Like a galleon ship crossing the vast oceans of Earth from centuries before, the Endeavour NX-06 made its way at a comfortable speed of warp four heading to Starbase One. After two months of completing various convoy duties and responding to the odd distress call here and there, the ship had completed a majority of its shakedown cruise. Now the ship was making its way to join elements of the fleet that were patrolling the disputed space between Earth and its adversary: the Romulan Star Empire.

For the last two months, the Romulans had been giving Earth forces a wide berth in avoiding any huge clashes between ships. The odd engagement here and there, but on the whole both sides had seemed to maintain the status quo while repairing and rebuilding their forces. Earth engineers had been pushed to the limit in getting more ships completed, launched and crew while maintaining what was left of the original fleet. The war was almost entering a sort of stalemate period, which meant that something was coming on the horizon.

Celebrating their six month anniversary on the eve of First Contact Day, Campbell and Trommler were enjoying a peaceful ‘date night’ in the captain’s private dining room. A candlelit dinner for two, as prepared by the chef and a few others. Calm piano melodies were playing in the background as they enjoyed their main course.

Looking up from his meal, Campbell smirked at his husband who had caught him yet staring at him. Trommler then looked up and caught the glimpse and smiled at him. “What is it?” He asked.

Not wearing their uniform, instead both men had dressed up for the evening in smart casual civilian attire. Campbell wore a black and white patterned top with grey trousers while Trommler had opted for a short-sleeved navy blue shirt and black jeans. No longer were they just captain and MACO deputy leader, but just Oliver and Fynn.

Picking up his glass of beer, Campbell’s smirk grew wider as he took a sip. He then answered his husband. “Just realising how lucky I am.”

“You get no argument from over here.” Trommler quipped back with his boyish grin, complimented by his dimples.

Chuckling slightly, Campbell shook his head at the lack of humility in his husband’s response which was mixed in with his silly humour. He loved every part of him for that.

Then the deck plating shook under them. Expression of concerns swept over their faces and both men rose from their chairs. Not needing to ask the bridge what was happening, Campbell soon saw the wing of green ships firing against his ship from the window.

However they weren’t Romulan ships…they were Orions.

Tuesday 5th April 2157

Celebrating First Contact Day seemed a sort of mute-point for the crew. The evening before the ship had been attacked by three Orion vessels, thankfully quick thinking and the use of the ship’s new systems meant they were able to disable their attackers and escape without any loss of life, just some damage to the hull.

The crew had worked throughout the rest of the evening, into the night and the early hours of the morning to complete repairs. Now their journey to Starbase One had turned into a rush job. Unable to determine why the Orion ships had attacked, beside the assumption they were after some slaves for their markets (which they were not able to get their hands on), Captain Campbell had ordered the ship to increase speed. His hope had been that getting to safe harbours would avoid any more run-ins.

He was so wrong.

While speaking with Commodore Paulsen via subspace the Orions had returned, this time with their big brothers. Ten ships in total came bearing down on the one ship. Their heavy approach resulted in the ship being forced out of warp, after trying to outrun them at its top speeds beyond warp five.

The first few attacks had knocked out the ship’s port nacelle, forcing plasma to be vented as the ship tried to evade the Orions while at impulse speeds. Being able to destroy two of the Orion ships and disable another one, Endeavour was just no match for the rest.

System after system failed and the impressive jewel of the Earth fleet soon became a drifting hulk of space debris as the Orions ripped into them.

But their endgame was not to destroy the ship, just disable it.

Once they had completed this task, they took the ship into tow with their own version of grapplers and then boarded her.

The combined forces of the MACOs and armoury officers held a valiant fight in defending the ship from its invaders but were soon overrun.

Campbell had attempted to initiate the ship’s new auto-destruct system but it would appear the attack from the day before had been deadly enough to damage the ship’s secondary command processors, resulting in the self-destruct system being disabled from being deactivated. Without being able to safely get down to engineering or the armoury to denote either the warp core or the last remaining torpedoes, Campbell was unable to stop the Endeavour from falling into the hands of the Orions. The only one thing he was able to do was lock out the main computer and deactivate all of the ship’s primary command systems.

Countless large, muscular green humanoids soon entered the bridge and took the captain as their prisoner. Several of the bridge crew were shot down in their places, all of them stunned. Helded tightly by one particular tall Orion man, Campbell was forced to watch as the rest of his crew were taken away by the Orion soldiers.

It didn’t take long until Campbell was handcuffed by the individual who had the tightest hold on him and then pushed into the situation room where his cuffs were chained up to a nearby handrail. One that he couldn’t get himself out of.

The Orion leader in question identified himself as Jerran-Lar. He had the widest shoulders that Campbell had ever seen, which wasn’t hard as he was topless. His abs looked as if they had been sculptured, appearing almost like a statue of Hercules from Ancient Greek mythology. However this man was no champion of the people or the gods. Far from it.

The tall, muscular individual’s emerald skin almost glistened against the bridge lighting as he began to gloat at his victory and that whatever he set to gain from this attack would ensure he would be rewarded handsomely. His thick black hair was cut short, but the strong black lines drawn under his eyes made him look fierce, intimidating. Almost like a pirate that Campbell had read about as a child, and not the friendly type. He meant business and appeared to enjoy that his work made others suffer.

And his hands were pleased to assist with the suffering. Straight away, Jerran-Lar took his energy out against the captain’s body. Punching him in his gut and face, the pain was intense and overwhelming for him. He could feel the cut above his right eye, the dripping of blood coming down the side of his face, along with the bruising around his right eye and across the rest of his body. Falling to the ground during another session of his beatings, Jerran-Lar kicked him in his side and stamped on his leg. He was in complete agony, but Campbell still had no idea why the Orions had attacked.

Grabbing him by the hair, Jerran-Lar pulled Campbell up close to him. He whispered into his ears, his strong breath pushing against the captain’s skin. “You and I are going to become well acquainted in the coming days captain. I promise you that.” He then gave out quite the sadistic laugh. He then wiped his sweaty palms across Campbell’s face, smearing the blood, sweat and tears. Quickly grabbing him by the neck next, Jerran-Lar pulled Campbell closer to him. “I don’t want you to tell me any state secrets or any stupid battleplans in this pathetic war you have against the Romulans. I just want you to understand that I beat you and that you’re mine now.”
With all of his strength, the Orion pushed Campbell down onto the deck plating causing more injury to Campbell as he landed. Hitting his head against the carpeted floor, Campbell took one more glance at the man that stood over the top of him and heard him mutter something about his crew being held up in the various cargo bays or in the brig itself.

Then Campbell’s world collapsed around him as he started to fall into a state of unconsciousness and at that point he felt Jerran-Lar’s hands around his body, clawing away at his jumpsuit as he ripped off pieces. His enjoyment in his work came through chuckles as he did so. Campbell without any more energy fell into darkness as he lost all ability to remain awake and aware of his surroundings.

His body had given up.

Slowly and seductively, Tifenah entered the bridge of the Endeavour via the turbolift and looked around at the mess caused by her soldiers and gave out a sigh. An expression of disgust lingered across her face before she soon found Jerran-Lar playing with an individual from the crew and causing harm to the prisoner.

“Jerran, why is it whenever we do a mission like this you never complete your tasks before playing with your new toys?” She questioned as he stopped his man-handling of the prisoner.

Looking at her, he stepped forward. “Sorry mistress.” He answered back, almost sounding like an innocent boy who had just been caught being naughty. “Our attack was a success and I was enjoying the…bounty.”

“Indeed,” She said, looking down at the man that her minion was dealing with. “Who is he?”

“Captain Campbell, in the flesh.” He answered.

Walking over to look at the almost dead body before her, she shook her head. “Our clients won’t be happy if he is dead before we hand him over.”

“Do not worry, I plan to have my fun with him first and ensure he is fit before we hand him and his ship over.” Jerran-Lar answered, looking back down at Campbell with a wicked expression. “No-one told me that humans were quite…appealing to play with.”

Rolling her eyes at his remarks, Tifenah walked away. “We need to repair this ship as well. Again the client specifically said they wanted it handed over with no damage.”

“We may have been a bit too generous in our assault, the damage is quite extensive.” Jerran-Lar reported.

“So what do you plan to do about it?” Tifenah said, annoyed to hear such matters.

“I will use the captain to get us the help we needed.” He then kneeled down, picked up Campbell’s body and chucked him over his shoulder. After taking the chain off that had held Campbell in his place, the tall somewhat handsome Orion aggressor took Campbell off the bridge and towards the cargo bay.

Several minutes later he entered into the large storage area where the bridge crew and senior staff were being held along with several others. Lar dropped Campbell’s body at his feet, called out to the one he knew was the ship’s surgeon and tossed him a medical kit.

“You have one hour to treat your captain. If you don’t patch him up in time…” He paused and looked around the room, pointed at the captain’s yeoman, “I’ll kill him as well as your captain.”

Jerran-Lar then turned around and left Campbell laying on the floor before his crew to see his broken, damaged self.

“Captain’s star log, March twenty-first, twenty-one-fifty-seven. It’s been over a month and a half since our successful mission in removing the Romulan presence on Akaali. Since then the crew have continued to get used to the refit and our convoy duty has gone without a hitch, until two days ago. A communication from Starfleet has caused some upset among the senior staff. Commodore Paulsen has now arrived on the Poseidon to shed further light and I am hoping to persuade her to aid me in convincing Starfleet to change their minds.”

Endeavour had welcomed the arrival of the Poseidon and the two ships had docked side by side while continuing to move across the void of space, leading the convoy back to the core territory of the Commonwealth. 

As Commodore Paulsen was his former captain and her ship his last assignment, Campbell had felt it would be bad form if he didn’t meet his superior at the airlock and escorted her through the ship to somewhere private.

Paulsen, as ever, did not lose her commanding and strong presence. Even with a war on, her excellent balanced leadership skills, which sat between encouragement and firmness, made her someone that was popular among her crew and those she worked with. Her witty charm complimented her intelligence, so she was without a doubt one of the few “all-rounders” that kept an optimistic approach when on and off duty. This aurora that she had made her one of the best role models to so many in the fleet. It wasn’t surprising when Starfleet made her a commodore that would be active in the field that none of her fellow captains had an issue in following her orders. To Campbell it felt like old times and that brought a sense of comfort in what he was doing, knowing she wasn’t far away and she would be someone who would either listen with care to his problem or give him some tough love to get on with his job. 

Campbell had emulated a lot of her gestures, sayings and her approach during his first six months of being Endeavour’s captain. Since his return and the ship’s relaunch/refit, he was finding himself assimilating these traits borrowed from his mentor and now exhibiting more of his own approaches to what came his way as a commanding officer. Nevertheless he was pleased to see his former mentor and good friend. 

Stepping through the airlock with a very warm friendly smile, the commodore broke protocol and gave Campbell a hug and a friendly welcome kiss on the cheek. “It’s good to see you Ollie.” She said after their embrace. Linking her arm into his, their familiarity with one another was no surprise to anyone on the crew that knew of their past. The commodore kept on smiling as they started to walk along the corridor. “Let’s go find somewhere to chat quietly.” She suggested.

Agreeing with her idea, Campbell said he knew the perfect place and led her towards the conference room on the other side of the deck. He had already had his yeoman setup the room just for the two of them. The trip from the docking port to the conference room wasn’t long so they soon arrived and when they entered Paulsen immediately smiled at the effort that Campbell had gone in preparing a steamy pot of black coffee for her, a teapot for him and a tray of her favourite pastries: cinnamon swirls with extra icing. 

“Are you trying to bribe me Ollie?” She asked as she took a seat at the head of the large rectangular curved edge table.

“Sweetening you up is more like it.” Campbell answered as he began pouring her a mug of coffee. “And it’s not resequenced coffee either. My chef had several crates of coffee put into storage and set aside for when we had VIPs.”

“You certainly are trying to bribe me.” Paulsen said as she picked up the sweet pastry and placed it on a napkin. “So, let’s talk.”

“Yes, lets.” Campbell said as he passed her the mug and started to make his own mug of tea. “Where shall we start?”

With a slight mouthful of pastry, Paulsen picked up her mug and tried to finish what she was chewing before speaking up. “Come on Ollie, we’ve known each other long enough not to beat around the bush. You’re pissed at the transfer orders you’ve received.” Taking a swig of her coffee she looked at Campbell and could see from his reaction she was right.

Leaning back in his chair, after sitting down, Campbell picked up his tea. “Yeah, to put it so bluntly I am. This ship has gone through so many staff changes since I’ve taken command and I’m trying to break in a number of inexperienced enlisted crewmembers who have not served on a vessel while getting used to new systems.”

Pulling her pastry apart, Paulsen nodded to show she understood. “Yeah, I get it Ollie but I’m going to say five words to you that you will hear from every other bureaucrat back at Starfleet Command…”

“There’s a war going on.” Campbell said before sipping on his tea. He soon realised that Paulsen was going to give him some tough love today. “It’s just ridiculous Diane, surely there’s something you can do for me?”

“Like what?” Paulsen questioned him with her voice going up a notch or two. “I can’t stop the transfers from happening or slow them down.” She added.

“Diane, I’m losing my first officer and chief engineer along with my chief science officer, chief armoury officer and MACO commander. That also doesn’t count for several others who are leaving but I don’t appear to be getting any replacements for,  especially in the science department.” Campbell complained. “And to top it all off, those who are going to be replaced I don’t get a say in their successors at all. The admiralty have decided for me and it feels like my first day back in command when I had limited choices on who I could have.”

Smirking a bit, Paulsen finished another part of her pastry and shook her head to herself. 

“What?” Campbell questioned her on her gesture. 

Picking up her mug again, Paulsen placed it in her lap before answering. “I’m remembering a former first officer of mine that was plucked away from me within an instant over a year ago and I had no choice in his successor either. Again, I had to deal with losing him and several others all within a space of twenty-four hours.”

“That was different.” Campbell countered back quickly with a smirk in regards to the reference of him being pulled from the Poseidon after receiving a battlefield promotion to captain of Endeavour. “The Battle of Sol had taken its toll on the fleet, everyone had to step up and into new roles as per Fleet Admiral Hathaway’s orders.”

“And those orders have not changed or been rescinded in any way and the war rages on.” Paulsen said as she drank more of her coffee. “That really is superb coffee.” She remarked as she placed the mug down on the table. “Ollie, all of us are having to give up good people for the war effort. I’ve not only lost my finest first officer but in the past year and a half the Poseidon has had half of its senior staff transferred and promoted to other positions. While trying to lead one of the fronts, I’ve had to break in a new senior staff by myself. It’s not easy, especially when they’re not quite what you expect but people’s experiences are needed elsewhere.”

“It’s ridiculous.” He complained as he picked up his pastry. “How the hell are we meant to win this war if people’s orders keep on changing. We’re getting pulled here, there and everywhere.”

“I agree, it’s not helpful but it’s the only solution to ensure we win this war and avoid losing so many good and experienced souls. From what I know three of them are heading off to train others which is exactly what we need. Rohan, I hear, is heading to the Proxima Shipyards to oversee the construction of six ships, two of them are upgrades and refurbishments of other NX-class ships to Columbia-class. His experience in overseeing Endeavour’s upgrades will assist greatly with those projects and he can share his knowledge with the chief engineers on those ships.”

“Yeah but that’s experience I may need here.” Campbell said with a slight mouthful. 

Ignoring him, Paulsen carried on. “Wilcox is heading to Starfleet Training Command on Earth to teach those new eager officers we are putting through the advanced fast track courses. Her experience of being in space will make a difference with those who are going to follow in her footsteps by running other armoury departments.”

Campbell repeated almost the same argument. “Again, her experience is needed here for when we engage the enemy.” 

“You can’t blame Jaylan and Bruce for wanting to return home to their daughter either. I know it’s not great they’re leaving so early on, but would both you and Flynn leave a child behind while going to war with no guarantees you’ll both survive and return?” Paulsen questioned. “Again, both of them are qualified instructors for STC and are returning to their faculties to ensure those coming through the ranks remember that Starfleet isn’t a military organisation first, we’re here to explore and when this war is over that’s what we need to be doing.” 

“I just wished one of them could have stayed.” He remarked. “That’s saying a lot about them from me by the way, especially with Bruce.”

Rolling her eyes, as she knew of the history that Campbell had with both science officers, Paulsen moved on. “And finally Major al-Basir’s transfer is an urgent one. Surely even you can see that one.” Paulsen said with a serious tone as she took another sip of her coffee. “It’a decision that will make a big difference to the security arrangements the MACOs are trying to sort out. She’s taking on the responsibility of helping run an entire battalion of MACOs being assigned to the new Starfleet and MACO base on Vega. That’s over a thousand soldiers she will have the authority for while they create a state-of-the-art stronghold there.”

Every reason that Paulsen had listed didn’t make the idea of losing these fine officers any easier to digest. Campbell finished what he was eating and realised that his campaign of trying to keep them had come to an end. “Is there any good news you can share with me?”

“Well yes, actually.” Paulsen said. “One, at the moment I don’t think you’re getting a replacement for the major, so Flynn will need to fill in as acting detachment commander. But the other replacements are on the Poseidon now, ready to transfer over. And two, I’m here to relieve you of your convoy duty.” She pulled out a computer tablet from the small leather suitcase she had walked in with and passed it to Campbell. 

“What?” Campbell said as he looked at it. “How come? We were meant to be taking this convoy all the way back to Earth.”

“Poseidon needs an overhaul of her plasma injectors and Starbase One couldn’t help, so we’re heading to the Copernicus Shipyards for a quick layover, so it makes sense that we finish off this leg of your journey plus I’ve not seen my husband for several months. He owes me a wedding anniversary dinner. In the meantime, I want you to head to Starbase One and assist Captain O’Brien with further patrols near the Romulan border.” Paulsen explained.

Somewhat pleased that convoy duty was coming to an end and he could see his friend, the commander of Starbase One, but on the other hand he knew he had failed in trying to stop these transfers. “Understood.” He remarked almost glumly. “Anything I need to know about my new members?”

“You’re first officer appears to be highly experienced and will without a doubt cover up for your losses in the science department. The other two will be promoted to lieutenant commander on their appointment to Endeavour. I suggest you find a way to get them acclimated with the Endeavour. Those patrols are going to need Endeavour and its crew working as a well-oiled machine.”

“Understood. We’ll throw a welcome and promotion party.” Campbell said, still in an annoyed tone at what was happening. “Anything else I should know about our patrols or the area?”

“Except that the Romulans are still giving us plenty of breathing space since your little removal of them at Akaali, there’s nothing else to report.” Paulsen said before finishing her coffee. “I know there’s been some increase in sightings of Orion raiders near to the Kreetassan border but they appear to be giving us and any other coalition vessel a wide berth for now.”

“So it should be relatively quiet for a bit longer.” Campbell commented.

“Let’s hope so.” Paulsen said and she stood up. “Seriously, Ollie take it from me that you’re doing a great job here on Endeavour. You’ll be fine with these new additions.”

“Thanks Diane, I appreciate you listening to my moaning.” Ollie said as he too stood up, taking her cue the meeting was over. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Likewise.” She said as she leant in to give him another hug. “Give that husband of yours a hug from me.”

As they let go of their embrace, he returned the sentiment. “Likewise.”

“Don’t worry about walking me to the docking port, I can make my own way back. You’ve got new crewmembers to prepare for.” 

Appreciating her offer, Campbell said his goodbye to his friend and watched as she left the room. Turning to look out of the large oval-shaped windows, he could see the convoy of Earth cargo ships surrounding the Endeavour. He’d be glad to see the back of these. Sighing to himself, he then went over to the nearest intercom panel on the wall and called for Wishmore and Knight to join him in the conference room on the double. 

Xiang was sitting in her quarters relaxing after a long day, she thought about going over to Scott’s quarters to hang out as they did a lot. They had been good friends since they were cadets going through Starfleet Training Command together. She was about to get up when she received a message. “Wonder what that could be?” Xiang asked herself as she opened it and began to read it.

Raising an eyebrow as she read that she was going to be transferred to the Endeavour once the Poseidon caught up with the ship. Looking sad not knowing that Scott would receive the same transfer orders as well.

She definitely decided to go over to his quarters and share the news, she headed out of her quarters though she shared it with one other officer that worked the graveyard shift so she basically had the quarters to herself. Walking down the corridor, once she arrived she pressed the door chime and waited for a response.

In the midst of listening to some classical music, Scott had just finished reading the second chapter of his original leather-bound copy of Sun Tzu’s The Art of War when the chime rang. It was a gift from his grandfather. He’d not read it in some time, and it was a fantastic piece of literature. He bookmarked his place and set the book down on the shelf just inside his bunk space of his three-by-four and a half-meter shared cabin before standing up to answer the door. Since he was off duty and wasn’t expecting anyone, he had just been lounging around in his undergarments.

He reached for the panel nearest the door and pressed the door release button. He was pleasantly surprised to see that it was Xiang at the door and not the captain or the first officer conducting a surprise inspection. “Mei Mei! What are you doing here? I mean, it’s good to see you, but what brings you by?”

Walking in, she took a seat on his bed, “Sparky…” She began as she looked at him not caring if he was in his undergarments, that didn’t phase her at all. “Can we talk?” She asked, looking at him. She wasn’t sure how to take the news, whether to be happy as it would be an advancement in her career or be sad because she would be transferring to a different ship and not have her best friend with her anymore.

Scott had known Xiang long enough to know that the tone of her voice meant what she had to say wasn’t going to be good. He closed the door and took a half-cross-legged seat on the edge of the bed next to her and took her left hand in his before asking rhetorically, “How long have we known each other? You know you can talk to me about anything. What’s bugging you?”

“I know,” she replied, looking at him for a moment before speaking. “I just got orders that I am being transferred to the Endeavour as the ship’s new Chief Engineer,” she replied. “I know that is a good thing, but I am sad that we will be separated again,” Xiang replied with a sigh as she laid her head on his shoulder, to anyone new they would probably think they were a couple when in reality they were just really good friends that did everything together. This war was taking a toll on everyone and having her best friend by her side made things more bearable.

Scott’s heart sank. He felt like he had just got his friend back with his transfer to the Poseidon, and now she was about to leave him again. For a moment quicker than it took to jump to warp three, selfish thoughts of him worrying about how this news would affect him crossed his mind when he should have been focusing on her feelings. However, as quick as they were to enter his mind, they left and he snapped back to reality. He knew that this was a great step forward in her career and they would just have to cope with it as they had when they last got separated. “That’s great news Mei Mei! I’m sure they could use your talents over there. And hey…you know you can call me day or night. I’ll always be there for you.” he replied, wrapping his arm around her to comfort her.

She nodded, “I know. Just wish you were coming with me.” She replied with a sigh, a thought popped in her head “did you hear your computer beep by chance?” She asked though the likelihood of them both getting transfers to the same ship again was slim, though she only hoped that it would be her lucky day.

Did he receive any messages? He thought to himself. In all likelihood, if he had, he probably didn’t hear it over the music and deep concentration in his book earlier, and quite frankly with him being off duty any message could have waited or people could contact him directly if it was urgent. “I’ll be honest. I didn’t even notice, but if it’ll make you feel better I can take a look.”

Seeing the glimmer of hope in her eyes when he said that, he got up and went and checked the computer terminal on his desk. There were a few messages in his inbox; a couple of shift reports from subordinate officers, one from a former shipmate now stationed at Luna colony, and one marked urgent from Starfleet Command. He opened the last message and couldn’t believe his eyes. Xiang was going to feel like she had won a lottery when he told her. “You’re not going to believe this. They want me on the Endeavour too! Apparently, I’m to replace their former Chief Armoury Officer.”

She almost jumped off the bed in excitement, “Oh my god!” Xiang replied with excitement as she jumped in his arms for a hug, “According to the message the ship is rendezvousing with the Endeavour in about an hour or so.” She replied as they would both need to start packing, she had a million things run through her head as she thought of their new assignment.

“Well…I guess we’d better get packing,” he said, feeling better that his friend wasn’t sad any longer.

“Indeed,” she said with excitement as she hugged him again before almost bolting out of his quarters and headed back towards hers to pack. Other crew members wondered what the rush was for like there was some kind of emergency going on in engineering or something as they moved out of her way.

After she finished packing she looked around the room one more time to make sure she wasn’t forgetting anything, she then left a note for her roommate that she was being transferred and that she enjoyed getting to know her over the past year. Once satisfied that she didn’t leave anything behind she had sent all her things but one bag to the cargo transporter to have them sent to the Endeavour that the ship just docked with.

It took Scott nearly forty-five minutes to gather all of his belongings and make sure his room was in order before making his way to the docking port. He took one look at his storage container and suddenly realized he had more belongings than he last remembered. How could someone amass so many things in a year? He thought. He closed the lid and secured it before attempting to pick it up, but it was also a lot heavier than it looked. Instead, he decided to lift it by the handle on one end and drag it to the docking port. He probably should have taken it to the cargo transporter but it was further to drag it there than it was to the port itself. Starfleet assured its personnel that the transporters were safe, but he still didn’t trust those machines, even with non-organic material. He was just about to reach Xiang’s quarters when she emerged from them.

When she walked out to notice Scott was carrying his stuff she kind of chuckled, “why do you always have to do things the hard way when you can easily have had your stuff sent to the cargo transporter.” Xiang said as she had one bag with her that she never left out of her sight as it had valuable items in that she didn’t want anyone stealing. “I don’t get why you’re so afraid of using the transporters.” She teased as they began to walk down the corridor towards the docking port where they would board the Endeavour.

Even though he knew she was joking, he glared at her. “You know…instead of mocking me, you could always give me a hand. Besides, as an Engineer, I would expect you of all people to know why I don’t trust those things. I know Archer and his crew have used them personally, and Starfleet has been using them for a while for cargo transport but they take things apart molecule by molecule and reassemble them. That’s just not something I’m prepared to deal with right now.”

Scott could have talked endlessly about his dislike for transporters and probably would have, but before he knew it the two of them were standing in front of the docking port doors. He felt a sudden uneasiness in his stomach. In just a short period of time, they would be greeting yet another new Captain and he would be put in charge of an entire department.

She couldn’t help but chuckle for a moment as she would help him with his belongings, once they arrived at the port doors she looked back thinking how she would actually miss serving on the ship. It’s been an amazing ride even with the war going on, things on board seemed to be less stressful and now they were about to begin their new journey on the Endeavour in charge of an entire department which was a big step for her and Scott both. She looked at him with a smile knowing that they were in this together, “well here goes nothing.” Xiang said as they both headed on board the ship, and found their quarters which were across from each other. Now they would get settled and meet their new Captain.

Chief Petty Officer Chan squinted through the magnetic shielding protecting the Buran’s shuttlebay and set his hands on his hips. “That Shuttlepod Two?”

