Captain Jonathan Bastin sat behind his ready room desk, PaDD in hand as he listened to the brief that he was currently a part of. He and several other Captains had been contacted simultaneously, something that generally didn’t happen unless there was a large-scale incident that needed to be handled immediately.

“The Paulson Nebula is about to experience a massive surge in ion storm activity that will likely render a great many worlds temporarily uninhabitable. Our primary focus has been evacuating the worlds that cannot be protected, providing the means for those who can shelter on their worlds to do so, and investigating worlds that have gone silent during the upsurge in storm activity,” the Admiral giving the brief explained.

The man continued to speak, though Bastin wasn’t paying nearly as much attention to what was being said as he was to the information displayed in front of him. His screen held his unique mission brief, something that wasn’t going to be touched upon very deeply by the live communication going on in front of him. The details of his ship’s mission seemed to be filled with speculation rather than actual facts.

The first article of speculation was that the colony in the Lamda Puppis system had gone dark thanks to a surge in raider activity in nearby areas. While highly possible given the proximity to Romulan space and the troubles that had been a nearly everyday event in that part of the quadrant, the colony itself had never sent any messages or requests for aid. It had also been relatively safe compared to some of the neighboring systems during the ion storm surges. It seemed that the lack of information was driving the investigation more than concrete facts. It was because of this that Bastin suspected the Hydra was being dispatched to the planet, on the off chance there actually was someone there causing trouble and suppressing information through force.

Bastin looked up from the PaDD just in time to catch the tail end of the Admiral’s remarks before the screen went black. He hadn’t expected there to be a question and answer session, since the orders hadn’t actually been part of the brief. What he did need to do now that he had finished reading the particulars that were expected of his crew was to let them know what they were being sent to do. A quick second of tapping on his terminal command console later, the Senior Staff had been notified that there would be a staff meeting in a few minutes.

Bastin pushed himself out of his chair and rounded the desk, heading through the bridge on his way to the conference room. Several of the officers who had been notified of the meeting were already walking in as Bastin made his way toward the door. A few nods to his crew as he rounded the table brought him to his seat where he only had to wait a few scant moments for everyone who hadn’t been on the bridge to arrive and take their places.

“We’re being pulled away from Cardassian space to investigate a colony going dark in the Paulson Nebula,” Capt. Bastin said as he started the staff meeting. As he relayed that small tidbit of information, he brought up the astrometric data on the holographic display embedded in the table.

“According to the report I was given, the colony has gone dark and is in the direct path of the ion storms that have been spreading across the nebula of late. Currently the route to Lambda Puppis is traversable, but that could change at any point between now and when we arrive at the colony,” Bastin explained.

“Is this to be a rescue mission then, Captain?” Lt. T’Rel asked from his seat at the table.

“Oddly enough, no. From what I’ve read in the brief, we’re only supposed to ascertain why the colony went silent. It is suspected that a raiding party might have hit the colony and are keeping the inhabitants locked down so word doesn’t get out that they are under siege,” the Captain explained.

“That doesn’t seem very likely,” Lt. Nieru interjected, “There’s usually at least some chatter from a planet even when they later go silent in a siege situation. Do we know what the last communication from the surface was?”

“The last transmissions were all routine. Nothing about them indicated anything was amiss. That’s the part of Starfleet’s theory that doesn’t sit right with me. If they went dark because of an attack, something would have tipped us off well before now,” Bastin remarked.

“How many people are we dealing with on the surface?” Cmdr. Yuri inquired.

Bastin tapped a command key and brought up the colony’s statistical date, “Looks like there’s only a few hundred people, half of which are Romulan refugees. The colony only started two years ago, which means it’s still very rudimentary in its design and facilities. It’s only just their inaugural city, as a matter of fact.”

“What do we do if we find that there’s nothing wrong with them?” Lt. Cmdr. Brak asked as he folded his arms across his chest.

“At a minimum, we would need to reestablish contact with the Federation. It very well just might be an equipment malfunction and something easily fixed. If that’s the case, we should be able to handle that and be on our way,” the Captain responded.

“That doesn’t mean we can go in thinking this will be some stroll through the neighborhood,” Yuri pointed out, “We should still be on alert in case there actually are raiders terrorizing the colonists.”

