Shuttle

The shuttle shuddered as it dropped out of warp and the gathered officers and crewman glanced forward to see the view.  It was filled with damaged ships, medical ships, and swarms of others as the battle-weary and worn were repaired and readied.  Peter slipped his PADD out and clicked through the specifications on the USS Denver.  She had been at the front and taken her share of loss and lumps.  The shuttle swooped down and slid into the shuttlebay.

“Crawford, Peter.  This is your stop.”

The operations officer stood and followed the man’s gesture to the busy world of the USS Denver’s shuttle bay.  He scampered off as the shuttle departed and onto its next destination.  He approached the officer of the deck, “Ensign Peter Crawford, sir.”  The woman scanned her PADD and nodded, “Welcome aboard, ensign.  We’re a bit busy at the moment.  I’ll notify the captain of your arrival.  You’re scheduled to meet with her and the XO in an hour or so.”  She motioned to his PADD and she tapped hers to his, “This will give you directions to your quarters and grant you access.  Whatever you had stored on the shuttle has been transported for you.  Your scheduled meeting information has also been transferred.  Congratulations on being assigned to the USS Denver.”  She gave him a nod and he was pointed towards a turbolift.  A few decks later, and a corridor or two walked…and he was safely behind the doors to his quarters, the silence of the room bringing some comfort in the moment.

He unpacked his clothes and found the stash of uniforms.  He opened the various boxed he had carried with him since Starfleet Academy and began to place his things around the room.  The Crawford Ranch belt went up on the wall, a reminder of his past.  He adjusted the case, wondering what his parents were doing now? They’d told him in no uncertain terms he would never step foot on the ranch again and ownership would go to someone else in the family.  It hadn’t hurt as much as he’d expected but it still left a hollow hole where something should have been.

The next was his worn and dusted cowboy boots.  He set them next to the door.  They’d been through a lot with him from home to Academy.  He wondered what adventures they would guide him through on the USS Denver.  A few pieces of memorabilia soon sat on shelves and walls.  His first and only bull riding championship.  The menu from his first date with Tran.  A few books that had always been his favorites.  The handmade rope he’d used on the ranch and in holodeck at the Academy.  He finished his unpacking, took a quick sonic shower, and changed into a fresh uniform.  Checking his chrono, he had timed it perfectly.  He headed for the bridge.

Bridge

Rebecca was standing behind her desk with a cup of coffee in one hand and the other resting on her hip.  Across the desk from her sat a young woman with hair nearly the same shade of red as the captain’s holding a PADD.

 “Warp engines are still off-line.  There is some sort of integration issue with the new core,” the Ensign explained. 

“It’s a brand new core,” Rebecca replied letting her mask slip for a second to show how tired she really was. Sighing she continued,  “It will get sorted I suppose.  It will have to be.”

Ensign McKenzie simply nodded, “Work on deck 5 is ahead of schedule.  The final installation of crew quarters will be complete by the end of the day.”

“That’s a relief,” Rebecca replied.  ‘It’s been a bit crowded around here with a whole deck gone.  Let’s just hope the ghosts aren’t too angry and let us sleep.”

“Ghosts ma’am?” Aoife asked confused. 

“Nevermind,” Rebecca said with a dismissive wave. “Let’s get Commander Lovecroft to inspect the EPS relays.  They took a beating at Tyra, and we all know what it looks like when they overload.”

He stepped to the door of the Captain’s Quarters and pressed the door chime.

Rebecca sighed again. It’s never ending.   I hear that damned door chime in my sleep now, she thought in a moment of self pity.  “Enter,” she said out loud as she faced the door and set down her coffee.

Crawford stepped into the room and found the captain and an engineering officer finishing up a meeting.  The engineering officer left and he stepped forward, “Captain Talon, I’m Ensign Peter Crawford, reporting for duty.  I’ve been assigned as your Chief of Operations.”

“Welcome aboard,” Rebecca.  She pulled out her chair and slid gracefully into it.

The new OPS gave her a nod of thanks.  He had read her service jacket.  It was quite impressive.  The USS Denver was a ship of great talent and skill.  He hoped he would fit in with the men and women of his first assignment.  “I’m looking forward to it, Captain.”

Rebecca nodded, “Your marks were very good.  Not the best of the best academically but, one of your professors said you were one of the best cadets to come through his class in a long time.” Her expression turned dour, “We are short on officers around here to be honest.  That young lady who was just here is our new Assistant Chief Engineer and at the beginning of the war an enlisted crewman.   You’re replacing an officer I served with for two years and was third in command of this ship.  This isn’t the Academy,  and neither is this the ranch you grew up on. I wish I could give you the option to back out, but qualified people are in short supply. ”

Peter resisted the urge to smile and kept a straight face.  The challenge on the ranch and even in the academy had been an incredible motivator.  As much as his family frustrated him, he still was proud to carry the name.  They didn’t back down from the tough stuff in life.  “There’s a quote I latched onto when I was in the Academy.  I think it’s a Captain Kirk one…’Risk is our business. That’s what this starship is all about. That’s why we’re aboard her.’  Given the history of the fleet and your assignments, I don’t expect a ride without turbulence or challenge, Captain.”  He allowed a frown, “What happened to my predecessor?”

“Console exploded after we dumped the core to destroy two Jem’Hadar fighters that were pursuing us. We lost a lot of good people in that battle and the fall-out afterwards. Including our captain.”  She picked up her coffee and took a sip and frowned.  It was now cold.  Setting it aside she folded her hands in front of her. “I think I understand cowboys pretty well myself.   After all I married one. My husband owns… well, the Talons own one of the largest cattle ranches on Terra Alpha Colony with about 3,000 head cattle and another 5-600 head of horses. You cowboys are a tough breed, but this is war.  You need to learn to be a willow branch in the face of the gale, not the oak. The willow flexes and bends, but the oak cracks and breaks.”

Crawford spoke quietly, “I’m sorry for your losses, Captain.  Loss and grief are monsters.”  He finally allowed a small smile, “As for learning to be a willow, I’m sure your husband understands having to be flexible in the ranching business.  Technology can only get us so far.  We’re still taming a land and creatures that were wild…and sometimes show us those wild roots run deep and wide.  You have to learn to be ready for anything…and willing to roll with the punches…literal and metaphorical.”  He contemplated sharing the story of his first bull ride compared to his last but decided that tale could wait for another day.  Her frustration with her coffee clued him in – it had been a long day for his commanding officer.  “Is there anything you need me to start work on immediately, Captain?  I suspect your day has been filled with many of us and the ships final repair schedule…I don’t wish to monopolize your time.”

Rebecca shook her head, “Not at the moment Mr. Crawford,  however if you like to check in with Commander Lovecroft he could possibly use some help with the warp core.”

The new OPS chief made a mental note.  Warp cores were a fascinating subject, even to a farm kid. “Aye, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

With that, Peter left the ready room and headed back out to the Denver’s corridors.  His first assignment.  There was plenty to prove and plenty to learn – and he would need to do both.

Maveren stared at the painting hanging on the wardroom wall onboard  Sopok Nor.  Her eyes were weak, and it wasn’t easy to see at a distance forcing her to lean in.  The black lines and shapes filled with pastel colors made no sense to her. Supposedly there was some sort of image displayed, but she could only recognize the painting’s most basic elements and a little more. 

“What is it?” She asked Gul Gozec. “I’m told it is quite good.”

Hian Gozec looked over his superior’s shoulder at the painting, “Nothing more than a waste of time in my opinion,” the Gul stated as he stood there

“No matter,” Maveren said with a smile.  “If the Founders wanted me to appreciate the art they would have included it into my genetic makeup.  But, I think it may be a missed opportunity. I was bred for the Alpha Quadrant and so many species here highly value art…”  She smiled and clapped her hands, “Who am I to question a God?”

“This painting.” Gozec said as he looked at it once more from the corner of his eye, “is nothing more than a child’s attempt at art,” the disdain could be heard in the Guls voice as he stood there. “We should be taking the force to the Federation and making them submit.”

“And of the 12th Order?” Maveren asked.   “Do you believe it is capable of standing toe to toe with the Federation? Perhaps we should wait for Jem’Hadar’s reinforcements.   Our cloning facilities and shipyards are operating at full capacity.”

“Maveren, you presume to think that I have not already thought of that,” Gozec stated as he continued to look at the Vorta Advisor. “When in fact I have already sent in a request for further reinforcements from the 11th order,” Gozec said as he suddenly felt like they were wasting their time staring at worthless paintings.

Maveren raised an eyebrow at that, “Of course.  And what is your plan to bring honor to the Founders?”

“Listen here Maveren, I do not bring honor to the Founders, but only to Cardassia. If bringing honor to the Dominion brings honor to Cardassia then so be it, as for my plan I will let you know soon enough,” Gozec said in a smooth tone, a tone that not many Cardassians held outside of the Obsidian Order.

“Cardassia is part of the Dominion,  and it is your duty to serve the Dominion. Your concerns no longer revolve around your solitary planet, but how you can better serve the Founders.” She turned away from the Gul and walked to one of the Jem’Hadar guards.   “Take Sixth Deron’don for example.  If I told him that it was the wish of the Founders to kill himself he would do so without hesitation.”

“Obedience brings victory.  Victory is life,” the Jem’Hadar grumbled.

“Yes, yes very good,” Maveren dismissed. “So, if I were you I would watch that rebellious tone of yours or the 12th Order could be looking for a new commander.”

Gozec narrowed his eyes as he looked at Maveren. “As you wish,” he stated as he thought about how easy it might have been to have killed her if her Jem’Hadar guard hadn’t been there.

Maveren continued as if the veiled threat wasn’t still hanging thick over the room.  “The Seventh Fleet has formed a new task group led by the USS Tigris. There’s another ship you may be familiar with. After all, it was one of twelve that slipped through our fingers at Tyra.  It’s a shame neither Cardassian nor Jem’Hadar were up to the task of eliminating the Denver.  Oh well, no sense in dwelling on our failings.  They will be assigned to a planet near the Betazed system backing up the Tenth Fleet.”

Gozec nodded, “They won’t escape a second time. And if you are correct then that is where we need to be. Maybe this time we send a scout ship to do some recon beforehand so that we know exactly what we are going up against, this time,” he stated as he looked out a window into the darkness of space.

“If you think that’s best,” she said with a smile. “Now I have other business to attend to.” She headed for the door but paused to look at Sixth Deron’don. “Sixth it is the wish of the Founders for you to kill yourself.”

The eyes of the Jem’Hadar widened in terror, but he gravely drew his dagger and stabbed himself in the heart.   “Obedience brings victory…” Maveren glanced at Gozec, nodded, casually stepped over the lifeless form of the Jem’Hadar, and left without saying another word.

Gozec had seen the Jem’Hadar take his life at the request of the Vorta, through the reflection in the window. As soon as he was alone he turned and looked at the lifeless body. Two Cardassian slaves stood silently against the wall, fear could be seen in their eyes, as they had witnessed the encounter.

“Clean this mess up,” Gozec snapped out at them as he left the room. ‘such waste in life,’ he thought to himself as he walked down the corridor toward the shuttle bay and his waiting transport.

Rebecca briskly stepped out of the ready room. She smiled at Cheon as he slid over to the XO’s seat, relinquishing the captain’s chair to her.  “Mister Vorath, bring the engines online if you please.”

The Vulcan navigator didn’t even look away from his console,  “Powering up engines, aye.”

“All departments report readiness status,” Rebecca ordered.

Cheon remained silent as the bridge went about its work. His eyes were ever watchful as the senior staff moved about their various tasks. A gentle chime from the intercom was heard as one of the department heads called in.

“Engineering reports all green across the board. We are ready to go.”, Burkley stated as he looked down at a console on the rail that ringed the humming and pulsating warp core.

Cheon nodded his approval when a sweet, at least to him, sounding voice came over the intercom, “Medical is ship-shape.”

Peter Crawford speaks up from his station for the first time as Operations Chief.  “Operations at station-keeping, Captain.”  The OPS Chief runs his hands over the console, checking one more that the USS Denver and all pieces and parts of her were where they should be – and would stay there.

“Science is ready for departure,” the Science chief reported.

Lieutenant Chapman taps her consoles, checking the status of the weapons systems that had just been repaired and refitted. She ensured the phaser banks were fully charged and that the Denver’s complement of photon and quantum torpedoes was also full. After the weapons check was completed, she looked over the security reports her subordinates had sent to her. It only took her a moment, but as soon as she was satisfied, she looked up just as the Science Chief gave their station’s report. “Weapons online and all systems nominal. All decks report ready for departure, ma’am. All secured sections are locked down for departure. We’re ready, ma’am. ”

“Very good,” Rebecca replied.  “Mr. Cheon, will you do the honors of taking us out?”

Cheon nodded to his Captain and stood up, taking center stage for their departure, “Mister Vorath, one-quarter impulse until we have departed the station if you please,” he ordered their Vulcan chief helms officer.

He then looked over to their Chief of Operations Officer, “Mister Crawford, once we have cleared the station, inform station operations that we will be en route to Forkin and should arrive there within three days.”

“Releasing all moorings and umbilicals.  Station Operations has cleared us for departure.   One-quarter impulse heading 341 mark 83,” The Vulcan replied as his fingers tapped out the commands. The ship peeled away from the station. The first time under its own power, far too long.

Crawford tapped out the message to station operations, ensured it was sent, and waited for confirmation of receipt.  The console beeped, confirming their plans had been transmitted.  “Staton has been appraised of our course and timeline.  They wish us safe travels, sir.”

“Mr. Vorath,  Ms. Chapman has requested we test our weapons.  Please seek the nearest asteroid field,” Rebecca added.

“Understood, Captain,” the Vulcan replied.  After a moment, he announced,  “We have cleared controlled space and are free to navigate.   Adjusting course to the Agamemnon Asteroid Field.”

Cheon nodded to the Captain’s request, “One more thing, Mr. Vorath, as soon as we are near the Agamemnon Asteroid Field, I would like you to find a patch that is composed mostly of small shuttle sized asteroids. I want the weapons calibrated to incorporate that size of a target,” Cheon stated as he turned to look at Rebecca. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Aye, sir; I will begin work on the necessary calibrations.” Elisabeth began tapping on her console with that perfunctory statement, working on the new calibrations and streamlining the tactical panel to her preferences. She wanted to be sure she could quickly choose the pattern, yield, and detonation sequence of all weapons, should the Denver encounter any sort of resistance.

Cheon nodded and then noticed that Elisabeth was rapidly tapping on the tactical console. He silently moved from the center of the bridge to behind her without her notice. He watched as she configured the console to her liking and nodded to the layout. ‘I think I will give her a few suggestions later, should we have the time.’, he thought to himself as he moved silently back to the center of the bridge.

“Forty-five seconds, Tactical,” he stated as the Denver neared its destination.

”Copy that, Commander” Elisabeth responded without looking up. She was almost done with her configurations. Once she was done, she looked up and around the bridge, then looked back down and smiled to herself, satisfied that her console was the way she liked it.

“On screen,” Rebecca ordered sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs. “Status of the power distribution network Mr. Crawford.” The whole power system had been rebuilt and this was its first true test as weapons and defense systems came online.

Crawford had been running diagnostics on the new network and had been adjusting elements from the operations side of things as he went.  The system was holding. He stress-tested one last variable and was satisfied with the green light on the console, “Stable and holding.  Stress tests coming back all green and power balance is within limits.”  He hoped it would stay that way.

“Thank you, Mr. Crawford,” Rebecca replied.   She didn’t think it necessary for her to ask him to continue monitoring it, but she would definitely follow up just in case.

Cheon took his seat next to the Captain as the tests were going on. He brought up the sensor scans of the asteroid field, “Mr. Vorath, I would like to see how the Denver handles herself,” he stated as he sent the next coordinates to the helm console. “Send us there and do your best to avoid the rocks.”

Vorath nodded as he took the coordinates and input them into the navigational portion of the console. His fingers flew over the console as the Denver flew through the field.

While the Denver flew through the asteroid field Cheon was deploying small drones. He looked over at Rebecca and showed her and in a low tone, he made a suggestion. “Battlestations?”

She hadn’t planned on it, but giving Cheon a thoughtful consideration she nodded. “We do have a lot of new crew and old people in new positions.  Make the call.”

Cheon didn’t waste a second as he tapped the intercom icon on the arm console, “Battlestation’s, ” he smoothly stated as he repeated the command to the crew several times; the sound of his voice echoed throughout the departments.

Burkley looked over at McKenzie, with a grin on his lips. “Let’s do this McKenzie,” his voice was full of glee as he turned and looked at the Engineering crew.

Crawford tapped the console key setting the ship to battle stations with a red alert designation.

“Shields up to full, weapons hot, Captain” Elisabeth calls out, following standard bridge protocol.

“Do you have your target selected Miss Chapman?” Rebecca asked as the lights dimmed and general quarters sounded. The red flashing lights and the LCARS screens switching to red illustrated their alert status for those who couldn’t hear.

“Aye, ma’am; targets one, two, and three selected. Phasers and photon torpedoes on your command.” Elisabeth’s hands moved deftly over the controls as she got the targeting scanners locked.

Crawford checked the systems as the battlestations status reached the entire ship. The readings on the power distribution system were still holding steady.  the bridge was now transformed to the seriousness of the call.

“Helm attack pattern Omega-four,” Rebecca ordered.

“Omega-four, aye,” Vorath responded as he entered commands into the helm.

As the Denver turned to face the phasers, accelerating to full impulse, Elisabeth called out her firing sequence.“Firing phasers, pattern Ω-four.” She pressed the ‘Fire’ button on her console, and the familiar whoosh of the phaser beams was heard on the bridge as they all saw the beams protruding from the ship to their designated targets, which then exploded spectacularly, raining debris on the Denver’s shields.“Shields holding. Firing torpedoes on targets four, five, six, and seven.”As the ship maneuvers, the photon torpedoes disperse efficiently on the secondary targets, destroying the asteroids and again, raining more debris on the shields. Satisfied with the weapon systems, Elisabeth prepares the third round: using the torpedoes and phasers together.“Firing phasers and torpedoes at targets eight, nine, and ten.” The familiar beams and explosions fill the viewscreen, and debris rains down on the Denver.“Shields once again holding, Captain. Weapons check complete; all systems nominal. Thank you for your indulgence, Captain.”

