Walking into the emergency triage room, Rear Admiral Diane Paulsen looked around the almost empty room before finding the person she was searching for. Though this area had originally been one of Poseidon’s cargo bays, it now had a clinical feel. When they had designated it as an extra space for sickbay to use at the start of the war, they had put up a series of foldup beds. They weren’t meant to be there for long-term use; however, the war had changed things. Now they had set up proper side-beds that were typically used in sickbay. Not only had the ship taken on board their own injured but those of colleagues from fallen ships. Paulsen had never understood why Starfleet had made their sickbays so small and their medical department so tiny compared to others. After becoming an admiral, she had pulled a few strings. She had been able to expand her medical staff to include another doctor, two more nurses and several more healthcare assistants. She was looking for her second medical officer and had found out that he was in the process of reviewing the supplies in the triage room. Though she was bitter about what she was going to chat to him about, she knew it would make his day. 

“Edward, are you free?” She called out to him. 

Turning around to face the tall, slim woman approaching him, Lieutenant Edward Branson stopped what he was doing after hearing the admiral’s voice. “Aye, ma’am,” He answered instantly in his thick Scottish accent. “Are you okay?” He wondered if she was coming to him with a health concern. 

Raising one hand to shake off his concern, she stopped just before him. Edward Branson was a tall, muscular man. He stood at almost five foot eleven inches and had dark sandy-coloured hair. His pale blue eyes twinkled against the floodlights hanging from the cargo bay’s ceiling.  “I’m fine, thanks, Ed. I’ve got some news for you.”

“Oh?” He asked, intrigued to know more. 

She passed the data tablet to him and clarified what it was. “Your days shadowing an experienced chief medical officer are now over; Starfleet has authorised you to take on your own sickbay.”

Surprised at hearing that news, the young doctor first looked down at the tablet and then back to his superior. “I dunno what to say, ma’am.” He shook his head. “I cannae believe it.”

“Believe it, doctor, you’ll be leaving us to join my old first officer on his ship,” Paulsen stated. “Plus, you’ll get to wear two full silver pips on that shoulder.” She said, indicating to his right shoulder. 

“Thank you, ma’am,” Branson said with a proud smile. “When do I report to Captain Campbell?”

“Endeavour is on its way back from Earth; we’ll be leaving Starbase One tonight after picking up a few more personnel and supplies before rendezvousing with them tomorrow.” Paulsen smiled at him. “Edward, you’re ready for this, and I know when you join Ollie’s ship, you’ll be right at home.”

“I appreciate the opportunity, ma’am; I promise not to let you down.” He stated.

“See that you don’t!” She teased with a wink before leaving him. 

After the admiral left, he checked the cargo bay to ensure he was alone. Immediately he jumped up in the air and celebrated with a cheer. He was finally getting his own sickbay, and he couldn’t wait.

Stepping into the starboard armoury, Paulsen found the next person she was searching for. “Lieutenant Gasset, a moment, please.” She said to the second armoury officer.

Standing up from the deck plating, where she was sitting while conducting maintenance to one of the torpedo launchers, Lieutenant Gasset smiled sweetly at her superior. “Admiral, this is a pleasure. How can I assist you?” Gasset’s tightly curled black hair sat around her head close and didn’t move as she got up. She placed her tools down on the side and wiped her hands down her jumpsuit before approaching the admiral. 

 “Monica, I’ve got some news about your transfer request,” Paulsen said before passing a tablet to her. 

Amazed at that news, Gasset took the tablet. “Ma’am, I only put it in last week after I saw that Starfleet was requesting for more officers to offer elsewhere in the fleet.”

Smirking at how Gasset was trying to avoid hurting her superior’s feelings, Paulsen placed a reassuring hand on the armoury officer’s shoulder. “Monica, you’ve got nothing to be worried about. I am gutted we are losing you, but this transfer is one I am more than happy to stomach.”

“Oh?” Gasset wondered. “Is it a good one? Am I allowed to ask that?”

Chuckling somewhat, Paulsen nodded. “I can promise you now, it is. I know the captain extremely well, and I am certain you will be pleased.” 

Looking at the tablet, Gasset’s eyes got bigger at seeing it. “Oh my, there must be some mistake here.”

“No mistake,” Paulsen assured her. 

“Chief Armoury Officer on the Endeavour?” Gasset questioned. “Really?”

“Really!” Paulsen repeated with an affirmative nod.

“I am shocked,” Gasset commented. “I never thought I’d be given such a posting.”

“Captain Campbell requires a few good people to help him out,” Paulsen stated, “Your record with us on Poseidon has been nothing but excellent. I won’t lie when I say we will miss you, but you’ve got this, Monica.”

“Thank you, ma’am, just thank you!” Gasset replied with a huge smile. “May I give you a hug?”

Laughing at that request, Paulsen nodded, and within a second of allowing it, Gasset jumped up in the air somewhat as she embraced the flag officer. 

In the private confines of her office, the intercom went off, interrupting Admiral Paulsen as she sipped on her mug of coffee while working. “Bridge to Admiral Paulsen,” spoke her first officer and communications officer. 

Placing her mug down, she tapped on the nearby communications panel. “Go ahead, Austin.”

