his cheeks, amused and intrigued at such a response to a basic, yet very silly question.

“Now, now… that’s not too difficult a question to answer, Ezrah; come now… no need to be so shy. You don’t need to be going and dying merely at the mention of sexual relations.” Angie stated flatly, yet eloquently. “And to answer your question, no, we’ve not had intimate relations Ms. Ben-Ami. We only just met and besides, wouldn’t that be some breach of professional etiquette?” The latter half of her statement was wondered aloud.

Ezrah’s coughing finally calmed as he sipped from the large glass of milk; the tinge of red in either cheek finally subsided.

“There, now that wasn’t so bad.” Angie breathed before returning her attention to the Lieutenant; content that Ezrah wasn’t going to topple over from embarrassment. “Now, that’s not to say that I certainly wouldn’t give him a test run if he was up for a decent ride. But he seems a bit nervous, being all jittery and whatnot. A handsome devil he is, I’ve the feeling inexperience and boyish innocence are dominant in this one.” She finished speaking of her superior, almost losing it with suppressed laughter at the look of stunned mortification that was evident on Ezrah’s face, yet pleased he’d elected not to consume another spoonful of stew, lest he’d choke to death as a welcomed alternative to the embarrassment felt in their conversation.

In Ezrah’s defence, yes, he was beyond the realm of inexperienced. The only woman he’d become remotely intimate with was his field-training instructor at Starfleet Training Command, Lieutenant Commander Audrey Carlisle. The two had shared a very close relationship, both emotionally and physically. In truth, Audrey had been the only woman he’d ever had such close relations with; she’d been the first woman he’d ever kissed, and she’d been his first in other intimate situations, too. The memory of her caused an uneasy emotional stirring from within, one that nearly burbled over to the surface. Ezrah and Audrey’s parting, the circumstances surrounding this separation, had been a difficult burden to bear and one that he was still trying to cope with. He still genuinely loved and deeply cared for Audrey, but they’re coupling was no more. And so, as he’d been trying so hard to do, he attempted to move on.

“Could we, uhm, please change the subject?” He finally managed after Angie’s last statement.

“See,” Angie replied, “squeamish.”

Kefira smiled as she sipped her glass of water, “And he goes so red when he blushes…which could be indicative of vascular problems, such vasodilation is unusual,” she added wryly, “Although he could just be embarrassed sexy talk.” she winked at him and set her glass down, “So tell me Ensign: a’ta y’hudi?”

Ezrah glanced questioningly from Ben-Ami to Angie, who looked just as confused, both were rather uncertain of what “a’ta y’hudi” meant. “I’m not sure? I suppose not?” He replied cautiously, “Why? Is… ‘a’ta y’hudi’… bad? Is it gross?” He wasn’t sure what it meant and certainly didn’t want to be associated with anything being gross. His pronunciation of the words was far from as fluid as Ben-Ami’s. She spoke them effortlessly; his were muddled together to the point of becoming almost indiscernible.

Kefira looked at him, “I was asking if you were Jewish Ensign” she said, her voice less jovial, “It is just you have a very common Hebrew name, I was just curious…unless you find being part of such an ancient religious and ethnic group is bad or gross…” she lifted her napkin from her lap and patted her lips slightly before folding it and placing it on the side of her tray, “…if you will excuse me, I have duties to attend to.” she added with a slight curt nod of her head as she stood up, making her way from the mess hall.

Ezrah sat in mortified silence, jaw hanging loose. “Oh… my… goodness.” He finally managed, voice cracking halfway through the declaration. How was he supposed to know? He spoke two languages; good English and very bad English… nothing more. He certainly hadn’t made it a habit of keeping a universal translator at the ready in which he could simply whip out whenever he didn’t understand the spoken word; although, at this moment in time, it was sounding like a pretty decent idea. Why would Ben-Ami have assumed he’d know what she was talking about or referring to? In the timespan of no more than ten minutes, he’d almost been stampeded by the lunch rush, was ridiculed about his lack of sexual experience and then he inadvertently discriminated the whole of the Jewish state by using words such as ‘bad’ and ‘gross’; he surmised that he was leaving less than an admirable impression on his fellow peers.

Ezrah scoffed, pushing the tray of food away and slumping down in the chair as either arm was crossed over his chest.

Angie spooned another mouthful of stew into her mouth, seemingly un-phased by Ben-Ami’s abrupt departure. “Little Peach, I think it was something you said.”


It had been a few days since Captain Burton had walked the corridors of F deck, the location of the Challenger’s armouries and all other things security and tactical related. This was the part of the ship that he preferred and was quite envious he wouldn’t be able to spend as much time here as he had originally planned. He was meant to be Challenger’s Chief Armoury Officer not its Captain, but fate had different plans for him.

He entered into the forward port armoury to find Lieutenant Commander John Callahan and Major Viktoria Yu standing in front of the main stack of photonic torpedoes talking in low voice. When Lloyd had opened the door the two of them stopped talking to face him. The two of them appeared so differently from each other. Callahan was taller and broader than Yu; however, she appeared more deadly in the way she stood and held herself.

Lloyd had served with Viktoria previously on the Republic. Seeing her again brought bad memories of the last mission they had shared together, the one where he had lost Ros Noble while they were rescuing Denobulan orphans. Since joining the Challenger, he had yet to run into the M.A.C.O. soldier, which was unusual due to his previous post. He had a feeling she was trying to avoid him although that shouldn’t have been the case. Burton had been the one who had suggested to Captain Karim to get Yu to be transferred to Challenger. With Karim’s death he had yet to speak with the major. It was something he planned to rectify in the coming days. He wanted her to know he still wanted her here on Challenger.

Then there was John Callahan, his replacement and Challenger’s new third officer. Callahan was a year younger than Lloyd and would probably have been a full commander by now if he hadn’t taken his break from the service to be a civilian police officer. Nevertheless, Lloyd was aware of Callahan’s reasons for taking such a position away from Starfleet. His family was important to him and Lloyd had wondered why his new armoury officer agreed to join the crew of the Challenger if he knew his new assignment would take him away from his wife and children. It was a subject he had a feeling would come up as he got to know the man further.

“Commander, Major.” He said greeting them both and making his way over to greet them both with a handshake.

Callahan turned to shift almost immediately into a crisp position of attention. When the captain extended a hand, though, his shoulders relaxed slightly, and he reached out to grasp the other man’s hand. “Sir.”

“Captain.” Yu stated with a small bow before grasping the hand and shaking it with her own brown-leather-like gloved one.

“My apologies for not seeing you both sooner.” He stated. “I know it’s normally customary for senior staff to report to the new commanding officers on their arrivals; however I hope you both can appreciate recent events that have prevented such conduct from happening.”

“That is certainly understandable. Captain Karim and Commander Rossi’s accident were ill timed…at least something positive came out of the tragedy.” Yu replied, trying her best to keep her voice and facial expressions, almost coldly neutral. “Congratulations on your promotion, Captain.”

 “An’ just as you’ve had a lot on your plate with the accident, I reckoned it’d be best with a last-minute assignment like me to get to grips with the ship ASAP,” said Callahan with a wry grimace. “My regrets on the tragedy. I didn’t know neither of them, but Captain Rostami thought highly of the Captain.”

“Thank you.” The captain nodded to their kind words. “Major Yu, I know you met with Captain Karim when you originally joined us. I understand your MACO’s have been helping out other departments in getting the ship up and running since her death. I want to express my sincerest gratitude for your efforts. Please pass them on to the rest of your detachment.” Burton remarked with an assuring smile.

“They’ll be happy to hear that, sir.” The Major responded, letting the coldness break a bit. She still didn’t really know yet how to take the assurances the offered smile granted yet “They were under the impression that I was simply making them do extra training to increase their operational versatility and familiarity with the ship…and they were correct.”

Lloyd smirked at that last comment before he placed his focus on Callahan. “Mister Callahan as you know this was my department you’re taking over from and I want to assure you that before I got this fourth pip in my own judgement the armoury department was almost ready for our launch. I want you to be aware that I truly understand that this is now your area of responsibility and I will leave it down to you to run it in the manner you feel that is appropriate.”

“‘course, sir,” said Callahan, as if he hadn’t considered this even a possible problem. “I imagine it can’t be easy to step away from the department, but I’ll appreciate the benefits of havin’ already had a second pair of eyes sortin’ things out down here.” He gave a wry smile.

Lloyd returned the smile before carrying on with their discussion. “That said I would prefer an update from both of you on the readiness of your departments before I leave to visit Starfleet Command this evening at eighteen hundred hours.” Lloyd commanded as he placed his hands behind his back.

“All twenty members of the M.A.C.O. detachment are accounted for, armed, and ready to carry out your orders, Captain.” The Major responded with a quick salute. “The last of the military gear and equipment arrived this morning and is being stowed away. I’ll have a full training schedule and request for various internal ship operational scenario drills included in the full report.”

Callahan nodded. “Everythin’s five-by-five, Captain. You know the staff an’ equipment are all in place. I’ll be makin’ some adjustments to the duty roster an’ security team make-ups once I’ve had a closer look at the personnel accounts myself, so I’ll be sure to have that an’ the rest for you before you go.”

“Excellent.” Lloyd answered back with. He indicated for them to leave the armoury with left hand pointing towards the door. “Let’s go take a walk and we can discuss security and tactical arrangements for Challenger.”

The three officers departed the armoury and out onto the port side corridor of F deck. The first room they passed was a research lab, which was one of five science labs that existed on the deck. The rest of the science labs inhabited C, E or G decks.

“What are your thoughts on MACO and Starfleet armoury officers working together?” Burton asked, wondering what type of reaction he would get from both officers.

“In my experience, MACOs have specialized small arms and small unit on unit training experience that Starfleet Training Command doesn’t teach your average armoury officer.” Viktoria Yu stated matter of fact before nodding her head to the rather tall Texan. “Likewise, though we MACOs are trained in the basic functions of starship operations, most of us lack the specialized knowledge required for more advanced ship-to-ship engagements, skills your average armoury officer has in abundance.”

 “It’s simply a matter of specialization and the two groups working together to shore each other’s lesser strengths up and ensure the safety of the ship, crew, and the mission. I think we’ve had this discussion before however, back when you were the Armoury Chief, if I recall, sir.”

“The Gemini didn’t have a MACO complement,” said Callahan. “I’ve not worked with a team on board before. But I ain’t foreseein’ it bein’ a problem. Settin’ aside Armoury’s starship combat operations role, we’re here for the defence an’ protection of the ship an’ her crew. MACOs are soldiers. We can talk all we like about soldiers bein’ here for defence – but it’s a case of ‘the best defence is a strong offence’. Our skills an’ focus are different.” He glanced between them. “We are goin’ to have to ensure there’s one clear command voice in combat scenarios between us. Away missions – that’s simple, command authority is assigned in advance dependin’ on the nature of the mission. But, say, if we’re boarded it needs to be clear who’s callin’ the shots in the defence of the ship when we don’t have time to form a committee to assess the threat.”

Callahan gave a lopsided, wry smile. “Obviously, in my estimation, that oughta be Armoury.” He spoke confidently, but self-deprecatingly, too.

Burton stopped in his tracks and turned to look at them both. It was true that in the past both he and Yu had spoken about the involvement of their two departments on the Republic. But he was no longer the Chief Armoury Officer. “If I recall Major, we had quite a few productive discussions on the matter.” He looked at the commander. “I’m in agreement with you both about using each other’s gifts and talents in defence of the ship and crew but Commander Callahan is right, we need to agree on how this is going to work to ensure smooth running. I’m of the belief that all ship security matters come under the authority of the armoury department with the MACOs supporting in whatever way possible.” He gazed to Yu and back to Callahan as he finished. “Does that sit well with you both?”

“It rightly does, sir,” said Callahan. “I assure you both, I grew out of childish fits of findin’ my turf threatened or the like a good while ago. ‘course I’d agree with Armoury managin’ on-board operations – equally, when it comes to some hard hittin’, a well-oiled MACO unit are goin’ to get the job done faster an’ more efficient than anythin’ else out there. It’s the plain an’ simple truth an’ I got no interest in arguin’ with it.”

“Thank you, Commander.” The MACO Major replied with a slight smirking grin. “That’s good to hear…not all armoury chiefs are as welcoming to our presence on-ship.”

“Good.” Lloyd said as he indicated for them to continue with their walk. “I’ve read Captain Archer’s log entries on why he asked for MACOs to be assigned to Enterprisewhich subsequently brought about MACO units being assigned to certain Starfleet ships. He put it as having some extra muscle and firepower on board. He firmly believes that without the MACO involvement with his mission to stop the Xindi attack, he would have failed.” Lloyd paused as they went down the central corridor that would bring them to the briefing room used by both departments. “We can debate the issues from all sides for years to come but for now take it as gospel that I’m in agreement with Captain Archer’s decision in bringing MACOs on board. The one area where MACOs were used extremely successfully was with landing parties. I want it to become standard practice that any landing party departing the ship have at least two MACOs joining them unless I or another member of the senior staff says so.”

Callahan just gave a nod at this, his lips twisting wryly, and he glanced at the MACO.

“Sounds acceptable…though I would ask for a small measure of independence on part of the MACOs when it comes to certain things…” Yu responded with a nod. “For one, I’d like to integrate them as an option for possible damage control. Keeps us from sitting on our camo-covered butts during non-boarding emergencies. We’re all rated for rapid deployment into hazardous areas after all, and most of us have at least basic technical and first aid training, if not full combat engineer or medic certification. Not to mention our evac training for removing wounded or trapped from damaged areas…we could yet be more of an asset in these areas. Other than those thoughts, I think it’s a very thorough system and arrangement, similar to what my more senior personnel and I have become accustomed to during our other Starfleet detached assignments.”

“Call it the security officer within me being over protective.” Lloyd said. “Let’s look at how we can get your people working in emergency situations as well as then major. I would also encourage you both to share training programmes. I want you both to devise a training schedule for the rest of the crew to be involved with too. If there’s something I’ve learnt from reading mission reports from both Enterpriseand Columbiais that the universe is a lot harsher the further you get away from Earth. I want this crew ready to deal with such hostile situations. We have a lot of recent graduates joining us from Starfleet Training Command that are still quite green behind the ears, even with all their training.”

“Best an’ first thing to focus on, then, will be ship-board defence. That way we can get the MACO teams an’ my Armoury boys happy an’ keen to work together for rapid response of any threats which come our way. That can form a firm basis from which we can develop any trainin’ in other areas. As for the rest of the crew, best thing for them to learn is how to defend themselves on-duty. What the best defence points are at and around their station, how to work together within their departments to watch each other’s’ backs. How to keep safe, an’ keep their immediate area secure, until the cavalry come a-running,” said Callahan, frowning as he thought aloud, and he again looked to Yu for her opinion.

“While I question the merits of turning the entire crew into paranoid nervous wrecks, I agree with the Commander.” Yu commented as she met Callahan’s steely Texan gaze. “Even the MACOs working as roving search and destroy teams while the Armoury folks secure key locations against hostile intrusion, the Challenger is pretty big ground to cover and we’d be damn fools to try and cover it all with just the red-bands and brown gloves. Those in the science divisions most of all I think, since a lot of those labs and duty stations aren’t usually considered key positions and wouldn’t normally have regular guards on duty.”

“Besides, I think perhaps running a few scenarios or war games with the crew would be good for all involved.” The Major continued, allowing a thoughtful look to cross her face. “Maybe we can have the armoury team or the MACOs mimic an invading force…tests preparedness and gets some experience with something similar to the real thing, just in case they ever have to deal with the real thing. I do have some training-grade weapons stowed away.”

The captain couldn’t be any happier with both officers, something he showed with his smile. “Well then commander and major from the sounds of it we’ve got ourselves a plan of action. Both of you develop your war games ready for when we leave dry dock.” He ordered. “I’ll expect the outline for it on my desk before we leave.” As they reached the briefing room for the MACO and Armoury department the captain paused to look at them. “In fact, the moment we leave dry-dock, let’s run a few drills first. I want to know what the crew’s response time is when we declare Tactical Alert or if there is an emergency somewhere else on the ship.” He looked to Commander Callahan. “Commander, run it past the rest of the senior staff on what each department could provide as a mock emergency. Something like the warp core close to a breach, or one of the science labs exploding.” Lloyd then tapped the button to the open door to enter the small briefing room and entered after the door had swished open with Yu and Callahan.

SIX

Challenger NX-03
Wednesday, February 5th, 2155

The lift ride to E deck was pretty short from F deck. The moment the lift doors opened Lloyd could hear all sorts of commotion occurring on the busiest deck on Challenger. His trip to sickbay was a simple straight path from the lift he had taken. On his way down he saw several crewmembers walking back and forth with a number of supplies heading to various locations across the desk. 

Eventually the captain reached the misty blue doors that belonged to sickbay. He tapped the side button to open the door and entered as soon it reacted to his touch. Looking around the room, he saw that sickbay’s supplies were being rearranged into their various lockers. 

“Doctor Ben-Ami?” He called out, wondering where his new chief medical officer was. 

Kefira was bend down placing biomimetic sulphate into one of the more secure lockers in sickbay, she did not turn around when she responded, “Just a minute” she said as she locked the substance away and stood up, she turned and saw the man standing in her sickbay, it was obvious from his uniform and rank who he was, “Captain…” she said with a smile as she walked forward and offered him her hand.

“Lloyd Burton, a pleasure to meet you doctor.” He extended his hand to greet the older woman. 

“Kefira Ben-Ami” she said with a smile shaking his hand, she released it gently, “And please call me Ro-fa, I like the Hebrew term as well as the English term Doctor” she continued to smile as she stepped back, “I’m glad to finally meet you.”

“My apologies for not seeing you straight away when you arrived.” Lloyd stated as he stared at the various medical equipment and supplies that were being put away in sickbay.

“No need to apologise Captain, I know you’ve probably been very busy getting your head around the recent promotion, to go from First Officer to Commanding Officer is quite a jump, it’s going to take some getting used to.” she paused, “I am sure there is a lot of extra work you had to do, I am sure there is with any new ship leaving home, but more so for someone who wasn’t originally planned to be at the helm.” she looked around sickbay, “I also wouldn’t mind talking to the previous CMO, half the basic equipment isn’t even here yet.”

“Our previous Chief Medical Officer as you know resigned her commission after Captain Karim’s death. I’m not sure if she’s interested in taking a call.” Lloyd said, wondering how many times he would be mentioning the fact that most of them weren’t supposed to be in the positions they were in now because of Karim’s death. “When I spoke with Rear Admiral Céline Jacques at Starfleet Medical, she said if I wanted someone who was experienced then you’re my best pick after Doctor Moralez. She said she’s never seen someone go through their officer’s training so focussed on doing whatever it took to be an officer.”

Kefira nodded, “No disrespect meant to Starfleet Training Command, but when you’ve gone through IDF training as well as a medical degree, and a few doctorates, the physical and academic challenges of STC aren’t insurmountable, to be honest it was less arduous than I had expected.” she laughed, “And anyway, someone had to show those kids that having to hand in three assignments in a month was not as hard as they thought, try ten a week” she rolled her eyes slightly.

Lloyd smirked at her remarks before he peered into one of the crates at the various medical supplies in it. “Admiral Jacques also said you served in the Interspecies Medical Program. Did you get to spend a lot of time with non-humans?”

“You’ve done your research Captain; I’ll give you that.” she leant against one of the desks and crossed her hands over her ample chest, “I was with IME for three years where I headed up their Psychiatric and Mental Health Division. During my time there I came in contact with fifteen non-terrestrial species, and I was lucky enough to take part in surgery for ten of those species. It was quite the learning experience, and it has helped me improve my own practice when it comes to humans.” she looked at the man, “Officially I am still a member of the IME, although I am hoping serving on a starship will give me a chance to build upon the experiences I had with IME.”

“I’ve dealt with Vulcans, Andorians and in quite a serious manner with the Denobulans. Quite a comforting race are the Denobulans.” He remarked as he tried to forget the memory of Ros’ death while they were trying to save Denobulan orphans. “You didn’t serve long on the Yorktown, did you?”

“I was there for just over a year if you include travelling to Vulcan when I first got assigned there when their previous second medical officer was killed.” she ran her fingers through her hair, “It was a decent ship, but it didn’t go far enough away from Earth for my tastes, if I wanted to deal with basic medical and psychiatric conditions I would have stayed on Earth. Starfleet is meant to explore, and that’s what I want to do.” she smiled, “That and it’s gravity-plating didn’t sit right with me, until the day I left I still couldn’t manage to walk more than thirty metres without feeling slightly nauseous.”

“Well believe me when I said give it a few weeks for you to find your space legs.” Lloyd said with an assuring smile. “Now I came down here for two things. One was to see if you’ve got anything for this headache I’ve had all day and the second is to lend a hand with your unpacking and rearranging.”

“You’re in luck Captain, I have a deal going on. Come in for some painkillers, go away having a full medical work-up.” she smiled almost teasingly, “Pop onto the slab for me” she said gesturing towards the bed.

Lloyd inwardly sighed to himself, knowing he would have to set an example to the rest of the crew about being punctual with their physical. “Fair enough.” He said as he sat on the edge of the main surgery bed. 

Kefira lifted the scanner from the side of the slab and ran it over him, his vital observations were within the normal range, “Well you’re looking quite good. How many hours of sleep are you getting a night?”

Lloyd winced as he thought of his answer. “Before I became captain it was normally about seven hours, since then it’s been between five or six hours.”

“What about meals and drinks?”

The captain smiled at that one. “Regular healthy meals at appropriate times. Chef Lawson has seen to that!”

“Well my dearest Captain, you have what we clinically term a doozie.” she smiled, “That’s medical for a bitch of a tension headache.” she gestured for him to sit up, “I’m going to give you a mild analgesia for now, but I really don’t like using drugs unless I have to, so tonight you will get an early night and at-least seven hours of uninterrupted sleep, and make sure to have something light to eat every four to six hours.”

“Aye ma’am.” He replied with a mock salute. “So which crate can I help you with first?” He asked as he stood up from the bed. 

Kefira shook her head, “Oh no you don’t Captain, I am not having my patients work in sickbay. I can manage this by-myself. You should go take a nap, or at-least have a quiet sit down somewhere while the meds kick in.”

Not needing to make his headache any worse, Lloyd agreed to the Doctor’s advice and left sickbay feeling better than when he had entered it.

Captain Burton had made certain that before he went down to Earth he would have an early dinner. He had a feeling that his meeting with the top brass at Starfleet Command Headquarters could make his return back to the ship later than he hoped for. As such he had shared his dinner with his yeoman, Crewmember Jamie Harris, and the two had a working dinner. It was also the captain’s attempt at trying to get to know the man who would be responsible for all his business matters for the foreseeable future. During their meal, Burton was pleased to discover that his to-do list for all the administrative side of getting the ship ready had shrunk considerably during the day. He only had a handful matters to deal with, one of which was picking the ship’s new chief communications officer. He had a few more applicants to go over before he went to bed. 


Now after a delicious Chinese orientated dinner (which had included sweet and sour chicken with egg fried rice and prawn crackers) created by Chef Lawson, Captain Burton was making his way around E deck towards the launch bay. As he walked into the observation booth of the launch bay he noticed Ensign Ezrah Alcott climbing out the side hatch of Shuttlepod Two. The captain made his way across the gangway above where Alcott was.

Ezrah gracefully swung his lithe body from within the port hatch, the sound of his boots tapping lightly against the metal grate of the boarding egress. The prior twenty-five minutes had been dedicated to working through the mandated pre-flight checks. Under normal circumstances, these checks would generally take anywhere from ten to fifteen minutes at most; however, the recent loss of Karim and Rossi in a shuttlepod accident remained a poignant reminder that a bit more haste and caution could serve to be beneficial. So Ezrah worked slowly, yet efficiently, to ensure that all shuttlepod systems either met or exceeded standard operating levels and safety parameters. 

Ezrah slowly walked around the support craft, running the palm of a hand along the craft’s smooth metal bodes in an attempt to detect any minute imperfections in the hull’s integrity. He loved to feel the cold metal under each fingertip. Unlike many of his counterparts on board, Ezrah had an inherently skilled capability as a support craft pilot. He felt most at home behind the helm of a starship, yet there was something to be said for the swift agility, handling and speed of a small craft. During his midshipman cruise at Starfleet Training Command, Ezrah had worked exclusively with small craft at Starfleet’s cargo and supplies division. He had accumulated a tremendous number of flight hours hauling cargo from one installation to another, both on and off world, most times in a craft no larger than the shuttlepod he was now inspecting.

“Are we ready to go Ensign Alcott?” The captain had called down to Challenger’s young pilot as he leaned over on the handrail.

So engrossed in his inspection, Ezrah hadn’t taken notice of Captain Burton’s arrival; yet, when the tenor of the man’s voice filled the quiet launch bay, Ezrah glanced towards the catwalk above, a broad smile framing perfectly straight and stark white teeth.

He nodded once, the light blue colour in both eyes reflecting the overhead lighting. “Aye, Sir.” He replied simply, finishing the external inspection of the shuttlepod.

Returning to the portside hatch, Ezrah reached just inside of the entrance and removed the light blue field jacket with matching ball cap from where they hung on a metal hook. Slipping either arm into the jackets’ sleeves, Ezrah flipped the collar neatly before adorning the ball cap. The jacket, although made of a lighter weight material, did wonders in regulating a person’s body temperature when on-world and so, had become a standard garment with any landing party. The ball cap, well, that was up to a crewman’s personal preference; Ezrah had grown more accustomed to wearing one during his midshipman cruise, as it was part of the standard uniform while on duty, so adorning one was merely habitual.

Burton returned the smile and made his way over to Crewmember Harris who just entered the launch bay from the same entrance the captain had come through. “Sir.” He said, gaining the captain’s attention as he held up the captain’s field jacket. “You left this in your dining hall.” He said quietly, apparently fearing it may cause embarrassment for the captain. 

“Thank you, Jamie.” Burton replied with a grateful smile as he took the coat and put it on. He was zipping it up as he made his way down the set of stairs that led to the aft hatch of Shuttlepod Two. Ducking his head down to avoid hitting it on the hatch’s door, the captain climbed in to see Alcott already doing up his field jacket as he sat in the pilot’s chair. “Ready to go when you are Ensign.” Burton said as he closed the aft hatch. 

“Beautiful.” Ezrah remarked, pulling up the zip of the jacket to just shy of his Adam’s apple. His fingers flexed and darted across the control panel with a swiftness that further emphasized his comfort in the pilot’s chair. As he manipulated the controls to the craft, a soft hum filled the pilot’s cabin as systems were switched from standby to full power.

Shuttlepod Two came to life as its systems were brought to full operational conditions. Captain Burton had taken the seat behind Alcott’s left shoulder; a place where he could monitor the shuttlepod’s systems and experience first-hand exactly how amazing Alcott was as a pilot. As the ranking officer, it was expected of the captain to make the request for clearance from the bridge. He tapped the keyboard in front of him to open the channel while he could see Alcott warm the engines up.

“Shuttlepod Two to the bridge, requesting clearance to depart from Challengerand dry-dock.” He said down the mic.

The voice of Ensign Habiba, who was currently on duty on the bridge at the science station, spoke up. “Shuttlepod Two you’re cleared to depart.”She said before adding, “safe journey sir.”

Burton appreciated her sentiment, in particular as she was the last officer who spoke with Captain Karim before she and Commander Rossi died on the last shuttlepod to leave Challenger. “Thank you Ensign Habiba, we’ll be back later tonight. Shuttlepod Two out.” Burton replied and looked at his pilot. “Let’s see what this shuttlepod can do then Mister Alcott.”

“Why waste another minute, then?” The question was rhetorical of course. As the shuttlepod was slowly tethered downward, Ezrah rotated either wrist and flexed his fingers on both hands; soft pops and snaps could be heard as a result. It was a morose habit he’d developed, but one that was inherently part of the routine.

Shuttlepod Two was guided out of the launch bay by its tethering arm once the launch doors had opened out. As the impulse engines came to life the retractable wings were automatically deployed and the small craft left the safe harbour of its mother ship.

The shuttlepod shuddered as the tether released. For the briefest of moments, Ezrah could detect the craft’s weightlessness in the vast expanse of space. It sent a visible shiver along the length of his spine, eliciting the softest of giggles as the tickle prickled against his skin. In its briefness, if one had been observing, they’d have noted the reaction; yet it passed just as quickly.

With all systems live, Ezrah made a few slight adjustments to the internal cabin pressure as well as the sensitivity to the inertial dampeners. Depressing the projected course into the computer’s flight plan simulator, Ezrah gently gripped the flight controls to start their smooth descent through Earth’s upper atmosphere.

Burton had remained silent at the start of the journey; he wanted to give Alcott some peace to concentrate on what he was doing. The moment they were away from the ship and making their way across the world towards the North American continent he spoke up. “So Ezrah tell me what do you think of Challenger so far?”

Ezrah’s attention was intent on the various instrument panels, gauges and toggles; paying particularly close attention to that of the in-bound and out-bound craft. “Challenger? Oh, not at all what I was expecting, Sir. Not even in my wildest dreams.” His reply was deceptively articulate. In truth, he was scared out of his freaking mind; he’d be damned, however, if he were going to let onto that, especially with the newly appointed Captain sitting only a foot or two away.

“And yourself, Sir? Unexpected circumstances certainly changed your own perspective, right?” He muddled.

Lloyd hadn’t expected that type of questioning from such a young officer. “You could say that Ensign.” He replied as he watched the sensor readings, checking for any nearby traffic. Luckily though nothing was coming up at the moment as they started their descent into the atmosphere. “Tell me Ezrah, why did you want to join Starfleet?”

“Well, to be completely honest, Starfleet was sort of my back-up plan.” Ezrah replied sheepishly.

Lloyd was pretty much surprised at the ensign’s answer. Ezrah had been Captain Karim’s top choice due to his abilities that he had proven at Starfleet Training Command. “Had you applied elsewhere then?” He asked. 

He nodded to further confirm the statement, “Yes, Sir. I had actually been granted early admission to Julliard’s school of classical dance during junior year of high school. Unfortunately, I only qualified for a few grants or scholarships and my parents couldn’t afford the tuition… so I wasn’t able to continue.” He shrugged; a very minute gesture compared to the passive aggressive mix of emotions that boiled from within. Ezrah had danced for the better part of his life, in fact, since he was old enough to stand and walk. And he was good, damned good; good enough to receive high praise and recognition from several prestigious dance institutions and many of their respective alumni. Unfortunately, his own skill hadn’t been enough to warrant the awarding of a full scholarship, and so, he had to make do with whatever monies that could be graciously be donated by his family and the minimal amount he received through minor scholarships and grants, which, unfortunately, wasn’t much. He’d been wholeheartedly devastated when his Father broached the subject, informing him ever so delicately that dancing with Julliard would no longer be an option. Ezrah’s dream, for at least the time being, had been placed on hold; he hated it, absolutely loathed it… but understood it none-the-less.

“When I realized I wasn’t going to be able to continue with Julliard, I immediately fell back on… Starfleet.” He paused, “it wasn’t because of some perverse need to explore the vast unknown or to make groundbreaking scientific discoveries. Rather, was for something so much simpler.” Ezrah smiled broadly as he made a minor course correction, gently curbing the shuttlepod’s descent as it breached Earth’s stratosphere.

Lloyd couldn’t completely work out exactly where the ensign was going with this. “Which was?” He prompted.

“I get to fly… I get to fly really fast; call it primal, but man wasn’t meant to sit idle… so what better way than to soar through the stars at faster than light speeds.” He paused, glancing back towards Captain Burton, a jovial expression adorning the Ensign’s face, “And hey, the uniforms aren’t so bad, either.”

Lloyd chuckled at the last remark. “Could be worse, we could end up wearing some sort of spandex all in one suit with leather boots!” Lloyd commented on. He looked out at the main port, realising they were breaking through the evening clouds of San Francisco. “Land at the pad behind the Command Centre.” He ordered.

“Aye, aye.” Ezrah replied simply with a swift nod of the head. Fingers danced over the helm controls as he entered the appropriate commands to carry out the Captain’s orders. Deactivating the primary drive system, Ezrah completed the appropriate landing procedures with the use of ventral thrusters. The craft hovered for the briefest of moments until the landing gear extended, allowing the shuttlepod to safely touch down.

The shuttlepod glided over the Golden Gate Bridge and slowly sat down on a large courtyard dedicated to shuttle pods and other vehicles. Burton turned to his pilot. “There’s a great all-night coffee shop nearby Ezrah, called the Night Owl if you want to go and get a drink. I’ll give you a call once I’m done.” The Captain said as he started to take his belt off.

Ezrah nodded, “Thank you, Sir. I hope you have a good meeting.” As the Captain made to disembark, Ezrah remembered something. “Oh wait! Here.” He flipped open one of the forward storage compartments and removed a small clear container. Inside was a bit of fresh fruit such as grapes and sliced apples, as well as a few sesame crackers and chunks of different flavoured cheeses, sharp cheddar, Swiss and pepper-jack. “Just in case; you never know… sometimes these meetings can get a little dull. Or, well, so I’ve heard.” In truth, due to his own inexperience, Ezrah wasn’t completely certain if that was a correct assessment; but he also knew it wasn’t at all fun to be trapped in a long meeting when your stomach was requiring a bit of refuelling.

Burton smiled at the young officer’s considerate act. “Thank you, Ensign. I’ll call you when my meeting is over.” 

Depressurising the cabin, Ezrah released the locking clamps on the port entry hatch before waving off the Captain. Retrieving a communicator from the same forward compartment, Ezrah finished the last remaining post-flight checks required of him before disembarking the craft. The Captain had made a suggestion, and, although he would take him up on such a suggestion, Ezrah had an errand or two to run before grabbing a quick cup of coffee.


Starfleet Command Headquarters, San Francisco, United States of America, North America, Earth

After successfully landing on the pad behind the Command Centre, Captain Burton had left the company of his pilot as he entered the main offices of Starfleet. A slight warm evening breeze met the brief walk, Lloyd wouldn’t expect any less from the great city. As he approached the main entrance to the large building, he had to undergo the routine security checkpoints. The first one was to be scanned and checked over by the guards at the entrance. He then had to register his arrival with a handprint and retinal scan. Once he had been cleared, he entered the main lobby of Starfleet Command Headquarters. The foyer was richly decorated with white and black marble flooring and modern furnishing. He approached the front desk and was informed by the receptionist to head on up to the offices of his superiors with an escort, apparently one of the secretaries.

She had introduced herself as Commander Astley with a warm smile. Lloyd had followed the British middle-aged woman into the lift and was slightly confused when she pressed the button to take them to the tenth floor instead of the eighth, as the eighth floor was where Admiral Gardner’s office was located. He didn’t say anything, and just stood quietly to her side as the lift moved. She was roughly his height, had deep auburn coloured hair that was cut short. She had grey-blue eyes that spoke confidence in her appearance. She wore the standard command-administrative uniform that most people wore if they worked at Starfleet Command; however, her uniform was the female variant. It was a two-piece suit that was the same tone of blue as Lloyd’s jumpsuit uniform. It had the typical yellow-gold trimming on the jacket with her pips sitting under the collar on the right shoulder. 

They arrived within seconds and she walked off the lift and down the corridor. Eventually Lloyd had worked out what was happening, and butterflies appeared in his stomach. The woman was in fact the executive secretary for the Starfleet Commander-in-Chief. The penny had finally dropped on who Astley was. She was the legendary Jane Astley, known as the best administration manager in Starfleet and the chief personal aide to Fleet Admiral Moira Hathaway. Astley, even with the rank of commander, had a higher level of security clearance then most captains and was known to be responsible and a willing confidant to the C-in-C. She was also known for her dry and sharp wit that was complimented with a wicked sense of humour. 

Burton remained at Astley’s side as they walked down the corridor and towards the office of the Starfleet Commander-in-Chief. Astley gestured towards one of the leather sofas in front of her desk. “Please take a seat Captain Burton.” She said kindly before she went towards the door to the admiral’s office. 

Burton sat down as he watched her knock on the door and step into Hathaway’s office. There was a brief conversation between them that sounded like mumbles from where the captain sat. The door opened and Astley stepped out. “The admiral is ready for you, captain.” She said with a genuine warm smile.

“Thank you, commander.” He replied as he stood up, trying to push out the creases in his uniform.

He pushed the door and entered another lavishly modern decorated room. The room had an entire wall that was just a series of tall bay windows that looked out on to the city of San Francisco. The room was warm and filled with various items that gave it a personal touch. Sat behind her extravagant glass desk was Fleet Admiral Moira Hathaway. She was signing a few pieces of paper before her.

“Sorry captain, give me a moment to finish these reports.” Hathaway remarked as she tried to hurry her efforts up. “Please sit.” She added pointing with her left hand to one of two armchairs that sat in front of her desk.