His colleague Braden tilted her head as the small grey dot grew larger. “Coming in a bit fast, isn’t it?”

“They are running late,” said Chan, with all the disparaging judgement of a seasoned deck chief whose schedule was being abused by uncaring officers. “Skipper wanted us setting off in the next -”

“Clear the deck!”

Chan turned, puffing with indignation at anyone else giving such an order on his flight deck. But he stopped in his tracks as the sliding doors admitted Doctor Seong bursting in with a gurney and a medical technician. “Shuttlepod Two’s reported an injury and requested a medical team on standby,” Seong explained breathlessly as she skidded the gurney to a halt.

Chan still urged them a few feet back, fully clear of the landing zone. “Urgent? Do we know who?”

“Ensign Puccio, at least a broken arm and unconsciousness.”

That could have meant anything, from near-death to easily being patched up with an on-board medical kit, but still Chan turned to the fast-approaching dot of Shuttlepod Two with his heart in his gut. “Oh no.”

Braden’s eyes widened. “Puccio will have been flying.”

“Yep.”

“Which means -”

“Yep.” Chan turned and lifted his hands. “Everyone step back another two metres.”

Then came Shuttlepod Two. If it were possible to skid to a stop when still airborne, Chan would have smelled burnt rubber and heard screeching at the pace it entered the bay before the impulse thrusters were brought into reverse to match the Buran’s velocity. Technically, it was within flight guidelines. Technically, no safety parameters had been abused.

Technically, Chan still wanted to throw things.

The shuttlepod hatch swung open, and boots hit the deck before the ramp down. “Doctor – oh, good, Doctor, yes, over here. Puccio’s fine, he regained consciousness about three minutes ago and Rodriguez was checking him, but you’d do best to make sure…” The barrage of blunt instructions was echoed by the appearance of a sallow-faced Ensign Puccio, clutching his arm but, indeed, conscious and shakily descending the ramp into the ready and waiting ministrations of Doctor Seong.

Despite himself, Chan stomped up. “Was that velocity on approach really necessary, Commander?”

Commander Leonov was not particularly above average height, but Chan was reminded that she was very good at seeming much taller when her imperious gaze fell on him. “We hit atmospheric interference on the flight up that threw Ensign Puccio from his seat. He broke his arm and lost consciousness so, yes, I assumed the controls. I had an injured crewmember aboard and Captain Sharpe made it clear she expected the surface expedition to be concluded by 1730.” Leonov turned away from him and gestured to the shuttlepod. “There’s nothing wrong with craft or deck, Chief. I’d say my speed was perfectly suitable.”

Doctor Seong had manoeuvred Puccio onto the gurney, and only now looked up. “Where’s Rodriguez?”

At that, the pale, shaky figure of Lieutenant Rodriguez appeared at the shuttlepod’s hatch. “I’m okay, Doctor,” he insisted. Then he threw up.

Leonov arched an eyebrow. “Maybe now there’s something wrong with your deck, Chief. As I said, we hit turbulence in the upper atmosphere. I think the lieutenant doesn’t care for my flying.”

“I’m okay,” Rodriguez groaned again.

“Good.” Leonov clapped him on the back once he alighted, which made the young officer look like he might lose his lunch once more. “Get our data down to Laboratory 2 and begin running analysis. The captain wants me to report in.” At once she turned on her heel and started for the doors, as ever moving at a brisk pace that would force anyone else to run. “And make sure Puccio’s alright, Doctor!”

Chan looked on with frustration as Rodriguez limped off and Seong began to wheel her patient away. Shuttlepod Two gently hissed as it cooled down, Rodriguez’s mess now settled onto the deck.

Braden sighed. “I’ll get the mop.”

As the old NX-class ships began to cycle back to the Sol system for upgrades and refits that resulted in the configuration of the larger Columbia-class, the tight corners and efficient pragmatism of the Buran had become an increasingly rare environment aboard Starfleet’s top-flight assignments. But by the standards of the rest of the fleet she was still positively cosy, and after a year aboard, Leonov moved with confidence around sharp turns, through small hatchways, and between occasionally thick crowds to reach the turbolift, the bridge, and the captain’s ready room.

“I don’t know why you’re complaining,” she said the moment the doors had shut behind her. “You gave me until 1730, we landed exactly on time, and that’s even accounting for the turbulence and Ensign Puccio’s accident – he’s fine, by the way -”

“God, Katya, shut up.” Captain Sharpe was a short, stout, middle-aged woman with a broad Yorkshire accent. “I’ve not said a bloody word and you’re already trying to be right and act like I’d rather chew you out than care about my pilot.”

Leonov stopped short before the captain’s desk. “Your instructions before we landed were for me to report immediately to you.”

“I’d wonder if you’ve got a guilty conscience, assuming it’s because I’m angry with you. But I know you don’t do that.” Sharpe pointed a stubby finger at the chair across. “Sit down and, again, shut up for once.”

Leonov slid into the chair. “If we’re going to warp, I’d hope this could wait until I have my samples in the lab and the analysis started -” But Sharpe glared, and she shut her mouth.

It took a moment for the captain to speak. Leonov knew by now the silence was a pointed gesture, an indication of Sharpe’s power, a demand that the conversation proceed at her pace, not her science officer’s. “Right,” Sharpe said at length. “I don’t give a toss about your botanical adventure on the surface. Let Rodriguez deal with it.”

“Then why -”

“God’s sake, woman.” Sharpe rolled her eyes. “We had word while you were down on the surface. Orders.” She slid a PADD across the desk. “Read.”

Leonov gingerly picked it up. Then scowled. “You’re getting rid of me.”

“You’re getting bumped up, lass,” said Sharpe, not sounding at all like she cared about Leonov’s upward mobility. “Endeavour finished her refit a month ago. More lab space.”

Leonov gave a bitter glance. “Don’t patronise me. Facilities will be focused on studying territory and enemy technology.”

“Fine, you get a bigger bed on a Columbia, I don’t bloody know. Anyway, better than that, someone in Command decided you’re XO material. Congratulations, start packing, we rendezvous with the Poseidon in a few days and they’ll take you to the Endeavour.”

A muscle worked in the corner of Leonov’s jaw as she studied the transfer orders. “It must be going quite badly,” she said in a low, dry tone, “if I’m XO material these days.”

“I know,” said Sharpe. The two women had worked together long enough that Leonov knew the captain held most of her skills in high regard. They had also worked together long enough that Leonov knew that Sharpe was not overly disposed towards gushing emotion in general, and was thoroughly sick of some of Leonov’s antics in particular. “Maybe try to not be a prized arse on this assignment, hey? Wars aren’t won by whether or not Katya Leonov’s the most correct person in the room.”

“…battles are sometimes won by whether or not you listen to my assessment of a warbird’s systems damage,” Leonov pointed out somewhat petulantly.

Sharpe stared at her for a moment. Then sighed. “It’s not like I won’t miss having someone in the senior staff who’ll tell me when they think I’ve got my head shoved up my arse. But I agree with Command that you should be someone else’s problem for a while. Go tell Captain Campbell when he’s wrong and try to help him wield that great ruddy Columbia-class warship as efficiently as possible into Rommie faces, hey?”

Leonov lifted her head, gaze apprehensive. “Command postings were never my ambition.”

“You’ve got a brain and we’ve got a war. Things happen.” Sharpe shrugged. Then her lips set to a thin line, a grimace of a smile, a brutal acceptance of warmth. “Buran will be worse off without you. For the love of God, make the Endeavour better off with you.”

Leonov scoffed as she straightened, that iron imperiousness returning to her posture. There was, mercifully and for once, a drop of self-awareness to her drawl when she answered. “You know me, Captain. I only make things better.”

Starbase One was busy.

As the war had entered something of a lull, the opportunity had been taken to reorganize and restructure the fleet – many of Starfleet’s now most experienced bodies had been shuffled around to spread their wealth of knowledge with their previous positions being replaced by in most cases younger and less experienced  heads. It had also allowed many of Starfleet’s most important pieces some proper downtime and so with both Endeavour and Poseidon periodically coming alongside came not only a plethora of Earth’s smaller vessels to provide security and replacements to take up the respective duties the two major Starfleet assets wouldn’t be fufilling for a time but also a never ending caravan of supply and transport vessels carrying well needed materials and replacement personnel as the seemingly never ending wheel of reassignments continued to turn.

For Ensign Bethany Lewis, Petty Officer Kentaro Uchida and the handful of  Endeavour medical personnel that had been requested to expand Doctor Wishmore’s team, very little of that would be at the forefront of their respective minds as they took their first steps aboard the quite impressive Starbase One. The Corridors swarming with a seemingly impossible number of people aboard a single installation, it was beyond anything the Tennessee born nurse had expected to see so far from home, “This way, I think” she called to the small gathering of equally lost Endeavour personnel behind her as they continued to push through the crowds.

For Petty Officer Uchida however, the scene was one is was far more familiar with than most of the fresh faced recent academy graduates or training passouts he had undertaken the journey from Earth with. Despite still being relatively young, his years of services extended beyond those with Starfleet to a time spent in far more cramped conditions than any starship that Earth had managed to put into space. His time serving his home nation navigating the homeworld’s oceans had prepared him well and while he had served in a similar capacity to the one he now fufilled for Starfleet, quite fortunately for his new colleagues, he had also been a reasonable navigator on the few occasions that had required it from him, “Ensign Lewis,” He called after the young nurse, “Might it be this way, Ma’am?” He gestured toward a corridor they had all but missed that would lead them to the final leg of the journey toward Endeavour.

“Oh,” Beth responded, visibly a little flustered as the crowds started to get to her and her normally well hidden native southern drawl exposted it’s self,  “Yes, I think it might actually. Thank you Kentaro.”

“You’re most welcome, Ma’am.” The Kyoto native responded with a smile that Ensign Lewis found oddly calming, “May I?” He asked, gently gesturing to one of the many bags she was carrying in an offer of help. If there was one thing he had learned from his naval service – and there were far more than one – it was how to pack light and so he had been left with plenty of limb space on which to hang other people’s luggage although probably somewhat telling, it was only Ensign Lewis out of the group that had really over packed.

“Oh. Thank you,” Beth accepted the offer of help, passing one of her medium sized items to the Petty Officer to carry, “I’m sorry,” She spoke shyly, “This is all so new…”

“I understand, Ma’am,” Uchida said, a reassuring warmness to his voice, “We shall learn and adjust together.”

Nodding as a broad smile – the kind that only a truly happy person could manage – overcame her, Lewis agreed, “I can’t wait!”

Endeavour NX-06

So many at home had heard stories of the wartime exploits of Endeavour, her sister ships and those that manned her. Such stories had done well in restoring faith and moral that had waned at points during the conflict and had inspired many to join the fight in their own right and whilst it was reasonable to say that both Ensign Lewis and Petty Officer Uchida could be counted among those people, neither of them had actually believed they would one day be standing aboard the now Colombia class starship.

And yet, there they were. Clearing the security process to be granted access only took a moment and once aboard  they were provided with detailed directions to their own quarters where most of the small group opted for some rest. Their journey had been long and less comfortable than anybody would have liked and despite the fact that the entire group would be sharing quarters, aboard Endeavour that would still provide more space per person than any of the transport ships that were being used to ferry Starfleet personnel between assignments did.

Neither Beth or Kentaro however had any desire to yet retire to their respective quarters for rest and so after dropping their belongings off, they headed deeper into their new home to find their primary place of work.

“What do you suppose Doctor Wishmore is really like?” Ensign Lewis asked in a far more hushed tone than any she’d used since being introduced to her new colleagues, pausing for a moment as a pair of red uniformed crewmembers passed in the opposite direction, “I read some things about him before we left Earth – about his Dad and that election he lost. It sounded like they’ve had a hard time lately.”

“The hardest decision one makes is to leave family at home to put onces self at harm,” Kentaro said in a matter of fact tone, “The doctor did not have to be here and yet here he is. I believe him to be a good man based on this.”

“That’s very true,” Beth replied with a smile as the two continued.

It surprised even Ensign Lewis the mix of emotion she felt as they finally came to the large frosted glass sliding doors that indicated that they were finally standing outside of Endeavour’s sickbay. She had seen photos many times but standing outside of them was something else. It was like she had finally come home to the place she was meant to be.

“I hope they like us.” She whispered to her new japanese friend

“Come,” Kentaro chuckled, taking a step toward sickbay before gesturing once more for Ensign Lewis to take the first steps through the door. He could see in her body language what the moment was going to mean to her and wanted to allow her to take the first step through the door.

“No!” She cried out with a broad smile as she took hold of his hand, “Together!”

Sickbay, Endeavour NX-06

Taking advantage of the peace and quiet as most of the crew took advantage of a much deserved period of respite to squeeze in some R&R, Doctor Wishmore had decided to take up residence in sickbay whilst seeing to some long overdue paperwork that he’d allowed to pile up over the course of their convoy duties. It was – as it was for most senior officers – by far his least favourite part of the job but something that Endeavour’s second officer appreciated as necessary regardless.

Nursing his third cup of coffee as he placed another item on his finished pile, Jacob was somewhat taken aback as the doors to his temporary office parted. Rising from his chair, he stared at the two figures standing in the doorway with a mild bafflement, a look one could easily confuse with annoyance to the unacquainted.

“Oh. We uh…” Ensign Lewis stared at the man she easily recognised as the ship’s Chief Medical officer among other things, a feeling of dread overcoming her as her stomach flipped.

Processing exactly what he was looking at, the confused expression quickly gave way to a broad and welcoming smile. Whilst his new staff might well have looked into their new boss, he had done the same and was far more familiar with the new faces joining him than he probably had any right to be, “Ensign Bethany Lewis, Nurse.” He beamed at the young woman as he approached and extended a hand that was quickly accepted for a gentle handshake, “And Petty Officer Kentaro Uchida,” Another hand extentsion and a firmer shake this time, “Welcome! Please come in, it’s wonderful to finally meet you both.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Lewis responded shyly as she and Kentaro followed Wishmore into the room.

“I suppose the others wanted to have a rest. I can’t really say i blame them, it’s not the most pleasant journey as I recall,” The doctor spoke at a million miles an hour, a clear symptom of too much caffein.

“Oh it wasn’t all bad,” Bethany replied, a smile far meeker than any Kentaro had seen from her during the trip coming out.

“Would you like some coffee?” Wishmore enquired, turning back to face his two newest team members, gesturing toward the half empty coffee pot he’d set up by his work station before seeing to finding some seating for the nurse and medic, “You know, i’ve heard some quite wonderful things about both of you. I’m very glad you were both available to join us here!”

“Thank you, Doctor” Ensign Lewis responded for a second time, shooting Kentaro an excited grin as she did.

After briefing Doctor Wishmore on the change in the command staff going ahead as well as saying final goodbyes to those who were leaving, Campbell had the job of welcoming his new first officer on board. Without a doubt she had more of an illustrious Starfleet career in comparison to his. Though she had been in the service longer than he, the only one thing they had in common was their past positions as a pilot. Campbell had wondered if that would be some sort of common ground the two could build a relationship on. He was still bitter about having to lose his friend and current executive officer, but it was all for the greater good of the war effort. Patel had joked with Campbell that they should have started a tally in the ready room for every time a superior had used that phrase. The captain was now considering the idea. 

Campbell was grateful though that his doctor and second officer agreed to be with him to meet Commander Leonov. Deciding the right place to do it was the captain’s ready room, Wishmore had left his duties in sickbay behind and was now sitting in the arm chair in the corner of the room while Campbell was at his desk. The two men waited for her arrival. 

Strumming his fingertips on the top of his desk, Campbell looked at Wishmore and sarcastically added one more comment from their earlier conversation about the amount of staff changes they had endured in just a year alone. “If Starfleet tries to remove you from the ship, do me a favour and resign your commission? I can then make you a civilian consultant in the role of chief medical officer.”

“If I resign my commission,” Wishmore spoke dryly, a smirk fixed upon his lips, “I’ll be turning to a life of piracy.”

Smirking in response, Campbell didn’t have the chance to say anything else before the door chime went off. Taking a breath, he sat up straight in his chair, pushed his mug of tea behind a photo of him and Fynn before replying. “Come in.”

Walking in first was his yeoman, who had met and escorted the woman to his office. “Sir, this is Commander Katya Leonov,” Knight said, beginning the introductions and then looking at the commander behind him, presenting his commanding officer to her. “Ma’am, this is Captain Oliver Campbell, commanding officer of the Endeavour N-X-Oh-Six.”

“Thank you Romeo, dismissed.” Campbell said as he looked up at her and decided he would stand to welcome her. Extending his hand out towards her after Knight had squeezed past her, Campbell shook her hand. “Welcome aboard the Endeavour, commander.”

Leonov’s handshake was brisk, and while there was nothing discourteous in her gaze and manner, there was little warmth as she took in the sight of the ready room and the two men. “Thank you, Captain. I appreciate you not making me wait; I’ve little fondness for settling in slowly.”

After letting go of her grip, Campbell turned to Wishmore. “Commander Leonov, this is Commander Jacob Wishmore, our second officer and chief medical officer.”

Wishmore received an arch, assessing look from Leonov before she extended a hand. “A pleasure. Do you prefer ‘Commander‘ to ‘Doctor‘?”

Smiling as courteously as he could manage toward Endeavour‘s new XO as he accepted the handshake, Wishmore shrugged slightly, “Actually that’s something I’m still trying to decide on.”

“Please take a seat.” Campbell offered to the spare armchair that sat on the other side of his desk. “Do you have your transfer papers for me, commander?”

Without thinking or looking down, Leonov unzipped one of her uniform pockets and pulled out the tablet. “Board the Poseidon NP-01 for transit and report to Endeavour NX-06 for reassignment as Executive Officer and Chief Science Officer,” she recited dryly, and handed it over. “With the delighted signature and compliments of Captain Sharpe of the Buran.”

“Thank you.” Campbell remarked as he took the data tablet out of her hands, quickly glanced down at them and placed them on his desk, knowing full well that he would approve it later and get Knight to finish off the paperwork. “I’ve been told your move over to us was quite sudden, I hope it wasn’t too much of a stress. I’m keen for us to make this a smooth transition as possible and Doctor Wishmore will be available to assist you with that.”

She glanced to Wishmore only for a moment before her eyes returned to Campbell. “How difficult that is really depends on what you want from an XO. I’ve no concerns about getting up to speed on maintaining the duty roster and shift schedules. Being your go-between to the crew is the sort of relationship that takes time.” But Leonov shrugged. “Though I assume in a time of war, nobody will expect their XO to tend to their scraped knees and hurt feelings.”

Somewhat taking back with her almost brisk response, Campbell sat up in his chair and on some level was pleased she understood some of the expectations he would have of her as his new right-hand woman. “Leave the scraped knees to Jacob, but I do expect you to keep on top of the crew’s mental wellbeing,” He paused as he cleared his throat, “even in a time of war.”

“A crew with a crushed morale will hardly be effective under stress, quite,” Leonov mused. “As I understand it, the Endeavour has been through quite a lot in a particularly short space of time, especially considering most of the crew’s experience?”

“We do have a somewhat young and inexperienced crew. Though we retained a good number prior to Endeavour’s refit, those who joined afterwards are almost fresh out of Starfleet Training Command and most of them have only done a few months of enlisted drills.” Campbell shared. “So I am expecting you to work with Jacob and our chief of the boat to stay on top of everyone to ensure we don’t have any slip through the net in not giving us their best.”

“I’m sure we can work on something.” It was hard, without having a strong read on Leonov, to tell if her brusqueness was dismissive or matter-of-fact. “But I find that nothing instills confidence more than being successful in the first place. Results beget further results. It seems they should have a little confidence under their belt by now.”

“Endeavour has earned itself a reputation since its launch over a year ago that rivals that of other ships like Enterprise and Challenger. Buran is now on that list, so I don’t expect us to drop our standards. I expect my command staff,” Campbell noted in his thick Scottish accent, glancing at Wishmore and back to Leonav, “to maintain a high standard, especially with the fact Starfleet is keeping a close eye on us since the refit.” Campbell paused in his speech, he wanted to make sure she understood his vision from the get go. “I see from your service record that you previously served as a pilot before entering the science division.” Campbell commented, indicating towards his computer screen that had her biography scrolling slowly on it, including her performance reviews and the awards she had received. “It’d be nice to have someone else on the senior staff who I can share ideas on manoeuvres when we find ourselves going into battle.”  

“I was a test pilot. I’ve not been a helm officer since before the war,” Leonov said with a shrug, then a certain light sparked in her eye. “But I’m curious to see the flight capabilities of the refit under adverse conditions. I look forward to this planning, as well as the results.”

“Indeed.” Campbell remarked back with. “Well, if there’s nothing else for us to discuss at this point, I’m happy to let you settle in and sort out your belongings into your new quarters. Though later on, we are holding a sort of informal gathering for the new crew members joining us, I’d expect to see you there at twenty-hundred hours in the mess hall, deck five.”  

Leonov nodded. “Of course.”

“Doctor, do you mind showing the good commander to her cabin please?” Campbell requested. He wanted to give them a chance to speak privately without him around. They would be becoming his close circle of trust now, so he knew he needed to give them the chance to build a rapport. 

“It would be my pleasure, Captain,” Turning to Lenov, Jacob offered another friendly smile, “Whenever you’re ready, Ma’am.”

She pushed to her feet. “Lead on, Doctor.”

Before they left, Campbell called after Lenov. “Commander, one final thing.” He stopped her in her tracks. “Like Commodore Paulsen and some other skippers in the fleet, I like referring to my Executive Officers as Number One, is that going to be an issue?”

She stopped in the doorway, one eyebrow arching. “I don’t -” Care sounded like the word that did not escape her lips, the thoughtless sentence grabbed before it could finish spilling out. Leonov shut her mouth and stood a little straighter before she inclined her head. “No issue, Captain.”

Smirking to himself, Campbell watched as the pair of officers left his office and sat back to consider what his newest Number One was going to be like.

Feeling like he was becoming strapped to his desk, Captain Campbell was sitting reading through the service records of the other new members that had now joined his crew. Sipping on a mug of tea, the Scottish man welcomed the sound of the door chime going off as a good distraction. That said sudden realisation then washed over him on who it would be. He would be meeting Patel and Wilcox’s replacements. “Enter.” He answered in a firm tone, eyes still fixed on the screen.Two unfamiliar figures walked in and stood to the side of his desk. Finishing the last sentence, he placed his mug down and looked up at them. “Miss Meihui and Mister Mitchell, welcome aboard Endeavour.”

After entering the Captain’s ready room she looked at Scott for a brief moment and with a smile, “Thank you, sir.” Xiang replied as she stood there.

“Thank you, sir.” replied Scott at full attention given the captain’s formal tone, following Xiang’s lead.

Remaining in his seat and looking up at the two officers standing to attention, he truly hoped that the two of them were ready for what Endeavour was going to challenge them with. Commodore Paulsen seemed to like them, even though they had only served under for a short amount of time. Campbell didn’t recognise either one of them; they had obviously joined the ship after he had left the Poseidon following the Battle of Sol about fifteen months ago. “Lieutenants, I’m not going to beat around the bush with either of you. You are replacing two very senior experienced officers on my crew. This ship underwent several staff changes at the start of its launch; those you are succeeding have been here for a long time and have since established two very strong departments. Suffice to say you both have some very big shoes to fill.” Not willing to let them have a moment to say anything, the captain continued. “And with your transfers comes promotions for you both to the rank of lieutenant commander. Congratulations, I hear from Commodore Paulsen that you two are fine officers that she has had serving under her.” He paused to take a breath, “I know the commodore very well and for her to make a comment like that means a lot, so I hope you both live up to that reputation she has given you. Any questions?”

She listened quietly as the captain spoke, but when it got towards the last of what he had to say shocked her. She was not only got the spot of Chief she also was being promoted to Lieutenant Commander. “Thank you, sir, that was unexpected,” she replied looking at Scott with a grin. She wasn’t sure what else to say, or if she really had any questions. “I will not let you down, I will keep things running smoothly as the last Chief.” She said as she knew that she had some big shoes to fill and her team will take some time to adjust to a new Chief.

“I’m pretty certain, I asked if you had any questions lieutenant commander,” Campbell said, a bit annoyed that his new chief engineer believed she was ready for following in Patel’s footsteps. “And I certainly didn’t give you permission to be at ease with me. Is that going to be a problem moving forward?”

She looked at him raising her eyebrows, she wasn’t sure if she really liked this commanding officer that didn’t understand it was just her personality. Frowning with a sigh, “no sir,” she said as she looked at him before giving Scott a look.

Scott caught a glimpse of Xiang’s facial expression, but given his new captain’s retort, didn’t dare say anything until he had finished scolding his friend and colleague.

“Commander Patel was my first officer and one of two chief engineers that I’ve had the honour of serving with on this ship since I took command. I only want the best from you. Is that clear, lieutenant commander?” Campbell threw back at her.

She nodded, “yes sir” she responded and didn’t say anything else. She made a mental note to play like a Vulcan around him and show no kind of emotion even though that was not who she was. She wasn’t sure she was going to like it on the Endeavour anymore, the commodore had told her all good things about the captain but never mentioned how serious he was. She just wanted this meeting to get done as quickly as it started.

“Good,” Campbell said towards the engineer before looking at his new armoury chief. “Mister Mitchell, do you have any questions?”

With his head now in the guillotine, Scott suddenly felt like he was perspiring more than usual and wasn’t sure how he should answer the question. Nothing was immediately coming to him, but after a few seconds he was finally able to speak up, “It’s wartime sir. I expect most of us will be flying by the seat of our pants for a good while. I know I can’t replace the person your former Chief was on Endeavour, and nor would I dare to, but I will do my best to not let you down. I suppose the only question I have is, is there anything I need to be made aware of before addressing my department staff?”

“Nothing Mister Mitchell.” Campbell answered. He looked over to his desk and back to the two of them. “We’re having an informal gathering in the mess hall later this evening for the crew to meet our new additions. Both of you will of course attend. In the mean time, I suggest you both visit our quartermaster and update your mission patches and see if they have any spare additional pips.”

“Yes sir, and thank you sir.” Scott said, referring to his promotion even though the moment of congratulation had passed.

“Yes sir,” is all she said as she stood there waiting to be dismissed.

“Once you’ve done that, I expect you to meet with your respective departments. I’d like a status update from you both by eighteen hundred hours.” Campbell picked up his mug of tea and looked at them both. “Dismissed.” He ordered before taking a sip and returning to his work.

There were times when Campbell enjoyed the peace and privacy of his ready room, then there were times he hated it. For the latter the reasons were simply down to the fact he would need to lock himself away to get any administrative work done without outside interference. 