As the Denver neared the center of the mock battlefield, Cheon, tapped an icon on the arm console. This sent off a command to the silent drones that he had launched prior to the ‘battlestations’ order. Suddenly, on both, the tactical and the helms consoles, red signatures appeared and began to move.

Rebecca raised an eyebrow at Cheon. “Surprise drill?” She asked just loud enough for both to hear.

Cheon looked at her. His face was mostly blank except for a slight raise of his lips. He then leaned over. “Come on Rebecca, you have known me since I was your Chief Tactical and Security Officer. You should remember how I always had surprise drills and how I always held a piece of the drill back until I needed it,” he stated in just the same tone. “Besides the drones won’t damage anything. They’re set for level one combat. However, I have configured the training to simulate everything except for the destruction of the ship.”

“That’s good.  I wouldn’t want to mar our brand new paint job,” Rebecca said with a smirk.

Crawford kept his hands hovering over the console, her eyes scanning the simulated power readings for any kind of disruption or failure at the moment.  Putting a ship back together again was the work of engineers and they were damned good at it – operations were there to make sure all the components worked together for the good of all the departments.  Power, sensors, weapons, environmental – everything connected to everything.  Ship’s operations was a place for an everyman kind of officer, and Crawford relished the role.  A tap or two of the console.  Stability was the name of this game and he had to play it more than just well – he had to excel at it.

Elisabeth did a full sensor sweep, ensuring that there were no surprises. In her haste, she had omitted point-defense practice, or the practice of defending the Denver against small fighters and other small ships. So when the proximity alert system went off, it took about a half-second longer to identify the bogeys as hostile; the words “Hostiles incoming!” had scarcely left her mouth than when the object fired at them.

Vorath took evasive actions and entered in commands as the first drone opened fire with a volley of phasers, which impacted the shields, causing a bright light blue hue to bathe the bridge.

Elisabeth cursed under her breath as she quickly got to work. “Shields holding for now; locking on target.” For one one-thousandth of a second, she had them, but then she lost the targeting lock. The objects were small, fast, agile, and hard to get a lock on. “Target lock lost.” Her voice gave a slight hint of defeat, though she quickly rebounded. “Continuing to track hostile bogeys, Captain.” She continued tapping buttons on her console, then her eyes lit up. The sensors weren’t calibrated correctly for point defense. After making minor adjustments, she could see the targets. “Eureka!” Elisabeth exclaimed in elation. She had them.

Cheon sat there as his eyes looked over the crew, his demeanor was blank, but on the inside, he was overly joyous at the chance to see how the bridge crew would react to a jack-in-the-box attack from an unknown source.

“Chapman?” Rebecca asked, “status?”

“Stand by, Captain.” Elisabeth quickly had the computerized scanners track them while she lined up shots. Point-defense was a bit more challenging to do with phasers, but she believed she could use the phasers efficiently. The phasers responded inefficiently, with the beams missing the targets. Beth cursed under her breath. These controls were sluggish, not primed enough. She continued tapping commands, hoping to fine-tune the phasers.

“Stand by isn’t good enough Lieutenant,” Rebecca said in a stern tone. “The Dominion won’t wait for you to get things right. A second’s delay is the difference between life and death.  Between scoring a hit and eliminating a threat and allowing that threat to continue. Inaction is worse than a poor decision.”

“Yes, ma’am” Elisabeth responded. “Point-defense is a weakness, and will require additional drills to properly narrow down.” Her response is curt as she is tapping commands on her console, hoping to increase the frequency of phaser efficiency. “Shields still holding, no damage reported.” Though the scanners were tracking the drones, getting the phasers to do so was a problem. She think she had it, and tested-fired the phasers. The beam had a direct hit on one of the drones, but didn’t disable it. ‘Dammit!’ Elisabeth thought as she fired again. The beam was too weak to fully destroy the object in full. She fired again, and this time, the drone buzzed with electrical failure. ‘Good enough, at least it’ll be too dead to fire back and be a nuisance.’ She focused her attention on the next target, and fired a burst from the phasers, just as the drones fired back.

Cheon remained silent as he listened to what Rebecca had stated. He knew that she was correct and his fingers continued to issue commands to his drones. More and more bright blue flashes illuminated the viewscreen as he continued the onslaught. In the back of his mind, he knew that they needed this training more than ever.

“Phasers at 75% efficiency, Captain. I apologize for the delay.” Elisabeth was a bit apologetic, but now that the phasers were set, she would just have to set a pattern to make maximum amount of damage to all the targets. The phasers would be firing overtime, and that might cause other problems. “Ensign Crawford, would you keep an eye on the phaser system power readouts? I’m about to overcharge the system, but it shouldn’t be anything outside of the limits. Still, I’m going to need your help.” With that taken care of, Elisabeth started firing. Each time, multiple beams hit the drones, and slowly, the targets began to suffer damage and drop out.

“Compensate  lieutenant.” Rebecca leaned into Cheon, “Remind me to get Mr. Lovecroft to look into that phaser efficiency later.”

“Aye, Captain. Continuing phaser spread.” She didn’t want to use torpedoes, as they wouldn’t be able to track the speed of the drones. Something she learned on the Zion.

Peter tapped at his console, “System holding.”  He continued to run diagnostic status updates she amped up the charges through the phaser system.  The spectrum of danger pushed past the green and into the yellow but held, for the moment.  He kept a careful eye.  Powering a starship was both simple and complicated.

Cheon shook his head ‘no’ as he returned a reply, “No need as Mr. Lovecroft is in on my drill as well,” he stated as he swung the armrest console to show her the message that he sent to the Commander. It also showed the ace that he was holding as well; a single icon was flashing, a drone that wasn’t active, a replicator drone. A grin slipped over his lips as he looked up from the console into her eyes. “I need to know just how well our crew is going to handle a ‘no-win’ situation. Don’t get me wrong we all took the Kubiashi Maru test at the academy but that was simulated, and so is this to a degree. Not to worry any damage that we receive will be minor and easily fixable,” he stated in a reassuring tone.

Rebecca nodded, “I am not sure how valuable the Kubiashi Maru scenario really is, but I am interested in how our young tactical officer responds.  She either bends or breaks.  If she bends we may have a keeper.”

“Indeed,” Cheon replied as he swung the console back to face him.

Beth continued firing, trying to do maximum damage to the maximum number of targets, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to do. There were a lot of kinks that had to be worked out, and the drones just kept on coming.

Cheon was impressed by how Lieutenant Chapman was doing at keeping up with his drones, she had managed to knock out over half of the drones and disable a quarter of those that were still in service. However, it was still not enough to know how she would handle a life or death situation. As Rebecca had stated, ‘would she bend or break’.

As Elisabeth was shooting down drones, she started to notice a pattern of action. These drones were reacting as if they were self-replicating, and though she was confident she could knock them all out, she had to isolate the replication drone. She continued her scans, and then she tapped on the console, displaying a map on an auxiliary display. As she continued firing, she noticed that there was a pattern to the replication, a pattern she could keep track of and maybe discern where the replication was coming from. She continued the point-defense screening fire, though she wondered how long she could keep it up. Then, she noticed that the next wave was forming to do its attack run, and though she was quick on the draw, the ship was once again, out of position. “Captain, permission to move the ship ahead and turn heading 212 mark…” Elisabeth quickly checked the positioning on the tactical map and finished her request. “…mark 24?” She was already anticipating the drones, and if she moved the ship, she could focus torpedoes on the replicating drone, the one that started it all.

“Mr. Vorath, adjust course 212 mark 24, attack pattern theta. Ms. Chapman, please use simulated torpedoes.  They don’t grow on trees you know.”

“Aye, Captain.” The ship moved to optimum position and Elisabeth began programming the torpedoes. She remembered a trick she had been taught by a former shipmate when she had been an Ensign, a way to turn photon or quantum torpedoes into radar-guided missiles. She switched the targeting mode from computer-automated to guided, and programed the deflector dish to shine primitive infrared lasers on the targets. That enabled the torpedoes to be guided to their targets, rather than relying on the really slow (by comparison) targeting scanners to lock on target. “Firing torpedoes now.” Elisabeth had programmed seven photon torpedoes to hit the drones with another six behind those. She was making headway, as she was starting to get the hang of point-defense screening. “A majority of drones are destroyed, damaged, or rendered combat ineffective, Captain. Fortunately, the last two salvos were able to render the replicating drone combat ineffective, which means that now, it’s just a matter of mopping up.” Elisabeth gives a progress report to the Captain as she fires phasers to finish off the drones.

Cheon could only grin. Even with the drone-powered down, Beth had managed to figure out its pattern. Leaning over to Rebecca he stated in a low tone, “Almost had her with that last wave and yet she bent just right.”

“The real test will be actual combat, ” she said to Cheon.  “Very good Ms. Chapman.”

Tapping on the drones icon he had the replicating drone signal for all remaining active drones to return to the ship while salvaging what was left of the destroyed drones. “Well done Ms. Chapman, well done,” he stated to Beth as he sent an “All clear” for the end of the ‘Battlestations’. “Mr. Vorath set course for the rendezvous point with the rest of the fleet, warp 6.”

Captain’s Log: stardate 51171.1. Denver has rendezvous with the rest of Task Force 91 lead by the USS Tigris captained by an old friend.  A meeting I look forward to greatly.  As for the rest of the crew they are still settling into their new roles,  and a few days of downtime should be a welcomed sight.

The transporter room of the Sovereign-class USS Tigris still has that new from the ship-yard smell. In wine and beige accented on gold the Tigris was a contrast to the Denver’s decor from nearly ten years earlier.

A man in command red with spiky black hair and four pips on his collar stepped forward.  Rebecca decended the transporter pad and wrapped her arms around him.

“Nicholas,  it’s been too long.”

“Definitely,” Captain Nick Ryder said with a grin. “I see you finally made captain. About time. Back at the Academy I was sure you were going to beat me to the center seat.”

Rebecca playfully slapped his shoulder, “Whatever.  So, how’s Julie and the kids?”

“You’ll be happy to know Dragon Lady and I are separating,  but Angel and Trinity are doing well.”

Rebecca fell into step with her old friend as the left they transporter room and walked into the corridor heading for the nearest turbolift. “I am not happy you and Julie are separating.   I never cared for her, and I was certain she would break your heart, but she made you happy.  Because of that I hoped you two would have worked out.”

Nick smoothed his goatee with thumb and forefinger,  “I remember you saying that after we graduated too.”

Rebecca shrugged and flashed him a mischievous grin,  “I’m always right.”

“Not always Becca.  You did say you’d make captain before me.” The two laughed as they stepped into the turbolift.  “Bridge,” Nick commanded.

Making small talk they caught  up on things in their lives  Rebecca told Nick about loosing Captain Fitzpatrick and their long refit and repair cycle. Nick had his own horror stories of the war which, included a failed raid on the Monak III shipyards.

At the top of the turbolift shaft they were deposited onto the bridge where their discussions ground to a halt as he took reports from his bridge officers before retreating into his ready room. “There’s always something,” he said as he dropped heavily into his seat and setting a pile of PADDs off to the right corner of his desk.

“I am learning that my ownself.  If there isn’t a dozen fires to put out on a daily basis I start to get worried.”

Nick chuckled as he uprighted a clean white mug with the mission patch of the USS Tigris imprinted on it in monotone blue.  From a nearby pot he poured Rebecca a cup of coffee and repeated the process with his own cup adding cream and copious amounts of sugar before taking a sip.

Rebecca for her part drank it black and as is.  Her first sip brought a smile to her face. “This is real coffee.  How on Earth did you get real coffee in the middle of a war?”

Nick chuckled,  “I have a little stockpile stashed around.   Every time I would go to Earth I would pick up a bag and put it in stasis.”

“Well, here’s to a short war,” Rebecca smirked raising her cup in salute.

Nick nodded, “I’ll survive without coffee.  I have orders for the Denver.”

“And here I thought you invited me over to catch up?”

“Well, I did.  I could have sent you this over comms.” Nick turned to him computer and downloaded their mission details into a PADD and slid it over.  “You will rendezvous with the Mariposa.  The troop carrier will need escorted to Devos V, a planet near the old Demilitarized Zone.”

“Are we expecting an attack?”

“Not at the moment,  but the planet holds a strategic location between the Dominion Space and AR-558 which protects against several key locations in the Alpha Quadrant including Bolius.”

Rebecca held her cup to her lips and sipping considering the information.   After a moment she set the cup down,  “So, it’s important.  Not only that it’s war materials it also lives of Starfleet personnel.”

“That’s the long and short of it,” Nick replied.  “Becca this is important.  I would do this myself, but the Tigris is needed elsewhere and you are the one captain I know and trust on this mission.”

“Not sure if I should be flattered,  but I accept.”

Nick nodded like a weight had been removed. “Thank you Becca.  I knew I could count on you.”

“You always could,” She said.

“Tell you what,  the Mariposa isn’t due in until day after tomorrow.  Let’s have dinner tonight. I have a chef that can do wonders mixing vegetables from the hydroponics bay and  replicated steak. Say 19:00 hours?”

“I accept, ” Rebecca said with a genuine smile.  “I’ll see you tonight.”

Elisabeth walked down the corridor from the turbolift leading to the bridge, ruminating on the latest drill she had been through; the weapons test was beyond successful, but problems had arisen. The Captain’s sharp reprimand rung in her head as she walked:  “Stand by isn’t good enough Lieutenant…the Dominion won’t wait for you to get things right. A second’s delay is the difference between life and death; between scoring a hit and eliminating a threat and allowing that threat to continue. Inaction is worse than a poor decision.” It was a sharp reprimand, to be sure, but the Captain had hit the nail on the head. She knew that she could not repeat that particular failure. Even though ultimately she had made the right decisions and had saved the ship, Elisabeth was dissatisfied with her performance and with the difficulty she had with point-defense. She wanted to explore different tactics (or combinations thereof) to enable her to learn what the best way to counteract Cardassian and Dominion fighters would be. She knew that torpedoes could be programmed to follow laser guidance, which was activated from the main deflector, but she was less sure about the phasers. And so, she wanted to run some drills on the holodeck.

“Computer, create program Chapman Alpha-1. Recreate USS Denver bridge with transparent bridge to see out on the saucer section. Place 8 Dominion fighters directly opposite the Denver.”
The computer trilled and suddenly she was staring out into space, the 8 Dominion fighters directly in front of the Denver.
“Computer, if a fighter is disabled or destroyed, replace with new vessel until further orders are given.”
“Acknowledged.”
Elisabeth then started tapping the console and began to fire phasers. The ships stayed in position, no movement taken. She cursed mentally, then looked out at space.
“Computer, enable evasive movement as if the fighters were involved in a fight with the Denver. Extrapolate tactics based on Dominion intelligence briefings and sensor readings taken during past engagement.”
The computer trilled again. Suddenly, the fighters came alive, and started zipping around, firing potshots at the Denver. Of course, the shields were impenetrable, but it felt like a real combat scenario. Elisabeth then started tapping her panel and went to work.

She started with the baseline calibrations, including her modifications, and similar results to the simulated battle occurred. The targeting scanners were too slow to track the fast moving targets. She moved the sensor readings to the screen off to the side, in front of her so she could actually read the sensor displays and see what the sensors were seeing in real time. Doing this, she discovered something that she could not have during battle: even though the scanners were programmed to track targets that moved fast, the innate resolution of the scanners made it so that the scanners could not keep up with the maneuverability of the fighters. It could track, but not target. Elisabeth pondered these results for a moment, then, turned back to her console.

She tapped a few orders, then pulled the same laser trick that had saved the ship previously, but instead of feeding it to the torpedoes, she fed the targeting data to the targeting scanners, enabling both phasers and photon torpedoes to follow the targeting. She programmed the phasers to follow the laser targeting, then pressed fire. Phasers fired at full strength, dealing crippling blows to various fighters and knocking them out of commission.

She smiled at this new discovery; laser targeting was easier to follow than computer targeting, though as she was soon discovering, the laser targeting system had a limited range. Using the deflector, she discovered that there was a limited range and ability for the lasers to track the target, and because of the deflector dish\’s position on the ship, required constant maneuvering to keep it abreast of the fighters. She tried different configurations, but none seemed to work. Before giving up, she tried launching a probe, modified to emit laser beams from the weapons pod, and linked it with the deflector dish. It was a novel idea, one that had never been tested, but considering the circumstances, it was worth a try. The weapons pod was a nice alternative, but it didn’t have the instrumentation required. For her plan to work, the pod had to be retrofitted, preferably in spacedock, but she could probably retrofit it on the fly with a worker bee, a shuttle, and a few engineers. In the meantime, she could use the probes to increase the effectiveness of the lasers, though that plan of action required approval from the Captain.
“Computer, end program.”
The computer trilled, and once again she was standing in the holodeck, with the doors facing her.
“Computer, transfer all data collected to my personal computer terminal in my quarters.”
The computer trilled again, and after a moment, she walked toward the closed doors, and out of the holodeck.

A while later, Elisabeth sat in her quarters, at her desk. looking at all the data. She grabbed a PADD, and began to write her report, synthesizing everything she had learned. After a few hours, she had a completed report, and so she sent that report to the Captain and First Officer.

Rebecca sat in the center of a command center operating with a skeleton crew. Just her, one of Chapman’s tactical officers, and an officer doing double duty with operations and helm.  There wasn’t much need for a full crew as they were at station-keeping with the rest of the Task Force waiting for their next mission. 

She looked up from her PADD.  A list of personnel transfers including their helmsman Ensign Vorath who would be going to the USS T’vol, an all Vulcan ship. In Vorath’s place was Ensign John Tolly.  Good marks at the academy, highly qualified and recommended,  but green.  She sighed.   This was no time to break in replacement crew, but that was the way of things.  People died or transferred and new officers came in to replace them.

Tolly took a deep breath and adjusted his uniform, taking a second to look down at it, just a few days ago he was still wearing cadet grey, now he was in command red and was about to be the helmsman on a Federation Starship, he knew his parents would be proud. As the door swooshed open John was immediately bombarded by sight and sound. He took a second adjusting his uniform once again before stepping on to the bridge and snapping to attention.

“Ensign Tolly reporting for duty Captain,” he said.

Rebecca looked up and amusement crossed her face.  “Fresh out of the Academy and all spit and polish I see.  Welcome to the Denver Ensign.”  Standing she glanced over at the junior lieutenant at tactical, “You have the bridge Lieutenant.” Turning to Tolly, “Let’s have a bit more private conversation.”

Tolly nodded following the Captain into the ready room.