Fleet Admiral Moira Hathaway was in her mid-seventies, she had tight short silver and white hair and fading blue eyes. She was of medium build and short stature. Like many women of her age she had a number of lines across her face indicating her years of experience. However, they didn’t make her look older than she was, they gave her graceful appearance. She wore the female variant of the admiral’s suit uniform; instead of having a black tie around a white shirt she had a white blouse that was open slightly at the top. 

Moira Hathaway was an accomplished leader, manager, and Starfleet Officer. She radiated stern efficiency and practicality in her approach to her work. A selection committee of the United Earth Government had appointed Hathaway to the top job back when her predecessor stood down in 2141. She had started her career in the United Earth Space Agency, by being the captain of the Emmette, the prototype for the Emmette-class starship, one of Earth’s first early warp-explorers and was a decorated officer. She had risen through the ranks, holding the previous positions of Director of Starfleet Operations before becoming Commander of Starfleet Headquarters. Her appointment to the Commander-in-Chief position was part of the succession plan that had been in place. 

At the present time Lloyd was feeling a sense of pride in being called to her office while on the other hand he was hoping and praying that he didn’t muck this meeting up by saying something stupid in front of such a legend. 

Finally, Hathaway placed the paperwork away into a leather folder and placed it in a black wooden tray on her desk. She leant back in her leather chair and looked at the younger officer before smiling slightly. “It’s funny captain, that since taking over this job I have met with every single captain we’ve promoted before they take their ship out for the first time. I must have met at least twenty by now, your sister included.” She stood up as she went over to a glass cabinet in the corner of the room. “I’ve always believed that to be an effective leader you need to be seen and everyone you lead should know you. Some advice I want you to take on board when you finally sit in the centre seat in two days’ time.” She remarked as she opened the cabinet and took out two small glasses. “Whiskey?” She inquired.

Lloyd nodded. “Please ma’am.”

Hathaway poured out their drinks before adding two bits of ice in each glass. She picked them up and returned them to her desk. “To the Challenger.” She offered after passing Lloyd his glass and raising her glass.

Lloyd raised his glass with hers. “To the Challenger.” He repeated as they both took a sip.

Hathaway sat up in her chair as she placed the glass down. “Admiral Gardner is currently finalising the details for your first mission which gives me the honour of giving you the briefing.”

“I assume this is the same mission Captain Karim had been briefed about before her death?” Lloyd asked as he took another sip from the glass, hoping the liquor would calm his nerves a bit.

The admiral nodded once. “It is. What do you know about the current status of the Coalition of Planet’s Compact?”

Lloyd was puzzled at the question however answered it. “The document that will bind Earth and its Commonwealth in a mutual defence pact with other powers?” He said and received a nod from his superior that he had gotten that right. “It’s pretty much a certain thing to come to fruition by the end of March if all goes to plan. From what I know it’s currently being pushed by Prime Minister Samuels through the United Earth’s House of Parliament. A huge majority of MPs support it and I believe they’ve got backing from the Senate to get it passed there too. I’m sure by the end of the week President Littlejohn will be signing it into law. ”

“Excellent captain, you get a gold star for knowing domestic affairs well. What about foreign affairs though? Are you aware of where it stands with our other potential allies?” Hathaway remarked.

Lloyd cleared his throat before answering. “It’s pretty certain that the Vulcans, Andorians and Tellarites are with us on it, however from what I’ve heard the Draylaxians are still waiting for the Compact to be passed through a sub-committee before going through their legislature body. The Rigelians are still on the fence as are the Denobulans and Coridanites. There’s some concerns around trade routes as well as scientific exchange from what I read.”

“Very good, another gold star sticker for you.” Hathaway said as she took another sip from her glass. “Earth representatives have been working to try and convince those last threes to be more certain if they are in or not. In a joint meeting with the Vulcans, Andorians and Tellarites it’s been decided to send a diplomatic effort to all three nations in hopes of convincing them that signing the Compact will benefit them as much as it will for us.” She leant over and picked up a tablet to pass it to the captain. “Earth has been designated the lead representatives with all three races. As such we are sending teams out to each nation to meet with their leaders using our three NX­-class ships. Captain Archer will be escorting our team to Coridan Prime while Captain Hernandez will be taking a team to the Rigel colonies. You will be taking the Earth representatives to Denobula.”

“Denobula?” Lloyd asked to confirm. Bad memories of being on Denobula a few years ago flooded back for the captain. “How long will these talks take?” He asked next.

“It all depends, but by sending all three of our NX-class ships to help the diplomatic teams in their attempts to convince these worlds to sign the charter, I’m hoping it will convince everyone how serious we take it. And that’s not the only reason.” Hathaway said. “The purpose of why Earth was picked to be the lead delegate is due to the fact the Vulcans, Andorians and Tellarites believe we are the only neutral species. We haven’t had any difficulties to date with the other three races. However, to ensure everyone is content with proceedings; Enterprise, Columbia and Challenger will be joined by Vulcan, Andorian and Tellarite ships who will have their own official representatives on board too.”

“Sounds crowded.” Burton responded quietly as he tried to skim read over the contents on the tablet in his hand now. “Who’s the lead delegate for the team assigned to Challenger?”

“Foreign Secretary Madilyn Campbell.” Hathaway replied. “She was the former Earth Ambassador to the Denobulans and if there’s anyone we are confident at being able to convince the Denobulans then its Secretary Campbell. You’ll need to extend all the appropriate needs and expectations for someone of Campbell’s authority and support her where necessary. Your service record is an excellent one and you should be proud of how well you’re spoken of by members of the Command Council, so I feel confident you’re the right person for the job. We need to ensure all three summits are successful captain. Am I clear?”

Lloyd nodded, knowing how serious this was all becoming now. “Understood ma’am.” 

“Excellent, let’s carry on.” Hathaway suggested as she began to reel off the rest of the mission briefing to the young captain.


Nicole slumped back into her bunk relishing in the feel of the soft mattress as it enveloped her body. Since transferring over to Challenger her life had gone from impulse to Warp Seven. Nicole was no stranger to being a department head, having served as Intrepid and later Columbia’s Chief Science Officer for the last few years, but running a single department paled in comparison to overseeing not only her own but every other department aboard ship. But if the way things went today was any indication, things were beginning to look up. Commander Rossi had done an excellent job pulling the Science Department together before he died, so Nicole had very little to worry about in her own section. This also seemed to be a common thread among the other departments aboard ship. The only immediate issue the crew was facing seemed to be the influx and integration of new officers and crew. Luckily that would be solved with time, so Nicole pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind and picked up Captain Proton and the Fish People of Orion III, the newest volume in her ever-growing collection, and started to read. But like every other time she tried to relax today, the comm went off before she got more than a page in.

“Transporter bay to Commander Levesque.” The voice of Ensign Ramya Dey said, more than slightly damaging her calm. Groaning, Nicole stretched up and activated the comm. panel on her end.

“Go ahead.” 

“Sorry to bother you Commander but we’ve run into a slight problem. We were beaming aboard the last of the Bio-Storage units when the transporter seemed to lock up mid-cycle.”

“Have you contacted Commander Stanton?” 

“I thought I would let you know first…you did say to contact you if there were any problems.”

 “Yeah I remember and now I’m starting to regret it…Alright I’m on my way. Contact Stanton and have him meet us there with a repair team in five. Levesque out.” 

Getting out of her nice warm bunk, and as she stared at the crumpled jumpsuit sitting in the middle of her quarters, Nicole briefly debated whether she needed to don her uniform for this most likely minor systems glitch. Finally figuring that this issue would be quickly solved, Nicole instead grabbed a Challengerembroidered zip-up sweater and a pair of running pants. Nicole had always been slightly ambiguous about the reasoning behind somewhat form fitting nature of Starfleet’s PT gear, but she had always chalked it up to some deal about “enhancing performance”. Regardless, the gear was rather flattering on her, so she dismissed her personal opinions about the garment’s practicality. 

Commander Stanton had been availing himself of a late dinner in the mess hall, when the call came in, having spent the majority of the past nine hours checking systems aboard Challenger. Indeed, he had not even found the time to exchange his duty jumpsuit bearing the STC logo for one with a Challenger patch, as he abandoned his pumpkin pie and walked to Main Engineering. He pulled a pair of engineers off of another task, before climbing up to D Deck and heading to the transporter area behind engineering.

Arriving on D deck it only took about a minute for Nicole to jog down the starboard side corridor and reach the transporter bay. Squeezing by a few crewmen carrying supply crates, Nicole came upon Ramya and a crewman wearing service red, whom she assumed was the transporter chief on duty. It was a comical sight to see the petite Indian woman talking “up” to the chief who had to be at least six feet tall. Nicole could tell from the way she was gesturing wildly that the stress of the last couple of days was starting to affect Ramya’s near constant perkiness. Noticing her superior officer, Ramya walked over to Nicole with an apologetic look on her frazzled features. 

“Sorry about this Nic…Commander. I’m not sure what happened, we never used to have problems like this aboard Columbia.” The Chief Chemist said shooting the Chief an annoyed look. 

“That’s because this is a completely different system than what’s aboard Columbia.” The Chief said defensively as he joined the two science officers.

“It’s alright chief, just fill me in while we wait for Stanton.” 

“I’m here; you can fill us both in,” Stanton said, as he came around the corner with his two engineers. He moved over to the control console and began to examine things as the operator began to explain the problem.

“Well, sirs, we were beaming up a chemical-storage unit, when the transporter just stopped,” the Chief replied. 

“The transporter pattern cleared the first few stages of the procedure, but it’s now stuck in the pattern buffer,” Stanton said. He turned to explain that to the science officers but closed his mouth when he appeared to realize that there wasn’t really anything else he could add. “This has been working all day, right?”

“Yes, sir,” the chief responded.

“Is there anything special about these bio-transport units, Commander… anything that might interfere with the transporter?” Stanton asked, turning to the science officer.

“I don’t think so. These are standard containment units for biological samples. They can be modified to hold any number of things; from bacteria to small animals. Some do have shielding but…” Nicole trailed off as she grabbed the inventory tablet from on top of the transporter console. 

“Ramya, could the transporter have activated the polarized shielding of one or more of the secure containment units?” Nicole asked, turning to the other woman.

“You think the polarization interfered with the transporter? That seems a bit far-fetched Commander.” Ramya said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“The transporter is designed not to interact with technology like that, but I guess it could have been activated accidentally, somehow,” Stanton replied, thinking about it. “We’ve beamed aboard other energetic objects, though, so I wonder why this would be different.”

“When I was an armoury officer, we found that, when the hull was polarized, the electromagnetic signature would interfere with the enemy’s targeting scanners. Starfleet started to investigate this anomaly but didn’t come up with results and for some reason shelved the research.” 

“What sort of shielding do the crates use, exactly? Are they designed like our hull polarization system?” Stanton asked.

“Well shielding may be the wrong term…but essentially yes, the shielding on several of the secure units is based on the same technology, it’s kind of like a cross between hull polarization and a solid EM-barrier, and that could be what is interfering with the transporter. I’m just not sure how…” 

“The system may have had trouble locking onto part of the shipment, even though it was within the transport area, and it may be having trouble sorting out the matter that it knows about, and the unexpected matter it couldn’t scan,” Stanton postulated, as he pressed a few controls. “The easiest solution would just be to shut the system down, and purge the pattern buffers, but I’m guessing we’ll need animal cages…,” Stanton added, as he worked at the console.

“They would come in handy, that is unless you are volunteering your quarters as a possible stand in?” Nicole asked, not expecting a serious answer… well, more hoping for at least a slightly less than serious answer, something to get a bit more personality past Stanton’s outer shell.

“If we find a space Labrador retriever, maybe,” Stanton replied, as he looked at the console, again. “The bacteria might want something larger than my quarters, though,” he added, looking back at Nicole.

“The bacteria would probably prefer to make the whole ship their home. The crew on the other hand…well I assume they are against that particular idea.” Nicole said before turning away from the transporter. 

“A little bacteria never hurt anyone… Except the ones that have,” Stanton remarked, mostly to himself, as he resumed examining the transporter control console. Transporters, specifically, were not his area of expertise, but he had a familiarity with the system, after teaching basic engineering at the Academy, and having studied the technical manuals thoroughly before boarding. His last space-borne posting lacked that particular piece of equipment. “If we could force the rematerialization sequence…,” he wondered aloud, looking at the transporter operator.

“Ramya, how long would it take for supply to get us another shipment of containment units?” 

“I don’t know…maybe three hours, to get them assembled and aboard ship, but…” Ramya trailed off looking over at the transporter. 

“If we don’t fix the transporter then we’ll be in the same position.” Nicole said, finishing the other woman’s thought. “Okay that settles that. Ramya, contact Starfleet Supply and have them prepare another shipment of containment units. We’ll let them know if it will be transported or shuttled up soon…” 

“Chief…,” Stanton started, looking at the man, before pausing, and attempting to remember his name. He looked vaguely Greek, and he wanted to guess something starting with a K, but he wasn’t entirely sure. Names had never been his strong suit.

“Katsaros, sir,” the chief replied.

“Yes. Good. Try forcing the system into a diagnostic cycle. It should scan the pattern buffers and attempt to rematerialize anything that’s caught there,” Stanton said, after a moment more thought.

“That might work, sir. The system should at least be able to deal with the patterns that it recognizes, there. It might not be able to handle the extra matter in the stream, though,” the olive-skinned chief replied, before working at the console for a few minutes. “Engaging diagnostic cycle,” he said. Several beeps were heard, as the system began checking itself. After a moment, the characteristic whine of the transporter was heard, as several crates were deposited on the pad.

“We’re still missing one, sir,” one of the engineers reminded him.

“Yeah… That’s the white elephant… which isn’t in the room,” Stanton said, to himself, as he looked back down at the console. “We have some matter, but no pattern for it…,” he said, aloud, before having an epiphany. “Commander, have you beamed any more of these things aboard? Any of them exactly like this one that’s missing?” he asked, excitedly. 

“Yeah the Hydroponics lab received nearly identical units. We beamed them aboard about six hours ago…Why what are you getting at?” Nicole asked, crossing her arms across her chest.

“If we have the exact pattern of the unit, and we have the exact mass of the unit in our pattern buffer, we should be able to use that pattern to re-materialize the object. I started… well I almost finished… reading a paper about theoretical applications of transporter technology in fabrication,” the commander said, as he looked at the console. “In theory, it should work,” he added.

“In theory, what’s our margin of error here?” 

“Forty… maybe fifty percent?” Stanton said, though he didn’t sound confident in that estimate. “It’ll… probably work,” he added, in a more reassuring tone.

“Well it’s better than the alternative; make it happen Commander.” Nicole said moving closer to the transporter console. Stanton moved over to allow her access, before turning around to the Chief.

“Go into the transporter lab, and find the log from that transport,” he ordered. The man disappeared into the adjacent laboratory, before returning with a data-card. Stanton placed it in the reading slot of the transporter console, and then began inputting a few commands. “This should work…,” he said, again.

“Let’s go with, ‘will work’.” Nicole said as Stanton and Katsaros began the rematerialization process. Seeing the transporter in operation was always a bit of a treat, its complexities and almost complete disregard for physics was amazing to say the least. Under normal circumstances the operation of the transporter was definitely more art than science, under these circumstances it was more like a magic trick. 

A few moments later the slight whine and blue/white shimmer of the transporter drew her attention to the now solid containment unit sitting on the pad. Pulling a scanner from her sweater pocket she ran it over the container a few times.

“Well so far so good…” Nicole said, standing up still looking at the results on her scanner. “Yeah, looks like it worked.” She finished unable to hide a bit of the surprise in her voice. 

“I’ll have to write my own paper,” Stanton replied, also sounding rather surprised as he powered down the system.

 “Well one ‘crisis’ averted anyway. The next step is figuring out why this happened in the first place.”

“I’d like to tear apart the sensor logs and do a diagnostic on the targeting scanners…,” Stanton listed, looking at the machine.

“Luckily we don’t have to do that now…as long as you can certify the transporter as safe.” Nicole said eager to get back to her quarters.

“Right…,” Stanton said, looking at the console again. “Well, as long as no one has a personal shield on, it shouldn’t create exactly this problem again. I think it would be best if we limited its use on people until we can completely track the error, though,” he added, after a moment of thought. “Chief, in the morning, I want you to do a full diagnostic,” he said, looking at the other engineer.

 “Yes, commander,” the man said, with a nod.

“I agree, unless there is no other option available then the transporter is restricted to non-biological transport. Chief, if my people can be of any help, they are at your disposal. ” Levesque offered.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Well with everything settled here I’ll leave you to it, Commander Stanton, thank you for your assistance…Oh and Commander, I want that uniform squared away by the commissioning ceremony.” Nicole said, pointing to her shoulder, before turning on her heel and disappearing around a corner.

Michael quickly covered his shoulder after blushing. He moved away from the others at warp speed.


The door to the launch bay sealed behind Ezrah as he slowly traversed the length of corridor in the direction of the nearest lift. Shuttlepod Two had returned to the Challenger about forty-five minutes prior and Ezrah had spent the better part of this time completing the post-flight checklist and a final inspection of the shuttlepod. During the flight from and to the Challenger, Ezrah had acutely observed a few irregularities in how the shuttlepod handled during atmospheric descent and ascent. Upon further inspection, he noted that several pieces of equipment integrated into the craft’s propulsion systems were of an older technology grade. Although the equipment wasn’t necessarily in a state of disrepair, its age was proving to be a factor in the craft’s standard flight operation. Piecing together a small inventory, Ezrah ensured that the needed parts and equipment were, indeed, not already in inventory on board the Challenger or at the Warp Five Complex Construction Yards; this meant that his next stop would be engineering to see if he could submit a requisition for the parts to be directly manufactured.

He’d long since stowed his field jacket and hat. During the inspection of the shuttlepod, Ezrah had once again found himself within the tight confines of the console bulkheads. He’d pulled the upper portion of his uniform jumper down, its long sleeves tied around the waist, leaving the black short sleeved undershirt to conform tightly to his upper body. There were a few dark smudges of oil and grease on his forehead and cheek while his hair was a bit more messed up than usual. Tablet in hand, Ezrah had soon arrived at the open berth to main engineering. Stepping over the threshold to the open hatchway, he observed that, even in this late hour, the department was just as busy as ever.

Engineering was in a state of organized chaos, as officers entered and left going to and from various assignments across the ship to check out its main systems for their upcoming launch. In the early days of the ship’s construction, specific system groups had been brought online in a very specific order, but now the engineers were left to check on the backups, certain rogue system elements, and other miscellanea that would make the ship sputter and stay in her moorings, if they weren’t tuned just so. The centre of the organization, or perhaps the chaos, was a young Commander standing on the reactor control platform, where he was accepting and handing out various data tablets, despite the fact that it was far beyond his actual shift. 

“Make sure that the first stage plasma processing plants are checked tonight, so we can move on to the second stage tomorrow,” the commander said, in a rather quiet voice, as he handed a pad back to an Ensign, before turning back towards the reactor control console. There were so many people in the compartment that he failed to notice Ezrah’s presence.

Since his arrival, Ezrah had attempted several times to garner the attention of any passing crewman. Although polite and courteous, each was much too busy to pay him any particular attention. Sighing loudly, Ezrah noticed a man standing on the raised platform near the warp core reactor; he appeared to be issuing orders and handing out data tablet devices to various crewmen who then, in turn, scurried away to carry out said orders. Ezrah was uncertain of who the man was, as he’d yet to get a good look as of yet, but merely assumed him to be the on-duty supervisor. Well, he seems like a proper place to start. He thought inwardly, swelling with a bit of hope.

Navigating towards the raised platform with some difficulty, Ezrah attempted to speak above the hum of activity and conversation around him while trying to stay out of the way of those who were meant to be there. “Excuse me.” He managed somewhat meekly, involuntarily grimacing at how difficult such a simple endeavour was proving to be.

“Pardon me.” A crewman remarked politely with a kind smile as he accidently bumped into Ezrah but carried on none-the-less.

“Sir, may I have a moment?” He attempted once again. The commander spun around and braced himself on the railing behind him as he looked down in Ezrah’s direction.

“Yes…?” Commander Stanton asked, looking him over for some sign of identification to address him, but finding none due to the way he was wearing his uniform coat. He showed some hints of recognition in his facial expression, but not enough to finish his statement.

“Oh… oh no… Professor McSteamy.” These words were expelled with no conscious thought or understanding of recourse. Ezrah hadn’t been in the presence of Professor Michael Stanton, Professor McSteamy for short, since his first year at Starfleet Training Command. He’d taken several introductory courses pertaining to engineering, warp theory and mechanics, each of which had been taught by Stanton. During this first year at the STC, Ezrah had found the process of socializing vehemently difficult and, to be quite honest, tedious; choosing to focus on his studies and excel scholastically rather than flourish socially. He’d immersed himself in the coursework, dedicating every waking moment to fundamentally understand the information he was attempting to absorb. Stanton’s courses were to say the least, exceedingly difficult, proving to be the most challenging prerequisite classes Ezrah would participate in during his time at the STC. One of the perks though, was that Stanton was so damned attractive. Pleasing to the eye, Ezrah often lost himself in Stanton’s lectures; the man was absolutely captivating, not only physically but also intelligence-wise. For Ezrah’s chosen specialty, he’d exhausted every option of attending another one of Stanton’s classes, which was probably for the best, as it helped him to avoid overtly drooling over the man. Well, and this reprieve had provided an opportunity to seek out other avenues for endearment, namely Carlisle.

“I, um, well… Oh my. Just, gah. What are you doing here?” If it was to the point of sounding rude, Ezrah had not intended this. In his own awkwardness, the words flowed like vomit. He couldn’t help it, nor the expression of pained remorse that now washed across the handsome features of his face.

“I, uh… am… warp core,” Stanton started, stuttering a little bit, as he pointed back towards the reactor with his thumb, and as his pale features became noticeably ruddy. “Wait, Professor Mc-What?” he asked, wheels turning in his mind as he tried to catch up with what had just happened. The commander was not the sort who regularly fared very well in social interactions, and that statement had thrown him. “I am… the new Chief Engineer,” he added, after collecting himself for a microsecond. “Ensign…, um…, something with an A. I remember your face,” he said, his blue-grey eyes surveying him for a long moment. “Also, am I overdressed? Does Challenger have casual Wednesdays?” he asked, apparently noticing the younger man’s style of dress.

Ezrah placed the data tablet he’d carried between his knees to hold it there as he hastily undid the sleeves around his waist. Pulling on the upper portion of the jumper, he zipped up as cheeks tinged in deep red. “Apologies, Sir. I… um, forgot.” He managed, retrieving the data tablet. He had forgotten, so preoccupied with the requisition order, he’d not thought to properly zip up. “Chief Engineer? As in, ‘hey look at me I’m Lord of the Warp Core’ kind of Chief Engineer?” Ezrah shook his head, fruitlessly hopeful that he could circumnavigate the Commander’s McSteamy question while attempting to recover from the initial shock at this unexpected reunion. Ezrah didn’t expect that Stanton would remember him, especially after such a long time and with so many students having attended the STC. Ezrah didn’t often leave a lasting impression, proving to be more of a, how did Angie refer to him? Oh right, a wallflower. Ezrah was nobody special, he’d probably never even stuck out amongst the sea of very young and naive faces. Stanton, on the other hand had left a very decent impression; heck, the fantasies alone had been seared into his memory. “Hey now, don’t go there.” Chiding himself, Ezrah hadn’t realized he spoke aloud until he saw the very confused and oddly concerned look on the Commander’s face. “Oh god… kill me now, just… spoon my heart onto a plate.” Ezrah emphasized this statement by theatrically digging at his heart with the data tablet. There was simply no word that could adequately describe the sheer level of embarrassment he now shouldered.

“I…, umm…, Yes, ‘Lord of the Warp Core,’ Computer Core, and pretty much the whole… deal…,” Stanton replied, still surveying him. His eyes darted back to the control console and the communications panel set into it, as though pondering calling for some sort of assistance, before he looked back at the ensign. “Gold uniform, so probably either the helmsman or Captain… A… Alcott. I remember one of your assignments. You must be the ‘young gun straight out of training’ that Alex… Lieutenant Commander Rodham… mentioned who’d be flying this thing,” he added, as the wheels clicked into place. “Do you need a paper bag to blow into or something? Or a glass of water?” he asked, with a noticeable tone of concern.

Ezrah shook his head; glass of water? How about a phase pistol instead? “No Sir, um, just parts. That’s all, only parts… mechanical parts… no biological pa–wait…” Ezrah countered, recoiling in confusion, “‘young gun’?” He asks quizzically, a faint smile curling up either end of his lips.

“I think the Commander may have meant ‘upstart,’ but I never can keep track of what pilots and their egos mean,” Commander Stanton replied. “He supervises all of the pilots operating out of Starfleet Command,” he added, his attention seeming to drift a little as he went on a slight tangent. “You said something about parts… among other things…though?” he asked, the second statement being somewhat under his breath.

“Yes, Commander.” Ezrah handed the data tablet to Stanton, relieved at the change in topic. “I need to do a few upgrades to Shuttlepod Two and need the following list of parts to complete said upgrades. I’ve checked and it doesn’t appear that we have any of those parts on that list on board or at the construction yard. I was hoping y’all might be able to manufacture them for me?”

“When did the captain add this to the pile?” Stanton asked, mostly to himself, as he scrolled through the proffered list. “What’s wrong with the shuttle? The last I read, the engineering team did a full diagnostic on it, after the accident?” he asked, now addressing Ezrah again. 

Ezrah leaned against the raised platform, “diagnostically speaking, the equipment checks out; but when I inspected these components more closely,” he gently tapped a finger against the devices small screen, “I found them to be aged to the point that they’re affecting the overall efficiency pertaining to response manoeuvrability, specifically during atmospheric ascent and descent. I believe there may be a technical communication error between the older components and those of the newer technologies.” He rattled off, eyes intent in the list of items as he surveyed a spelling error in the name for one of the components.

“Hmm… Maybe,” Stanton replied, as he looked at the list. He sat down on the platform, and then slipped between the handrail supports down to the deck proper, brushing slightly and unintentionally against Ezrah as he walked a few meters over to the engineer’s desk near the equipment lift on the forward bulkhead. He pulled up the schematics of the standard shuttlepod design, and then looked at the list again. “Have you done any computer modelling on how this might affect overall manoeuvrability and vehicle stability? Some of these upgrades would probably be a good idea,” he said, looking at him.

Ezrah blushed crimson at the sudden, yet unintentionally body contact. “I’m s-s-sorry.” He stuttered almost immediately after the contact had happened, believing it to be his fault. He let out a deep sigh in an attempt to steady his breathing at being caught off guard and being so affected by such a very accidental touch; it was moments such as these that he cursed his inexperience and lack of social grace. “I’ve actually not ever done any computer modelling before, Sir.”

“Most of these parts wouldn’t directly affect the flight characteristics of the shuttle on their own, but they will when put together with the existing systems,” Stanton said, as he tapped a few commands into his console, to have the computer apply the modifications to the schematics. “It’s always good to find out how something will work, before you go to town on it,” he added, as the computer processed the input. “The problem with interfacing new and old components is that they don’t always… get along,” he said. 

Ezrah hadn’t considered that improving upon the current technologies employed on board the shuttlepod could actually perpetuate the current problems further; essentially, his attempts could very well duplicate the irregularities already experienced thus far.

The computer began listing off a series of facts and figures of the craft’s new manoeuvrability statistics, along with predicted reliability and maintenance times, after only a few minutes of working. On average, the numbers seemed to be going up, except for the computer linkages, which connected the control systems to the shuttle’s computer to the engines.

“It looks like it’d basically work… so good job…,” Stanton said, reading and offering a small smile.

He raised both eyebrows, “thank you, Sir. The older components currently installed may have reached a point in their life that is starting to adversely affect efficiency in flight operations. I suppose these upgrades could serve to do the same if not properly tested.”

“Though, it also looks like we’d have to replace the main processor for the shuttle and the linkages to the control surfaces, to make sure that the new gyroscopic stabilizers and thrust controllers stay at the right timing with the rest of the craft. The current system’s input doesn’t meet the precision requirements of those guys, so it could lead to glitches when the system tries to deal with a lack of significant figures in the data,” Stanton added, as he took a moment to understand the table of numbers in front of him.

He nodded, “Awesome; so then, what’s the next step in the process?” He asked, genuinely curious to know, as he moved a bit closer to Stanton.

“Well, fabricating the parts is pretty easy, and we can probably get the computer equipment from the station, and adapt it, but the biggest thing would be to convince Captain Burton to put our only shuttlepod out of commission for about a day, while someone installs these upgrades and tests them. We’ll also have to do it to the other two shuttles in storage and to the new shuttle,” Stanton said, looking over at him, and then back to the computer screen. “The reason why most of these shuttles are bare-bones is because Starfleet doesn’t like to have them sitting in the hanger for very long,” he added. “Captains are like that, too. Captains hate waiting… That’s one… uh… ‘nugget’ of wisdom that I don’t think I ever mentioned in class,” he said, laughing a little bit.

Ezrah stepped forward, “I could speak with the Captain and see if he’d be willing to at least entertain the prospect of these upgrades. And well, I could also install the components too; I mean I pretty much know every nook and cranny of the shuttlepods. I don’t think there’s one system and their respective component’s I don’t intimately know and understand.” The statement was spoken with enthusiasm, further emphasized by Ezrah’s signing; when he became over excited, it was often a habitual symptom. He was certainly glad that the Commander was lending such positive and constructive feedback as well as support; it made him feel important and a contributing member of the team. “And well, if you wanted to help, too, I wouldn’t mind.” He shook his head, intertwining his fingers together in an attempt to curb the sudden onslaught of sign language.

“If you can convince him, we should be able to find the time, ensign,” Stanton replied, as he made a note on the data pad, and saved the simulation in the ship’s records. He looked at him for a moment, wondering if he should just have his own team do it or if he should work with Ezrah. He knew very well how pilots were; they liked to be hands-on on their craft. At the same time, he’d also noticed that they were sometimes worse at engineering than they thought they were. “Well… most of my crews are going to be pretty busy until we launch. If we’re doing this, you’re going to have to work on the shuttle, anyway,” he said, whether out of a general weakness for pilots or out of deference to a particular pilot’s ‘order’ that he make new friends. “You’d better know the systems ‘intimately,’ ’cause there’ll be a test,” he added, with a smile.

Ezrah chuckled, cocking his head to the side as he closely observed Stanton for a moment, becoming slightly more than enamoured. Then, shaking his head as if to break the revere, Ezrah held out a hand for the return of the data tablet. “I suppose I should probably go and start working on the proposal to the Captain then… and maybe get a bit of shut eye too.” He started to back away slowly, “thank you for your time Commander. Ouch!” He yelped after inadvertently bumping into the sharp corner of a nearby console. “Ummm, have a, um, good evening then. Dream well!” He rubbed gently at his lower hip before turning on a heel and departing engineering rather quickly as his cheeks and the tip of his ears darkened in colour. Could I have been any more awkward?

Commander Stanton smiled softly at him as he retreated, wincing at the appropriate moment when the young ensign injured himself on the equipment. He had an expression of both concern and bemusement at the entire situation, as he spoke, “Good night, Ensign… And dismissed,” he added, though at that point he was talking just to himself. As he logged out of his computer, a thought came to mind. “Professor McSteamy?” he muttered, as he walked back over to the warp reactor and resumed his evening of preparing the ship for departure.

SEVEN

Portsmouth, Hampshire, United Kingdom of Great Britain, Europe, Earth
Thursday, February 6th, 2155

The sun was setting in the British skyline. It was an imposing image of red, oranges and yellows mixed with whispery clouds. Even with the staunch appearance of the sun, the weather below was slightly chilly; this wasn’t helped any more in Portsmouth by the small gust coming in from the English Channel. The night life was starting to pick up in the city of Portsmouth, with people either finally arriving at home or going out to socialise in the number of restaurants, clubs and pubs. For one family it would be a stay at home affair, one that hadn’t occurred for several months now. 

The Burton family was all together for the first time since the previous summer. Lloyd enjoyed these types of family events as it meant he got to catch up with his siblings and parents in a relaxed, light hearted environment, however tonight that atmosphere wasn’t completely there. His parents had wanted them all together before Lloyd would be off on his first mission commanding the Challenger. But the same was to be said by his siblings and their own ship’s assignments. The fact that all of them were in Starfleet was a sore subject for their parents to digest, in fact it was a matter they had never truly accepted or completely supported. However, it was more down to the fact they were very protective of their children, even with them being adults. 

The Burtons had all shared dinner at the family’s large home that sat on the shore. The house was built in the early twenty first century and sat within beautiful grounds. The Burtons had lived there since they had moved to the city after living in Canterbury in Kent. Neither of Lloyd’s parents had wanted to move after they took their respective jobs to Cambridge and Oxford, the entire Burton family loved living in Portsmouth. The mixture of naval culture and history made it an attractive and worthwhile place to live in. 

Lloyd was now relaxing with the rest of his family after the dinner their parents had prepared. They had all sat in the large conservatory finishing off their drinks however his father had gone off to take a call while his mother had gone into the kitchen to place their plates and cutlery into the dishwasher. The conservatory looked out across the back garden and from where the Burton siblings all sat they were able to see the Solent, the strait that sat between the British mainland and what was left of the Isle of Wight. When they were growing up, they had all enjoyed a number of summers sailing on the Solent and visiting the small island. Good memories. Lloyd was sat on one of the sofas with his brother Roman while their older sister, Madison, was sat with their youngest brother, Seth, on another sofa.

Lloyd looked at all three of them. When they had all turned up at the house, they were all in their uniforms, but after getting changed they had all attended dinner in their civilian attire. Lloyd, Seth and Roman all wore similar fashion of long-sleeved shirts with jeans while Madison wore black leggings and a dark purple blouse. They had all been talking about the latest domestic political affairs of Earth and the Commonwealth; a subject their father, Doctor Fraser Burton, enjoyed discussing even though he was one of Earth’s leading physicists at Cambridge University. When Doctor Burton had left the room with their mother, the four siblings had all started to discuss Lloyd’s new job.

“So, what’s the centre chair like?” Seth had piped up with the moment the room was free of their parents. Seth, the youngest Burton sibling, shared looks with his brothers and was the Chief Helm Officer on board the Republic, a job Lloyd had recommended him for. Seth was only twenty-seven, held the rank of lieutenant junior grade and was most enthusiastic out of the four of them, this was notably down to his age. 

Lloyd had chuckled as he sipped on his glass of white wine. “I don’t know Seth.” He answered.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Madison quickly asked in between sips of strawberry flavoured water. Madison, like Lloyd, held the rank of captain on board the Intrepid-class Voyager and was only thirty-eight, a year older than Lloyd. She shared her brother’s blue eyes and similar colour of hair however they were two different people. She had been the true scientist out of them all and had degrees in a range of areas that had pleased their parents. She had captained Voyager now for two years after her own skipper had taken early retirement. Since being a captain, she had become a lot more focussed. Their parents had believed she had lost her spark to explore the stars and had replaced it with a more militaristic look on life. 

“I haven’t sat in it.” Lloyd said, again in between sips of his drink. “I want to wait until we actually launch.”

It was Roman who burst out into laughter. “My God and I thought Seth was the soppy one out of us.” He said in between laughs. Roman was a lieutenant commander and was the Second Engineer on board Columbia

Lloyd playfully punched his brother who was only a couple of years younger than him. “That’s no way to speak to a superior officer! We know there’s no way none of us can beat Seth’s soppy approach to his love life!”

Seth sat there with a mocked surprise look on his face. “I’m hurt Lloyd.” He jokingly replied. “Anyway, how do you know how my love life is going?” He rhetorically asked.

“How is Nancy?” Lynette Burton asked as she re-entered the room with a glass of rosé wine in one hand. 

The four siblings all looked towards their mother who walked in to sit down on the sofa she had previously sat in with her husband. The retired exo-archaeologist took a sip of drink as she sat down and looked towards Seth. “Well?” She asked again, insisting she have an answer. Like any good mother she was interested in ensuring her children found someone to make their lives happy like she had. 

Seth smiled at the reference to Nancy. “She’s good, thanks mum. We celebrated our three-month anniversary two weeks ago.”

Lynette pushed a stray silver hair from her face as she responded. “I hope you made it as romantic as you could Seth.” 

“I did mum!” He replied, rolling his eyes at how she was always nagging them. “We were in orbit of Alpha Centauri Three, so we spent an evening in the city of New Samarkand.” Seth said in between sips of finishing his glass of wine. “She sends her apologies for not attending tonight but seeing as the Republic is only here for twenty-four hours, she wanted to see her folks and sister in Sydney.”