With Patel leaving and his new first officer settling in, Campbell had turned his attention back to the crew roster and to see if he could solve the issue of losing some of his crew to the recent transfers. The first issue was he no longer had duty officers for the Gamma and Delta Shifts. Both lieutenants that he had trained up from day one of him assuming command of Endeavour had been moved to other postings within the fleet. With Starfleet not sending them anyone else to replace them, Campbell knew he had been a bit more inventive. Picking up his mug of tea, he took a sip and looked back at the possible candidates he could consider. 

An idea cropped into his brain and before he could take it any further the intercom went off and the voice of his chief communication officer followed. 

Ricci had been busy trying to decrypt some information that the captain had sent him a few days earlier. He was told not to talk about it without anyone else. After many hours he had finally broken the code. “Ricci to Campbell, Sir do you have a moment?”

Tapping on the intercom panel built into his desk, the captain answered. “Go ahead Antione.”

“I have that information you had requested Captain.” He replied trying to not reveal anything important. “We are also being hailed by the Poseidon and they’re requesting to speak to you, Sir.”

“I’ll be there shortly.” Campbell answered and closed the call before getting up from his desk to return to the bridge. Walking out of his office and onto his bridge, he was pleased to see who was on duty. Randall was at the helm, while Chang sat next to him at the new navigation controls. The new upgrades to the bridge required the helm station to be manned by two people and at the moment Chang was the only other person, besides Randall’s deputy, the captain and their new first officer, who were qualified to man such a station. Looking over to Ricci, who had his finger holding on to his earpiece, Campbell gave him the gesture to open the channel to the Poseidon.

The main viewer changed to show Commodore Paulsen sitting in the centre of her bridge. “Captain Campbell, I’m happy to announce the final crew transfers have been completed and we are now relieving you of your convoy duty assignment.“

Smiling at his friend, mentor and superior, Campbell bowed his head slightly. “We stand relieved, ma’am. Godspeed.”

“Likewise, happy hunting Endeavour.” Paulsen then looked off to the side and gave a nod before the channel was cut.

Glancing down at the helm, Campbell issued the next set of orders. “Chief, disengage the extended airlock with the Poseidon and secure all moorings.”

“Aye Captain” Minna replied, enjoying the relative calm of manning a station without being shot at.

“Josh,” Campbell called to his pilot,  “once we are free from all connections with the Poseidon then plot us a course away from the convoy. Set a heading for Starbase One, warp four-point-five.”

“Aye, sir.” Randall quickly laid in the new course and speed. “Course laid in, captain.”

Feeling the gentle hum of the impulse engines increase in power and speed, Campbell watched his crew undertake their tasks with ease and precision. “Lieutenants Ricci, Randall and Chief Chang, a word in my ready room.”

Minna stood up, her left knee a bit stiff, but far better than it would have been before the reconstruction and artificial joint.

Ricci stood up from his seat and made sure there was a comms officer present before he preceded to the captain’s ready room. It wasn’t often he got called to the ready room hopefully it wasn’t something bad.

Randall stood up and handed over the helm to another officer, then he walked to the captain’s ready room.

“I’ve got an idea I want to run past you three.” Campbell explained after the group had followed him into his office. 

Minna just found an empty piece of wall to lean against.

Randall nodded. “Yes sir.”

Ricci raised his one eye intrigued “What would that be, Sir?”

“As you know, we’ve lost a few key personnel and for some of them we are not going to get any replacements anytime soon.” Campbell said as he picked up his mug. “So, I was wondering what your thoughts are around you three picking up a few more responsibilities on the ship?”

“Whatever you need Captain” Minna replied.  She’d worked pretty much every position on the ship at one time or another, and pretty much every job within the MACOs before the final attack on the Xindi weapon.

“I would be happy to do more, sir. Whatever is best for the ship.” Randall replied.

“I would be willing to help, wherever I can sir, but if I may ask what exactly did you have in mind?” Ricci asked knowing the Captain would surely explain.

“Well namely I would like you three to take on a few more extra duties on the bridge during Gamma or Delta shifts.” Campbell explained, he looked at the two officers first. “You two hold the rank of full lieutenant and with that comes certain command privileges and more important expectations. You both run two of the smallest departments on the ship, so I could do with you both stepping up and leading on one of these shifts a few times a week.”

“I can’t speak for anyone else, sir, but I would be very willing to work the extra shifts, sir.” Randall smiled.

It was true that Ricci ran one of the smallest departments, but he also doubled as the ship’s protocol officer. He didn’t mind the jobs and he was definitely willing to help the Captain. “I will lead whichever shift you want me to, Sir. I am also willing to help in any other way I can as well.”

“And chief, with your experience from all areas, having you command two or three shifts a week would assist greatly as well.” Campbell remarked to the senior enlisted crewmember.

“That shouldn’t be a problem” Minna replied.

“I’ll work with Petty Officer Knight to update the duty roster and you’ll get the revisions sent to your stations shortly.” Campbell said, he then looked to Ricci. “Lieutenant, last task for you. I want us to organise an informal gathering for the crew tonight in the crew lounge at twenty-hundred hours. I want you to liaise with chef to get this sorted and ready.”

Antione nodded “I will go talk to the chef now and make sure everything is set up, Sir! If there’s not anything else I will go take care of that right now.”

“Thank you,” The captain focussed on Randall. “Josh, take us to warp once we are clear of the convoy. Dismissed.” Campbell ordered them all.

“Aye sir.” Randall replied before leaving the room and heading back to his station.

After their arrival onboard the Endeavour Xiang had arrived at her quarters after separating from Scott on their walk. A lot was going on through her head about their new assignments. She was just getting in her grove aboard the Poseidon, making some friends along the way. Now she would have to start all over, though she did have her best friend here with her which will make things a lot easier to bear.

Walking in she looked around, it was a lot different than the shared quarters she had on her last assignment. She had it all to herself which was going to be nice for a change, she noticed sitting in the middle of the floor her belongings was already there waiting. Setting her bag that she had kept with her down on the bed, she just made mental notes in her head of where she wanted everything to go.

She had a lot going through her head with everything that is changing, she opened one of the totes and began to unpack it placing things where she wanted them. She had a calming cent-type candle that didn’t require any use of flames. It helped her with meditation after a long day, to unwind before going to sleep. She placed that on the nightstand near her bed.

She had some pictures she hung up on the walls, that were calming to look at. Where you would get lost just looking at. She would focus on some of these pictures when she meditated as well. She would spend the next thirty minutes unpacking and placing things in their rightful place.

Looking around once she finished, making any adjustments if needed. “Perfect,” Xiang replied as she sat down on the bed and smiled. She looked at the time, she still had a few more minutes before she met with the Captain so she decided to grab something quick to eat.

After ordering her food she sat down at her desk area and began to eat, and think. “I wonder what the Captain is like?” she asked herself, though with the war going on it was hard to tell. Though from what Commodore Paulson said he was a good officer and commanding officer.

After she finished eating and putting the dishes back she straightened her uniform and took a deep breath. “Well here goes nothing,” she said to herself as she headed out of her quarters and down the hallway just as she noticed Scott walked out at the same time.

Seemed they were both heading to see the Captain, at least she wouldn’t be on her own and they talked all the way until they reached their destination pressing the door chime. They waited for their turn to be called in, she was nervous hoping to make a good first impression.

“Ouch.” Trommler said as he winced at what he was hearing his husband retell him while laying across their king size bed. “You actually told her off for not giving you a question. That’s harsh Ollie, even for you.”

Rolling his eyes, Campbell had his back to his husband as he pulled over a black t-shirt over his chest. The two of them were currently relaxing in their quarters while off duty and Campbell had shared with his other half how his day had gone since his meeting with Commodore Paulsen. “It wasn’t harsh.” He said, defending his actions earlier on in the day when meeting his new chief engineer. “As her commanding officer, if I ask you if you have any questions it’s a simple response: yes or no. If it’s the former, then ask me. I don’t need to hear how well you plan to be great at your new job.”

“Damn, what side of the bed did you wake up on this morning?” Trommler asked as he continued to throw a soccer ball in the air and catch it with his left hand. “I’ve never known you to be that harsh while on duty.”

Sitting on the edge of their bed, Campbell pulled his trainers out of the draw under the bed and started to put them on. “I suppose I was a bit harsh, it’s just everything that has happened today has pissed me off so much, Fynn.”

“Yeah, but do you want your new officers to respect you or fear you?” Trommler questioned as he continued throwing the ball up. “I mean, I get you need to have a strong formality in the chain of command but that’s not the type of ship you and Rohan have spent the past year or so building.”

“And that’s the problem there.” Campbell complained, “I don’t have Rohan here anymore. Instead Starfleet ships him and several others off without my consent and I get given only a few replacements. We’ve finally got Endeavour in a good place and they rip it apart.”

Placing the ball down beside him on the bed, Trommler shuffled over and wrapped his arms around his husband. “Someone needs a hug from a bad day?”

Appreciating the gesture, Campbell squeezed Trommler’s hands. “Thanks Fynn, it’s just frustrating.”

“And I suppose your new MACO detachment commander can’t make it up to you?” Trommler said in a low and almost seductive tone as he leant in closer to Campbell’s left ear.

Leaning away from his husband’s advancements, Campbell looked at him and responded. “Acting detachment commander.” He reminded him. “You never know, the good major may return or General Casey may assign someone else.”

“Highly unlikely on the former with what she was telling me before she left earlier. This new position on Vega is going to keep her busy and at the moment there’s not enough senior officers to fill in on the various ships that units are assigned to.” Trommler said, giving up trying to flirt and make his other half feel less tense. 

“And General Casey has no issues with you serving under me in this new role?” Campbell questioned, referring to the man who led the MACOs. 

“No, as long as you have no problems with me going into dangerous situations.” Trommler answered honestly. “No special treatment, just like before.”

Chuckling slightly as he tied his shoelaces, Campbell snorted a bit. “Don’t worry, I won’t be doing any of that.”

“Not on duty any way.” Trommler said with a wink. “Now are we going to the gym or are we just going to sit here longer? Don’t we have that informal gathering in a few hours?”

“Okay, stop moaning.” Campbell grumbled back at his husband as he finished putting his last shoe on and stood up. Taking Trommler’s hand into his eyes as they left their quarters, Campbell wondered if his husband’s words about how he treated his new engineer and armoury officer were warranted. 

“So, you didn’t say anything about Commander Leonov. What’s she like?” Trommler probed as they walked down the corridor.

“Not sure on her,” Campbell answered before adding “yet” at the end. 

“How come?” Trommler asked as they turned into a corridor. “Was she not friendly?”

“She was civil,” Campbell replied. “I suppose I need to see her in action more to make a real judgement.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” Trommler stated. “You didn’t do the whole ‘be my Number One’ routine on her?”

Chuckling slightly, Campbell grinned at his husband as his answer.

“Oh, you’re a bad, bad man.” Trommler laughed slightly as he looked at his husband.

“In the service of a vengeful enemy, apparently.” Campbell said as he led them down towards the gym. “Now, are you going to let me beat you in this one on one session or will I need to find a different outlet for my frustration?”

“Depends on what type of outlet you’re looking to use and abuse me in!” Trommler remarked as they finally walked into the lift that would take them from deck five to deck three.

“Damn, we should have stayed in then!” Campbell countered back as the door started to close behind him.

“Sir,” came a familiar shout from down the corridor. “Sir, wait a second please!” 

Turning around, Campbell placed his hand on the door to stop it from closing and saw his yeoman approaching them quickly. “No running in the halls, Romeo.”

Knight stopped as he approached the captain and his husband, almost out of breath and looked worried. “Pardon sir? What was that?”

“Ignore him, Romeo. The captain is being grumpy that we’re going off to do some weight lifting and sparring in the gym and he may be beaten by our new MACO leader.” Trommler said smugly. 

Knight looked confused further, “Oh, so you know about the transfer?” He asked Campbell and Trommler.

“Transfer?” Campbell repeated. “What are you talking about Romeo?”

Passing the tablet in his hand towards his superior. “This just came in, a last minute transfer and I had to get Doctor Wishmore to approve it as I couldn’t find you and Commodore Paulsen said it was urgent and-”

“Slow down Romeo.” Campbell said as he took the tablet and read it. “What do you mean about a transfer? The commodore didn’t say a word about any transfer to me in regards to a MACO leader. She said Fynn would have to take over.”

“Apparently the medical transfer papers were delayed, or something like that but a Major Caiden is about to board the ship from Poseidon. The commodore hadn’t told you about it as it looked like Starfleet Medical hadn’t processed her medical report from MACO Headquarters, some sort of admin muck up from what I can tell.” Knight explained. He looked at Trommler. “Sorry sir, but you’re not leading the unit.”

“Well that’s some sort of relief, I suppose.” Trommler remarked before looking at his husband who appeared to be reading the new major’s service record. A shocked expression appeared across Campbell’s face. “What’s wrong Ollie?”

“No wonder there was a delay in the transfer taking place and that the commodore hadn’t told me anything. The orders come from Division Fourteen.” Campbell said. “Earth’s specialist in dealing with mysterious science- or medical-related problems.”

Trommler and Knight just looked at one another before looking at the captain, all of them just wondering who was about to join them from such a place.

LOG OF SUKRET OF VULCAN, RESIDENT HEALER
CROSS-SPECIES MEDICAL EXCHANGE PROGRAM
ON SPECIAL SERVICE TO DIVISION 14, UNITED EARTH MEDICAL

LOG BEGINS

It is often said as an axiom across many cultures and societies: The Needs of the Many, Outweigh the Needs of the Few…or the One. Indeed, the willingness to sacrifice the good of the one for the good of the many, is the foundation of almost every sapient social structure with very few extreme exceptions.

It is with this calculus in my mind, that I understand and comprehend the reactivation orders for Patient 1123-Null, Saorise Hess-Caidin, to return to active duty in her people’s military service…for they are hard pressed for experienced and trained officers and facing a foe that has backed them into an increasingly smaller region of space, a foe that has troubled my own people as well of late.

I understand these orders, but I cannot agree with them. Few decisions born of such desperation can have a desirable outcome.

Since coming to live amongst Humanity on Earth, as part of an exchange program for practioners of medicine, it has been my work to observe and learn about this society’s medical practices, techniques, and technology…and though often crude, antiquated, or unsophisticated, they are by and large a competent and surprisingly rational group of fellows.

Upon receiving these orders, many of my colleagues whom have worked on the 1123-N Case, have lost this sense of rationality and instead have been given to several incidences of emotional outbursts and increasingly louder voices of dissent.

For the effectiveness of such outbursts, I shall defer to their more expert opinion in such matters and simply refer the review of the other notations attached to this file, copied with the original “colourful metaphors” and profane idioms used by their respective authors, intact for posterity.

Instead, I shall inform you of the progress that I have contributed to so far with this patient.

Originally, I was requested by Division 14 to be a consultant on non-human technology at the heart of the 1123-Null puzzle, my past experience in the Medical Exchange upon other worlds and cultures being as close to an approximation to an expert on such things that was available…my responsibilities since then, however, have evolved…specifically in trying to adapt Vulcan mental discipline and theraputic techniques to the Human psyche. Some implants could neither be removed nor deactivated…the more problematic of these were also ones that were not within the bounds of conscious control of 1123, and instead responded to either outside stimuli triggers or internal mechanics of biology, such autonomous response.

It was these pieces of technology that became the focus of my time with 1123, who I began to instruct in the adapted techniques…at first, I believe she agreed to such strictures if only for the relative novelty of them, though she was quick to understand the concepts and theories.

Execution of said concepts and theories into practice however, has been…difficult. Of particular note, the adrenal invigorator which is triggered by the fight-or-fight neurological response, has been quite problematic to master and control…given the side effects of the activation of this implant, the continued prospects without concious control are quite negative.

I cannot physically go with 1123 upon her reactivation to military service, which places her training and long-term prospects in significant jeopardy…however, the events of the past few solar cycles on Vulcan have made available another option. One not without it’s risks and potential for danger to all parties concerned, but one that would provide the patient with just enough control to avoid complete disaster.

Traditional Healers on Vulcan have long been at least tangentially associated with the Cyranite spiritual reform movement…and now that T’Pau has ascended the High Command, there are techniques available to our healing caste without having to face the censor or prosecutor.

Still, such an option is one of inherent privacy.

I shall bring an option devised from such techniques to the Subject tomorrow, before her official release from Division 14’s custody. I shall not be informing my colleagues prior to this, and this record shall only be of concern should I suffer any side effects of neural backlash that would leave me unable to relay the emergency information myself.

The specifics of my plan and the technique employed, shall be explained in my personal files, under document CASEID:1123-Null-Sukret-VIII. The Access code will be embedded in the metadata for this log.

The needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the few…or the one.

LOG ENDS

There was a stillness…a feeling of serene confidence…a calm pool of water into which a single ring of ripples moved across the surface with each breath. Not what Saorise had expected for her return to space, even the occasional turbulence from the Shuttlepod’s thrusters seemed muted and kept at bay from her mind.

She sat in the passenger’s seat and closed her eyes, focusing on the memory of a burning candle. Focusing on the flame that danced upon the wick and the stern voice of a Vulcan master, devoid of emotional inference, but still carrying the weight of over a century of acquired wisdom and knowledge. “Focus on the flame…let your breath slow down until you find the center of your core…emotions are like the flame, enticing, beautiful, distracting, and destructive…notice how easily they can flit and flicker away, how a simple spark can become a wildfire, when not controlled. Now see beyond the flame…see that even all this apparent chaos is still ruled by the fundlemental physics of nature….”

”…the chemical reactions bound by the physical logic of existence.” She finished the instruction with a whisper.

”Did you say something, ma’am?” The voice of the shuttle’s pilot called back. He was a young, too young perhaps, Starfleet ensign, a Filipino by the accent, and had a certain anxious energy about him. Saorise had heard that the Commonwealth forces were pushing hard to replenish in the face of attrition by the Romulans, but she hadn’t thought that might include crashing cadets through Starfleet Academy as quickly as possible…and yet, without the evidence of a service record to review, this Ensign could easily be the result of such a desperate measure.

Then again, if true, it would still not have been as desperate a measure as the actual Military had taken with her.

“Not really, just running a few ideas through my head.” She got up from the chair straightened the camos and browns of her MACO active duty uniform and made her way to the cockpit windows, placing a hand on the back of the pilot’s chair. “We should be nearing the Endeavour soon, yes?”

The pilot nodded. “I am just about to take us arouund to her, aye. Starboard window in…6 seconds.”

Saorise felt the inertia shift to the side as the pilot steered the Shuttlepod to starboard, and she gazed out of the corresponding window. The Endeavour appeared, drifting across the window into view as the young ensign began to align the pod for final docking approach.

As her eyes glanced at the nacelles and secondary hull of the Columbia-class starship, Saorise felt the world go number around her….all senses, except for the eyes which were focused so intently on the hull, dulled. She could barely register the Ensign’s nervous voice as he hailed the vessel and started stuttering through the docking protocols with his opposite on the other end.

The Endeavour was majestic…that secondary hull and attaching pylon struts gave her a more…regal, profile then that of the basic flatter-bottomed NX-designs she had been upgraded from. The struts from the nacelles had been extended down to this new cylindrical hull section, giving the forward profile more of a triangle-like shape.

It wasn’t the awe however, that gave Major Saorise Hess-Caidin pause however. It was the sudden awareness of her entire body tightening up, of a deep pressure being felt on all her muscles and nerves…of the quickening pace of her heart.

Sudden prangs of anxiety, fear, dread, raced across her mind and all she could hear was the drum of her heart and release of endorphins to-

….do nothing. There was clarity again, the pressure released, her body relaxed, and her mind became still.

See the flame. See how logic is the basis of all things…see past the emotions and let them pass. You are in control.

She let out a slow breath and her senses returned to normal.

”-we’re on our final approach, Shuttle Control. We’re five-by-five over hear and our alignment is green. Confirm?” The Ensign’s voice returned to Saorise’s full register.

”We’re confirmed, Shuttlepod 2. You may proceed. See you in 5, Control out.” Came a female voice of the comms, as the Ensign finished setting the docking procedures and then glanced over his shoulder towards the Major.

”We’ll be onboard soon, you may want to take your seat as we enter range of the Endeavour’s grav-plating.” He suggested before returning back to his controls.

”Very good.” Saorise said as she finished regaining her sense of calm. “I shall do so. Thank you, Ensign.”

After they were dismissed from the Captain’s ready room, Xiang and Scott started to walk down to where the quartermaster was to get their items. “Well that went well,” She said as she rolled her eyes with a sigh as they walked. She wasn’t happy anymore like she was before they arrived, “I don’t know if I like him, he seems to be opposite of what the Commodore had said.” She said as they continued to walk, “I am almost scared to even meet my team,” she added.

Scott nodded in agreement, somewhat befuddled as to what had just transpired. Campbell certainly didn’t appear to be a typical captain, if one was going by first impressions alone. “The man’s probably got a lot on his plate under the circumstances, but I’m sure if we can show him we can meet his expectations of us, he’ll warm up to us in time…I hope.”

“I hope, you know me I can’t stay ‘serious’ all the time,” Xiang replied with a sigh as they continued to walk, feeling a bit unsure of everything. She only hoped things would get better and things were just because of the war.

Stopping in his tracks mid-stride, Scott reached out and took her by the shoulders, “Listen, It may not be easy, but give it some time. We’ve been through a lot worse than a hard-boiled captain. Let’s see what he’s like in a more casual setting at the reception tonight.” he said, trying to offer her some words of encouragement.

She looked at him and smiled, he always had a way of making her feel better, “You’re right as always.” Xiang said with a chuckle as they arrived and walked in, “Well here we are.” she said as they walked up to the quartermaster. “We’re here to get our patches and additional rank pips,” she said to the officer.

Looking at the two officers, was a bit taken aback. He had not been immediately aware of any new transfers, let alone promotions, but after glancing at their arm patches and confirming their names he pulled up their personnel files in his computer and verified that they indeed were transfers from the USS Poseidon and newly promoted to Lieutenant Commander. “Ah! Welcome aboard and congratulations. Give me a minute to go and grab those items.”

He went to one of the back shelves and when he returned a minute later, he placed two small clamshell cases and two Endeavour patches on the counter.

“Let me get that for you,” Scott said to Xiang, as he grabbed one of the clamshell cases, took the new pip out, and affixed it to her uniform to make sure it was aligned properly.

“Thanks,” she responded as he fixed her pip and patch on her uniform. Once he had finished she did the same thing to him, “this is definitely going to take some getting used to.” She said as she finished and smiled, She stood there for a moment looking around. “I guess we better go check in with our respective departments, the Captain wants those reports at 1800 hours sharp.” She said with a sigh, she wondered what her department would be like. Would they accept her or not?

It was nice to see Xiang coming around and looking more focused after her rough first impression of the captain. Scott returned the smile and nodded in agreement before the two headed out from the quartermaster’s office and went in their own separate directions to meet with their staff.

It had only been a handful of minutes, but to Scott it felt like he had been wandering the halls for hours. In theory every Columbia-class vessel should be the same, but he learned over the years that every one of them had minute differences that made each one unique. He kept looking at his tablet to confirm the location of the armoury, which indicated it was in section fifteen, though he swore up and down it kept changing.

After reaching what seemed like the last door of about a hundred that he had checked along the way, he looked at the identification tag, “Zero-six-dash-one-five-alpha. Armoury. Finally!” he muttered with a slight bit of excitement.

He was about to open the door and head inside, but before he could reach the panel the door slid open and a young blonde woman stepped out almost waking into him, not expecting anyone to be on the other side of the door. She excused herself politely and continued on her way, not even realizing the person she nearly ran over had been a superior officer.

Scott didn’t let it phase him. He continued inside to the now vacant room that was to be his primary place of work when not on the bridge and surveyed his surroundings. To the left, a bank of storage lockers containing phase pistols and replacement power cells. In the center, the torpedo control centre with the upgraded photonic torpedo system. On the right, a large display screen showing tactical sensor data. A desk sat in the corner of that right-hand wall and where Scott proceeded to seat himself.

He activated the terminal on the desk and pulled up the personnel roster corelating it with the duty shift schedule. It was clear that his predecessor chose to go with a four shift rotation. No doubt to cycle personnel and reduce fatigue, which would be beneficial in their current situation. He also noted there was a daily tactical training session with the MACOs. Prudent. Wilcox certainly was on top of her game, he thought.

Continuing to scan the personnel records, he made sure to pay special attention to the specific staff members he’d be closely working with. His assistant was listed as one Lieutenant Alicia Jones. Just as he was pulling up her Starfleet record, the armoury door opened and an ear piercing female voice shouted “Who the hell are you?! What are you doing in here and what are you doing in my seat?”

Scott spun around to face the visibly agitated woman. Her appearance matched that of the woman on his screen. She was clearly his assistant. He wasn’t sure where to begin in order to diffuse the situation, so he started where any logical person would, extended his hand and began with an introduction, “Lieutenant Commander Scott Mitchell. I’m the new chief, just transferred over from the Poseidon.”

The woman stopped dead in her tracks, clearly realizing her behaviour toward a superior officer, but still visibly upset “New chief?” she began, “I was under the impression I was next in line for the position.”

“Will that be a problem Lieutenant?”

“I don’t…I mean no. It shouldn’t be a problem, sir.”

“Good, because I’d like for us to be able to work well together. Starfleet saw it fit to put me here due to my greater experience, but you know this crew better than I do.”

While Alicia understood what Scott was telling her, she was still visibly upset. She knew she would eventually get over it, but there was still some resentment that she had not been considered for the role. Attempting to put the matter behind her for the time being, she instead attempted to offer some assistance to her new boss. “Was there something specific I could help you with Commander?”

“Campbell wants me to have a status report ready for him by eighteen hundred. I was trying to familiarize myself with the department staff and see if there was any place lacking in personnel. Beyond that, what can you tell me about our defensive systems status?” Mitchell asked.

“We’re ship shape and ready on yours or the captain’s orders. We’ve got a full compliment of torpedoes, phase cannons are fully operational and while hull plating is operating at about ninety-five percent efficiency, I put in a request in with engineering yesterday and we expect to have that at one-hundred percent within the hour.”

“That’s good news. I’m sure the captain will appreciate the work you and the team have pulled off until my arrival. Speaking of which, the captain is preparing an informal gathering to introduce the new crew additions. You’ll be attending won’t you? I’d like for you to meet a fiend of mine. She’s the new Chief Engineer. We went through Starfleet training together and both were lucky to be assigned to the Endeavour together.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be there.”

“Please, there’s no need to be so formal. Call me Scott, or if you’d like, my friends call me Sparky.”