“Ma’am, I’ve finally been able to get in range of Endeavour. I’ve got Captain Campbell for you on subspace.” Commander Austin Schott reported.

“Pipe him down here.” She ordered. 

Seconds later, her desktop console came to life, and the image of her former first officer filled it. “Rear Admiral Paulsen, what a delight.”

“Captain Campbell, the same can be said right back at you,” Paulsen said in a cheerful tone.

“Austin said it was important you spoke to me,” Campbell stated. “Is everything okay?” 

“All is well,” She confirmed with a nod before carrying on. “I wanted to tell you the news that we’ll be rendezvousing with you tomorrow.”

“That’s unexpected, ma’am. May I ask how comes?”

“Your fairy godmother has fulfilled your request for new senior officers.” She said, pulling a wry smile at that last phrase. “I’m reassigning two of my officers to the Endeavour, and I’ve got someone from the Atlantis for you.”

“Wow, thank you, ma’am. That’s great to hear.” Campbell said with an appreciative tone. “What will it cost me?”

“Nothing…for now.” She answered with a cheeky wink. “How about a decent dinner with your senior staff and that gorgeous husband of yours to help welcome your new additions, and we’ll call it evens?”

“That I can do.” 

“Excellent, see you tomorrow evening then. Paulsen out.” She tapped the nearby keyboard and closed the channel before picking up her mug of coffee, happy that she could sort out one ship in the fleet before she had to get back to solving more problems across the vessels in her command. 

Josh decided it was time to start getting into better shape, so he started visiting the ship’s gym during his off time.

The gym was located in one of the lesser used cargo bays. There was much equipment, only enough room for 2 treadmills, 2 exercise bikes, 2 weight stations and a body bag, suspended from the ceiling.

Usually, there were no other members of the crew in the gm when he was there. He liked it that way…that meant he could do what he wanted, when he wanted, without having to wait for someone to finish.

He always started his routine the same way….ten minutes of stretching and warming up. He moved to one of the exercise bikes, presses the ‘start’ button and set the controls for the lowest setting. Five minutes into the twenty minute session, he touched the speed control setting to go higher every two minutes, until it reached the most top level.

When he was done, he sat for five minutes, wiping his forehead and drinking water from the bottle he brought with him.

When the five minutes were up, he moved to the weight station, first was an arm press, starting at twenty pounds. With each successful rep, the machine added five pounds to the weight. When the weight reached twentyfive pounds, he switched to the other arm, and started the set all over again. 

When that set was done, he programmed the computer to switch to a arm curl. Setting the computer for the correct starting weight, he grabbed the bar with both hands, and then the computer started the set. This time, the beginning weight was twentyfive pounds, with the computer adding five pounds for every other curl, with the maximum weight to be one hundred and seventyfive pounds.

Finishing the last 5 curls, Josh was struggling…but he made it through, and after the last curl, he put the bar back in it’s place, then sat down, wiping the sweat from his eyes and finishing what water was left in his bottle. Lucky for him, he brought a second bottle with him.

Josh rested for 15 minutes, and when he was ready, he stepped onto the treadmill, setting for a normal walking pace. and started the machine. 

He stayed at the normal walking pace for twenty minutes, then started increasing the pace every ten minutes, until he was at a fast running pace. The readout on the machine showed his heart rate, respiration, and blood pressure. The computer would slow or stop the machine if the readouts went over a pre-set level. His blood pressure was slightly levitated, his breathing was rapid and his heart rate was leviated, but not approaching the ‘redline’. 

Every time he used the treadmill, over the two weeks he started coming to the gym, he set the treadmill for longer run times. 

He was now up to a fortyfive minute run.

Approaching the end of his run, all his readings were approaching the automatic shut down level. But he pushed through, and finished. Exhausted, he sat on the floor, and started getting his breathing under control.

Why was he doing this? He wanted to get into better shape. He wanted to show the captain that he could be an important part of any mission that came around.

He kep records of his workouts. He lost twent five pounds of body fat. His pant size drop from a thirty six waist, to a thirty waist. His forearms and biceps were more toned. He had to request new uniforms from the Quartermaster.

He was proud of what he’s been doing.

>end

“Captain’s starlog, May twelfth, twenty-one-fifty-seven. We have rendezvoused with the Poseidon ahead of schedule. I must admit, seeing my old ship brings back some good memories from my time serving on her as its first officer and chief helm officer. That said, I am appreciative of my former mentor and superior for finding the final three members to complete my senior staff. How Admiral Paulsen does it, I will never know.”

Walking down the corridor, hand-in-hand with Trommler, Captain Campbell had a smile beaming across his face. 

“You’re certainly in a good mood,” Trommler commented to his husband as they turned down a junction. “Especially for someone who is about to meet their third chief medical officer, fourth chief armoury officer and sixth chief engineer.”

Ignoring the comment from his husband, Campbell shrugged his shoulders. “I know what you mean, Fynn, but we’re not the only ship in the fleet that hasn’t had a rapid change of staff. Anyway, I’m feeling positive about those who are about to join us.”

“You said that the last time,” Trommler stated.

Campbell sighed, “I know.”