“That’s a fair assessment,” Bastin nodded, “Lt. Nieru, keep your staff on alert and make sure they are ready in case we need to go in with weapons hot.”

“Of course, Captain,” the Saurian nodded.

“I think our time would be better spent cooking up countermeasures for these storms. If these things are bad enough that we’re being sent to check on a colony in the middle of it, we should be thinkin’ about our own survival too,” the Tellarite engineer commented.

Lt. T’Rel nodded at the statement, “I agree. Should we encounter a storm of significant magnitude, our ship may not be able to withstand it without preparations already made in advance.”

“Noted. I’ll leave that to you two to figure out. I’ll forward you both the data I was provided on the storm’s make-up and intensity in the area around Lambda Puppis so you can make informed preparations,” the Captain said, entering a series of commands on his small console.

“Should I have Sickbay prepare for the possibility of having to render mass casualty aid on the surface?” Lt. Cmdr. Tal asked.

“We can never be too ready, so go ahead and make arrangements, doctor,” Bastin nodded to the Bajoran.

Capt. Bastin looked around the room at each person, looking to see if anyone had any follow-up comments or concerns. Each person his gaze fell on just nodded, indicating that they were satisfied with their marching orders and had little else to add. After his quick silent survey was complete, he dismissed his crew to go about their individual tasks.

Deep within the USS Hydra, Lieutenant Commander Brak and Lieutenant T’Rel each stood on opposing sides of the Master Engineering Console that sat in the center of the Main Engineering compartment. The pair were engrossed in reviewing data they had been forwarded regarding the Paulson Nebula’s ion storm activity, as well as the proposed methods of mitigating the damage the storms were noted to cause on unprepared vessels. The ship’s computer had been running simulations for well over an hour, and few of them showed much in the way of promise.

“I don’t like this,” Brak grumbled from his side of the console, “Most of the projections say we’re nothing more than an iron rod waiting for a lightning strike. Half the viable attenuations of the shields just make it worse rather than better.”

“Indeed,” T’Rel agreed, his brow furrowed slightly as he considered the information the computer had provided, “It would appear that our ship’s capabilities in combat have a severe drawback when it comes to weathering an ion storm surge. We would very likely need to completely reconfigure the shield generators to operate at a much lower output frequency to avoid them assisting in our destruction.”

“We don’t have that kind of time. We’re already halfway to the Nebula as it is, and once we do arrive, depending on what we find there, having weak shields will do us more harm than good in a fight,” the Tellarite pointed out with a sour look on his face.

“Our situation is indeed a tenuous one, given that we have very little information from which to draw from and rely upon. I have been able to confirm that other colonies have fallen out of communication with the Federation during this surge in storm activity. It may be that the level of development on the surface has yet to reach a point where their communications network is stable enough to transmit without interference,” the Vulcan pointed out.

“Would seem a whole lot more likely than us finding ourselves in the middle of a conflict,” Brak grunted.

“Perhaps our focus should be on developing ways to assist the colonists in protecting what they have already built on the surface from the storm’s incursion. I recall that there were devices that had been designed with that in mind,” T’Rel remarked, pulling up the files in question.

“What about contingency plans for us? Helping the people on the ground is all well and good, but it won’t do anyone any favors if we’re the unlucky ones that get hit and need to be saved,” the Tellarite remarked soberly.

“That would not be optimal, no…” the Vulcan said, withdrawing into his thoughts as he contemplated how best to tackle the issue at hand.

“How about we split the difference? You take a couple of my boys with you and work on setting up these dampeners or whatever they are, and I’ll grab some of your folks and put them to work figuring out what we can reasonably do in case we get caught without a way out. No sense in us wasting any more time than we have already,” Brak suggested.

“A prudent suggestion, Commander,” the Vulcan nodded, “I believe that will be the best delegation of resources and time. Shall we present our results to the Captain before we reach the colony?”

“Might as well,” the engineer shrugged, “I’m sure he won’t hate having more than one option open to him when the time comes to act.”

“Indeed. I will get to work in my own department and leave you to yours,” T’Rel said, giving the Tellarite a curt nod before heading out.

Meanwhile, in the Hydra’s Sickbay, Lieutenant Commander Tal was getting the medical staff ready to tackle anything that might be waiting for them. His staff was standing around him in a semi-circle as he relayed to them what the expectation was for their department once they arrived.