“That’s understandable.” Lynette said, shrugging it off before laying her eyes on her daughter. “And how is my soon to be son-in-law?” 

 Madison smiled at the fact that during the upcoming summer her and her long-term partner, Stephen Braddock would marry. It was going to be spectacular, especially as Lynette was helping to organise it. “He’s still in New York, overseeing the last parts to the latest skyscraper he has designed. He couldn’t make it tonight either as he is having dinner with his manager tonight.”

Lynette understood, tonight’s get-together was a last-minute thing due to Seth’s ship arriving later than planned. She then looked at her other two sons who sat parallel to her. “So, are you two seeing anyone?”

Lloyd knew the answer to that one for himself and for Roman, however he wondered if Roman was going to say anything tonight. Lloyd looked at his brother who was looking down at his own glass of wine, so Lloyd looked back at his mother. “No, I’m not seeing anyone at the moment.” 

She nodded showing her understanding. Lloyd had been engaged to Ros Noble and he had loved her dearly. When Ros had died last year, she had never seen her eldest son look so devastated, torn and empty. She had tried to help him through it; she had offered him a position with her new charity as its CEO, the idea that something new might help him a bit. However, he had turned it down after speaking it through with Roman who had convinced him to return to Starfleet. A decision she wasn’t too best pleased with, but she still supported Lloyd with his decisions. When he had been announced as the new Captain for Challenger, she had shown a sense of pride in his accomplishment in being the third captain of the new NX-class ships to leave Earth for deep space exploration. She only feared what was out there waiting for him. 

Lynette then turned to Roman. “What about you Roman?”

Roman shook his head quietly. “No.” He said. 

Almost two hours later Lloyd was sitting outside, wearing a very thick jumper and sitting on the steps to his parents’ patio. He was finishing a glass of amaretto when he felt someone come and sit down beside him. He was surprised to see Roman, holding a similar glass and a bottle of the liquor.

“More?” Roman offered.

“Please.” Lloyd answered as he watched his brother fill his glass up to just below the halfway line. “Thanks.” He said once it was done. He looked back out at the scenery before them. The sun had set and now a full moon was insight in the dark blue night sky. A few ships bobbed on top of the Solent as they sailed past. It was a peaceful scene with only the noise of a few nocturnal insects and creatures moving in the background against the gentle tides smacking the shore. “Why didn’t you tell mum about Nathan?” He asked his brother.

Roman sighed heavily into his glass. Nathan Wallis was one of Columbia’s armoury officers and someone Roman had been seeing quietly for a little while now. He had only told Lloyd a few days ago when they had bumped into each other in San Francisco. “It’s still early days,” He answered. “I didn’t want to jinx it by having him to have to deal with meeting our mother.” 

They both chuckled, knowing that when any of them brought someone home it was their mother who would interrogate their partners to know all of their business in hopes of determining if they were good enough for her children. 

“So, do I get to meet him at least?” Lloyd enquired before taking a sip. The contents warmed him inside as the sweet taste entered his mouth. 

“Maybe.” Roman said after blushing a bit. “I think he is more scared of meeting you and Madison to be honest.”

“Why?” Lloyd asked as he placed his glass down on the stone patio step and wrapped his arms around his chest to keep some warmth in.

“Nath is one of the most confident guys I know except when he is in the presence of anyone with the rank of captain and above,” Roman said with a smirk as he thought about his latest love interest. “The man literally turns to jelly. We’ll be having dinner in the mess hall; Captain Hernandez will walk pass and he goes silent! It takes ages for him to get back to his normal self!”

“Well perhaps Madison and I could scare them out of him completely?” Lloyd suggested before sharing a laugh with his brother. “So, when is Columbia due to depart?”

“Tomorrow morning before Challenger is launched.” Roman replied, looking at his brother. “Sorry I’m going to miss it all.” He apologised. 

Lloyd smiled at his brother’s sentiments. “I understand Roman, don’t worry.”

“I bet you know why Columbia is leaving and where we’re going.” Roman remarked. “Starfleet recalls Enterprise and Columbia prior to the launch of Challenger and then orders both NX-class ships to leave before its even left dry-dock. My money is on all three ships being involved in some big multi-mission.”

Lloyd shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t say Roman. You know that. Anyway, you’ll find out in the morning once Captain Hernandez briefs her senior staff.”

“We also find out who replaces Commander Levesque too.” Roman added. “You’re really lucky with her being your first officer.”

“Really?” Lloyd said. He knew deep down he shared his brother’s feelings too but to hear it being reassured felt good for the young captain. “How comes?”

“She was really well liked by everyone on Columbia. She got us out of a few tight spots in our early days.” Roman said as he finished the contents of his glass. “I only hope Captain Hernandez has found someone just as good as Levesque was.”

The two brothers were interrupted by the arrival of their other two siblings. Once again, the four Burton siblings were alone without their parents. Seth had squeezed in between his two brothers by pushing them apart while Madison had remained standing.

“So does mum know?” Lloyd asked, looking up towards his sister.

“Does mum know what?” Madison asked back, slightly confused at her brother’s words.

Lloyd looked at Roman and Seth, both who knew what he was talking about as they had spoken about it earlier between just them and returned with their boyish grins towards Madison.

“Oh, I hate it when you three do that!” Madison said as she sat down on the step below the one they were all sitting on. “How did you all know?” She whispered with a hint of concern and annoyance. 

Being the eldest out of the boys it was Lloyd’s duty to answer their sister. “The fact you didn’t share a bottle of wine with mum and the fact that you’ve tried really hard to hide what you’re concealing under that top.” His large grin was wide now. “So how long now until we’re all uncles?”

Madison rolled her eyes. “I’m eighteen weeks gone.” She said quietly. “And the doctors are pretty certain it’s going to be a boy!”

The three men all smiled at the joy of them having a nephew. The four siblings all hugged at the great news.

“And to answer your first question, mum does not know. I’m not going to tell her until the next time Voyager is back in the system.” Madison replied. “And none of you are going to tell her!”

“You really think you can keep this from her?” Seth asked rhetorically, as they all knew the answer to that question. 

After the slight laughter Lloyd raised his glass. “To the newest arrival of the Burton clan; may God have mercy on his soul once he meets his grandmother!” 

The four Burton siblings all tapped each other’s glasses with a clink while sharing a small laugh after the small toast, knowing that this would probably be the last time they’ll see each other for the foreseeable future.


Challenger NX-03

Commander Stanton had been awake and digging through the Challenger‘s systems for about four hours. He had finally fallen asleep a little after oh-two-hundred hours, after spending most of his off-duty time pouring over the ship’s technical manuals, before both his natural metabolism and the ship’s imminent launch forced him awake before Gamma Shift had even concluded. After running a visual inspection of both nacelles’ interiors, he had made a personal inspection of the ship’s fusion reactors and was heading to begin his new relationship with the ship’s computer systems, from their primary control centre on D Deck. He reached into the breast pocket of his uniform, which now bore Challenger‘s patch correctly, to retrieve an access card, which he waved over the appropriate spot on the door panel, before punching in his access code.

The doors, somewhat heavier than the rest of the ship’s hatchways, slid open to reveal the relatively small room at the heart of the ship’s eight main processing core blocks. He took a seat at the s-shaped desk in the middle of the room and found himself somewhat cold from the liquid nitrogen running through the coolant ducts within the computer itself. He pulled up the ship’s basic operating system, and began looking through the code, somewhat at random, as he began to get a feel for the system. From the commenting in the code, it was clear that it was still not quite finished, and he noticed that the access codes listed had MACO tags in them. He then remembered that the ship’s military detachment had been helping out with the construction process. After a moment of thought, he tapped a button on the nearest communications panel.

“Commander Stanton to Major Yu. If you have time, I think I should speak to you in the computer control room,” he said.

There was a bit of a wait on the conn, silence peppered only by grunting breaths and then the sound of a body slamming into a padded surface. “…someone put a wet cloth on Private Goldman and tell me when he wakes up.”The Major’s voice finally came in the background, before getting louder and clearer. “Sorry about that Commander. I’ll be there in a moment. Yu out.”

Stanton looked at the communications panel suspiciously for a moment, before going back to his work. After a few minutes, he had compiled a list of problems, which seemed to be still under repairs by the various teams on the ship. Despite its importance, the library computer had faced far less interest in its completion than had the rest of the ship’s primary systems. He looked back at the door, and then at his watch, waiting.

He didn’t have to wait long, for soon the door to the computer centre swished open and in walked Major Yu. She lacked a full uniform, wearing the MACO brown muscle shirt, leather gloves and boots, belt and the camo-pants, but lacking the uniform tunic. The lack of a tunic showed off her lean and muscular arms and athletic build, as well as the tattoos on her long shoulder and bicep. A maple leaf on the shoulder, and a series of varied-colour rings encircling the bicep. She held a small gym towel around her neck and shoulders and her hair had been pulled back into a simple ponytail. A small bruise marked her right cheek and another straighter and heavier bruise marked her right arm.

“So, Commander, what did you want to talk to me about?” She asked as she moved over to the Commander and the work desk.

“Ah, well, Major…,” Stanton started, studying her for a split second. “I was wondering if you had logs on what your men had been doing, as far as getting the computer core ready? I’ve only found Starfleet logs, so far, and I’d like to get a better picture of what still needs to be done,” he said.

“Ah yes, the computer banks…I actually assisted with that project myself, when the science officers and dry-dock techs would actually let me. Very finicky bunch.” The MACO chief replied, allowing herself a small prideful smirk. “There’s not much left to do actually…we had a few problems with garbage data code fragmentation, but the original Science chief fixed that up…right before the crash, actually. The database was installed fully, plus or minus a few notes on the mating habits of Centaurian cockroaches. If there’s anything we were not able to finish, it was the diagnostic and healing systems. Those got kinda…side-tracked…by the unfortunate demise of said Science Chief. I personally had a few ideas about those, as did one of my lieutenants, but nothing came out of it. No time, really. She’ll work fine and all, but those systems could use a fair bit of reworking to improve run times and decrease latency.”

“Yeah… Lots of things around here sort of hit a speed bump after the accident. I’m not even supposed to be here; I was teaching just a few days ago,” the commander replied, as he turned to look at the computer screen. “From what I could tell, our new CMO isn’t exactly a computer specialist, so it’d be nice to nail down any problems she might run into, before we need doctoring,” he added.

“Er…when I said diagnostic and healing systems…” Viktoria said with a slight grimace. “…I didn’t mean medical systems specifically…I meant the software for the computer that deals with finding and repairing anomalous, fragmented, damaged, or even hacked code….which unfortunately right now, are filled with anomalous code, fragmented, and some have been installed, but not setup yet correctly.”

“Right…,” the Chief Engineer said. “I’ll just hope that was sleep deprivation and not old age, on my part,” the relatively young Commander added, as he looked at the screen, now understanding what she had meant. “We could get some tips from Columbia‘s computer core, while it’s in transmission range,” he thought aloud.

“We actually have Columbia’s Chief Science Officer on board, she’s the new First Officer.” The MACO replied with a grin. “Unfortunately, that wouldn’t help as much. Some of the underlying code on the Challenger is fairly new, for instance, if you take a look at the equations in the sub-diagnostic software files, you’ll find traces of Andorian algorithms we managed to pick up before the Terra Prime incident. Very efficient work, when it’s actually working, which is why it got kinda stalled after the first Science Officer’s passing,no one else really got them, including me. My own grasp of Andorian isn’t that good, yet.

“I suppose we could just isolate the files and shelve those coding for now, in favour of the original standardized coding…at least until we want a good solid crack at figuring it out. Shouldn’t be too much of a problem unless we run across anyone who could also hack or infect the Columbia or Enterprise.”

“Yeah, no hablo Andorian… or even Spanish,” Stanton replied, looking at her. “I guess we’ll have to shelve that particular code, for now. I think in the long run, it’d probably be a good thing to fix, though. Hopefully before someone tries to hack us, too,” he added, before looking back at the console.

“Funny…I never actually learned Spanish either…weird, it’s a similar linguistic family as French, which I do know quite well…” The Major said as she sat down on the other side of the S-table and pulled her chair up to the opposite console from the Chief Engineer. “I’m off duty right now, so how about I help you clean up this digitally encrypted mess, eh?”

“I have a few hours before my next…appointment,” Stanton said, spacing for a moment, before looking back at his screen. “I have to say, I usually like crawling inside the engines more than into the computer’s operating system,” he added, as he began scrolling through the code.

“You said you were a professor, I imagine the physical work has its appeal after spending time with computers and lecture halls.” Yu commented as she activated her terminal and began accessing the diagnostic computers. “Where did you teach?”

“Starfleet Training Command, in San Francisco, handling Basic Engineering and Warp Field Dynamics,” Stanton replied. “I’ve probably had about half of the ship’s Ensigns in class. I know for sure I had the helmsman. I’ve always been awful with names, though…,” he added, as he looked closely at a piece of syntax. “I was supposed to join Discovery after the term, but it didn’t quite happen that way.”

 “Ah…STC-” Viktoria stopped all of a sudden and peered closer at her screen. “Found one. Chip one-one-three-eight, Alpha sector, fifth line. Isolating…can you start patching, Commander?”

“I see it. Working on it,” Stanton replied. “So, do I detect a slight hint of a Canadian accent?” he asked, as he tapped several commands into the control consoles in front of him.

“…thought that maple tattoo and use of ‘eh’ would’ve given it away.” The Major replied with a smirking grin as she went back to code hunting. “Yeah, I’m Canadian…born and raised in the GTA. Judging from your voice, I’d say…Boston or the surrounding area, though given how watered down it is, I’m guessing it’s been a while since you’ve been there.”

“Very good… Wicked, if you will,” Stanton said, with a laugh. “It looks like Chip zero-two-ninety, Gamma Sector; the nineteenth line has a similar problem.”

“Isolating.” Yu’s hands moved over the console. “Patch ready. So, I was correct then? Good to know I haven’t lost my deductive touch while dislocating the quad-jointed limbs of Anzarix Smugglers…so, you’re a former STC teacher, from Boston originally, probably spent the last few years in San Francisco then…how far out into the inky black have you gone before?”

“I spent six years on Intrepid-class ships, mostly patrolling the colonies and visiting our allies,” the engineer replied, after a moment of thought. “Though Miranda was more involved in charting missions and Luna was more of a patrol ship,” he added. “Have you served on starships before?”

“That’s an affirmative, Commander.” She replied as she regained focus once again on her screen. “After a posting on Mars, I got command of a MACO unit detached to an Intrepid-class ship, the Republic for three years…we got pretty far out there, for an NV-class at least. Found another. Chip zero-two-nine-one, Phi Sector, eighth line.”

“We should have a computer that fixes our computer,” Stanton mused. “I think the farthest I’ve been is Coridan, but I’m not really sure. I’ve never been the kind of guy that they send on most away missions,” he added, as he began repairing the defective code.

“Technically we do have such a computer, it’s the one that we are currently fixing.” Yu said with a small chuckle. “Advantage of being a MACO on a Starfleet Vessel…you may be getting shot at more often than not, but you do get to log a lot of hours on away missions…typically guarding or rescuing the actually landing party, if you’re not part of that team yourself. I once got dragged along as a linguist because the communications officer was suffering severe allergies to something in that planet of the week’s atmosphere. Pollen, I think. Just operated and adjusted the universal translator for the most part…was refreshingly boring and ordinary…contextually, that is.”

“An advantage of being an engineer is that you don’t get shot at as much,” the engineer stated. “More paperwork, though,” he added, flipping through a few screens of code.

“Hah.” Viktoria replied. “You do not know the meaning of the word ‘paperwork’, until you’re a cop who just discharged her sidearm while interrogating a Rigellian trader…and that’s all you’re ever going to get on that particular story.”


This close to departure any ship’s engineering was going to be a hubbub of noise and mess Callahan didn’t really have much understanding of. He tended to let his fellows in the red stripes be with their work and only interfere if it was absolutely necessary. And to his eyes, Challenger‘s engineering was an even greater hive of fuss than he’d expected, though this wasn’t so unusual considering they had a new boss. Every new boss wanted to do things their own way. It was something Callahan’s own Armoury Officers were discovering, to mixed reactions from all involved. Professionalism was all very well and good, but nobody liked being asked to do a good job all over again, and nobody liked having to do things someone else’s way.

Callahan got enough of that from his wife, after all.

He looked, as always, to the eye of the storm for answers, and he didn’t need to be a trained detective to find them. There were only going to be so many people in a full Commander’s pips on the ship at all, let alone in engineering, in a red stripe, and male. Not to mention younger than him. But that was the price he’d paid for choosing between career and family, and so Callahan, as always, gritted his teeth and bit back his pride and made his way over to the young man standing at the centre of what looked to his untrained eye to be nothing less than chaos. It was best to not interfere with an engineer’s lot if he could avoid it, but he had work to do.

“Commander Stanton?” It still didn’t hurt to check.

“Yes?” the commander replied, from his position on the deck near the warp reactor. A pair of greyish blue eyes surveyed the newcomer and attempted to place him as a member of his own staff but failed. “Is there something I can help you with?” he asked, politely and with the barest traces of an East Coast accent.

“Lieutenant Commander Callahan, I’m the Chief Armoury Officer,” Callahan said with a polite smile, extending a hand. “Hope I’m not interruptin’ too badly by comin’ down at this time, sir; you’re looking awful busy.” His gaze, returning from a sweep around the sights of engineering to settle upon Stanton, was sincere. But his implied apology was clearly a courtesy, rather than a genuine offer that he might just come back later. 

“Commander Stanton, Chief Engineering Officer,” Stanton said, as he accepted the handshake and motioned him over to the area near to the small desk under the catwalk, which was slightly more private. He looked at the other man, who was taller than he was in addition to being older, for half a second. “So, what can I do for you Commander Callahan?” he asked, leaning back against his desk and crossing his arms.

“The captain’s having us run some training sessions an’ war games once the Challenger leaves dock,” said Callahan, immediately brusque, business. “This’ll be including defence of key locations on board the ship, both for my boys and, eventually, the personnel who staff ’em. After the Bridge, Engineerin’s the most vital location on the ship to defend.”

“War games,” the engineer repeated, as if it was a foreign term to him. “What did you have in mind?” he asked, looking around at his staff for a moment. “Most of my officers are only six months out of STC; almost none of them have had any combat experience beyond that. War games on top of everything else we’ll be doing in the ship’s first few weeks out of dock will be pretty… painful.”

“All the more reason for them to be ready,” Callahan said briskly. “But the war games are goin’ to vary. My primary focus is on ensurin’ that my teams an’ the MACOs are able to work together to rapidly respond to a boardin’ threat an’ can secure an’ defend all key locations. That said, the best way for a station to be safe is for them who man the station to be able to defend themselves. That ain’t just double-checkin’ everyone’s phase pistol-competency is up to spec, it’s teachin’ ’em how to best protect against entry points, vital areas, hot spots for cover, so forth.”

As he spoke, he ducked his head out from under the catwalk and gestured with each point to an appropriate locale – the doors above, the warp core reactor controls, several alcoves which would, in his estimation, make for good cover. “That way you an’ your boys can hold out here ’til the cavalry come.”

“Well, yeah, of course it’s good to be prepared,” Stanton said in an agreeing sort of tone, as he listened and watched. “If any bad guys were to get inside the engine room, though… It’s game over, especially if we’re already damaged. One stray shot from an energy weapon would reduce us all to our constituent atoms pretty quickly,” he added, looking around. “We need ways of keeping them out in the first place.”

“Yes, sir,” said Callahan, a little cautiously. “Both in terms of securin’ the room against intruders an’ my boys an’ the MACOs bein’ ready to intercept any boarders, that’s bein’ taken care of. But just because someone’s got in don’t mean it’s game over. They might not be wantin’ to blow themselves up along with us, they might be smart enough to not shoot around anything too delicate, an’ chances are good that if they got this far, they want to take control of the ship, not just destroy it. It might be downright dangerous for them to come chargin’ in here, but if any attackers do, I ain’t gonna throw my hands up an’ say it’s over, an’ unfortunately not everyone we fight is gonna be so logical as to not even try to attack engineerin’.”

“Too bad we can’t just fight the Vulcans,” Stanton said, with a smile. “I’m not against the drills, we’re just going to have our hands full with fine tuning the engines under actual use. They’ve never been brought to full power for extended periods of time, and we’ll probably have… teething problems,” he added. “I can give you the engineering work schedule for the next few weeks, and you can build the drills around that, when we’re not elbow-deep in the plasma injectors or something,” he suggested.

“Sure. I know you folks don’t have an easy time down here even when all’s goin’ well. On a perfectly good day, one of my boys screws up, he gets told off ‘cos if he did that screwup on a bad day he could get everyone killed. One of your boys screws up on a perfectly good day, ain’t gonna be nobody ’round to tell him off. Don’t fancy gettin’ ourselves underfoot in an’ around that.” Callahan gave a companionable grin. “I’ll look over the schedule, fit us in when it’s gonna cause all involved the least headache.”

“That’s mighty kind of you,” Stanton said, with a grin. He looked up for a moment, thinking about that, and then looked back at Callahan, realizing that he’d inadvertently assimilated his speech patterns. “I mean, ‘thank you,’ I don’t know why I said that; I’m from Boston,” he added.

The Armoury Officer grinned. “You know, that ain’t the first time that’s happened,” he said, and if possible the Texan twang in his voice was even stronger that time. “I’ll let you get back to yer real work, Commander, an’ go make sure my boys ain’t gone an’ got themselves into no sort of trouble. You have a good day.”

“You, too, Commander Callahan,” Stanton said, smiling; his face was somewhat red from embarrassment, though, at the slip of the tongue, and quickly inserted himself back into the crowd, to resume preparing the ship for launch.


Two hours later and Commander Michael Stanton had practically worn a hole in the deck plating, pacing, as he toyed with his dark brown hair. He had arrived in the launch bay control booth fifteen minutes before the Challenger‘s new shuttlepod was scheduled to dock. That morning, he had found himself particularly concerned with every detail of his appearance, as if he were preparing for a long-overdue reunion, and not to see a man that he’d seen every day for most of the previous four years, the previous day excluded. The two crewmen manning the console in front of him kept looking back with worried expressions regarding his particular brand of insanity, but he wasn’t paying attention to them, just the chronometer banded in leather on his wrist.

Shuttlepod One to Challenger,” Came the electronically reproduced voice of Alex Rodham, sounding quite robotic over the communications system. Stanton made a dozen mental notes to himself to run a diagnostic on the communication repeater, speaker, and transceiver assembly, as a thousand butterflies escaped into his stomach.

Challenger here, go ahead Shuttlepod One,” responded the young petty officer on the left side of the control station.

I am beginning my approach manoeuvre. Requesting a vector and a berth,” the pilot said.

“Vector to zero-four-five mark one-zero, for docking position one,” the controller replied.

Vector and berth acknowledged. Coming to heading zero-four-five mark one-zero,” Commander Rodham replied. “Requesting final departure clearance.”

“Clearance granted. Welcome home, Shuttlepod One,” the young man in front of Stanton replied, as he punched the necessary buttons to open the ship’s exterior doors, opening the ship’s launch bay to space. The docking arm descended from the ceiling to await a connection with the appropriate umbilical port on the pod. After about fifteen seconds, there was a thud, and then the pod was pulled up into the belly of the ship. “The shuttlepod is arriving, Commander,” the technician reported, diligently.

“Yes. I can see that,” Stanton said, mostly ignoring him as he walked into the starboard vestibule of the control booth and waited for the pressurization indicator to light up. As soon as it turned green, he stepped into the launch bay, even ahead of the duty crewmen who were to flip the gangway down to the pod’s hatch. Stanton paced along the catwalk, as the two young men entered the compartment to fold down the ladder and to get ready to offload the pod’s cargo. He thought that he must have seemed rather silly to them, but he didn’t care. After about twenty agonizing seconds, the stairs were down and the hatch to the pod swung up and opened. A moment later, the tall, blond-haired form of Alex Rodham climbed out of the shuttlepod, and stepped up onto the grating ringing the launch bay.

“Permission to come aboard, sir?” Rodham asked, sporting a crooked grin as he came up to Stanton. He was wearing a duty jumpsuit with a Starfleet Command patch on his shoulder, which, along with his stylishly messy hair, perfect grin, and athletic appearance, completed his appearance as someone who belonged behind the helm of a starship. Stanton hadn’t seen him dressed like that in a while, but he liked it; for the past several years he and Stanton both had been assigned the service dress uniform of employees of Starfleet Command.

“Granted, Mister Rodham,” Stanton replied, smiling back. The crewmen climbed down into the shuttle and began pulling up crates filled with supplies, as Rodham stepped a foot closer to Stanton and handed him a data tablet.

“I need you to sign for this delivery, sir,” the taller man said, with a verbal tone of absolute professionalism towards his long-time boyfriend, though he was standing perhaps a bit closer to him than would normally be appropriate between two officers on duty, and the grin that accompanied his quiet, masculine voice was certainly not regulation. 

“Yes, I guess Starfleet wouldn’t want Captain Burton trying to cheat them out of another shuttle by saying we never got this one,” Stanton replied, grinning at him, as he accepted the pad and applied his thumbprint to it, before handing it back.

“Commander Stanton, these are marked for you. Where should I take them?” one of the crewmen asked, as he carried a pair of metal packing crates slightly larger than suitcases.

“Some of your belongings, Commander,” Rodham explained.

“Take them to my quarters, please,” Stanton replied, looking at the crewman-turn-porter for a split-second.

“Take my bag there, too,” Rodham interjected, before they could get far. “Please,” he added, with a charismatic grin. The two crewmen looked from the pilot to the engineer, before complying and leaving the room. Stanton gave Rodham a long look, wanting to rush in and hug him, but he noticed the eyes of the crewmen in the booth fixed on both of them. He led Rodham out of the bay, before pulling him by the hand down the access stairs to the lower area of the launch bay.

“I have something to show you,” Stanton said, excitedly, as he led them both through the launch bay and into a small room on the aft end of the ship. They passed around a vertical ladder and entered into a gravity rotation drum. “Hold on,” he said, before pressing a button, which caused them to be inverted. He then led the way up another ladder on the other side, which took them towards the keel of the ship. “You’re going to love the view,” he said, a smile on his voice.

“I already do,’ Rodham quipped, from beneath him, as they climbed, causing Stanton to blush. They quickly found themselves in the ship’s ventral observation cupola, a transparent dome that was designed to allow for a direct look of things under the ship, with provisions for the use of optical telescopes and other equipment. “This is a damn good view, though,” the taller of the two remarked, as Stanton closed the hatch under their feet.

“I haven’t had a chance to climb down here, yet,” Stanton said, as he looked out at Earth, from the aft end of the very small compartment. “I figured you’d enjoy it,” he added, brightly.

“I’m all alone with you, so of course I’m enjoying it,” Rodham replied, simply, before hugging him tightly from behind, as he looked over Stanton’s head and out the view port. “Gorgeous blue marble isn’t it?” he asked, quietly, as the planet passed before their eyes.

“Yeah…” Stanton agreed, as he leaned back into the hug. “I missed you,” he stated, contorting his neck to look him in the face, and receiving a kiss for his efforts.

“I missed you, too. I’m on a short-term leave starting now. I know you’re busy, but I figured I could stay aboard until  the launch,” Rodham said.

“I’m sure I can put you to work, somewhere,” Stanton replied. “I could use an attractive assistant,” he added, with a laugh.

“An assistant, huh?” Rodham replied, as he hugged him more tightly. “How about you play assistant, and I’ll play Chief Engineer?” he asked, as he quickly plucked one of Stanton’s newly earned rank pips off of his uniform.

“Hey! I was using that!” Stanton exclaimed, as he turned around in Alex’s arms to face him. There was a pout forming on his lips that was distinctly unworthy of a commander, or indeed a lieutenant, as his insignia now designated him.

“I think you’re missing a ‘sir’ in there,” Rodham replied, as he pocketed the tiny silver square, and then hugged him again so that he couldn’t get it back. Stanton struggled a little but found himself firmly restrained. “I like that face you make when you’re pretending to be mad at me,” the pilot said, grinning at him.

“I guess I could stand being under you,” Stanton replied, somewhat airily. “I mean working under you!” he corrected, immediately, as he looked around the compartment, for a reason that he soon decided was silly. “I’m so used to not being able to say things like that… being worried that a student would overhear,” he added, with a sheepish grin.

“No students here,” Rodham reminded him. “No crewmen or ensigns or captains, either. Just you… and me,” he added, with a grin. “All alone,” he stated, with a hand on the zipper of the engineer’s jumpsuit. 

“All alone?” Stanton replied, smiling as he allowed himself to be kissed. After only a moment, the communications pad behind him beeped.

Masuko to Stanton,” the voice of his Asian second-in-command said.

“Leave it,” Rodham said, dismissively, as he started to unzip the top of Stanton’s jumpsuit. “Leave it,” he repeated, as Stanton backed up a little to reach the console. 

“You have no idea how much I’d like to,” Stanton said, solemnly, before pressing the button. “Stanton here,” he said, sighing a little bit. Before the commander had a chance to finish his sigh or the lieutenant on the other end had a chance to speak, Rodham leaned in to kiss him again, with one hand on his cheek and the other still on his zipper.

I was just wondering, sir, which team you wanted to work on aligning the warp field governor,” Stanton heard the woman say, as he put his hand on Rodham’s to stop him from opening his uniform jumpsuit.

“I’ll… Well…” Stanton said, finding himself imminently distracted. “I’ll do it myself,” he said, after a moment.

Do you need a team, sir?” the lieutenant asked.

“No,” Stanton replied. “I’ve got a set of extra hands, today,” he added, while attempting to prevent that extra set of hands from opening any more closures on his uniform.

“He’ll be there in fifteen,” Rodham said, grinning at Stanton.

… Sir?” the engineer asked through the comm. Stanton glared, and clamped his hand down over Rodham’s mouth, before looking back down at the small communications terminal.

“I’ll be there as soon as possible. Sorry, don’t mind him. Stanton out,” Stanton said, quickly, before terminating the call, and releasing Rodham.

“Scared of your own assistant?” Rodham teased. “The real one, I mean,” he clarified.

“I missed you,” Stanton replied, grinning. “The warp field governor is also in a secluded part of the ship, so maybe if you’re good and you help me align it…” he added, trailing off as he bent down to open the hatch.

“You’ll what?” Rodham asked, curiously, following him back down the ladder, and back into the ship itself. 

“Be eternally grateful,” Stanton replied, grinning, as he led the way towards the aft end of E Deck. There, they climbed through an access tube into the small pod between the ship’s warp nacelles, which contained the device that made the essential adjustments to the ship’s warp field which would allow sustained high-warp cruises. It wasn’t especially difficult to align the system, though he did have to continue to work hard to fight off distraction. They set to aligning each of the governing arms and crystals manually and applying the new computer routines.


“I’ve not seen Commander Stanton since the new shuttlepod arrived; if I do see him though, I’ll let him know that you’re looking for him Mister Alcott.” The Petty Officer seated behind the launch bay control station replied politely. From his own acute observations, the manner in which the Commander and the pilot, the passenger manifest had referenced a Lieutenant Commander Rodham, of the shuttlepod had hastily departed the launch bay, he assumed both men would be rather preoccupied in the company of one another for the remainder of the afternoon. He certainly wasn’t a man to judge and it was evident through Commander Stanton’s erratic behaviour prior to the shuttlepods docking, that he was very much looking forward to Rodham’s arrival.

Ezrah nodded curiously, “thanks Chief… I appreciate it.”

The Petty Officer merely nodded; his attention having returned to the length of the control panel before him.

Ezrah quietly slipped from the control room via the port egress, managing back towards the central corridor. As he navigated its length, his mind flickered to the communiqué he’d received from Commander Audrey Carlisle earlier in the morning. He’d not anticipated hearing from the woman for the foreseeable future, so to receive a video message from her had certainly instilled a bit of shock. She explained that an all-to-brief stay on Earth had been scheduled in hopes of resolving a family dispute that had arisen. Her stay would extend four days and she had expressed a deep interest in seeing Ezrah prior to departing back to Columbia’s or the Challenger’s scheduled disembarking. In truth, Ezrah hadn’t yet convinced himself as to whether a visit with Audrey would be a good thing. Of course, he missed her deeply and wouldn’t waste a moment to drop absolutely everything merely to be near her. But that was his heart talking. His brain knew just how difficult a meeting such as this would play upon his heart and that alone had caused hesitation. In a way, he knew better and thought that passing on the meeting was in both their best interests. But it was well known that when it concerned matters of the heart, one typically made the decision that was completely opposite of what was best for them and the one they loved. He didn’t want to miss the opportunity to see Audrey, but he just couldn’t resolve himself to a decision.

Regardless, he did want to see Professor McSteamy, which elicited a different type of excitement altogether, but one that he was looking forward to experiencing. Hopefully with the Professor’s help, the upgrades and improvements implemented to the embarked shuttlepods would increase the crafts’ on-board system efficiency. And, well, the Professor wasn’t so hard on the eyes either, completely the opposite really. Ezrah hadn’t really been placed in a circumstance where he considered another man to be attractive; but if there were two words one could use to describe the Professor it was utterly dreamy. He thought there were few that would understand nor appreciate this, so instead he kept these feelings to himself.

Ezrah soon stepped over the threshold, entering the vast, multilevel cabin that comprised engineering. The activity level was still rather high, especially with the anticipation of Challenger’s launch, yet it seemed somewhat subdued compared to several nights prior. Unlike his first visit to main engineering, Ezrah didn’t hesitate to approach a crewman standing behind a nearby station.

“Excuse me, have you seen Professor Stanton?”

“Yes, Sir.” The Crewman replied, glancing up momentarily from his work to address the senior officer. “He’s working with an assistant on aligning the warp field governor.” The Crewman reached out a hand to point towards an open hatchway. “It can get a little tight, but you’re rather small, so you shouldn’t have much trouble. Simply descend and then head to your right down the causeway until it starts to open up, he shouldn’t be much further ahead.”

Ezrah grinned broadly, “thanks!” He replied jovially.

Approaching the hatchway, Ezrah slipped into the port, discovering ample room to manoeuvre. Descending the metal ladder, Ezrah soon felt both feet set firmly on the metal grate below.

From a very early age, much to the general discomfort of others, Ezrah had developed an inherent ability to sneak. It wasn’t that he did so intentionally; it was simply that he was so light on his feet due to many years of dance. Oftentimes, his unexpected appearance or disappearance could startle others, but for the Alcott family, they became more than accustomed.

As he scooted down the causeway, he could hear muffled sounds but nothing that made any coherent sense. As the causeway started to expand left and right, a single port ahead centre remained open with the designation number above the hatch indicating it to be the warp field governor calibration cabin.

Lightly pulling himself feet first from within the causeway, Ezrah was positioned in such a way that he didn’t immediately see the Professor and his assistant. Brushing dust from his uniform, he started to circle, taking in the larger than expected cabin. As he turned almost completely around, his breath caught sharply. “Oh balls.” His voice filtered through the cabin, gripping the startled attention of Professor McSteamy and his assistant in a very revealing state of undress and coupled intimacy. Eyes drawn wide in absolute surprise at the two men’s precarious state of affairs and facing a red beacon of embarrassment, Ezrah turned away quickly as he shielded both eyes.

“Should’ve just sent an engineering team,” Stanton mumbled, as he pulled on his clothes, quickly. The lieutenant commander next to him just grinned, as he made himself decent. “Should’ve locked the compartment,” the engineer corrected. He looked down to see that he had only two pips on and held his hand out towards Rodham.

“I guess you can have it back,” the other said, before retrieving the piece of silver from his pocket, and handing it over.

“So… what can I do for you, ensign?” Stanton asked, blushing deeply as he reattached his rank insignia.

“I um… um… well… I saw that the new shuttlepod had arrived and I was hoping you might have some time to help with those upgrades.” Ezrah’s back remained facing both men as he talked at the bulkhead, leaning forward to gently rest his forehead against its cool surface. “Awkward… so very awkward.” He mumbled to himself, yet just loud enough to possibly be heard. “But if you’re… um… busy we can talk later.” He finished, bouncing lightly on either heel.

“Oh, um, I have time…,” the commander said, standing up from the deck plating. “You can turn around,” he said, flipping some of his hair off of his forehead.

Ezrah turned slowly, forcing an uncomfortable smile, not necessarily for himself but more for the two men. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t look either man in the eye, choosing rather to look around the cabin, or at the assignment patches adorning their shoulders or absolutely anywhere else but at them. It wasn’t by any means that what he saw had disturbed him, quite the opposite. It was just that he could understand how very uncomfortable an exchange like this might have been for both of them.

“Okay, um, I-I’ll meet you in the maintenance bay then. Thank you, um, Sir.” He managed, placing either hand behind his back as he fidgeted with his fingers waiting to be dismissed.