Approaching the airlock, Trommler slowly let go of Campbell’s hand to avoid appearing too inappropriate in front of the assembled senior staff. Stepping back while Campbell headed to the front, Trommler walked over and nodded to his superior, Major Caidin. 

Caidin acknowledged the nod with one of her own; her muscles and nerves finally relaxed and recovered after the shoreleave on Risa.

Seeing that the Poseidon was not docked with them yet, Campbell looked at his first officer. “Ready to meet our recruits, Number One?”

“I would have hoped a ship like the Endeavour would be sent senior officers with more leadership experience,” Leonov drawled with her usual lack of satisfaction with more or less anything that didn’t meet her exacting standards. “So we’ll have to see if it’s them who’s ready.”

“Fingers crossed.” He whispered.

Moments later, the sound of gentle hissing and mechanical locks being activated were heard. Everyone went quiet as they stood to attention. Campbell nodded to Randall to do the honours of opening the airlock before he looked to Ricci, who had the boatswain whistle ready.

Josh looked at the readouts, making sure everything was operating within the norm. Then when the green light came on, he pressed the button, and the airlock started to open.

Antione knew the protocol quite well from doing the same task many times. It had been all too regular lately, with new people arriving more often than he had been used to. He blew the boatswain whistle in almost perfect sync with the doors opening. He stood there watching as the guest arrived.

The airlock door swished open, allowing for their guests to step through. First through was Rear Admiral Paulsen, followed by three new faces to the Endeavour’s crew. 

“Admiral on deck!” Campbell called a bit louder than usual. 

Everyone stood to attention.

Smiling at the formality, the admiral waved her hands. “At ease, everyone, please,” She turned to Campbell and hugged him. “It’s good to see you, Ollie,” She said.

“Likewise, ma’am,” Campbell replied as he hugged her back. They soon let go, and Campbell began introductions to everyone around him. 

Stepping back, she turned to the woman beside Campbell, “Ah, this is the woman I hear is keeping my former first officer out of trouble. Commander Leonov, it’s a pleasure to meet you finally.” She offered her hand to the commander.

“Likewise, ma’am.” Leonov’s handshake was as brisk as ever. “And we appreciate the attention and support you’ve shown the Endeavour these recent missions.”

“Endeavour is a fine ship with a fine crew; it’s only right she is honoured the right way,” Paulsen remarked.  

Campbell then extended his arm towards Ricci’s direction. “You remember, Lieutenant Ricci, my chief communications officer and protocol officer.”

Nodding, Paulsen smiled at the man in the teal uniform. “How could I forget? It’s good to see you again, Lieutenant. How are you?”

Ricci smiled. “I have been well, Admiral. Life here on the Endeavour is certainly an adventure, but I wouldn’t change it for anything; in fact, I think the adventure keeps me young at heart.” He smiled.

“And, of course, you know my chief helm officer, Lieutenant Joshua Randall,” Campbell stated.

“Absolutely,” Paulsen said, still with her friendly expression across her face, “Lieutenant, you wouldn’t believe how much I’ve heard good things about you from your captain. I promise you, that’s high praise from my former chief helm officer too!”

“Thank you, admiral, that’s nice to hear,” Randall snapped back to attention when he finished responding to the admiral.

Campbell then went on to introduce the admiral to his MACO detachment commander. “Then this is Major Saorise Hess-Caidin.”

“Major, I’ve read your record; it’s an honour to meet you,” Paulsen said as she shook the major’s hand.

”Thank you, sir.” The Major replied. “It’s good to know my record still leaves an honouring impression even after being out of the field for so long.”

“And then you know these two!” Campbell remarked with a smirk as he led Paulsen to Trommler and Knight, who stood further away from the airlock.

Again she embraced both men separately before introducing the three figures she had brought with her. “Now, let me introduce Lieutenant Commander Xiang Shu, Lieutenant Monica Gasset and Lieutenant Edward Bronson. Your new chief engineer, chief armoury officer and chief medical officer, respectively.”

Campbell smiled at each of them. “It’s great to meet and have you all with us.” He turned to the rest of his senior staff before looking back at their newest members. “We’re excited about having you with us, so we’ve had a meal prepared for you.”

”Pleasure to be here, sir,” Shu replied, the Australian twang not nearly as hard as stereotypes would lead most to believe. “Glad to get back out here, to be honest.”

The other two remained quiet, just smiling instead. 

“If no one has objections, shall we make our way to our conference room and enjoy what our chef has prepared?” Campbell suggested before leading the group towards where their meal awaited them. 

While the meal was being finalised and brought up, a few stewards had prepared a few drinks for the senior staff. 

“Scotch whisky, how did you get the real thing?” Paulsen asked as she took one of the drinks from the stewards. “Especially in wartime?”

“Admiral, you never ask a Scotsman where he gets his whisky from,” Campbell told her with a grin. 

“I’ll drink to that.” Doctor Branson said as he raised his glass.

Trommler looked at the doctor and instantly recognised the accent. “Do I detect another Scotsman in our presence?”

“That ya do,” Branson answered. “Is that a problem?”

“Absolutely not; I’m married to the most senior one in the room.” Trommler indicated toward Campbell before waving his wedding ring.