Entering her ready room she offered a seat to John before crossing to the replicator,  “Can I get you anything before we continue?”

Tolly relaxed a bit. “Centauri tea please.”

Rebecca replicated the tea and set it on the desk in front of John before sitting down and pouring herself a steaming cup of black coffee from a pot sitting on the corner of her desk. “The captain of the Tigris is an old friend and he hooked me up with some real coffee beans.”

She activated her computer terminal and took a moment to look over John’s dossier for a refresher. “All certifications are up to date and positive remarks from your instructors.  Any real world navigation on a starship such as the Republic?”

John took a sip of the tea and shook his head 

“NO ma’am” he paused for a moment “Well…not officially,once while I was able to take some leave my dad pulled some strings and I was able to take the helm of an old Oberth class, was able to take it from Earth Spacedock to Centauri Primia.”

She considered that response for a minute. “Well, everyone has to start somewhere.  I’ll have Commander Kyo take you through some drills before heading head out on our mission tomorrow. Every ship has its own quirks.  I would rather you didn’t find that out with a Jem’Hadar fighter on our tail.”

John nodded, “Yes ma’am.” He paused for a second, “Thank you ma’am.”

Rebecca looked at John over her coffee with an amused expression, “For what Mr. Tolly?”

“For giving me this opportunity” he said.

“This is a front line ship.  We have seen some of the worst of this war.  Almost didn’t make it home from Tyra.  We wouldn’t have had it not been for Commander Kyo and your predecessor.”

“I will try my best to live up to their legacy” 

“Very well Mr. Tolly, welcome to the Denver. Dismissed.” 

Tolly snapped to attention spinning on his heels walking our of the ready room.

Elisabeth received a message asking her to report to the conference room. After sending her acknowledgment, she gathered her PADDs that held the relevant data and set off for the conference room. When she arrived, she took her place and waited for the Captain to enter.

Cheon nodded to the Lieutenant as she walked in. He had a good idea of what she was about to present to the captain when she arrived. He returned his attention to the PADD that was in front of him. On it was her presentation. After all, he wanted to be sure that if stumbled that he could help her regain her footing, so to speak.

Rebecca was the last to enter the lounge. She had a PADD in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.  She didn’t look up from the PADD as she scrolled through the data contained within scrolling with her thumb.  “Good morning.  Sorry, I’m late,” Rebecca apologized as she slid into her seat her eyes still transfixed on the PADD.

As soon as the Captain walked in, Elisabeth stood at attention, then sat down after the Captain sat down.

After a moment of silence, she set the PADD down and took a moment to sip her coffee before turning her attention fully to her officers.   She was tired. It was something she could feel in her bones.  She had taken over Charlie Shift last night so she could give as much of her crew as much downtime as possible. “Ms. Chapman, you had some ideas on how to improve our defenses?  I asked Mr. Lovecroft to attend as I assume you will be expecting him and his people to assist you.”

Beth nodded, then looked around the table. “Yes, ma’am. As everyone here is aware, we ran a tactical drill to test our weapons. During the process, I discovered a glaring weakness in our defense. Point defense or defense against fighters and bombers is a glaring weakness for a Nebula-class starship. Our targeting scanners are too slow to track fast-moving targets; therefore, after the drill, I ran a few simulations. I discovered that an old tracking method, lasers, works really well to focus our phaser and photon torpedo fire for maximum effective coverage. But even lasers have their limitations. Currently, we can only use lasers out of the deflector dish, but I would like to extend laser coverage all over the ship to have a 360-degree field of coverage and fire.” She took a breath and waited for the reaction of everyone in the meeting.

“Lasers?” Rebecca asked amused. “That’s not the most high-tech solution I’ve heard,  but I like simple.  What do you suggest?  To get that complete coverage?”

“Yes ma’am. The concept goes back to ancient history, where ancient countries like the United States developed missiles developed specifically to follow lasers to a target. The idea really isn’t high-tech, but it’s an effective way to allow our phasers and torpedoes to follow fast-moving targets. To your question, Captain, I would like to modify our weapons/sensor pod to emit lasers around and above us. The deflector can cover anything below the sensor pod. Here’s the diagram of coverage…” Elisabeth taps on her table interface and a hologram of the Denver comes up over the table, with the laser coverage coming from the weapons/sensor pods and deflector dish providing coverage. “Not sure if this makes sense, Captain.”

“I think I have a grasp of the situation,” Rebecca said with a nod. “Mr. Lovecroft what do you think?”

 Lovecroft looked at Rebecca and with a nod replied, “Yes I think it is a great idea and would be glad to help Beth with this project,” He stated as he looked over at the tactical officer. He gave her a nod of approval as he looked back at the captain.

“Ms. Chapman,  I think you are on to something here.  Help engineering with your plan, but I need you and your team ready for anything.   We have an important escort mission for tomorrow.”

Elisabeth nods. “Yes ma’am. I’ll continue running exercises and I will probably schedule a few live drills for the security contingent on how to handle intruders and how to conduct proper sweeps of internal spaces. With your permission, Captain?”

“Elisabeth, this is your department.   Training is your responsibility.  All I care about is the end results.  You don’t need my permission on how to lead your team,” Rebecca responded.

“Aye Captain, thank you.” Elisabeth smiled and looked down at her PADD. She began to set up the outlines of how she was going to train them.

Rebecca stood and looked around,  “Thanks people, and good job at figuring that out Ms. Chapman.” With that the captain strode out of the observation lounge for the bridge already moving on to  the next fire that needed attention.

Elisabeth noticed in her peripherally that the Captain was standing up. She stood automatically, and when the Captain acknowledged her, she nodded and half-bowed gracefully. After the Captain had exited, she continued her work.

Cheon walked over and placed a hand on the Lieutenants shoulder. “Meet me in my office in one hour. I would like to go over a few things with you with your idea. Don’t worry it won’t deviate from your initial plans all that much,” he stated as he looked over to Burkley.

Stepping over to the hulking man he informed the man that he needed to see him in his office in one hour. After that, he departed the conference room and joined the captain on the bridge.

The bridge was a hum of activity when Rebecca stepped off the turbolift.   She had made a detour to engineering from her quarters to check on things there before heading to the bridge.  As such, she was the last to arrive for Alpha Shift.  Commander Cheon Kyo was sitting at the center seat and Chapman was behind him in the tactical position.  On the viewscreen was their escort, the S.S. Mariposa sat centered on the viewscreen. Some 10,000 Starfleet troops were on that ship and it was their job to ensure it made it to its final destination.

“Report people,” Rebecca ordered as she moved to the center of the bridge.

Cheon stood up to relieve the command seat to Rebecca as she began her orders.

Crawford took an extra drink from his coffee mug as he tapped at the operations console, “Operations at stations keeping.  Mariposa reports they have secured all stations and are ready to get underway.”  The morning had come early and with it, duty.  Peter was a morning person normally, but for whatever reason today had been a hard one to wake up to – he hoped it wasn’t a portent of what was to come.  He hated having that nagging feeling about something going wrong.  It usually turned out true.  He crossed his fingers hoping his track record would be broken this time around.

With a nod, Cheon looked over to Beth as he waited for her report from the Tactical station. His hands moved behind his back as he stood there listening to the reports. In his hands was a PADD from the Night-shift and their report of the leftover assignments.

Elisabeth was tapping on her console, setting the tactical sensor sweeps up as everyone gave their report. After a pause, she looked at her panel. It was nominal, across the board. “Captain, tactical is ready. The new upgrades are in place and functioning; we are prepared for everything and anything.” She silently hoped to herself that the extensive trainings and preparations she had made of her department would be effective. Still, her intuition was sparking, and she was not fully comfortable.

“Night shift reports?” Rebecca asked Cheon. “Anything I need to know?”

Cheon handed over the PADD, “Nothing to note of other than a couple of fluctuations in an EPS grid on deck 24, which might disable the replicators on that deck until the issue is rectified,” he informed her, “I’ll have Commander Lovecroft take a look at it.”

“Noted,” she said to her XO. “Knowing Lovecroft he’s probably already on it. Mr. Tolly, set course 018 mark 51 warp six,” Rebecca ordered as she slid into the recently vacated captain’s chair.

Tolly nodded his fingers moving over the console, “Aye Ma’am, course laid in. Ready at your command.”

Rebecca sat back in her chair, “Engage.”

Tolly moved his finger touching the screen on his console moving it forward sending the ship into warp.

-Later-

“Mr. Crawford, continuous scans for Dominion ships please.” Rebecca was feeling unease about this, and that old familiar moisture on her palms was creeping in.  They were well behind the front lines, but still close enough to run into Dominion raiding parties.

Peter kept his eye on the console as he set the scanners onto a repeating cycle.  He was still new at this whole thing and wasn’t willing to let anything to chance.  The danger with complacency was that you’d find out just how far you’d slid into ignorance…and it usually hurt.  “Setting scanners on a rotation.”  Peter tapped into the communications system to see what chatter was available.  Sometimes something that seemed out of place was an explanation of something far more dangerous than just a missed reading.  Sometimes it was the difference between life and death.  Crawford had heard that from his instructors at the Academy with enough stories to back it up.  He wasn’t about to make a rookie mistake if he could avoid it.

“Thank you, Mr. Crawford, ” Rebecca responded. She relaxed a bit and glanced over at Cheon, “Maybe after Tyra I’m just a little paranoid,  but something doesn’t feel right.”

Cheon turned his body to look at Peter, “Mr. Crawford, those scanner rotations, are they passive or active?” he asked as he looked into the green eyes of this man.  He could see the confidence in the Ensign’s eyes but he wanted to ensure that even the slightest error could be a huge mistake.

Peter gave a slight nod as he continued to watch the sensors, “Aye sir. Passive only.”  He carefully adjusted the patterns to ensure the sensor system didn’t get any crazy ideas and move into active mode.  The system adjusted and continued to scan as the moments passed on the bridge.  Crawford watched each screen that reported the ongoing results.  He watched the readings move and shift with their position in space.

Then something caught his eye.  An odd reading that was coming in and out at regular intervals.  The computer was qualifying it as a mild disturbance in space.  He kept the sensors passive but opened up the sector in their space where it was located.  He ran it through the analyzer, and it came back with the same result – special disturbance.  Crawford took the data onto a separate screen and began to pull it apart, data bit by data bit.  Something was in there…and it wasn’t a special bump in the road.  A second later, he stood up at his station, “Captain… we have something out there.”  He tapped his console and sent the visual to the screen, “Original analysis was disturbance…but I pulled it apart in focus and found…this.”

“Analysis? Is it a ship or ships?” Rebecca asked, her heart skipping a beat.

Crawford further took the data apart as he updated with the real-time data that was updating from the passive sensor systems he had working.  A moment later and he tasked the computer to examine the data and spectrum analysis with a few modifications, “I’m going to get the computer scenario to think about this differently for just a second…”, he tapped at the console, and then it trilled.  Then it beeped.  Then it alarmed. “Captain, we have at least one ship out there doing a damned fine job keeping hidden from us.”

Rebecca sat up in her seat. “Maybe they are just observing,  but let’s err on three side of caution.   Go to yellow alert. Weapons on standby,  and inform the Mariposa.”

Peter slid the alert status on his console to yellow as the shields powered into place.  He tapped the power directives to ready power for weapons.  Another keystroke and the Mariposa was updated to the sensor readings and encouraged to set their passive sensors to do a similar search.  The low bellow of the klaxon alerted the crew to the increased alert status and Crawford shifted his own attention and focus.  Something was out there.  And he needed to be ready.  “Stations report keeping at Yellow Alert, shields are up and Mariposa confirms update.  They’ve set their sensors to passive in a similar fashion, captain.”

Elisabeth had been preparing for just this moment; the new upgrades on the tactical sensors were doing wonders; she was tracking the foreign objects, but she did not have clear identifications. She chimed in. “Captain, my sensors are tracking 4 ships, unknown configuration. No identification made. Warming up weapons and preparing torpedoes.“ She felt a tingle in her spine, surely she was just paranoid, but something told her to be ready for something, anything. There was a bad moon rising. 

Act I

– Three hours earlier –Burkely lay in his bed, the sheets pulled up to his waist as he dreamt of peace and quiet; however, in the back of his mind, he knew that this was just a dream and that when he opened his eyes that he would still be on the Denver. A soft beep came from his communicator and he reached over, knowing exactly where he had placed it before he had slipped into bed, and grabbed the small device. Without opening his eyes he flipped open the device, “Lovecroft here,” he said in a slightly groggy voice.

‘Sorry to wake you Commander, but we are having a slight issue with Deck 24. Our internal sensors have detected that the EPS grid on that deck is having a major issue,’ came a voice from the other side.

A sigh left Burkely’s mouth as he lay there for a moment. “Contact the Chief of the watch and let them know that I will be there in a moment,” he stated just before he flipped the communicator closed and opened his eyes. ‘What the hell would this ship do if it did not have me on board?’ he asked himself. He flipped the covers off himself and slid his feet onto the shag-carpeted floor and moved toward the sonic shower before he dressed in a fresh uniform and headed for “main engineering”.

– Two hours later –

Lovecroft stood up from the main engineering station, having read over the level three diagnostics that the computer had run for him; on the EPS grid on Deck 24. The irritation could be seen on his face as he headed for the nearest engineer’s locker and the kit that was inside it.

A few moments later he exited out of the lift that he had taken from engineering to deck 24. As soon as he stepped off he noticed that the corridor lighting was flickering. He shook his head and head down the corridor. After taking a corner he stopped and pulled off a panel from the wall. He then reached into the kit that he had set on the ground and produced a tricorder that was specifically designed for the engineering department and began to scan the terminals in the bulkhead.

The tricorder came back saying that nothing was wrong at this junction so he replaced the panel and moved on to the next one; further down the corridor and on the opposite side. Once more he removed the panel and performed the same task as before.

This time, however, the tricorder indicated that several junctions were not powered and that half of the wiring was shot to hell, by being overloaded. Setting his tricorder down he reached up into his shoulder pocket and pulled out his communicator.

“Commander Lovecroft to the bridge.”

‘Bridge here.’

“Bridge, make a note on the Night shift report that deck 24 will be without power due to a minor issue with the EPS grid and that it should be back up shortly after Day shift takes over, Commander Lovecroft out,” he said as he flipped the communicator closed.

Moving the panel back into place he placed a tag-out lock-out on the panel. He placed his thumbprint on the device as he moved away to the nearest Jefferies tube and headed up it. As he climbed into the tube he opened a panel in the tube and crawled into the crawl space between decks 24 and 23 and headed to where the wiring intersected with the EPS grid for the deck below. He pulled out his tricorder and began to scan the grid for the source of the overload. A short while later he slipped back into the Jefferies tube with a module in his hand, and once more placed a lock-out device on the panel within the tube.

Headed back to “main engineering” he stopped one of the shift’s crewmen for engineering and instructed the crewman to wake Ensign McKenzie. He knew better than to wake her himself and thought it best to have someone else do it. The crewmen nodded and headed for McKenzie’s quarters.

The Vorta assigned to this sector stared placidly into the eyepiece displaying images of the little Starfleet fleet.  Just two ships. A Nebula-class and a transporter vessel.   The transport was little threat, and with four Jem’Hadar attack fighters, neither was the Nebula.

Maveren was familiar with this ship. It had been the one to slip through her fingers at Tyra. It wasn’t in her to hold a grudge or even be vindictive about it. However, she knew her Cardassian counterpart did hold such emotions.

“First,” Maveren announced. “Close in on the Federation ships and prepare for the attack.”

The Jem’Hadar bowed his head, “Obedience brings victory.  Victory is life.”

Bridge, USS Denver…

Rebecca watched as the blips of ships closed in on them. “Red Alert. All hands to battle stations. Peter, send out a signal to the task force requesting assistance.  Mr. Tolly keep us between the Jem’Hadar and the Mariposa.”

Crawford keyed in the command for Red Alert as the lights on the bridge flicked over to red, and the klaxon rang out, warning all crew that things were about to get dangerous.  With his other hand, he sent out the signal to the task force, requesting help.  He felt his heart rate pick up speed as the reality of what was out there began to be realized.  Four ships.  Jem’Hadar ships were very probable at this point.  He waited for the ships to appear, signaling the attack to begin.

Cheon leaned forward as the Denver slipped in between the advancing blips and the transport. Something felt off about this encounter being so close to the Task Force and, for that matter, the Federation’s borders. It also felt like this was intentional, like something that this crew had faced before, but for the life of him, he could not place where or who they had faced.

John’s eyes went wide as he looked up at the main viewscreen as he watched the Jem’Hadar seem to appear out of thin air. He had seen holo images of the ships before and had even gone against holographic ones in training exercises at the academy, but this was different. He muttered a curse under his breath before quickly moving back to helm control

Peter growled as the four ships slipped from their cloak, “Confirmed, four Jem’Hadar attack fighters decloaking and firing.”  He braced himself against the console, hoping their helmsman was up to the task of taking the lumbering Nebula class through her paces.

Elisabeth had already activated the shields, and quickly, she targeted the new lasers on the Jem’Hadar attack fighters. The lasers easily kept pace with the quick-moving objects, and she had a targeting solution ready, but not engaged. She did not want to give away the Denver’s secret weapon until the last second. The lasers were all but invisible to the naked eye and to sensors, so by tracking the targets, she could maintain weapons lock and fire when she was given the order. In all honesty, though, she was about to follow through on the old Starfleet adage: “When in doubt, win the war!”

“Helm attack pattern Delta-One,” Rebecca ordered.   “Ms. Chapman, target their engines and weapons.  I don’t care about destroying them; just eliminate the threat. Hit the lead ship with everything you got. Throw the kitchen sink at them if you have to.”  Rebecca chose to be aggressive.   She hoped the enemy would expect a defensive posture, but there were four of them and one of her.  Hit them hard and hit them fast was really the only viable option.

“Aye Captain!” Elisabeth acknowledged the order, and as the massive ship began to move into position, her targeting scanners had full weapons solutions for all four of the craft, thanks to the innovative solution she found. “Firing phasers!” she called out as she pressed the button. A phaser beam charged and hit one of the four hostile ships. “Direct hit, Captain.” She smiled as she configured a burst of torpedoes to eliminate a ship or cripple one at least. If she could knock out one or even two, it would be a fairer fight. Elisabeth held on as the ship shuddered under fire, then she got right back to work defending the Denver.