Alicia felt it was too soon to be calling her boss by his nickname and opted to use his first name instead. Confirming that Scott no longer required her services, she excused herself to continue with her remaining duties.

Once Alicia had left the Armoury, Scott returned his attention to his computer terminal and began drafting his report for the captain based on the information she had given him.

It was just an ordinary day in engineering with nothing too crazy going on at the moment, Khadijah was busy making sure things continued to run smoothly after their refit. She was also having a conversation with another engineer as she worked, “did you hear the news?” Asked Tim as he looked at her who just continued to work.

“Hear what?” Khadijah replied looking over at him from the console she was working at.

“That Commander Patel has been transferred to another assignment leaving us without a Chief Engineer or Executive Officer,” Tim replied which caused Khadijah to stop what she was doing and turn her whole body towards him.

“What do you mean he’s been transferred?” She asked seeming annoyed that she was just now finding out about this from an Ensign nonetheless.

“Starfleet seems to have transferred him as well as a few other senior members,” he responded back. “It also looks like his replacement has transferred over from the Poseidon a few hours ago.” He added though he didn’t know who it was or anything about the new Chief.

“Who is our new Chief?” Khadijah asked visibly upset that she wasn’t chosen to take over as Chief as she was the next senior-most officer in engineering, the Ensign just shrugged.

“I am not sure, though I am sure we will find out soon enough,” Tim added as he walked off to finish his work.

“Just wonderful,” she replied as she went back to doing what she was working on though she wasn’t happy about the news and it showed. “How dare he not say anything to us or even say goodbye.” She said to no one in particular, she wasn’t sure if she was going to like the new Chief.

After finishing with what she was doing, she went to another part of engineering to start on her next task. Officers were now talking amongst themselves about what was going on as it now seemed that all of the engineers had heard the news and were upset by it. Which they had every right to be upset, Patel had been a part of the Endeavour for a long time and they had a good working relationship with him and now that was changing in a blink of an eye.

“Who do they think they are breaking up a good team? What does the Captain think of all this.” Said one of the engineers to another in frustration.

“I don’t know, but I am sure they had their reasons though as for the Captain I can probably tell he isn’t happy about it. There is nothing he can really do if it’s coming from the top brass.” Replied one of the other engineers as they continued to run a diagnostic on one of the systems that seemed to be having some slight feedback, though nothing too major that would affect other systems.

“Well we don’t have to like it,” said the engineer as he walked off causing the other to just shrug.

Khadijah wasn’t sure what to think, she wasn’t sure who the replacement would be just as the doors to engineering opened and in walked Lieutenant Commander Xiang Meihui. “Looks like our new chief has arrived,” Khadijah whispered to the engineer nearby who looked at the door.

“I believe so,” he replied.

Everyone seemed to have turned their attention towards Xiang who looked around at everyone. Being on the top level she was able to at least speak to everyone, clearing her throat she began to speak.

“Good afternoon everyone, I am Lieutenant Commander Xiang Meihui, and as you have probably heard by now that Commander Patel had been reassigned. I am his replacement as Chief.” She began as the others listened though visibly not happy by the news especially Khadijah. “If you need anything please let me know I am always available,” she finished her little speech which wasn’t much.

The officers just seemed to shrug and went back to their duties as Xiang walked down the stairs until she met up with Khadijah. “I hear you have been second in charge of engineering, can you give me a brief status report of all systems?” Xiang asked looking at her who she could tell wasn’t happy by her arrival.

“Sure thing,” Khadijah replied in annoyance.

“Is there a problem Lieutenant?” Xiang asked looking at her in a more serious manner.

“Yes there is a problem, I have served aboard the Endeavour for a very long time. I have been Patel’s right hand all these years and I get passed over for promotion.” Khadijah replied upset though she was a bit loud than she probably needed to be as others stopped what they were doing to look in their direction.

“I can understand your frustration Lieutenant, I don’t know what is up and why you didn’t get chosen. All I know is I was sent here because of my knowledge and experiences to assist.” She replied looking at her, “I know that I can’t replace Patel and I won’t but all I ask is for a chance.” Xiang replied looking at the woman.

Khadijah looked at her as this was the first time she felt validated about her frustrations, “Thank you,” she replied as she began to give Xiang a report of engineering. Once she was finished, “is there anything else you like to know?” Khadijah asked as she looked at her.

“No, you been very helpful.” Xiang replied with a smile, “Just know I will be relying a lot on you until I get into my grove here. I know change isn’t always easy but I am here for each and every one of you,” she said.

“Thanks,” Khadijah replied as she went back to what she was doing before the chief came in.

Xiang walked off to compile her report to the Captain as well as start working on things that Crawford mentioned still needed to be aligned before she went and got ready for the informal dinner tonight.

OOC:  This is a repost of one of my initial posts introducing the chief of the boat.  I’ll be posting a few more of these over the coming days, just a kind of character re-development and introduction for the benefit of players who’ve joined since then.

“You shouldn’t be walking” Doctor Langstrom said to his most stubborn patient.

“My younger daughter sister both graduate tomorrow, I WILL be there.”

“At least use the chair. You almost lost that leg and even with the best of 22nd century technology that knee is about as structurally sound as a toothpick, with a chip on it.”

“You mentioned some kind of brace” Minna replied.

“Chair is better.”

“Just give me the brace, or I’ll walk without it. Either way, when my little sister and my daughter both get pinned as officers, I’ll be standing right in front of them, pinning the rank to their uniforms without asking them to kneel first.”

“Alright Master Chief, I see there’s no changing your mind.”

With that the man pressed the signal to call the nurse in, and a few minutes later they were unwrapping a rather crude-looking brace. It had two thick pieces of metal, one per side, that went down from mid thigh to the knee, joined into a rotator hinge and then two more similar pieces of metal went down the rest of the way to just above the ankle, with two sets of black leather straps for the thigh and two more for the calf. At knee level attached to the pivot joints was an interior cushioned clamshell contoured to Minna’s knee, or what was left of it. All over the metal bars were various screws and gears where every angle or dimension could be adjusted to a high degree of precision, but resulting in a device that looked more like a medieval torture apparatus than a modern medical support.

“Twenty-second century, or twelfth?” Minna asked.

“We’ll fabricate it in carbon fiber once we get it fully fitted to that debris field you have for a knee and adjust it to what’s left of your range of motion.”

“Fine, Spanish Inquisition it is. Just fit it as close as you can and I’ll bring it back after her ceremony for fine-tuning.”

*** Two Hours Later ***

“Alright Minna, nice and easy, just walk to me” Nurse Sandra Fuller said.

Minna got up to a standing position using mostly her good right leg and the strength of her arms on the bars at her sides, but once fully upright she let go of the bars and gingerly moved her left leg forward using mostly the muscles in her thigh and hip. Leg extended she tried to bend the knee, which was completely immobilized except for about 40 degree of fore-aft swing and absolutely no lateral flex. The knee moved slightly and Nami gently settled her weight on the left foot, shifted forward and expecting the worst, stepped forward with her right.

The pain was excruciating, but the knee did not buckle, her body did not crash to the floor, and before she knew it, it was time to move the left leg for another step.

The torture continued for three hours straight until Minna knew that she could walk across the stage (she hoped) and then back off at the end of the ceremony. She’d cheat and use crutches or a cane before and after the ceremony itself, but she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to cross the stage to pin her little sister’s and daughter’s rank under her own power.

“What’s so important about walking without help?” Nurse Fuller asked.

“My sister Hyeran and my daughter Kyungmi I all lost family in Florida. They both joined Starfleet the day after the Xindi attacked, and I reenlisted at the same time. Both of them had another 18 months to go at the academy, but all third and fourth year cadets were scrambled to ships when the Romulans attacked Sol and both Kyungmi and Hyeran went to the Columbia. I escorted them both aboard their ships myself right before I reported to Endeavor.

“I don’t understand” Fuller said.

“I was on the Xindi weapon and suffered spinal damage during that last battle. I wasn’t supposed to walk again, but I did. I was medically cleared and lateraled to Starfleet proper from the MACOs just three days before the Battle of Sol, and I’d only been walking for about a month before. I walked my sister and my daughter onto their ships then, and now that the battle is over and Starfleet is formally graduating both of them, I’ll walk across the stage and pin on both of their rank insignia, and then they’ll walk with me back to my transport so I can return to Endeavor.”

“I heard Endeavor was pretty badly mauled.”

“Yeah, looked about the same as I did at the end of it, but we got her home. Not many of us left from the original crew, but a new captain will need the old chief of the boat, and he’ll need her standing instead of in a silly chair.”

*** Next Day, Starfleet Academy, San Francisco ***

“Harold Molina” the Admiral called the name and a young man walked across the stage, received his single rank pip and a handshake and then was on his way.

“Finally our last two graduates. We have a guest who would like to do the honors.” As the applause died down the admiral continued speaking. “Master Chief Petty Officer Minna Chang, front and center.”

With that Minna dug her fingernails into her palms and started to walk painfully and awkwardly across the stage, until she arrived in front of the admiral at a position of attention, saluted, and when the salute was returned, dropped her hand and executed an extremely unsteady and painful-looking as well as feeling about face.

“Hyeran Chang” the admiral announced, and then Minna’s 39-year-old baby sister walked up the stage and across, coming to a perfect position of attention in front of the admiral and giving, then getting a salute.

As Admiral Rudolph shook her hand, Minna pinned on the rank insignia. “I guess I’ll have to call you ma’am now, Ensign Chang” Minna said.

“Thank you so much coming Master Chief Petty Officer Chang”, Minna replied with a very broad smile.

“Kyungmi  Kimura” Admiral Rudolph called out and as Minna’s’s sister Hyeran walked off the stage, her 22-year-old daughter approached and repeated the same ritual as Minna pinned her rank.

“I knew you would be here, mother.”

“The entire Romulan fleet couldn’t keep me away, MA’AM” Minna replied as she proudly saluted her daughter, who now outranked her.

*** Two Hours Later, Hanlin’s Pub, San Francisco ***

“Are you really going right back to Endeavor? You can barely walk” Hyeran said.

“We’re invincible, right mother?” Kyungmi said.

“It’s not as bad as after the weapon. I’ll be running laps in no time” Minna replied, adding “and yes, we three are invincible. Kyungmi-ya, are you going back to the Enterprise?”

“I asked staffing if they could post me on Endeavor, with you.”

“That’s not a good idea, a-ga (Korean term for my baby)”.

“Umma (mother), it’s done. I’m assigned as Second Science Officer. I’ll make you proud, and don’t worry, I’ll pull my own weight. I don’t want any special favors.”

“You outrank me, I’ll be the one asking for special favors” Minna replied.

“Yeah right”. “Yes, I’m an officer, but everybody knows better than to mess with the chief of the boat, especially not when she went into Xindi space and returned to tell the tale.”

“Just hold still” Kyungmi said to her mother as she placed the cold packs on either side of her mother’s bare knee.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the main cabin with the rest of the junior officers and crewmen?”

“I am, but your stateroom is more comfortable and you do need to be ready for our arrival” Minna’s daughter replied.

For the next ten minutes while young officers and crew fought over overhead compartment space and squeezed into tight seating, Minna and Kyungmi Chang enjoyed the comforts of the smaller of the transport’s two staterooms, which were reserved for dignitaries, and where none were present, officers ranked Captain (O-6) and above or Master Chiefs (E-9).

As a senior NCO, Nami’s position was not one that most civilians understood. Even the freshest ensign straight from the academy was of a “higher” rank, but everyone understood very clearly that it was the Master Chief who had more power. Even among Master Chiefs, of which some vessels had more than one, the Chief of the Boat was the only one who was part of the command team, and like the First Officer, was often called upon to lead away missions or even to assume command of the ship when necessary.

Kyungmi understood the dynamic better than most for in addition to the Master Chief being more than twice her age, she was, of course, her mother. While Kyungmi had not only been permitted, but encouraged to pursue her own path in the arts and sciences rather than her mother’s military and law enforcement background, she’d still been raised under strict military discipline. As a child, she often complained to her friends that instead of a mother she had a drill sergeant, but when she arrived at Starfleet Academy and found herself suffering almost none of the stress and anxiety of her classmates she was extremely grateful for that same upbringing.

The trip to the repair yard was just over two hours as theirs was the third stop, but Minna and Kyungmi were comfortable. Midway through the voyage a steward even came in offering tea or coffee. The voyage was over soon enough and the two women disembarked last, preferring to enjoy the comfort of the stateroom over fighting a crowd. As they made their way off the platform, however, they were quickly separated by their relative positions as a young crewman completely ignored the junior officer, while scanning in Minna’s orders and then offering to show her to her quarters on the Endeavor and fetch her luggage. Clearly the man didn’t know that Minna had already served as Chief of the Boat under Captain Demitriou, who along with most of Endeavor’s crew was killed at the Battle of Sol.

While two commissioned officers survived, a junior engineer and one of the armory officers, Minna was the only surviving member of the command team and assumed command during the battle after the entire bridge crew was killed.  Minna herself avoided that same fate by only three seconds when Captain Demitriou sent her down to the armory to manually direct the phase canons after the bridge linkage went down. The lift doors closed just as the entire bridge was exposed to the vacuum of space.

Minna accepted the luggage delivery offer, but politely refused the escort and instead walked, or rather limped with her daughter to the main docking umbilical. She’d make sure that her daughter at least had a female roommate with no negative marks for behavior from the academy, and then head up to what had to be a brand new bridge module to report in to the new captain. She knew nothing about Captain Campbell other than that he’d served with distinction at Sol and like her, had assumed command when his captain was taken out of the fight. Captain Paulson, Campbell’s mentor, Minna had met once or twice, but couldn’t claim to know. Still, she understood when a captain took another officer under their wing, they tended to be people with that special something. Captain Dimetriou had it, and Nami hoped that Captain Campbell did too. If he didn’t, she’d make sure to give it to him.

OOC:  Another repost.

“Master Chief, I can’t raise her” Petty Officer Smith said to the chief of the boat.

“What do you mean you can’t raise her. Is her communicator functioning?” Command Master Chief Minna Chang asked the man at the comm station on Endeavor’s bridge.

“She’s just not answering it Master Chief.”

“What is her precise location, right now?”

“One second. She’s on the fourth level of the mining station, its a small building, …, looks like a bar.”

“Send those coordinates to the transporter room and follow me.”

“Yes Master Chief.”

She walked, or rather limped quickly off the bridge and into the lift, with the petty officer right behind her. A few minutes later they were in the transporter room.

“Transport me just outside that building, then standbys, I’ll be calling quickly for evacuation.”

“Yes, Master Chief.”

—- Rory’s Tavern, Berengaria VII Mining Complex, Commercial Sector ——

Minna materialized in what looked liked a city street, but for the fact that it was underground. There were a few bicycles in a rack, and a small truck parked across the “street”, but mostly people, or rather beings of many species just walked, mostly in groups.

Despite the variety of species, they all looked somewhat the same to Nami’s eyes. Whether male or female (the vast majority were male) they were tall, muscular, though walked with something of a shrug, as though they’d been doing hard physical labor for far too many hours in the day. They were also either darkly complected, or for those who weren’t, looked so due to the soot that seemed to permeate everyone and everything. Nami had seen mining communities before, but this one was a whole other level of oppressive and nasty.

She spotted the bar easily enough and would have even had she not known the coordinates. It was the only place with a lot of lights on both inside and outside, and was the only place from which the sound of laughter emanated. Minna limped over quickly, not caring that her clean Starfleet uniform and the fairly crude metal brace on her left leg stuck out just as much as the fact that she was small, pretty and most importantly, clean.

She walked into the bar and her eyes quickly scanned the place, but her daughter wasn’t anywhere to be seen. She proceeded quickly to the bar, but before she could reach it she felt a hand on her shoulder. What happened next would appear to any observer as just a blur of motion. In that blink of an eye, the hand was lifted, the body attached to it spun, bent and pushed, all by Minna’s left hand, while her right hand, also in a blur of motion, pulled the rather beat-up phase pistol from her belt and jammed the business end hard into the man’s face. Said man was also face down on the ground with his right arm twisted at a very unnatural and painful angle and Minna’s undamaged right knee grinding down hard into his back behind and under the left shoulder blade.

“Where is the other one?” She asked quietly.

“The other what?”

“The other Starfleet officer. The younger and prettier one that was right here two-minutes-ago” Minna replied.

“I don’t know, I didn’t seeeaAHHHHHHHHH”

The man screamed as Nami pulled back on his arm.

“You really should tell me, and then take me to her. Your shoulder has only another few millimeters before its dislocated.”

“Okay, okay. They took her to the storage room.”

Minna let go and then stood up. “You’re going to take me to her, or I’ll start shooting off body parts. Should we start with your hands or your feet?”

“I’ll take you, you crazy bitch.”

“Yeah, you will. NOW.”

The man slowly got up and then started walking toward the back of the bar. Minna saw him give some kind of nod to another man who stood up and started approaching, with some sort of mining pick in his hand. Minna’s reaction was instantaneous, shifting the position of her weapon slightly and firing. The red beam made it clear the phase pistol was set to kill, as did the head of the pick axe disintegrating with the direct hit. Man #2 quickly sat back down and man #1 continued toward the back.

“Open it” she said, and the man very wisely complied, revealing a small room with two men beyond the door, a person on the floor in front of them and another man beyond.

Someone had obviously signaled them as they were already turning and had weapons drawn when the door opened. Minna’s thumb engaged the selector on the phase pistol and a fraction of a second later she was shooting. First the man behind the door to the left, hitting him right between the eyes and dropping him to the ground like a sack of wet bricks. The next shot a split second later was at the one furthest into the room behind the prone person who she figured was Kyungmi, and again she hit him right between and with the same result. The other man at the door fired at the same time as Minna’s third shot, at the same man who was shooting at her. She ignored the man who opened the door as her sidestep behind him resulted in door man #2 shooting his own guy while aiming for a moving Minna, and Minna’ own shot hitting its intended target with her usual precision.

The whole “battle” had lasted all of three seconds, and all four of the men were put down and the threat ended. She walked over the prone forms of the stunned men and came upon her daughter, uniform ripped and blood running down her nose. Minna looked down quickly, then calmly pulled her communicator and simply said “Chang to Endeavor, two to transport.”

They materialized barely three minutes after Minna’d gone down and the petty officer looked first at the phase pistol in the Master Chief’s hand, and then at the bloody and sobbing young lieutenant with an obvious family resemblance.

“Give us the room” Minna said plainly and without a word the petty officer was gone, leaving only Minna and her daughter. Even with their privacy, she spoke in Korean rather than Standard.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Minna asked her daughter despite the younger woman technically outranking her mother.

“I was there for an ore sample.”

“An ore sample?”

“That stuff they’re mining, they said it is half the weight and four times the strength of titanium.”

“Who said that?”

“The engineer I met in the processing plant.”

“I didn’t find you in the processing plant.”

“He said it would take about an hour to package a sample and invited me to have a drink while we waited.”

“You didn’t bring backup?”

“I…, I was just thinking how useful that sample could be. With the war and everything, a lighter and stronger metal would…., I’m sorry mother, it won’t happen again.”

“No, it won’t. When off duty you are confined to quarters until further notice.”

“But mother, I…“

“Oh I’m not confining you as your mother. I’m confining you as chief of the boat and as acting chief armory officer, which puts me in charge of security. Maybe you’ll have time to think about what was about to happen to you in that storage room.”

“Yes, Master Chief” the young lieutenant intelligently replied, knowing far better than most not to mess with the chief of the boat.

“Now, get yourself down to sickbay first and have that looked at.”

“Yes, Master Chief” she replied before leaving Minna alone in the transporter room.

And another repost, this one gets Minna back to Endeavor again in the present and with a newly functional (for the most part) knee.  I originally posted it a few months ago, but then things went dark so just assume this was about a week ago.

“I take it the operation was a success?” Commodore Paulsen asked Dr. Klein, the surgeon who had performed the synthetic nerve graft and internal composite bracing to MCPO Chang’s left knee.

“Range of motion will not improve, but she will eventually regain full strength and stability” Klein replied.

“How long until she can return to starship duty?”

“I was planning to clear her later today. If her knee continues to improve, she might even be eligible to return to the MACOs.”

“The MACOs are fine as they are, I need an experienced chief of the boat back on Endeavor” Paulsen said before placing her own towel down on the rack, nodding to the doctor and then jumping into the pool. Once in the water, she took up a launch position at the wall and waited for the veteran NCO to reach the wall.

Minna came to the wall and saw the commodore in the next lane over and came to a stop. She knew the other woman to be an excellent swimmer and expected that if all else was equal, that Paulsen would be faster due to her longer strokes alone. Other than size, most things did appear equal on the surface as the two women were both roughly the same age, and both had clearly maintained an extremely high level of physical fitness, though Minna had more than a few very serious injuries over the years and was barely a week post-op.

“One lap?” Paulsen asked, with Minna hearing the challenge in her voice.

“Ten?” Minna countered, knowing that she had little chance over a short distance, but could possibly make it up with distance.

Paulsen regarded the former MACO for a moment, then nodded. “Doctor, would call start?”

“Ready, set, GO!” Dr. Klein shouted out and the two women launched themselves from the wall and swam at roughly similar paces, with Paulsen pulling slightly ahead. On the third lap the swimmers were both maintaining a steady pace and excellent form, with Paulsen ahead by roughly 3 meters. At six laps the lead had grown to roughly 5 meters and by the end of the eighth lap Paulsen was a full six meters ahead. It was then, with two laps totalling 200 meters remaining that Minna switched gears.

She’d long been an endurance athlete, be it gymnastics as a young girl or martial arts training, yoga and distance distance running as a police officer and later a MACO, it was only until her injuries on the Xindi weapon that she had maintained highly age-competitive skills in all of those sports. Following her injuries in 2154 and roughly midway through her treatment at Walter Reid, Minna switched to swimming as her primary sport as it had similar aerobic benefits, but put far less strain on her knee. Two years of her usual borderline maniacal levels of training later and she was an exceptionally strong swimmer, at least in distance.

As the swimmers rounded the final turn midway through their ninth lap they were barely one meter apart, with Nami’s launch on the turn putting her head even with Paulsen’s thighs. Both swimmers were digging deep into their final reserves and this was where Minna had always excelled. She gave it every ounce of strength she had left, and gradually pulled closer and closer. As it was, Paulsen’s hand touched the wall roughly one half second before Minna’s, with the two swimmers’ heads exactly even, but Paulsen’s longer arm making the difference for the win.

“I – hope – you – didn’t – hold – back – on account – of my – rank” Paulsen said, struggling to get her words out between desperately needed breaths.

“No” Minna replied, “no – honor – in – that” Minna added, also gasping for air.

The two women just took a few moments to regain their breath and composure before climbing out of the pool where the differences between 5’9″ and 5’3″ were far more obvious than they were in the water. There was also the extensive scarring at Minna’s knee and thigh and along the left side of her face, normally hidden by her long hair but clearly visible with said hair tucked in a bathing cap.

“I want to send you back to Endeavor, Command Master Chief. Your skills are needed more on the front lines than back here at a Starbase.”

Minna just nodded. Returning to space had always been her plan, and when she arrived at Starbase One last year to start all of the many required tests for the experimental surgery she’d made no secret of that to the commodore. “Thank you Commodore, while it’s been pleasure serving with you, I belong out there.”

*** Fast Forward One Week, Approaching USS Endeavor, three days Ago current mission ***

“USS Endeavor this is Transport Mustang, I have a transfer for you.”

“Who’ve you got Mustang?” LT Leclerk asked.

“A familiar face. Master Chief MinnaChang.”

“We’re ready to receive her Mustang”.

It had been some time since Major Caidin had been inside a Starfleet Starship Armoury, over 2 years in fact. She had been a passenger on the Poseidon, not a crew-member, and had been still travelling under Division 14’s medical supervision…meaning she hadn’t had the clearance nor opportunity to take a gander at the Poseidon’s critical areas and systems.

The Endeavour had a much larger and extensive on-board armament, just by basic technical specifications anyways…and a good portion of what would have been on the Poseidon had just been resupply and restock for the Endeavour herself.

Which, beyond her curiosity, was what brought the red-haired Martian commando to the Armoury, so soon after her own arrival on board: straight to work, diving head in…as it were.

Interrupted in his report writing by the sound of the opening Armoury door, Scott eyed the next new face of the many that he would encounter this day. The rank on her collar and the fact she was donning a MACO uniform, told him from his recent review of the personnel records that this was the new MACO detachment commander, but he neglected to remember her name. He set down the tablet in his hand and stood up to greet the woman, extending his hand for a handshake “Lieutenant Commander Scott Mitchel. Major…”

“Saorise Hess-Caidin.” The Major replied, glancing at the hand for a moment first before reaching out to shake it, her own hands still donned in the MACO uniform brown leather gloves, “Are you the Chief Armoury Officer, Commander Mitchell?”

“That I am. Recently transferred from the Poseidon where I served for the past year. How may I be of service?”

“I was just transferred over to the Endeavour from the Poseidon myself, actually…though as a passenger, not a crew member.” Saorise commented before returning to the task at hand. “My arrival also coincided with a transfer of gear for the Endeavour’s MACO Detachment…my detachment now, I suppose I should say…I am here to make sure that the shipment has arrived, been accounted, and has then been secured successfully. Standard protocols and all that.”

“Let me take a look” Scott said as he spun around and seated himself back in front of his computer terminal. He pulled up the Armoury inventory and hadn’t seen any new equipment added since their resupply. He then cross-referenced the cargo bay inventories and saw that there had in fact been a shipment received addressed to the major, but had not yet made its way to armoury storage. “It looks like your gear can be found in cargo bay one Major.”

“Since I have you here, I’d also like to point out that Major al-Basir apparently had a daily Armoury/MACO training session set up with Wilcox prior to our arrival. Is that something you wish to continue or did you have something else planned?”

“Joint-training is a fairly good idea. I’ve done something similar on my tours on Starfleet Vessels.” Saorise responded as she walked over to join Scott at the workstation. “…and I am currently running a through scenario ideas through my head for such things. I think not just continuing, but expanding, the program of joint-services training…I am not about to have the MACOs on board do nothing between off-board deployments. We’re here to carry our weigh-”

The Major was suddenly stopped by a pain in her neck which caused her gasp slightly and clutch the area between her left check and upper neck. “Aghhh…”

“Is everything alright Major?”

“Oh, it’s nothing…just a sudden muscle cramp.” Saorise replied, tightening her hand to increase the pressure on the hotspot. “I am sure it’s just a combination of my body adapting to a new set of environmental settings and not getting proper rest on the ride over here.”

“Well then. Might I suggest having the doctor take a look at it just to be safe? A little time to unwind might also do some good. The captain has a gathering planned in a few hours. A chance to meet the crew and it’d be the perfect place to relieve some stress in a non-work related environment.”