A few of the staff chuckled at the exchange. 

Campbell looked at Leonov, “Number One, would you mind doing a small speech welcoming our new members?”

Leonov gave him a sidelong look for only the briefest of moments, before checking her glass was charged. She did not get to her feet, and the glass of whisky was lifted in one sharp, crisp movement. “Officers.” Her eyes swept along the three new senior staff, gaze piercing and cold. “You may think you’re ready for an assignment like the Endeavour. I can promise you that you’re not. We stand at the frontier not only of this devastating war, but known space. Anything can happen – and will happen. You will not expect it. And it will take the legs out from under you.”

There was a moment where she paused, eyes still on them, and those who didn’t know Leonov – or perhaps those who did – might have thought the greeting would end on such a cheery note. Her expression did not brighten as she continued. “But this crew has not been victorious by seeing these challenges coming. This crew has been victorious by trusting one another, helping each other up, and standing together. Bringing us – you – together like that has been Captain Campbell’s duty and privilege.” Now there was the faintest hint of a smile hovering some distance from her lips. “It’s mine to train, test, and prepare you within an inch of your lives so when the unexpected happens, you don’t break. I know all three of you will meet my expectations.”

A year ago, two, Leonov might have ended it there. But now she tilted her glass a mere inch to the newcomers. “To standing together. Na zdorovie!”

“Na zdorovie!” Campbell echoed, as did most everyone else in the room as they raised their glasses before taking a drink from them. 

After an introduction and welcome like that, Shu looked at her own raised glass of whiskey, mouth pursed to one side in thought, before she spoke. “Gānbēi,” she said with honest cheer and downed the entire lot with only a slight wince right afterwards. “Smooth,” she half gasped. “Please tell me there’s someone on this ship younger than this drop at least.” Her glass was held such that a steward could refill, though politely cut short, enough to charge the glass for any other toasts to come and sip at lightly.

Campbell, hearing his new chief engineer ask about the drink, walked over to her. “I’m afraid that’s the best we have. As the admiral said, this is war!”

“Don’t worry, commander, when Endeavour returns home, we’ll make sure to speak to some of the captain’s family who are in the whiskey business and see what strings they can pull,” Trommler said smirking. 

Antione chuckled at the speech to himself it was well known that the First Officer wasn’t always the person you went to if you wanted a bubbly personality, but she was respected and Antione enjoyed talking to her. He walked up to her with glass of whiskey in hand. He rose the glass “Well done, Commander! I have to ask though after the last mission how are you holding up? I know that was a rough one for all of us?”

Overhearing the question, Admiral Paulsen interjected, “I heard Risa was quite pleasant for you all?” She asked the communications officer. “Did the captain miss something off his report?”

Ricci shook his head “No Admiral, I was being sarcastic because it was so relaxing. I apologize if that misled you to think different.”

”Personally, while probably a necessary and overall welcome change of pace, I couldn’t help but feel unease myself…” The Major interjected after downing her whiskey in a single take and swallowing what would have otherwise been the resulting burp. “…reminded me a bit too much like an intensive physiotherapy routine…only with prettier nursing staff.”

Paulsen laughed at the remarks from Campbell’s staff before sipping on her own drink.  

Before entering the room, Josh let all the senior officers precede him but in front of the enlisted personnel. When the toast came, he raised his glass, he doesn’t usually drink hard liquor, but he decided it wouldn’t look good if he didn’t toast to the ship and the crew, so he downed his drink in one gulp and immediately started coughing. 

Approaching the captain, Lieutenant Gasset held her glass tightly. “Sir, I hope you don’t mind but I heard you were ex-military yourself before joining Starfleet?”

Smiling at his new armoury officer, Campbell confirmed her question. “I was, I was a pilot in the R-A-F.”

“Heck, rate things are going,” Shu said, butting into the conversation with a smile, “most national militaries are likely going the way of the dinosaur.” She snapped her right fingers together once, leaving one finger pointed to the ceiling. “Lieutenant Gasset, USN, right?” Yes they’d come on the same transport to Endeavour, but the trip hadn’t exactly been a social event itself.

”That seems to be not an uncommon story for Starfleet these days.” Saorise Hess-Caidin chimed in. “Used to be if a Terrestial military soldier was getting recruited to go space side, it was into the MACOs…military to military…we even had our own special RAP…er…rapid acclimation program, for it. Hell, one of my earlier COs had been pulled straight from the Canadian Mounties of all places, bright red uniform and all…

”Now? Sign of the times I guess…Starfleet‘s pulling not just from the sciences and boomers on a much grander scale…who knows, with all the combat roles that the Fleet needs, maybe even the MACOs might start being asked to trade in our browns for those purple jumpsuits…pass the salad, please?”

Campbell didn’t say much between the exchange until the major finished. “I understand where the commander is coming from,” He said indicating towards Shu, “But the whole purpose of the Earth Global Defence Force is for national militaries to work together for the greater good, but with Starfleet growing, I’m not surprised people from all walks of life are signing up. Starfleet was never meant to be a branch of the Commonwealth’s military, but with the way things with the war have gone on, I suppose a bit of war spirit has entered most people in wanting to fight for what we’ve built.”