Tolly nodded “Aye Captain attack pattern Delta-one.” John took the controls trying to get the massive ship in position for tactical to get its shot while still evading the small more nimble craft.

Cheon could see that John was having a little bit of trouble with the maneuvering of the ship. Reaching over and turned the console that was in between his seat and the command chair and pulled up the helms console. He looked at how the helmsman had the console configured. A nod left the Commander’s head as he looked at how he could help the man in the future. He made a couple of mental notes and returned the console to the main view.

Standing up Cheon walked up behind John, “Don’t fight the ship, allow her to flow with you,” he said in a calm soft tone as he looked forward at the viewscreen as a green bolt hit the shields causing a cascade of light blue color to flash from the impact. The bridge bucked slightly as the impact had been a glancing blow.

Elisabeth held on to the panel as the ship shuddered. She could feel the ship’s structure groaning, but she knew it would hold. She continued her work, firing phasers at all the different targets. She fires a salvo of torpedoes, and true to the simulations she had run, the torpedoes found their mark, severely damaging one of the Dominion ships. “One down, Captain!” Elisabeth exclaimed with glee. The fight seemed a bit more plausible to win. 

“It’s not over yet Ms. Chapman,” Rebecca chided.  Realizing her voice was too harsh she quickly added, “But excellent work. Keep it up.”

“Working on it, ma’am!” Elisabeth answered excitedly. She was in her element, and she kept up a heavy rate of fire from the phasers while lining up a torpedo shot with one of the others. But before she could fire, she felt the ship shudder. ‘Damn, they got one past me. Alright, then. If they want to play dirty, I will too.’ She immediately began to reconfigure the deflector to emit a jamming pulse. It was the 24th-century equivalent of chaff, though she hoped that it would give them a fighting chance. She would also be putting her own targeting scanners at risk, but the new laser guidance and targeting system she had put together, it should mitigate the consequences. 

She hit the execute function on the deflector config. panel and a targeted EM burst spread from the Denver’s deflector dish, blinding the traditional targeting sensors as she had predicted, but the laser targeting system was still fully operational. She then fired phasers, and in the momentary confusion, fired three torpedoes at the next Dominion ship, destroying the craft in a brilliant explosion. “Captain, splash one more fighter.” 

Cheon looked back at Chapman, “Nicely done, Lieutenant,” he said before returning his attention to John.

Tolly kept his eye focused on the view screen as his hands continued to dance over the control panel. The outside world seems muted at that moment it was just him and the ship. “Work with me girl,” he said under his breath

Another volley of phaser fire shook the ship. The lights flickered and the hull groaned in protest,  “Damage report!”

Burkley stood in front of the warp core. His focus was on the console when he heard the call from the bridge. “Captain. I don’t know about you but we need to do something. This is straining the hell out of the core.”

Peter gripped the console and held himself in the chair as the ship shook slightly.  Four ships had not been something they’d prepared for and the Nebula class wasn’t built for keeping this up very long.  They’d either need to run, keep dodging or hope for a miracle.  His CO spoke up as the ship shook again from the impact of fire from the Jem’Hadar.

“Peter, any word from the Task Force?” She hoped Nick was sending in the cavalry and they would be here soon.

Crawford tapped his console, “Task Force reporting they are twenty minutes away at best speeds.”  He shook his head, “We may have to start fighting dirty, Captain.”

Rebecca sighed,  glanced at Cheon, and nodded to the XO, “We brought a fighter wing on board for a reason.”

A devious grin slipped over his mouth. “Keep the ship together.” Reaching over he tapped a new icon on the command chairs console and a ship-wide alert was issued.

‘All pilots to your ships.’

He stood up and looked over at John. “Mister Tolly, with me,” he stated as he headed for the lift that would take them to the main shuttle bay where the fighters were stored.

Tolly sprang up from his seat following the XO to the lift.

“You heard the XO.   Keep the ship together people.   Helm adjust course 141 mark 3.  Keep the shuttle bay away from the enemy.”

“Aye Captain,” the replacement responded. 

Elisabeth focused on the next target, focusing phaser fire on the ship and preparing a new salvo of torpedoes to bring down the next target.

“Helm close in on the lead ship. Full impulse!” Rebecca shouted giving what would seem like a suicide run.  “Prepare for a point-five second warp jump at warp one.  Ms. Chapman as soon as we drop out of warp… unleash hell.”

The assistant flight chief swallowed and entered the commands into the helm, “Course plotted and set ma’am.”

Elisabeth prepared to unleash the full fury of the Nebula-class starship. She prepared the quantum torpedoes and set the phaser settings to provide covering fire for the fighters. Granted, it would be really difficult, but she would have to keep track of the friendlies and the targets. She was confident in her abilities, however, and took a deep breath to center herself as the ship prepared for maneuvers. 

Main Hangar, USS Denver

Cheon, John, the flight crew, and the Denver’s fighter pilots had made it together in the main hangar. He had called for a quick briefing to deliver their mission package. They were to defend the ship at all costs and provide diversions where possible. He didn’t sugarcoat anything as he spoke. 

“I won’t lie to you ladies and gentlemen, this is going to put a lot if not all of you in a high-risk situation. I won’t hold it against you if you want to turn back and stay aboard the Denver,” he stated as he paced in front of them. 

A sudden jolt from an impact on the shields made some of the crew in the hangar drop to their knees. As they recovered he looked at them. He could see the resolve to get the mission completed and the willingness to sacrifice themselves if need be. He nodded to each one of them.

“Get to your shuttle’s, flight team. Pilots get to your assigned fighters,” he yelled out as he turned and ran to one of the Valkyrie class fighters that he had trained in while the Denver had been drydocked for repairs.

Aoife slid down the ladder that led to the aft dorsal shield emitter.  The ship shuddered at it was slammed by another energy weapon.  At the bottom sat the emitter still smoking from the resulting onslaught.

One more engineer followed her.  A crewman with a Texas drawl whistled, “She’s  taken’ a beating no doubt  about it.”

Aoife didn’t disagree, but time wasn’t on their side.  The Denver was outnumbered and probably outgunned.  The Dominion as a whole had proven to have superior weapons,  but over the last few months that gap had shunk considerably.

Accessing the diagnostic control panel the young engineer’s fingers danced over the controls urging the emitter to feed back self-diagnostic information back faster.

Another impact from enemy weapons sent her sprawling to the deck hitting her shoulder hard against the exterior housing of the shield generator.   The way the hull groaned Aoife thought that a hull breech had occurred. The shields now were more important than ever.

“Walker, get the phase distortion amplifier replaced!” Aoife shouted to her Texas counterpart.

The Texan didn’t respond,  and just leaped into action carelessly tossing the maintenance cover to the side with a clatter of duranium on polymerized black flooring.  With a laster cutter and brute force he literally cut and tore the damaged component from its mount and casually tossed it to the deck.

While Walker started prepping new component, Aoife was removing the remnants of the damaged amplifier tossing those to the side.  A process considerably sped up with the broken part being removed and not having to work around it.

A few moments latee Walker tossed her the replacement part and she went to work attaching it back into the housing. It was cramped with four hands and tools, but in short order the two had been able to replace it.

Returning to the console her fingers tapped out the nessicary codes to bypass the diagnostic subroutines.

“Ma’am the manual specifically says not to bypass that,” Wallker cautioned.  “Incorrect installation could cause a feedback loop and damage the graviton polarity generator.”

“We don’t have time for it,” Aoife snapped.  “Let’s hope we installed it. correctly.”

The generator started to hum as it powered up.  Aoife started to reroute damaged power relays and a second later the generator was humming with full intensity.

“Walker I got it here. Meet up with Chief Krel’sec leading damage control team four.  We’ll need to shore up primary power.”

“Aye ma’am,” Walked drawled.  

He started to climb the ladder, and paused before disappearing onto the deck above. “Thowing the book out the window.” He winked,  “I think I’m gonna like it around here.”

Aoife gave him a nervous chuckle, “It worked this time, but the book was written for a reason.”

“Yes ma’am it is. To be broken,” he teased and disappeared.

Aoife shook her head, “McKenzie to to Lovecroft.  Shield generator is repaired.   Moving to inspect hull breech on deck 28.”

– Main Engineering – 

Burkely sat at one of the lab stations that were in ‘Main Engineering’. He had the module that he had taken from the crawl space between decks 23 and 24 open on the table before him. He peered inside as he waited for McKenzie to arrive.

“Computer,” he said as he opened the engineering tricorder and set it next to the module, “run a level three diagnostics on this module,” he ordered.

A soft beep was heard as the computer began the order.

“What do you have there boss?” Aoife asked approaching Burkely. 

Lovecroft stood up and stepped aside as he motioned to the seat, “Have a look and tell me what you see?”

She raised an eyebrow,  “Sir?  It appears to be a standard memory transfer module.   There are probably two hundred all over the ship. They should have been all upgraded to the new Mk. XII during the refit.” Picking up the opened module she could see corrosion on the circuitry.  “Did this get wet somehow?”

Lovecroft nodded with her assessment. ‘Not bad,’ he thought to himself. “Three hundred and fourteen, including this one,” he informed her as he peered into the opened module. “There is no way that this module could have gotten wet. The closest septic or water pipe is about three meters away and there was no indication of condensation in the crawl space,” he stated. 

“Idea’s or theories?”

She thought for a moment, and shook her head, “Nothing good.   Pure sodium will corrode immediately under standard atmospheric humidity, but there shouldn’t be any sodium present in these components.  Perhaps it got wet at the manufacturer, or in shipping.   I suppose sabotage is in the realm of possibility,  but that seems highly unlikely.”

“Indeed,” Burkely stated as he reached in a removed the damaged circuitry. He then reached over and retrieved the engineering tricorder and handed it to her. “Now that we have eliminated what we can see visually let’s see what the computer can tell us,” he said as he looked at his assistant.

Opening the tricorder she scanned it entering commands into the device for a few seconds.  “Stray current corrosion?” She asked unsure if that was what she was actually reading.   But there it was. Several circuit pathways had become shorted to ground.  Several capacitors were burned out as well.  “I’m sorry but… well Sir, this is beyond my knowledge.”

“I know it is,” Lovecroft stated as he looked at her. “I brought you here to see what you knew and to see if you and I could solve this issue.”

He nodded back toward the tricorder, “Tell me what the computer suggests,” he stated as he smiled down at her. “Don’t be afraid to speak out about what you think should be done based on what you know,” he said as he continued to look at her. “Not saying something about an idea to a solution; could be what causes something to not be known,” he finished as he leaned over next to her looking at the circuit with her.

He had an idea as to what could be wrong with the module, but he was pushing the new Ensign to explore her ideas on a solution to the corrosion. After all, she was brilliant in her own ways and she needed the push.

“Computer recommends the replacement of the module.  Do we not have replacements?  Is there more like this that suggests that this is a symptom of a larger problem?”

Burkley placed several on the table. “Each and every one of these has the same issues that this one has,” he stated as he pulled out one of the newly replicated modules. “I can only think that if these fresh modules are tainted with the same code as this one. Then the problem would then be in the coding in the replicator’s member bank.”

She shrugged,  “I really don’t know sir.  It could be a bug in the code.  I doubt it. My money is on an external source.   But, to be honest this is way out of my experience level.  This wasn’t covered in Engineering School, and the manual offers no guidance.”

The Commander nodded. “I see,” he stated as he brought up one of the modules to a light source and looked at it. “McKenzie,” Lovecroft looked at her. “How good is your memory on how the replicator system, both commercial and industrial, works?” he asked as he returned his attention to the corroded module.

“It wasn’t my specialty sir.  I’d have to pull up the manual for anything complicated.”

Burkley nodded again. “Make it a habit to know every peice of equipment…” he continued to speak as he looked from the module to McKenzie, “on this ship. Like the back of your hand,” he stated as he placed the part back into the container it came from. 

He then handed her a PADD labeled Industrial and Commercial Replicator. “Read that tonight and get back to me in the morning with a solution as to what caused the replicators on deck 24 to malfunction.”

Aoife glanced at the manual, before switching off the screen and tucking it under her arm. “I will sir.”

Elbow to elbow sickbay was at capacity. The walking wounded were being turned away to head to the mess hall where nurses would take a closer look at them. Less severe cases were simply sent back to their posts throughout the ship. There just wasn’t the medical staff to treat every bump and bruise.  

However, those that needed immediate medical attention were seated and laying all over sickbay.  Every spare space where someone could be placed… they were. Doctor Lorsa had joined the crew shortly after the refit at Starbase 75 and now she was being thrown headlong into the fire.  

She ran her tricorder over an engineering officer whose leg had been shattered in several places after a fall from someplace. It was ugly looking and bleeding pretty good, but not immediately life-threatening. She pressed a hypospray against his neck to fight infection and ease the pain.  She stabilized the wound and used a foam medical spray to stop the bleeding.  “I’m sorry Chief, but I can’t do much more than this at the moment.”  

She waved down an orderly, “Take him to the cargo bay.”

“Yes Doctor,” he responded and enlisted another orderly for help and they assisted the engineer out of sickbay only to be replaced by a new patient.  Efe sighed, This is going to be a long day.

Seong stared into a monitor suspended above a patient as her hands moved expertly inside of his open chest. She held an auto-suture in one hand as she placed stitches on the inside of her patient’s chest.

“Wipe,” she ordered as sweat flowed down her forehead. A nearby nurse caught the droplet on a gauze pad and then proceeded to wipe Seong’s forehead.

A hand came down on her shoulder. “After you finish here take some downtime.”

“You know I can’t,” she retorted as she looked at the second shift Doctor.

“Commander you have been performing admirably for the past several hours, and thirty patients. Let someone else take over while you get some rest.”

Seong knew that she was starting to feel exhaustion and nodded. She looked at the nearby nurse. “Close this chest.” She then stepped off of the operation platform and headed for the nearest door. She entered shortly thereafter into the officer’s lounge.

Efe examined the next patient.   There was nothing short of a full surgical suite on a Starbase that could save him.  The whole front of his uniform was a charred and bloody mess.  There was an unfortunate fact when it came to triage, and that people you might be able to save might take up so many resources and time you end up losing several other lives to preserve one.  And this was a bad case, and he was a long shot even out of an emergency.   Loading a hypo spray she injected him with a strong dose of pain killers and the orderlies carefully carried him out of sickbay.

There was no time to dwell on the situation and she dove back into the crisis for the next fifteen minutes.   Sweat-soaked, blood-stained, and smelling of various bodily fluids Efe stumbled into the officer’s lounge.   Seeing the CMO already there Efe went to the replicator and replicated two raktajino’s. One for herself, and the CMOs. Collapsing on the couch across from Seong she set her Commander’s drink before her and took a sip.  

The Bajoran cocked her head suddenly.   There was silence.   The stars were motionless in the window.  “It would seem Doctor that we survived today’s round with the enemy… more or less.”

Seong looked at the woman that sat a cross from her and then her eyes drifted down to the steaming mug on the table.

“Don’t let this lull in the combat cast you into a sense of comfort,” she stated as she leaned forward and retrieved the mug. She then took a long draw from the Klingon coffee and swallowed, allowing the heat to permeate her worn-out body. 

Seong had seen her fair share of combat before joining her husband aboard the Denver. She had seen what this lull in combat could do to even the most veteren of crew members. ‘A false sense of hope that only remained for a moment to be dashed upon the explosions once more,’ she thought to herself as she looked into the darkness, knowing that somewhere close was their enemy, their harasser, and the cause for so many in pain, and death.

“That is almost poetic,” Efe said contemplatively.. She sipped her own coffee and sighed. “I heard a human say once ‘war is hell’.. I couldn’t agree more. If I were religious I might pray to the Prophets for protection.”

“War isn’t hell doctor. It’s where you go on leave,” Seong stated as she took another sip. “Enough about this day. I would like to know more about you, Efe.”

Doctor Lorsa took her CMO in for a moment before before speaking,  “Not much to tell to be honest.   Born on one of the Bajoran Colony worlds during the Occupation.   My family bribed a Laurian trading captain to smuggle us off the planet where we ended up on some Starfleet station.   From there my parents were offered asylum and we immigrated to Michigan where I grew up.  It’s sad, but I identify with humans more than my own people.  My parents and all their Prophets stuff always seemed weird to me.”

Lorsa checked the chronometer.  Her break was over. “Time to get back at it.  See you around Doctor.”  She reluctantly stood an headed back to the chaos of trating patients. 

Open Space, Jem’Hadar Fighter

Gozec reached over and tapped an icon on the console of his fighter. He had chosen to fight the Federation inside one of the many Jem’Hadar fighters instead of staying safe onboard one of the starships that were just outside of the Federations scanner range; rendering those ships undetected for the time being. 

As soon as the connection to the fleet’s main flagship had been connected he spoke to Maveren.

“Gul Gozec to Maveren, I thought it best to inform you that the fighters will be in detection in three minutes and that the remainder of the fleet will be detected soon thereafter,” he stated as he looked at the Vorta from within the cockpit of the fighter.

Maveren nodded, “We couldn’t remain hidden indefinitely.   The Jem’Hadar will succeed where  Cardassians could not.”

Gozec returned the nod to Maveren, “This will be a day to be remembered as a day that the Founders claim a deep foothold into the Alpha Quadrant,” he said as he places a clenched fist over his chest, “We pledge our loyalty to the Founders, from now until death.”

He then disconnected the communication with Maveren and slammed the throttle wide open as he entered the Denver’s scanner range.

Maveren on the bridge of a Cardassian cruiser made a look of disapproval as she looked around. She would have much preferred to be on a Dominion ship, and she certainly didn’t trust the Cardassians.   But, she wasn’t going to engage in battle so it was best to sideline a Cardassian ship rather than a Dominion ship.  The Jem’Hadar knew how to fight, and fight they would.

USS Denver, Valkyrie wing

Cheon sat at the control of the Valkyrie that he was in command of; on the viewscreen was Rebecca.

“Captain, Fighter group Alpha, and Beta are away. We should be able to assist in diverting some of the attacks off of the Denver shortly. Keep their fighters off of us,” he said as he lead from the front of the Alpha wing.

“Understood Commander,” Rebecca’s voice came over the intercom. “Are you loaded with the new tri-cobalt bombs?”

Fight fighters and two shuttles followed his lead as he pushed the group away from the Denver and out toward the incoming attacks from the Jem’Hadar. Reaching over he tapped on the console in front of him.

“John, I hope that you are ready because the Beta group is yours to lead,” he stated as the image of the man came into view, splitting the screen in two; showing both Rebecca and John at the same time.