“We’ve been tasked with preparing for a mass casualty scenario when we get to the Lambda Puppis colony. The planet has been out of comms with the Federation for some time now, and there is a suspicion that something might have happened to the people on the ground. In the briefing the theory was that it might be raiders that have been active in other regions of the Paulson Nebula, but that very well might not be the case. Since we don’t have the luxury of knowing what’s actually going on, we’re going to have to plan for every possible medical emergency a burgeoning colony might encounter,” the Bajoran relayed to his staff.

“Should we make arrangements to deal with things like a pandemic or some manner of mass poisoning?” one of the nurses inquired.

“I think that wouldn’t be a terrible thing to look into having ample supplies on hand to combat,” Tal nodded in response.

“What about natural disaster aid? Should we look at gathering emergency rations in case their food supplies have been somehow cut off?” one of the physicians spoke up.

“Another good idea,” the Commander nodded, “The colony supposedly only has a few hundred people, so we shouldn’t need to replicate a whole lot of emergency rations to supplement what we already have on hand, but I’d say that’s another good area to focus on.”

“I heard the Paulson Nebula was experiencing some kind of freak storm activity,” one of the corpsmen offered, “Maybe instead of an attack, the planet was hit by some kind of electrical storm. Shouldn’t we think about ways to treat plasma burns in a large population?”

“Absolutely,” Tal said, looking at the corpsman, “We don’t have a lot of time to work on this, but these are all suggestions that could help us combat whatever it is we will actually be facing once we’re in orbit. Take the ideas your peers have been floating around just now and do what you can to act on them. If anyone comes up with something in the time between now and our arrival, act on your own initiative. Right now we can only be lazy with our preparations, which means we may still have to scramble even with all the good ideas people have already come up with. Do the best you can, people.”

Several days had passed for the crew of the USS Hydra, a time which the crew had spent in furious preparation for whatever might be occurring in the Lambda Puppis system. The reality of the situation they arrived to find had fallen just slightly outside of their expectations and planning, however.

“We understand your concern, Captain,” the administrator of the colony said with a slight frown, “But we’ve just been through a rather tumultuous few weeks. Most of our facilities are sitting in shambles, and the ones that weren’t outright destroyed by the storms will take weeks to repair. We simply didn’t have the ability to send a message out given the state of everything down here.”

While Captain Bastin was somewhat relieved to find out that there wasn’t an attack on the colony, the situation was still far from ideal. The storm in question had seemingly moved on, but it hadn’t left before doing considerable damage to the small colony. Bastin was about to comment on that very thing when the administrator interrupted his train of thought.

“I would suggest that your vessel depart the area, Captain. Our projections before the storm hit showed that we won’t get much of a window before they return with increased intensity,” the man remarked bluntly.

“Are you saying the storm is going to return?” Capt. Bastin asked, skepticism leaking into his voice.

“At best, you have another week before the storm resurges and you’re trapped here. The ships we had in orbit were lost in the storm, and though I don’t imagine our vessels were even remotely close to your vessel in terms of their durability, they weren’t flimsy. It took the storm less than an hour to tear them to shreds,” the administrator continued.

A ripple of concerned whispers flitted about the bridge at the statement. The manifest they had found regarding the escort vessels that should have been in orbit had led the crew to believe that even if they had lost them in a fight, it would have been a significant feat for attackers. To hear that the storm had managed to basically obliterate such ships in under an hour was a very worrying prospect.

“Why didn’t they seek safe harbor somewhere?” Bastin inquired.

“We didn’t have enough warning. Our science team only discovered the storm a mere thirty hours before it hit, and were in the middle of their calculations on the storm’s trajectory when the leading edge hit us. They only got as far as giving us a timeline for our current window of calm, which is why I can’t even be sure if a week is an accurate estimation of how long you have before the storm returns,” the man said in an apologetic manner.

The lack of concrete information was enough for Bastin to switch gears, “Can you provide us with what your scientists discovered prior to the storm hitting?”

“Sadly, no,” the administrator shook his head, “the labs were one of the buildings unfortunate enough to bear the brunt of the storm. The entire district around it was leveled to the ground.”

“Do you have shelters set up?” Capt. Bastin asked.

“We do, and thankfully they are deep enough underground that we only had to contend with power outages intermittently. Everyone who was lucky enough to be on the surface when the storm hit is in relatively good condition,” the man relayed.