Saorise nodded, winced at the neck movement and then sighed. “I am already due to check in with the local physician…Might as well bring it up with them while I am getting the papers and personnel files sorted…I had heard mention of a soirée of sorts when I arrived…though to be completely honest with you, Commander Mitchell, I think a social gathering might actually be stress inducing…I am all game to take an entire raiding force of Nausicaans, single-handedly with one foot tied to my wrist; but trying to generate mindless small talk in room crammed full of other officers without tasks to focus on? That, gives me pause.”

The Major picked up a nearby data-pad and a memory chip, which she held out to the sitting Armoury Chief. “Care to copy the manifest info down and then join me in the Cargo Bay for a physical spot-check inspection? Make sure we don’t have any missing stun grenades or pulse phase rifles running around and all.”

“I’d love to oblige…” Scott began, taking the data-pad and memory chip from major, and inserting the chip into the transfer port next to his monitor “but the captain is expecting my report at eighteen-hundred. If it’s okay with you, I can have my assistant Lieutenant Jones accompany you to the cargo bay.”

“Very well then. No sneak peeks at the MACOs new toys for you, then.” Saorise replied, though her tone did not quite capture the implied playfulness of her words, with her delivery being more cold and ‘matter of factly’.

Once the data was transferred he handed her back the items. “This should be everything you need.”

”Thank you, Commander.” Saorise took the data block and loaded it in to the side port of the pad, bringing up the details as it loaded. She quickly checked to make the contents were correct and then looked back up. “I shall be on my way then…and I suppose, I shall see you at the Captain’s little gathering tonight…do you think they will serve any Vulcan dishes? I have been craving Plomeek soup all day…”

“It has been my pleasure Major. As far as the menu for tonight is concerned, I haven’t been made privy to it but it would not come as a surprise to see it being served. Until tonight then.”

Scott left Saorise to her business and returned his attention back to the computer to finalize and proof-read his report before sending it to the captain.

Deciding to meet the new MACO leader at the docking port, Campbell had taken his husband with him for this meeting. Walking up to the door controls he tapped in the commands and the air pressure cycle ran through its checks to finally disengage the locks. The airlock opened and he stepped back to greet his new MACO leader.

Stepping through the hatch, the new major walked through and straight away Campbell noticed his husband’s body expression stiffen as he stood to attention. Ignoring it for now, Campbell looked at the woman and gave her a slightly warm smile. “Major Caidin, welcome aboard Endeavour. I’m Captain Oliver Campbell, your new commanding officer.”

The new MACO stepped forward and saluted both of the other officers. “Major Saorise M. Hess-Caidin.” She said, before taking out two data pads from the bag slung under her right arm and handing them to each of the officers assembled. “As of receiving these, I have now been transferred for duty to your ship Captain, and have taken command of the MACO detachment on board, Lieutenant.”

“Your transfer orders came out of the blue, major.” Campbell commented. “I hope there isn’t anything else that is going to arrive unexpectedly?”

“It was something out of the blue for myself as well, Captain.” Caidin replied as she straightened her dufflebag again. “The Poseidon should be in the process of beaming over a shipment of new weaponry and gear, courtesy of MACO HQ, right now…though I do not know if that itself, was expected or not.”

Turning to his husband, Campbell repressed a smirk at how formal he had just become. “This is First Lieutenant Fynn Trommler, your deputy.” 

Having already saluted, the Major simply gave the First Lieutenant a nod of acknowledgment.  “Greetings.”

“Welcome aboard ma’am.” Trommler said, still remaining formal. 

“Thank you, Lieutenant” Caidin replied, her tone matching the formality of her new second-in-command.

“Fynn and I are married,” Campbell remarked. “I hope that’s not going to be an issue with you, major?”

“As long as it doesn’t complicate the command structure or operations of the ship and-or the MACO detachment.” She stated, raising her right eyebrow. “…then I have no issue…though I would comment, that being married while in two different organisations of service both attached to the same ship, is a rather novel way of circumventing the usual regulations surrounding fraternisation within the ranks.”

“It works for us and the Endeavour.” Campbell remarked.

“Indeed.” Trommler added.

Campbell looked at the major. “Now the introductions are over and done with. Major, I will let First Lieutenant Trommler show you to your cabin and see the MACO barracks. Unless there’s anything else you need to ask of me now?”

“Not as of yet, though I assume you will have some for me, soon enough.” Saorise responded as she tapped the datapad she handed to the Captain before turning to his husband. “Lieutenant Trommler, please lead the way.”

Looking at his husband, somewhat annoyed, Trommler gestured for the major to follow him. “This way, ma’am.”

And the two MACO officers headed down the corridor with Campbell watching from his spot before moving off. “A great start.” He mumbled to himself quietly.

The informal gathering had started as Campbell had ordered and when the captain arrived, he was pleased to see his crew mingling with one another. The arrival of new members, especially into the new senior staff, was going to be an interesting challenge and one that he would prefer to do without but he couldn’t do much else about it. Stepping in to the mess hall, hand-in-hand with his husband, Campbell was approached by his yeoman immediately.

“Evening sir,” Knight said in a low volume with a smile. “So far everything is going well.”

“Well that’s the idea.” Trommler sarcastically said, the bitterness still in his tone after finding out that he was not going to be acting MACO leader due to a technicality in paperwork.

Campbell shot him a look telling him to reign it in. “Thanks Romeo, now go enjoy yourself.” The captain insisted to executive assistant as they made their way through the almost crowded room. There was some soft jazz music being played across the speakers while everyone was socialising. Their chef and stewards had laid out on a huge spread of food and drink. It was certainly going to help break those tensions in new people getting to know one another. Heading over to the impromptu bar, the two men asked for a glass of amaretto each. As their glasses were poured they were approached by someone.

Antione saw the Captain enter and walked over to him “Hope this is to your satisfaction Captain. I tried my best to make sure it would be welcoming for the whole crew and that it was the best regardless of the small amount of time to organize it all” He smiled as he grabbed a drink from one of the trays being carried around.

“Well done Antione, this is great. Thank you.” Campbell complimented his chief communications officer. He was being genuine at how he had thrown this gathering together in such a short amount of time.

Antione nodded and walked away seeing if someone was alone so he could introduce himself. The ship had been getting quite a few newcomers and he wanted to make them welcome. He saw a man over getting some food so he casually made his way over “I don’t think I have had the pleasure! I am Lieutenant Antione Ricci, Chief Comms Officer among a few other hats that I wear here and there.” He chuckled

Scott hadn’t expected to be approached so soon after arriving to the party. He’d not had a chance to eat since arriving on the Endeavour. He finished placing the appetizers on his plate and set the tongs down before turning his attention to Antione. “Scott Mitchell, Chief Armoury Officer.” he replied.

“Nice to meet you! If there is anything I can do to help your transition onto the ship please let me know.” Antione smiled.

Scott spent the next few minutes making small talk with Antione and further exchanging pleasantries, whilst he nibbled on his appetizers.

Xiang stood by the window, she’s normally a very outgoing and talkative person though at that moment she just stood there looking out the window deep in thought. Not the kind of music that she normally listened to but it had a beat to it.

Arriving a little later than he had intended, Jacob was glad to see that he’d managed to get in before things really got moving.

Whilst the ship had seen its fair share of changes and reassignments over his still relatively brief time aboard, this time it all felt a little different and in his gut, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the war was either on the verge of petering out or kicking into a higher gear  – the doctor certainly knew which he’d prefer.

Forgoing a drink, for the time being, he offered the Captain a brief smile and nod as his sights came to fall upon the lonely figure of the ship’s new Chief Engineer whose acquaintance he was yet to make, “Lieutenant Commander Xiang,” He spoke, doing his best to muster a friendly tone as he approached, “You look awfully contemplative, is everything okay?”

She looked at the Commander that walked up to her, “oh I am fine.” She replied with a smile looking at him, “you must be Commander Wishmore?” Xiang asked hoping to have come prepared by looking at the crew manifest before she arrived.

“That’s right,” Jacob spoke as he considered quitly if his rank was indeed how he wanted to be addressed – a matter he remained undecided on although he quickly moved on from it for the moment, “Well,  I thought I’d extend my welcome aboard. We’ve had quite a turnover but seem to have come out stronger for it!”

After finishing his conversation with Antione, Scott noticed Xiang tucked away by the window and waved to her to make her aware of his presence but not wanting to interrupt her conversation with the man next to her.

She noticed Scott and smiled, she waved him over in her direction. “I like you to meet someone who I have been friends with since our training days.” She said to the Doctor as she waited for Scott to come over.

He approached the two making sure to pay attention to the conversation at hand, waiting for the appropriate moment to chime in “Hey Mei Mei! Glad to see you’ve made it to the party. Mind introducing me to your conversation companion?”

“Oh this is Commander Wishmore our Doctor,” She replied with a smile.

“A pleasure to meet you Doctor. I’ll make sure to stop by sickbay for my required physical.” he said jokingly with a slight chuckle. “Hopefully Xiang hasn’t told you too many horror stories about me?”

“None yet,” Wishmore chuckled, “And it’ll certainly be a pleasant change from having to chase people down. Welcome to Endeavour!”

Xiang smiled, as the two talked. “Looking forward in this new adventure,” Xiang said as they continued to chat.

Major Caidin had given everyone else a wide berth from the moment she walked in, staying to the edges and corners of the room as much as possible, as she nursed her glass of water. Her isolation was self-imposed for the most part, though she had caught her First Lieutenant’s grim look a while ago and thought it better to give him (and therefore also his husband, the Captain) space. Not exactly the most professional move for either of them, but given all that had changed in just a few hours for the both of them, time was definitely needed to process their situation before moving to confront it.

There was only one thing that was causing her to risk breaking this stand-offishness…and that was her stomach and her heightened need for carbs beyond the usual human requirements. She advanced upon the table and it’s spread, flowing around service staff and other officers like water, until she reached her target.

Minna was a late arrival, but as chief of the boat, that was not unusual as while the senior staff was mostly free to attend the gathering, there were always issues below decks that had to be resolved.  When she finally did arrive, she made a point to seek out the MACO commander, as the integration of MACOs on Starfleet ships was also a bit complicated, and as a former MACO herself, she was far more knowledgeable about the issue than most.  That, and as a MACO combat veteran and one who even boarded the Xindi weapon, she often missed being among “her kind”.

“I take it you’re Hex?” Minna said in her Korean-accented standard.

“Hmm, what?” Saorise replied, a bit taken aback by being approached. “Yes?”

“Minna Chang, chief of the boat” Minna replied.

“Ah…Hex was…is…my callsign…I am surprised anyone here would even bother looking it up.” The Major said, regaining her composure. “…much less address me by it, even off-duty…”

Saorise studied the Endeavour’s top NCO for a moment, taking note of the way she carried herself. There was a stark difference in how Starfleet and MACO personnel moved and presented, and Saorise was especially sensitive to body language and demeanour, as until a few months ago, it had meant the difference between life and death.

“You’ve had training, Chief Chang…and not just the usual Starfleet drills either.” Saorise noted with a raised eyebrow. “Martian Redboots? Terran Groundpounders? Titan Icewalkers?”

“MACO, same as you.  Recon sniper from ‘27 to ‘37, was a civilian cop after that, but re-enlisted in ‘54 when the Xindi attacked.  I was one of the platoon sergeants under Major Hayes on Enterprise, almost bought it on the Xindi weapon.  Almost bought it again right here on Endeavour at the battle of Sol.”

“Ah…quite the…storied, career.” The Major replied. The Chief was old enough that distinctions like Redboots, Icewalkers, or Groundpounders didn’t make a difference…she was from a time that the only MACO training block was Earth-side. “I was recruited right out of university myself…trained with all three before getting assigned to colonial engineering and security projects and then two tours on Starfleet detachment duty…”

Major Caidin paused for a moment, as a prang of a heightened emotional response briefly flashed across her mind and body, before it became locked away and dispersed again by a sturdy wall of discipline and control. “I am afraid I was not at the Battle of Sol…when it occurred, I was already in the process of being declared a causality.”

“I read your file and am glad to have you on Endeavour now,” Minna said, communicating everything required with that simple sentence.  “Anyway, I might not be in the MACOs anymore, but I understand most of the issues you are likely to face and am happy to offer whatever assistance I can.”  Minna then added, “I can also still hit a bird in flight with iron sights at three kilometers, so if you ever need an old-school sniper, you know where to look.”

Saorise raised an eyebrow again and nodded in response. “Thank you, Chief. I shall keep that in mind.”

Tali had entered the room slightly after the rest of the guests as she had been talking to her husband when she was surprised with the announcement of the get-together. She wasn’t sure who would be there, but she wore her MACO uniform and tried to mingle with the crew talking to some of the members she knew, but also eyeing a Major she decided she should go say hi.

“Hello Major, I am Second Lieutenant Tali Levy, the ship’s MACO Detachment Assistant Commander, I am guessing that you are going to be joining the ship and taking over the MACO department. If I am wrong though, Sir please forgive me.”

The Major turned around on her heels to face the Second Lieutenant and after a brief glance up and down, during which she remained silent, she responded with a hint of stoicism in her voice. “That is correct, Lieutenant. Major Saorise Hess-Caidin. Under the standard structure for deployments on Starfleet vessels, your role would also place in you command of….the Third Squad, yes?”

“That is correct, Major.” Tali said.

“I think one of the other new arrivals from the Poseidon is assigned to your squad.” Saorise replied, glancing back to the table spread and allowing herself a slight frown: There was no Plomeek Soup. “We will have to have a detachment-wide roll-call soon and briefing soon on all of the notable changes.”

Tali nodded “That sounds like a plan, Sir!” She finished her conversation saluted and went to grab some food.

Josh walked in, late as usual. He picked up a drink and listened to conversations as he walked around the room.

It wasn’t long after the Helmsman that the new XO arrived, walking at her usual break-neck speed of a gait. Leonov spared the room and those gathered a sweeping examination as she grabbed herself a drink, before her gaze settled upon the other newest arrival, and with a decisive air she thudded over towards him. “Lieutenant Randall, isn’t it?” she said, brusque in her identification but with an intensity to her demeanour that suggested she was more interested in skipping over menial pleasantries than was in any way disinterested. “Commander Leonov, XO and Chief Science Officer.”

Randall nodded. “Pleasure to meet you, commander.” He shook her hand.

Leonov shook his hand briskly. “You’re a uniquely interesting person on this ship – in this fleet – Lieutenant. Pilots who’ve flown this new refit are thin on the ground. I’d be fascinated by your thoughts on how Endeavour now handles compared to the NX.” Despite her clipped, quick voice, there was a tilt to her chin which suggested genuine, enthused interest.

“I don’t know if I’m uniquely interesting, here or in the fleet, but thank you for the compliant.” He took a sip of his drink. “The NX was an experiment…Earth’s first warp 4 ship…started with the NX Enterprise. Admiral Archer pushed his ship, sometimes past the redline….got it up to warp 4.5, if I remember correctly. But enough of the history lesson. You asked how this ship handles compared to the NX. This ship is more manoeuvrable, quicker to the helm.” He took another sip. “I can barely touch the controls and the ship will change course. I almost think this ship senses my moves.”

Watching from a distances, the captain noticed his new crew starting to socialise with those who had been with him since the start. “Maybe this will work.” He remarked to his husband from where they stood at the side with their drinks.

Trommler looked around. “It may.” He admitted.

“Fingers crossed then.” Campbell said before he called for everyone’s attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, a moment of your time.” Pausing he waited for everyone to stop their conversations and give him their full attention. “Thank you.” He said with a smile. “I know recent changes were a surprise, but I’d like to take the chance to welcome those new to Endeavour while also raising a glass to those of our former comrades who have moved on to other posts. I am certain that together, where-ever we are, be it here on Endeavour or elsewhere that collectively we will bring a swift end to this war. So, here’s to the next chapter for the crew of Endeavour.”

Everyone raised their glasses and repeated his phrase of “to the next chapter” and returned to enjoying themselves with the gathering.

Josh raised his glass, and added his wish to the others. “To the next chapter.”

ATTENDING PSYCHIATRIC THERAPIST’S NOTATIONS
MEDICAL ANOMALIES AND RECOVERY, DIVISION 14
UNITED EARTH MEDICAL SCIENCES FACILITY 2

SUBJECT: ANOMALOUS PATIENT 1123-NULL: SAORISE MAEDB HESS-CAIDIN

Major Caidin came to us in an extremely state of psychological desolation…while I recognize that is not an official medical term, word fits. Any survivor of a Romulan Attack would suffer trauma…anyone pulled from the cold of space after their ship was destroyed, would be forgiven for having more then a few nervous ticks…any officer pulled out of a room after spending 3 days watching their fellow shipmates slowly die, till only three remained, would most definitely have to deal with stress disorders.

It would be only natural for any of these scenarios to result in severe nerouses as the mind fought to process such horrors.

Major Caidin went through all these at once…and then she was captured by a syndicate of alien slavers and thrown right into a new realm of continued horrific scenes and acts. Endured torture and nightmarish experimental surgical procedures. Had her very DNA ripped apart and put back together again…had dangerous technology never meant for human use, implanted within her body against her will…pumped so full of drugs that there times when she would go for a week without any sense of lucidity…

…all to make her an inhuman killer for the profit and entertainment of a sadistic tormentor.

I hear that some of the drill sergeants at the MACO Basic training camps, will tout their goals as turn their recruits into killing machines…but never like this, and never by the complete loss of one’s humanity…never at the cost of such violations being visited upon the soldier.

I make reference to all this, using such language, to make my point clear.

There are serious ramifications should Major Saorise M Hess-Caidin be put back into the field so soon.

Caidin has indeed been restless as late and has expressed regrets and guilt about not being able to contribute directly to the war effort or the defense of Humanity and the Commonwealth…this is compounded by her existing layers of survivor’s guilt and more then likely, the adrenal effects of those still working implants, driving her towards action, even when none is required.

One could argue that returning to active duty, a military routine…could have therapeutic value as an outlet for such feelings and impulses…I have, in effect, considered this.

I also, flatly discarded it upon review….what Caidin requires is a controlled environment, and during peace time, a MACO assignment, even out in the Colonies, may have been able to provide that…but an active war zone is hardly controlled.

It also removes Caidin from little support structure she has. Her family is on Mars, but contacts her regularly to check in and lend support…and starship medical officers, while I do not besmirch the good work that they do nor their induvidual skill and mastery, are hardly equipped with the same experience and techniques that we in Division 14 have for handling such extreme cases.

I have also heard from less…authoritative…mouths, that suggest that Patient Caidin’s ability to function on a day to day basis in spite of all that trauma sustained, means that she must have incredible will power and  that would be no further horrors that could be unleashed upon her that would have any further effect.

Pardon my momentary lapse in professionalism, as I declare those that think this, to be idiots. Damned idiots.

Caidin’s functionality in the face of further traumatic triggers, is akin to a single candle, trying to stay alight in the middle of a windstorm. Just the slightest of breezes or cross drafts hitting the candle the wrong way, and it’s lights out.

I understand that the order to return her active service is final, however…and that she has accepted those orders without hesitation….so I hereby log my extreme discontent with this situation while I am still her principle therapist: Saorise Maedb Hess-Caidin is not ready for active service and this course of action can only lead to furtherance of tragedy compounded upon tragedy.

Dr. Karen Gatlin, PsyD
Division 14, UEMed

+++++++++++++++++++++

After the inauguration festivities, Saorise had made her way back to the still spartanly-laid quarters that had been assigned to her. Her position and rank had afforded her own quarters, something that wasn’t always available on Starfleet Vessels.

NX, Columbia, and the new Yorktowns she had seen being laid out in the McKinley dry docks when she had left Earth, were all large and “stately” enough for such living comforts…on the older and smaller NUs, NTs, and NPs, accommodating a MACO team meant at the very least, doubling up even for the senior staff…on the smaller of the patrol craft assigned to guard the colonial freight lanes and economic shipping, it had meant occasionally hot-bunking with up to 3 people to a mat in some cases.

Saorise was relieved for the Endeavour’s weight-class allowing for the singular berth. She had spent the last half of the year in medical isolation, often sleeping in a hermetically sealed chamber, under restraints and remote observation, just in case a night terror set her reactive implants off accidentally and triggered a violent relapse into older habits.

This time, the observers were just the usual passive internal sensors one would expect on a Starfleet Vessel. She had actual privacy for the first time in two years, and both the self-control and state of mind to prevent such biologically violent outbursts.

As she reflected on the day, The Major was actually surprised at how smooth things had gone so far. She could faintly remember her torrid emotional state when the reactivation orders came through and the issues she was still having in managing the smorgasbord of alien tech and mismatched spliced genetic code inside her body….but ever since she had left Earth, she had been mostly calm, collected…even stoic, in her mannerisms.

Maybe the therapies had finally kicked in…maybe she was just adapting to the new circumstances and need for basic social awareness…Improvise, Adapt, Overcome as her old drill sergeant had once said during basic.

Or maybe there was something else…something she couldn’t quite put her finger on…like a shadow, just on the periphery of her mind’s eye.

Saorise shook her head and made her way to the small desk and workstation where she had stowed her gear earlier that day…maybe it didn’t matter, as long as whatever it was, kept working.

She unzipped the bag and opened up the nearby storage armoire and began putting her spare clothes, almost all MACO-issued uniforms and variants thereof. She didn’t have much personnel belongings after the destruction of the Shamshir, and hadn’t left Earth with much more either.

Hiding amongst the folded uniforms, however, there were a few personal effects, what little she had acquired over the past year:  A book of Vulcan meditation techniques from the Vulcan healer at Division 14 along with a small portable kaltoh board; A pair of Ushaan-tor hand-blades in the dueling style from the Captain of the Andorian cruiser that had transported her back to Earth after her escape; And a black-plated MACO pulse-phase pistol…a rather recent addition to her belongings, as it had only been given to her by General Casey himself when she had left the care of Division-14 and re-entered the service.

She picked up small attaché case that the pistol was stored in, and opened the biometric locks that kept it secured. The case itself, in addition to holding the pistol, also held the holster, made of actual leather, and three energy cell batteries. The pistol was of show-piece quality, it’s matte-black and silver finish marking it as different from the standard issued matte-grey sidearms of the MACOs. Engraved along the housing for the “barrel” of the weapon was the MACO motto and the personal dedication

“Semper Invictus”

Commissioned by Gen. G. Casey
For Maj. S. Hess-Caidin, 2157

On the flipside, the motto was repeated but instead of the dedication, was a more personal reminder:

You Are Still Yourself

Saorise paused her impromptu weapons check for a moment to let the meaning and intent of those four words sink in. She had taken philosophy as part of her engineering degree, to expand her capacity for thinking critically…and she found a surprising amount of overlap in materials, ideas, and theories explored in both fields of study, with one such overlap being a thought experiment known as the Ship of Theseus that went something like this:

An Ancient Greek naval hero sets out on an adventure across the sea, stopping at each port along the way to repair and replace a portion of their vessel. Upon returning home, every piece of the vessel, from rudder to bow to sail, had been replaced by a new part…the question was: Was the ship itself still the hero’s ship that he set out on? Was the property of “Theseus’s Ship” still applicable to the craft that returned? If not, at which point did the vessel loose access to that trait? When the first plank on the hull had been replaced? When over 50-percent of the vessel had been replaced? When the last piece of original material had been tossed aside in favour of something new?

Saorise had come to ask that of her own being as well in the weeks and months following her escape from the Orion gladiatorial ring known as “The Pit”, when she was finally safe to indulge in matters such as self-analysis and reflection upon what she been through and all that had been done to her…a process that had only really begun when the Andorian Cruiser delivered her back to Earth and into the care of Division-14’s Medical Anomalies staff, a process that had not been a clean nor pretty one in the beginning either, as it fell upon her like a second Xindi Weapon carving up South America.

Over the course of almost two years, she had not just had internal organs and other body parts replaced with implants and prosthetics, but also had entirely new and completely alien alterations done to her…chromosomal RNA alterations to cause her body to heal faster, to ignore otherwise crippling injuries, to push herself beyond the human body’s usual physiological safeties. She had put on several pounds just in increased bone density along, meaning she still surprisingly heavy for her size and appearance. Chemicals had been pumped through her system, she had been implanted at one point with a third lung (which Division-14 had managed to successfully remove with only minor short-term side-effects), and a nanitic colony had been injected into her neural tissue that had constructed hyper-conductive sheeting around most of her nervous system before being extracted again…there were still moments where time seemed to slow down around her: useful in emergencies, annoying when trying to pay attention to a Captain’s speech.

…and that was just a mere handful of examples to the procedures she had been forced to endure…not to mention all the repairs that had been made to her body after suffering injuries, or the scar tissue and damage left over from the surgeries undergone to try and understand and undo all of it.

…this was all in addition to the mental trauma and emotional reckoning that had, until quite recently, dominated all of her mind’s investment of energy.

Was she still herself after all that? What did it even mean to be “herself”?

She sighed and opened the casing of the phase-pistol to insert one of the battery packs, causing the weapon to power up as the casing was then shut close. She switched the settings between stun and kill, checked the sights and safeties, and then cracked the pistol back open again to take the battery pack back out and into it attaché case with it’s other two energetic siblings.

Saorise then closed the pistol back up and pulled the trigger a few times to make sure that it was inert and no residual energy was left in the unloaded system, before securing it back in the case as well, which she placed, opened and on display, next to the workstation monitors at her desk.

A medal, a memento, and a thing to tinker with when she needed to focus on anything other then the existential dread of unanswerable questions.

The MACO Detachment Commander returned to her pack and finished placing the uniforms and under-dress away. She then secured the pair of Andorian duelling blades in a desk drawer, where they would have to stay until she could borrow the tools to fix a secure mounting bracket of sorts to one of the room’s bulkheads. The kaltoh game was placed on the other side of the desk, opposite the monitors from the side-arm case, and the book of meditations was tossed on top of bed, just below the pillows.

She disrobed out of her uniform and down to the two-piece silvery MACO underdress, which refracted in the ambient lighting, giving the appearance of very fine chain mail…on a microfibre level, a comparison that wasn’t actually all that inaccurate.

Saorise took a moment to inspect the heavy scar tissue that marred most of her now bare skin, her mind once again coming back to the Ship of Theseus line of thinking…prior the destruction of the Shamshir, most of what was now scar tissue had been smooth, pale white, and covered in a heavy peppering of freckles courtesy of one of her fathers’ Gaelic ancestry…now it was a mess with the left overs of healing acid burns without a human-compatible dermal regenerator or the almost scale-like patterns from the various times she had experienced electrocution attempts…other scars were from the more traditional particle weapon burns, cuts from bladed weapons, or tearing from the fangs and claws of whatever wild fauna the green-skinned bastards of the Pits had managed to acquire on the Black Market for special “expo matches”.