“Sure,” Stanton said, quietly, as he adjusted the cuffs of his uniform jumpsuit. “I’m sure Commander Rodham would be happy to help, too,” he added, elbowing the other man gently, after he failed to make a comment.

“Yeah, sure,” the tall pilot next to Stanton replied, with the same sort of forced smile that Ezrah had used. 

The name Rodham perked Ezrah’s ears. “Commander Rodham?” He wondered aloud, the name sounding more than a little familiar. “From Starfleet Command?” He questioned, managing just enough bravery to look the unfamiliar assistant in the eyes. 

“In the flesh,” Rodham replied, with something of a grin. “Lieutenant Commander Alex Rodham, Director of Flight Operations,” he added, offering a handshake. “It’s Ensign Alcott, right?” he asked, looking at him for a moment, before gears of recognition seemed to click into place.

Ezrah nodded, hesitant to shake the man’s hand considering the circumstances. “Yes, Sir… that’s me.” He shook his head, a bit in awe that Lieutenant Commander McHotty was here on the Challenger. The last time that he’d seen the man, it was at a formal inquisition regarding his relationship with Audrey. The two had sat across from one another, McHotty speaking candidly while Ezrah pretty much quaked in his boots. At the time, he couldn’t speak openly of that very relationship, it served too much of a liability to Audrey’s career. McHotty was an intimidating man, at least when he wanted to be. But Ezrah remained steadfast and true, remaining silent and pleading complete deniability. Seeing him now though, made him feel small and intimidated. He couldn’t suppress a small shudder as a result of this uncomfortableness.

“Look… I know this is a little… awkward, but congratulations on winning the Challenger. I remember reading your file; you deserved it,” Rodham said, in a conciliatory tone, his green eyes darting over to his partner for a moment.

Ezrah smiled, he couldn’t help it. “Thank you, Sir. It’s an honour… A little surreal, but an honour none-the-less.” He paused, wondering if he should pose the question, especially in front of Professor McSteamy. “You don’t remember me, do you?” He finally prompted, after the silence lingering between them grew to the point of being awkward, perhaps not as much as bare bums, but rivalling it just the same.

“I remember a certain procedural meeting, but I didn’t see the need to bring it up,” Rodham said, simply, as he looked at him. “Considering it was supposed to be confidential,” he added, after Commander Stanton’s blue eyes darted over to him, quizzically.

Ezrah clapped both hands together; bouncing in his heels once again. “Righto!” He replied, voice cracking as he did. “We can go now.” Turning on a heel, Ezrah went to enter the causeway.

“Dismissed, Ensign,” Stanton said. “We’ll catch up with you,” he added, watching the junior officer leave. Quiet whispers could be heard between the two, as he left the area, before their foot falls began, a safe distance behind him. Commander Stanton’s voice seemed much more nervous about the whole situation, while Rodham was laughing occasionally, though the details of their conversation was indiscernible.

Ezrah glanced over his shoulder after hearing Rodham laugh again. It made him nervous. Were they talking about him? Were they having a laugh at his expense? It made him uneasy and a little sick to his stomach. “Just focus on yourself… be only concerned about you right now.” He mumbled to himself, signing the words at the same time. It was a peculiar habit of his that often drew curious glances, and a few filled with concern, but he tried to pay no attention to that.

A short while later, both commanders walked into the launch bay, looking a little more composed and professional than they had been a few minutes before. From that perspective, it was clearer that Rodham’s up-beat attitude had more to do with the fact that he was talking to Stanton, not because he was talking about anything particularly sordid or embarrassing. 

“So, uh, Ensign… How do you want to get started,” Stanton asked, clapping his hands together, seeming content to ignore the earlier incident, at least for the time being.

Ezrah shook his head once more, forcing himself to focus on his duties. “Well, how about with the gyroscopic stabilizers and then perhaps follow-up with the thrust controllers.” He replied flatly as he wheeled out a tool and equipment cart. Unzipping his jumper, Ezrah pulled either arm free from the sleeves and then tied them tightly around his waist as he took note of any additional tools that may be needed. “I think they also sent the newest software update, too, which we can upload once the processors have been upgraded.” He finished, gently scratching at his chin, his eyes conveying the excitement he felt in undertaking this project.

“Sounds good,” the senior of the two commanders replied, as he moved over to pry off one of the access panels on the side of the shuttle. “It never hurts to be more stable,” he joked, as he looked at the device.

“Has the commander told you yet that he hates flying in these pods?” Rodham asked, with a grin, as he moved over with him, earning himself a glare. “I think he hopes the transporter will put us out of a job,” he added.

Ezrah chuckled, “no he didn’t actually share that with me.” The Ensign retrieved the first tool that would be needed to start removing the older gyroscopic stabilizer and waited for one of the Commanders to gesture for it. “I sure hope the transporters won’t retire us. I just got started and besides, I’m much too pretty to do anything else.” He attempted the joke, grinning broadly as he handed the tool to Rodham.

“We pretty people have our uses, shuttlepods or no,” Rodham quipped, making an exaggerated glance towards the engineer, who was returning from getting a piece of equipment from a tool cart. He received another withering sort of glance, though it didn’t seem to have much force behind it.

“We had a slight transporter malfunction, yesterday; I doubt either of you will be out of a job anytime soon,” Stanton said, glossing over that comment, though it was somewhat apparent that he had a few thoughts on what pretty people were useful for.

Ezrah shuddered slightly at the news; all shipboard crewmen were intimately aware of how very new and unstable–to a certain degree–transporter technology was. Ezrah had only been transported on two separate occasions, both of which took place during mandatory training exercises at the STC. In quick succession, a series of tools were passed between the three men as they worked to free the device from within the confines of the compartment. “So, um… how long have you two… um…?” He didn’t necessarily want to pry, but the curiosity in-of-itself was far too overpowering. “I mean, he’s obviously not your ‘assistant’, right?”

“About seven and a half years, total,” the blond Lieutenant Commander volunteered, as he used a spanner to secure a new piece of equipment into the shuttle’s frame. 

“Yeah, since college, then we were… apart after graduation, and then when we got back together on Earth,” Stanton said, looking over at Rodham. “Not my assistant, no,” he added.

“We’ve never actually been different ranks, for more than a few weeks,” Rodham contributed.

“Wow!” Almost eight years, Ezrah was impressed. In his private observations of Professor McSteamy, he’d never considered the man to be in a relationship. He seemed so academic, so provincial. Yet the Professor was a rather private person, so it should have come as no surprise that he’d not have shared such an aspect of his personal life, especially with that of the student body. “It must be difficult.”

“Yeah… It can be a little challenging, sometimes, to get our work schedules lined up,” Commander Stanton replied, quietly. He glanced over at the other pilot for a moment. “Worth it, though, he said somewhat absently.

“Well, with Challenger preparing to leave port for who knows how long…. saying goodbye, that’s what I think would be the most difficult.” Ezrah said this in an almost reflective tone, as if on autopilot. His eyes remained distant as the memory of his and Audrey’s own emotional goodbye when she had left for the Columbiaflickered in his mind’s eye. The only word that could accurately describe how he felt at the time was devastated, absolutely and wholeheartedly; so much so that he had come very close to withdrawing from the STC… especially after the hell they’d both gone through during the formal inquisition. “Yeah… saying goodbye.” He reiterated under his breath.

“Yeah… Difficult,” Stanton said, his voice now somewhat hollow. “I need some air. You two can keep working,” he said, after a moment, before exiting the bay, at near warp speed. Commander Rodham made a noise of protest, but the doors closed, and Stanton did not return.

“Saying goodbye once was hard. Saying it twice is ten times as bad,” Rodham said, with a sigh, as he turned back to adjust one of the thrust controllers.

Ezrah’s eyes followed Stanton’s departure, “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to upset him. It’s just that… I suppose I can relate.” He remarked as he stepped a bit closer for a better angle so as to tighten the mounting brackets. “If I can ask, knowing that Professor McSteam-ahem-Commander Stanton was going to be reassigned to the Challenger, why isn’t it that you requested transfer on board too?”

“We didn’t know until yesterday,” Rodham replied, as he turned to the tool cart. “Did you plan on giving up your seat, Ensign?” he asked, dryly. “He was supposed to join Discovery in a few months. I’m one of the final candidates for the helm position on that ship,” he added, with a sigh. “I went to take him to coffee, and command had decided between breakfast and then that ‘McSteamy’ had to be on this ship, now,” the Lieutenant Commander said, in a relatively neutral tone, though the accidental nickname hadn’t escaped his notice.

Ezrah shook his head, “I’m sorry about the ‘McSteamy’ thing…” Ezrah apologized half-heartedly, in truth; he was being only somewhat sincere. “It was insensitive of me.” He finished before turning to discard the tool he had used. “That must have been really difficult for you and the Commander… finding out that way and how quickly the decision was made. Jeeze…” Ezrah was slowly becoming aware that he was saying a lot of the wrong things. “I’m not really good at interacting with other people… Sorry if I made it worse. Maybe you should go after him.” He urged.

“It wasn’t insensitive; it doesn’t bother me, but I couldn’t let you get away with it without at least a comment,” Rodham replied, with something of a smirk. “I told the commander that he has to make friends on this ship; you won’t be in subspace radio range forever. If you think about what he and I are going through and what you and… you know… are going through, you might find that you have more in common than you thought,” he continued, in a more serious tone.

Ezrah thought about McHotty’s statement for a long moment, cocking his head to the side as he carefully considered its implications. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right… in a way, perhaps we both could understand each other on the same level.” He paused, wiping the dirt from either palm of his hand on both thighs. He shook his head then, “meh, why’d he wants someone like me around anyway? He’s exceptionally smart… several years older, I doubt he’d want some ‘kid’ tagging along trying to cheer him up while he’s here and you’re off gallivanting around the cosmos on the Discovery. Although, I guess we’d be doing our own gallivanting…” He countered his own argument, another bad habit. “I don’t know what you say to someone who’s lonely… I’m still trying to figure out how to deal with myself.” He said, with an awkward openness.

“Woah, flyboy, pull it back,” Rodham said, holding up his hand for a moment. “I didn’t say that you should talk about how lonely you both are, until you’re so depressed that you collapse into yourselves as a singularity,” he said, shaking his head a bit. “Just… be nice to him. Don’t think like a cadet; think like an Ensign,” he said, poking the younger man in his rank insignia. “Do… whatever it is you do for fun,” he added, with a shrug. “And don’t tell him I talked to you… or I’ll tell him you think he’s steamy,” the commander said, only half-jokingly.

“Alright, alright….” Ezrah grinned broadly, gently swatting McHotty’s hand away. “I get it and I’ll try. And don’t you dare… there’s not a corner of this ship he doesn’t know, so there’d be no place for me to run and hide. Besides…” Ezrah’s grin broadened further, “we had a nickname for you too.”

“We?” Rodham asked, crossing his arms for a moment.

He nodded, “yup.” Was his only response. During the inquisition, even though its most difficult periods, the only aspect of the process that both he and Audrey could agree on was that Rodham was a hotty, which then produced the nickname ‘McHotty’. Through the use of the nickname, Audrey and Ezrah discovered their only form of true respite from the rigors of endless questioning and investigating. It was a common ground where both stood, even if it was only used to provide a quick laugh. Ezrah couldn’t contain a soft giggle that escaped in just remembering; it was the one good thing that came out of the entire ordeal.

“I’ll let you keep that secret for now, Ensign,” Rodham said, looking at him. He closed the panel he was working on. “Now, I am going to go bring the Commander lunch. You, little Ensign, are going to clean up, and make a list of what still needs to be done, so it can be finished later. Groovy?” he asked, as he ran a hand through his messy blond hair.

Ezrah simply nodded an affirmative, watching as McHotty left him to the clean-up and cataloguing, as well as some things to think over and consider.

The Commander looked at him for a moment, his green eyes scanning him, looking as if he was going to say something else, but he turned on his heel and left the launch bay.


Friday, February 7th, 2155

Palais District, Paris, France, Europe, Earth

“I cannot believe you’re doing this.”

Ned Hennessy continued perusing the books on the shelf in his apartment, occasionally pulling one off, examining its cover and then stooping to lay it in a small Starfleet-issue cargo crate near his feet. He was seemingly oblivious to the question posed to him by the younger man leaning up against a small breakfast bar.

“Did you see me pack my copy of Rigellian Cuneiform?” Hennessy asked.

“Uhmmm…” Charlie Wise, Ned’s assistant in the department of linguistic interpreters at United Earth Headquarters, looked around the apartment and finally spied a thick book lying discarded on the kitchen table. He grabbed it and proffered it to Ned. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” Ned said, tucking it in the crate as well. Space in the box was getting less and less, and he still had to secure the lid. “I can’t really believe it either.”

Ned looked down his chest at the blue Starfleet jumpsuit he was wearing. Three months ago, he had been civil servant Ned Hennessy, an executive staff interpreter for United Earth. Then a chance meeting with a Starfleet recruiter looking for linguistics experts gave him an idea. At first, Ned looked at it as a marriage of convenience. In return for three months in training, learning the ins and outs of subspace radio and being tortured under the boot heel of a sadistic Starfleet physical training instructor, he would get access to the latest in translation equipment and be put on the front line of making contact with new species, parsing their languages and adding them to the growing universal translator database. Today he would report to NX-03, the Challenger, for duty as chief communications officer.

“Ensign Hennessy,” Charlie said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Do you know how much older you are than a cadet coming out of the Presidio?”

“No,” Ned answered. “Do me a favour and keep it to yourself.”

For as hard a time as Charlie had been giving Ned about his career move, the younger man was making out pretty good in the deal. He would be housesitting for Ned on an indefinite basis, which was a significant step up for him since he was currently sharing an apartment with three other UE junior level staffers. Ned’s apartment was not swank compared to other accommodations in Paris, but it was a step up from Charlie’s communal living situation. 

Ned’s overly round eyes continued scanning the shelves, his mouth in a grimace as though he thought he had forgotten something. He already had packed both volumes of Latin Grammar, Stolba’s third edition of Xenolinguistics: A Survey, A Comparative Study of Glyphs, a sheaf of his own handwritten notes made over the years and the piece de resistance, the artifact that started Ned Hennessy on the road to his career: a handwritten monograph with a decidedly Vulcan look to it. Not knowing what it was, he had bought it in a bazaar on Alpha Centauri, many years ago when he was still in university there. Ned loved a mystery, and the document fascinated him. He began the painstaking task of translating it, which was made more difficult by the fact that every Vulcan he showed it to tried to take it away from him. Eventually, as his skills in translation improved, he realized why. The title of the work was “Vulcanian Sexual Dysfunction.”

He was about to turn his gaze away from the shelf when he spied another book: Costello’s Standard Sign Language.

Charlie must have seen him grab it. “Why would you need that?” he asked.

“Because I’m sure some species have evolved beyond the need for speech,” Ned replied. “Think about it. If you could avoid having to communicate verbally, wouldn’t you?”

“Good point,” Charlie said. 

Ned dropped the book in the crate, picked the lid up off the floor and secured it in place, sealing the box. He stepped into his bedroom and emerged a moment later with a large duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a brown tabby cat tucked under an arm. The cat mewed impatiently as Ned put it into a separate crate marked “LIVE SPECIMEN.” It was the closest thing that Starfleet had to a pet carrier. Captain Burton had been nice enough to allow Ned to bring Zephyr along. The cat had been Ned’s sole companion these last few years. Zephyr had been among the only things his wife had not taken in the divorce.

Ned stacked the makeshift cat carrier and cargo crate onto a luggage cart and took the handle.

“I guess this is it,” he said, picking up the crate with its handles. “Wish me luck.”

“I don’t believe in luck,” Charlie said. He gave Ned a casual salute. “Safe travels, Ensign.”

Ned nodded and proceeded out of his apartment.

Charles de Gaulle Starport, Paris, France, Europe, Earth

The mass transit flitter settled to the ground in front of the terminal at de Gaulle. Ned Hennessy lumbered out with the rest of the passengers into the rainy afternoon. He hoisted the Starfleet duffel bag over his shoulder and made his way inside the massive terminal building.

Following the atomic war, in which Charles de Gaulle International Airport was nearly completely destroyed, there was a national effort by the French people to rise from the ashes, restoring such landmarks as the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, the Arc de Triomphe. The airport was successfully replicated and when Paris was chosen as the seat of government for the United Earth organization, it was decided that De Gaulle would become one of the planet’s first major starports.

Ned moved through the starport quickly. At the sight of his uniform, a local security officer waved him to a security queue for Starfleet personnel. When he passed through the scanner he approached one of the agents at a nearby desk.

“De la façon de la Starfleet se kiosque?”

The agent pointed down a cavernous tunnel with a high arched ceiling. Ned began moving again.

Cargo stewards from the Warp 5 Complex had picked up his crate and Zephyr. The stewards assured him, repeatedly, both would be waiting for him in his quarters when he arrived on the Challenger. He reluctantly let them take the crates away, not completely comfortable with being parted with his books, cat and other belongings.

Once again Ned stood in queue, waiting to speak with the Starfleet flight detailer. When it was his turn he stepped up to the counter.

“Je suis censé être le passage à la Challenger,” he said.

“Oh, I speak Standard, sir” said the young enlisted woman wearing red piping.

“Well, what if I didn’t? What then?” Ned replied tersely.

She gave a nervous laugh and asked for his identification, which Ned provided.

“A shuttlepod should be en route from Challenger, sir,” she said. “You can wait over there.” She pointed to a cluster of seats where other uniformed men and women, mostly human, sat waiting to be ferried into orbit.

“Thank you,” he said.

After finding a seat, Ned dropped the duffel bag on the floor in front of him and waited.

Charlie had been partially right. What Ned was doing was absolutely out of character for him. To leave a comfortable government job where the dynamics were unchanging day to day was either a bold move or a cry for help. But there were few walls he was going to break down translating the same language over and over again at United Earth Headquarters. Even if the so-called Coalition of Planets ever formed, eventually the technology would render his skills obsolete. 

But in space, out there, there was “new life, new civilizations,” as they had been drilled in officer training. And someone had to figure out a way to talk to those people. 

“Charles de Gaulle Spaceport, this is Challenger Shuttlepod One inbound at coordinates bearing three-two-four mark seven and currently holding course at port speed. Requesting clearance for landing to retrieve times one passenger. I’m standing by to transmit official clearance codes.”

Ezrah adjusted the manual helm controls to ensure that all coordinates were matched and maintained until such time that clearance was granted. The shuttlepod shuddered slightly as it passed through a thick plumb of grey clouds, water droplets splattering against the forward viewport as the dinging of raindrops pinged against the crafts metal body filled the aft passenger compartment.

Shuttlepod One, this is Air Traffic Control, we have you on scanners. Please transmit clearance codes and prepare to land at these coordinates.”

As Ezrah started to transmit his clearance codes, the flight transmitter started to upload a small data package. Saving and then opening the data file, Ezrah acknowledged receipt of the package and inputted the landing coordinates. “Package received, de Gaulle ATC. I’m adjusting course to comply.”

Acknowledged Shuttlepod One; clearance codes have been verified and deemed genuine. You’re clear to land. On behalf of Paris France, Bonjour and accuiel.”

Within moments, Ezrah had landed the shuttlepod at the designated coordinates and awaited the terminal-docking arm to extend. Transferring all systems over to standby, Ezrah manoeuvred from the pilot’s seat and went to the port hatch. Releasing the seals, a soft hiss indicated that the internal atmosphere had equalized to that of Earth’s. Unlatching the door, the port opened and Ezrah soon met with a pair of starport security officers just beyond the opened hatch.

Verifying his credentials, the two waved him on as they remained outside either side of the open port, ensuring the craft’s security until such time as Ezrah’s return.

Stepping into the main terminal of the busy and crowded starport, Ezrah approached a nearby information booth to speak with the Crewman manning the station.

“Excuse me, I’m here to retrieve an Ensign Hennessy and ferry him to the Challengerdocked at the Warp Five Complex.” He remarked smoothly.

The Crewman acknowledged with a soft nod of the head before speaking into a device that he assumed was a microphone of some kind. “Your attention please. Shuttlepod to the Challengerpreparing to disembark at sixteen-fifty hours; passenger Hennessy to Terminal Alpha-One-A. Repeat, passenger Hennessy to Terminal Alpha-One-A. Thank you.”

Ezrah expressed his appreciation to the Crewman before moving back towards the open terminal door, hands clasped at his front as he surveyed the faces of those passing or seated nearby.

A gangly, middle-aged man with a severe face highlighted by a round pair of spectacles approached the desk. He had a duffel bag over one shoulder and was wearing the insignia of an ensign in the sciences division.

“Hennessy,” he said to the crewman behind the counter, who then pointed to Alcott. Ned walked over to the other ensign. “I suppose you’re my ride?”

Ezrah turned towards the older man, “Ensign Hennessy, I presume?” His tone was jovial and presence more than approachable. “It’s a pleasure to meet you! Ensign Ezrah Alcott at your service. Here… the shuttlepod is this way.” He gestured towards the open hatchway behind, holding out an arm, he offered to accept Hennessy’s duffel so that he could stow it on the Ensign’s behalf.

Hennessy fished out a small book from one of the duffel bags’ outer pockets before handing the bag to Alcott.

“Thank you,” he said and followed the pilot toward the open hatch. “I’m not used to leaving this place at my own convenience.”

Ezrah smiled politely towards Hennessy as they both walked the egress towards the shuttlepod, “well, enjoy it while you can… from this moment forward our movements are at the convenience of Starfleet and Captain Burton.” He chuckled at this as they arrived at the open port to the craft. “Will this be your first time flying in a shuttlepod?”

“Yes,” Hennessy replied, suddenly getting a concerned look on his face. “Please tell me this isn’t yours too.”

“Heh, no. Not at all!” Ezrah remarked, gently patting his counterpart’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, it’s not as scary as some make it out to be.” The two boarded the craft, Ezrah immediately stowing Hennessy’s luggage in the rear storage compartment located under the starboard passenger bench. “What’s that that you’re reading?” He inquired thoughtfully, noting the book that the Ensign had pulled from within the canvas bag just prior to their arrival on board the shuttlepod.

“Oh, this?” Ned looked down at the book before scrutinizing the interior of the shuttlepod as he found a seat. “It’s a book on signing. Nonverbal communication was invented so that deaf people could communicate with each other. I’ve devoted the better part of my life to studying ancient and alien spoken and written languages; I figured odds are at some point we’re going to encounter a species that doesn’t use either one. So…” He looked to either side of the cushion he was sitting on. “Does this thing have seatbelts?”

There was no hesitation in Ezrah’s response; almost immediately, he signed that the shuttlepod did, indeed, have seatbelts and where Hennessy could find them.

Hennessy looked quizzically at the younger man, as though he thought Alcott was having fits.

“I’m sorry. Seatbelts, Ensign?”

A perplexed expression drew across his face, brow furrowed. “So, you study and read about it, but you don’t sign?” He asked curiously, unsure of why it was that Hennessy didn’t understand what it was he signed; he called into question the deliberateness and clearness of his own hand gestures, wondering if perhaps the speed in which he signed had confused the linguist. “And yes, the seatbelts are tucked into the back of the cushion.” He finished before slipping into the pilot’s chair.

“Well, give me time, Ensign.” Ned signed in reply to Alcott’s spoken words. “I’ve only just started learning.”

He began strapping himself in, pulling the buckles tight against his frame. “I’m curious, though,” he said verbally, “how you came to sign. Are you a- What is the word? A CODA? Children of deaf adults?”

“Ah, so you’re just starting to learn the language then?” Ezrah asked excitedly. “I can help teach you, if you’d like. It’s far easier to learn first-hand rather than through study… at least, I think or perhaps in my own personal experience that is.” He pondered this for a moment before replying to Hennessy’s question. “No, not at all. My mother is a mute and I was too until about age four. My entire family, including the extended portion, are rather fluent because of this.” The Ensign started to coordinate the shuttlepods departure with the de Gaulle ATC while also sending a notification to the Warp Five Complex and the Challenger.

“I’ve been amazed at how intuitive some of it is,” Hennessy replied, and he went through the signs for morning, afternoon and evening. “I guarantee you we’re going to encounter a species for whom nonverbal communication is going to mean the difference between war and peace.”

Ezrah grinned, glancing over his shoulder. “I’m absolutely certain you’re most likely correct; with you and I on the case though, let’s hope we could combine our mutual expertise to avert all-out war… I’m far too young to die.” He quipped. In truth, he was completely uncertain if such a species even existed, but that was the entire purpose for the Starfleet… scientific exploration and discovery. He just hoped that the International Sign Language would come in at least a little handy should such a first contact occur. “Are you all strapped in?” He asked curiously as he brought thrusters online to warm.

After closing his eyes briefly and crossing himself, Ned indicated that he was.

Ezrah chuckled to himself, returning his attention to the flight controls. “de Gaulle ATC, this is ChallengerShuttlepod One requesting final clearance verification for departure.”

Acknowledged Shuttlepod One; you’re cleared for departure. Good luck and Godspeed.” Came the short, yet polite reply.

A departure vector had been cleared through the ATC, so as the terminal-docking arm retracted and full power was distributed to all shuttlepod systems, Ezrah activated the thrusters and began their ascent along the de Gaulle fairway.

“Due to the weather, we’ll probably experience a bit more turbulence than what’s customarily expected. Just try to relax, we’ll pass through it soon enough.” Ezrah offered, hoping that doing so would help his Ensign counterpart relax a bit when they did encounter the turbulent atmospheric conditions.

“Oh well,” Hennessy said, a tone of resignation in his voice. “It beats the hell out of having my molecules broken down and reassembled by that damnable contraption. As if that will ever catch on.”

As if on cue, the pod hit a band of turbulence. It bucked and Ned lurched forward in his seat as much as the straps would allow.

“Then again, it might be an up-and-coming transit method.”

Ezrah laughed at Hennessy’s statement as the shuttlepod passed through another thicket of cloud cover. “Don’t lose faith in me just yet, we’re almost there.” It took another five minutes before the craft pulled through Earth’s ionosphere as it continued towards the Warp 5 Complex in orbit of the planet; no longer surrounded by the dark skies of the poor weather conditions blanketing Paris, they were now enveloped in vast darkness. As the craft broke through the gravity barrier, the vibrations stopped altogether, giving way to a very smooth transition.

“There, see… not a thing at all really.” He commented before glancing over a shoulder, “how are you feeling? Hopefully not too shaken, maybe just a little stirred?” He asked with a friendly smile.

Hennessy sat with eyes closed, hands clamped on his knees, white knuckles. He opened his eyes slowly and glanced up toward the cockpit. He lifted his feet as though testing the gravity and then unlatched the belts holding him in. He stood up slowly and made his way up to stand behind the young pilot. 

“Well, that was worth the rough ride,” he said looking out the domed canopy at the orbital dry-dock of the Warp Five Complex. “Nice view.”

Ezrah followed Hennessy’s gaze, smiling as his eyes fixated on the Warp FiveComplex. “Just wait until you see what’s inside.” He replied softly.

As the shuttlepod inched closer, their view became even more spectacular as the complex increased in size, giving way to the minute details in its composition; more so, both men were now able to view the Challenger, held captive within the complex’s exposed interior cage. “There she is.”

He pointed towards the ship, “home.” He remarked just as simply as he piloted the shuttlepod, so it now approached the shipyard head-on, revealing the NX-class ship from its forward profile.

Challenger, this is Shuttlepod One carrying precious cargo requesting clearance to dock.”

Shuttlepod One, this is Challenger Flight Operations; please transmit clearance codes and standby for final authorization.”

Ezrah depressed several commands into the computer data bank, pulling the necessary data and then transmitting to the mothership.

“Transmitting as we speak, Flight Operations.” He replied.

Clearance codes received and authenticated. Shuttlepod One you’re cleared to dock in berth one; launch bay doors are open and the deployment arm extended. Welcome home.

Ezrah nodded, “Acknowledged Challenger. Our approach vector is to zero-four-seven mark one-zero to berth one.” Ezrah’s hands danced over the flight controls as he piloted the small craft to the underbelly of the Challenger, adjusted the crafts orientation and then used ventral thrusters to slowly propel the shuttlepod vertically until a soft vibration gently reverberated internally, signalling that the deployment arm had successfully engaged and locked with the shuttlepods latching collar.

Shuttlepod One, power down your engines, we’ll take you the rest of the way in.”

Ezrah grinned, already doing so. “Cutting engines and thrusters, powering down all propulsion systems.” As he started to shunt power from the propulsion systems, he then systematically started to power down each system on board as the craft was smoothly pulled into Challenger.

“Welcome to Challenger.” Ezrah said, turning in the chair to face Hennessy as he extended his hand once more.

The older Ensign returned the gesture, shaking the pilot’s hand. “Thank you for the lift, Ensign.”

“No problem, I’m here to serve.” He countered with a subtle tip of the head. “You’ll want to see the Quartermaster relatively soon to square away your quarters and luggage. But otherwise, I’m sure Captain Burton or Commander Levesque is floating around the ship… somewhere.” He recommended before turning around, continuing the post-flight systems checks.

“I’m actually anxious to see that my cat arrived safely, but thank you for the recommendations,” Hennessy answered.

Ezrah gestured to the passenger bench, “Don’t forget your bag.” He said with a smile. While the Ensign went about retrieving his personal property, Ezrah ensured that the cabin was pressurized to equal that of the Challenger‘s internal pressure and then unlatched the starboard hatch and opened it to the catwalk outside.

“I’m sure I’ll see you around, Ensign,” Alcott heard from Hennessy’s retreating form as the communications officer disembarked the small craft and climbed the catwalk.

Waving, Ezrah bid Hennessy farewell as he returned his attention to the shuttlepod.

The Exo-Biological Sciences lab had quite an impressive set up. The main lab was quite spacious and like the rest of Challenger’s systems contained some of the most advanced systems in Starfleet. Despite the grand nature of the main lab, the real stars of the department were the specimen testing lab’s two molecular imaging benches, which like the imaging chamber used in sickbay, allowed the lab to scan and upload an image of a specimen or a containment unit into the ships computers. 

Ensign Nigel Duffy felt very privileged to have gotten the assignment. It was rare for someone with so little experience, only a couple of years out of training, to be assigned to a specialty division. Although an honour, it also had some drawbacks; being the most junior member of the bio department meant that he got all the worst assignments. At that particular moment he had been tasked with checking their equipment and supplies. Commander Levesque had ordered all the departments to double check everything and Duffy had drawn the short straw. Luckily the Bio department had been largely on top of their section and he had been able to go through the inventory in just six hours. 

“Excuse me, Ensign Duffy?” He heard the familiar voice of Petty Officer Zahra Alinejad, the senior research assistant. Duffy may have been new, but he was smart enough to know that Zahra was not bringing him good news.

“Yeah what’s up…” He asked, going silent as soon as he saw the rather large Live Specimen container being placed on the bench. “Zahra, what’s in the box?”

“I really don’t know. It was brought up in the shuttle run and somebody said to bring it here.”

“Did Ensign Kalju say anything to you about it?”

“No.”

“What about Commander Levesque?” Duffy asked, beginning to examine the box.

“Oh yeah, right before she invited me to the Captain’s mess for dinner.” Zahra replied using as deadpan a voice as she could.

“That’s weird. One of them would have told us if we were getting something aboard so soon…” Duffy said to himself, while still looking the container over for anything that would indicate what if anything was inside. 

“Ok, let’s open it.” he said.

“Yeah… wait what? Are you sure that’s such a good idea?” 

“It’ll be fine.” Duffy said as he released the latches on either side of the container and tugged on the lid. “It doesn’t say it contains anything hazardous.” As soon as the lid was off, a ball of brown fur launched itself out of the container and propelled itself off Duffy’s head and onto one of the storage racks. Picking himself up off the floor Duffy followed the wide-eyed look on Zahra’s face and along the path of destruction left by the furry beast he had just unleashed on Challenger

“-and maybe if I kept my brain in a pickle jar on a shelf, I might have a stellar career as a Starfleet cargo steward.” Ned Hennessy was muttering as he walked hurriedly from his quarters. He had told the people who had taken Zephyr in his crate that even though it was marked “LIVE SPECIMEN,” it was to be delivered to Ned’s own quarters and not the science lab or sickbay. He had said that twice, to the visible annoyance of the cargo stewards. His tenure as an active duty Starfleet officer was not beginning well.

Ned dodged crewmembers that were navigating the corridors themselves, some carrying heavy engineering equipment in preparation for the vessel’s launch, others, like him, who were just reporting in. He continued his muttering and walking, turning corners. After a while, he stopped, realizing that in all the rush he had walked around far too long not to have found a lift.

“I’ve gone and gotten myself lost,” he said to himself.

As if to punctuate Ned’s gaffe, a passing crewmember shoved into him on his way past.

“Sorry, sir.”

Ned ignored the apology and backtracked. A few moments later he was standing in front of a lift station, waiting for the car to arrive. When it did, he stepped in. He knew where he was going to start looking for his wayward feline.

“How could there be a creature loose in the Bio lab? We don’t even have any creatures aboard to be loose.” Levesque said as she and Ensign Joona Kalju jogged down B deck’s port side corridor toward the Bio Science Lab. 

“I don’t understand it either ma’am, but the call I got was that there was some creature loose in the science lab.”

“Do we have any more specific details about this creature?”

“Apparently it’s a fuzzy creature ma’am.”

“This is a joke. It’s got to be a joke…” Levesque muttered to herself as they continued down the corridor.

The door to the exo-biological sciences lab snapped open and an older ensign with spectacles and buggy eyes strode into the compartment.

 “Hello? Has anyone seen a cat?” he called out.

“A Cat?” Duffy said whipping around so fast he almost dropped the net he was holding. 

“Yes. A cat,” Hennessey replied woodenly. “Brown tabby, white bib, white mittens.” He looked at the open live specimen container. There was the remainder of adhesive where a label had been ripped off. He pointed to the specimen container. “He was traveling in that.”

 “Why would there be a cat in a Live Specimen Container?”

“That is an excellent question, Mister Duffy.” Levesque said, making her presence known to the room. Despite how annoyed she was, looking at the state of her officers and the Bio Sciences lab, Levesque couldn’t help but chuckle. Boxes were toppled, Petty Officer Alinejad and the research assistants all looked pretty frazzled and Duffy was sporting several nasty looking scratches. There was no way this was an ordinary cat.

“Duffy go to sickbay and get those cuts looked at. Mister Hennessy,” Leveseque said acknowledging the new Chief Communications Officer. “I assume that the cat who tore up this lab is our quadrupedal passenger, Zephyr?”

“Yes. Brown tabby, white bib, white mittens,” Hennessey repeated. “Ten-year-old male, neutered. He was supposed to be delivered to my quarters. Where is he?”

“He’s hiding in the stacks Ensign,” Alinejad said, pointing to one of the deep shelves situated against the wall. “After leading us on quite a chase he hid himself back there. When Ensign Duffy tried to get him out…well you both saw what happened.”

“Hennessey, think you can get him out of there?” Nicole asked once again, turning to the older officer. 

The communications officer unzipped a pocket of his jumpsuit and removed a plastic bag. He unsealed the bag and poured a few small, cubed morsels into his hand. Wordlessly, he walked into the stacks.

“Zephyr, it’s okay,” he called out. He appeared to be listening intently. Then, he did something unexpected, making high-pitched meowing sounds.

Almost as soon as Hennessy started, a muffled meow emitted from a shelf behind a crate of supplies. Hennessy reached his open palm up to the shelf. After a few moments, a pair of yellow eyes appeared in the shadows, followed by a furry face that bent to the treats in Hennessy’s palm.

The ensign emerged from the lab stacks, holding the cat so that they were face to face. 

“You are a wilful animal,” he said, to which the cat simply replied with a “mew.”

Hennessy tucked the cat securely under his arm. He surveyed the damage Zephyr had done in the lab. “Oh, my.”

“Oh my? Ensign I don’t think ‘oh my’ is an adequate description of what I’m seeing here.” Nicole said, tilting her head toward the back of the room hoping that Hennessy would understand her subtle gesture and follow her to the secluded spot away from the others. 

 “Ensign, I’m not entirely sure how your cat got loose in my lab and frankly, at this moment, I don’t really care. Normally, I’d have your head for this but because you are rather new to Starfleet and because this probably isn’t entirely your fault, I’m willing to overlook it.”

“Not entirely my fault? It wasn’t my fault at all! If those monkeys in cargo hadn’t-“

“Hey, I don’t want to hear it! I just cut you a lot of slack here mister, but you are coming dangerously close to losing any good will you might have left with me. If that’s how you want this all to go down that’s fine with me. But I’d rather stick with a simple unofficial admonishment of all parties, how does that sound to you Ensign?” Levesque asked her patience wearing thin.