“Aye, sir” came the quick response “Beta group form up with me let’s keep those fighters off the Denver!” He said as his own fighter broke off towards the oncoming Jem’Hadar fighters 

“Aye, sir!” He heard the dual response from his Squadron, a human, Steve, and an Andorian female Telas. It wasn’t long before they were in the thick of it Tolly quickly maneuvered the nimble ship.

A shuttle banked hard right and let loose two torpedoes. A small explosion gently rocked the Valkyrie that John was in. ‘splash one.’ an excited voice came over John’s intercom. ‘Got your back, Mr. Tolly.’ 

A fighter closed in on Cheon’s fighter.  “I got your wing,” a feminine voice said over the comm.  The helmet hid her Androian features, only the blue nose and chin poking out below the visor to indicate she wasn’t human.

Cheon turned his head and looked over at a Valkyrie that was taking up position to the rear and right. “Identify yourself, pilot,” Cheon ordered; as his HUD was not able to lock onto the pilot.

“Ensign Esessa Sh’ivhohlol,” she replied.  “Just transferred to the Denver this week from the Tigris.”

Cheon nodded to himself. “Well sorry for throwing you into the ‘Lion’s Den’ Ensign,” he stated as he pulled the trigger on the joystick that was between his legs as another Jem’Hadar came into phaser range of his Valkyrie. The barrage missed the fighter as it careened off in the opposite direction. “Nibble little fuck,” he said to no one in general as he turned his head to look back at his wing fighter. “Sh’iv, bank hard left. You have a fighter on your tail”

Shi’iv rolled hard left and performed a split s maneuver followed by a full thrust immulman which strained the structural integrity and the inertial dampers of the fighter.  As she came out of the maneuver she let loose a bust of micro photon torpedoes. Three hit exploded along the enemy’s shields doing minimal damage. 

The yellow phaser beam of a Cardassian ship cut through space and drove home the seriousness of their situation.  In the distance, the Denver rolled to the right and banked steeply up, and at the same time phaser fire lanced out at a Jem’Hadar fighter closing in on the Federation fighters.  The beam cut through the nacelle pylon and the tiny ship careened out of control before exploding.

Gozec watched as the fighter exploded near his fighter. He shook his head and banked hard to the left on an intercept course for the elusive Denver. ‘I’ve got you now,’ he thought to himself as the distance to the target slowly started to narrow.

“The Jem’Hadar are focusing on the Denver,” Shi’iv announced over the intercom.

Cheon looked toward the Denver his eyes locked onto a Jem’Hadar fighter that was closing in.

“Captain, a single Jem’Hadar fighter is bearing down on you. Bearings are 025. Mark 259,” he stated as he brought his fighter to match the cords.

“Understood Knight Actual,” the voice of Rebecca returned. The Denver banked hard to the right trying to break the weapons lock, but to no avail.  The enemy tore into the Federation ship, the shields rippling under the onslaught. 

Gozec grinned in delight as he watched the explosions ripple along the hull of the Denver. Glee washed over his eyes, but nowhere else. Dipping down he dove under the rim of the saucer section of the Denver. Reaching over the tapped the comms icon on the console.

“Maveren, the enemy is damaged,” he said as he rolled his fighter to start his second run.

“Don’t gloat yet,” Maveren replied. “That ship isn’t burning wreckage and the transport is getting away.”

“It will be soon enough,” Gozec stated as he aligned the targeting reticles onto the Denver and its main power source; the warp core.

Cheon, swore aloud as he saw the damage to the hull of the Denver, “Knight Actual to Denver. Damage report Captain.”

“Aft shields are down. We have hull breeches on several decks, and sickbay is being inundated with casulties,” Rebecca replied the strain in her voice.

“Denver, I am detecting three ships incoming,” he stated, suddenly his valkyrie shuttered as a Jem’Hadar fighter snuck up behind him and fired.

Suddenly a Sovereign-class starship escorted by a pair of Akira-Class ships dropped out of warp answering the call for help from the Denver.  Quantum torpedoes shot from the Tigris and the Akiras shredding A Cardassian warship which erupted in flames.  Another Cardassian ship started to bank and retreat but it was slammed with phaser fire from the Denver aided by her new allies and it jerked and fell dark as the power failed and started to drift away from the battle.

Gozec looked at the new players that had entered the field. A sudden rage filled him. “Fleet retreat.”

His hands flew over the controls and pointed the nose of his fighter into deep space. Moments later the battlefield was silent. The only things that were moving were the debris from the carnage of the fight.

Cheon’s fighter drifted amongst the carnage, and oxygen slowly flowed from the rear of his craft. Lights flickered and flashed as he sat there trying to connect with the Denver. The comms unit was damaged as he sat there. He could see the Denver, Tigris, and the Akiras, but he could do nothing but sit there and think about the situation and how he could make it better.

“Thirteen-year-old Ethan Talon sat at one of the tables at the station’s replicator.  One could handle only so much solitude in your quarters, and he wasn’t someone you would call a “social butterfly”.

He picked up a slice of Pizza bit into it and set it back down on his plate.  And picked up his PADD.  He had a book report due the next day, and he really didn’t like reading.  Why sit looking at text when you can experience it in the holosuite? With a pen he wrote several paragraphs on his device, before switching to a second PADD to look something up from Larry McMurtry’s “Lonesome Dove.”

“What are you up to Cowboy?”

Ethan looked up to see a girl about his age with dark hair and a hint of Chinese features. A smile spread across his face with recognition. “Howdy, Trinity,” he greeted before standing up and giving her a hug.

The two sat down with Ethan grinning uncontrollably. “I uh… oh it’s nothing.  Just a stupid book report.”

“You know Ethan it’s part of a rounded curriculum.   You have to know how to write, and communicate effectively,” Trinity said.

“No I don’t.   I’m going to punch cows like my grandpa.”

“I bet your grandpa knows how to read and right.”

Ethan conceded that point, “Yeah, he does. And says math is important in the cattle business too. What are you doing here?”

“Mom’s serving on the Tigris with grandpa so I’ve been living with Grandma… She’s the new Strategic Operations Officer here,” Trinity replied, “and you?”

“Dad’s here as the chief of security so he can be close to his wife,” Ethan said acting like it was a minor annoyance.

“You don’t like your step-mom?” Trinity asked. “I’ve known her all my life. She’s always seemed pretty nice to me.”

“Oh, she’s fine I reckon,” Ethan said with a shrug. “She’s better than mom I guess.  I haven’t seen her since she left years ago and took my sisters with her. Mom couldn’t stand Terra Alpha.  It was too backwater for her, and way too far from Earth.  She wanted to go to Paris, New York, San Francisco, and Tokyo whenever the notion took her.  Something she couldn’t do on the Bar V Lazy T.”

“The what?” Trinity giggled.  “What the heck is that?”

“The Bar V?” Ethan shrugged, “It’s the family brand, and thus the name for the ranch.”

Trinity scowled and cocked her head in confusion, “So your family has a brand? Like Coca-Cola or something?”

Ethan laughed, “Not exactly. It’s a set of symbols owned by ranchers that are burned or frozen into the hide of livestock to identify ownership.”

“How barbaric!” Trinity exclaimed.

Ethan shrugged, “We mostly use microchips now, but there are a few traditionalists out there.  It’s a lot harder to change a brand than a microchip.  You can use a running brand, but you can still see the original brand under the skin.”

“It sounds cruel.”

Ethan shrugged and rolled up his sleeve to show an odd semi-rectangular scar on his upper arm, “Technically I was branded.  I don’t know the biology of it all, but it didn’t really hurt beyond the initial sting.” Pulling down his sleeve he turned his attention back to his meal.  Eyeing the remainder of the slice of pizza he picked it up and finished it off in two bites.

Trinity considered it for a moment and shrugged unconvinced, “Maybe, but it still sounds barbaric. I’m glad we don’t live on Terra Alpha. You people are monsters.”

Ethan laughed not offended by the slight.  He was used to his home planet being called a backwater hillbilly hellscape.  But, the truth of the matter was that it was a beautiful planet with sweeping plains of golden grasses, towering peaks, and beaches with crystal clear water and sand so white it could almost blind you on a sunny day.  Capital City was a thoroughly modern metropolis and did trade with all the major powers in this region of the galaxy.  There was even a Ferengi Stock Exchange.

“You never know, you might find you’ll like it,” he said with a shrug as he took a long drink from his cup. “It’s one of the prettiest planets I know.  Might even be better than Earth since major cities aren’t overcrowded and everywhere. More natural beauty if you will.”

“You sound like you are on the tourism board,” she teased.

Ethan shrugged, “I just love home is all.  Someday I’m going to own my own ranch.  Not in the plains like grandpa, but up in the mountains.  Nothing crazy, just ten-thousand acres or so.  That gives me a decent 2,000 head herd.”

“Well it’s good to have goals.  You don’t want to join Starfleet? As soon as I turn seventeen I’m heading to the Academy if they will accept me.”

Ethan shrugged, “Naw, I don’t think so.  I’ve had my fill of being stuck here in a tin can.  I need my wide open spaces.”

“I can appreciate that, but it would be nice if I knew someone at the Academy.”

Ethan shrugged not taking the hint, “You’ll make friends I’m sure.” He checked his chronometer and his eyes grew round, “I got to go!” He gathered up his PADDs and tossed the remains of his meal onto the tray.  “It was good seeing you Trin.  See you around.”

He shoved his tray into the replicator for recycling and then disappeared into the horde that made up the people of Starbase 75.   Trinity simply shook her head.  Boys!

https://photos.app.goo.gl/Q1SwBTouMCT7UirJ9

Golden grasses stretched across the prairie broken by clumps of juniper cedars and the occasional piñon.  A hot wind blew across the prairie as a lone rider topped a rise. He was young, in his late teens or early twenties with a week’s worth of black beard growth on his chin. His black hat was pulled down low shielding his face and neck from the brutal sun.

The horse, and beautiful buckskin with thoroughbred and quarter horse bloodlines, walked briskly despite the heat.  Its golden yellow coat glistened with sweat and the black tipped ears darted about catching whatever sounds it could.

The man wore a gun on his hip. A well worn six-shooter, and relic of the war between states.  The revolver had once been the property of a Captain Talon of the 3rd Ohio Cavalry. A rebel ball had taken his father’s leg at the Battle of Chickamauga, which ended Captain Milo Talon’s career in the Union Army.

Milo Talon returned to the farm in Southern Ohio where his wife Rebecca tried to eek out a living.  But farming was hard for a man with one leg, and in 1870 Milo Talon packed up his family and everything they had left and headed West to ranch in Colorado. 

Like everything else to happen to Milo Talon since the war, that didn’t go as planned either.  They set up a homestead along Beaver Creek, and went to raise some cattle. Rebecca Talon died in childbirth on that little hardscrabble ranch. She was buried on the hill looking over the cabin. The next year a flood took the herd.

Milo took to the bottle after that and started spending more time in Cañon City gambling.   Milo was a fair gambler and might have made a living at it if he hadn’t drank up all his winnings. It was up to Ethan to fend for himself and take care of his little sister.

One night Milo got into a disagreement with a fellow gamber.  The gamber drew down on Milo and before he could clear leather the gamber put two holes in his chest.  As his father lay dying on the floor of that saloon the gamber fled town.

A local family who lived a little further up Beaver took pity on Ethan and his sister and offered to take them in, but Ethan had the wandering spirit. With his little sister being taken care of Ethan saddled up Milo’s old bay mare and left.

For the next five years he drifted. Down in Texas he learned how to punch cows.  It was on the King Ranch Ethan found he had a natural skill with a gun.  

“You don’t need to be the fastest, señor,” Jose told him once.  “When you pull that trigger don’t miss.”

Ethan looked at the old Mexican and nodded to him. “Yes sir.”

“A gun is a tool. It’s not a trophy or badge of courage.  Many men have been buried who wore a gun attracting a reputation.  Don’t draw a gun unless you intend to use it, and never point it at anything you don’t want to shoot.”

It was good advice and Ethan followed it.  He never wanted to make a name for himself anyway.   There was just one man he would face, his father’s killer.  But, until then and hopefully after Ethan intended to just be some no-account drifter.

After Texas he did a little prospecting outside the wild boomtown of Tombstone, Arizona. Had a few drinks, and won a few dollars from Doc Holliday before drifting on to California where he made nearly $400 off a grubstake.  

The buckskin gelding dropped into a little arroyo where scattered juniper grew along the edge. Ethan lifted his canteen to his lips and drank.  The water was hot, stale, and tasted of tin.  It was amazing.   There were turkey vultures up ahead were circling something.  Ethan found him lying on his back with a bullet hole above his heart. A few inches lower would have been instantly fatal. 

Reigning his horse Ethan slid out of the saddle and let the reins dangle.  Kneeling next to the man he offered him his canteen which he took in slow drinks interrupted with spurts of coughing and groans of pain.

The man didn’t say anything,  and Ethan didn’t either as he tore off strips of his old bandanna and dressed the wound.   There was no water here.  He didn’t have enough water in his canteen for just the horse let alone both of them. With considerable effort Ethan helped the much larger man into his saddle.  He groaned in pain, but managed to sit upright.  

With reins in hand, Ethan led the horse northward.   Hardscrabble Creek was only a few miles away, and maybe five or six lay Florence.

They didn’t speak to each other as they worked west towards the creek. The man was barely conscious as it was anyway. Within thirty minutes Ethan stood at the edge of the hill. It was a steep drop off lined in shrub oak and loose rocks.  At the bottom obscured by tall cottonwood trees marked the path of Hardscrabble Creek.

Ethan found a game trail and worked his way down the side with a clattering of rocks.  The stranger was surely a cowboy as he remained in the saddle despite it all.  

At the bottom Ethan found a suitable campsite and pulled the stranger from the saddle.  Stripping the saddle from the buckskin he rubbed the horse down let it drink deeply from the creek before picketing the gelding to graze on the green grass.

Ethan built a fire, and bathed the stranger’s wound packing it with a poultice of wild onions he had found. The shirt he had been wearing was thin and light, and didn’t appear to be missing any pieces.  His father had told him that the bits of the uniform were deadlier than the bullets.   If you didn’t get those peices of cloth out, infection would be soon to follow.  And this infection almost always ended in death.  

Ethan decided digging the bullet out would likely do more harm than good so with his sewing kit he made two quick sutures to close the wound and dressed it with the last of his torn bandanna.   There was nothing else he could do. 

“End of Chapter One,” a disembodied female voice announced. “The time is now 20:00 hours.”

Ethan looked up at the sky, and sighed.  “Computer, save progress and end program.”

There was an electronic beep and the creek bottom vanished to reveal the grid of a holosuite.  Ethan was no longer a young man, but the thirteen-year-old boy that he very much was.  

Ethan tipped his hat to where the stranger had been sleeping, “I’ll see you next time, partner.”  With that he walked out of the room and into the busy corridor of Starbase 75.

Strategic Operations Centre – USS Tigris

Riandri sat in the strategic operations centre of the USS Tigris as she and her escorts, the USS Radiant Storm and the USS Fazakerley patrolled the frontlines of the ongoing conflict with the Dominion. She looked around at the strategic operations and intelligence officers as they poured over all the data from the ship’s sensors and the data packets received from the fleet before she boarded the vessel. She had not spoken to many of them, partly she didn’t see much point as she was only going to be on the vessel until they rendezvoused with the USS Denver, at most another day or so, and because she didn’t have much to offer at the moment since she didn’t have full access to the computer; there had been no need when she was only going to be on board for a couple of days. She sighed inwardly as she watched them, ‘Why am I even here?’ she wondered absently before the sarcastic voice in her head chimed in, ‘Where else would I go, not like I do anything outside of work…’ 

Dismissing the voice she looked back at the console before here and scanned through the limited sensor readings she had access to, all appeared clear but that never meant much with the Dominion. Before she could get into anything any further the claxons sounded and the lights turned red just as the computer’s voice came over the intercom. 

== RED ALERT, ALL HANDS TO BATTLE STATIONS ==

Frowning Riandri began to stand as the station she was at would soon be occupied by one of the Tigris’ own officers. As she got to her feet her combadge chimed, “Lieutenant Nalam to the Bridge,” she quirked an eyebrow at that and tapped her badge, “Lieutenant Nalem, Confirmed and en route.” With that, she nodded to a Bolian ensign as she turned and walked out the door just as he entered. ‘Guess I will get to see the bridge of this beast.’

Bridge – USS Tigris

A couple of minutes later Riandri stepped out of the turbolift onto the bridge of the USS Tigris; as she did she brushed down her uniform as if it had wrinkles to make sure everything was sitting right and blew a few stray strands of hair blond hair from her face. She didn’t want to appear that she had run the second she left strategic operations. She did curse inwardly though for not making sure her hair would stay in place.

As she stepped out several heads turned to look at her but only one mattered. Before she could even announce herself Captain Nicholas Ryder smiled and waved her over. “Lieutenant Nalam, I am sorry I didn’t get a chance to meet you before now but things have been busy, normally I would try to meet all new officers on board, even if they are just transferring through.”

Riandri was a bit taken aback by this, after all, the battleship, one of the strongest vessels in known space was on red alert presumably about to go into battle. “Oh,..” she said lost a bit for words. “That is not a problem sir, I don’t anticipate I am here for long.”

“Possibly alot less than expected Lieutenant. We just received a distress call from the Denver, they have encountered a force of Dominion vessels. We should be there in a few moments.” Captain Ryder said as he looked back at the view screen. Before Riandri could respond the tactical officer spoke, “30 seconds Sir. The Storm and Fazakerley have confirmed weapons ready.”

“Excellent, Lieutenant Commander,” Ryder said before glancing at Riandri, “Thought you might like front row seats to this as the newest intelligence officer on the Denver.”

Moments later the three vessels dropped out of warp and the view screen showed several Cardassian cruisers and multiple Jem’Hadar fighters engaging the USS Denver as it valiantly fought them off as her fighter wins activity engaged the Dominion vessels.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Captin Ryder said, “Fire,” and the Sovereign and her Akria escorts unleashed hell onto the enemy ships. The first cruiser exploded under a bombardment of quantum torpedoes while the second was rendered all but useless by the rapid and sustained phaser fire of the four Federation ships. Seeing two of their cruisers removed from the board the Dominion forces jumped to warp and left the battlefield.