The Major could feel her heart-rate increase as her line of thinking summoned up rather horrific memories that were still so fresh and detailed in the recollection. There was quickening throughout her body, and she could feel the initial gut-wrench of her enhanced adrenal system starting to churn up a boost of the equivalent of biological NOS on the orders of her fight/flight instinct-

…and then suddenly, stillness…her heart stopped for 3 seconds, then her breathing returned to normal, and her bio-rhythm followed suit through her body, as if her biological systems had gone through a hard reset to factory settings.

She could feel the traumatic thoughts and memories being pushed back in the dark far reaches of her mind, and a voice filled ancient poise and stoic wisdom replaced it, reciting a Vulcan mantra that she was sure she had heard once, but couldn’t quite place.

“You are wading through water, which swirls and crashes around you…let it flow around you…do not let it move you…now calm the tides…still the waters…there is peace…there is order…there is logic…”

Slowly, it was repeated as Saorise let herself fall back to sit on the edge of her bed.

“…there is logic…” she said, closing her eyes and beginning to repeat the mantra outloud.

After five minutes, she stopped and opened her eyes again, turning to look at the Vulcan tome by her pillows. She picked it up and sat cross legged further into the center of the padded bedding, opening to a random page and began reading the curved and linear script of the Vulcan writings.

A book before bed seemed like quite the logical course of action to take at this particular moment.

+++Meanwhile at Starfleet Security Station Pappa-Echo-09, Earth+++

Sukret of Vulcan had secured an old EM-33 patterned training pistol from the security officer on watch, as well as the firing range, with a not inconsiderate amount of diplomatic capital being spent…Sukret was a Healer trained in the his peoples old traditions, not a diplomat or politician by nature…expending such favours was not something he naturally did.

But then again, neither was handling a weapon…any sort of weapon. In fact, the last item of destructive purposes he had held, had been a survival knife forged in glass from the desert sands, during his Kahs-wan rite of passage into maturity, almost two centuries ago. Even when serving as chirurgeon aboard a cruiser during his tours with the High Command, he had forgoed the usual self-defence training on the grounds of the pacifism oaths he had sworn at Mount Selaya.

Yet, the weight and feel of the pistol seemed familiar to him…the tactile give and take of the rubber grip-panels, the curve of the trigger, and the alignment of the sights…there was a feeling of comfort, security, confidence that it evoked within him.

It gave a momentary sense of calm that he had found elusive for most of the past few days…He had found his mental discipline and self-control, becoming very strained as it was taxed constantly by even the smallest of annoyances. The grating idiosyncrasies of his colleagues, the twangs in the South Georgian accent of one of his patients…an argument on medical ethics with Dr. Daniel Brigh, a fairly common daily occurrence between the two, had almost turned violent when Sukret’s emotional impulse control nearly slipped just as, for the briefest of moments, Sukret mentally pictured himself snapping the impudent human’s neck with his bare hands.

The realization of just how close he came to reverting back to the primal savagery of his pre-Surak ancestors, was a disturbing one to say the lease.

If he was in Vulcan space, such an incident might give cause to Sukret taking emergency leave from his duties and visiting a monastery like that on Mount Seleya, or the Sanctury at P’Jem (before it’s destruction at the hands of the High Command’s hubris and the barrage of Andorian plasma weapory, that is)…an emotional purging through meditation or even “facing the inner emotional self” in more extreme cases, would be sought out and a spiritual cleansing through logical discourse would be undertaken.

…Sukret however, was not on Vulcan…and he wished to be secluded from his people in this moment, regardless…such a lapse, was a private matter after all…hence the pistol and the range.

It wasn’t the most logical course of action, Sukret realized, but it just…felt…right.

He set the range up for a stationary target and placed it out at the far side of the half-way point of the range’s length…a bit far for most uses of a side-arm, especially an old EM-33 which faced degradation of the plasma projectile coherency at around that area, which the training pistol would emulate…a piece of trivia that Sukret remembered quite clearly, though he could not remember exactly from where or from whom.

The elderly Vulcan brought the sights of the EM-33 up to eye-level and found his point of aim on the far out holotarget, adjusting for particle drift, and then gently squeezing of a single shot at the target, which hit “centre mass” directly.

He fired again, this time aiming for the head area, a more difficult but more valuable target. The EM-33 trainer let out a burst of fake plasma and Sukret felt the simulated magnetic recoil of the pistol’s acceleration chamber, travel through his arms and into his shoulders.

Another direct hit on target.

The sound of the weapon discharging, the feel of the gentle recoil, the brief tensing of the muscles in the arms and shoulders…it all felt familiar to the pacifist healer…

…he could feel it, right into his chest. His already quite rapid Vulcan heart-rate quickened, the fine hairs on his skin stood up,  and his breathing started to become shallow and rapid.

He pulled the trigger again, this time in a double-tapping burst. Two flashing colours from the target indicated scoring hits on the target’s centre-mass again.

The barrel of the pistol sounded off another staccato of increasingly rapid bursts of fire, each met down the range by a matching series of colour flashes.

Sukret pulled the trigger again and again, his breath matching the increasing rapidity of the shots. His vision narrowed to a tunnel, bluring out everything but the sights and the target down range.

Another burst of fire and Sukret’s breathing became heavier and quicker…and he could feel something primal and aggressive awaken within…each pull of the trigger became tighter, until the tip of his  finger became tinged green from the coppery blood momentarially trapped from circulating by the pressure being applied the trigger.

Sukret could feel his breath seething through gritted teeth now, and as he continued with his unceasing barrage, that seething became a guttural growl. He felt trapped…not by the growing lapse in emotional control, but by something else…something he couldn’t define…just that whatever it was, it meant him ill…this phantom meant him harm…it meant her harm.

The warning lights for low energy cells started to blink on the back of the pistol’s profile, just as Sukret’s growl become a full-on yell of fear and desperate rebellion. The lights went out several rapid squeezes later as Sukret’s savage intensity reached it’s fever pitch, putting a strain on even his own elongated Vulcan lungs, as each pull of the trigger only produced an empty charge indicator. Unleashing his frustrations, Sukret wound up his arm and chucked the trainer pistol down the range like a throwing axe, with all the force and might of a man who had grown up most of his life on a high-gravity world.

It fell short of the target and tumbled across the ground, eventually skitting to a stop just past the holotarget.

As it did, Sukret felt the primal emotions subside, leaving him to regain self control and steady his breathing once more. He was glad there was no one else around to witness such a unprofessional display of violent irrationality…and that as a side benefit, the empty ranges made it easier to retrieve the thrown pistol.

It bore a small dent in the outer casing now, and the trigger seemed a little loose…but otherwise the weapon was not worse for wear.

Training models were often constructed to be more robust and withstand more punishment, for rookie recruits who had no idea what their doing. He reminded himself…though again, he couldn’t remember what he was exactly reminding himself from.

He returned to the firing line and removed the emptied power cell from the EM-33 trainer, then pulling the trigger twice more to ensure there was no residual charge in the system. Next, he checked a nearby display to see tally of his hits. 94% accuracy rating with most shots landing on either the centre mass or headshot killzones…not bad for a complete beginner who never handled any sort of energy weapon in his long life.

All treatments risk side-effects, Sukret reminded himself as he began find his centre once again. Some more expected than others, it seems…

Hiding within the confines of the access tubes were Major Caidin, First Lieutenant Trommler and Second Lieutenant Levy with Lieutenant Commander Meihui and two of her engineers, Lieutenant Crawford and Lieutenant JG Duncan-Leclerc. Currently sat within a junction, the group were just taking a moment to get to grips to what had happened and get their bearings. The MACOs had been defending engineering when the Orions had boarded and were able to pull the engineers into a crawlway access before they were captured.

With a first aid kit in his hands, Trommler was doing his best to patch up Duncan-Leclerc who had been injured during the battle. The young engineer had been hit in the left shoulder by what looked like a whip filled with plasma energy. The others appeared to be ensuring their location was secure.

“So what’s the plan?” Duncan-Leclerc asked, wincing from the pain as Trommler treated him. “The Orions must be pissed that the captain has locked them out of every system.”

“Knowing my husband, I’m sure he doesn’t plan on giving those codes up.” Trommler remarked as he looked over to the chief engineer and his unit commander. “Which means we can’t let them get their hands on Commander Meihui either. If they get a sniff of her, they may think she could override them.”

“But she can’t,” Leclerc explained. “The lockout system is one of the new programs that Starfleet installed as part of the new upgrades for counter-measures against the Romulan tele-presence capturing abilities. Only the captain has those codes.”

“But the commander is the chief engineer.” Trommler remarked. “Orions won’t stop, will they major?”

“Not if there is a profit or advantage to be gained.” Caidin replied as she checked the power remaining in her pistol’s energy pack. Less then 30% remaining, and most of that had just been on suppression bursts to cover the retreat…not great. “If I was an Orion, who else would I think would have those codes or the ability to bypass them?”

“Well along with Khadijah and George here, I’d reckon the only other person they may attempt to use is Lieutenant Ricci, being the communication officer he might be able to crack the codes but it would take some attempt.” Trommler suggested.

“Then we need to ensure they can’t by-pass the captain’s lockouts.” Duncan-Leclerc proposed after Trommler finished fixing him with a giant white plaster over his wound. “We should try and reach the computer and completely disengage the entire network. A bit of sabotage that would slow down their process.”

“We need to get you treated first George.” Trommler reminded him of the injury he had. “Perhaps if sickbay is empty we could head there?”

Xiang looked back at the men, “really think that would be a good idea? I mean that might be one place Orion’s might be.” Xiang replied as she tried to think of something but nothing was coming to mind at the moment as it was all over the place.

”That depends entirely on how effective the Orions have been ship-wide in their take over.” The Major mused, as she began to check on her remaining gear…a single stun grenade and her collapsible stun baton. She silently cursed, regretting using her pulse rifle to block a devasting blow from the Orion who had charged her with a kinetic hammer…not that it would be of much use in the confined spaces of the service tunnels and vent-shafts. “…Orions will target a sickbay for three main reasons. Prisoners, Drugs, and Healing their own. Prisoners are often secured as possible, especially doctors…trained physicians are high-value targets for the slave trade or indenture into the Syndicate.”

Saorise paused, her briefly drifting back to think of all the surgeries and experimentation she had been subjected too…how many of those carrying out the procedures, had been victims themselves?

“Drugs should be self-explanatory.” She continued, snapping back to the present predicament. “Medical supplies are also quite valuable plunder in general….both supplies and slaves can be raided and moved off to more secure locations rather quickly, after which they might leave a single guard to secure the area, but otherwise ignore it….which leaves, tending to their own injured…and that can be a more laborious and time consuming process, which would definitely include multiple Orions in the room.”

“Nevertheless, the Endeavour‘s environmental controls can be accessed from sickbay. As a last resort, we could gas the ship with anaesthetics.” Trommler suggested,  “Last time I checked the good doctor had access to the best. Axonol, neurozine, anaesthazine. We could access the ventilation system and simulate a ship wide biohazard, making the computer think there was a microbiotic contamination on all decks.”

Duncan-Leclerc tried to sit himself up as he supported the lieutenant’s idea, “That could work, it would force all of the ventilation systems to open automatically and allow us to release the gas. Plus the computer encryption lockout wouldn’t affect the environmental controls.”

“The only downside is we end up knocking out the rest of the crew as well,” Trommler said, with a sense of annoyance in his tone. “There’s no way we could deal with the Orion ships with just us six manning the ship.”

Saorise sighed and leaned back against the tube-wall bulkhead. “That is true…Even if we could rig this vessel for that much automation in time…the other Orion ships would just tractor us, and then send in teams with environmental protection…or worse, just blow us up and settle for making a lesser profit off the scrap…they’d have to split it fewer ways as well, what with all the now-dead Orions floating around our wrecked vessel…however…maybe we could get the Orions to vacate the area, rapidly…Commander Xiang, how similar are the systems in this vessel to the original NX-specs?”

Looking at her, “they are similar, the difference would be the warp and impulse engines that are separate with a secondary computer core in the stardrive section to help handle the two engines.” Xiang replied, “and the Columbia is a bit bigger than the NX.” She added looking at her wondering if she even read the specs on the ship before coming on board.

“Could we rig it to ‘fake’ a warp core breach?” The Major asked. “I remember reading the mission logs of the NX-01 during a tactical briefing…they once forced a bunch of enemy combatants to vacate the vessel and the surrounding space, by faking an overload of some key systems and applying some…pyrotechnic theatrics. Bought them time to escape…we’d just have to hit anyone who decided to lollygag around to bring loot or captives with them.”

She looked at her and thought, “it could be possible but do you really think that they can be fooled?” Xiang replied as she thought about what Trommler had said, “back to your suggestion about sleeping gas. They would likely have two guards outside of the cargo bay so no one can try to escape, it would be possible to seal the vents going into the cargo bay before pumping the ship of sleeping gas.” Xiang replied looking back at them, “we can free our crew, and defeat the Orions,” she replied.

Khadijah looked at the chief, “I believe that would work.” She added looking at the others as well.

“Why can’t we do both?” Trommler offered. “If we knock out the Orions, we’ll have more room to simulate a warp core breach.”

Tali had not expected things to take the path that was currently unfolding, but she knew as a MACO to always expect the unexpected. She shook her head at the fact that she didn’t do a better job of defending this ship. She sat and listened to the conversation of the others. “I do believe the gas would be a viable option to neutralize the hold the Orions hold on the ship. The fact of the matter is for any plan to work we will have to split up and go to different areas. I know that is not the most ideal thing, but if we want a chance of getting the Orions off the ship I feel it is the best option we have.”

“So who has the last say on what we do?” Trommler asked, looking at both the major and the chief engineer.

“Technically speaking Lieutenant Commander Meihui holds the senior most position after the captain, Commander Leonov and Doctor Wishmore.” Duncan-Leclerc remarked, wincing from his injuries. “She’s the ship’s third officer in the chain of command.”

She nodded, “very well we will do both.” Xiang replied as she looked at everyone, “once we get to sickbay Major Caidin I’ll need you and your team to keep watch as myself and Lieutenant Crawford work on closing the vents to the cargo bay. Once that is done we will release the gas to the whole ship save for medical.” Xiang replied as she took a breath, “once that is done and we will clear the air, you and your team will head down to the cargo bay to free the remaining crew. Myself, Crawford, and Levy will head down to engineering to secure and begin the simulated warp core breach.” Xiang finished looking at everyone, “Any questions?” She asked.

”Yes. I’d like to take a slight detour on the way to sickbay.” Caidin said. “It’s only a small one, and I can then come at sickbay from an alternate direction, which will allow me to provide cover and a distraction while you exit the vent, should any Green Goons be there.”

Looking at her for a brief moment, “understood.” Xiang replied as she waited for the others to respond.

Trommler just nodded in agreement with the plan. He truly hoped that his husband wouldn’t have any issue with it.

Tali gave a thumbs-up as her mind began working on just what might be the outcome of their plans. She hadn’t said much, but she could tell there were a lot of people chiming in. She would only say something if it was needed.

Before Jerran-Lar left the cargo bay, Petty Officer Knight spoke up. “It’s obvious you want the captain alive, so don’t be foolish, let the doctor take him to sickbay where he can properly treat him.”

Turning on his heel, the tall muscular Orion man stomped over to the young, smaller human man and picked up his waist. “You don’t get to call me foolish, puny human.”

The uncharacteristic surge of courage from Knight continued, “I’m the captain’s yeoman and I can tell you know the fact he has locked out the main computer and primary systems means you are desperate for those codes. He is the only one who has them. None of the rest of us have access to them, so I’m betting you need him otherwise you wouldn’t have left him in his state.”

Sneering at him, Jarren-Lar then changed his expression to one of amusement…or arousement…Knight couldn’t tell at this close proximity. “I like you. When I have finished with your captain, I think you may come my next play thing.” He looked at one of the guards. “Take the captain, their doctor and this pretty little thing to their medical bay.” He looked at Knight and rubbed his hand over his face. “If either of them try anything while they treat their captain, then shoot them.”

The Orion subordinate, who was just as tall and muscular but had more clothing on, simply nodded and gestured with his particle rifle for Wishmore and Knight to pick up Campbell and leave the cargo bay at once.

Campbell, who was barely conscious, looked up at his officers and tried to give them hope with a weak smile. Pushing himself up as they picked him up, his smirk hurt from the cut, fat lip he now bore along with the huge bruised right eye.

“Thanks Romeo.” Campbell coughed up.

“Anytime, sir.” Knight said he placed the captain’s right arm over his shoulders as they began their walk.

Moments later they had arrived in sickbay, the Orion grunt not saying much after they entered. After helping lay the captain down on the main surgical bed, Knight turned to the doctor and asked if Campbell would live. “Will he make it?”

“I don’t know” Jacob responded bluntly as he moved to set various bits of medical equipment to work, “It’s hard to say anything definitive but he isn’t in good shape.”

“Tell me whatever you want me to do to help.” Knight offered.

Nodding at Knight as he strode purposefully across his sickbay, it was simultaneously frustrating and not at all surprising to feel the large hand of their guard drag the doctor away from the drawer he had opened, emitting a low growl as he did so.

Sighing as he pushed passed their captor to remove the hand held scanner and empty hypo that the drawer contained, the Doctor stared the armed Orion square in the eye as he spoke, pointing toward the Captain as he did so “You listen to me! He is dying. I am the only person on this ship capable of stopping that from happening but I cannot do it if you’re going to get in my way.”

Pushing past once again, he grabbed one of the many unoccupied seats that lay strewn around the room after his team’s rapid evacuation and slung it toward the main entrance, “Now if you must be here, fine. but sit down and stay out of my way!”

Watching as the slightly taken aback Orion begrudgingly complied with the Doctor’s request, Jacob turned his attention to the task at hand, “Mister Knight, kindly fetch the Inaprovaline, three vials of Sonambutril, one of Trinephedrine and have three parts Tropolisine to two parts Niaxiline.” Gesturing toward the pharmacy stores, he softened his voice as he addressed the Petty Officer, “Just over there, Romeo.”

Knight just nodded and went off to find the drugs the doctor wanted. He had no idea what the doctor needed all of them for, he just hoped that it would keep the captain alive.

Setting various pieces of machinery to work on the captain, it was immediately clear from the first scan that whilst the captain’s wounds were unpleasant and whilst they would take some time to properly heal, with the proper application of modern medicine they were all relatively straight forward to treat given adequate time and conditions.

Those last two things were luxuries that Wishmore was almost certain would not be afforded to them before the Orions were removed from Endeavour and whilst he didn’t yet know how they would achieve that, he did have a plan in mind to buy enough time to at least get the ship’s Captain on his feet, even if he would have to remain in a state of discomfort for a while longer.

Knight brought back all of the medication as requested and handed them over to Wishmore. “Here you go, sir.”

Taking the various assortment of drugs from the ship’s Yeoman, Wishmore nodded to the young man before speaking quietly, “Stay ready.”

Taking a second to observe the latest readings from the assortment of sensors that the main surgical bed contained, Wishmore frowned as he begun slotting each vial into an empty hypospray. The first couple were for the captain to help along the healing process. In the perfect situation, he’d have liked to keep Captain Campbell in for several days to ensure he was properly fit to return to duty but needs must.

Leaning down toward Endeavour’s CO, Wishmore whispered loud enough only for the man himself to hear, “This isn’t going to feel pleasant, but I promise you’ll be alright.” Taking one deep breath, he applied a second Hypo – the Sonambutri – to the Captain and took a step back, watching as Campbell once more fell unconscious – alarms from every vital sign sensor blaring, “I’m sorry, Romeo. I did my best” Jacob said loudly.

From the corner of his eye, the Doctor could see the Orion guard stand and march toward them, “What happened?” He growled, grabbing Wishmore by the front of his shirt in anger.

“I’m very sorry, his injuries were just too much” Wishmore responded calmly, Touching the green man’s bare shoulder with his right palm as he feigned condolence.

For a moment there was nothing and a fear grew inside Wishmore that his idea was a dud but just a moment later and the Orion released his grip, the man’s expression turning from one of pure aggression to an almost surreally wide smile before the green one stumbled backward and back to his chair. Looking back towards Petty Officer Knight, Wishmore lifted his wrist to show the final concealed hypo containing the concoction of hallucinogen and mood calmer, “Give the Captain a shot of Trinephedrine and he’ll be wide awake. Lock the doors” Jacob instructed Knight as he went about brining Campbell out of the deep sleep he’d been put into.

Nodding to his orders, Knight did as Wishmore commanded (still shocked how devious the doctor could be and the fact that the captain wasn’t dead). After injecting the captain he quickly moved over to the door and scrambled the access codes. “Done, sir.” He took a breath and looked at the Orion guard who was not with it anymore. “What’s next? We should attempt to escape sickbay, surely?” Knight suggested.

Though the doctor’s main priority there and then was treating the captain and ensuring they didn’t loose him.

The bridge crew had been the first secured by the Orions down in the cargo bay, placed under direct guard. From there crew had been dragged in smaller packs as the Orions cleared decks, sections, rooms, and found the crew of the Endeavour wherever they had hidden or held out. It had been all Leonov could do to keep a tally without betraying to the Orions those who were slipping through the cracks, the notable faces who had not been found.

But the state of the captain, dragged in only to be whisked away almost at once to sickbay, had made it more than plain this was no time for patience. Time was even less on their side than they had calculated. And still they were in a cargo bay with a pair of armed Orions by the door to keep watch on them at gunpoint.

She turned back to one of the junior officers. “Talk among yourselves,” she murmured. “Don’t cause a disruption, but give me some cover to speak with the senior staff. By all means, show some distress.” The guards were more likely to pay attention to some distraught captives than those being quiet.

From there, Leonov slipped back through the small crowd with an urgent, summoning glance to Mitchell, Ricci, and Randall, the net of senior staff huddling up with junior officers as a smokescreen for a quiet consultation.

“I had estimated we had some days before the Orions brought us to wherever they’ll doubtless try to sell us. But they seem more reckless with their cargo than I anticipated. We will have to be ready to move before crewmembers begin to die, by their negligence or malice,” she said in a low, level voice, as if giving a report on nothing more interesting than a nebula detected on long-range sensors. “What’s your condition?” she asked of them all, gaze sweeping across the three officers.

“A few bruises, but I’m okay.” replied Randall.

Mitchell, who had been nursing his shoulder due to a taking a disrupter blast when the Orion boarding parties started sweeping the ship, looked at his comrades with a wince of discomfort wishing he had something for the pain, “I’ll be fine, but the Doc is gonna have one more patient added to his list when this is all over.”

A little cut on the arm, but nothing I can’t handle.” Ricci replied in his normal tone.

The Orions had caught them off guard and in the process, Antione had managed to cut his arm on an Orion blade when he was fighting the Orion trying to take him out of his station.

“Very well. We’ll have to make do.” Leonov cast a cautious look back at the guards at the door. “They don’t seem interested in splitting staff up, so I’m curious where some of our people are. I expect that if they were dead, we’d have been shown or told to intimidate us. Wherever Commander Meihui and the MACOs are, let us assume they are doing everything possible to restore control of the ship, but let us not assume they can rescue us. We’ll not get out of here by brute force, but distraction. If a distraction isn’t forthcoming, we’ll have to make one. Thoughts?”

Randall looked at Lenov. “We need to obtain weapons, and find a way to send out a distress call to the Federation.”

“A shame the Major was a little gung-ho to inventory the MACO equipment. We could have had an ample supply right at our fingertips. I reckon feigning an illness is not likely going to allow anyone to get out of here and brought to sickbay. Any chance of getting to a service crawlway?” Mitchell replied.

Antione thought and looked around the room “The Orions aren’t particularly worried about us talking to each other, but what if we would start a fight that they would have to break up. This would give someone the chance to either slip away or we could learn the response patterns of the guards.” Antione felt helpless without his earpiece, but he had to make a suggestion.

“Weapons will be important,” Leonov agreed, “but first we have to get out of here, quite. I think illness is likely out of the question with them already taking the captain to Sickbay. Starting trouble could bring serious ramifications; I’m not letting anyone risk their life so we can maybe learn more about their patterns. Slipping away is an option.”

She looked back at the pair at the doors. “They don’t know much about us, our physiology, our culture,” she mused. “I wonder if we can use that to our advantage.” Her eyes fell on Antione. “Lieutenant, I want you to open a discourse with the guards. Act like you want to cooperate, like you think working with them to keep the crew alive is better than resisting. Present yourself as a go-between and paint me as intransigent if you need. Do what you have to do so that when you start lying to them, they still believe you.” Leonov made it sound like this was part one of a solid plan. In truth, she had only hazy at-best concepts of how to progress from there.

Antione took a deep breath and nodded it wasn’t his first choice, but it would be useful to have a translator to try this idea. He looked at Leonov “I will try my best Commander. I am not so sure how they will respond from the bits of conversation I heard they seem pretty adamant on their plans, but what those plans are I have no idea.” He concluded waiting for the cue to go talk to the Orions.

Leonov then turned to Mitchell and Randall. “Gentlemen, can either of you act worth a damn?”

“I did some acting in Academy plays, commander.” Randall quickly replied. “There should be an access panel in this room, commander, if I can find it, I could crawl out and drop down into a corridor.”

With a slight uneasiness Mitchell added, “I’ve never been one for the performing arts Commander, but I’m sure I can play along. What did you have in mind?”

“I’m still considering our options,” Leonov admitted. “We look for opportunities to exploit a distraction, or if necessary, we make one – fake that fight or fake that illness or any of the old tricks. If Ricci can get close to the guards, make them think he’ll help them keep us in order to keep us safe, that opens up even more options. Maybe we do create a diversion and send Randall down an access panel. But I need to be crystal clear on something.” She stopped and straightened, commanding the attention of each of them with her iron gaze. “If we rush this and get it wrong, I’d expect retribution to bring us back in line. You might all be willing to risk your own necks. But slavers will use our bonds against us. Expect consequences for anything you do to fall on someone else, and act accordingly. Understood?”

Randall and Mitchell both nodded. “Understood.” said Randall.

She nodded briskly. “For now we watch, and Ricci makes himself indispensable to learn what he can. We observe the guards, their patterns and movements, and figure out our best move. There’s no gain to overpowering these two if there are six with rifles right around the corner. But if we -”

The doors slid open, the two Orion guards straightening with, if not military discipline, a wary sort of respect at the next arrival. Leonov had anticipated a return of the hulking brute who had dragged the captain in after his tender ministrations, but this Orion male was small for one of his people. Still tall and powerfully built by human standards, he moved more like he was powered by a coiled spring than brutish strength. Beyond him, at least another two guards on the far side of the door could be seen, and Leonov’s heart sank at the prospect they were on permanent station, not merely escorting the newest arrival.