“Adequate, ma’am,” Hennessy replied, although his tone suggested it was anything but. 

“Good, now why don’t you take Zephyr up to sickbay and make sure he is unharmed. Oh, and you may want to check in on Ensign Duffy. And once you are through in sickbay make sure Zephyr is secure in your quarters and that he won’t be able to escape again. 

“He won’t,” Hennessy said through clenched teeth.

“And can you guess what I expect you to do after all of that Mister Hennessy?” Nicole asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I don’t know. Swab the deck?”

“Nothing so absurd. No, once you are finished, I want you to come back down to the lab and see what you can do to help put things back together. Now that isn’t too much to ask, is it?” 

“Not at all,” the linguist replied, plastering a smile across his face. 

“I’m glad to hear it Ensign, now get going.”

Hennessy nodded, pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose and, with Zephyr still securely tucked under his arm, disappeared through the door and into the corridor beyond.

EIGHT

Challenger NX-03
Saturday February 8th, 2155

“So, Admiral Gardner will make his speech and then he’ll play the video of Doctor Cochrane’s speech at the ground-breaking of the Warp Five Complex. This will be your cue to lead the senior staff from the observation deck and to board Challenger.”

Captain Lloyd Burton was standing in front of the long wall mounted mirror in his quarters getting changed into his uniform jumpsuit. While he was pulling it over his shoulders his Yeoman, Crewmember First Class Jamie Harris was explaining to him the step-by-step guide to what was going to happen during the Challenger’s official launch ceremony. 

“Is the Foreign Secretary joining us then?” Burton asked as he pulled up the middle zip on his uniform. Normally he wouldn’t dare to be having a meeting with Harris while he was getting changed but he got back late from his family’s gathering last night, he had overslept and Challenger was going to be launched in two hours’ time.

Harris, who was sitting at the captain’s desk, was reading off from the computer tablet with all the details on it. He pressed a few buttons to look over the day’s schedule and found the answer. “No. Once Challenger is launched, we’re to enter orbit and the Secretary’s transport will dock with us once she has left Paris.”

Burton nodded, reminding himself of that fact as a mental note. The entire schedule for the day’s events had changed several times over the last few days and they had only received the latest update three hours ago. Luckily though Harris had been up and was able to prepare the captain. “The last revision I saw, it stated the Foreign Secretary wasn’t expecting a formal greeting party. Is that still the same?”

Harris nodded quickly this time. “She has stated she doesn’t want to, and I quote here, ‘all the pomp and circus are not needed when a crucial mission needs to get underway’. She is still adamant she doesn’t want to pile any more pressure than what you and the rest of us are already under, especially with this being our shakedown cruise and first mission.”

Burton was now pushing the creases out of his uniform as he checked himself out in his reflection. “Secretary Campbell seems to be quite the approachable person from what I’ve read, heard and seen.” He commented.

“Yes sir. Once she is on board, we are expected to depart Earth orbit at once and then meet the joint task group on the edges of the Sol system. Then we will be on our way to Denobula.” Harris included. “Once the Secretary is settled on board you, Commanders Levesque and Stanton will be sharing lunch with her.” He added.

“Do we have the Secretary’s diet requirements?” Burton asked as he sat on the edge of his bed to put his boots on. 

“We do sir. Chef Lawson has already received her details and those for the rest of her staff. Stewards have also been assigned to them if they require anything, but the Secretary has informed us her staff is aware they shouldn’t get in our way of running the ship.” Harris answered.

“How many members of staff is she bringing?” Lloyd inquired as he put on his left boot. 

“Four.” He returned before explaining whom. “That includes her chief of staff, her personal assistant and two other advisors.”

“Right, between you and our new communication’s officer ensure the crew are all briefed on what is expected on board.” Burton ordered. “Is there anything else that has changed Jamie?”

Harris shook his head. “No sir. I’ll upload and send the new schedule to the rest of the senior staff.”

Now dressed, the captain stood back up. “Thank you, Jamie. I’m going to go and grab a very quick breakfast and do the final tour. I’ll see you at half past nine for the pre-launch gathering.” 

Harris rose from his chair too. “Thank you, sir.” He said and then left the captain alone. 

Burton took one more glance at himself in the mirror. He looked slightly odd. He had shaved the normal short stubble he would wear, and his uniform looked more formal than it normally did. He took one more deep breath before leaving his room and making his way to the mess hall to grab a mug of tea and a bacon sandwich for his breakfast.


Subconsciously, he felt the light touch of fingertips brushing against the bare curve of his side, running along the length of his ribcage. The gentle touch elicited a reaction, goosebumps rose as he stirred with a soft moan. Drawing open each eye, he blinked repeatedly in an attempt to will away the fatigue that seemed to invisibly coat his body. “Hi.” His voice was very soft, barely above a whisper.

“Hey yourself.” Her voice rivalled his softness yet was beautifully vibrant none-the-less. She grinned, framing perfectly white teeth as raven-coloured hair cascaded around the hand that pressed into a cheek, an elbow perching her onto her side as she closely watched the boy, at least thirty years her youth.

Alcott reached out to pull her close, their naked bodies pressing together intimately. Her back to him, he leaned in to lay a kiss onto the smooth, supple skin of her shoulder. He breathed deeply, taking in the faint scent of lilac, the woman’s preferred scent of shampoo.

“Sleep well?” She asked.

He murmured an affirmative as he buried his nose into the nook of her neck, laying tender kisses along its taught length. The tightness in his embrace intensified as his mood changed from fatigue to an excitement only known to a boy.

She chuckled at feeling this change, wiggling her hips in such a way as to excite him further. For a moment, she remained still but then slowly pulled away. At first, he believed it was a game of teasing, but when she pulled her naked form from the bed and started to dress, he quirked an inquisitive eyebrow.

She turned to face him, pulling on her brazier. “I’ve to admit, I let you sleep a bit longer than you should have.” She giggled mischievously.

Brow furrowed, he turned to glance at the chronometer.

“Audrey!” He yelped in frustrated shock, hastily pulling himself from the bed. “I’m going to be late for the christening ceremony.” He stated flatly, forgetting his body’s current state as he rushed around the room to find all of his discarded clothing.

“You looked so peaceful and, well, after last night’s… extracurricular activities, I thought you could use the extra five minutes.” She grinned, zipping up her own uniform jumpsuit. “Besides, you’ll make it in plenty of time.”

He shook his head, “I can’t find them.”

“Find what?” She asked inquisitively, yet already knowing.

“My briefs… where did they go?” He replied, glancing under the bed.

She simply shrugged, a bemused grin accentuating the sharpness of her cheekbones. Audrey pulled her hair into a tight ponytail as she turned to glance in the mirror. Adjusting either sleeve cuff and smoothing out a wrinkle, she turned to pass behind Ezrah, gently slapping his rear as she made for the door.

“I can see myself out, love.”

Ezrah stopped, pulling himself prone and immediately going to Audrey. The stark contrast of clothed to nude would have tantalized any onlooker. “Thank you.” He needn’t have said anything more; both invariably understood the nonverbal exchange. The last two days would be the last the two would share genuine time with one another. Prior to Ezrah leaving with the Captain for his meeting at Starfleet Command several days prior, he’d received an communiqué from Audrey that she was on a short leave from the Columbiato take care of some family business prior to the ships departure for their next mission, one of a diplomatic nature that was to work in conjunction with that of Challenger‘s. Audrey skirted the details, affirming that Ezrah would learn the specifics from Captain Burton soon enough.

In truth, after Audrey had been reassigned to Columbia as their helmsman, he hadn’t thought he’d ever see her again; the very nature of the NX-class was to remain out of port for extended periods of time, conducting missions of peaceful space exploration and scientific discovery. Although her absence hurt him terribly, he understood this to be an inherent part of a Starfleet officer’s duty. In her own defence, Audrey hadn’t wished to have absent from her lover; but duty came first and there was really nothing she could have done to change this very complicated fact. Circumstances, however, had benefited both and the two had taken ample advantage of the situation for one last chance to see each other.

“Good luck, Ezie.” She hugged him tightly, the two sharing one last kiss before she turned to leave. Since his second year at the STC, Audrey had looked out for Ezrah not simply in a professional and mentoring capacity, but also a very intimate one. The relationship had elevated to a level that their ability to keep it a secret had become terribly difficult. As her own superiors started to question the relationship, Audrey knew that the only way to protect both of their careers was to apply for a reassignment away from the STC. In the beginning, the two had attempted to maintain the relationship, but found it more than cumbersome due to their respective responsibilities and duties. At the end of his third year at the STC, Audrey and Ezrah had mutually decided that the relationship could no longer thrive under these conditions and that they should take a break. Although it hurt both terribly to admit this, they knew it was the only viable option. 

That didn’t, however, stay them from taking advantage of one another’s company if and when the opportunity arose. Ezrah was delighted to see Audrey after so long. He’d even gone so far as to sneak her on board the Challengerso they could share in one another’s company. It was a risk he was willing to take, even if for one last goodbye.

Turning, he sat on the very edge of the bed as the doors to his personal quarters closed. His eyes remained intent on the place where Audrey had just stood. They took on a misty characteristic before he tried to shake the sadness away. Although it hurt him to see Audrey go, he didn’t have time to think about those feelings. He’d stow them away to cope later. For now, he had a ceremony to get to.

“Now, where did I leave those briefs?”


Commander Stanton was sitting in a corner of the mess hall, with a table to himself as he worked on his breakfast; he was barely aware of what he was eating, as he tried to balance his mind between the technical manuals that was in front of him with the recent sting of having to say goodbye to his partner. Lieutenant Commander Rodham had left early in the morning, so that he could pilot one of the shuttlepods carrying admirals and other guests to the ceremony – a condition of his leave, and they would not be able to see each other again before the ship departed, except from the observation deck of the Warp Five Complex.

He pushed around some oatmeal unenthusiastically, before abandoning it and trying some of the bacon on his plate. He did have to admit that the food was good, at least, aboard Challenger, but he was not especially excited to be leaving; unlike every other soul on the ship. Of everyone aboard, it was very probable that he wanted his job the least, at least at that particular moment in time.

Alcott stepped through the doors to the mess hall, adjusting the cuff to the right sleeve. He’d just returned from the launch bay, hoping to savour in a more proper goodbye; yet, Audrey had already managed to board the last of the remaining shuttlepods departing for Earth. Shuttlepods three and four were being used to ferry dignities and high-ranking officials from Earth to the Warp Five Complex prior to the start of the commissioning ceremony. He knew that Hathaway was piloting one of the two; the other however, he assumed, was being piloted by a representative from Starfleet Command, perhaps Rodham.

It had been unusual seeing Rodham again, he was a part of Alcott’s past he’d have liked not to revisit. The circumstances in being reintroduced were even more bizarre. Yet, how could he fault Professor McSteamy and McHotty? They were, after all, a couple; it only made complete sense that they’d like to share in one another’s company as much as possible prior to the Challenger‘s departure. Who knew how’d long it be before both men managed to see one another again, especially with Rodham’s name being thrown into the lot for the final selection of the Discovery‘s helmsman? Contrary to the two men, who shared an eight-year relationship, Audrey and Ezrah didn’t share one any longer, not since before his graduation at least. This, well, this was merely a chance meeting for one last goodbye, one last chance to see each other before they both parted ways for who knows how long. It had been nice to see Audrey, but the experience had left a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The Ensign approached the food cabinets, opening one of the few that were marked eggs and bacon. He toasted a few slices of wheat toast and poured himself a glass of freshly squeezed tomato juice. A few pads of butter, a dollop of ketchup and a spoon full of grape jelly added to the plate finished off the meal. Gripping the handles to the tray, Alcott turned to see that the mess hall, to his own delight, was virtually empty. The cabin, nestled in silence, contained only two other occupants; a crewman he’d not met before and, in the far corner of the mess hall, Professor McSteamy.

Alcott bit his bottom lip, wondering if he should approach the Commander, who outwardly appeared utterly morose in his solitude. But perhaps he prefers a bit of privacy right now. Alcott thought before shaking the thought from his head and taking steps towards the Professor’s table, or I could simply do as McHotty had suggested and try to befriend the Professor.

“Excuse me, Professor, may I join you?” The uncharacteristic deep tenor of his own voice caught Ezrah somewhat off guard, but his tone was soft and the words polite none-the-less.

“Oh…sure,” the engineer replied, looking up from his technical manual. “You know, I’m not really a professor anymore,” he added, contemplatively. He surveyed the ensign for a moment, wishing very much that the incident the day before had been avoided; he hadn’t seen him since, and wasn’t especially keen on discussing it. Such indiscretions were not part of his normal personality, especially not around students, even if Ezrah was now an Ensign and not a Cadet, as he was a Commander and not a Professor.

Alcott shrugged as he set the tray down and pulled out the chair positioned beside the Commander. “Meh, you’ll always be a Professor to me; that is, if you don’t mind?” Ezrah understood it to be a slight breach to the decorum protocol, but it was difficult to envision Professor McSteamy as anything but an academic, perhaps in time that would change, but for now the title of Professor seemed more appropriate than, Commander or even Chief. The term also did well to place Alcott a bit more at ease both professionally and personally; he couldn’t quite understand why as of yet, perhaps the Professor served as a subtle form of regularity, something constant in a career filled with unknowns.

“If it makes you feel better,” Stanton replied, looking at him for another moment. He wasn’t demanding in respect to protocol, but he knew that there were lots of other crewmembers who had at least seen him as a professor, if not who had taken classes from him, over the past few years; he wondered if he’d be ‘Commander’ to anyone. “It does make me feel a little old, though,” he added, with only a small smile, as ate some more of his breakfast, slowly. “At least the food is good here,” he mused.

“Old?” Ezrah quipped with astonishment at the Professor’s confession. “You can be any more than, what, forty?” He jested, placing the white clothed napkin over his lap. “Although you’re looking remarkably well preserved…it must be all that…” Alcott looked over at the Professor’s meal, “oatmeal you’ve been eating.” Smearing a smaller amount of butter than grape jelly on a slice of toast, Ezrah took a bite from the bread corner as he grinned mischievously.

“When I graduated from college, you were twelve,” Stanton replied, attempting to sound disgruntled, though his nervous tick of fidgeting with his hair showed itself, before he had a chance to stop himself. He looked down and took a bite of his oatmeal. “Must be filled with chronitons,” he said, dryly.

Ezrah chuckled, “I guess it helps that I like ’em older.” The joke probably didn’t make any sense to the Professor, but it made Alcott laugh regardless. “So, I’m sorry about yesterday… really I am. I didn’t mean to offend.” He took a bite of eggs, avoiding the Professor’s gaze in the process.

“It’s ok; you meant well,” Stanton replied, softly. “It wasn’t especially commander-like for me to storm off,” he added, with a sigh. “Though, I’ve never really been all that commander-like.”

Alcott shrugged, “You certainly weren’t expecting this, were you?” He asked simply, gesturing with a fork around him, meaning the Challenger.

“I was expecting to be grading exams, right about now. The Challenger‘s an amazing ship, but I had planned on waiting for Discovery. Plans are fragile things, though,” the commander replied, after eating a piece of bacon. “I like the challenge; I just… well, you know. You know a lot about me… a lot more than most ensigns should know about commanders,” he added, half-smiling, as he thought about it.

“What do you mean?” Alcott cocked his head to the side, curious at the Professor’s proclamation. Alcott consumed another forkful of eggs, followed by a bite of toast.

“Sorry; that was sort of two different ideas,” Stanton said, quickly. “You know that I’m preoccupied, and you know… uh… stuff… about me, so I should shut up and stop rambling about my own issues; you should say something. That’s what I meant,” he explained, as he busied himself with his oatmeal, again.

Alcott couldn’t help the broad grin and chuckle at the Professor’s reply. “You’re about as tactful as I am at this whole… personal talk thing.” He joked, gently poking at the Professor’s bicep. “I think you and I can agree that we’re both in the same situation here… the only difference is, you haven’t seen me in all my glory whereas I… well, yeah.” He paused, blushing at the slip of tongue. “But! I think we can both help each other out. I have to admit, I don’t let people in very easily and I’m sort of a lamebrain at saying the wrong thing… at the wrong time… but if you’re up for it, I think we could be good for one another.” He urged.

“Well… I was ordered to make friends,” Stanton replied, somewhat cryptically. “I mean, yeah, it’s always good to talk,” he added, blushing a little for a number of reasons, including the fact that he had been touched, something that he didn’t normally like.

“I’d like for us to be friends, but not because we were ordered to.” Alcott replied seriously. “But if you’re willing to give me a chance, I might surprise you.” He looked into the Professor’s eyes for a long moment, his own light-blue coloured orbs conveying his statement with absolute genuineness.

“Sorry; I was just remembering something Alex said the other day,” Stanton replied, sheepishly. “I… well, I’m sure we’ll become pretty close, being stuck on this ship,” he added, before attempting to clarify, “I mean…yeah.” he ended up saying.

Alcott reached out and gently gripped the Professor’s wrist, “awwww, come on… It’s not so bad here, I suppose. Although, I guess I’m being a little biased, you didn’t really have a choice in your assignment, I did. But I chose the Challenger, for many reas-.” Alcott paused for a moment, glancing at the Professor, “wait, what did Alex say?” He grew nervous, unsure of what McHotty may or may not have shared.

“Well, before he visited, he said that he wanted me to have made five new friends by the end of the week,” Stanton replied, his posture stiffening in a barely perceptible way, at being touched again. “We also said that we wouldn’t miss each other and that we’d do our jobs poorly… Last time, I took it pretty hard,” he added.

If Alcott had been anyone else, he may have missed the minute change in Professor McSteamy’s posture. Because he grew up with a mute mother, he had the inherent ability to detect even the slightest of body gestures. It was an important aspect of signing; to not only translate one’s hand gestures, but also their body language, no matter how small. For the signing community though, touch was an intricate part of their language, it was a way in which they could convey their feelings and emotions; when language failed, the practicality of physical touch took more importance. Alcott had relied on this aspect of communication his entire life, often neglecting to remember that not all people were receptive to touch. To him it was a foreign concept, like two puzzle pieces that didn’t fit together. He remembered in his childhood that other children sometimes took offense to this, but most were very understanding and remained open minded. In Professor McSteamy’s case, all he could do was apologise and try to explain.

“I’m sorry… you’re not fond of touch, are you?” He noted softly.

“I’m just not used to it; I tend to stay inside my personal bubble,” The commander replied.

Alcott nodded, “For me, it’s hard to communicate without using touch. It’s such an important part of how I communicate with others, that I often forget that some simply don’t like to be touched.”

“Is there any particular reason?” Stanton asked.

“My mother is mute, as was I until about four years of age. Signing uses touch as a way to convey our feelings and emotions, when words simply won’t suffice. I assure you; it wasn’t an attempt to make you feel uncomfortable.” Alcott concluded sincerely.

“Ah, well, I understand. I didn’t think you were, I’m just… not used to it. My family’s pretty reserved, and I just never… Well, I never really developed a very touchy-feely personality,” the commander replied, looking at him.

Alcott smiled, “I find that hard to believe considering what I saw yest-.” He caught himself before finishing the sentence. “So, reserved, right…. um, I get that.” He cleared his throat, sipping from his beverage waiting for the awkward moment to pass. “So, um, what is it that you like to do… for fun I mean?”

Stanton looked at him wide-eyed and blushing for a moment, before speaking. “Well… I like tennis… and reading… and, well, sometimes I like to build little model ships,” the engineer said, slowly. “I’m really not all that exciting,” he added, with a smile.

Alcott wasn’t quite certain as to why he continued to reference yesterday’s stumble upon Professor McSteamy and McHotty, perhaps because the imagery was seared into his mind’s eye; whatever the case, he made a mental note to try and never reference it again… ever. “Hmm, I’ve never played tennis before, perhaps you could teach me.” Alcott wasn’t terrific at sports but enjoyed playing them none-the-less. The building models sounded interesting, Alcott had never dabbled in that either, but thought that perhaps he might not have the detailed eye for something like that. Alcott did read quite often, virtually whenever he had a spare moment or two… it was one of his favourite pastimes. “‘It’s sometimes those of us whom we perceive as being boring that surprise us the most when the time comes and it truly matters.’” Alcott quoted the Denobulan writer Frilox, one of his absolute favourites. “What about music? Do you have any favourite composers or vocalists? Oh!” He suddenly interjected, “what about an instrument… do you play?”

“Well, I usually like Classical music or Jazz. I used to play the clarinet, but I was awful,” Stanton replied, after a moment of thought. “I hadn’t really thought about tennis on the ship; I think the gym has space that can be converted for that,” he wondered aloud. “So, are you a musician?”

“Learning a new sport would be interesting, if the gym could be converted for such, I’d be interested in at least learning the fundamentals.” Alcott pushed his tray of half-eaten food aside, no longer hungry or interested in it. “I’ve been trying to teach myself the cello; I’m picking it up quicker than I had expected, which is a pleasant surprise. Otherwise no, not typically.” He confessed. “I wonder if there is an area in the gym that could be converted for dance?” His eyes were intent on Professor McSteamy’s.

“Well, it’s a big open room, so… presumably?” Stanton said, in an uncertain tone. “I don’t really dance, so I don’t know what… equipment… you need for that,” he added, thinking about it.

“Well, nothing too drastic… a few mirrors, perhaps a balance bar and some floor mats. That’s about it.” He rattled off excitedly. “I could teach you… to dance I mean. You teach me tennis; I teach you how not to have two left feet!” Alcott offered with a nod of his head as he gently chewed at his bottom lip. If the gym could be converted, perhaps he could finally get back into dance, enjoying the best of both worlds.

“Well… I’m really not that coordinated; I don’t know if it’d be a good idea,” Stanton said, trying to say no without actually saying it, as he finished his breakfast.

“Aww come on! It’d be fun and you wouldn’t look at all awkward in spandex, you could even send McHotty a picture of you… that would sure as heck get his warp core humming!” Alcott’s face drained of colour as he smacked a hand over his mouth and eyes went wide. Inwardly he relentlessly chided himself for letting slip his and Audrey’s nickname for Rodham. “You didn’t hear that.” The plea muffled through his hand. Ezrah cursed himself and his youthful indiscretions.

“I… um,” Stanton started, closing his eyes for a moment. “I should probably go get the actual warp core humming,” he said, looking at his wrist chronometer.

Ezrah nodded very slowly before replying, “Yes, of course. I should probably go… do something.” He finished, absolutely mortified.

“H-Have a good day, ensign,” Commander Stanton said, before returning his breakfast dish to the proper place in the mess hall, and then quickly leaving the room in the direction of main engineering.

His eyes followed the Professor’s departure before he allowed his forehead to meet the table’s surface in personal defeat, “So awkward! So very awkward!”

The crewman sitting across the mess hall merely snickered before continuing to eat their breakfast, evidently amused at the social fumbles.

As Stanton entered engineering and began bringing the systems online for launch, he couldn’t help but wonder at that comment that the young ensign had wanted him to forget. It was quite possible, he decided, that he had found someone who was more awkward than he was.

Almost an hour later Commander Stanton straightened his uniform in a barely perceptible way as he crossed the threshold from the D Deck corridor to the upper level of main engineering. The compartment was already abuzz with activity, as engineers went about their assigned tasks. It was slightly less full than it had been during the past few days, with the absence of yard engineers, but there was a definite energy about the place as everyone prepared to make the final step from having an incomplete hulk to a functional starship — the launch. Unlike Enterprise, Challenger was more than prepared for her upcoming mission; the parameters were clear, and the ship itself was in top shape. Stanton had made sure of that; the last several days had been spent crawling through every access space on the ship, checking every single system from the main computer to the new reinforcements in the structural integrity field to the new formulation for the ship’s warp stress coating.

“Lieutenant, have the team leaders meet me in front of the gravimetric field distortion manifold in five minutes,” Stanton said, as he came up to his second in command. The Asian woman nodded curtly to him, before going off to complete her assignment. As she did so, Stanton took another walk around engineering, taking note of all the enhancements that had been made to the basic design of Earth starships since the last time he had served the fleet in a space bound role.

As a professor, he had been on the forefront of instruction and the theoretical aspects of engineering, and indeed had come up with several of Challenger‘s innovations in his own laboratory, but there was a certain level of apprehension to be felt about transitioning from shore duty to an active starship. Most of that stress translated into excitement, but he felt a certain amount of trepidation as he looked at the large reactor sitting in the middle of the room; he would be the first engineer to see it put through all of its paces, and to manage the, for the time, gargantuan staff aboard the ship. He carefully climbed down the steep steps to the lower level of engineering, to meet his now-assembled staff.

“Alright, everyone. We know our jobs. We’ve been planning this for a long time. Things are going to go smoothly, today, as long as we remember our training, and do our jobs,” the Commander said, as he looked around at them. 

He was three full steps in rank above all of them; none of the officers were more than a few years out of their initial training, and there were relatively few senior enlisted members of his department. It made him somewhat nervous; he was expecting a Lieutenant or possibly a Lieutenant Commander as a Second Engineer, but he had forced himself to take faith in their assignments, just as he had forced himself to accept his own assignment to the ship. 

“I know that I am not who you trained with,” he started. “Well, apart from those of you who I’ve had in class,” he added, when he recognized a few faces, to a few laughs. “But… We can do this. I’m really proud of everything I’ve seen here, and I know we’ll do fine,” he concluded, as he looked around some more. “Dismissed,” he said, remembering it that time, before climbing up onto the reactor platform.


“So, it gives me great pleasure to once again launch another fine vessel and with her a crew that has already been tested. We wish her godspeed and clear horizons!” 

A round of applause and cheers filled the observation deck after Admiral Gardner had finished his speech before handing over to the speech that the inventor of warp drive gave many years ago via video recording. Now as Captain Burton led his senior staff through the decks of their ship the words the admiral had spoken were resonating in the captain’s mind. Everyone knew that the crew had dealt with its first crisis; many wondered how they would fare in deep space. Only time would tell Burton imagined. 

The lift ride up to the bridge was silent. He shared the small cart with his first officer, armoury officer, pilot and new communications officer. Burton had yet found the time to properly get to know his new linguistic expert. He made a mental note to find the time to speak one to one with Hennessy. 

Burton looked at the others in the lift with him. A mixture of excitement, anxiety and concern filled the atmosphere. He admitted to himself he felt a combination of those feelings. This was it he would be sitting in that centre chair for the first time. He felt his stomach do several back flips as the doors eventually opened. He allowed for the others to go first and soon came in after Levesque.

Stopping in the centre of the room he looked at them all before speaking. “Well here we are,” he said. The night before he had practiced a speech in his mind, however he couldn’t remember it for the life of him. So instead he took his chair with an audience watching him as he did it. He felt he did it with ease and confidence. He sat up tall but relaxed into the quite modern chair. He looked at his communication officer. “Ensign request permission to leave.”

Over at communications, Ensign Hennessy lifted the wireless listening device, placing it in his ear. He pressed a button on his control panel and spoke a few words quietly and then waited.

“Control grants permission for the ship to depart, Captain,” he finally said.

Burton then turned to his helm officer. “Take us out Ezrah. Nice and smooth.”

Alcott was seated comfortably behind the helm console, eyes intent on the various control panels. At hearing the Captain’s order, he glanced over his shoulder and smiled back in response. “Aye, sir. Preparing to disembark.”

His hands manipulated the various console interfaces, depressing several strings of commands into the plotting computer. “Releasing berth umbilical cords.” Alcott announced as the computer acknowledged the command. On the bridge, there was a muffled vibration that reverberated along its length of bulkhead, a physical signal that the umbilical locks had disengaged; red indicator lights flickered to green in confirmation of this. “Now disembarking the Warp Five Complex at port speed, coordinates three-seven mark five should provide a respectable distance from dock, sir.” Alcott finished, sliding the manual accelerator upwards with his left hand while his right adjusted thruster control. “Professor Stanton, port ventral thrusters are a little sluggish, Sir.”

I’m diverting some extra power down there,” Stanton replied, considering correcting the ensign on his title, but then thinking better of it, as he adjusted the power flow to that particular thruster unit. Commander Stanton was in Main Engineering monitoring the ship’s power levels closely as it slipped out of the dock. The engine design was proven, but there were a few enhancements from the last unit off of the line, including more sophisticated plasma accelerators and a more robust power distribution network. So far, everything seemed to be going as it should have been, and Stanton couldn’t help but be excited. The engineer went back to his other tasks, in preparation to take the ship into warp for the first time. He was confident that the ship would be able to do so, but there was always an air of nervousness that came with operating such a major component for the first time.

On the bridge Alcott activated the applicable thruster control once again, “that’s much better; thank you, Sir.” 

With a smooth, steady gracefulness, the Challenger slowly slipped from within the confines of the Warp Five Complex.

Alcott could feel the pressure of his heart beating against the inside of his chest cavity in concealed excitement and a tinge of fear; he hoped their departure had been smooth enough for the Captain. “We’re now clear of the structure, Captain Burton.” He noted as the ship continued to pull forward in space. He adjusted his posture, hoping to relax a bit of tension caused by his rigid posture.

The large leather seat was comfortable to be in. Burton was finding himself starting to relax in it which wasn’t helping him to try to keep up the appearance of being poised and ready as the ship took its first few strokes out on to the waters of space. When Alcott announced they were finally free of the superstructure the captain sat up straight in his chair as he handed out the next set of orders. 

“Mister Alcott put us in synchronous orbit above Paris.” He ordered hoping their guests wouldn’t be too late. 

“Aye, Captain.” Alcott replied. His hands danced over the helm controls, pleased at how quickly and efficiently the systems were responding. Alcott could certainly feel a significant difference in how the Challengerhandled when compared to a shuttlepod; it was a little less fluid, a little more cumbersome, but easy enough to steer none-the-less. Entering the necessary calculations, Alcott directed the Challenger to the appropriate coordinates, adjusting the ships speed when necessary. “Entering geosynchronous orbit with Earth, Captain; our orbit should match that of Paris, France.”

Burton looked over to his science officer. “Commander Levesque, scan for Secretary Campbell’s transport.” 

“Aye sir.” Levesque replied as she looked down from the view screen to her console. Switching the main sensors to manual it took her only a few moments to locate the Secretary’s ship. “Got them coming up from Paris, bearing two-seven-two mark seven-five.”

“Put it up, Ensign Hennessey.” Burton ordered with a nod to his communication’s officer. 

The main screen changed to show the approach of a standard Earth transport ship rising from the French capital. The transport was about three times the size of a standard shuttlepod and had no armaments to speak of. It was outfitted with a warp drive and could only achieve speeds up to warp one point four. 

“Give them permission to dock.” Burton ordered before standing up from his chair. He looked over to his Armoury Officer. “Commander Callahan, the bridge is yours. Once the Secretary and her staff are all safely aboard and her ship has departed then get us under way at full impulse to meet up with the task group. By the time I get back up here, tell Commander Stanton I want us to go to warp.”

Callahan nodded, and hit the comm on the tactical station to discreetly summon the relief armoury officer to the post. Had this been a run-of-the-mill departure from spacedock he might have been inclined to assume command from his station; it wasn’t as if he couldn’t see the whole of the bridge from there or keep track of multiple issues at once. But this was no run-of-the-mill situation; this was leaving spacedock for the first time, with a dignitary on board, no less. The last thing he wanted was for something to go wrong on his watch because he hadn’t been paying enough attention.

Not to mention that before Challenger he had never been a part of a ship’s command team, never been anything more than a lowly Armoury Officer on the senior staff. John Callahan wasn’t accustomed to not being experienced at handling the situation before him. When it came to the Big Chair, he was green as likely as anyone on the bridge, and had no desire to make a fool of himself. But, “aye, Captain,” was all he said as he rose to his feet, his voice not betraying an inch of the self-doubt he felt.

Burton turned to Levesque. “Commander, you’re with me.” He motioned as he led them to the lift to go and meet with the secretary at the airlock.

Stepping into the lift, Levesque quickly took up position next to the Captain and waited for the door to shut. Neither said anything for a moment. Whether they were both observing a moment of professional silence or that neither knew exactly what to say, she didn’t know. 

“Very good speech sir…brought a tear to my eye.” Levesque finally said, a grin plastered across her face.

Burton turned to Levesque and gave her cheeky wink as the lift descended towards their destination.

As Burton left with Commander Levesque, Callahan crossed the bridge to the captain’s chair. It loomed at him ominously. He was pretty sure chairs weren’t supposed to loom.

Then again, his instructions were simple and clear, and without further ado he sat himself down. Nothing went wrong at that first hurdle. It was pretty comfortable, really.

“Ensign Alcott, confirm when the Secretary’s transport is away; we don’t want to waste time twiddlin’ our thumbs,” he told Ezrah, perhaps redundantly.

Alcott turned in the chair and nodded towards Callahan, “Aye Commander!” There was a visual representation of Challengerdisplayed on the flight control console. There was a steady red light over the starboard docking port indicating it was currently in use; data streaming vertically beside the display indicated that it was a docked vessel, providing its designation as well as the docked craft’s most basic specifications. When the ship was prepared to depart, the steady red light would then start to blink and when the craft departed the light would switch to a steady green. Ezrah closely monitored his station, waiting for any changes to be reported by the computer or also manually.

Callahan forced himself to stop tapping his fingers on the armrest and instead hit the comm on the small control panel there. “Engineering; the captain’s going down to meet the VIP,” he said, each letter strung out in his Texan drawl. “That makes it about your fifteen-minute warnin’ on us goin’ to warp if you got anythin’ needing ironing out last-minute, sir.” He added the ‘sir’ specifically and with genuine respect; Callahan knew it was his own nerves making him fuss excessively and deferring to Stanton’s rank made it easier to sound like he was being helpful or procedural, rather than nagging the man about his own engine room.

“Acknowledged. I’m tracking down a minor power variance in the third stage starboard plasma accelerator, but we’ll be ready by then, bridge,” Stanton replied, as he looked at his master control board. He could see that one of the accelerators was sporadically dipping in power consumption, hopefully just as a response to being brand-new. Minor power variance or not, the ship was totally ready to go, in his opinion.

Callahan let out a deep breath and leant back in the captain’s chair, trying to make his back unknot. He was not made for starship command; had never wanted it or even dreamt of it. Even on something as simple as keeping the ship stable while they docked with another ship wasn’t making him worry, per se – but his thoughts were more concerned with the million-to-one odds of something going wrong, which he simply dismissed out of hand or confidently knew were dealt with when he was sat at tactical. It was ridiculous.

He glanced around the bridge. “Anyone know where we might get a recordin’ of the ceremony?” The thought only occurred suddenly, and he cursed himself inside for not thinking of it earlier.

Captain Burton stood up straight as the airlock went through the final cycle before it unlocked and allowed the door to swoosh open. Levesque was standing to his right, per protocol, when their guests finally arrived. Burton had given her an assuring smile prior. This was it. Their first mission was under way. He prayed he didn’t muck this up.

The two Starfleet officers were now facing Secretary Campbell along with four others. Madelyn Campbell was a tall woman who stood with an air of confidence. She had brown hair that was bobbed just below her ears and deep brown eyes that showed compassion in them. The secretary wore a grey skirt-suit with a white blouse underneath. Pinned to the collar of her jacket was a silver brooch that had an English Celtic style to it. She greeted the captain with a warm smile.

“Secretary Campbel, welcome aboard Challenger.” Burton greeted her as he extended his hand to the politician.

Campbell took his hand and shook it gently. “Thank you captain, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Burton replied before gesturing towards Levesque. “This is my first officer and chief science officer, Commander Nicolette Levesque.”

Campbell extended her hand towards Levesque. “Greetings commander.”

“A pleasure Madam Secretary.” Levesque said, taking the woman’s outstretched hand in her own.

The secretary then turned to the man who had been standing to her side. He was of a similar height and age as her. He had brown hair too that was starting to recede with a few hints of grey hair appearing around the edges. “This is my husband and chief of staff Robert Campbell.”

Once again Burton and Levesque shared a handshake with the secretary’s husband. Campbell went on to introduce the others as members of her staff that would be helping her with the negotiations on Denobula. The formalities were now over, the airlock door had now closed behind the Challenger’s new guests. 

“Let us show you where you will be staying.” Burton said as he gestured for them to head towards the nearest lift. He looked to Commander Levesque. “Commander, please inform the bridge to get us underway.”

“Aye sir.” Moving away from the group for a moment Levesque activated one of the nearby com-panels. “Bridge, the Secretary is aboard, her ship has disembarked too. You are cleared to engage at your discretion.”

The group then moved off with Burton and Secretary Campbell walking side by side at the front with Levesque following with the secretary’s husband next to her. The rest of the secretary’s staff brought up the rear. 

“So captain, how has your crew dealt with your recent losses?” Madelyn inquired, as they turned right taking the long journey around E deck to get the lift that would take them to G deck to the guest quarters. 