“If you will send us a list of everything you are lacking, and what support you would find helpful, my crew and I will make sure to provide it as quickly as possible,” Bastin offered.

“I’ll have my team contact you immediately. Thank you for your concern, Captain,” the man bowed his head just slightly.

The transmission cut off suddenly, causing Bastin to turn toward his Operations Officer, “Lieutenant?”

“The feed was terminated planetside,” the Vulcan remarked, tapping a few commands, “It appears to be a consequence of their power grid experiencing some manner of interruption.”

“We can put maintenance support at the top of the list then,” Bastin remarked with a smirk before turning to his First Officer, “You have a background in science, do you not, Commander?”

“I do,” Cmdr. Yuri nodded.

“Join the away team with a small contingent of science officers and see if you can collaborate with the scientists on the ground and get a feel for what we’re looking at, timeline wise.”

“Will do,” the woman said, removing herself from her chair to head to the turbolift.

“Lt. T’Rel, contact Mr. Brak and let him know that I need him to head down to the planet to help them solve their power issues and to start work on the dampening field network you proposed. If nothing else, we can set them up around the shelter and increase their chances of survival,” the Captain ordered.

“Would it not be more prudent to take the colonists aboard and escape?” the Vulcan asked.

“If we knew that the storm wasn’t going to block out exit from the Nebula, that would probably be the best course of action,” Bastin nodded, “The problem with that is that we don’t know how soon the storm might return, how intense it will be, or what might happen to the Hydra if we get caught in it. Their shelter is probably a much safer place for them to be with all the uncertainties we’re currently facing, even if it isn’t the most pragmatic solution we have available to us at the moment.”

“Your argument is logical,” T’Rel said after a moment’s consideration.

“As soon as communication with the colony is restored, let them know that we’re sending down our first wave of support,” Bastin said before leaving his seat, “I’m going to relay our findings to Starfleet.”

“Unfortunately,” the Vulcan stopped the man, “Communications are being interrupted by the surrounding storm activity in this area. We will not be able to send out any messages until we clear the Nebula.”

“I see…” Bastin muttered with an unhappy tone of voice, “Then I guess I’ll just review our contingency plans and wait for our away team’s findings.”

“Very well, Captain. I will notify you immediately if the situation happens to change,” T’Rel remarked.

The blue-white shimmer of transporter confinement beams lit up the darkened room that the away team had picked as their beam in site. Power had come up just long enough to warn the colonists of the contingents’ arrival before it had gone back out. The colony’s administrator and a few people who looked as if they might be some manner of subordinates to the man were the only other people occupying the room, each holding a hand lamp.

“Welcome to our shelter, Commander. I am Victor Manis,” the man introduced himself.

“Commander Rena Yuri,” the woman responded in kind, “Our Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Commander Brak has brought a team of our engineers to restore your power grid and set up a dampening field network to assist in keeping your people safe in the event of a resurgence in storm activity.”

“That is most kind of you. Vural, would you be so kind as to show them to our generator room?” Victor turned to the Romulan standing to his right.

“Come with me,” the man he’d called Vural said with a brief wave of his hand. Lt. Cmdr. Brak frowned a bit but didn’t comment on how brisque the man had been in his instruction as he trudged off after him.

“I’ve also brought several of my science officers with me to assist in piecing together a timeline with your scientists. We have our own gear so you needn’t worry about providing us with anything but a bit of space,” Yuri explained the presence of the remaining people’s presence.

“Very well, Commander,” Victor said with a slight bow, “Follow me.”

The group moved slowly down several dark corridors, the clacking of various footwear striking loose metallic metal gratings that served as the floor of the facility was the only sound echoing around them. After what felt like the fifth or sixth random turn down one corridor or another, the team found themselves in a room occupied by roughly a dozen people, all of them sitting around the room in various states of what appeared to be listless boredom.

“This is our science team,” Victor spoke up, “Since the storm hit, they have been somewhat lethargic as our shelter does not provide much of a means for them to conduct their research.”

“I’m sure it’s been hard on them being unable to contribute anything without proper equipment,” Cmdr. Yuri said in a sympathetic tone.

“Who are these people, Victor? Where did they come from?” a rather incised sounding woman demanded from near the corner of the room.