But then he spoke, and all eyes fell on him. “Newest acquisitions. My name is Nytehr. All you need to call me is ‘sir.’ Who you think you are, what you think your names are, what you think your status or ranks are, are irrelevant as of this moment. You are now the property of the Orion Syndicate, and the only things that matter to me are your obedience and your worth. That is what I am here to ascertain.”

Against her better judgement, Leonov found herself shouldering through the crowd towards the front, mindful of the captain’s condition, mindful of his absence, and painfully aware that it was, at that moment, her responsibility to make herself a target. “You have us contained,” she said in a low, careful voice. “Under gunpoint, after you’ve shown what you can do to our captain. There’s no need to ascertain -”

Nytehr only needed to take one step forward for the rifles to be raised an inch and for Leonov to shut up, jaw tight, heart thudding in her chest. The Orion tilted his chin up as he surveyed her for a moment – then he looked past her as if she were nothing. “Some of you may have useful skills to serve our clients. Some of you will be useful for nothing more than comfort or labour. If you choose to disguise your worth, expect two outcomes: to be unsuccessful and to be disciplined accordingly, or to be successful, and to be categorised as fodder for the targ pens. Defiance brings pain, not freedom. Cooperation brings value and comfort.”

It was inevitable to Mitchell that the crew were about to be put through a series of ‘interrogations’ looking to break each and everyone of them. He was not about to let that happen. Mitchell, Scott. Commander. Service number Sierra-Mike-Seven-Zero-One-Six-Eight-Three-Six-Bravo-Sierra. he kept repeating to himself as he attempted to psych himself up for whatever was to unfold.

Randall looked at the smaller Orion. Yes, he had a solid build. The two larger guards behind him, they were taller. The smaller one…maybe he could be somehow disabled…trip him…grab something large…and bash his head. The odds say that probably some of us in this room might die…

But as Nytehr’s gaze swept across the confined Starfleet officers, visibly contemplating with whom he would begin his assessments, Commander Leonov realised the mission priority for those captured had changed abruptly. They could watch, they could prepare to seize an opportunity, they could even dream of creating one and then making their move. But more pressing than that, more essential if they were ever to get out, Nytehr had made their primary objective while in Orion hands plain:

Survive.

ARCHIVED MESSAGE
FROM DIVISION-14, UEMED
TO DEPARTMENT OF PERSONNEL, MACO HQ

NOTICE: MESSAGE COPIED AND SENT TO UNITED EARTH COMMONWEALTH PENAL SYSTEM, SPECIAL CONTAINMENT DIVISION. REASON: NOT AVAILABLE. SENDER: EXPUNGED

++++++++++

The vents were tight and more then a little claustrophobic, full of sharp corners and pipes that had to be squeezed past. Saorise had a smaller then average frame for most MACOs, and she currently was devoid of most of the usual MACO accoutrements like the hardpack or tonfa, but she still found herself having issues in moving through the vents at any great pace.

It was fortunate that her quarters were on the way to Sickbay, otherwise this little detour of hers would’ve been infeasible by the time parameters that she was racing against.

Granted, that was one of the few things that had been “fortunate” over the past few days.

Orions. Goddamn, Greenskinned, Blackguard, Orions. On her first tour right out of United Earth Medical…It was as if Lady Fate herself was trying to stress test what progress had been made on Saorise’s psychological recovery. She felt her breath shallow and her heart rate spike every time she peered through a vent cover, and caught a glimpse of those pirate thugs…she caught herself reciting various mantras she had been taught over the past year, to regain her focus and control, whispering in Vulcan to herself between breaths strained by the close confines.

A few more tight turns and she found herself at another vent grate…and her silenced her mantras and held her breath as she picked up a pair of voices from the other side. She didn’t have a universal translator on her, but she recognized the alien language they spoke instantly…and it made her grit her teeth in rage.

Orion, of course. Both masculine, one in a deep baritone and the other a mid-tenor.

“…I hear Nethyr is down in with the captives right now, running assessments.” The baritone said, which was answered with a snickering chuckle from the tenor.

“Well, the man has to have his fun, I suppose.” The snickering tenor replied. “I wonder if they are any good domestics amongst this haul. My mistress keeps the environmental controls set to arid conditions…results in a lot of dull dust settling all throughout the ship.”

“Hah.” The baritone let out a low laugh and Saorise could see him, a thickly-built and barrel-chested giant of an Orion, his dark green hair shaved down to a low-cut Mohawk, as he stopped in front of a door marked as a junior officers’ quarters and tried to open it. “…Blast it all to the Void. This one is also sealed tight.”

“The Bosses did say that this vessel’s captain locked down damn near everything down before the initial boarding party managed to secure him and the bridge.”

“…well it’s damned annoying!” The Baritone smashed a powerful closed fist into the door with a loud bang, leaving an actual (small and shallow admidtly) dent in the door “We should’ve had this junk heap stripped down to the bulkheads, sold the scrap to the buyers, and be halfway to a free station, dividing the loot by the now!”

The tenor offered a sigh in response to the violent outburst of frustration, and shrugged the shoulders of his lean and athletic build. “The Raid team has brought in the bag of ‘special tricks’ to get around such things and a little Galvufua-wisp told me that this ship’s captain was last seen being dragged by the interrogators to the local infirmary. Have patience, old friend. We are still on top, this job is still well within the expectation of possibilities.”

As the shorter Orion mentioned Oliver’s current predicament, it snapped Saorise back to the task at hand: Get a new weapon, take back sickbay, let the techs get to work on the Endeavour’s life support functions.

Her quarters were close now, just a bit further down the vent and only a few small turns left. She steadied her breathing and began crawling again, as the Orion pair moved on as well.

++++++++++

The vent exit to her quarters was not as easy to get through as entering the vent in engineering had been. The grate was overall smaller and fastened tighter in place…and she had less room to use her body as leverage to remove it…but finally, she did remove it and then squeezed her body, left arm and shoulder first, through the opening.

This resulted her dropping right down on top of her coffee table, with a loud thud that left her feeling bruised and splayed out over what had been a pile of data pads with training data and combat drill results. Some of them were definitely broken now, judging by the sound of cracking glass and bending metal that resulted from her slowly rolling to her right side and then off the table and down on to the floor with a much softer thud.

Her body ached for a moment…and then suddenly didn’t. The feeling of pain was first numbed and then became a warm, almost pleasant, feeling of soft pressure being applied across her whole musculature.

…one of her implants had been activated. She remembered this one well…a masochistic “switch” as it were, that her former Orion masters had acquired from some far off species that they had only referred to as “those grey-skinned lizards”. It blocked out pain and temporarily crossed the pleasure/pain responses in her nervous system…artificial masochism, as it where.

It was one of the implants she had wanted removed first, but even D14 couldn’t isolate the alien wetware implanted deep in her brain, not without severe risk to her functionality and even life.

Saorise took in a deep breath and began to count silently to herself while slowly exhaling. Control. She needed to regain control…over her body, over her responses, over the implant itself…she needed her mind unclouded by the crossed wires and obfuscating stimuli her body had been tricked into producing.

As the last of the breath was exhaled, Saorise opened her eyes and stared directly up at the open ceiling vent for a few extra seconds before finally picking herself up off the floor.

Regaining her sense of control and urgency, she turned quickly around to her desk and the sidearm hard case on the desk. She activated the biometric locking systems and popped it open, picking up the black pulse-phase pistol with it’s leather holster, and securing it to her hip, opposite of her empty sidearm, which she then drew and ejected the empty power cell.

Picking up the spare cell packs from the hard case, she first reloaded the standard pistol, and then filled out the the empty pockets and pouches on her belt and vest.

Rearmed with working energy weaponry, Saorise glanced over to the other implements of violence on display at her desk. The pair of duelling ushaan-tor “punching blades”, still sitting against her primary work-station monitor…she had completely forgotten over the past few weeks to get Commander Xiang’s engineering department to send someone over to affix the hanging hooks into her wall.

The moment of distraction was suddenly ended by a dull whirring mechanical sound, followed in short order by the whisking of air as her door opened wide open.

“…see, told you the Raid party would bring out the special toys.” Came a voice in a mid-tier tenor that Saorise had heard once before, quite recently. “Anti-magnetic lockbreaker, perfect for all your lootin- What in the BLOWN VOID?”

The tenor’s exclamation came as he looked beyond the now opened door and became aware of the MACO woman…first as she stood behind a desk at the far end of the room, and then as she as vaulted over that desk and lunged across the room to smash her first across his green face. The blow was heavier then the Orion had expected from a human female of that stature, though the Orion really hadn’t had the time to even have expectations for this surprise encounter.

He fell, stunned, to the wayside, and the Major lifted her knee to ready a falling drop kick to finish off the Orion…only instead to feel the sharp impact of the edge of the desk slamming into the lumber section of her spine, as she was propelled backwards into the room by a massive hit. She could feel at least two ribs break in a sickening crack from the blow, and she picked herself back up to face the new assailant.

The massive Orion with a baritone, wielding a one handed bludgeon that hummed with vibrating power: A Kinetic hammer.

Saorise’s eyes first widened and then narrowed to a predator’s gaze that fixated on the Baritone, and her shallow breaths seethed between her lips and gritted teeth. She could feel the control training in her mind, trying to force itself back into place to regain her self-discipline and calm.

…but, now, with her back up against the wall (or desk, in this case), she could feel something else growing, and pushing all that Vulcan meditation and discipline aside. It was an old feeling, one of predatory survival and surging aggression.

Her heart began beating quicker like a rapid drum solo, and Saorise felt the overwhelming sensation of stimuli from throughout her body as some of her remaining implants, once rendered dormant by Division 14’s efforts, began to reactivate. Alien chemicals and synthetic adrenaline flushed through her body and brain…from Saorise’s increasingly more feral perspective, this caused the room to become more colourful and vibrant as her primary senses became enhanced. The world around her seemed to slow down as her reaction time was heightened and her perception of time was altered.

A feeling of invincibility, and sense of thrilling power and the excitement of a falcon falling upon it’s field mouse prey. Her body was producing the drugs that put a gladiator into the perfect frame of mind.

…at this point, all thoughts of logic, all knowledge of the mantras, all sense of self control, was pushed completely away from councious thought. Saorise reached behind her with both hands, and then launched herself off the desk again towards the door, striking forward with the pair of ushaan-tors.

+++++++++

It was only a few minutes later that another Orion patrol arrived to check out the reports of a disturbance in the senior crew section of the Endeavour…and what they found was not a pretty site. Splatter of bloods and the bodies of a least two fellow Orions, dismembered, eviscerated, and mutilated beyond almost all recognition, were strewn about the hallway. Nearby, a door was repeatedly trying to close automatically, only for it stop a half-foot from the end and thne open again as the door struck the burly arm of one of the dead pirates.

“Sweet Vaccumm of Space…” The first patroller exclaimed. “…it’s almost as bad as the Klingon Abbatoir on Khitomer III.”

“I’m going to call this in.” Another patroller stated in response, as he grabbed his communitar and activated it. “…Boss. It’s team 3 here…we’ve found team 5…and also, most definitely a problem.”

‘It’s such a pleasure to meet you, Commander.’ The young officer had bounced to his feet so quickly when she entered the science lab that he might have had a spring under his chair. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you, and a lot about your work -‘

Leonov had barely taken in the sight of the Endeavour’s lab systems, little though they varied from her workspace aboard the Buran, and so an ebullient subordinate was not what she’d expected to deal with in the first half-second of her arrival. ‘Lieutenant. I’m just getting my bearings; stand down before you strain something.’

It was like she’d either cut the strings on a puppet, or kicked a puppy. ‘Right, of course, Commander, of course. You can – I mean, let me know if you need anything…’

She’d only arrived aboard within the last hours, reporting to the captain and tossing her bags into her quarters, and this was her first stop now she was getting down to business. Nevertheless, it did not take long to familiarise herself with a space near-identical to where she had worked for the last year, even with Endeavour’s upgrades. After a mere few minutes she turned to the baby-faced lieutenant. ‘Right. You’re Miller, correct?’

‘Ah, yes, Commander. Lieutenant Dan Miller.’ He’d sat down while she worked and now bounced up anew, hand extended eagerly. ‘I’d be happy to get you up to speed on our latest work; the new sensor array means we’ve got a bevy of more data from our last action and we’re still figuring out how to best integrate our findings with the next tactical appraisal.’

It wasn’t his fault. But she scowled anyway. ‘What’s your area, Miller?’

‘Oh – I’m an astrogeologist by training.’ He sounded surprised she’d asked. ‘But I’ve spent most of my time on Endeavour getting to grips with Romulan defence systems, mostly their hull protections and how they interact with their deflector systems. We’ve got to know how to get past them, after all.’

‘From geology to warfare.’ Leonov set her hands on her hips. ‘Do you enjoy that?’

Now he looked plainly like he didn’t understand. ‘I do what’s needed, I guess, Commander.’

‘Hmph.’ She looked him up and down, but decided to not press the issue. ‘Don’t we all.’

Once the cold overhead lights of the science lab had been softened by the glow of data feeds scrolling across screens, the gleam of the control panels. Now those were gone, leaving Leonov under the stark bulbs of the ship as she was shoved into a chair before the Orion Nytehr. The guards had not flexed their muscles at her yet, not needed to do more than frog-march her, but she was not eager to test how far they would go.

‘Your main computer remains locked out,’ said Nytehr, folding his arms across his chest. ‘Which means I’m going to be reliant on your cooperation to get through this. But we do know enough of your Starfleet for me to know you hold the rank of Commander, which makes you one of the most senior people on this ship. Certainly the most senior in that room.’

Leonov pursed her lips and thought. ‘It’s interesting. We have what some people on Earth think of as a tradition that under interrogation, military officers are supposed to only obligated to answer with their name, rank, and serial number.’

‘I would be delighted,’ said Nytehr, eyebrows raising a half-inch, ‘to know your name, Commander.’

‘It’s interesting because it’s not a tradition. It’s an obligation of the Geneva Convention, human laws that once dictated the rules of warfare. Soldiers were entitled to certain treatments and protection, but that meant they had to identify and confirm themselves as soldiers.’ She tilted her chin up. ‘But the Orion Syndicate aren’t signatories to the Geneva Convention, and as you’ve demonstrated by the state of my captain, there are absolutely no rules here. So you’ll forgive me if I don’t offer a courtesy you haven’t offered me.’

Nytehr sighed. ‘I regret the treatment of your captain. That was not my decision.’

‘Let me guess. You’re different.’

‘I am. I much prefer conversation to brutality. It tells you more about a person.’ He pulled up a chair. ‘As does observation. Which tells me you are not only a commander, but by the blue stripe on your uniform, you work in the scientific or medical services. Your doctor has already been identified, so, scientific it is. I’ll presume that you are not only the Chief Science Officer, but the first officer.’

‘You certainly think you know a lot about Earth Starfleet. If you think I’ll use my supposed powers as first officer to unlock the computer-’

‘I’m not interested in your computer. I’m interested in you, Commander.’ Nytehr pointed at her with a light flourish. ‘A highly-qualified and experienced scientist such as yourself is a very interesting piece of merchandise.’

Leonov raised an eyebrow. ‘If these are your conclusions, then why are we even talking?’

‘Because such potentially valuable goods as you needs fully appraising. I can hardly sell you as a scientist to someone who needs a biologist, when for all I know you’re an expert chemist.’

Now she hesitated. The longer Nytehr spent with her, the less time he would spend with anyone else. But getting herself into a condition like the captain’s wouldn’t help anyone. ‘That does sound like a problem,’ she conceded without an ounce of sympathy.

‘It does.’ Nytehr lifted a data tablet. ‘But you seem to like being coy, Commander. I’ll start with being direct: what is your name?’

‘That’s something you can’t learn from your vaunted skills in observation?’

He gave a faint sigh, but didn’t look up. ‘Something different, then: what is your area of expertise as a science officer?’

‘Starfleet rather likes us to have a well-rounded education.’

‘I see.’ Nytehr stood up, and tapped his tablet. ‘I anticipated something like this.’

At whatever signal he’d sent, the doors slid open for one of the burly guards to drag in the baby-faced figure of Lieutenant Dan Miller. A blow to the head had split his brow, and while the wound didn’t look severe, it had bled enough to leave him a mess.

His eyes widened at the sight of her. ‘Commander!’

‘Lieutenant Miller has been very polite since he was found here in this lab when we took the ship,’ Nytehr drawled. ‘I’m glad you two know each other.’ He rounded on Miller and cocked his head. ‘What’s her name?’

Miller’s gaze flickered to Leonov, but all she had time to do was tighten her jaw, mind racing. That hesitation alone was enough to make Nytehr look to the guard, who swung a fist into Miller’s gut.

Leonov’s chest tightened as Miller bent double with a pained, breathless sound. ‘My name is Commander Katya Leonov, Chief Science Officer and Executive Officer, Endeavour NX-06.’

‘I was talking to Lieutenant Miller,’ said Nytehr in a light voice. ‘But your cooperation is appreciated, Commander Katya Leonov. I’m glad you understand the situation you’re in.’ He turned back to her. ‘Because he is clearly a subordinate, and it’s an acceptable loss for him to decline in value – health issues, that sort of thing – if it results in a more successful appraisal of you, Commander.’ The Orion gave a broad, toothy smile that almost looked sincere. ‘After all, I think you might be the most valuable prize of the whole crew.’

As she froze, he clapped once. ‘I’ll let you consider that here, in Lieutenant Miller’s company, while I begin some other appraisals. We’ll speak soon, Commander.’

He left, the burly guard who’d dragged Miller in remaining, and with a groan Miller sank to the deck, his back to one of the deactivated consoles. And for a long time, all Leonov could do was sit in silence and regard this baby-faced young man who had been nothing but a puppy-like annoyance since she’d met him, and whose life and wellbeing now very clearly lay in her hands.

Taking point to lead the team down the access tube, Trommler carefully pushed the horizontal hatch with both hands and instantly pulled his rifle out so as to aim it down the ladder that led down to sickbay. There was nothing there for him to fire at, but he heard the familiar voices of Doctor Wishmore and Yeoman Knight mumbling something between them. Looking at everyone behind him, Trommler indicated for them to hold while he headed down to scout the area out. 

The moment his feet touched the ladder, he had a clear view of sickbay. Even in its powered down state, there was enough light to determine who was there. First off he saw an Orion, who appeared to be asleep and tied down to one of the bio beds. The MACO’s stomach then sank as he saw one site he had never seen before. Sitting slightly up on the main surgical bed was his husband. Appearing almost dead, the broken body of Oliver Campbell remained almost as still as the Orion guard that had been taken out by the good doctor and his husband’s admin assistant. 

Jumping down, he indicated for the others to follow him and he called over to Wishmore and Knight the moment he saw the sickbay doors were closed and barricaded with various pieces of furniture in front of it. “Jacob, Romeo, what the hell happened?” He asked looking over to where his husband was lying down. 

Knight, who had been sitting on the other side of the room with a phase rifle in his hand, looked up to the MACO and got off from the floor. “Sir, the captain was badly injured by the Orions.”

Relieved to see a few more friendly faces, Jacob ceased working for a moment to address Fynn’s obvious concerns, “He’s going to need some proper treatment once this is all over, ” The doctor spoke with a confidence that the situation’s outcome would be a positive one for the Endeavour crew, “But he’s okay.”

Trommler walked up to his husband, who was barely conscious, and called for him. “Ollie, can you hear me? I’m here, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Nodding slightly, Campbell took several deep breaths. Above him the monitors indicated how weak his lifesigns were. It was obvious that Wishmore had patched up the captain and was now giving him some time to rest. Campbell’s jumpsuit had been pulled down to his hip, while his black undershirt was on the floor in a crumpled mess. His torn bright blue vest was covered in spots of his own blood caused by the various cuts and bruises he had endured by the Orions. Wishmore had placed a few bandages and dressings in certain areas to help with the healing process. “I’m all the better for seeing you Fynn.” Campbell eventually croaked out. Slowly he turned his head to see the rest of those that had been with Trommler. “Are you all okay?”

Xiang nodded, “Trommler here was able to sneak us into the vents.” Xiang replied looking at her Captain, then looking at the Orion. “Is he dead? If not he’s not going to wake up anytime soon right?” She asked as the last thing she wanted was their plan to go south before it even began.

Levy had seen a lot during her time in MACO missions, but nothing prepares you for the scene of the ship captain. She smiled as assuredly as she could “We are ok thanks to Fynn being clever and sneaking us through the ship’s ventilation as Xiang stated.” She paused “What happened?”

“He’s most certainly alive,” Wishmore replied to Xiang, glancing toward their heavily drugged guest, “Although unfortunately I don’t think he’s going to be of much use to us any time soon.”

Knight quickly spoke up, “The doctor put him to the land of nod while we fixed the captain up. Did you encounter any other crew?”

Shaking his head, Trommler answered with an affirmative “no”.  The MACO deputy looked back at his injured husband, “You look like crap, you know!”

Campbell chuckled at the comment. “Thanks, I love you too.” He pushed himself up, “Please tell me we might be in a position to retake back the ship. I’m assuming that’s why you are all here?” He croaked.

Xiang nodded, “Yes Captain, our plan is that from here I will attempt to close all the vents to the cargo bay where the crew is being held.” She began to explain, “we will push sleeping gas through our ventilation system and hopefully knock our guests out. Then while myself, Lieutenant Crawford, and Lieutenant Levy head to engineering to fake a warp core breach the rest will go free the crew from the cargo bay.” Xiang finished explaining their plan, she was hopeful she could pull it off though she still had her reservations she was an engineer she wouldn’t let her ship down.

Levy nodded at the summary “I will make sure the team is secure and safe as we try to pull this off. I do believe we can do it! We have to show the Orions who is boss!” She stated in pure determination.

Wincing still in pain, Campbell nodded as he listened to the plan. “You’ll need my access codes to do all of that.” Looking over at the doctor, Campbell croaked up. “Jacob, can you give me anything else for the pain?”

“Of course,” Wishmore responded to his Captain before swiftly retrieving the required drugs, “This will make you feel a little bit like you’re floating at first but the discomfort will stop for a while too,”

Looking between the doctor and his husband, Trommler couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He knew what his husband was considering. “Oliver, you are in no condition to help with this plan. If anything, we need to find somewhere to secure you away from the Orions to avoid them trying to extract your command codes.”

“Nonsense Fynn, I appreciate your concern but I won’t let my ship or crew suffer. If we can’t get rid of the Orions then I need to initiate the ship’s auto-destruct sequence.” Campbell said with determination as he pushed himself up further.

Placing both hands on his shoulders, Trommler looked at his husband. “You may outrank us all in this room, but you don’t get to pull that crap with your husband. Remember that vow we made, in sickness and in health? I’m not letting you leave Jacob’s care.”

“And what about ’till death do us part?” Campbell argued back with, still sounding weak. “Fynn, we haven’t got time to sit here and have a domestic in front of the crew.”

Looking at everyone else both of them smirked at the situation. Grumbling under his breath as he helped his husband up, Trommler was not happy. “Then I’m not leaving your side.”

“Likewise.” Knight offered. “I go wherever the captain goes.”

“There’ll be no death today,” Wishmore spoke with confidence, “At least not from our end.”

“Thank you gentlemen.” He looked over to his new chief engineer. “Commander, can you tell us how you plan to get the gases released into the vents without access to environmental controls on the bridge?”

Looking at him, “right here in sickbay I can access environmental controls from here and anywhere from this ship. I might not have made a first good impression on you when I arrived sir, but I am damn good at my job sir.” Xiang replied looking at him, “I can get them from that console right there. It will take me a few minutes to get to the ventilation system in the Cargo bay but once that is done I can access the rest in less than a minute, they won’t know what hit them.” She replied looking at them with assurance.

Hoping he was placing his faith in the right place, Campbell just nodded for her to get on with the job.

She nodded to the Captain and looked at Khadijah as if she knew what she was going to say they both walked over to their perspective consoles and began to work, the challenging part was getting the vents closed in the Cargo bay.

Suddenly, one of the vents in the Sickbay ceiling burst down followed in quick order by one Major Saorise Hess-Caidin, who hit the ground at an odd angle with the sickening crack of broken bones. She fell prone almost like a rag doll, and a after a second she began to right herself, grabbing on to a nearby table to steady herself. The Major winced and seethed audibly as she moved, pulling herself up with a small stumble from a leg injury. Her head and uniform were covered in blood…a bit of her own, but most of it visibly Orion.

“…I thought…we were going to wait…” She spoke out between laboured breaths, “…for my signal.”

The Major took a few steps forward, limping from her injuries, before stopping and swaying a bit from side to side. “…going to need…a pick-me-up…and a cleanser…” She managed to breath out. “…I’m coming down, hard.”

…at which point, she fell down forward, crashing onto the deck right in front the Captain.

“Give me a hand,” Wishmore spoke to anyone with a sigh as he moved to get the new arrival onto a bed of her own, his mind briefly beginning to wonder what kind of supplies he was going to be left with by the time their ordeal was over with as he set about attempting to get the Major back on her feet.

Knight assisted Wishmore with the major, while Campbell looked on. Gesturing towards his husband to help him over to Meihui, Trommler slowly and carefully supported his husband over to where the engineer was. Holding his bare chest, Trommler eased his husband into the seat beside the engineer. Seeing that her simulated ship wide biohazard was ready to make the computer think there was a microbiotic contamination on all decks, all she needed was Campbell’s command codes. Tapping them in and giving his voice authorisation, Campbell released the computer lockout and Meihui hit the button to start spreading the knock out gas to all decks except for the areas their crew were in.

The battle to retake Endeavour had started.

It was Christmas Eve. To celebrate the holiday, the captain decided to have a party for the crew in the mess hall.

The chef prepared numerous dishes to feed the guests. Music was to be provided by the computer. An arifical tree was brought out of storage and assembled. Some one in command must had decided that a Christmas tree might be handy.

Everyone was invited…but sadly, that meant that the departments on the ship would be staffed by junior officers, working a 12 hour shift

The following officers were assigned to the bridge:

Petty Officer Thomas Barrow was assigned to comms.

Crewman Mary Crawley would be at the science station.

Crewman Charles Carson would fill in at the tactical station.

And Petty Officer Tom Branson would man the engineering console.

That left the helm and command.

Lieutenant Josh Randall volunteered for those areas.

At 1800 hours, the night shift arrived and took their places. Instead of sitting in the command chair, Randall choose to sit at the helm.

The ship was on course, navigating through an area of space, not far from Earth. Their course led them through an area where no inhabited were located.