Burton took in a breath before answering the question. “They’ve adjusted as well as you could expect ma’am. They’ve placed a lot of focus on getting Challenger ready for launch.”

Robert Campbell then spoke up. “Commander Levesque, I understand that you were originally on-board Columbia?”

“Yes sir, as Chief Science Officer. I had been aboard her since she launched last year.”

“Was it hard to leave Columbia?” He inquired as they moved past the entrance of cargo bay one. 

“Yes and no. I have a lot of friends aboard Columbia that I will miss. Captain Hernandez and I go way back. She actually recruited me off the Intrepid. That being said I’ve been in Starfleet for twelve years and this is my fourth assignment. After a while you get used to it.” She replied with a slight sigh.

The group soon turned right again passing a few enlisted officers’ quarters. The conversation was flowing considerably well. Burton then decided to turn his attention about the mission at hand. “Ma’am do you see any issues in the Denobulans not wanting to join the Coalition?”

Campbell smirked at that and gave her husband a quick glance before answering. “That’s funny, my son Thomas asked the same thing before we left.” She continued. “My heart says there shouldn’t be any issues besides assuring them of the benefits of joining it; however experience has taught me to prepare for the worst.”

“The Secretary spent six weeks trying to convince the Denobulan Premier to reconsider his position on relations with Earth after the Xindi attack.” Her husband remarked.

“One of the toughest tenures during my ambassadorship to Denobula.” Madelyn added. “However Premier Nerlox was eventually swayed.”

The group eventually reached the doors to the lift and the captain pressed the button to request its presence. The doors soon opened, and he led them all in the lift. It was a bit cramped but breathable. He couldn’t quite reach the button to take them to G deck, so he winked to Levesque to do it for him.

Catching the gesture from the Captain, Levesque tapped the control panel and the lift began to descend. 

The lift soon moved at full speed, heading down to the bottom deck of Challenger. As soon as they reached their destination the doors swished open and Lloyd led them out. 

“Have either of you dealt with the Denobulans before?” Madelyn inquired as they filled out of the lift.

Burton nodded. “I once visited Denobula Triaxa two years ago. My ship was assisting one of its colonies with relief efforts after it was struck by devastating seismic activity.”

The Foreign Secretary looked to Levesque. “And how about you commander?”

“A few times aboard Columbia, our route brought us near Denobulan space; we’d often run across a trade ship from one of their colonies. We actually managed to pull one of them out of a tight spot once. There was also this one doctor I knew back when I was an Ensign, but that’s a story for a different time…” Nicole trailed off trying to avoid the knowing glance coming from the Secretary.

Burton then motioned for them to carry on walking. “G deck is pretty much assigned to guests. If you need anything stewards will be available. Just make a call to our senior steward, Petty Officer Rose Buck and she will be able to deal with whatever requests you have.”

The captain showed the secretary to her quarters that contained a double bed that she would obviously be sharing with her husband. 

“This is fine captain. Thank you.” She said as she looked around the room.

“Your belongings will be brought along shortly by Crewmen Proude and Spargo.” Burton assured them. “We’ll let you settle in and then please join us for lunch at twelve hundred hours in the captain’s mess.”

The captain and his first officer soon left their VIPs alone to get used to their accommodation. So far so good, Burton thought.

NINE

Challenger NX-03, en-route to Denobula
Saturday February 8th, 2155

Commander Stanton was working in the transporter theory lab, attempting to ascertain how the most recent transporter accident had occurred. His solution had caused the loss of the specimen container to be avoided, but he was intensely curious on how the transporter beam could have energized the containment field. He was always fascinated by the theoretical approach to engineering, certainly preferring it to the physical labour of actually building an engine, and was the only engineer currently working on the project.

“Hmm,” he murmured, running both of his hands through his dark, curly hair, as he read a display.

Engineering to Commander Stanton. We need you down here,” came a voice over the communications system.

“Why?” Stanton asked airily, as he pushed the answer button on the nearest comm panel.

Uh… You’ll need to see for yourself, sir.” the response came. Stanton frowned, but got up from his seat and left the room.

After a few moments, he found himself walking through the hatchway into the upper level of engineering. He was greeted by a state of general disarray as his staff ran around attempting to solve something.

“Report,” he said, in a confused tone, as he came up to the ensign at the reactor control station.

“Uh… Well, sir, we think we have a virus in the engineering control systems,” Ensign Peterson reported, as he gestured to the controls in front of him. The display was in Vulcan. “Everything’s in Vulcan,” the ensign added. Stanton looked at the young blond man for a moment, before looking at the screen.

“Yes,” Stanton replied. “A virus?” he asked.

“Yes, sir. We’ve spent about five minutes trying to fix it… and that’s what we think it is,” he replied.

“Can any of you read Vulcan?” the chief engineer asked, looking around at his staff. None of them spoke up. “Vulcans don’t write viruses. And it hasn’t destroyed the ship,” Stanton said, after another moment of thought. “No, not a virus,” he decided. “The engineering computer isn’t programmed to render Vulcan text, either… the only computer on the ship, that is, is the communications sub-processor, it’s loaded with the universal translator,” he said aloud.

 “Yeah-,” the ensign tried to interject.

“Why would the universal translation software be loaded into the engineering computer,” Stanton wondered. “Access to the controls for the computer are on the starboard side of D Deck, communications on the port,” he said. At that point, several of the junior officers were looking at him, wide-eyed as he talked to himself. “Communications officer, can’t remember his name, must have tried to update the software, and accidentally uploaded a copy to the wrong sub-processing cluster!”

“That makes sense.” the ensign said, after a moment.

“Yes, it does,” Stanton agreed, as he reached for the communications panel. “We can’t just wipe that sub-processor core, though, as the ship would… explode. We’ll need someone who can understand Vulcan, so that we can switch it back to English,” he said, before hitting the button. “Engineering to Communications. We need Ensign…” he started, but trailed off.

“Hennessy, sir,” Petty Officer Johnson supplied.

“We need Ensign Hennessy down here on the double,” the commander said.


Ned Hennessy sat at his station on the bridge, reviewing a list of tasks, some of which he had assigned to himself, and the rest he had delegated to the Xenolinguistics Specialist, whom he had not yet met. He knew only by the officer’s electronic signature that his name was “C. Johnson,” as he had seen it already on several progress reports.

He was about to move on to C. Johnson’s next report on the latest universal translation software upload when he heard his name being called over the ship’s public address.

“Ensign Hennessy to engineering immediately. Ensign Hennessy to engineering.”

Hennessey heaved a sigh and rose from his chair. “What could they possibly need from me in engineering?”

Several engineers gathered around a console muttering to themselves when they heard a voice approaching from behind.

“I’m Ned Hennessy. Someone called for me?”

“Yes,” Stanton said, turning his head around to look at him. “All of my consoles are in Vulcan. I need them not to be since none of us can read Vulcan,” he explained, before turning completely around. “I think the universal translation program is in the wrong computer cluster.”

“Hmm.” Hennessy narrowed his eyes, slid his spectacles to the edge of his nose, and peered at the data on the engineering readout.

“Actually the designation is Vulcanian and this is T’Lik; a sub-dialect, pre-Reformation. You can tell because of these glyphs here.” He pointed to a cluster of symbols. “Very jagged. Very martial.”

“Uh huh,” Stanton said, looking. “I’m sure it’s very fascinating, but I need it switched back to English, so that the ship doesn’t… well… explode, if we can’t read the system reports. I think the universal translation program got loaded into the wrong data core,” he added, looking at the ensign.

“Yes, the ship exploding would be a problem,” Hennessy replied as though he was talking about flies buzzing around a picnic basket. “If I may?”

“Yes,” the commander replied, stepping back from the console. “I suppose if you can’t reset it, you’ll just have to be on duty twenty-four-seven in engineering,” he added, in a teasing sort of tone.

Hennessy simply looked at the Commander. “Right.” He slid between the clutch of engineering staff members and began closely scrutinizing the instrument panel. “Uh-huh.” His eyes darted back and forth between the control panel marked in standard and the monitor notated in ancient Vulcanian. He tapped in a few commands. After a few long moments he spoke again.

“What exactly is a warp field?”

“Warp fields are immensely powerful subspace distortion fields that make it so that the ship can go faster than the universal speed limit of ‘C’ by reducing our absolute mass,” Stanton explained, in his professorial voice. “The asymmetry of the field is what causes us to move forward in space, by forming what is essentially a subspace pressure front behind the ship, causing the universe to push us forward,” he added.

“According to this, it’s imbalanced,” he replied pointing to the monitor. 

“That can happen if the plasma accelerators aren’t exactly aligned to the same power register,” Stanton said, looking at the monitor. “Things start to flash red and alarms go off if it is too severe but being able to see exactly how it’s imbalanced would help, uh, soon,” he added. “The translation software has decided that all of our engineering inputs need to be displayed in archaic Vulcan. Try to access the control subroutines and disable it.”

“Working on it, Commander,” Hennessy said. His fingers pounded away at the panel. “The engineering subroutines are a little hard for me to navigate, especially in Vulcanian. Wish I could teach you, but…” Moments passed. The tap-two-tap of Hennessy’s long fingers on the control panel grew rapidly. Finally, the monitor shifted abruptly from alien symbols to Earth Standard. Hennessy cocked his head. “I liked it before. This all is gibberish to me. Except…” Once again, his eyes narrowed. “Aha! The culprit. Petty Officer C. Johnson.” He pulled off his spectacles and looked up at Stanton. “Do we still keelhaul people?”

“The Challenger doesn’t technically have a keel, Ensign,” Stanton replied, after a moment of thought. “Someone get on that warp field imbalance,” he said, turning to look at his staff, who were already starting to return to their duty stations to make sure that nothing else had gone awry while the computers had been unintelligible. “As long as the program isn’t overriding our normal displays, there’s no real reason why the universal translation software can’t be in both computer sub-cores, but it might be best to remove it anyway.”

“Yes, I’ll get Petty Officer Johnson on that right away since it was his fault to begin with,” Hennessy answered. He slid the eyeglasses back onto his nose. “No keel, huh?”

“Well, a keel is a single structural member that runs the length of a vessel to give it longitudinal support,” Stanton said, looking at the ensign for a moment. “Challenger‘s framework is built on circular support members, instead, to provide omnidirectional support,” he added. “Plus, well, one mistake isn’t really grounds for having someone tortured,” he continued. 

“Quite right,” Hennessy said. He continued tap, tap, tapping away at the panel. Finally he stopped. “And the engineering core is now clear of the linguistics software.” He stood up from the control console and looked around at the compartment for the first time since he’d arrived. “My God, this place is big.”

“Yeah, the gravimetric field displacement manifold takes up quite a bit of real estate. It’s actually pretty compact for the fact that it’s currently making enough energy for this ship to go one-hundred-twenty-five times faster than the speed of light,” Stanton replied, also looking up. “You’ve never been aboard a ship, have you?”

“None this big. When I was with the embassy, we travelled quite a bit, but on small transports. Nothing this fast,” He looked toward Stanton’s chest, seemingly at his rank insignia. “You must be Commander Stanton.”

“Yes… I must be,” Stanton said, also looking at his uniform for a moment, before shaking the thought off and looking at the ensign. “Thank you for de-Vulcanizing the computer,” he said.

“Oh, sure. I’ve only had eight weeks training, so I guess I should be ready for anything,” Hennessy deadpanned. He looked at the behemoth contraption Stanton called the gravimetric field displacement manifold. “How many moving parts does that thing have?”

“Moving parts? Well, none really,” Stanton said, with a curious expression on his face. “It’s basically all magnets. No pistons or steam pumps or anything,” he added, as he looked up at the warp core. “It’s actually a very simple, elegant design.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Hennessy said. “I can’t stand systems with so many parts, just too many more things that can go wrong. And I’ll take your suggestion to read the technical specifications of the ship under advisement, but it’ll only enable me to foresee the worst. Where this,” Hennessy gestured at the core, “is concerned, I’d just as soon believe that it’s voodoo and you’re some kind of witch doctor that makes it go.”

“Well, there are actually eight major components to the main reactor, and dozens of secondary components, it’s just that none of them move,” Stanton replied, as he considered the rest of what Hennessy had said. “You escaped the STC without having me or Lieutenant Commander Spiros for an engineering course?” he asked, looking as though he really wanted to say something about the voodoo comment or to go and explain the physics of warp propulsion and antimatter power generation.

“They seemed more concerned with teaching me computer programming and how to fix the subspace radio. I didn’t really question it much,” Hennessy replied. “Ten weeks ago, I was an interpreter/translator for United Earth. Then I-” he stopped short, and the look on his face indicated he wished he could rewind and erase those two words. He continued. “A Starfleet recruiter visited me, asked me if I wanted access to the latest in universal translation hardware and unlimited opportunities to do field research. So, I said, ‘yes.’ Two weeks later, I was in San Francisco training. And now, eight weeks later, here I am.” He looked around the engineering compartment with a mixture of marvel and intimidation. “It still hasn’t quite sunk in.”

“A few days ago, the only things I had to worry about were exams to grade, Friday afternoon faculty senate meetings, and what to make for dinner,” Stanton replied, looking at the ensign, as he got an idea. “Ensign Alcott was… attentive… in class. I’m sure he’d help you get up to speed,” he suggested.

“I may do that,” Hennessy said. “Well, it’s always nice to meet a fellow academic, but I must be off. I need to teach Latin to the translator. Sorry about the computer mix-up.”

“I’m sure that’ll come in handy for all the Romans we’ll be meeting,” Stanton said, dryly, as he climbed back up to the reactor control panel. “Carry on, Ensign,” he said, before returning to his work.


“Captain’s starlog, February 8th, 2155. Challenger has rendezvoused with the task force and we are on our way to Denobula.”

Lloyd Burton had just finished reading the material Admiral Gardner gave him regarding the delegates that were attending the mission in his ready room. Along with Secretary Campbell, Ambassador Soron of Vulcan, Ambassador Kora jym Gouth of Tellar and Ambassador Chamagerit zh’Thachker of Andoria, were joining her.

Soron was the Ambassador to Earth and had taken over from Soval after he became Foreign Minister for the Vulcan Confederacy. Soron had been Vulcan’s ambassador to Denobula prior; as such his insights to the Denobulan negotiations would be crucial. Apparently Soron and Campbell were close colleagues due to the fact they had shared the same period of time in being the ambassadors for their respective governments on Denobula. The prominent Vulcan diplomat V’Lar had trained Soron for many years. It was also rumoured that two were also married but Starfleet couldn’t confirm that matter.

Kora jym Gouth had only recently been appointed to her ambassadorship to Earth. There wasn’t much on Kora in the data the admiral had sent. However unlike other Tellarite politicians that the United Earth Government had dealt with, she had been noted as being quite amicable to work with. 

Then there was Chamagerit zh’Thachker (Magerit), the Andorian ambassador. She was a renowned diplomat within the Andorian Empire and rivalled Anlenthoris ch’Vhendreni (Thoris), the Andorian Ambassador to Earth. Magerit had been involved in numerous peace talks with the Vulcans and the Tellarites. She was also a retired general of the Andorian Imperial Guard and was an honorary member of it now. Magerit was also one of the candidates who were running for election to become the new Chancellor of the Andorian Empire in the coming months. Lloyd wished the mission wasn’t going to become part of her campaign efforts. 

Burton had poured himself a mug of English white tea as he was studying the text in front of him. Sipping slowly on it he was trying to memorise all of the different customs and traditions he would be expected to use in front of the three ambassadors. He hadn’t even started to think about the Denobulan customs he would have to observe once they arrived at their destination. Secretary Campbell during their lunch had lent him some of the notes she had taken over the years with the various aliens she had interacted with. That was next on his reading list. 

The intercom chime then went off and was followed by the husky voice of Petty Officer Johnson, Challenger’s Xenolinguistics Specialist. “Bridge to Captain Burton.”

The captain finished the sentence he was reading before tapping the panel on his desk to answer. “Go ahead Mister Johnson.” 

Sir, you have an incoming call from Enterprise.” He spoke.

Burton frowned at the mention of the flagship. “Pipe it through.” He responded.

The enlisted officer did as he was told and the captain’s monitor changed to show the face of a man he had never met in real life but knew the legend of; Captain Jonathan Beckett Archer. “Good afternoon captain.” Archer greeted with. 

“Captain Archer, this is an unexpected call but a welcomed one. How are you?” Burton asked as he tried to quickly and subtly make himself look presentable to the man who literally saved Earth. 

Archer gave his usual charismatic smile. “Well, thank you Captain Burton. And yourself?

“Likewise.” Burton replied, pulling a similar grin to his counterpart. He was trying his best not to come across as too confident, but on the other hand appearing not to be incapable of command. “I have a feeling this isn’t a social call captain?” 

Archer shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I’m calling to warn you of a possible threat.

Concerned, Burton sat up in his chair. “What sort of threat?”

We were just attacked by Orions and Captain Hernandez has reported a similar incident happening with Nausicaans. It seems too unbelievable to think it wasn’t a coordinated attack and we think you may be next.” Archer remarked.

Burton nodded, understanding the captain’s thought process. Both Enterprise and Columbia were leading similar diplomatic convoys to Rigel and Coridan, but why were the Orions and Nausicaans attacking them? “Understood, thank you for the head’s up.” 

You’re welcome. I’m sending you everything we have on both attacks. I’m not sure if it would be useful or not, but I think it’s better than nothing.” Archer said before taking a breath. “And my apologies for Enterprise not being home to see your launch.”

The younger captain waved it off. “It’s understandable, captain.”

Well good luck Captain Burton. Archer out.” He nodded once before the signal was cut from his end. 

Burton leaned back in his chair to stretch slightly. He had a feeling if both Enterpriseand Columbiawere attacked with their convoys then it was pretty certain they would be too. He got himself up from his desk and headed to the bridge. As he walked out onto the bridge, he noticed that none of the senior staff were on duty. It was late in the afternoon and he knew by now they would all be with their various departments overseeing various matters. He looked at the younger relief crew on duty. He walked over to his chair, which was empty and sat in it. He looked over to the armoury officer on duty, Ensign Cortez. 

“Take us to Tactical Alert.” He ordered and then tapped the intercom panel built into his chair’s arm. “All senior staff report to the situation room at once.” He ordered.

It hadn’t taken long for everyone to report to the bridge per the captain’s request. Burton now stood at the head of the situation table as he loaded up the information Enterprisehad sent to them. The various sensor logs and data about the two attacks now appeared on the screen on the raised table and the screens behind Lloyd. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I have just spoken with Captain Archer and he informs me that Enterprise and Columbia, along with their convoys, were attacked by Orions and Nausicaans respectively.” He looked around the table at the seven others. This was it, he thought to himself, our first test. A slight sense of anxiety and caution swept through the young captain’s mind, but he kept control of it by not showing everyone else what he was feeling. “Columbia was boarded during their assault and one of the intruders was captured. Captain Hernandez has questioned this individual and she believes this is a coordinated attack, in hopes of disrupting the summits.”

“I figured that ship had sailed with Terra Prime,” Hennessy offered.

“I wonder who that leaves us with then, Klingons?” Commander Stanton mused.

Callahan shrugged. “Terra Prime bein’ gone ain’t gonna make people happy with galactic politics overnight, an’ that’s just Earth – who knows what upsets other species have. Xenophobia don’t die easy, and it ain’t exclusive to humans.”

“That’s too bad; it’d be nice if there was one species in the universe that didn’t think it was superior to all the rest.” Levesque said with a sigh. “And I wouldn’t count Terra Prime out either Callahan. They’re like weeds: you pull one, five more pop up.”

Burton continued with the briefing. “We’ll remain at tactical alert for the rest of the journey. Commander Levesque, begin long range scans for any hostile ships, be it Orion, Nausicaan or anyone else.”

“Yes sir, I would suggest that any ship approaching the convoy without prior notification be considered hostile.” Levesque offered

Burton nodded. “Agreed.” He then carried out handing out orders. “Commander Stanton, ensure all systems are operating at peak efficiency and are battle ready, just in case.” Burton ordered the chief engineer.

“Everything on this ship is showroom new and functioning perfectly, sir. We’ll be ready,” the commander replied, with a nod. “I’ll have hourly diagnostics run just to be sure, though.”

The captain turned to both Callahan and Yu. “Commander Callahan, ensure all of our tactical systems are ready to be used and coordinate with Major Yu all security arrangements on board Challenger.”

“It’ll be done, sir. These pirates are difficult to anticipate ‘cos there’s very little uniform about their ship classes, but it won’t be anything we haven’t seen before,” confirmed Callahan. “And I’ll have the personal security for the Secretary stepped up.”

“The MACO team is ready to provide that stepping up, all commandos and all gear accounted for.” Yu added before turning back to her Texan counterpart. “If you don’t mind, Commander Callahan, I’d like to review your security plans…I have previous operational experience in protecting government officials and counter-terrorism.”

Callahan looked a little tense at this, but he didn’t dispute it and just nodded.

Burton stared at Ensign Alcott. “Ensign, take us to warp four at once. The Denobulan government is aware we’ll hopefully arrive ahead of schedule.”

Alcott had been actively listening to each of the senior staff members who spoke, yet he himself remained quiet throughout the meeting itself as he closely observed each department head as they spoke in turn. When the Captain then turned to him with orders, he nodded his head in acknowledgement of the order itself before replying, “Warp four, aye sir.” He would wait until the briefing had concluded and they were dismissed before carrying out the order itself. As he waited patiently, Ezrah’s excitement grew incrementally as the opportunity to take his first starship to high warp drew nearer.

“Ensign Hennessy,” Burton said, grabbing the attention of his communications officer. “As our protocol officer I want you to ensure that Secretary Campbell and her staff are aware of the situation and to ensure they have everything they need.”

“Yes, sir,” Hennessy replied.

Finally, he turned to the last person in his senior staff. “Doctor,” Burton paused as he remembered Ben-Ami didn’t like being called that. “Ro-fa, please make sure sickbay is prepared and all emergency protocols are ready.”

She nodded her head, “Of course Captain. We have everything squared away and my staff have been running some drills in case of an emergency.”

He looked at them all now as he prepared to conclude the briefing. “The rest of the ships in our convoy have been made aware of the situation and are making similar preparations. Challenger will be taking the lead in any battle we find ourselves in, so I want us at our best. I’m sure you’ll all ensure that happens. Any questions?”

“Will the Vulcans or the Andorians be sending any other ships?” Stanton asked, after a moment of thought. “Any one of their combat cruisers is more than a match for anything the Orions could throw at us.”

Burton shook his head. “I’m afraid not. We’re on our own for now.”

There was a slightly tense sigh from Callahan at this. “Of course, we are,” he muttered, his bitterness more wry than angry, but there.

“Did the Captain say how large a force attacked their convoys?” Levesque asked next.

Callahan nodded, straightening and also looking at Burton. “Yeah, a full tactical breakdown of the other two attacks can leave us in a better state to be anticipatin’ what sort of trouble they might throw our way.”

“Captain Archer engaged three Orion raiders while Captain Hernandez took on five Nausicaan raiders.” Burton answered. “I’ve sent all the data to your relevant profiles on the network for you all to review.”

“Nausicaans are nasty in a one-on-one fight.” Major Yu recalled with a sigh, her thoughts drifting to a previous encounter the Republic had recently while on patrol. “Ran into them once out near Rigel. Dirty tricks, brutal strength, and they have both a serious case of sadomasochism as well as a fondness for long sharp jagged bladed metal objects. Very tough. We’ll have to increase the output on the phase weaponry and baton stun settings if you want any such fight with minimum casualties…they do love to get up close and personal.”

Burton understood the major’s suggestion. “Do whatever you need to do Major.” He said.

Viktoria gave an affirmative nod but also a word of serious caution. “I’d be careful about saying things like that, sir.”

“Yeah, I might need a bucket of bourbon to wash this fight down when we’re done,” joked Callahan quietly.

Burton smirked at the two officers and their remarks. “Thank you everyone. Dismissed.” He ordered.


The lift deposited Hennessy on G deck and he stepped out of the car into the corridor. All of a sudden, this mission had gone from simple diplomatic escort duty to potentially hazardous duty. The concept of the unknown and the associated danger was something that had been hammered into Ned and his classmates at officer training, but it was not one he had given a lot of thought to. He wasn’t kidding when he told Stanton the instructors had been keener on training Hennessy in the science of programming the universal translator than they had about other starship systems. They wanted him to be a translating machine, putting the hardware and software through its paces, building on the voluminous linguistics database Starfleet had already started.

The prospect that had inspired him to sign on with Starfleet — playing with the universal translation equipment — had grown hollow, though, in his early hours aboard the ship. He had already run afoul of the ship’s science officer and chief surgeon. As he arrived at Secretary Campbell’s accommodations, he rang the chime and hoped that things could not get any worse. 

When the door snapped open, he realized that they could.

At the sight of his ex-wife, Ned almost staggered back. Before he could open his mouth, though, he heard Campbell’s voice from the bunk area.

“Who is it, Jane?”

Although she was a head shorter than Ned, the woman called Jane, the former Mrs Hennessy, was formidable looking. Her short, blonde hair framed an angular face that might have looked elegant had it not been for the piercing look she was giving her former spouse. It took her a moment to recover from her own surprise.

“Jane?” Campbell’s voice rang out again.

“It’s-” she began, but Ned stepped past her into Campbell’s quarters. 

“Ned Hennessy, Madam Secretary,” he said. “Ship’s communications, linguistics and protocol officer.” He straightened his glasses on his nose as he said it.

Campbell emerged from the other room. Seated on a sofa in the main area were two men, one who Ned recognized as Robert Campbell, the Secretary’s husband and chief of staff. Scattered on a coffee table in front of them were several documents, maps of space and the occasional pen or pencil. 

The Secretary regarded Ned’s face for a moment. “You look familiar, Ensign.”

“Ned Hennessy,” he repeated. “I interpreted for you a few times at the United Earth embassy.” And I’ve been introduced to you countless times at embassy parties, not that I expect you to remember. He looked uncomfortably over at Jane and then back at Secretary Campbell.

“Are you the one who translated The Wizard of Oz into Andorian?” she asked.

Ned grimaced. Okay. She remembers.

“Why is the ship at tactical alert?” Robert Campbell asked.

Ned explained what he had just learned on the bridge: the attacks on the Enterprise and Columbia by Orion and Naussican raiders, the capture of a Naussican intruder aboard Columbia and Captain Hernandez’s theory that the attack was coordinated between the two nefarious groups.

“Is this an attempt to thwart the summits?” the Secretary asked.

“Captain Hernandez believes so, yes,” Ned answered. “We’ll be at Tactical Alert for the remainder of the journey to Denobula.” Again, he cast a fleeting look toward his ex-wife, then toward Campbell. “The Captain has assigned me to you. If there is anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Security,” said Robert Campbell.

“Robert!” the Secretary protested.

“There’s a real danger, Madelyn,” he said. The Secretary’s husband looked back up at Ned. “Security?”

“You’ll see a military presence on this deck in short order. Ship’s security and the MACO contingent are working jointly to ensure your safety.” Ned paused, looked over at Jane again and then back at Secretary Campbell. “I can see you’re working here, so I’ll see if I can get someone from the galley to send down an urn of coffee for you. In the meantime, I’ll be on the bridge. If there’s anything else you require, please call for me.”

They all thanked Ned, and the Ensign departed the Campbell’s guest quarters. He had almost made it to the lift when he heard a voice behind him.

“What are you doing here?”

He stopped and turned slowly. At the other end of the corridor Jane stood, looking indignant.

“I might ask you the same thing, Janie,” he said. “This is the ship I was assigned to. What’s your excuse?”

“Campbell took me on as her deputy chief of staff,” she said, defiantly. “I’ve been angling for a position in the Secretary’s office for a long time, you know that. What about you? Starfleet? Really?”

Ned straightened a bit, smoothing out his uniform as if he felt he needed to defend it. “I know I’m too old. I know you think it’s beneath me. And maybe it is,” he took a few steps closer to her. “But I saw an opportunity to get away and still do the work I love.”

“Get away from what, Ned?” she asked.

He shook his head and turned back around, heading toward the lift. “I’m surprised you have to ask.” He pushed the call button and waited.

“So where is Zephyr?”

“He’s here,” Ned answered, still not facing her. “In my quarters. He’s being well cared for.”

“Can I see him?”

The lift arrived and the doors parted.

“I’ll think about it,” he replied, stepping into the car.

“Ned!”

He turned around to face her.

“I said I’d think about it.”

The lift doors snapped closed. He closed his eyes and as the lift car slowly made its ascent to the bridge he leaned back against the curve of its wall.

“It never rains, but it pours,” he said softly to the empty car.


Captain Burton was sitting on his double bed reading over the latest information about Denobulan customs and traditions. He was trying to cram as much as he could, so he was useful to the Secretary if she needed his support in the negotiations. However, he found his body telling him he was exhausted from so much work today. He was finally glad to take a break from being on duty. He had caught a late dinner with Commanders Levesque and Stanton. The three of them were slowly forming a good working relationship, even as they took their time to get to know each other. After dinner he had retired to his quarters, taking a shower and was now sitting just in his pyjamas. He wore just a black vest and grey bottoms. He was about to start practicing how to do the formal Denobulan greeting when his bed and the rest of the ship jerked harshly several times.

He put the tablet down and tapped the nearest communications panel. “Burton to the bridge, report!”

The convoy is under attack by six Orion raiders sir!” came a response.

“Damn it.” Burton replied as he rushed off his bed, picked up his Starfleet hoodie and literally sprinted to the nearest lift to get to the bridge. 

Once he arrived on the bridge, he found himself slightly out of breath. 

“We’re dropping out warp!” Crewman Todd Kipling declared from the helm. “So is the rest of the convoy.” He added.

The captain nodded towards Ensign Martha Habiba who had been sitting in the centre chair and was now vacating it for him. “Charge all weapons and polarise the hull plating.” He ordered as he sat down. “Take evasive action as you bring us around Mister Kipling!” 

The Delta Shift team were all working in unison as the captain handed out orders. “Lock phase cannons on the nearest target and fire at will!”

Ensign Cortez, the current armoury officer on duty, nodded as she targeted Challenger’s weapons and fired them. “Direct hit sir, but not enough to do any real damage.”

“Photonic torpedoes, maximum yield then.” Burton ordered as the ship rocked again. “Fire!” 

Challenger fired a barrage of its torpedoes at the Orion ship they were fighting. While around them the Andorian warship, the Kemaree was throwing everything it had at another two Orion ships. The Tal’Kit, a Vulcan D’kyr-class cruiser, was also engaging two enemy ships while the Tellarite cruiser, the Brere, was battling it out with the last Orion raider. The battle was fierce as the two sides slogged it out against each other. 

“Hull plating is down to fifty-three percent sir!” shouted Cortez after two Orion raiders hit Challenger with a barrage of disruptor fire.

Ensign Habiba quickly followed with another loud announcement. “Sir, I’m detecting a massive energy surge coming from one of the Orion ships.”

At that moment the bridge’s lift doors opened to reveal the arrival of Commander Levesque, Lieutenant Commander Callahan with Ensigns Alcott and Hennessey. Just as Burton was about to respond to Habiba’s statement he had turned around to see his senior staff reporting for duty and was horrified as he witnessed both Levesque and Alcott disappear in a flash of green light as they were transported off the ship. 

It had felt like everyone had paused for a second in shock from what had just happened. “Get them back!” Burton shouted as he interrupted everyone’s glare. 

Ensign Habiba was trying to get a sensor lock. “I’m finding it difficult sir to locate them.”

Burton tapped the comm. unit built into his chair. “Bridge to Engineering, Commander Stanton, we need to boost power to the sensors to increase their resolution.”

Sorry captain, Lieutenant Masuko here. Commander Stanton and Crewmember Stahl just disappeared in what looked like a transporter effect.” Stanton’s deputy responded. “I’m afraid I can’t boost the sensors any further. That last hit knocked out several power relays; we’re having a tough time keeping the reactor stable.

Challenger shuddered several more times as sparks blew behind the captain’s left ear and smoke began to fill the bridge. The captain coughed a few times and used his hoodie’s sleeve to cover his mouth. “Do whatever you can lieutenant to keep us in the waters!” He said, knowing that wouldn’t be enough.

“Captain, the other ships in the convoy have been disabled and the Orions are preparing to jump to warp.” Habiba revealed as she studied her current sensor readings. 

Burton was about to order Callahan to hit them with everything they had but was too late as the Orions flew past Challenger, firing several shots at her and ended up knocking her weapons offline. The Orion raiders all formed up alongside each other and jumped to warp. Captain Burton sat there in despair. Their first real engagement and they lost with the enemy kidnapping a number of their crew. He clenched his fists as he hit the side of his chair slightly in frustration. “Damn it.” He muttered to himself for no one else to hear.

TEN

Challenger NX-03
Saturday February 8th, 2155

“No, no, no Commander, that is simply unacceptable!” 

“Well I’m truly sorry to hear that Commander Shras.” Levesque said for what felt like the hundredth time in the last half an hour. Since the ship went to tactical alert Commander Vindishras th’Vanatar, the head of Ambassador zh’Thachker’s Personal Guard, had been taking issue with the security plans drawn up by Commander Callahan and Major Yu. His major issue seemed to be that MACOs were protecting the Ambassador rather than his own people.

“I don’t want more apologies; I want you to listen to me.” Shras said standing up.

“I have listened to you Commander. So has our Chief Amoury Officer and MACO Commander, and we have all come to the same conclusion. Our security forces are more than able to provide any necessary security aboard this ship, and our forces will handle precautions. This is our ship and we know it better.” Levesque said standing from her own seat.

“My people know this ship as well as yours.” Shras quickly countered.

“Yeah, because the one thing that’s going to change my mind, is telling me that the Andorian Imperial Guard knows the layout of Earth’s most advanced ships as well as her crew.” Levesque replied sarcastically. 

“That is not my concern, it is fact, and we shouldn’t let your pride get in the way.” 

“You are the last person who should be talking about pride Commander. Ever since you got here all I’ve heard is how your staff is superior to ours. And despite how adamant, or confident or arrogant you are, it isn’t going to change my mind!” Levesque finished, she and Shras now nose to nose. It took a moment, but both finally relented and took their seats again. “Ambassador zh’Thachker’s personal protection is still the responsibility of you and your two men, but I won’t garrison your entire protection detail aboard Challenger. End of story.”

“Very well, I won’t bring the subject up again.” Shras said sitting back in his chair, relaxed but not defeated, Levesque noticed.

“I’m glad,” She replied, sitting back in her own chair mirroring Shras’ position. “You know Shras, you may be the most thick-headed man I have ever worked with. I really do hope this isn’t a common cultural trait of your people.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Shras deadpanned.

“If that’s what you want to believe, then please feel free to keep deluding yourself.” She was surprised to hear Shras laugh after she finished her comment. Since he had arrived on board Challenger the Andorian Commander hadn’t even raised an eyebrow let alone smiled. She was completely taken off guard and nearly missed what he was saying to her.

 “Very good Commander. Oh, I hope your pink skin Foreign Secretary has the same sense of humour, it will make these talks much more interesting!” 

Before she could respond the ship began to shudder under her feet. As each impact grew more and more violent both knew that the convoy was under attack. Grabbing her phase pistol from the desk Levesque followed Shras out of her quarters onto E Deck. Immediately after stepping through the hatchway she was slammed into the bulkhead across the way and collapsed onto the deck. Shaking the cobwebs from her head, Levesque saw several other crewmembers attempting to stagger to their feet.

While still trying to regain her footing, Levesque made her way toward the nearest lift. It seemed like every few steps the ship lurched just enough to once again throw her to the deck or into a bulkhead. It took some time, but she was eventually able to throw herself into a lift moments before nearly being run over by Commander Callahan. From the shuddering of the lift as they ascended toward the bridge Nicole figured they were under attack from several different vessels. Hopefully they would be able to withstand the attack as well as Enterprise and Columbia did. 

As she and the other officers piled out onto the bridge, Levesque barely had time to take stock of the situation before she was immobilised, and her perspective seemed to change. 


“Tactical Alert, you all heard it!” Major Yu barked out as her team assembled their kit rapidly in the MACO Equipment Bay. Pulse phase rifles, flash grenades, phase rifles, and stun-tonfa…and the odd piece of specialized equipment; All were being handed out and secured to uniforms. “We haven’t had time yet to finalize deployment strategies, so for the moment, I want a fire team on every deck. Five teams, seven decks. Assault Alpha will cover Deck-C and Assault Beta will be Deck-D.”

She glanced at the assault team leaders as they nodded in response and readied their rifles. “Jawohl, Major!” replied the leader of Assault Alpha, Sgt. “Blitz” Hardberger. 