“Most of the MACO recruits in the past few years have been because of the Xindi crisis and the war with the Romulans,” Trommler noted. 

Gasset, appreciated the conversation with her new crewmates, “Well all I was going to say, was it was nice to know I’m not the only one on the ship who skipped most of Starfleet Training Command.”

“Don’t worry lieutenant, I’m with you on that one too,” Branson said as picked up some food from the small dishes that had various nibbly bits on them. “Starfleet fast-tracked my application after I joined. My various degrees and status within the I-M-E-P granted me my commission.”

Paulsen interjected then, “However, you’ve both spent the last year moulding what you know and learning on the job. You shouldn’t knock what you bring to the table.”

“I’m not, ma’am, but I can see that Starfleet is keen to fill in gaps,”  Branson admitted in between a mouthful of food. “It’s war and every able person needs to do their part.” 

Josh put his glass down on the table and started looking around the room to see if he could see if there was anyone else who felt out of place at the gathering. Josh started walking around the room and stopped when he saw someone sitting at a table alone. He walked over to Ricci and said. “Excuse me. How do you feel about us returning to Earth so quickly?” he asked him.

Antione appeared lonely when in fact he was trying to hide the fact he was eying up the delicious nibbles on the serving table. He made sure no one was looking as he scanned the table it may seem ridiculous but he needed the extra time what with one eye. His ogling of the food was interrupted by a voice.  

Ricci smiled trying to be friendly though he had other things on his mind “I can’t say for sure, but with the arrival of the Admiral…we might not be returning to Earth.” He looked back at the table “Now if you‘ll excuse me I see someone calling my name.“ He said acting like he was walking toward someone making sure he wasn’t being watched before grabbing some food.

Moments later the stewards returned with more food for Campbell and his guests to enjoy. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, please enjoy!” Campbell said after everything was laid out on the serving table for them to help themselves with. 

Impressed with the spread, Doctor Branson complimented the catering team. “Captain, my thanks to your chef and their team for an impressive array of food.”

“This all looks lovely,” Gasset added as she picked up a plate. “Are we going to be treated to such yummy delights every day?

“You’re welcome,” Campbell replied with a smile before he answered Gasset. “And yes, be expected to be spoiled and to use the gym often!”

The three officers chuckled. 

Clearing her throat, Paulsen spoke up to the whole crowd. “Before we start to eat, I just wanted to let you all know that later on, I’ll be briefing Captain Campbell and Commander Leonov with your new orders and I’m happy to say that Endeavour will get the chance to go and explore a new star system.”

Everyone smiled at hearing that news and a few of them clapped.

“I know the constant fighting and diplomatic efforts you’ve undertaken recently have been challenging, but I hope this change of pace will help,” Paulsen stated. 

“Admiral, will we still be returning to Earth?” Trommler asked.

“After this mission, then hopefully yes, Fynn!” She answered. “Now shall we get stuck in here?” She gestured towards the buffet they was now waiting for them. 

Antione was not like most officers. He took his duty as protocol officer to include even new members on the Endeavor. The latest members to arrive he had yet to speak to. His job sometimes pulled him in many different directions, but he eventually made time to do what he felt was necessary, even if it wasn’t technically his job.  

He arrived at Sickbay and cleared his throat. “Hello, I am Lieutenant Antione Ricci, the ship’s communication and protocol officer. I am just wanting to make sure you’re settling in nicely.” He said with a smile.  

Doctor Branson was working on unpacking some more of his belongings when he heard the doors to his new dwelling open. Looking around the shelves, he was loading; he eventually saw his visitor. After Ricci introduced himself, Edward copied his smile. “Thanks for stopping by, lieutenant; we met the other day at the captain’s impromptu gathering of the senior staff with its new members.” He extended his hand out towards Ricci’s. “Please call me Ed,”

Antione nodded. “I will do that, Ed. If it’s informal, most people use my nickname Ant cause you know, it shortens my name. All for efficiency, I suppose.” He said with a chuckle as he shook his head.

“I’m sorry about the mess,” Branson indicated to the empty cargo containers and boxes littered around the floor nearer to his lab. “I’m in the process of unpacking as quickly as I can. I hadn’t realised how much stuff I had brought over from the Poseidon.”

Antione shook his head “No worries, the transition from one ship to another always brings a mess. It’s not like your intentionally scattering boxes around the medbay…or are you?“ He said, trying to stay serious, but started laughing. “In all seriousness, Ed, this ship is great to be on, and we help each other out. It’s not my job to reach out, but I feel as I am the protocol officer that it’s good to follow that with the crew too.”

“You’ve been on the Endeavour for some time, haven’t you?” Branson checked. 

Antione shook his head. “Not quite as long as you would think, I have been on the ship about a year, but I guess I must be doing something right at my job.” He smiled. “Speaking of that, is there any way I can help you?”

“Aye, you can pass me that cylindrical container,” Branson indicated to the small object on the floor near Ricci’s feet. “Be careful, though,” He warned. 

Ricci nodded, slowly picked up the container, and passed it over to Branson. He had never worked in Medical, but just from working on the ship, he had learned enough to be cautious when picking up containers that deal with anything remotely with medical supplies.