“That went as good as can be expected,” Captain Ryder said. “Get me a full damage report on all four ships and get me, Captain Talon. I have a new officer here for her.”

Bridge, USS Denver

Nick Ryder appeared on the main viewer of the USS Denver, “Good to see you still intact.”

Rebecca smirked, “You know me. Nine lives and all, but I do thank you for coming to the rescue.  They were more than we could handle.”

Nick laughed, “That’s what I’m here for.  Always bailing you out of hot water.”

“Once!  You did it once, and I wasn’t in the right head space at the time.”

Nick shrugged, “Still, if not for me you would have been academically expelled from the Academy.”

Riandri stood off to the side of Captain Ryder and tried to suppress the chuckle that tried to get out. The result was a muted snort that was loud enough for most on the bridge to hear. Resulting in a few glances her way

Nick turned to face Riandri with a grin on his face. “I almost forgot to mention,” he said turning backk to the view screen, “I have your new intelligence officer here with me. Lieutenant Riandri Nalam. I can have her transported over right away.” 

“Understood.   We are ready to recieve here.  See you around Nick,” Rebecca said.   “Denver out.”

He glanced back at Riandri and nodded. “It was great to meet you Lieutenant, I hope we cross paths again. Report to transporter room one for transport to your new assignment.”

Riandri smiled, “Yes sir,” she said as she offered him her hand and then turned and headed to the transporter room and the Denver.”

Glenn Trejon Prol picked himself up off the deck of the Warship Valdora.  The bridge was black and eerily silent with… well, most everything offline.  There was a hiss and a pop followed by a shower of bright sparks momentarily illuminating the bridge and showing the destruction.

Gul Morek was dead.  A piece of shrapnel to the forehead did the trick. Prol felt no sympathy for his late CO.  He was one of those officers that actually believed Dukat and his lies.  Morek was a fool.

As for the rest of the bridge crew, they were either dead or dying.  Prol knew he was one of them.  How he knew that he didn’t know, but his abdomen was on fire, and it was increasingly harder to take in a breath.  Prol cursed Dukat, the Dominion, and anyone else that he could think of that had led Cardassia down this path of destruction.

Coughing, he stumbled over the rubble and fell. His strength was failing him, but his anger pushed him on.  In the dark, he touched something not part of the ship, and he instinctively recoiled.  The lifeless body of the Vorta lay on the deck pinned by a support beam. 

Rage filled Prol’s veins with white-hot venom as he repeatedly kicked Maveren. His emotions were no longer controlled; he took it all out on the Vorta until he no longer had the strength to stand. He fell hard to the deck on top of his foe. Even as the last of his energy reserves faded, he couldn’t stomach dying next to the Vorta. Attempting to crawl away, the blackness fell over him. Glinn Prol was still partially lying atop the Vorta that disgusted him so much. Even in the inevitable death, peace would not find him.

USS Denver – 

The battle had ended almost as quickly as it had begun.  The ship had done well and held its own.  Rebecca had been impressed.  “Report,” she ordered. 

Peter Crawford shook the dust out of his hair as he tapped at the console.  “Shields are at 40%, but engineering reports repairs are underway.  We’ve sustained heavy damage to decks 1 through 5, with 4 and 5 taking the brunt.  Medical teams and engineering teams are moving quickly to put their eyes on the situation.”  He gestured to the bridge, which had a thin layer of smoke drifting around it as lights and consoles flickered, “The bridge is functional aside from an EPS conduit issue which is being diagnosed.  Warp engines are offline due to the hits they took but they are repairable.  Impulse is at 50%, and sensors are spotty at the moment.”  He tapped at his console further, “Damage reports are being routed through engineering while injured needs are being routed through Sickbay with the help of three operations officers who should be arriving within the next three minutes.”  He shook his head, “We were damned lucky, Captain.”

Rebecca sighed,  “Mr. Crawford lead a team over to the Cardassian ship.  Rescue whatever survivors you encounter,  but that ship might have vital intelligence for the war effort.”

Peter gave a brief nod, “I’ll take three security officers with me,” he slipped out a PADD as he spoke further, “I’m calling Security Officers Houston, Wellington, and Plasac to the transporter room.  Keep an eye on us, Captain.”

Rebecca nodded to Peter, “Will do. You’re likely going to encounter useful intelligence over there.  Take Lt. Nixon with you, but you are in charge.  If he doesn’t like it, have him come to me.”  

Lieutenant William Nixon was the new intelligence officer assigned to the ship.  He was head of a one-person department and spent most of his time censoring and encoding outgoing transmissions.

“Oh, and contact sickbay.  See if they have anyone to spare.  There are likely injured people over there,” Rebecca added.

Crawford gave an accepting nod, “We’re on our way.”

Warship Valdora-

The transporter faded, and the team immediately spread out. Ensigns George Houston, Lawrence Plasac, and Brian Wellington all brought their phaser rifles to the ready position, clicked on the lights, and moved to cover the intersections of the corridor while their sickbay representative, Ensign Patricia Polson, slipped out her medical tricorder and did a scan of the immediate area and reported, “I’m getting some life sign readings, but they are sporadic.”  She was a nurse but had been combat-trained over the last year.  Crawford had chosen her specifically on his way to the transporter room.  She made sure she was in between at least two of the large security officers at all times as she continued her scans from one corridor to the next, “We’re not alone, Ensign.”

“Understatement of the year.”  The voice of their new intelligence officer broke through as he swaggered through the hallway, a phaser in his holster and a PADD in his hands.  William Nixon was confident coming into this mission and mostly because he outranked everyone on the away team.

Crawford didn’t look at him but said plainly, “Don’t get cocky, Lieutenant.  We’ve got a mission and lots of things in the way of getting to it.  Make sure your weapon is in hand and charged.”  Nixon nearly spouted back at the ensign, but he’d come to learn that the operations chief had proven rather prickly to others’ attempts at shutting him down.  Peter shifted his attention to the corridor leading to a turbolift.  “There are two more corridors to go before we get to the lift.  Houston and Wellington – take point.  Plasac and Nixon bring up the rear.  Polson, you’re with me in the middle.”

Nixon muttered under his breath that he should be in the lead, but a stare from Plasac shut his mouth and reminded him why he didn’t want to be here in the first place.  Nobody respected him, it seemed.  At least his paperwork on the ship didn’t talk back to him.

Seong stood on the transporter pad with her phaser unholstered. She checked the weapon and ensured that it was set to a mid-level stun before she holstered it. “Chief, open comms to Ensign Crawford,” she ordered as she looked over at the chief that was behind the controls of the transporter.

There was a chirp from Crawford’s communicator, ‘Ensign Crawford, please move yourself and a single security officer to the corridor outside of that compartment. I am beaming down.’ came the voice of Seong. Before there was a chance to allow any retorting comments, the connection was closed.

Seong looked at the chief and nodded. The room glowed for a moment as the transporter energized and dematerialized Seong. A moment later, the glow emanated just outside of where she had indicated Crawford to be.

Crawford had done as she’d asked.  She was a full lieutenant commander and the chief medical officer.  He knew better than even to attempt to argue with the woman.  He’d taken Houston with him.  Seong materialized, and Peter gave her a nod, “Lieutenant Commander Seong.”  There was a sudden shifting of someone around the corner, and he lifted his weapon up out of instinct, “Sounds like we have someone alive.”  He listened.

A young Cardassian officer moaned as he lay pinned to the deck under a beam. His face was a charred mess from an exploding ODN conduit. He stared blindly and swallowed. “Who’s there?” He demanded, hearing their footsteps approach. “Nor’vak? Grovel? I… I can’t move.”

“I am Lieutenant Commander Kyo from the Federation Starship USS Denver,” Seong stated as she dropped to a knee and pulled out her medical tricorder, “I am here to help you. Please do not move,” she said as the tricorder moved over the Cardassians’ waist. “Your waist is pinned down by a beam from the deck above and has broken your pelvis,” she told him. “I am going to give you something for the pain and then get you out of here and back to the Denver,” she told him.

Crawford motioned to Houston, “Cover the corridor that way, and I’ll cover the other side.  Let’s give Dr. Seong some room and time to work.”

The Cardassian growled as he spoke, “Touch me, and you will….”

“Let me guess, die?” Seong said as she snapped out her arm and pressed a hypospray into his neck, administering ten cc’s of Triptacederine. “Sorry, but you’re in no position to try and kill me today, sir.”

Seong pulled out her communicator, “Commander Kyo to Doctor Efe, prepare for medical transport to transporter room one. Captain, please have a security detachment at transporter room one for the duration of this away mission,” she stated before closing the connection.

“Understood, Doctor,” Rebecca’s disembodied voice replied back.  “Mr. Crawford report.”

Peter replied, “Ships pretty torn up, Captain.  It’s stable, but I would wager a long-term experience isn’t going to be good for any of us.  We should probably get to command and control to see what else is hiding in the corners of this thing.”

Lieutenant Nixon looked at Peter with resentment, but the captain had put the ensign in charge of the mission.  He had to follow that order, but he did not have to like it.  Maybe the doctor will take command of this circus, Nixon thought to himself.  I think the captain is in over her head.  She doesn’t know what she’s doing. Putting an ensign in charge.  Ludacris!

“The bridge is over there,” he indicated to Peter with a nod of his head. “If we are going to find any intel, that’s where we need to be.”

Crawford gave a nod and gestured to the team, “Let’s get back into our grouping – let’s carefully move through the corridor intersections.  We don’t know how many are left.”

Seong tapped Peter on the shoulder after the Cardassian was transported away. “This is your away mission Peter,” she said. “I am not taking over it.”

The Ops chief smiled quietly, “You may end up taking over depending on how things go from here.  I don’t think your patient is the rule to what we’re going to find.  We’ve got some tough corners to clear to get to the bridge.”  He gave her a nod of thanks, “The sentiment is appreciated, Lieutenant Commander.”

He motioned to the forward security officers to shift forward, and they all moved together, mostly.  Nixon had to be reminded with sharp whispers from the security team to avoid causing a collision with each other as they walked carefully in loose formation to ensure they would see whoever was coming for them before they came for them.  Houston and Plasac cleared the first corridor with care and stood in with rifles raised as the crew moved quickly through and into the long hallway.  The two of them returned to the front, and Wellington slipped back to the rear. 

Crawford counted one more corridor until they’d be within distance of the doors to the bridge.  He motioned them forward.  As the two in the front checked the corner, there was a whine and explosion of disrupter fire that flooded the intersection.  Houston and Plasac stepped back nonchalantly with looks of annoyance visible.  Peter turned to the CMO, “Easy is for other people, I suppose.”

Seong slipped her phaser from its holster. “Easy is not the word I would use Pete,” she said in a low tone as she readied herself.

He motioned the third security officer forward, “See what they need to clear whoever’s slowing us down.”  He nodded and shuffled forward.  Nixon sighed loudly behind them, his phaser rifle at his side and his eyes searching the ceiling for distractions.  Crawford bit his tongue as he turned at the sound of the repeated firing of phaser rifles as the three security officers cleared and then slipped around the corner letting loose unseen blasts and fire – shouts and screams of the enemy as they realized they were not going to snatching victory from Starfleet.  A moment later the three officers appeared, dragging three bodies and dropping them in front of the CMO with a thump.  Wellington gave her reassurance, “They’re just stunned.  Put up a hell of a fight.”

Seong holstered her phaser as she did a quick examination. Pulling out her communicator once more she raised the Denver, “Three more, incoming,” she said before she closed the connection and watched as the light blue transporter energy coursed over them. Once they were clear she stood up and pushed passed Houston, Plasac, and Wellington, “Excuse me,” she stated as she bore down on Nixon.

She didn’t care if every Cardassian, dead or alive, heard her. “Do you have a problem Lieutenant?” Seong asked as she stood in his face. She didn’t care if she was out of line in front of the others as she spoke to him. “I am waiting for an answer.”

“No ma’am… you know what? I DO have a problem, ma’am.  The captain is obviously incompetent in putting an ensign in charge of this three-ring circus. There is a severe lack of leadership on the Denver.” Nixon replied. 

“When this mission is over, Lieutenant, consider yourself confined to your quarters,” Seong growled as her usually light brown eyes shifted to a dark golden hue. She had had enough of his insubordination and was going to ensure that he was held accountable for his actions, which included his mouth. Mouthing off about her was one thing; however, saying that the captain didn’t know what she was doing was unacceptable.

Seong leaned in, “You best be glad that I am the one dealing with you. Had it been my husband or even the captain herself, you might have been a casualty,” she whispered into his ear.

Seong had learned from her husband how to project herself toward people that thought themselves better than the rest, and she had had enough of his petty sounds. “Just remember something, Lieutenant. Just because you outrank everyone here, except me, doesn’t mean that the team,” and she emphasized the last word as she spoke, “is yours to run. Also, Mister Nixon, don’t ever chastise a department head in my presence again.”

With that, she turned her back on the Lieutenant and moved forward, her phaser once more unholstered, and past Pete. She winked as she did and entered the corridor that lead to the bridge.

“Remind me to never upset you, Lieutenant Commander.”  He motioned the security officers forward and followed in the scrum as they moved through the hallway with the ranking officer leading the way.  Houston and Wellington skittered to the front door and gave Seong a quiet nod while motioning for everyone to step back and down as they worked on the door.  Plasac shifted to kneeling in front of Crawford as the door slowly opened.  Plasac fired through the small opening as cover fire and there were shouts from the other side as the door slowly shuddered open.  Houston and Wellington leaped, tucked, and rolled into cover as they let loose a barrage of cover fire allowing the others to fill the space and find their own cover.  There were three live ones scattered around the bridge, and they were not going quietly.

Glenn Trajon Prol heard voices and movement.  He was fading in and out of consciousness, but it didn’t seem like they were Cardassian.  He hurt too much to say anything and remained silent.  He hope death would come soon.

Seong had followed Houston and Wellington onto the bridge and had rolled up behind Wellington, pressing her body hard against a blackened, and soothed bulkhead, behind a structural pillar, for cover. She peeked around it and then looked back at Peter. She signaled from him to get low and over to her. 

Crawford slid to her side, “Suggestions?”

In a low voice, she suggested to him that now might be a good time to try and negotiate with the survivors on the bridge.

A Cardassian stepped away from the cover, his weapon above his head, “Don’t shoot. We surrender Starfleet.”  Another Cardassian,  a woman this time, also stepped away from cover.  She was wearing civilian attire, and her black hair had come loose and fallen around her shoulders. A streak of blood ran down her face.  There was defiance in her eyes,  but there was also the resignation of defeat. 

Ensign Houston moved to disarm the Cardassian when a hand grabbed his pant leg.  Prol was staring up at him. “Don’t trust her. She is not to be trusted. Obsid…”  His grip weakened, and it fell to the deck with a soft thump.

Plasac and Wellington scrambled as the woman slipped out a knife and swiped at Houston’s neck, blood splattering as she threw his body to the ground, and she sprinted for the turbolift, shooting behind her with an unseen disrupter pistol.  Wellington was at Houston’s side in seconds, hailing sickbay for an emergency beam out as they vanished into beams of light.  Plasac looked up and found Crawford throwing himself into the turbolift with a shout, his shoulder leaning in hard to the Cardassian woman’s suddenly surprised face as the crack of bone to face echoed through the bridge.  Lawrence snapped out of it and quickly jumped into the turbolift to help subdue the woman.  It took a few minutes, a lot of shouting, and several traded punches between the attacker and them until the woman was out cold.  Plasac threw her out of the turbolift with a curse, shaking his head as he strapped her hands and feet in cuffs, not taking any chances.  “Goddamn Obsidian Order.”  He stared down the remaining Cardassian, who had watched wide-eyed at the raw display by the two Starfleet officers.  “You want to get to your knees, put your hand behind your head, and do it now.”

The Cardassian complied.

Seong stood over the Cardassian Agent. Her eyes never wavered as she stared into the woman’s eyes. “What did you think to gain?” she asked her, all the while she continued to run an epidermal regenerator over the gashes that she had obtained from the fight and the battle.

The agent scowled at Seong and definitely spit in the Doctor’s direction. “I have nothing to say Starfleet.”

Seong shook her head and turned away with her eyes closed. In her mind she thought to herself, ‘get this fucking bitch out of my sight.’, but out loud she simply stated, “Get her to the brig.”

With that, she holstered her phaser and pulled out her communicator. “Denver away team ready for extraction.” Moments later the ship lay silent as the last of the bright light of the transporter’s energy faded away.

Transporter Room – USS Denver

Riandri stepped off the transporter pad on the USS Denver and looked towards the transporter Chief as they spoke, “Welcome abroad the USS Denver, Lieutenant. The captain sent down word, she would like to met you on the Bridge.”

“Thank you,” she began as she  shifted the duffle on her shoulder that contained her few personal belonging she kept with her and began to leave before the Chief continued. “I can take that if you like and have it dropped at your quarters sir.”

She smiled at that and handed the duffle bag off, “I would appreciate that, thank you.” She said and quickly left.

Bridge – USS Denver

Riandri stepped out onto the bridge of the USS Denver, damage from the battle clearly visible throughout. As she stepped out she came to attention as several eyes turned her way, “Lieutenant Nalem, for Captian Talon. I was told to report here.”

“Aww Lieutenant, walk with me,” Rebecca said as she handed a PADD to another Lieutenant who was standing near the tactical station. “You have the bridge again Ms. Chapman.”

Rebecca led Nalem to the turbolift, as the pair stepped inside she spoke, “Sorry about the craziness.  It’s been one of those days.”

Riandri held herself straight as she stood beside the Captain, “So it seems Captain, how is the ship and crew? I didn’t realize the damage was so extensive when I was aboard the Tigris. I hope that casualties are low.”

“Relatively. Thankfully,” Rebecca said distracted reading reports. “Main Engineering.” The turbolift beeped and started moving,  “My… our XO is missing,  and one of our security officers was killed on one of the away teams.”

“I am sorry to hear that Captain, the lose of anyone is always hard. With any luck the XO will be found alive and well.” Riandri said, relaxing a little, “I assume the away mission has encountered survivors then? Would you like to to met with…” she paused for a moment debating the correct word, “…them? I have some experience in that regard or I can beam over to the vessel and see what is there of use. A disabled cruiser is a catch. Do we know if it is stable enough to tow?”

“I don’t,” Rebecca replied as she the doors parted and deposited them in engineering. “As far as interviewing survivors,  we will probably need you to do that.”

A young red-head with ensign’s pips approached,  “Captain.”