Yu turned to Second Lieutenant Kwala al-Fayyad, the head of the Support team: a young fly girl of Egyptian descent. “The Support Team has E Deck. Familiarity with the drop bays and sickbay and all that.”

“Aye ma’am.” Kwala acknowledged as she adjusted the power levels on her sidearm.

“The Recon Team has F and G Decks.” Yu nodded and moved on to her Iyer staff sergeant and the company’s top sniper and Recon Leader. “That’s a lot of ground, but F Deck is full of Armoury personnel so you should have ready backup.”

Yu slid a stun tonfa into its sheath on her belt as she finally came to her own fire team. “That leaves B Deck and the bridge for the Command team.”

“B deck and the bridge module are small sir, are we splitting up or do we move as one?” Asked Corporal Nawang Rai, the heavy weapons expert of the Command squad, who’s ancestral warrior culture was evident from the personnel kukri sheath that hung from his belt.

Yu didn’t ponder the question and immediately replied. “We split into two. Corporal Rai is with me; we’ll cover the bridge. If these are pirates, command and control nodes on the ship will be targeted for capture.”

The Gurkha corporal saluted with an affirmative as he slid his kukri into its sheath and then adjusted the stock on his pulse rifle for his compact frame.

“Armoury Personnel have their positions to guard and stations to man, so they are a stationary defence.” The Major continued, once again addressing all of the MACOs. “We will be active in defence, so stay constantly on the move and keep an eye out for intruders, structural or systems damage, and injured crewmen…otherwise, try and keep out of Starfleet’s way. With any luck, our special brand of services won’t be needed.”

Yu slung her phase rifle over her shoulder and readied her side arm. “I would have liked to have more extensive drills and exercises first, but nothing beats the real thing I suppose. You’re ready and you all know your jobs?”

“Aye Major!” Came an affirmative, union of replies.

“Then move out, MACOs!”

A final salute and the teams dispersed from the equipment bay in ordered, but extremely rapid fashion. As they reached F Deck’s main hall’s T-junction, they split off: The Recon Team under Staff Sergeant Iyer took a right to begin their patrol of the lowest two decks, while Lieutenant al-Fayyad’s group of specialists and Assault Beta took a left to head to the secondary lift to take them to their respective decks.

The remaining combined group of eight went straight-ahead down the hallway to the primary lift that took them directly to C deck.

“Ma’am. Mind if I ask a personal question?” Asked Sergeant Johan “Blitz” Hardberger as they piled into the lift.

“Go ahead, Sergeant.” Yu replied. “Bear in mind that I may not answer such a question while all eight of us are packed into a single lift…and I reserve the right to wipe the gym floor with your arse if it’s in poor taste.”

“Noted.” Blitz replied with a grin. “It’s about your name actually. Your Victoria with a ‘K’, not exactly the normal English spelling.”

“I see what you’re getting at.” Yu replied as she glanced around. “My first name is Germanic. Mutter war ursprünglich aus Baden-Württemberg.”

“Ja?” Blitz said with a small grin on his face. “Ich bin geboren und aufgewachsen in Hesse mich! Your German is very good. Your first language?”

“Nien.” Viktoria answered. “Vierter. My mother never actually used German around the household when I was growing up…I picked up English and Cantonese first…then like every Anglophone Canadian, I was taught French in elementary school. German came in secondary school.”

“Danke Major for indulging my curiosity.” Hardberger said as the lift came to a stop on Deck C and the doors opened.

“You’re welcome Sergeant, now get to work.” Yu replied as she pointed out to the hallway the Blitz team began to move into.

The doors closed and the lift began moving again, now seeming much more spacious with only four occupants. “We’ll all get off on B deck…you two go left and begin your patrol. Rai and I will go right and make our way to the bridge access lift…try and avoid messing up any experiments in deck B’s labs. That’s how bad science fiction novels sta-“

Corporal Nawang Rai blinked twice, making sure he wasn’t seeing things, as his commander vanished right before his eyes. “…Major?”

Quickly, he took out his communicator and signalled the bridge. “Bridge. This is Corporal Rai…Major Yu just vanished from the forward lift.”


Unknown Orion Pirate Frigate

“-start.” The disorienting effects of a surprise transporter barely even phased Yu, who had just enough time to finish her sentence to realize the relevant information that surrounded her. One, she was no longer in the lift but in a more darkly lit chamber on a lit-up dais. Two, there were rather large green-skinned men advancing on her.

That’s all she needed to level her pistol on the nearest and pull the trigger.

Unfortunately, that did nothing but make a clicking sound as the trigger was squeezed. Disabled by the transporter beam? How the hell does that work? She thought as she went to plan B, chucking the pistol like a small blunt tomahawk at her target instead, creating an opportunity for her to draw her tonfa to charge the second, stunning end first.

It connected and the green giant’s face tightened up, but behind the clenched teeth came an ominous laugh as he fought right through the stunning energy and knocked Yu back with a powerful front kick.

Yu grunted as she fought to keep air in her lungs and flipped the tonfa around to guard her forearm, raising it up quickly into a karate high block to deflect an incoming punch, immediately adjusting her stance to launch a counter punch into the Orion’s side.

That only made him laugh again as he sent a backhanded fist right across Yu’s face. She had just enough time to let out a “Sonufa-” before she blacked out…only to wake up moments later, in a cage.


The dark cool grey and blue lighting of Challenger’s bridge was gone, replaced by a stark yellow-green room filled with Orions. Ignoring the almost painful tingling of the Orion’s transporter, Levesque drew her phase pistol and aimed it at the nearest pirate. Before she could squeeze the trigger, a massive green hand slammed down on her wrist with enough force that she could swear it broke. Levesque couldn’t help but cry out in pain as she was forced to drop her weapon. Making a last attempt to fight off her abductors, Levesque found herself being picked up by her throat and thrown against the nearest bulkhead. For an instant as she fell unconscious, she thought she heard someone else struggling in the room.


Ensign Ezrah Alcott was quite literally tossed into the empty cell. His teeth clattered together as his body hit the hard metal surface of the deck with a sickening thud. The transport from Challengerto the alien ship had been more disorienting for him; his body not at all accustomed to the adverse effects of the transporter. His head swam in considerable dizziness, the effects of which caused him to collapse from vertigo onto the transporter pad itself and immediately vomit, his face red from the pressure as well as the embarrassment he felt from displaying such weakness so immediately.

Shortly thereafter, he’d not even had a chance to gain any semblance of orientation before two very strong hands wrapped around his lithe frame and quite easily lifted him from the transporter pad. His head shook from side to side in an attempt to rid himself of the debilitating dizziness. As he started to gain his bearings, he came under the realization of his current predicament. His heart beat wildly against the inside of his chest as he called out for help. Biceps flexing, he tried to wrestle free of the Orion’s vice-grip to no avail. Leg’s hanging, he then tried kicking, landing several successful hits with the heels of both feet.

The Orion spoke out in frustration and anger, probably due to a little surprise too, but most likely not from pain. Alcott didn’t understand one word the alien spoke, which made the situation all the more unbearable. He felt the Orion’s firm hold around his upper torso loosen just enough for him to slip free, undoubtedly due to a bit of distracted confusion from being pitifully assaulted. Falling to the deck, he landed on both knees, the grated material digging into the bare flesh. He yelped in pain but tried to stay focused. The corridor in which they were located was very wide but didn’t offer many options for a successful escape; he was also less than familiar with the interior configuration of an Orion pirate ship. As he made to run away in the opposite direction of the Orion, he felt those same strong hands on him again. He cried out in fear and tried to squirm away to no avail.

“Let me go!” Alcott demanded, the foreign words falling on deaf ears. “Please! Please let me go!” He didn’t understand the reason for the abduction nor what the Orion wanted with him. When back on Challenger, he had occupied the lift heading towards the bridge with Commander Levesque, Lieutenant Commander Callahan and Ensign Hennessy. Upon arrival and when the initial effects of the transporter started to take hold, he thought he saw one of the two senior officers also transported away but couldn’t be certain of that either. Was he really alone in this?

The entire trip to the cell, he had tried fighting the Orion as best he knew how; but the green-skinned man was far too physically superior. When they’d arrived at the dark, dank compartment, the Orion simply tossed the pilot into confinement as if he were nothing more than a burlap sack of potatoes.

Picking himself up from the deck, he rushed the cell door in one last attempt to escape, but it had already slid shut, lock secured. The Orion mumbled something at Alcott and, although he couldn’t understand the words, he knew they were spoken out of mild frustration, but mostly amusement.

“Please! Wait! What do you want with me?” His voice cracked harshly as he called after the mountain of a man, eyes following his departure until left alone.

It was at that moment that Alcott started to panic; like a caged animal, he started to crawl the walls, scrutinizing every nook and dark corner for anything that might prove beneficial or useful to his escape. His body involuntarily shuddering in fear, he also realized just how very cold the compartment was. 

When reporting to the bridge at the sound of the tactical alert, Alcott had been sleeping soundly. Dressed in a pair of navy-blue night shorts and a white t-shirt, he’d retrieved the navy-blue zip-hoody that hung by the door to his quarters on his hasty departure. It was one of his favourite off-duty garments, with the emblem of Challenger screen printed over the left breast. He was also barefoot, not thinking about slipping on socks or a pair of slippers. Not the most ideal outfit for an abduction, but of course that hadn’t even been considered as an outcome in his need to report to the bridge.

Spending several more minutes searching, he found not one item or weakness in the cell’s composition that would help him to escape. Succumbing to physical and mental exhaustion, he retreated to the back right corner of the cell and slid down its grimy, rusted bulkhead to the deck below. Pulling either knee up to his chest, he wrapped both arms around his legs as icy-blue eyes flickered nervously from the cell gate to the egress beyond. All at once, thoughts of his family, friends, those he served with on the Challengerleft to some unknown fate and so much more overwhelmed the young boy. His forehead pressed into either knee, as he forced both eyes shut and clenched his teeth together before screaming out.

“LET ME GO!”


Challenger NX-03

Sickbay was a perfect example of organised chaos. Ben-Ami was in control of the situation as far as she could. Who would have thought that this soon into a cruise the shit would literally hit the fan? She deftly moved her hands as she sutured the leg of the injured armoury crewman. She wanted him patched up as soon as possible to be back on the floor. She had no idea what had happened to the ship, internal communications appeared to be down, but from what she had managed to gleam from the injured personnel, they had been attacked by Orions, anything more than that was still a complete mystery.

She tied off the suture and called over a nurse to finish dressing the wound, “Give him some analgesia and get him out” she said as she turned to walk away, removing the surgical gloves as she did so and gently tossing them into the bin. She looked around; there were still eight crewmembers to treat, thankfully with minor injuries. She heard the hiss of the doors opening and turned, “If you can walk in here you’re back of the queue” she said without turning around, “Nurse Griffiths” she said calling to one of the nurse practitioners working on a head trauma, “Any signs of concussion?”

“No Ro-fa.”

“I’m not injured,” said Callahan as he approached the Chief Medical Officer, though he did cough. Smoke inhalation did that for you. “But I do need just a second of your time, Doctor. Just a second.”

Ben-Ami walked over to the injured engineer, she checked the readings from the main sensor and then placed a hypo-needle to his leg, “Then you can hold this young man’s leg while I operate” she said gesturing the Commander over. She began by ripping open his trouser leg to expose the area, she pointed to the tray on the other side of the table that the commander was approaching, “a swab please.”

Callahan blinked, but did as he was told, resting one hand on the engineer’s leg while he plucked a swab from the tray and passed it over. “Captain’s gonna need a report on the crew’s status. I appreciate you don’t get the time to just shout it over the comm.”

Ben-Ami took the swab and began cleaning the area to get a better view of the wound. “It looks like a simple laceration across the femoral artery.” she could have it patched up in a few minutes; she made sure the area was clear of dried blood and dropped the swab into a tray, “Chance would be a fine thing. Comms went out with the first rocking” she said as she picked up a small scanner from the tray, “rotate the leg twenty-five degrees your left.”

He did so, brow furrowing. “Then what’s our status, Doc? We’ve been hit hard; we need to know how hard so we can deal with the situation.”

Ben-Ami did not respond for a moment as she was setting the scanner back and picking up a small lancet, she put it close to the wound for a moment before changing her mind and setting it back, she then lifted a small laser scalpel “Looks like the femoral profunda is out of use” she said with a sigh, “If I can excise the damaged artery and replace with…” she looked around the tray, “Nurse Griffiths, I need some artificial arterial membrane!” she called out, within moments the large Welsh woman had placed it on the tray. She began using the scalpel to remove the damaged artery, “Our status?” she said as if recalling the Commander had spoken to her, “We have one fatality. Poor kid was taken out by a support strut separating his head from his neck.” she said almost sarcastically, “Nineteen other injuries, three of those are serious and are currently recouping after surgery, the other sixteen should be back on their feet soon. Some will be good to go in twenty minutes or so, the other it could take a few hours.” she said as she used a small pair of forceps to remove the damaged artery, she dropped it in the tray, and began inserting the artificial membrane, holding it in place with her right hand on the forceps, she took her left hand and reached for a small fine tipped tube, she placed it on the edges of the membrane she had placed.

Callahan made a face, first at the state of the wound, then at her words. He wasn’t unaccustomed to injuries, but he was usually doing something when he was confronted with them, and none of his usual coping mechanisms were available to him right then.

He still preferred to have a reaction, though in that second he envied Challenger’s Chief Medical Officer.

“Understood,” he said, watching her work. “As soon as you get a moment the Captain will want numbers on whose long-term out of action. Are you command-qualified at all, Doc?”

Ben-Ami removed her forceps and called over to Nurse Griffiths again, “Irene close him up” she said as she handed over to the large woman and removed her gloves, “He’ll have a formal report in twenty minutes” she said as she walked over to her desk and sipped her now cold tea, “As to your question, yes I am.” she said grudgingly swallowing the cold tea, “I went through full Starfleet commissioning, and prior to that I was a Seren, sorry Captain, in the IDF” she set down the cup, “Although I did the full commission unlike most of my counterparts in blue, I don’t think you will ever reach a point where you need me on the bridge more than you need me in sickbay.”

“You say that,” said Callahan, “and it’ll be the skipper’s call when all’s said an’ done, but right now you got the highest rank after me an’ him.” He met her gaze, blue eyes deadly serious, though his voice dropped to not carry across sickbay. “We got hit hard; several abductions on top of the injuries includin’ Commanders Levesque an’ Stanton, an’ Major Yu.”

“Abducted?” she said almost gobsmacked, “Where the hell are we? Texas?” she added some sardonic humour, “Please don’t tell me they got our cows…”

“We ain’t in neither Texas nor Kansas no more, Doc,” he said, intentionally enunciating his drawl. “Orion pirates, most often they like to hammer ships so they can scavenge the wreckage for their uses, but sometimes they like to turn their hand to some slavery. That’s when the rustlin’ starts. An’ since chances are good their goals are to disrupt this convoy, I guess they were happy to take what they could get.”

“Are they likely to be coming back? Isn’t that their usual MO, hit you hard, let you recover then hit you harder?” she paused, “What about the big wigs?”

“The Secretary’s safe,” he assured her. “An’ they might come back; so far they haven’t stopped the convoy and if that’s their goal we can expect a whole lot more violence coming up. I don’t know what our next move is, so all I can do is… make ready.” There was certainly a flash of apprehension on the suddenly advanced Armoury Chief’s face.

“I’m sure we can handle anything they throw at us Commander” she said supportively, “I’ll be on the bridge with my report when I have cleared up down here” she said, “Anyone injured on the bridge?”

“Just bumps an’ scrapes.” He jerked a head in the direction of the Armoury officers. “How’re my boys?”

“Ah yes” she said almost sombrely, “The one who had a run in with a support strut? That was Crewman Kincaed.” she looked at the Commander, “I’m sorry Commander”

He turned at that, physically staggered by the news, and clearly scrambled for his composure. “You… you carry on with your work down here, Doc. I’ll talk to my men an’ then I’ll be back on the bridge. I’m sure the skipper will appreciate a report ASAP.”

“Yes Commander” she said with a slight nod, as she drained the last of her cold tea and carried on with her injured patients.

Callahan watched her go, and then looked over at his recuperating Armoury officers. He’d assumed they were battered, rather than reeling from the loss of one of their fellows. He was needed back on the bridge – but first –

He squared his shoulders, fixed his expression, and went over to see his men.


Within a matter of minutes Challenger had engaged in its first battle since its launch. Under the circumstances the crew had dealt with the situation commendably, especially with the loss of a number of its senior staff. Once the battle had been dealt with, Captain Burton had returned to his quarters, quickly got changed into his uniform and was back out in the corridors to deal with the current crisis.

Thankfully he was pleased that his yeoman, Jamie Harris, wasn’t one of the eleven crewmembers that had been abducted. Harris was waiting outside the captain’s quarters with a tablet in his hands. “Here you go sir; the list of our missing crew.” He said as he passed the information over.

Burton gave an inwards moan as he read the list.

  • Commander Nicolette Levesque
  • Commander Michael Stanton
  • Major Viktoria Yu
  • Ensign Ramya Dey
  • Ensign Ezrah Alcott
  • Ensign Kimberly Brewster
  • Crewmember John Stahl
  • Crewmember Evan Davies
  • Corporal Natalie Lafontaine
  • Private Liam Jenkins

Almost every department, besides the medical and communications department, had suffered a loss. “Thank you, Jamie.” Burton replied as he gave the tablet back and began his march down the hallway. “Work with Ensign Hennessey in keeping Secretary Campbell informed of our current situation. Brief her and her staff on what has happened. Let them know repairs are underway and I will speak to them once I know more on the situation. Also have Ned contact the rest of the convoy; we need to know what everyone else’s situation is.”

“Aye sir.” Harris replied and took the cue to get straight on with his new assignment as he left the captain’s presence as he turned down one of the corridor junctions. 

Burton made his way towards engineering, passing a number of crew who were busy dealing with various matters to get the ship back up and operating again. He eventually arrived at the main door of engineering and pulled on the handle to unlock the massive door so he could enter. Stepping through the archway he once again found himself presented with orderly chaos. He could hear Lieutenant Masuko barking out orders to various engineers. 

He found Stanton’s deputy standing up on the raised platform by the warp reactor working on trying to get the ship’s main source of energy back online. “Report lieutenant?” He asked the Japanese woman. 

She automatically turned around to see Burton and soon climbed down the platform to speak with her captain face-to-face. “Initial assessments of our damage have been completed and I’m confident that we’ll be back on our feet within four hours.”

“That’s good to hear, but exactly what damage have we sustained?” Burton asked as he began to inspect the damage around the warp core.

Masuko followed her commanding officer with her hands grasped behind her back. “The warp plasma injectors overloaded a number of their circuits, and two EPS conduits have been knocked out. If Crewman Stahl were here, he would be able to get those conduits up and running within no time. I served with him previously on the Lexington and he was absolutely gifted, sir. That all said I’ve got teams working hard to get the repairs completed.”

Burton nodded in satisfaction. He knew that Masuko wasn’t Stanton’s choice as the Second Engineer, but she was an impressive engineer and capable leader too. “Right well how can I help?” He asked. Right now, there was nothing else he could do on the bridge and having spent so long on other ships he had developed his engineering skills to be quite competent.

She smiled at his offer. “Thank you, sir. You could help me by replacing a couple of the burnt-out circuits for the plasma injectors.” She said as he gestured to the broken consoles and controls on a nearby wall.

Burton smiled. “Done.” He said and made his way over to where she pointed and began to inspect the damage he needed to repair.

Half an hour later Captain Burton was sitting on the deck of Main Engineering fixing the damaged circuit panel that was needed to get the warp plasma injector back online. He was just in the process of re-attaching the optic fibre leads to the main console when a shadow formed over him. Looking up he saw the serious expression of his current acting first officer, Lieutenant Commander John Callahan, staring down at him. 

“How many?” Burton asked in a sombre tone. He already regretted asking the question, as he knew that the expression across Callahan’s face meant the ship had suffered fatalities. 

Callahan folded his arms across his chest, his impassive gaze barely shifting. “Just the one.” There was nothing light in his voice about the term ‘just’.

The answer stung the captain’s heart and he winced too. As he took out a micro-calibre he asked; “Who?”

“One of my Armoury boys.” Callahan’s voice was a little thick. “Ben Kincaed.”

“Damn.” He replied under his breath, now feeling absolutely gutted and devastated that it was one of the armoury crew he had picked out. “Kincaed was only just out of training.” He placed the tool and gave out another big sigh. He leant over to where a computer tablet was sitting near to his knee and picked it up. As he did, he flicked the switch on and passed it to Callahan. “A status report from every ship in the convoy.” He indicated. “The Andorians don’t have warp drive and their entire command crew were abducted. Ambassador Magerit has transferred with her staff to the Kemaree. She was a former general, so her rank is still partially active. She’ll be commanding the ship until the situation is dealt with. The Vulcans have taken damage to their weapons and sensors while the Tellarites are having computer problems. Apparently the Orions uploaded a virus into their networks. Overall we’re probably in better condition than the rest of them.”

“That’s a helluva sorry prospect in and of itself,” Callahan growled, flicking through the data. “We’re going to have a tough time protectin’ the convoy all the way to Denobula if we don’t get any backup. We didn’t dent the attack squadron nearly enough for me to feel confident they ain’t gonna come have another pop at us.”

Burton had finished the repairs while Callahan was talking and soon brought the console back to life. He was mildly satisfied with his efforts as he stood up. “We’ve got to get our people back first.” he paused as he rubbed his chin. He could slight stubble forming where he had yet to shave that evening. “Work with every other tactical and science officer in the convoy. See who was able to see where the Orions were heading. Then begin working on strategies for us to successfully engage the Orion raiders. I’ll focus on the repairs and our VIPs.”

Callahan drew a deep breath, looking around Engineering. It was quiet, their low voices not carrying far through the cavernous room, no engineers in sight who might overhear them. Nevertheless, his voice dropped a few decibels. “Beggin’ your pardon, sir, but we got hit. Hard. That attack was over in less than ten minutes an’ in that time they’ve gutted the military capability of this convoy, both in the ships and in the personnel. Now, I can analyse the tactical data an’ work on some scenarios which don’t wind up with us chewin’ on vacuum for breakfast, but those are all gonna be relying on a hefty dose of luck to determine the outcome.” He grimaced. “Don’t get me wrong, sir, Lady Luck’s a spacer’s best friend, but I don’t know if we should be countin’ on her as our top ally while the VIPs an’ this conference are our responsibility.”

Burton sighed. He had already thought of all what Callahan had just said. “Thank you, Commander. Your comments are noted.” he paused as he stood up, now face to face with his acting first officer. “But this convoy is more than just a convoy. It’s a representation of what this coalition was formed on. The idea is we need to work together to achieve the greater good.” Again, he stopped knowing there was no point making that sentimental speech to Callahan. He was like Burton, an armoury officer and well educated about latest affairs. “We just need to work with our allies John to get this to work. Get on with the tactical analysis and then share with your counterparts on the other ships. Let’s make this alliance work.” He ordered. 

Callahan nodded in agreement and soon left his captain to carry on with what he was doing.


Silence hung in the lift car as it slowly descended from the bridge to G deck. Finally, Crewman Jamie Harris spoke to the lift’s only other occupant.

“Are you all right, sir?”

Ned Hennessy didn’t immediately reply, nor did he face the young crewman.

“I saw two people disappear into thin air right in front of me,” he finally said. “What do you think?”

“Okay,” Harris said quietly, mostly to himself.

The lift slowed to a stop and the doors snapped open.

Hennessey had not anticipated being back to this area of the ship so soon, and certainly not to deliver such dire news. 

This time, the Secretary’s husband, Robert Campbell, answered the door.

“What’s going on?” he asked immediately, ushering Hennessy and Harris into the cabin. “We’re totally in the dark down here. What’s Burton trying to play here?”

“We were attacked.” It sounded idiotic as the words came out of his mouth, but he plodded ahead: casualties, damage, repair time. With each new bit of information, even more of a pall settled on the stateroom. He noticed his ex-wife, Jane, seated on the stateroom’s sofa. As the narrative increased in severity, she rose and began pacing the deck.

“And,” Hennessey concluded, “ten crew members were abducted during the melee.”

“How?” Secretary Campbell asked. Jane stopped mid stride and turned to face the two Starfleet crewmembers.

“Transporter, ma’am,” Harris answered. “There was little we could do to stop it.”

As Harris spoke, Ned flashed back to that moment on the bridge when he and the others stepped out of the lift. The green flash of energy. Alcott and Levesque disappearing. The helmsman was the first person from the ChallengerHennessey had met. They had already made plans for a signing lesson over lunch in the mess. He was old enough to be the son Hennessey never had. 

And Levesque, in spite of their initial introduction, was a formidable researcher. From the linguistics lab, Hennessey had observed her at work with her staff. In her he could see a glimpse of a kindred academic. She possibly was someone he’d feel comfortable showing his journal articles to. One day.

“Ensign?”

Someone had been talking to him, asking him a question while Ned was letting his mind wander.

“I’m sorry…what was the question?”

“What about the other ships? Casualties? Abductions?” It was the Secretary’s husband.

“The Andorian ship’s entire command crew was abducted,” Hennessy answered. “The ambassador has assumed command. She apparently retired from the military.”

Hennessy wrapped up his report by inviting, on Captain Burton’s behalf, Secretary Campbell to a meeting between the convoy’s respective ship captains. Campbell nodded, saying she would be there.

“If there are no other questions,” Hennessey allowed his gaze to fall on Jane, who quickly looked away, “Crewman Harris and I are needed on the bridge.”

He half expected Jane to follow him out of the Secretary’s stateroom, but then again, he had Harris with him, and knew she disliked having an audience for their spats. Of course, they weren’t even their spats anymore. They were just two people who happened to know each other being disagreeable with one another.

“You married, Crewman?” he asked Harris.

“No, sir.”

“Good for you.”

ELEVEN

Challenger NX-03
Sunday February 9th, 2155

“Captain’s starlog, February 9th, 2155. Challenger’s crew have worked hard through the night to fix as much of our battle damage as possible. Words cannot express the tremendous pride I have for the crew’s efforts. We now are left to deal with ramifications of the attack and how we plan to rescue our missing comrades.”

Captain Burton was aching all over from the sleep he had missed. He had been awake for almost a whole day now. He had grabbed an hour’s nap earlier, but he couldn’t rest knowing members of his crew were elsewhere and not safe. 

He was walking down E deck towards the main conference where he would be meeting with the representatives from the other ships in the convoy he led. Once he entered the room, he was pleased to see that everyone was present and all sat around the central table, chatting quietly. His presence made them stop and pay their attention to him. He walked over to the chair at the head of the table and took it.

“Thank you all for coming at such short notice.” He began with. “I know we all want to get back to our own ships and quickly get underway.”

“That’s an understatement.” Ambassador Gouth spoke under her breath but loud enough for everyone to hear; typical Tellarite sarcasm. 

Burton ignored the comment as he looked at Secretary Campbell to his right who just shook her head, indicating to him to let Gouth say it without giving her the satisfaction of a response. “Ambassador Magerit,” Burton said, looking to the Andorian zhen to his left. “I believe the Kemaree was able to retrieve the long-range sensor scans it took after the Orions escaped.”

She nodded in response. “Fortunately for us, yes, unfortunately they were damaged. However, my science officer has been able to retrieve most of the data and has been able to determine the direction the Orions headed.”

“Where have they gone to?” asked Ambassador Soron who sat opposite to Magerit.

She looked at the Vulcan man for a moment and in her eyes, she seemed to hesitate about revealing the information to a former enemy but then in an instant she replied. “They’ve headed towards a star system that is less than eight light years from the Sol system.” She turned to the two Humans at the table. “I believe you call it the Wolf Three-Five-Nine system.”

Burton and Campbell both exchanged glances at each other. Burton quickly spoke up. “That makes sense for them to head to the Wolf Three-Five-Nine system. There are a number of asteroids in the system that would let you hide almost an entire fleet from long-range scans. Starfleet once considered using it as a staging ground for defence purposes but decided against it. We didn’t want to deploy such a large force from the home territories.”

Gouth interjected. “Perhaps after this mission is over, Starfleet will reassess that decision.” 

“If we are to be successful at retrieving our missing crews then we need to act now.” Soron added in a cool tone. “We should make our way to the Wolf Three-Five-Nine system at once.”          

Campbell looked around the table. “I’ve got no qualms of going in to find those who have been kidnapped, but are we prepared to engage the Orions?”

Soron answered the question. “I’ve spoken with the First Minister T’Pau and she has agreed to send two more ships to help with our search and rescue efforts. Both ships are Suurok-class and I am sure would be able to meet us at the Wolf Three-Five-Nine system by the time we arrive.”

“Six ships working together should be enough.” Burton said, assuring the Foreign Secretary. “So, it’s agreed then? We leave for the Wolf Three-Five-Nine system to see if the Orions are there.”

“And if they are captain?” Magerit inquired.

“Then we’ll find out where our people are being held and rescue them together.” He replied with conviction.


Unknown Orion Pirate Frigate

An unknown lapse in time had passed, leaving Alcott disoriented in remaining capable of maintaining any semblance of coherent linear time; he would normally try to establish this by the number of meals received in a day, but his Orion captors were less than regular and reliable at how often they provided food of any kind. There were long stretches of time when he didn’t eat at all, the pain of hunger constant. Even when the Orion’s did see fit to provide some form of sustenance, the gloop that passed for ‘food’ was essentially unrecognizable. Most often, he pushed the bowl aside, electing rather to languish in the continued discomfort of hunger.

He’d been visited on a few different occasions, pulled from the confines of the cell to be assessed in many different ways. On each occasion, Alcott had tried to beg and plead for release with his captors, but discovered they found his persistence to be nothing more than a very subtle annoyance. The Orion’s chose rather to ignore him most times. The visits proved to be uncomfortable at minimum and terribly invasive at their worst; Alcott quickly learned that he would do almost anything to avoid the visits altogether. On one such occasion, he’d literally been pulled from the cell by his hair and inspected from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. He didn’t understand the visits at first, but soon found from the inspecting Orions’ wandering hands what it was they were trying to determine. It was at that moment that Alcott knew exactly why he’d been abducted and what he could anticipate in the future. If a rescue didn’t happen, he was sure to be sold off into some form of slavery, either as a labourer or indentured servant of some kind… the latter of the two undoubtedly on the seedier side. It wasn’t a prospect of his future he intended to experience and had decided at that moment he would do whatever needed to be done and take whatever action was necessary to escape, whether in life or death.

Although he certainly didn’t like being poked, prodded and touched in such intimate ways, he was also aware that there wasn’t much he could do, especially as his own strength started to dwindle. At least not now.

The Orion’s pretty much left him alone for the most part and from what he could ascertain he was still one of the only captives held in this particular cellblock.

That soon changed, however. Alcott laid quietly in the darkest corner of the cell, curled into the foetal position, petrified eyes ever intent on the cell door as he heard the hatch to the compartment open and then close. His body trembled involuntarily, believing this visit was intended for another… inspection of some kind. But when he saw the limp bodies of Commander Levesque and Major Yu drug past his cell door, Alcott couldn’t help his heart’s quickened beat of hope. The opening and closing of cell doors soon followed suit and then the two Orion’s departed, a hushed conversation spoken between the two.

Crawling towards the cell door, he saw that the Commander and Major had been discarded in adjacent cells across from his own. Their garments and exposed bodies were severely stained with dirt and grime like his own and, although they didn’t move, he could tell both were still alive by the steady rhythm of their rising and falling chests.

“Commander?” His voice was much too weak and hoarse to rise above anything but a whisper, but his insistence soon paid off, “Commander Levesque? Please wake up…Commander?” He reached over to the forgotten food bowl near the front corner of the cell and removed the metal spoon. Aiming, he flicked it across the compartment so that it clattered against the bars of the Commander’s cell, hoping that would be enough noise to jostle the woman awake.

Levesque snapped awake, her eyes darting around the room unsuccessfully trying to take in every detail. Every time she had come to, her experience had been thoroughly unpleasant; and the myriad tests and exams each more invasive and violating than the last. That brief reminder about what had happened in what could only laughingly call the medical bay made her chest tighten up. It wasn’t that she hadn’t expected this kind of treatment. As soon as the Orion grabbed her in the transporter bay, she knew what to expect, having spent the first six years of her career aboard the Juno on the frontier hunting and fighting these pirates. Over the years she had seen first-hand what Orions and Nausicaans did to their captives. It seemed selfish considering she wasn’t the only one taken, but at that moment all she could think about was a slave ship the Juno had rescued when she was an Ensign. What the Orion “Comfort Women” had told her of their experiences had horrified her, leaving her with nightmares for years, and now it all came crashing back like she was twenty-two again. 

Doing her best to push these thoughts to the back of her mind, Levesque forced herself to try and get up. Before she got even half way vertical, she collapsed back to the deck grabbing her head. It felt like someone had lit a welding torch in back of her eyes. It took a few moments before the pain had dulled enough to try and raise herself off the deck again. Finally, able to take stock of her situation, Levesque looked quickly around her cell. Her new ‘accommodations ’were quite different than the isolated cell she had been locked in. Large instead of small, barred walls instead of solid, a couple of bunk beds along the back wall in place of the single bench she had been sleeping on; this cell was made to hold at least a half dozen captives. Levesque quickly patted her uniform down hoping that there was something left in the insane number of pockets that would be useful. Unfortunately, the Orions were as thorough in their searches as they were in their exams, there was not one piece of equipment left to her; and to make matters just that much more annoying, they had seen fit to only return the outer jumpsuit portion of her uniform. Wrapping the tattered uniform around her, Levesque let out an almost defeated sigh as she looked across the gangway noticing a young human man. Squinting a bit, it took her a moment to place a name to the man’s face. 

“Alcott?”

Alcott breathed a sigh of relief, “Commander Levesque, am I sure glad to see you.” He croaked, icy-blue eyes shifting nervously from the Commander to the holding compartments entrance. “Are you and the Major okay?” His voice was shaky as he gestured towards the still unconscious Yu.

‘Okay’, yeah, that’s a relative term. Levesque briefly thought, as she shook the remaining cobwebs from her head. 

“Yeah, I’m… fine.” She finally said. “Not sure about Major Yu, she’s still out of it. How about you, Ensign, are you holding up?” 

He shook his head, “Not top-notch, Ma’am. I can’t believe this is happening.” His body trembled, causing his own voice to shake involuntarily as a wave of panic started to overcome him. “I’d almost convinced myself that I was alone. I don’t understand what they want with us, why would they-” The young, inexperienced Ensign was unable to utter another word before the Commander swiftly silenced him.

“Alcott! Look, I’m not sure how but we’re going to get out of this.” Nicolette began, trying to reassure the Ensign. “Either Challenger will come and find us, or we’ll take a ship and find them, ok?”

He shook his head, doubtful. “That’s if they’re even still alive… what if the Challenger‘s been destroyed?” He ventured voice still raw and raspy. “Then we really are out here completely on our own.” He managed icy-blue eyes somewhat distant as he reluctantly contemplated that very notion.

“We don’t know what’s happened and frankly it doesn’t matter. Even if I’m looking at Challenger’s broken hull with my own two eyes, I’m not going to let some Orion make me into a slave. I’m not sure how to go about that yet, but we’ll just deal with those issues as they come up. For now, let’s just focus on escaping… so I need to know, what have they tried to get out of you? Codes, ship specifications, deployments, what?” She asked moving toward the bars.

“Aside from some very thorough medical scans and…’physicals’, they’ve pretty much left me alone.” Alcott thought for a moment, trying to recall any unusual questions the Orion’s may have asked during his captivity pertaining to what the Commander’s request. He was at a loss, not remembering any of consequence; in truth, the Orion’s had treated him with a general disregard and only a passing curiosity.

“Ow… they didn’t have time, Commander, to ask me any questions.” Major Viktoria Yu spoke up as she regained consciousness and clutched her head. “Last thing I recall is getting knocked out after an embarrassingly one-sided fight.”

“Yeah, we’re going to have to find a way to tip the odds in our favour. Anyway, what about the guards? Have either of you noticed anything in particular about them?”

“Yes.” Alcott immediately spoke out. “There always seem to be two. Whenever one enters the compartment, the other stands guard at the door. They trade off each time one comes or goes.” He thought for another moment, “The shorter, stockier one doesn’t say a word… he usually just does whatever it is he’s been ordered to do and then leaves just as quickly. The taller, broader one is, well, not so very nice.” His memory flashed back to that specific guard literally tossing him into the cell when he was first abducted. “He was the one that usually restrained me when they came in to conduct their physical examinations.” Alcott shrugged. “He usually speaks, but I don’t understand the words.” He offered. “Oh! Also, there are long periods when the guards don’t come in at all… I’m not sure if that means anything, but when they enter the compartment, they usually try to do everything they can at that point in time. For instance, they’ll drop off… ‘food’… and then do whatever it is they need to do with me and then leave until the next meal is brought.” He offered in conclusion.