“So, Ant, what’s the captain like then? He appears friendly.” Branson remarked as he took the canister and placed it on one of the shelves near him. “I heard a few stories about what he was like while he served on the Poseidon before my arrival.”

Ricci smiled. “The Captain is a great man because he not only cares about the welfare of his crew, but he takes his job seriously, which is also good in this line of work.” He said as he watched Branson professionally remove the contents of the container.

“And what about the rest of the senior staff? Most of them are almost brand new, right?” Branson asked as he pointed to Ricci to pass another item his way. 

Antione paused slightly. “I have to admit that they’re new, and I haven’t seen all of their abilities, but from any indications of the last mission, it seems like we all work well as a team. I think all staff can build on strength no matter how long you have been with a group, but one thing I will say about the Endeavour is that it is a great command.”

He picked up the next indicated container and looked at Branson. “Are you worried about fitting in with the crew or just curious about the ship?”

“The latter,” Branson answered honestly. “I heard that you all went through some tough times with the Orions recently; what impact did it have on the crew?”

Antione sighed. “It was a double-edged sword; while it did have some issues, it helped bring us as a crew closer and to work as a team to end the siege the Orions had on us.” 

“I see; I suppose something like that does bring you all closer.” Branson remarked, “Anyway, I didn’t know this ship had a counsellor? Or do I detect the typical communications officer coming out here? The one who always has their ear to everything!” He teased. 

Antione nodded. “Sorry, just my protocol duties taking over, but I believe you will be a great addition to the crew. If the captain didn’t believe in you, he wouldn’t have approved the transfer. Campbell is a pretty good judge regarding his crew.”

“I appreciate that, I do,” Branson answered back. “However it was the admiral who suggested me for the transfer. I hear she was his mentor for a long time and that she officiated his marriage to your MACO deputy. Is there anyone else on the ship that’s as close as the captain and his husband?”

“Truthfully, not quite that close. Most of the crew mingles with me, but I wouldn’t say we are incredibly close like that. Of course, I don’t know what happens behind closed doors on the ship, so I can only speak for what I have seen.”

“Anyway,” Branson said, trying to change the subject, “what does the crew do to keep themselves amused when not on duty? Is there a games room? Some snooker, pool or a card game tournament? The Poseidon had a film night every night.”

Antione nodded. “We do have a great recreation area; it’s on deck three. If you want a pool tournament, I’d be willing to do so. I am the champion at it.”

Grinning at the challenge set by the communication officer, Branson nodded. “I’d be happy to take the crown away from you, lieutenant!”

After the gathering, Campbell and Leonov led the admiral out of the conference room and towards the Command Centre so they could get their next set of orders. Once they were in the box-shaped room,  Paulsen had gone to the large central wall console and inserted a data chip into it, loading several images across the huge wall monitor. 

“Ollie, Katya, this is the Alpha Gruis system, and it’s near Romulan territory,” Paulsen shared as she gestured towards the simulation of a star system. “Your orders are to scout this system and to determine if there is a suitable location for a new listening post.”

Scoffing somewhat, Campbell crossed his arms. “I thought we wouldn’t be fighting any Romulans in this mission?”

Paulsen shook her head, “No, I didn’t say that; I said this should be a change from your previous assignments. A bit of exploring for the greater good of the war effort.”

Campbell looked at Leonov, hoping she was picking up on his annoyance with Paulsen for not being clearer earlier. 

Leonov’s expression was as inscrutable as usual. “Exploration and military reconnaissance are quite different, admiral, requiring different approaches and priorities. You wouldn’t be thinking of sending the Endeavour if there was not some particular challenge, so which is it? Are we expecting a Romulan presence, local opposition, or is there some other difficulty requiring a Columbia’s extensive resources to overcome?”

“Starfleet needs to set up a larger net to see what the Romulans are up to. Right now, we don’t have enough ships to do this with a task group of surveyors. Instead, Endeavour will be one of a few ships sent in by themselves to do such a thing without backup and making a scene,” Paulsen stated.

“Basically, you don’t want the Romulans seeing us?” Campbell clarified. 

“Precisely that, Ollie,” Paulsen confirmed. “Now we know nothing about this system, so I want a thorough investigation done, including your recommendations for a suitable site for a listening post.”

“Are there any specifics this base needs to have?” Campbell checked. 

Paulsen passed a tablet over with the possible base schematics, “Somewhere out of the way, can’t be picked up on long-range scans but can sustain its personnel. Our deep space scans indicate that there might be a Minshara class world in the system.”

Scrutinising the plans, Campbell noticed something odd about them. “Ma’am, these plans include elements of Vulcan, Andorian and Tellarite technologies?”

“Indeed they do,” Paulsen verified. 

Campbell passed the tablet over to Leonov for her to review. 

Even before taking up the tablet, Leonov wore a thoughtful expression. “We’ll have to make our approach in the right way. There are regional phenomena we can plot a course near to mask our presence. None of this will make us invisible if the Romulans are looking for us, but we’re one of the biggest ships in the war front. We should take all possible precautions.”