For the others, this was the first time that they have had bridge duty. Randall was the helmsman, so he was here daily.

The shift started smoothly. Randall only had to make minor course corrections.

PO Barrow reported that a series of transmissions were being received from Starfleet Command, none marked “urgent”. “Download them to the computer. The captain will review those when he takes command.” Randall ordered.

Later, Crewman Carson reported that a standard scan showed no ships or objects in their area. Randall made a note in the ship’s log.

PO Branson reported that engineering reported that a conduit needed to be replaced in main engineering. Randall noted it in the log.

About 2345 hours, crewman Crawley detected a comet in their area. Starfleet records said that there was no record of this comet.

Randall altered course and headed to the comet. He logged everything in the ship’s log’s.

When they arrived at the comet, it was 3 minutes to midnight. “Attention all hands, this is Lieutenant Randall on the bridge. If you look out the port side, you will see a comet we detected. Merry Christmas.”

‘I hope you’ve used this time to think, Commander.’ The lab doors slid open to admit the Orion Nytehr, his gait casual but controlled, a slink that put her in mind of a jungle predator. ‘Because it’s time you and I got down to business.’

Keeping track of time had been a herculean task in the time she’d been left alone with Miller. It was easy to let minutes become hours, or days become minutes. A less-disciplined mind would not have known up from down by now. ‘This would go more easily,’ she rasped on her second attempt at forming words, ‘if I had some water.’

Nytehr paused in consideration, looking between his two captives and his two guards. Then he shrugged. ‘Remove her restraints,’ he instructed, before pulling a canteen and pressing it into her sluggish hands. ‘We can be civilised about this.’

After all, thought Leonov as she drank. There’s nothing more civilised than a slaver. The water tasted a little acrid but it was still water, rejuvenating her as she stalled for time.

‘You should know my conversations with your comrades have been most productive,’ Nytehr pressed on. ‘They might not all need to become fodder, after all.’

That was such a common interrogator’s tactic, to claim that allies out of sight had already capitulated and thus there was no point in continuing defiance, that she didn’t dignify it with a response. ‘You captured the crew of a ship that travels faster-than-light and is decked out for war. Were you expecting idiots?’

Nytehr gave a thin smile. ‘You’d be surprised at the stupidity and incompetence of many ships’ guards. But I know that doesn’t include you.’

Leonov tilted her head this way and that as he took the flask back. ‘You seem to have drawn plenty of conclusions about me already. Do I need to talk here?’

His smile didn’t fade. Not even as he stalked across the lab to grab Miller by the hair and drag the slouched officer to a kneel. Miller grunted in pain; with his head-wound unattended, he’d been increasingly sluggish. She suspected a concussion. ‘I expect I’ll learn something about you one way or another, Commander Leonov,’ Nytehr said levelly. ‘It might not be your skill, but how much you care for the wellbeing of your subordinates.’

It took a conscious effort to not tense. ‘If you want me to tell you about him, there’s not much to say. I’m sorry to break bad news: he’s only a geologist. I know, it’s possibly the least interesting area of scientific study, yes? Rocks?’

Nytehr gave a gentle scoff. ‘You’re trying to sound like an expert on the topic yourself, Commander. You’d have me believe you have a stone for your heart even about your own people?’ The blow he landed on Miller was not hard, but it was at the same bruise as before, and the scientist gave a low moan as he was knocked back, held firm in the Orion’s grip.

Leonov did not let herself so much as tense her jaw. ‘If you’d rather pummel my subordinates than me,’ she said simply, ‘then don’t let me stop you.’

Nytehr’s gaze clamped on her. He gestured between the guards and Miller, and one of the big Orion soldiers advanced as he tossed Miller to the floor. ‘I don’t know which prospect would impress me more: if you were this good a liar, or this ruthless a survivor.’ Without taking his eyes off Leonov, he snapped his fingers. Behind him, the guard’s boot thudded into Miller’s ribs.

Leonov barely blinked. Even as Miller moaned and curled up in a tight ball, even as the guard landed another kick, she didn’t let her gaze leave Nytehr’s cold, assessing eyes. ‘I’m not here to impress you.’

With a curl of the lip, Nytehr straightened and waved a dismissive hand at the guard, who backed away from the moaning Miller. ‘Then if you are so intent on playing the lone survivor, Commander Leonov, let me make this plain: explain to me your skills, or you will be destined to be sold for targ food.’

‘That would make this a very inefficient use of your time, if you’ve spoken to me twice and let me cook for several hours in between, only for me to become one of your cheapest commodities,’ Leonov pointed out.

‘I understand what you’re doing, Commander. You think that if you waste my time on you, that’s time I’m not spending on your crew.’

‘I thought we’d established I don’t particularly care about them?’

‘That’s true,’ said Nytehr, nodding solemnly. Then his fist cracked into her temple.

Well, thought a detached part of Leonov’s mind, racing away from the pain and fear to observe at a comfortable distance. That was only a matter of time. Somewhere in the background, Miller groaned a sound of protest.

After I did and said nothing for you, kid? Really?

The sound of the impact was probably brief, but to Leonov, the ring it left in its wake echoed on for long, thudding heartbeats. She gripped the side of her chair hard, chest heaving as she tried to steady her breathing, steady her vision. At length she dragged her chin up to finally regard Nytehr again. ‘Maybe,’ she rasped, ‘I’m not delaying for the others. Maybe I’m holding out so you give me the best offer. If you’re sinking all this time in me, after all.’

Nytehr rubbed his knuckles, scowling. ‘Some slaves are mere fodder. Purely for the animals, or to be slaughtered in fighting pits for entertainment. Then there are the fighters who stand a chance. Then there are the pleasure slaves.’

‘Asking me to choose my death isn’t very encouraging.’

‘If you have value, perhaps you can be of use as a domestic slave. Perhaps a labourer, though in your case… I think not.’ He hunkered down so they were of a level height. ‘Tell me of your expertise, and you may become a very valuable slave indeed. A scientist to solve the problems and pursue the weapons research of wealthy, powerful people. I don’t have all the time in the world for these games.’

She ran her tongue along her teeth, and considered her next move carefully. ‘If you’re on a clock,’ Leonov said slowly, ‘I can help you with more than my own talents. You’re right, I’m a high-ranking officer. I know what the others do, too.’

Nytehr tensed. ‘I don’t need you to do me favours.’

‘Really? Because you’ve wasted a lot of time on me so far. Make me the right offer, and when we get to whatever processing facility we’re heading for, I’ll help you walk off this ship with a comprehensive catalogue of the Endeavour’s crew’s abilities.’ He hesitated, and she leaned in. ‘Because from the look in your eyes, I don’t think we have the weeks it’ll take you to break us all down, the progress you’re making. Or not making.’

His fist jerked up and she tensed, anticipating the next blow. But before he could swing, her nostrils twitched, and she tensed in an altogether different manner. ‘Alright!’ Leonov said sharply. ‘Let me tell you what I know.’ If she was right, it was imperative she kept him distracted.

So she looked him dead in the eye, and said, ‘The Orion Syndicate didn’t send multiple ships after the Endeavour simply out of mercantile greed. This took a considerable amount of effort, a considerable commitment of resources. You can’t have just wanted to grab us as slaves to be sold. If that was the case, why did a superior you plainly hate have been allowed to brutalise the captain like he did?’

Nytehr faltered at that, jaw tightening. ‘That’s none of your concern.’

‘If this was just a run for slaves, you’d be calling the shots,’ she continued, fighting to keep her voice level and soft. It meant she had to breathe less. ‘And you wouldn’t have been sent on such a job at all, considering your obvious lack of personal experience in interrogating humans. Or I wouldn’t have succeeded in getting you to leave Miller alone by feigning indifference, or in distracting you so you’ve spent a very long time interrogating me, and not interrogating anyone else.’

‘I don’t…’

‘You’re clearly not an incompetent operation – you did take the ship in record time after all,’ Leonov mused. ‘Which suggests that you planned this with enough resources to back it up. Which suggests the ship itself was the target. Maybe the captain, though that would make his interrogation incredibly unprofessional.’

‘The job will get done,’ Nytehr spat. ‘You’ll maybe even live to see that.’

Then one of the Orion guards gave a sharp sniff. ‘Is that…?’

Leonov’s gut lurched. ‘I’m an astrophysicist,’ she blurted, and Nytehr’s head snapped back to her. ‘I’m a trained pilot. For one month I held the record of the human who’d travelled furthest from Sol. I hold a doctorate in astronomy, I’m one of Starfleet’s top experts in stellar phenomena.

‘And as a scientist, I’m trained to make observations and from them draw a hypothesis, which is how I know you’ve been hired to hand this ship over to someone, then deliver the crew for processing. If you’re running out of time, I’d wager processing isn’t too far. Verex III? Which means your delivery point for the Endeavour, which you’ve hinted I’ll be around to see, must be even closer. Maybe the Ikalian asteroid belt? It’s a good place to hide if you want to wait.’

Nytehr’s lip curled. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he snarled, but she could see him blink faster, see him standing more unsteadily on his feet.

The acrid smell was threatening to fill her nostrils now. ‘You should also know that as an astronaut, I have one essential skill: staying conscious even under adverse conditions.’ And she drew one last, deep breath.

Four seconds later, Nytehr took one staggering step – then toppled over and hit the deck hard, and didn’t move. The guards advanced, confused, only to follow suit moments later.

See? Leonov thought, but didn’t say. She’d recognised the smell of anesthizine gas, and at that point her primary focus had been to keep Nytehr too distracted to realise in case he raised the alarm. Talking hadn’t done her any favours, but she’d been lower to the ground – further from the ventilation systems – and measured her breathing as best she could. Miller was unconscious already, which was unsurprising considering his condition and likely a blessing.

When she’d asked for a drink, they’d removed her restraints and assumed one human watched by two armed guards was not enough of a threat to cuff her again. Lungs burning, head swimming, Leonov lurched from her seat and staggered across the lab.

Her feet were unsteady, her vision swirling before her, and she had to clutch the cabinet on the wall to not collapse. It took almost more concentration than she had to thud in the security code, but then the cabinet door could be yanked open and the rebreather dragged out with it.

Sweet, clean oxygen filled her lungs as she pressed the mask to her face. For what felt like a long time she did nothing but slump against the bulkhead, breathing deeply until the deck stopped rippling under her feet and the ship stopped spinning before her eyes. Only when she could put one foot in front of the other and not feel like she was in danger of passing out did she move.

Restraints were taken from the guards and used to truss up them and Nytehr, while she took one side-arm and placed it thoughtfully near Miller, if he woke up and found himself their captor. Another side-arm and the guard’s rifle, she took for herself, and looked up at the door.

I really hope that was part of a plan, and not a malfunction with the ventilation system, Leonov mused as she headed out. In the corridor, one guard was still conscious, a hand resting against the bulkhead, clearly struggling to stay upright. He whirled towards her, rifle coming up, but a quick blast from her weapon sent him thudding to the floor. He did not rise.

A glance up and down the corridor did not provide answers, only more unconscious Orions. Shouldering her rifle, Leonov squinted.

If I were a jailbreak plan. Where would I be next?

The aching that came from his injuries continued to throb hard, nevertheless Campbell did his best to ignore it as he prepared himself to leave sickbay and take back his ship. Though his uniform was pretty much ripped to shreds, he had pulled the top half down to around his waist and tied the arms of his jumpsuit around his waist. Normally he wouldn’t approve of anyone being in this state, but his determination to retake Endeavour from the Orions override any thoughts he would have on people looking dishevelled (himself included). Fortunately for him, he wasn’t the only one looking unkempt. Everyone else was supporting a scruffy, messy and tousled look. His husband had taken off his MACO jacket and had opted to wear just his brown undershirt along with his MACO cargo trousers with everything else just hanging from his utility belt. Trommler was in an obvious need for a shower and clean uniform; his hair wasn’t in its normal pristine style of being swept to one side. Instead the rugged and uncombed look was now apparent. He wasn’t the only one, Knight, who had unzipped his jumpsuit was looking worse for wear too. 

Handed him a phase pistol from the secret weapons locker, Trommler made sure that Campbell was good with it by a simple expression which resulted in Campbell assuring him he was okay. Turning back to the locker, Trommler took out several stun grenades along with a scanner and a communicator for everyone. During the ship’s recent refit, several of these compartments were placed in certain locations around the ship to aid the crew in case they couldn’t get to the armoury or a listed weapons locker. Strapping the phase pistol onto his hip, he then gestured for Trommler to pass him a phase rifle too. 

“You sure, you’re up for this?” Trommler whispered into Campbell’s ear as he passed the weapon over to his husband. Double checking on him again. “You could stay here with Jacob.”

Appreciating the note of concern from his other half, Campbell shook his head. “Aye, I could but this is too important for me to sit out, plus he is needed to help the rest of the crew. We don’t know what state they are in.” He croaked in his low Scottish accent. Without anyone noticing he planted a quick kiss on Trommler’s cheek and smiled at him afterwards.

Understanding there was no way he could win his argument, Trommler gave up trying and returned with a similar smirk before he went over to the side where he had left his MACO phase rifle. Picking it up, he checked its energy cell and then placed the strap over his neck. 

Not wanting to give an impressive speech to everyone else, for the lack of not having the energy, Campbell just gestured for everyone to move out and get to their targets. By now the knockout gas should have taken out the Orions and given them free rein of the ship, however they needed to act fast to get rid of the Orion escorts that surrounded them. 

Allowing Trommler to lead their three man team, Campbell kept himself between Knight and his husband. Deciding to take a direct route, for time saving purposes, the team moved down the corridors of deck five and found themselves confronted with a number of Orions who had been knocked out by Meihui’s plan. Removing their weapons quickly, just in case any of them came around sooner than expected, the three men continued on their journey but heard the rumbling of what sounded like weapon’s fire around the next bend. 

With a single raised hand, indicating for them to halt, Trommler appeared around the corner to see what was going. Eyes wide open at the scene before him, he saw Commander Leonov standing in the corridor clutching an Orion weapon, aimed at the falling body of one of their captors. 

“Commander,” Trommler shouted out towards her before nodding to Campbell and Knight that the coast was clear for them to proceed. 

Walking beside Trommler, with a limp in his stride, Campbell saw his first officer turn to look at them. She appeared just as exhausted as he felt. Wondering what the hell she was doing out here and not with everyone else, like Meihui had detected on the internal sensors, he slowly approached her. “Number One, you look like shit. Are you okay?” He said, sounding almost breathless as he tried to suppress the pain that was agonising him right now.

Leonov turned, shouldering the rifle as she looked him up and down. “I could say the same about you, Captain,” she pointed out. “I’ve done my own rounds with our captors, but I’m alright.”

“I’m glad the Orions aren’t biased in who they hand out a beating too.” Campbell sarcastically said. “We’ve got teams heading to engineering to fake a warp core breach, while another is heading to the cargo bay to free the rest of the crew. Have you come across anyone else?”

She jerked a head at the nearby door to the science lab. “I was being interrogated in there, along with Miller. The gas – I assume your doing? – took him out, as well as the guards. I’ve trussed them up, but I had to leave him behind with a weapon. But as you can see, I’ve not got much further than that.”

Hearing about Miller, Campbell wasn’t keen on leaving the ensign alone but time was definitely against them. He told Knight to call up Wishmore and to have the doctor come up to see to the ensign after he had freed the others. Turning back to Leonov, “Fancy joining us on our way to the bridge?”

Leonov glanced between him and Knight, and nodded. “If the crew in the cargo bay are being dealt with, it sounds about time to retake the ship.”

“Commander, do you want a phase pistol instead of that?” Trommler asked, indicating at the Orion weapon she was gripping close to her.

She looked down at the rifle, and tossed it to one side. “Certainly. Far more reliable than this unsophisticated device.” Despite her many years as a scientist and pilot, she checked over the offered phase pistol with a comfortable familiarity. She nodded once she was confident, looking down the corridor. “Shall we?”

Entering the bridge via the aft door that led out into the situation room, the team held their weapons out in front of them ready to take on any target that was waiting for them. Surprised somewhat to find the place quiet, the group moved out slowly. Again Trommler in lead at first with Campbell and Leonov following with Knight taking up the rear. Walking pass the situation ‘pool table’, they approached the centre of the room to be confronted by Jerran-Lar, the Orion had beaten the hell out of the captain along with an Orion woman. The two wore gas masks and the moment they saw Campbell, Leonov, Trommler and Knight they both yanked off their protective gear and went to raise their weapons. 

“I wouldn’t bother.” Trommler said as he aimed his MACO phase rifle at both of them, Knight stood next to him holding on to his Starfleet version as well.

“Captain Campbell,” Jerran-Lar sneered. “I see your doctor has got healing hands.”

Campbell, ignoring the jibe from his former captor, took a breath as he kept his phase rifle lifted also aimed at the Orion brute. “I don’t have time for either of you today. We’re taking back the Endeavour.”

The Orion woman, took a few steps forward. Her movement almost wavy and seductive as she presented herself to them. “Do you honestly think you’ll escape our vessels?”

Campbell looked at her. “No, I don’t. That’s why I’ve got my chief engineer right now preparing to overload the warp core. If we’re going down, we’re taking you with us.”

Smirking at the guile of the captain, the Orion woman appeared to be enjoying the moment. “How delicious. We all go out together.” She paused as she took a breath. “I never factored mass-suicide as a human trait.”

“They’re fools, mistress.” Jerran-Lar added.

Turning to look at her, Trommler spoke up. “Mistress?” He questioned. “Does that make you the brains behind this operation?”

“The brains, the beauty.” She listed and stopped to look at Leonov. “And from what I saw of your assessment, I believe you maybe the brains and beauty of this operation as well, Katya.”  Slowly she approached the science officer and continue to speak seductively to her. “Mistress Tifenah, at your service but I believe we’ve not had the pleasure yet, commander.”

Leonov merely arched an eyebrow, the aim of her phase pistol never wavering from Tifenah’s sternum. “I don’t see that happening. My type strictly includes my intellectual equals.”

Giggling somewhat, Tifenah turned her attention to Campbell. “I must say captain, your vessel is something of a desired trophy from those in the top echelons of the Romulan military.”

“And I suppose this operation of yours would give you a handsome profit margin.” Campbell replied.

“Oh certainly.” She moved herself across back to Jerran-Lar. “Jerran, darling,” She said as she twisted her finger tips into the ends of long black straight hair, “this is boring me. Why haven’t you dealt with this?”

Growling somewhat at the humans, the bulky Orion looked at his targets with the same repulse he had on them after boarding the ship. “My pleasure.”

Before he could take an inch, Campbell and Trommler both opened fired with their weapons at the Orion slave master. Multiple hits were required to slow him down, but as he ran for them he smacked Knight to his feet and tackled Campbell to the floor. The captain was knocked out and instantly Trommler leapt to his feet to kick his husband’s attacker in the face before use the butt of his rifle to hit Jerran-Lar in the back of his neck. Not much damage was done so before the Orion could retaliate he pulled out his stun baton, flicked the switch to activate it and started to move quickly, fighting the Orion in close hand to hand combat.

While this action took place Tifenah jumped in to the air, almost somersaulting in the air as she prepared to attack Leonov. The XO took a sharp step back, barely evading the spinning kick, but the Orion had moved fast enough to deny the advantage of either range or the phase pistol. Even as Leonov tried to bring it back to bear, the Orion’s elbow came down on her forearm, knocking off her aim and sending the phase pistol spinning out of her grasp and onto the deck.

“Close,” Tifenah all but purred. “Shall we see how you do with your hands?” Then her palm slammed into Leonov’s solar plexus.

That sent Leonov staggering back, winded, and a follow-up blow to her chin cracked her head around. Only barely did Leonov manage to block the next strike, forearm coming up. The parry knocked Tifenah off-balance enough for Leonov to grab her by the shoulder. “Honestly?” Leonov wheezed, “My head is my best asset.” Then she slammed her forehead into Tifenah’s nose.

There was a dull crack, a rush of dark green blood, and the Orion reeled back with a yelp. She broke free of Leonov’s grasp, and her next swing was, while sluggish, more direct and powerful than the acrobatics of before. That cracked into Leonov’s ribs, eliciting a grunt of pain, but Leonov stepped forward, keeping close enough to dampen the advantages of Tifenah’s swift athleticism. What had started as a graceful, dance-like fight was shifted more to Leonov’s terms of a slugging match. One punch thudded into Tifenah’s gut, the next into her jaw, and even as the air burnt in Leonov’s lungs and the blows she’d taken throbbed in her skull, once she had the advantage, she did not stop striking until her opponent hit the deck.

After being punched in the lip and flying down onto the deck plating, Trommler pushed himself back up to his feet and realised he had dropped his baton. Raising both fists, he prepared for Jerran-Lar to lurch towards him. Taking in one breath, then another, the MACO deputy once again quickly raised his right leg into the air and kicked his opponent into the face and then flipped around to kick with his left leg, landing a blow onto his chest. Before he could react, Trommler fell to the floor and rolled under the Orion. He knew he would have to use brain over brawn, so on his way under he took out his belt of three stun grenades and slapped it on the back of large green topless man. Without having chance to respond to what Trommler did, Jerran-Lar appeared annoyed and frustrated as the grenades all blew up, knocking the giant to the floor. Watching his Goliath to his David fall, Trommler wiped the blood from his cut lip with the back of his left hand as he turned to see Leonov become victorious in her battle with the Orion woman. Instantly she ran over to Campbell who was closer to her, grateful she was helping him up, Trommler went over to Knight and made sure the yeoman was still alive. Knight fluttered his eyes as Trommler pulled the young man up.

“Did we get him?” Knight asked and was happy with Trommler confirming it with a gesture pointing to where Jerran-Lar laid, cold on the deck plating.

Appreciating the help by his new first officer, Campbell smirked at her. “Thank you Number One.” He croaked out as he knew that he probably had another broken rib from that recent knockout.

“I would say ‘any time,’ sir,” Leonov said wryly, “but let’s never do that again.”

“Agreed. We’re going to need to fly the ship away from the Orions the moment they realise the core is about to breach.” Campbell stated. “Do you want to take the helm, commander or shall I?”

“No offence, Captain,” said Leonov, already heading for the helm controls, “but the beatings you’ve taken, you look more in a managerial sort of condition right now.” The former helm officer swung behind the controls, regardless of her own bruises, old and blossoming new alike. “Ready to break this formation on your mark.”

Appreciating her forward thinking, Campbell gestured for his husband to take tactical and for Knight to take science. He went over to where Jerran-Lar laid on the floor, picking up the communications device that was strapped to his hip, Campbell yanked it off him.

“It looks like engineering is about to start the firework party.” Trommler announced as he wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his right hand.

Nodding in response to his husband, Campbell winced as he moved over to sit down in his chair. Taking the communication device he switched it on, hoping that someone on one of the other Orion ships was listening in. “This is Captain Oliver Campbell, commanding officer of the starship Endeavour. We’ve retaken our vessel but we don’t plan on letting any of you take her back or take us prisoners. Your sensors by now should be detecting that our warp core is about to breach, we’re planning to move away from you but if you follow us then you will be caught in the blast radius. I suggest you keep your distance and if any of you are foolish and do survive, then can I suggest that in the future, if you come across anything that bears the insignia of the United Earth Commonwealth, head in the other direction.” He switched the device off and looked down at Leonov. “Commander, take us out, full impulse.”

Just as she was about to engage the impulse engines, Knight spoke up. “Sir, if I’m reading this right, the Orion ships are powering up their warp drives.”

“Onscreen, Romeo.” Campbell commanded as the main screen changed to show the Orion task group moving away at high warp away from them.

Satisfied with their victory, Campbell ordered Leonov to head back in the opposite direction to them at high warp and find a nice place to hid the ship while they undertook repairs.

Endeavour was finally free.

Once it was clear and the gas was cleared from the ship she looked at Khadijah, Tali as well as to Captain Campbell. “We need to make a quick run to engineering, we only have so long before they begin to wake up for this to work.” Xiang replied looking at them, “Khadijah once we get there we will get to work on preparing for the fake warp core breach, Levy we need you to be on the lookout for any trouble.” Xiang said looking at both officers.

“Understood sir,” Khadijah replied.

Levy looked at Xiang and nodded. Levy knew her job, but she never questioned being told. “Understood, Sir.”

Turning to the Captain, “Once we are ready I will give you notice.” Xian said as she knew the other teams would be heading to the cargo bay to rescue the rest of the crew.

Campbell, who was getting ready to storm the bridge with his husband, Knight, and Wishmore so they could release control of the ship from there, just nodded to his chief engineer. “No unnecessary risks, commander.” He reminded her as he winced in some pain. Though Doctor Wishmore had given him as much pain relief as he could, he still ached from the injuries sustained from his torturing from earlier.

With Levy leading the way they made their way toward engineering grabbing phasers on the way. They were finding knocked-out Orions lining the corridors as they walked quickly to their destination. Once they arrived Levy made sure that engineering was secure, once it was they entered, she and Khadijah began their work. Levy stayed by the door to make sure that no one entered to spoil their plans.

She gave Khadijah specific instructions on what to do to make this work without triggering a real warp core breach, while she worked at the warp core. Things were lining up and everything was beginning to fall into place for them to fake a warp core breach.

“Everything is in place,” Khadijah said looking up from the console she was working at.

“Perfect,” she replied as she pressed the comm button to notify the Captain that they were ready to begin. Once she got confirmation from the Captain to go ahead and start the breach she nodded towards Khadijah. Tapping the console the fake warp core began, she kept an eye on things to make sure things went as planned and nothing went sideways. After a while, she was informed that the ship was finally free from the Orions and they left the area.

Shutting it down the ship had moved out of the area to find a place to begin repairs, taking a sigh of relief she knew that she and her team would have their work cut out for them in the many repairs they would have to complete to get this ship ready again.

Josh just got off duty, after pulling a double shift. Normally he would have just striped down and go to bed, but he was still full of energy.

On the wall of his quarters was a full-scale diagram of the bridge’s helm station. He walked over to the diagram and looked at it. He had already memorized the control’s and he could pilot the ship blind fold. But now he was trying to trace the main power circuits that powered the helm. In case of a power failure, he wanted to be able to tap into another power source. He starred at the diagram for an hour, and with his finger, traced every circuit to its power source, all 100 of them.

He was going to check with engineering, but he thought he found a circuit he could tap into.

When he was done with that, he moved to his computer. He had programmed a helm situation scenario. He instructed the computer to create random scenarios for him..this was practice for him…he wanted to get better.

Josh had the computer run for 4 hours, throwing all possible scenarios at him.

A couple he failed…destroying the ship..but most of them he saved the ship.

Exhausted after this, he dragged himself to his bed, stripped down and crawl into bed.