“Also, they can take a punch like a Nausicaan and hit back like a shuttlepod at ramming speed.” Yu added before regaining her composure and professionalism. “They are decently trained, expertly physically conditioned, equipped with specialized tech, and seem to use standard passive-incarceration tactics. Either they don’t see us as a threat, they don’t give a damn one way or the other, or they don’t have the numbers to use more effective and active tactics such as present guard shifts-“

Levesque quickly silenced them as the doors to the cell block opened. Craning her neck, she could just make out one of their Orion guards heading back toward the doors, away from one of the cells. Waiting a couple of more seconds they heard the familiar clanging of the cellblock doors. Nicolette nodded, and Viktoria continued talking.

“…present guard shifts and frontline response teams. They also have some sort of crazy tech in their transporter chambers that can disable a pulse phase rifle, because I know I checked and cleared my weapon when the alert sounded and there was no immediate reason why it didn’t function when I pulled the trigger on that guard. Localized EM fields insta-hacked automated systems, nullifying gas particles in the air…maybe something happened in the beam when I materialized, I don’t know. Neat trick though.”

“One more hurdle to overcome before we can get out of here… Major, were there any particular weaknesses in their strategy that you would prefer to exploit?” 

Yu frowned as she took a moment to think. “Not sure. We are low on good intelligence at the moment. If they’re not observing us, there’s a chance for a coordinated ambush…unfortunately, the only chance we can feasibly get for that, will be when they’re expecting it most. Damn, this brings me back to my days of cross-training in hostage scenarios with the European Hegemony’s SAS on Earth.”

The MACO leader stretched her neck and sighed. “I think biding our time and gathering what info we can would be our best bet…at the very least, until they start divvying us up…Orions divide their captures based on species, gender, physicality, and their own personal whims. If we get divided, your chances of escape down rather harshly.”

Commander Stanton gasped, as he was thrown to the deck plating in his cell. His head spun, as he tried to recover from having the wind knocked out of him, and he could barely see, after enduring a lengthy interrogation about the Challenger‘s technical specifications. Fortunately for him, they had just beat him and tried to coerce him with promises of an easy life as a pleasure slave, but he knew that their attempts to get information out of him would probably get more desperate, rather quickly. The one thing he couldn’t understand, though, was why they cared aboutChallenger‘s technology. They had been able to infiltrate the ship very easily, and from the looks of how the battle was going before he was beamed away, none of the ships in the convoy stood a real threat, at least alone.

From his cell in the rear of the cellblock, he eventually realized that he was hearing somewhat-familiar voices. He got up, unsteady on his feet, and walked over to the bars, looking out. “Hello?” he asked, all of his senses feeling impaired as he tried to figure out who it was.

“Commander Stanton…” the young commander replied, resting his head against the bars of his cell, as he looked down the cell block. “I’m starting to regret accepting this assignment,” he added, as the somewhat-familiar figures of the commander, major, and ensign became more visible to him.

“What, not enjoying frontier hospitality, Stanton?” Levesque quipped trying to lighten the mood. 

It was a relief to hear yet another familiar voice; Alcott’s fingers curled around the metal bars; forehead pressed against the space between as he strained to see the Professor. “They’re consolidating.” He noted passively, “I wonder if some of the cell blocks were beginning to get overcrowded?” The words were spoken under breath. In seeing that he wasn’t the only one abducted, Alcott started to wonder just how many others the Orion’s had been successful in scooping up and abducting prior to making their hasty departure; for all he knew, maybe their being placed together was deliberate or perhaps necessary due to prisoner over population.

He shook his head, attention returning to the Commander. “Ma’am, are we going to attempt an escape?”

“If the opportunity presents itself, yes…although I doubt that it will” Levesque said, the last bit hidden under her breath. It just seemed too odd, three coordinated raids against the diplomatic convoys, Orion ships that were not only able to match but defeat the most advanced starships of four races. And just in spite of a slave grab that netted four rather important senior officers from Challenger along with who knows how many others? No, it didn’t add up that after all that the Orions would be sloppy enough to give them a chance to escape.


Tuesday, February 11th, 2155

Challenger, NX-03

“Captain’s starlog, February 11th, 2155. Challenger, along with the Coalition task force, has reached the edges of the Wolf Three-Five-Nine system. Detailed scans of the area have yet to determine if the Orions are truly out there.”

“Anything?” Burton asked, sitting in the captain’s chair in the centre of Challenger’s bridge.

Ensign Habiba shook her head as she sat up from looking through the eye-scanner at the science station. She spun her chair round to face the rest of the bridge. “I’m afraid not sir. The amount of stellar bodies in the system makes it hard to determine any energy signature except those coming from the task force.”

“Alright, keep trying.” He ordered and then looked to Ensign Hennessy at the communication’s station. “Ned, inform the rest of the task force to spread out into our search groups.”

“Yes, Captain.” Hennessy lifted the receiver to his ear and began speaking, conveying Burton’s instructions in Vulcanian, Tellarite, then Standard.

The captain then looked to his chief armoury officer and acting first officer. “John, take us to tactical alert.” 

 The light around them dimmed and the bridge was saturated with the glow of the red lighting. “Aye capt’n.”  Callahan had replied before switching the ship away from its normal operational mode.

“Angie, take us in.” Burton ordered the pilot before him. They would begin their search for their missing crew with the Kemaree and Tal’Kit. The other group that consisted of the Tellarite ship and the two other Vulcan ships that had met them at Wolf Three-Five-Nine would search around the edge of the system first. 

Burton further back in his chair and watched the viewscreen as the ship moved forward, heading into the unknown. “Everyone let’s keep an eye out for our people.” He said, hoping they would find someone or something.

Nearly half an hour has passed since Challenger had entered the Wolf 359 system. The crew were taking their time along with their coalition allies to find the Orions, if the Orions were out there. Captain Burton had positioned himself in Challenger’s situation room and was sitting quietly analysing all the data they had on the Orion ships, trying to find as many weak spots they could use to their advantage. Besides him sat Lieutenant Commander Callahan who was doing exactly the same thing as he was. The two armoury specialists had kept focussed on their work and were so engrossed that neither of them heard the first set of proximity alarms going off from the science station.

“Captain, we’ve got something.” Ensign Habiba announced as she spun her chair around after looking through the science scope. 

Burton and Callahan placed what they had been working on and soon joined the junior science officer. She tapped a few buttons on the main science console and brought up the scan she had been reading. “It’s ever so faint but right there sir I’m detecting a low level energy signature that resembles the same power signature of the Orion craft that kidnapped our people.”

Excited at the prospect of finding the Orions, the captain smiled. “Well done Martha.” He said, patting her on her back. “Transfer the coordinates to the helm.”

“Aye sir.” She replied as she carried out her work while still keeping an eye on the blip she had discovered.

“Ensign, plot a course!” Captain Burton had ordered as he made his way to stand behind Ensign Hathaway at the helm. Commander Callahan had returned to the armoury station and began preparing for their engagement. “Ned,” the captain said, grabbing the communication officer’s attention. “Inform the task group to follow us.”

“Yes, sir,” Hennessy replied and began speaking quietly into the pickup mic on his console.

Challenger moved swiftly through the asteroid field, dodging the various rocks that hung there motionless. The Orion raider was sat within one of the craters of a larger asteroid.

“Sir I’m picking up Human, Vulcan, Tellarite and Andorian lifesigns on the Orion ship.” Habiba announced with a smile on her face. 

“Bingo!” Burton had said with a smug smile forming on his face. “Commander Callahan, I want you to hit them with everything we’ve got until their shields are down then disable their weapons and engines.”

“Aye sir.” Callahan replied as he programmed in the attack sequence they had planned.

Captain Burton sat in his chair and watched as they moved in on the Orion craft. Alongside Challenger was the Andorian warship Kemaree and the Vulcan combat cruiser Tal’Kit. The Tellarite ship, the Brere, was on its way too with two other Vulcan ships. Captain Burton had imagined the sight of the six ships as something quite remarkable and a sight he hoped would become regular between the four powers in the near future. 

“We’re within weapon’s range.” Callahan announced. 

Before the captain could respond the lift doors opened and Secretary Campbell walked out with her entourage. Burton welcomed the arrival of Earth’s Foreign Secretary with a polite nod. She had made it clear to him she and her staff would keep out of his way but Burton also knew she needed to see first-hand the current situation. Finally the captain turned his attention to the situation at hand and looked at the main view screen before him. The Orion ship sat within the confines of a reasonable sized crater that looked just over half the size of the Grand Canyon. Had they noticed their arrival? It was possible they hadn’t as they weren’t reacting or it was a possibility they were tempting the Coalition ships into a trap by playing the trapped animal routine. Either way Captain Burton wouldn’t let it get in the way of what he had to do.

“Fire.” He ordered coolly. 

Challenger, with its allied ships, all opened fire against the Orion raider. A ship that was nearly as big as Challenger but a lot slimmer and compact in width. Its shield crackled to life as it was pounded by fierce fire from the Earth, Andorian and Vulcan ships. Within a space of seconds, the Orion ship began to move out of the crater and attempt to flee the scene.

Once again Lloyd gave out more commands. “Pursuit course.” 

Challenger chased the ship and continued to fire photonic torpedoes and lances of directed energy beams from its phase canons. For the poor Orions they didn’t stand a chance as the Brere arrived with its two Vulcan escorts in front of it. They too joined in with opening fire on the Orion craft. 

“Their shields are failing.” Habiba stated as Challenger rocked slightly from fire from the Orion ship. “I’m getting a transporter fix on our missing crew. Transferring the data to the transporter.”

Burton hit the communication panel in his chair’s arm. “Burton to Masuko start beaming our people out of there.”

Aye sir.” Replied the Second Engineer who was currently manning Challenger’s transporter controls.

Burton also knew that his chief medical officer was down there too, ready to help with those who were injured and get them to sickbay straight away. 

“Captain long range sensors are detecting four Orion ships entering the asteroid field with another three heading into the system.” Habiba stated after the proximity alarm had beeped at her.

Burton turned to the science officer. “How long until they’re within weapon’s range?”

She peered down at the readings before her to calculate the answer. “The first group will be here in three minutes and the second wave will be here in seven minutes.”

“That’s enough time.” Burton said confidently. He was going to win this round with the Orions, whatever it took. He looked to his communications officer. “Tell the task group to go to plan B.”

Hennessey was holding his ear-pierce as he spoke. “Allied spacecraft, this is Challenger. Commence Plan B. Commence Plan B.”

Plan B had involved the Tal’Kit surrounding the Orion ship and placing it within its tractor beam while Challenger beamed the remaining kidnapped crewmembers off while the Andorian and Tellarite ships with two other Vulcan ships protected their flanks. They would begin to move away from the oncoming Orion re-enforcements too.

Two and half minutes later, Habiba spoke up again. “We’ve got everyone back sir and the Tal’Kit has released its tractor beam.”

Burton rose from his chair and stood before the helm as he stared at the disabled Orion craft they had battered to death. “Ned, open a channel to all the Orion ships.”

Still standing, Ned reached down and touched the hailing frequency controls. He nodded to Burton.

“Orion ships, this is Captain Lloyd Burton of the Earth ship Challenger. What you have just witnessed is the determination of our coalition with the Vulcan, Andorian and Tellarite governments to ensure our alliance works. Take this as your only warning, if you see any ship bearing the insignia of any of our worlds then run the other way as I promise you, we will retaliate with the full might of the Coalition of Planets.” He nodded to Ned to close the channel.

Hennessy complied, and took a seat.

“Plot a course for Denobula Ensign Hathaway. Maximum warp.” Burton ordered as he returned to his seat.

“Course laid in captain.” She replied.

“Engage.” Burton said as got comfortable in his chair, pleased with the success of his first mission.


Unknown Orion Pirate Frigate

It had been what two three days? Levesque thought to herself as she pushed up off the deck of her cell. This normally simple motion was becoming more difficult every time her captors unceremoniously dumped her back in the cell after each rather long and most often painful interrogation session. She no longer had any doubt that the Orions were up to something much more than a simple slave raid. Between the bouts of humiliation, abuse and torture inflicted on their captives, the Orions’ line of questioning had been far too focused. Questions of fleet deployments, weapons and shield technology were expected since they would have a direct impact on most of their black-market operations. Instead they had focused their questioning on interspecies deployments, officer exchange programs, and fleet deployments in sectors far from the Orion powerbase. 

Needing something to keep her people focused on something other than the actions of their Orion captors. Levesque had decided that their top priority (other than escape) was to figure out what the Orions were up to and stop them if possible. This of course was easier said than done as the only time anyone was able to get information was when they were taken. She had been worried at first, because Starfleet didn’t have an extensive interrogation resistance program, but it seemed that for the most part her worries were unfounded. Not only was she holding up better than she expected but so were most of her people. Despite everything, each time they were taken they would return with more useful information. Right now, the most useful piece of information they had collected was a fairly accurate count of who from the convoy had been taken. Between what appeared to be five cell blocks the Orions had managed to take almost thirty crewmembers from the various coalition vessels. Not exactly a large group compared to the standard crew complement of an Orion raider; but it might be enough to take the ship if they were lucky and if they could get out of their cells and coordinate with the others to take critical areas at the same time. It was a tall order, but Nicolette was determined to try if they had a chance. 

“If,” however, was the operative term…escaping their cells would be hard enough, but the longer it took to make the attempt the harder it would be. It didn’t matter how well she or the others were holding up for now, eventually they would start breaking down mentally and physically. While she couldn’t evaluate the state of the captives in the other cell blocks, in hers she had two worries at the moment. Ezra Alcott the ship’s helmsman was young and confident but very, very green. And with each passing “day” she was more concerned with his mental state. Her other worry was for the ship’s MACO commander Viktoria Yu. After being taken for what she could only assume was another interrogation the Canadian Major had yet to be returned. While professional to a T, Yu was also a fighter; Levesque was worried that if she resisted too much then it could land her deep in it.

It seemed however that for the first time in days her luck had turned. While discussing their current situation they were suddenly interrupted by the ship violently lurching to one side, which a moment later slammed Levesque against one of the cell walls. The rather repetitive task of pushing herself off the deck was now complicated by the constant rocking of the deck, her slightly blurred vision and the throbbing of what she hoped was only going to be a sizable welt on her forehead. Clutching at the bulkhead she had just found her footing when she nearly toppled over again as a transporter beam yanked her from the Orion ship to the transporter pad aboard Challenger. Looking around the corridor Levesque breathed a sigh of relief as she counted each of Challenger’s missing officers scattered among various Andorians, Vulcans and Tellarites. 

I could go for a pint of Andorian ale right about now. Levesque thought to herself as she slumped down next to Major Yu who looked a bit worse for wear.

TWELVE

Challenger NX-03, en-route to Denobula
Monday February 10th, 2155

Entering sickbay with a sense of pride pinned across his face, Captain Burton made his way over to where those from his crew who had been kidnapped rested. Sickbay in the past few days had been filled with injured crewmembers and as such folded out beds had complimented the normal three beds. Most of these were now empty and just had the standard Starfleet sheets draped over them. Moving past some of them he made his way over to where Commander Levesque was sat up with a data tablet in her hands. Levesque was wearing surgical scrubs and had a blanket covering her. She instantly noticed Burton’s presence and switched the tablet off by pressing the button along the top edge and laid it down on her lap. 

“Captain.” She greeted him with a warm smile but in a hushed tone.

“Commander,” He said, returning the greeting. “How are you feeling?”

She nodded with confidence. “Well thank you. Doctor Ben-Ami said I’ll be able to return to my quarters this evening and be back on duty by tomorrow morning.”

“I’m pleased.” Burton replied as he pulled up one of the stalls that were near to sit on. “By the way don’t refer to Ben-Ami as Doctor, she prefers the title Ro-fa.”

“Oh yes, I’ve already been told off for that.” Levesque replied with a slight chuckle. “How are you though sir?”

Burton smirked at that question. “All things considering, I’m okay – I think.” He said honestly. He looked over to where Commander Stanton, Ensign Alcott and Major Yu laid, all sleeping. “For a first mission we certainly were fed to the vultures.” He looked back at Levesque and the proud expression he had worn on his way into sickbay returned. “Even though we lost one and you all went through hell I’m still proud of what we’ve achieved in a matter of days.”

Levesque smiled and nodded in agreement. “We’ve certainly had quite the christening sir.”

“And I don’t want you or any of the others,” Burton said motioning to them with his right hand. “To think that I’m not aware of what you had to endure over on the Orion ship.”

“Thank you, sir.” Levesque said as she winced slightly as she moved and hit a bruise on her back against the bed. She looked over at Alcott. “Ezrah may require a bit more time off to come to terms with what he had to deal with. The Orions took a liking to him.”

Burton nodded, understanding what she was saying as he had read her preliminary report about their capture and what the Orions had done to them. Out of them all it had seemed that Alcott had been the only one sexually abused. Ben-Ami had confirmed this after she had examined him. “Kefira said she will put some time aside for him to talk to her about it.” He had been looking at their young helmsman while he spoke and then looked back at her. “What about you Nicole, are you sure you want to return to duty?”

“I’ll be fine sir. The good Ro-fa has booked me in for some time to talk with her tomorrow evening to talk about it all. I’ll bounce back.” She assured him with. “Do we have any more information as to why the Orions attacked us and abducted us?”

Burton sat up straight as he answered her. “No. Admiral Gardner said that they have yet to turn up any answers and the Vulcans, Andorians and Tellarites are saying the same. Captain Archer believes the Orion Syndicate were just trying to stall or at least stop the formalisation of the Coalition Compact. But once again we proved to the galaxy that working together has its benefits.”

“Truer words were never spoken, captain.” She returned and grabbed his hand as a sign of assurance and support of what he said. 

Burton returned the gesture by squeezing her hand gently. “I’ll let you rest Nicole.”

At that point Ro-fa Ben-Ami walked over and quietly spoke up to the two most senior officers on Challenger. “Visiting hours are now over, captain.”

Burton stood and nodded to the doctor’s words. “I was just leaving.” He said before giving an assuring smile and wink towards his First Officer as he left the confines of sickbay. He was definitely proud to be leading this crew and ship.


Ensign Niall Stewart moved away from the mess hall counter with his tray and made his way over to a secluded area in the not so busy lounge area. It was late in the evening and the gamma watch would be coming on to duty any minute now. He was lucky he would be able to return to his quarters after being on for two duty shifts. As Challenger’s senior nurse and field medic, Stewart was used to ungodly hours during massive traumas, but since the ship was launched, he could not remember when he had taken a break and rested (except for sleeping in between shifts). Sitting down he looked at the slice of chocolate gateaux, covered with chocolate sauce. He licked his lips, looking forward to the sweet dessert when he was rudely interrupted. 

“Mind if I sit here?” A quiet feminine voice spoke.

He looked up and saw the fatigued figure belonging to Lieutenant Masuko, the ship’s Second Engineer. “Please lieutenant.” He said with his own tired warm smile.

“Thanks.” She replied and made herself comfortable in the chair opposite to him after putting her tray down. She leaned over to him with her hand. “I’m Lieutenant Sakura Masuko, Second Engineer.”

He reached over and shook her hand once. “Nice to meet you Lieutenant, I’m Ensign Niall Stewart, Senior Nursing Officer and Field Medic.”

 “Ah I’m pleased to meet someone else besides an engineer who has had an exhausting day like me.” She returned with a smile. “How are things in sickbay?” She asked as she began to tuck in to a bowl of tomato soup.

Finishing his first bite from the cold dessert and wiping his mouth, the ensign replied. “Starting to slow back down again thanks. Engineering?”

“Most of the battle damage is repaired, but I’ll be glad to have Commander Stanton back. How is he?” She inquired before blowing on a spoonful of soup in hopes of cooling it down.

“Well. He’ll be back on his feet in no time.” Stewart answered. “Most of the kidnapped crew should all be discharged by tomorrow.”

“That’s great news.” She said, “I’m sure the captain will be happier to have everyone back on duty.”

Nodding in agreement. “I’m sure he will. In fact, he visited Commander Levesque and the others earlier. He seems to be quite the considerate captain, like his sister.”

Curious by what he meant, Masuko looked a bit perplexed by Stewart’s remark. “His sister? What do you mean?”

“I served under Captain Madison Burton on Voyager.” He said in between bites. “She’s a keen scientist and a great captain. He is quite like her. How about you?”

“Sorry?” She asked, confused to what he meant. 

“Where were you before Challenger?” He questioned.

“Oh, I served on the Lexington.” Masuko stated. “So, you’re probably one of the few, possibly the only one who knows a bit more about the captain then the rest of us?”

Stewart laughed nervously at that comment. “Well if he’s anything like his sister then we’re lucky. Plus, I heard he had served with Major Yu previously.” Pausing for a second to get another bite, he continued. “Anyway, what I want to know is there somewhere else on this marvellous ship we can watch films on except the small monitors in our quarters?”

For a moment Sakura thought about it. “I don’t think there is…there is the MACO training room or the command centre.”

Stewart sighed. “We need to do something about it. Do you like movies Sakura?” He paused, realising he had just called her by her first name and she did outrank him. “I mean Lieutenant, that’s if you-”

Masuko held a hand up to stop him from blabbering any more. “Sakura is fine and I’m not a huge movie buff, but I don’t mind some of the films from the early twenty-first century.”

“Then you’re in luck, I’ve got a great selection of films from that era as well as before and after! We just need to find somewhere to recreate the cinema experience!” Stewart stated as he pondered the matter further.

“Well I heard that on Enterprise and Columbia they have a weekly movie night. Why don’t we suggest it?” She offered.

He grinned at the idea. “Sounds perfect. Fancy helping me draft out a proposal to Commander Levesque?”

“If it means it gets me to stop thinking about plasma injectors for an hour or so I’m all yours Niall!” Mausko said, glad she had made a friend on her new ship.


Sunday, February 16th, 2155

Challenger NX-03

Reaching forward to grab the pot of coffee that sat close to her, Madilyn Campbell found herself longing for its contents. Pouring herself a mug she was content to listen to the current discussion happening between her peers around the table. Challenger and the task force were only moments from entering the Denobulan Triaxa system and currently she sat discussing with her counterparts from the other ships about their gameplay with Premier Norlox and his government. As lead-envoy it was her duty to chair any meetings they had. Right now, she was wondering if they would actually convince the Denobulan government to re-join the talks, especially as there was a lot of disagreement in the current room.

“I will state my case again, the most logical course of action here is for us to engage in one-to-one talks with those members of Nerlox’s party that need the most convincing.” Soron stated coolly from his seat next to Campbell’s left. 

Campbell found herself trying not to roll her eyes at the Vulcan’s repeated suggestion. Thankfully she was not the only one thinking the same. “Proposing the same flawed strategy over and over again will not make it more effective, Mister Ambassador.”  Ambassador Magerit countered back. “What we need is to show a united front here, so the Denobulan government sees we mean business and that we can work together in all areas.”

A snort came from Ambassador Gouth. “For the first time I agree with my Andorian colleague, but,” Gouth took in a breath before speaking, “we can’t all go to each one though, the process will take too long.”

After taking a sip of her coffee Campbell quickly interjected. “Then don’t.”

“I beg your pardon?” Gouth asked, surprised at the remark.

“Everyone is saying all the right things, what we need to do now is do what we diplomats and politicians do the best at: compromise.” Campbell explained. “We split our team in half, that way we show the Denobulans a united front as well as getting through those on Nerlox’s government who need to have their arms bent.”

Magerit chuckled at this. Gouth scratched her chin. Soron raised an eyebrow. 

“Do we actually need to inflict physical harm to the Denobulans?” Soron asked curiously.

“Even I knew that was a human metaphorical phrase for persuading them to agree.” Magerit responded towards Soran before looking at Campbell. “I think it’s a good plan, Madam Secretary.”

“Agreed.” Gouth said reluctantly. 

“Indeed.” Soron added.

At that point, in the corner of her eye, Campbell noticed the ship dropping out of warp. “Excellent and that’s good timing.” She remarked gesturing with her head about their arrival. “As Ambassador Soron and I have already made good relations with many in the Denobulan government I recommend that Ambassador Gouth join Ambassador Soron and Ambassador Magerit partners up with me?” 

All three diplomats once again agreed to the suggestion, then Campbell rose from her chair. “I suggest we all return to our own respective quarters on our own ships to prepare for our meeting with Premier Norlox within the hour.”

With the conclusion of their meeting her three colleagues all departed the small meeting room that had been assigned to them. Campbell watched them all leave before turning around to look at the man who had stood in the distance during the meeting at the back of the room. “Have you quite finished lurking Captain Burton?”

Captain Burton stepped forward with his arms crossed against his chest. “Sorry Madam Secretary, I didn’t mean to be ‘lurking’.” He answered. “I was curious to learn from what you discussed and to see how you planned to engage with the Denobulans.”

Campbell gave the Starfleet captain a smile. “I’m kiddin’ Captain, actually having your presence in the room was helpful.”

“Oh?” Burton said, surprised.

Nodding, Campbell explained her thoughts. “The others still see Earth as a small player and so do many races, the Denobulans included. We need to show them that we mean business and I plan to do that.”

“Is that why you picked Ambassador Margerit as your partner?” Burton inquired.

“Partly, but Margerit is running for the Andorian Chancellorship and if she is to win it, which from recent polls suggest she will with great ease, then I want her to know that us pink-skins are good partners to have, even if our ships are inferior to their own!” Campbell said. “Plus, it’s always good to have first-hand experience of what the next leader of the Andorian Empire is like!”

“As long as she wins the election!” Burton remarked with a playful smile. “Do you see dealing with Premier Norlox and his government difficult?”

Campbell considered the question for a second. “Norlox isn’t that hard to deal with, it’s those in his cabinet and his party that will be tricky, however I want to involve the entire Denobulan Congress from both sides of the political spectrum. We need to show the entire Denobulan population we are serious about involving their entire race in the Coalition as much as we are with the other members.”

“Sounds like you’re going to have your work cut out for you then ma’am.” Burton said before motioning towards the door for them to exit.

“Oh, it’s going to be a fun few days I can promise you that Captain!” Campbell replied as she walked alongside him out of the room and out into the corridor.


The gentle hum of the Challenger’s power system vibrated throughout the section, giving a sense of security to Alcott as he remained seated perfectly still, staring at the bulkhead before him. His mind was almost empty but every time he closed his eyes, he saw flashbacks of the cruelty he endured while on the Orion ship. He had spent the last few days meeting with Ro-fa Ben-Ami in therapy sessions, discussing the ordeal but he wasn’t finding any sense to any of it. 

“There you are.” A calm voice said above him. He looked up to see the perfect assuring smile coming from Commander Michael Stanton. Normally he would have blushed at the presence of Professor McSteamy except now he felt nothing towards Challenger’s Second Officer and Chief Engineer. “Ezrah you do know you’re upside down?”

He nodded in reply. “Aye sir. It’s the sweet spot sir.”

“The what spot?” The engineer asked, confused at the designation he had given.

“It’s what Boomers call the part of the ship which is usually about halfway between the bow plate and the gravity-generator. I was told about it by a classmate of mine.” Alcott stated solemnly. “It’s meant to be one of the most peaceful places on a ship.”

Stanton looked around to find something to use to push himself off from.  As he did, he found himself flying through zero-g before catching the side and dropping down beside Alcott. “Cool place. I never knew about this before.” He said looking around before placing his eyes on the pilot. Immediately he found his heart sank in sympathy for the young man.  He had a glum expression slapped across his face. “How long have you been here?” He asked next, finding it awkward on how to engage him in discussion.

Alcott shrugged his shoulders. “A couple of hours, I think.”

Stanton just nodded. Out of those who had been kidnapped Alcott was the one they were most concerned with due to the type of torture he had experienced. Everyone had noticed that he had lost his youthful eagerness he had shown when they had launched. Captain Burton had met with Commanders Levesque and Stanton with Ben-Ami to discuss how they could help him. If they had been on Earth he would have been relieved of duty for compassionate leave, but as they were now several weeks from there, they needed to do something now to help him. Alcott had insisted he remained on active duty just like the others who had been kidnapped. He had attended all of his therapy sessions, but he still wasn’t appearing to be making progress in coming to terms with the trauma that inflicted him. Stanton had volunteered to talk to him, or to at least give him a shoulder to cry on. Alcott being a former pupil of his, Stanton felt responsible that he had to do something to help. Burton had thanked him and said if he needed support to let him know he would help as well but he didn’t want to overwhelm the ensign.

“Is it helping?” Stanton asked. “Being here.” He said, clarifying his point.

The pilot nodded sombrely. “Did Ro-fa Ben-Ami send you?” He asked after a minute of silence between them.

“No.” Stanton answered honestly as he brought his knees up to his chin and crossed his arms around his legs. That might not have been entirely true, the good doctor did recommend someone else talking with him, but it had been the captain that had wanted it to actually happen. “I just thought you could do with a friend right about now. I know Ensign Hathaway was looking for you in the mess hall earlier.” 

Alcott rubbed his face with both hands and then pushed his right hand through his flat hair. He appeared that the realisation he had been missing in engaging with his colleagues dawned on him.  “Was she annoyed with me?”

“No.” Stanton answered with a shack of his head. “More concerned about you.”

“Oh okay.” He replied quietly with a single nod of acceptance.

It was at that point that Stanton extended his left arm out and pulled Alcott in to him, something just clicked in his mind that he needed to make the gesture and it was all in good timing at that point Alcott broke down in to tears and accepted the embrace from his superior officer as he cried on his shoulder. “Just let it out Ezrah, tell me everything that’s on your mind and I promise it will stay between us.”


The door chime buzzed like a loud rude siren. It startled Hennessey from what he was studying from the comfort confines of his chair behind his desk. He got up and made his way over to the door and tapped the button on the side to unlock it and to see who it was.

“Jane.” He said, surprised to see her at his door.

“Ned.” She greeted him with a slight smile. “May I come in?”

He stood to the side to let her in. She stepped through the threshold and the door closed behind her. Hennessey remained where he was as she looked around his small living space. 

“It’s lovely, slightly smaller than the guest quarters mind you.” She stated.

“Thanks?” Hennessey replied, still unsure of what she was doing here. As such he took his glasses off and placed them in between his hands. “How can I help you?”

She seemed to be still focussed on the room and didn’t instantly reply to him but when she realised he had spoken she explained her visit. “I noticed that Captain Burton has assigned you to his landing party to join him and Secretary Campbell on Denobula.”

Ned nodded and took one step forward towards her. “That’s right, it’s standard procedure for the chief communication officer to join the captain for any diplomatic mission, in particular to ensure there is a backup in case the universal translators fail.”

“Let’s hope they don’t as that’ll cause a lot of issues in the first round of talks.” She remarked.

Tired of her beating around the bush, he got straight to the point. “Jane, what is this about?”

She took in a breath. “I just want to say, that is I wanted to see if,” She stumbled her words out. “It’s just I heard what happened to those on your crew who were kidnapped, and I just thought that…” She stopped as she struggled to find the words she wished to express.

“You thought what?” He asked, wanting to know where she was going with this line of enquiry. Was she going to ask how those affected were recovering? Which reminded him he must see Ensign Alcott; the young pilot had been one of those kidnapped and rumours had gone around the ship that he had suffered the most traumatic experience then the rest. In fact, Commander Stanton had asked him earlier if he had seen him when Hennessey was sharing a break with Ensign Hathaway. The Second Helmsman had expressed her concern at Alcott’s behaviour since his return and had told the Chief Engineer she was desperate to see him to see if he was okay. 

“I just…just…never mind.” Jane said, suspending his thoughts about Alcott, and in a flap, she began to walk towards the door. “I’m sorry for wasting your time, Ned.”

Just before she reached the door, he grabbed her gently by the arm. “Jane, what was this about?”

“It’s nothing. I just wanted to make sure you were okay and to say I hope we can work amicably for the sake of this mission.” She came back with.

He nodded and released his grip on her. “Okay.” He said and watched as she left his company. Bizarre he thought as he made his way back to his chair.  


Lieutenant Commander John Callahan had expected to see the usual armoury crewmembers on duty when he entered the Main Armoury, except they weren’t the only ones on duty. In the corner of the room sat Major Yu on a stall tinkering what looked like a MACO phase rifle. Callahan walked over to the weapon’s locker, keeping his gaze on the MACO as he picked up a phase pistol in its cover case and attached it to the side of his uniform. He locked the cabinet before making his way over to Yu.

“Problems?” He asked, disturbing her work.

Yu stopped and looked up at Callahan. She placed the tool she had been using down, sat up straight and rubbed the back of her neck with both her hands. “Problem.” She corrected him as she leant back down to look at the phase rifle she had taken apart. Currently its hard-shell covering was off, and its inside was fully exposed.

“Care to share?” He offered.

“On the Orion ship our weapons were instantly disabled by some sort of dampening field. I want to see if there’s a way of getting around that.” She shared. She looked back at the American officer. “But I’m not getting anywhere fast.” Yu looked over at Callahan’s appearance and realised he was wearing a field jacket over his standard Starfleet jumpsuit uniform. “Landing party duty?” She enquired as she reached for the cold mug of coffee that sat next to the rifle.

“Yeah, the Capt’n wants me to join him and the Secretary for the first meeting with Premier Norlox.” He replied. “I did suggest we bring a few MACOs, but the Secretary doesn’t want our presence to be too militarised.”

“Understandable.” Yu said in agreement. “Quite logical in fact, the Denobulans could take the presence of several well-armed and outfitted MACOs as a sign that we don’t trust them fully with our security.”

“Yeah, the Capt’n said the same thing. Somethin’ about us needin’ to show them we can work together around national security.” Callahan explained with a sense of not being completely on board with the idea. “How ya doin’ anyway Major?”

“I’m fine.” Viktoria said after giving out a huffing noise. “If I have to share my feelings with one more person about the whole Orion ordeal, I promise you sir I will punch someone in the noise.”

Callahan chuckled slightly at the Major’s response. “Fair enough, I was going to see if you were free later for a workout?”

Yu looked up at the man and nodded with a smile. “That sounds like a great plan, thank you Commander.”

“Eighteen hundred hours sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Great, see you then.” Callahan said before waving her off as he left the armoury.

Yu returned to her project, determined to be able to use her weapon next time she engaged the Orions.


Captain Burton stepped off the lift onto Challenger’s bridge with Secretary Campbell in tow and automatically saw the image of Denobula on the main screen. A sick feeling rose through his stomach, the memories of being here last began to surface in his thoughts. 

Ros.

“We’re slowly approaching Denobula captain and have already received authorisation to enter orbit.” Commander Levesque spoke as she stood from his chair in the middle of the bridge, interrupting his train of thought. “Shuttlepod One is prepped and ready to take you all down there.”

“Thank you, Nicole.” Burton responded and walked forward to stand behind Ensign Hathaway at the helm, still staring at the image. “Take us into orbit Ensign, let’s make a good first impression to our friends down there.” He said with a smile and a strong conviction that this time when he left Denobula he wouldn’t be leaving any bad ghosts behind him.

EPILOGUE

The Hall of State, Dartha, Romulus
Day Fifteen, Month of K’r’lior / Sunday, February 16th, 2155

Admiral Valdore watched in silence as Praetor D’deridex discussed with the rest of the Senate the current situation. The aging Romulan leader now rose slowly from the opulent chair at the head of the Hall of State’s audience chamber. “Once again our plans have failed to live up to their outcomes. Admiral, what do you have to say on behalf of the military?”

Valdore cleared his throat. “Praetor as you know these plans were rushed into action, and we may not have been able to destroy the combined task forces but we have achieved one objective we did not originally intend to happen.”

D’deridex looked down at Valdore who stood at the bottom of the steps that led up to where he currently stood. “And what is that?” He replied with surprising volume and vehemence for a man of his age. “Because from where I stand I see enemies on our doorsteps close to finalising an alliance and bringing more nations into it.” 

“The Hevams, Thaessu, Andorsu and Tellarsu have now moved their attention to consider the Orion Syndicate and Nausicaan mercenaries more of a threat thus giving us a tactical advantage, so when we attack, they would not be expecting it Praetor. The others will not join them if they wish to avoid becoming targets themselves too.” Valdore replied with confidence.

“See to it Admiral.” The Praetor hissed.

Bowing his head in respect, Valdore spoke. “I shall return to finalising our battle plans at once, Praetor.”

D’derdex returned to his seat and gestured to Valdore to leave the chamber at once with a swift backhand motion. “Good, off you go then!” He added.

In his mouth the bitter taste of defeat was replaced with one of eagerness to see their plans come to be: the invasion and destruction of the home-worlds of the Andorians, Tellarites, Humans and most importantly their distant Vulcan cousins.