Only then did she look at the tablet. After a moment, one eyebrow quirked. “Vulcan deep-space sensor technology does open up our options on a location. Their science programme -” This was said with the slightest sardonic edge in recollection of Vulcan surveillance operations of years gone by, “- has provided them with more long-range data than us, historically. We will need to do a little work along the way to be sure we can integrate the Andorian power signature-dampening protocols properly. That may impact position. But I’m impressed.” At last she looked up at the admiral and asked the million-unit question: “Is this the extent of assistance we’re getting from our allies these days?”

Paulsen nodded grimly. “Unfortunately, yes. Until the refits to their vessels are complete to avoid them being susceptible to the Romulan telepresence capturing virus, this is one of a few projects they can contribute to.”

“What about the Kreetassans?” Campbell wondered aloud. He hadn’t spent all that time, almost a year ago, negotiating with them for them to be kept out of such a project.

“For the moment, they’ve requested to be left out of such operations. They wish to remain working with us on the frontlines for now.” Paulsen answered. “Back to Commander Leonov’s point from earlier, a well-planned route to avoid detection would be appropriate. I want the Endeavour in and out without the Romulans; we’ve been close to their border. I’d be taking the Poseidon back to Starbase One, so you won’t have any backup close by. Any further questions?”

Both officers shook their heads, and the admiral ended her briefing, wishing them all the best. 

Josh walked up to the buffet table and asked the steward if he could get a ham steak, with russet potatoes. The steward nodded and headed back into the galley, returning 3 minutes later, carrying a plate which had the ha steak and several small russet potatoes.

He picked up a drink, an iced green tea, looked around the room. Many of the tables were crowded with his shipmates. He couldn’t see any empty seats there, so he headed to an empty table near the back of the room, one with gave him a view of the passing stars.

He was still wondering why the ship was being recalled….why was there an admiral onboard….and if the ship was headed for dry dock, or maybe even decommissioned, what would happen to him and the crew.

He cut into his steak, cutting off a piece of the it and raising the fork into his mouth. Then he cut one of the potatoes in half and picked up one of the pieces with the fork, raised it to his mouth, and he ate it.

As he was eating, he saw the captain, first officer and the admiral leave the room. Every so often, some of the crew also started leaving. Soon it was just the stewards and him left. The stewards were going around the room gathering dishes and glasses and bringing them to the galley. Josh finally finished his dinner, downed the last of his iced tea, picked up the plate and glass, and brought them to the galley. “Sir, that wasn’t necessary.” one of the stewards said.

“You had enough to do tonight. I wanted to do my part.” Josh replied. Nodded to the steward, who nodded back, then Josh left.

The meal was more then he usually had for dinner, so he decided to head to the gym and work off some of the meal.

When he arrived, the gym was deserted. He stripped off his uniform and put his workout gear on.

He started with his stretching routine, loosening up his muscles. Then it was on to the bike, which he rode for twenty minutes, starting at the slowest speed then working up to the fastest setting.

After a five-minute break, he got on the treadmill for twenty minutes, again starting at the slowest setting then working up to the fastest seating, a hard uphill all out run.

When he was done on the treadmill, he drank some water out of his bottle, while sitting on the floor, his back to the wall. Already he had worked up a generous sweat. 

Ten minutes later, he started one the weights, starting with arm curls with a twenty-five-pound weight. He did this for fifteen minutes for each arm.

Then he did arm curls with a two hundred weight barbell, starting at his thighs, up to his chest. He did this for as long as his arms could take the strain. He dropped the barbell on the mat, he’ll put it away after he rested.

Twenty minutes later, he did some dead lifts with the barbell, before he placed it back on the rack. He removed the weights and stored them in their proper spot.

Now, he just laid on the floor, letting his body relax. He took deep breaths through his nose and exhaled slowly through his mouth. He might have fallen asleep at some point since he was totally relaxed.

He stood up, no aches anywhere. He moved and faced a wall. He leaned over and brought his legs up until he was in a handstand. He moved away from the wall, keeping his balance. Then, for the first time, for him anyway, he did a set of pushups, bringing his face almost to the mat. He could feel the pain in his arms and shoulders, but he pushed through. Since it was the first time that he was doing this, he kept the routine easy, stopping after ten reps.

He brought his legs down, and he stood back up on his legs. He policed the area, leaning up and sweat that may have dripped off his face. Looking around, he was satisfied that the place was as clean as when he entered…maybe even cleaner.

He left the gym, returned to his quarters, took a cold shower, and got into bed, alerting the computer to wake him in five hours for his duty shift.

He fell asleep quickly, and only awoke when the computer announced, “This is your wake-up request. Please respond to confirm.”

Josh sat up, “Confirmed, computer.”

“Hold the door, will you?” 

Looking up from where he stood in the lift doorway, Branson smiled when he noticed who it was. Placing his free right hand on the door to stop the sensors from automatically closing it, he welcomed the woman who sprinted a bit to enter the lift. 

“Monica, how are you doing?” Branson asked the chief armoury officer.

Taking a moment to compose herself, Gasset adjusted herself slightly before answering. “Well, thanks, Ed. And yourself? Settled into your new sickbay, okay?” 