“Where is Commander Lovecroft?”

Aoife McKenzie shrugged,  “Last I heard he’s leading damage control teams on deck five.” Aoife glanced over her shoulder,  “We should have warp five in the next ten to fifteen minutes.   Any faster is going to take a little longer.”

“How much longer,” Rebecca asked.

Aoife sighed, “We have to rebuild tbe plasma injectors.  We got them working,  but I wouldn’t push them too hard. They are likely to burn out.”

“Very good Ensign, ” Rebecca nodded. “Thank you.”

“Of course captain,” Aoife extricated herself from the conversation and started shouting orders.

Rebecca watched to return to work before bringing her attention back to Riandri, “We lost our captain and most of our engineering crew at the Battle of Tyra.  I am new to command.  Ensign McKenzie left Starfleet Academy and enlisted in Starfleet at the break out of the war. We just gave her a battlefield promotion to take over as Assistant Chief Engineer.  We have a lot of people on this ship stepping up to jobs they may not have been prepared for.”

Riandri nodded as the Captain spoke, “War, and battle has a way of throwing people I to things they never expected, changes ones trajectory. People either step up in these situations or well, not.”

“Our current Chief Intelligence officer had a bit of a run-in with our Chief Medical Officer.   She’s confined him to quarters,  and as far as I am concerned he’s done on this ship. Are you ready to be the head of our intelligence department?”

That stoped Riandri in her tracks, sure she had overseen several officers back when she was in intelligence at HQ but an intelligence department. That was unexpected. “Oh…” she said, “Yes, I can do that. I can get to that right now.”

Rebecca nodded, “Then I suppose you best get at it.  We have have a Cardassian ship to look over, and several POWs.”

Riandri grinned as any possible nerves rapidly faded. There was a job to do and the information the Cardassians and their ship held would most likely save lives. “Well looks like I have my work cut out for me Captain. No rest for the wicked it seems,” she said as she cocked her head and anorted softly, “…always felt that phrases suited this line of work.” 

The Cardassian prisoner stared up at the ceiling as the Denver’s medical team worked on him trying to stabilize him.  Death was knocking at the door.  His breaths were shallow and ragged. 

Prol grabbed one of the Starfleet officers by the uniform leaving a bloody handprint on her collar.  “Not all of us are friends of the Dominion,” he pleaded.  “Promise me your people will do all to liberate my…  my world,  and I will…” He sucked in the air, as a wave of pain washed over him.  He waved a nurse away with a hypospray,  “I must say it, and I must have a clear mind.  I will tell you Starfleet, everything I know.”

Riandri stood by the door to Sickbay and watched as the team of doctors and nurseries worked to save the life of the injured Cardassian. ‘No rest for the wicked it seems’ she thought to herself, ‘if what he says is true the interview, yeah “interview”, will be easy.’ Before she had a chance to think much more on the matter a doctor walked over to her, as she approached Riandri turned to face her, “Lieutenant Commander Seong I presume? I’m Lieutenant Nalem, the new intel Officer who just transferred from the Tigris. I wanted to check on the patient.”

Seong shook her head. “I am sorry Lieutenant, but I can not allow that at this time,” she said as she turned and headed into sickbay. She looked back at the Lieutenant for a brief moment and then returned her attention to the severely wounded Cardassian.

Riandri frowned as she watched Seong walk away, ‘Did she think I wanted to question a half-dead Cardy? What good would that do if he died…’ she thought to herself. “Completely understand Lieutenant Commander,” she said as she continued to watch for a few more minutes. 

“Prol, I am Doctor Kyo. I need you to relax and allow my nurses to help you otherwise you will not be able to tell us what you know,” she said in a calming, relaxing tone. Her eyes locked on the Cardassian’s eyes as she spoke to him.

He coughed.  Breathing was almost impossible now. His head was light, and he could feel what was probably a trickle of blood running down his cheek from the corner of his mouth.  He simply nodded giving in to the medical staff.

Seong smiled and turned to her nurses with a nod. They moved over to Prol and began to treat his wounds. Seong tapped on the medical console next to the bed and it began to scan him from head to toe. She shook her head as she read the monitor. ‘I’m not sure if I will be able to save him, but I will give it my all.’ she thought as she turned to look at her patient, a smile, thought faked, was in plain view.

“Prol, you have some internal bleeding and for myself and my team to treat them, I must place you to sleep. I know you want to have a clear mind about this, and I know that if you are treated you will have such a state of mind, and no pain.”

She allowed the urgency of her words to sink into his mind as she stood there with all confidence radiating from her.

Prol allowed the darkness to take over knowing he very well may never wake up again.

The doors to the sickbay suddenly opened, and a medical team pushed in another patient. Seong turned to see who had come in, and her eyes widened when she saw her husband lying on the hovering gurney. She dashed over to his side without a second thought. Despite the fact that most of the color had returned to his skin, he was still unresponsive.

She turned to face the medical team, who were relaying what Lieutenant Halfcock had told them. She nodded at their information and was already making a mental list of what she needed to do and how it compared to her husband’s medical chart. A hand came out and locked onto her wrist as she was about to turn and head for a nearby medical station. Seong turned and was about to chastise whoever was preventing her from saving her husband when she realized it was Cheon.

He looked at her with a smile on his lips. “Miss me?” he asked, his voice weak. He then let go of her wrist and shut his eyes. “If you’re going to give me something, give it to me as a stimulant, and don’t argue with me right now.”

Seong opened her mouth to object, knowing that she could tell her husband to go to hell and relieve him of his command under the medical policy, but she knew he had something on his mind that he needed to do. Instead, she nodded, retrieved the hypospray, and inserted a stimulant. “Once you’ve finished whatever you’re about to do, Commander Kyo, you get your ass back here and into a biobed,” she said as she pressed it to his neck and leaned in. That is a direct order.”

BRIG-

A Cardassian officer sat on the edge of his bunk. He wasn’t particularly high ranking and was just a soldier.   First for the Central Command, now for the Dominion.   He didn’t have much opinion of either. He simply served the legitimate ruling body of Cardassia.

Riandri stepped into the observation room of the brig and looked over at the cells and the current occupants before turning to the ensign manning the station. “I trust everything has been ok with our guests?” She asked to which he grunted in an affirmative. “ Good, let us get started, the officer would be the best start. Can you bring him to the interrogation room? It’s time to ask some questions.”

She watched as several security officers escorted the Cardassian officer out of his cell and into the room. After a couple of minutes, one of them returned giving her the all-clear.  Riandru took a deep breath and walked into the room. Before she was the officer, sitting and restrained at a small table and looking a little worse for wear. He had after all been recovered from a heavily damaged ship. She sat at the table and put down a PADD and a cup of steaming liquid. “My name is Lieutenant Nalem, what is yours for the record?”

The Cardassian stared a Riandri and scowled.  He crossed his arms in defiance though remained silent.

Riandri smiled as she recognized the challenge and defiance of the officer. “You can play it that way if you like,” she said as she tapped a few points into her PADD. “I had hoped to have a pleasant conversation with you.” She leaned back in her chair and looked the Cardassian up and down before reaching to the cup and taking the lid off releasing the scene of Cardassian Red Leaf Tea, “Hope you don’t mind but needed a drink. I have been a fan of Cardassian Red Leaf Tea for, well, 60 years or so now. Came across a merchant from your homeworld who got me hooked.” She paused to take a sip as she watched the officer “I had planned on visiting Cardassia decades ago to visit dinner of the plantations but alas I was never able to make it.” Talking another do and inhaling the event of the tea she continued, “If you would like some just let me know if.”

“Gil Baxlin Gerot,” the prisoner replied without emotion.  “Weapons officer.”

Riandri smiled softly, this was barely the first step but it was a step. “Well Gil Baxlin Gerot, it is a pleasure to have met you.” She said and took a long sip of the tea, “I always loved the soft and subtle sweetness of the tea myself, never found another like it but what really surprised me was how sharp and overpowering the flavor can become if the leaves are left in to long; ruining it completely.” She watched the Gerot trying to get a read on him before continuing, “It reminds me on a way of the current situation, from what I have heard Cardassia is not becoming the perfect world the Dominion promised when they took over. Started so nicely but didn’t turn out so well after a while. Would you agree?”

“I serve Cardassia,” Gerot replied defiantly. “Whether it’s Central Command or the Founders makes little difference to me. But we will defeat you Starfleet.  Crush you under the heel of our boots and Gul Dukat will stand over the utter destruction of Earth.  It is inevitable.  As we speak there are 2,800 Dominion ships assembling on the Gamma Quadrant side of the wormhole.  You have your little mines in the way… for now.  Cardassia will defeat those mines, and when they are disabled Dominion forces will pour into the Alpha Quadrant. Cardassia will be rewarded for our loyalty… our sacrifice. And you… if you are dead you will be one of the lucky ones to escape the labor camps.  It will be good for you. Knock that smug expression off your face.”

A little smile creased Riandri’s eyes at the response from Gerot, ‘A loyalist to his supervisors it seems, a soldier who does as he is told…’ she thought.

Suddenly a hand came down Riandri’s shoulder. Cheon had appeared in the interrogation room without so much as making a sound. His dark brown eyes were cold as he looked at her. “Ensign, Brix stop recording and depart,” he said out loud to the young clerk that sat behind the mirror window. “Lieutenant, what I am about to do can not be told to anyone. Is that understood?”

A frown flashed across Riandri’s face as she was interrupted and a hand landed on her shoulder. Normally she would not allow those emotions to be seen during such an interrogation. She turned and looked up at the Commander who was standing beside her, ‘Who is this…the Captain didn’t tell me to expect anyone…’ she thought before the realization hit her, ‘I guess the XO is not missing anymore.’ She nodded towards him. “Understood, the room is yours, sir.”

He then looked at the Cardassian officer. “I sir would eat your words right about now,” he stated as he reached into a pocket in his shirt and retrieved a small object; a Tal Shair insignia. He placed it carefully on the smooth surface of the metal table, in plain view so that Gerot could see it. He then reached over and poured himself a small teacup of the Red Leaf and then after taking a sip looked at the Lieutenant, “Red Leaf?”

Riandri glanced at the insignia, instantly recognizing it for what it was but sure what it meant in this situation, ‘Was the XO a Tal Shair agent? Or was Gerot one? Best to let this play out…’ As she watched Cheon pick up a small teacup she nodded, “Yes, sir. One of my favorites. Thought Gerot here might appreciate a taste of home.”

The Cardassian stared blankly at the badge, “So what do you people call this?” He paused to think of the unfamiliar term. “Good cop, bad cop? You don’t scare me Starfleet, and a replicated Tal Shiar badge is meaningless. I can replicate an Obsidian Order badge if I wanted to.  I’m not afraid of you. The worst you can do is bore me to death. Murder and torture isn’t your way… hooman.”

Riandri rolled her eyes at that, ‘Always with the human assumption…I would happily up the anti here to get the info I, we need…’ she thought as she waited for Cheon, she assumed, to take the lead.

Cheon finished the small teacup of Red Leaf and carefully placed it on the table. As he listened to the Cardassian Officer, his face was expressionless. “Tell me Gerot,” he began, his voice deafeningly flat. “Why would an Obsidian bastard like yourself take a registered Cardassian cruiser that was actually returning to the homeworld before being ordered to join the fleet that was to attack my ship?”

Cheon’s dark, cold, brown eyes were fixed on the smooth, dull steel table the entire time he spoke. Cheon, unbeknownst to Gerot and possibly even Riandri, was creeping closer and closer to the other. When it came to interrogations, Cheon was cold and calculated, meticulous and merciless. Especially toward those who possessed information he desired and knew Gerot possessed.

Gerot leaned back in his chair. His arms remained crossed across his chest. “You still don’t impress me,” he said as if this human’s knowledge was pitiful. Though on the inside, he was terrified that he had allowed his identity to be discovered by someone other than the Order.

The coiled Cheon sprang forward, grabbed the back of the Cardassian’s head, and slammed the man’s face down onto the cold, hard, steel tabletop. The movement was so precise and unexpected that it appeared blurred. The sound of a steely thud echoed throughout the room, and the Cardassian’s face came to a halt, facing the insignia, which was only centimeters away. 

Cheon had moved his face right next to the man’s ear and said, “By the way, this insignia isn’t a replica, and is in fact mine,” For a brief moment, he allowed the words to sink into the Cardassian’s mind. “That’s right, I am the only human who has ever been granted such an honor by the Tal Shiar.”

Cheon sat up, pressing the Cardassian’s face deeper into the metal table’s surface. “Should we start over?” He looked over at Riandri to make sure she was aware of what had happened between himself and the officer.

Riandri sat back and watched the exchange with interest. She was able to keep her face emotionless as the commander slammed the Cardassians face down; though she did jump ever so slightly in her seat. She had sensed his subtle movement and figured something like that was going to happen. Though this went against the traditional star fleet regulations she was not one to mind. Gerot had the information they needed. If he was telling the truth about being the weapons officer he would know useful information. Though based on what Cheon said she had the impression Gerot was more than he appeared. ‘How does Cheon know this? Where is he getting his information fr…” she thought as Cheon leaned down and spoke. His words cut off her train of thought completely…’a human with Tal Shiar insignia?’

She looked straight at Cheon as the thought passed through her head and frowned slightly, several possible implications they could have. Could he be trusted, does SFI know about this; there had been no mention of this in the briefing she had with SFI before she came to the USS Denver. She pushed the various implications aside for later discussions and focused on what was before her. “I think Gerot may benefit from starting over Commander. It may be possible that he has now come to understand the reality of his situation.”

Looking back to the Cardassian, his face still pressed into the surface of the table. “Tell me Gerot, Shall we start over?”

Gerot sat up and wiped the blood from a broken nose.  His arrogance was gone and was replaced by fear that he tried to hide. “I don’t know what you want from me. I’m nobody.  When the captain orders the weapons fired I fire them. And if I did know something I wouldn’t betray Cardassia. I’m not a traitor.”

Riandri looked over at Cheon, a smile hidden in the corner of her eyes. “The commander may have something specific in mind that he wants to know Gerot, but myself?” she said as she leaned forward, her green eyes locking on his and a cold tone crept into her voice. “In general? I want to understand why the Dominion vessels just turned tail and ran. Why would they leave their allies such as yourself? Doesn’t seem like they are good allies or value you, does it? But what I want to know is why were your ships there. Where did your fleet stage, and gather beforehand? You may have been the weapons officer but I know that you don’t just fire the weapons. We have your ship after all; it may be dead in the water, so to say, but if the information you provide matches with what we find, your life will be easier than if it doesn’t.”

“Why?” He shrugged,  “I don’t know exactly… I know Gul Gozec and the Vorta don’t like your ship much since you escaped them at Tyra.  A clever bit of avoidance on your part.  As for leaving?  I haven’t a clue, but I expect it had something to do with a Federation fleet arriving as reinforcements.” He carefully avoided telling her where they hid along the border. That was the one bit of information that may or may not be damaging to the war effort.

Cheon shook his head as he retook his seat and leaned back in it. He grimaced on the inside as his body protested to the stimulant slowly wearing off and the internal damages started to show themselves.

Riandri looked at Gerot without expression as she spoke but logged a few details away for later, ‘Need to review the ship’s records, never got the chance properly.’ At the last bit, she cocked an eyebrow at him, “I can see that three heavily arms ships catching you unaware can be unpleasant, especially those three. But let’s circle back to that later. I am not new to this, or life on a ship. Either you give me something actionable, that broken nose will be the least of your worries.” She looked him square in the eyes, “And it won’t be the Commander her who does it. I have decades on him, centuries really, of experience to draw on when it comes to getting what I want. Right now you are what is between me and it, it is up to you if you want to be left standing at the end of it.” She leaned back without waiting for a response and calmly took another sip of her tea. “This is good,” she mused.

“You’ll have to kill me,” he said coldly.

A smile appeared slowly on Riandri’s face as her lips curled up and she exhaled as a flood of adrenaline washed over her. She stood up and walked around the table until she was standing beside him. “I had hoped you would see reason,” before Gerot could respond she hooked her foot around the chair leg and yanked it out from under him causing him to hit the table before landing on the floor. “Let us hope you reconsider as we are going to be seeing a lot of each other in the coming days. And as the Commander, here demonstrated it won’t be a fun experience.” 

Cheon stood up and placed a hand on Riandri’s shoulder. He motioned for her to follow him. Once the two of them had left the room he informed medical that a Cardassian would be heading their way. “Do me a favor Lieutenant,” he said in a low tone as he spoke to Riandri. “No interrogations of Cardassian’s without informing me and,” he looked around discreetly before continuing, “No physical contact without me present either, understood?”

Riandri looked at the commander with an expressionless face and simply nodded before following up with “Sir.”

Brig, Holding Cell 2 –

The Obsidian Order agent sat restlessly on the bunk.  Every so often she would take a moment to glare at the brig officer.   There was no helping it.  She was captured like a vole in a trap. Her nose was still broken and her right eye swollen shut with the scuffle with the Denver’s security teams, and she had refused any medical treatment. 

She shot to her feet suddenly and walked to the perimeter of the force field.  “You have nothing Starfleet,” she snarled at him.  “You have won nothing.”

“The prisoner will remain quiet,” he ordered. 

“For Cardassia!” She shouted before chomping her teeth together. Clack! Clack! The third time she stopped.   For a moment she stood motionless glaring at her enemy with unbroken defiance. Then like a marionette whose strings had been cut she crumpled to the deck lifeless. 

Annoyed the brig officer glanced at one of the other crewmen assigned to the brig. “Cover me,” he said with annoyance in his voice.   Dropping the forcefield he growled, “You better be dead or dying in there.”

Entering the cell and kneeling next to her and his eyes went wide in surprise and horror. Slapping his combadge, “Brig to Sickbay.  Medical emergency!”

“The last of the fighters have returned,” Chief Petty Officer Corran Daniels reported from the Operations station having relived Ensign Crawford. “Knight Actual is still missing in action.”

Rebecca’s heart skipped a beat.  “Cheon,” she said softly to herself.   “Miss Chapman scan the area for Commander Kyo’s fighter.”