“They are from the USS Hydra,” the man replied to the woman’s vitriol filled question, “They came with some equipment hoping to get a handle on the storm before it returns and they wanted your help.”

“Then say that when you walk in,” the woman hissed, pushing her way through her rather lethargic team to stand in front of Cmdr. Yuri, “I’m Doctor Tala Fores, the colony’s chief scientist.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow at how suddenly the woman shifted from being overtly hostile to almost disturbingly friendly. Squinting a tad against the dim lighting that came from their small hand lamps, the Commander could almost make out the signature spots of a Trill, which might have explained why she was so adept at switching personalities… that is to say if she was actually a joined Trill.

“Commander Rena Yuri, Executive Officer of the USS Hydra,” came the reciprocal introduction, “I’ve been told that your team had managed to piece together the storm’s path enough to forecast this lull in activity and I was hoping that with the help of my team and our equipment, you could help us fill in the gaps so we know what kind of timeline we’re dealing with before the storm makes its comeback.”

“Is it independently powered?” the Trill asked.

“Of course, we knew ahead of time you had power grid issues,” Yuri nodded.

“Excellent, lay it out on that table,” Fores pointed before slapping one of scientists sprawled out on the surface taking a snooze, “Wake up, idiot, we have work to do.”

“There’s no power…” the man complained, not bothering to lift his head.

“Well Starfleet came with a generator, so we don’t have to worry about that, now move!” the Trill said, kicking the chair the man was sitting on just hard enough to jostle him and cause him to look up. When he saw the science officers all holding various containers, he shot to his feet and dragged the chair out of the way.

“I swear…” Tala said with a huff, “Alright, let’s get your gear unpacked and get to work!”

While the science team was setting up their gear, the engineering team had also made it to the generator room. The space was dominated by several large structures that used various methods to generate power, all of which were currently half pulled apart as engineers from both the colony and the Hydra scrambled to locate the issues that were causing the blackouts.

“Find any couplings that need replacing over there?” Lt. Cmdr. Brak yelled at his team at the far end of the cavernous room.

“Just a few fried capacitors, nothing major!” one of his engineers shouted back.

The Tellarite shook his head as he looked at the Romulan, “It’s a wonder you’ve managed to wire all this stuff together and not have it explode on you already.”

“I could say the same thing about your starships, Commander,” Vural smirked in response.

“I suppose you have a point there. Growing up I never thought Federation ships would be such a hodgepodge of near impossible to manage garbage… And then I learned the truth,” Brak remarked with a grunt.

“And what truth would that be?” the Romulan asked as he closed up the access panel they’d just finished working on.

“I wasn’t nearly critical enough of just how bad it would be,” the Tellarite snorted.

“If it is that bad, why are you the Chief Engineer of a cutting edge starship?” Vural asked with a puzzled look.

Brak tossed a tool in a nearby tool case, “Because I’m as stubborn as the people who designed her, and I wouldn’t back down from the challenge of keeping her from flying apart just because they crammed too many bleeding edge, overengineered parts into one ship just because they could.”

The Romulan let out a small laugh before his merriment was cut off by a short flicker of light, followed by a low droning sound that heralded the return of stable power. The two men looked at one another and nodded.

“Looks like it’ll keep working for a while. Now I can move on to those dampeners. Hopefully they’ll work well enough to keep the power relays from taking hits again,” the Tellarite said, dusting his hands off as he made his way toward his tool kit.

“Brak!” the voice of Cmdr. Yuri echoed through the room. The engineer turned and saw the woman running frantically toward him. He frowned and moved away from the equipment crates to make it easier for her to spot him.

“What’s the emergency, Commander?” the Tellarite asked.

“We have to get back to the ship, we have to warn them!”

The conference room aboard the USS Hydra was abuzz with activity as the Senior Staff discussed the situation that had brought them into the space. The return of the ship’s First Officer and Chief Engineer had sparked the need for a meeting, and the ensuing descent into chaos was a result of their report. Most of the information on their current situation had been relayed by Commander Yuri, as she had been the one to work with the scientists on the surface to piece together the projections they had come up with at the beginning of the storm. Lieutenant Commander Brak had provided insight into the conditions of the bunker facility, which had been able to weather the storm rather admirably despite the damage to the colony above.

“Why don’t we simply leave the nebula while we have the chance?” Lieutenant Nieru asked, bringing the din of conversation to a halt.

“If we’d left a few hours ago, we could have made it,” Brak grunted from his seat, “But even pushing our engines harder than they’re rated for, we’d only manage to get caught up in the resurgence they’re predicting at the border. If we aren’t outright destroyed by it, we’d be crippled so badly that life support would give out before anyone could find us.”

“Then we must weather the storm here,” Lieutenant T’Rel said flatly.

“We’ve already explored that option,” the engineer turned to the Vulcan, “Trying to hunker down here in orbit will do us just as little good as the ships that got caught in it before.”

“Weren’t those ships old vessels with weak shields?” the Saurian asked.

“That they were. But being a new ship with overpowered shields doesn’t help us any better. The ion density numbers they managed to collect during the storm before their observation posts burned out suggest that our combat ready equipment would light up faster than if we were working with third rate equipment,” the Tellarite responded with a sour look.

“So we can’t run and we can’t weather the storm out here…” Captain Bastin said with a sigh, “What other options do we realistically have?”

“Take shelter,” Cmdr. Yuri said after a brief pause.

“Where could we take shelter?” Bastin asked, perplexed by his First Officer’s utterance.

“Mister Brak, those dampening fields you set up. Could they be used to set up a picket line around… say… the harbor?” Yuri ignored the Captain’s question to ask one of her own.

“What? You mean put up a ring of them around where we might set the ship down?” the engineer asked, already mulling the idea over in his head.

“That’s it exactly,” the woman nodded vigorously, “We could set up a sort of bunker of our own on the surface, and use it to keep the ship from taking the brunt of the ionic discharges.”

The Tellarite started to object to the idea, but stopped in mid-breath when he realized the idea wasn’t nearly as crazy as it sounded. He sank back into thought for a moment before taking up the PaDD that was sitting in front of him, working out some of the numbers he wasn’t able to in his head. A few tense moments passed, the entire room focused on the facial twitches and grunts issuing from the man.

“That can work…” he declared in a quiet voice before looking up, “It could work! There’s a harbor adjacent to the colony that has a rather convenient sheltered inlet. The ship would just barely fit, and we might knock a few boulders off doing it, but it’d work. We’d need the ship on the surface anyway, to replicate all the parts we need for the dampeners, but we’d have just enough time to make it happen before the storm came ripping through the system if we got to work within the hour.”

The eyes of the room shifted from the engineer to the Captain, who seemed just as impressed with the plan as everyone else had been. Landing a vessel that hadn’t been designed to do so was no small feat, but with little in the way of options and time being the greatest enemy of them all, rolling the dice was far more preferable to certain doom.

“Make the necessary preparations for landing the Hydra on the surface. Once you’re ready, I’ll take her down myself,” Bastin said after giving the plan all due consideration.

“Yourself?” Cmdr. Yuri asked with no small hint of skepticism in her voice.

“I took flight control as my Academy minor and I still keep up with it,” Bastin said with a smirk, “Besides, I would rather something go wrong while I’m behind the console so I can react right then rather than having to hope that our CONN officers have brushed up on their planetary descent qualifications.”

“Fair enough…” the First Officer muttered with a shrug, “Let’s get to work then, people.”

The Senior Staff hurried to their feet, filing out of the room to carry out the task of getting the ship ready to make planetfall. Once the room was empty save for the Captain and First Officer, Bastin turned to the woman with his arms folded in front of him.

“Do you think this will really work, Rena?” the man asked.

The question caught Yuri off guard and it took her a few moments to formulate a response. There had been a few instances when they had had conversations similar to the one they were now engaged in, and each time it hadn’t come from a place of doubt in judgment so much as a place of uncertainty in the odds actually being just high enough that success wasn’t an immediate impossibility.

“I don’t honestly know how it’s going to pan out, Jon, but it’s the best out of all the options that are already destined to end in the destruction of the ship. We at least know that the shelter on the surface can withstand the storm surges even without our intervention. Even if the dampening field doesn’t work as intended, we can always evacuate the crew into the bunker facility and wait out the storm. This gives us the highest chance for survival, even if it’s a huge gamble,” Yuri admitted with a resigned tone.

Bastin nodded and let out a long breath, “I suppose that’ll have to be good enough. Let’s get to work, Commander.”