“Aye, Captain.” Beth begins tapping on her console, trying to focus the sensors to find the transponder signal, but she got nothing. Frustrated, she turned to the old-fashioned radio beacon that every fighter possessed, calibrated to the frequency emitted by the specific starship. But in this case, nothing. “Captain, I’m not getting anything on the external sensors. There are a few things I can try, but there seems to be too much damage and interference to make a determination. I’m sorry, ma’am. I can continue to scan, but….for the moment, there’s not much I can do.” Beth’s voice is a bit more shaken…she looks down and tries to channel her worry into fixing the sensors and getting better readings. The upgrades helped, but the debris outside of the ship…was making it a true challenge.  

Rebecca nodded, “Keep doing what you can. Helm initiate standard search pattern.”

“Aye ma’am,” the woman at the helm replied.

“Ms. Chapman,  you have the bridge,” Rebecca said standing. She gave Elisabeth a nod before heading for the turbolift at the back of the bridge. 

“Aye, Captain.” After returning the nod, Elisabeth walks from her position on the bridge to the center, then takes a seat in the Captain’s chair. It was not her first time in the Captain’s chair, but the weight and expectations of the ship and crew settled on her as she led Search and Rescue efforts. “Helm, continue search pattern. OPS, see if we can’t lock onto the emergency locating transmitter (ELT) signal. Normally, these fighters have an ELT in case of emergency. I hope we can lock onto it.” Elisabeth crosses her legs as she sits in the Captain’s chair and continues to monitor the status. 

“Aye ma’am,” Chief Daniels replied.  “There is significant interference, but there’s a debris field bearing 212 mark 8.”

Sickbay-

Rebecca entered sickbay and there were injured everywhere, but it was orderly.  Rebecca glanced around but could not find Seong. Rebecca snagged the arm of a nurse that was hastily moving passed her, “Where is Docter Seong?” she asked the nurse.

The nurse paused for a moment and looked about for the doctor and then shrugged. “She might be in the Officer’s Lounge at this time since she is off duty,” the nurse stated before she dismissed herself to resume her duties.

Rebecca nodded and took off out of sickbay and headed for the nearest Officer’s Lounge. Once she entered she took a quick glance and spotted Seong sitting with another Doctor. She moved with haste as she walked over to where the two doctors were sitting,  “Commander Seong, I need a moment,” she said as she nodded toward Efe

Seong looked away from the window as she had been inwardly compartmentalizing the events of the day. She looked over at Rebecca and set down the now-cooled mug of raktajino. She realized that something was on her captain’s mind and offered her a seat. 

“What can I do for you, Captain?” 

Adrift in a Valkyrie-

Cheon knew that his fighter was dead in the water. Without thinking he disabled the ELT on his fighter. A sigh left his lips as he watched the silence of the battlefield slowly creep in. His hands slipped over the console and he brought up the ship’s technicals. ‘Oxygen levels are stable for now.’ he thought to himself as he looked through the HUD at the debris that flowed passed and around his wrecked fighter.

Sickbay-

Rebecca hesitated, sighed, and dived in head first,  “Seong… Cheon is MIA.  Scans have not been able to locate his transponder beacon and there’s too much debris to even tell if his fighter has been destroyed or not.”

On the outside, Seong looked calm, cool, and collected. A skill that she had honed to perfection over her years as a medical officer. However, on the inside, she was a raging cyclone of emotions. She knew that her husband was alive, but she also knew that he was alone and that pissed her off.

She looked at Rebecca, “Thank you, Captain,” Seong said. “I am sure that everyone is doing everything to find my husband. Again I thank you for informing me.”

Adrift in a Valkyrie-

‘Something is wrong,’ Cheon that as he checks the oxygen levels once more. He had noticed the last time that his levels were falling. He had tried to locate the damaged system but he couldn’t identify it amongst all of the damage that his fighter had sustained; not to mention that he was confined in what could be closely considered a coffin, which limited his movement.

It was then that he saw it, in the reflection of his cockpit window. The occasional spurting halfway down the hull of the fighter; the spurting reminded him of an artery having been nicked, but not fully cut; but still spewing precious fluid or in this case gas.

“This complicates things,” he said to the valkyrie.

Sickbay-

“I intend to prep and launch both of our runabouts. You are free to join one of them if you wish, but I will need your recommendation for your replacement on the away team. There’s a disabled Cardassian ship,” Rebecca said surprised at the doctor’s composure.

Seong shook her head. “I will be needed on that ship. No one else besides Efe here knows more about Cardassian physiology than me. I can treat the wounded and stabilize them on that ship before transporting them back here,” she stated as she stood up and walked over to a bulkhead-sized window and stared out into the darkness of space. Her attention was then shifted over to the smoldering carnage of the battlefield. She knew that somewhere out there her husband sat in silence amongst the debris of the ship and fighters.

Rebecca had to admire the woman and her dedication to duty.  She wasn’t sure she would be able to prioritize the Denver over Milo.  In fact, she was certain of that, and she was also pretty sure she was okay with that too. She loved the man despite rarely spending any time with him.  He was after all the twins’ father, and she loved Ethan as her own.

“Well Doctor,” the captain started, “you better get suited up. Ensign Crawford is already over there.”

Seong nodded to the captain and headed for sickbay to gather her gear before she headed to the transporter pad.

Adrift in a Valkyrie-

‘Alert, alert.’

Cheon silenced the alert once more before it told him how much oxygen was left. The fighter had already accessed the reserve tank minutes ago. He already knew how much time he had left as the HUD, which was still up, displayed it for him; two minutes.

Cheon watched as the debris slowly thinned out. He knew then that he was close to the edge of the battlefield. He also knew that he was nearing the furthest edge of the passive scanners of the Denver. He knew that his fate was closing in.

USS Mialoss-

Ensign Lonar Lott stared down at the navigational controls of his runabout.  He banked the little ship to the left to skirt around a decent size piece of debris.  There was sweat on the brow of Bolian’s skin. The cockpit of the ship obviously was a comfortable temperature but flying around in and around wrecked ships and fighters was a bit more than he was prepared for. He hadn’t even officially graduated from the Academy yet being shoved out the door and right into the front lines.  Last week he was enjoying leisurely walks on the Academy grounds and a mere few days later he was moments from death.

Lieutenant Halfcock stepped out of the rear of the runabout and into the cockpit. She looked at Lonar. “Ensign, if you don’t relax you’re going to strain something,” she said as she took the copilot seat. She had felt his tension long before they had left the Denver and knew that he was nervous about being in the cold darkness of space. “Just remember that we are searching for our lost Commander and that our success will be determined by your abilities to stay relaxed and focused on the scans that the Mialoss is giving us.”

“Of course sir,” Ensign Lott replied.   He adjusted the heading of the runabout to dip below a chunk of a Jem’Hadar fighter still trailing plasma smoke.

Halfcock nodded to the Ensign. “This is your first away mission, outside of sims, isn’t it?” she asked him as her fingers flew over the console that was in front of her. 

The Bolian nodded, “It is. How are we going to find survivors in this?”

The Lieutenant had been wondering about that herself. She could see the Ensign’s point as they flew through the debris field. Even the sensors and passive scanners were having difficulty plotting a safeish course. “I have faith,” she stated as she once more tapped on the console sending out another scan.

Suddenly there was a ping on the extreme edge of their scanners range. 

“Ensign, head to this point,” she stated and sent him the cords.

The Bolian nodded and plotted the course.  The blip was behind a cluster of asteroids and he skillfully “threaded the needle” between two house-sized chunks of space rocks. He glanced over his shoulder with a smirk,  “I was at the top of my class.”

A fist-sized rock smashed into the runabouts’ shields, causing them to flare bright blue. Halfcock shook her head, staring at the Bolian. “You did say top of your class, but not number one.  I see why,” she mentioned as she returned her gaze to the console, attempting to clear the signal from the ping ahead of them.

“Ensign, kindly double-check the most recent scans,” she requests. “If I’m not mistaken, we’re almost out of the debris field, and I’ve got my eye on a sizable federation alloy. However, no ELT is being transmitted,” said Halfcock.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Lott replied circling a large asteroid. “I think there’s an abnormally large concentration of Kemocite in these rocks. That explains why the sensors are all over the place,” He replied. “There it is.  Duranium, Tritanium, and other Federation materials.” He banked the runabout and cut the impulse engines and used inertia to close the gap. If there were survivors the last thing he wanted to do was make a bug on the viewscreen out of them.

The Edge of the Debris-

As he sat there, Cheon’s vision began to blur. An alert constantly blared in the background, alerting him to the fact that the oxygen level was dangerously low. He peered out the cockpit of the Valkyrie into the vastness of deep space. His thoughts turned to his wife and daughter, Jolie. Sadness washed over him when he realized he wouldn’t get to see his daughter grow up.

His passive scanner suddenly pinged on his console. Cheon blinked his eyes, attempting to clear his blurry vision. Even with his vision blurred, he noticed the Federation icon on the console. He let out a sigh of relief as he realized he was going to be fine. He closed his eyes and let the fatigue caused by low oxygen levels take over.

USS Mialoss-

As the runabout slowed, the viewscreen revealed the wreckage of a valkyrie, and Halfcock could see Cheon through the cockpit.

“Mister Lott, turn us around and put us in front of that Valkyrie.” “Then extend the shields to cover it,” she said, leaping from her copilot’s seat and sprinting to the rear hatch.

“Let me know when the shields are in place,” Halfcock said as she turned to look to the front.

Lonar Lott stumbled over the unpracticed commands slowly tapping out the buttons and checking himself.   Finally, he completed the order and pressed the comm button on the console,  “Lieutenant, the shields are extended.”

Halfcock opened the rear hatch as soon as she realized the shields had been extended around the valkyrie. She then dashed out of the runabout and over to the Valkyries cockpit. Anyone watching this would have thought she had thrown herself out of the back of the runabout, but it was pure instinct for her to reach her Commander. She reached out and pulled on an emergency release lever, which was released by several small explosions along the cockpit. She reached in and unhooked the harness, yanking the semiconscious Cheon from the craft. 

Halfcock began scanning Cheon’s body with a medical tricorder from a medical kit on board a few moments later, with the rear of the runabout sealed. Though she knew the fundamentals from her academy training, she could see that his heart rate was slow, which had been caused by the low levels of oxygen in the cockpit, and that hypoxia had just begun.

She reached for a hypospray and, following the instructions on the tricorder, administered a sedative to prevent further harm to him. She yells, looking forward toward the cockpit of the runabout.

“Lott, get us out of here and back to Denver. Inform them that we have the XO and that a medical team is needed to meet us in the main shuttle bay.”

Lonar entered the command into the helm and the runabout launched forward at full impulse… a nearly suicidal speed considering the natural and no so natural obstacles in the way.  He rolled and twisted the ship around asteroids and under the hulk of a Dominion ship, the hull groaning as the inertial dampers struggled to keep up.

Once they broke free into open space he hailed the Denver, “Mialoss to Denver,  we have located Commander Kyo and are heading back to the ship.  Have a medical team meet us a the shuttle bay.”

“That’s good news,” Rebecca replied over the comm, “I already have sickbay responding. Be safe Ensign, and get back in one piece.”

“Understood, Mialoss out.”  Lott glanced over his shoulder, “How’s he doing Lieutenant?  ETA… one minute twenty seconds.”

Halfcock looked over to Lott. “He’s stable for now, but he is going to need medical attention soon.”

Shuttle Bay, USS Denver –

The runabout Mialoss glided through the open bay door with a buzz as it crossed through the forcefield.  A deck officer directed the smaller auxiliary ship to a landing pad that would actually lower it into a hanger bay below the deck for servicing.

Ensign Lonar Lott let out a sigh of relief as he skillfully set the runabout down on the deck and powered down the engines. As the hum died down he entered he commands to open the external hatch and rotated his seat to face Halfcock, “Now what?”

Without waiting for the ramp to fully extend down to the deck, Halfcock was already halfway down the ramp. As soon as her foot hit the deck she carried Cheon over to a waiting medical team. She informed them of his current condition before she turned to look at the Ensign.

“Good job, Lott,” she said before placing a hand on the young Bolian’s shoulder. “I’ll be sure to place a commendation in for you.”

“Thank you ma’am,” he said with a smile.

About the title 

During World War II the United States Navy used “Dumbo” as a code name for air-sea-rescue operations. Long-range aircraft,  such as the PBY Catalina, would scour the South Pacific in search of downed pilots and stranded sailors.

Trejon Prol had mostly recovered from his injuries thanks to Doctor Kyo.  He had found himself on a ship called the Denver. It was far more cushy than what he was accustomed to aboard Cardassian ships. But these Starfleeters weren’t military-focused. Which, is probably why the Dominion was doing so well against them.

When he came to in sickbay the day before, Prol had told their intelligence officer everything he knew: from troop deployments, ship strength, and disposition.   Everything.  The Dominion needed to be expelled from Cardassia, and Dukat removed from power. 

After his treasonous conversation with Lt. Nalam, he asked for asylum, which had been conditionally granted only a few hours ago.  He still wasn’t given free rein of the ship; he would have been suspicious if they had, but he could still move about the crew levels.  As a precaution, security disabled his replicator,  which was an annoyance but understandable; they didn’t trust him. 

He got looks, and people moved away from him when he entered the officer’s lounge on deck 10.  He ordered a drink and a small plate of Bajoran offerings at the bar, and when the proprietor served him, he turned to scan the lounge.   At one of the tables on the far side next to the massive windows sat a pair of familiar faces. With tray and drink in hand, he crossed the lounge to stand before the officers. “Excuse me, may I join you?”

Riandri was slowly finding her feet aboard the USS Denver after the last three days. Given a bit more time she thought she could fit in well; there were good people here. But she had to admit there was a challenge to slotting into a new ship, especially one that had seen and been through so much.  She leaned back and rolled her head, sending her blond ponytail to swing behind her head before she looked over at Crawford, the Chief of Operations. She was still getting to know the senior staff, but for an ensign to hold such a position, he had to be good at what he did. Before she could carry on the conversation, she saw Prol approach out of the corner of her eye. As he spoke, she turned to him, “Fine by me, Prol. How are you settling in? Your quarters ok?” She had to admit, she liked the man, he was competent, and most importantly, he recognized the danger the dominion represented not to just the Federation and the Klingons but to every system within the alpha and beta quadrants. That and he was an intelligence goldmine when considered alongside the disabled cruiser and Gerot, who was in detention.

Prol slid into an empty seat sitting ramrod straight. “Thank you. As far as settling in… as well as one can expect, considering I represent your enemy.  I would be suspicious otherwise, but it does not make this any easier.”

Peter Crawford gave Prol a polite nod.  Things on the Denver were…interesting with him around. They were even more interesting with the new intelligence officer on board. Her record spoke for itself, and he was always leery of intelligence or even special operations folks – he kept to the mainstays of operations and wasn’t particularly interested in the darker sides of the fleet and its operation.  He took a drink of his iced tea, “War makes friends and fiends of us all.”  He shrugged, “The history of the universe shows us that enemies can be friends…and the other way around.  Hell, it wasn’t that long ago in our history that we made contact with the Romulans.  Kirk’s time isn’t ancient…and someday soon, this stuff will be the same thing.”

Prol spoke up. “The Dominion is not to be trusted. I am not the only Cardassian that feels Dukat has made a bad bargain that will lead us to ruin. But, after the war with the Klingons, there were too many who were willing to sell their souls, hoping to return Cardassia to its former glory.   Those days are gone. Gone forever,  and maybe that’s for the best. I admit that the Bajoran Occupation was an atrocity and a product of that old way of thinking.   Bury the past, but you don’t do that by aligning yourself with a people who commit their own atrocities.  We’re a proud people, so change is difficult,  but that time has come.”

Crawford blinked and turned his head to the intelligence officer, who he hoped would have a well-thought-out response to the deep statement the Cardassian had laid out.

Riandri sat quietly and stared out the massive window as she listened to them both. Something about those words resonated with her and brought back images, memories she would love to have buried so deep she never thought about them again. – Pale sickly green light, cubes, screams, a burning red ribbon riping through space, her home and family, cold metal decks, her husband leaving for the last time, the borg… – She absently wiped a tear from her cheek and took a breath as she pushed the memories away. “Change may be difficult but it is one of the sole constants in the universe, I believe one of you philosophers, Heraclitus I think,” Riandri said as she looked back towards the pair, nodding towards Crawford. She paused for a moment as she tried to put her thoughts together, “Running from change, trying to hold on to what was, be it lost, taken, left behind, never replaces what was. Its memories just turn rotten and eat away at you, destroying who and what you are until there is nothing left.” A sad smile crossed her face, “You are right Prol to a degree, one must accept change and understand that everything, be it the empire’s glory, or whatever passes, changes. But it is important to never bury the past, otherwise, we are doomed to repeat it. Again and again.” She paused and took a sip of the coffee she had in from of her before smiling again at the two.

Prol stared at the intelligence officer for a moment,  “You’ve experienced loss haven’t you?”

Riandri turned back to look out the window and didn’t say anything for a moment before looking back at Prol, “Loss fails to utterly comprehend the scope. But yes.” After a moment she let out a snort. “God, that made it sound dramatic. It’s not something I speak about often but in a nutshell yeah. It can be summed up with two words. The Borg.”

Prol nodded.  He couldn’t think of a much worse fate, “You must be El-Aurians.”

“Not many people even know about my race,” Riandri said, a distant smile crossing her face. “Much less a Cardassian, though my people have crossed paths with yours in the past. How do you know of my kind?”

Prol shrugged, “My father was a merchant captain for the Brannanite Alliance, and his XO was an El-Aurian.  I had an unconventional childhood.”

Riandri cocked an eyebrow at that, beyond the handful who she had travelled with and ended up on Earth with she had heard very little of others of her kind in the last hundred or so years. “Really, I would love to hear more about that at some point Prol. I know very few of my own people.” Riandri paused for a moment and looked at Crawford, “I assume you already knew, is that right?” she said with a smile.

Crawford chuckled and took a sip of his drink, “They’re listeners.  Watchers of history.  The vastness of the universe and history is their experience.”  He nodded to Riandri, “I’m a reader…I study and explore in my spare time.  The amount of loss you can experience in your lifetime is…unthinkable.  The events you and your people have witnessed…I would have a hard time imagining reconciling experiencing the entirety that you experience…and continue to experience.”  He gave a glance to Prol, “I’ve read stories written by El Aurians.  They are the true witnesses and listeners of existence.”  He raised his glass to the new intelligence officer, “To you, Lieutenant – to our shared loss and shared joys.” 

Prol stared blankly at the odd gesture, but after a moment he raised his cup, “Indeed.”

Riandri let out a short chuckle and raised her cup, “I can drink to that. Thank you.”