The doctor nodded after letting go of the door and allowing it to shut itself. “No qualms from me, you with the armoury?”

“Perfectly fine.” She replied as she looked him up and down. “I’m glad you’re wearing something casual; I wasn’t sure if this was appropriate.” She indicated the beige blouse she wore along with the black leggings and cream-coloured high-heel shoes.

He gestured towards his clothes, an open-collared salmon shirt with dark blue skinny trousers and similar coloured shoes. “Do you think this is okay?” He asked.

“It’s fine, Ed,” She replied, “I have to admit, I’ve never been called to the captain’s private dining room for a casual meal, are we meant to bring a bottle of something?”

Considering her idea for a second, the young doctor thought about it, “No,” He shook his head, “the memo said it was a casual sit-down meal with the captain and his husband.”

“I hope so,” Gasset stated. “I mean, it did say no uniform to be worn just civilian attire.”   

The lift stopped on deck five, where the mess hall was along with the captain’s dining room. As they stepped out, their journey didn’t take long to approach the door to the mess hall, to the point they bumped into Lieutenant Commander Shu. 

“Commander Shu,” Branson greeted the new chief engineer.

“Ma’am,” Gasset added after Branson, “are you heading to the captain’s mess as well?”

“Ah, it’s Commander Xiang. Family name, then given,” Shu said, correcting Branson with a smile. “Might be an Aussie, but some traditions still hold true. And yah got a dinner invite that was a bit more tempting than the mess hall. Shall we?” For her own part, Shu had opted for a pair of khaki slacks and a somewhat tight-cut short-sleeve blue silk blouse paired with simple black dress shoes that bore a few scuffs along the sides.

The three stepped into the room and across the mess hall. Branson tapped the door chime button, followed by the captain’s voice on the other side of the door telling them to come in. The door automatically opened for them, and the sight revealed Captain Campbell standing with a drink in his hand, talking and laughing with his husband, First Lieutenant Fynn Trommler. Campbell was wearing a khaki-coloured long-sleeved top with black trousers, while Trommler wore an ochre-coloured short-sleeved shirt with similar trousers to what Branson had on. 

Seeing their guests arrive, the couple stopped to greet them. 

“Glad to see, Romeo, got the memo to you all in not wearing your jumpsuits,” Campbell noted. “Please come in.” He gestured to the trio with his free hand. 

“Thank you, sir,” Branson smiled.

Trommler looked at Campbell when Branson called him ‘sir’ and smirked. Campbell responded in a soft tone. “Let’s keep tonight informal if we can. Please, no calling me ‘sir’.” The captain requested. 

“He hates being called, sir; it makes him feel old!” Trommler added with a cheeky wink and smirk.

Campbell glared at his husband in a sort of teasing way. 

“How shall we address you,” Gasset stopped herself from saying ‘sir’ and instead added “captain” at the end of her question. 

“That’ll do,” Campbell replied, “Please can we get you some drinks? Iced tea?” He gestured towards the drink pitcher on the table with the empty glasses around the side of it.

“Aye, that’ll be fine, thank you,” Branson replied.

“Thank you, captain,” Gasset stated. 

“Actually that sounds lovely. Splash a lemon with it?” Shu asked, craning her neck to look past Branson at the drinks. “And any of that lovely whiskey for later by chance?”

“I like this one,” Trommler said, motioning towards the chief engineer with a smirk. 

Campbell ended up pouring them all drinks and handing them their glasses. Raising his own, which he refilled as well as Trommler’s, he then prepared a speech. “To the first day of a new assignment and meeting new colleagues.”

They all echoed the captain’s sentiments before taking a sip of their drinks. 

“So, how have your first days gone so far?” Campbell asked as he lowered his glass.

“The fun and games of working out personalities, skillsets and then listening to defences of previous repairs,” Shu said after a sip of her drink. “But otherwise all good. Few things I’m already willing to change, few I think I need to understand why they are the way they are before I’ll touch them. Things like processes, rosters, some of the adhoc repairs.” She offered a genuine smile to the gathered individuals. “Got a pretty solid base of folks aboard ship here Cap.”

Appreciating the compliment, Campbell smirked at his new chief engineer. “Endeavour has gone through a lot in the last year and a half. You may find that some of those repairs maybe something to do with the refit when she was upgraded to the Columbia-class specifications, or the damage sustained when the Orions took the ship a few months ago.”

“That wasn’t the greatest moment of Endeavour‘s history,” Trommler commented as he took a sip from his drink. 

Intrigued by that, Branson spoke up. “Lieutenant Ricci stated that…” He paused as he considered his next word carefully, “event brought the crew together. Were the Orions really hired by the Romulans to capture the ship?”

 “They were,” Campbell answered as he recalled the torture he and others went through under the green hands of their attackers, “I’m not sure it was quite the team-building exercise I had wanted for the crew but there was some satisfaction in retaking the ship.”

“I read in your report that you faked a warp core breach,” Gasset stated in between sips and looked to Xiang, “maybe those scars are still present on the ship?”

“Not that I’ve seen,” Shu spoke up as she set her drink down, the better to speak with her hands as well. “Then again, I haven’t exactly suited up to go outside and take a look. Faking a breach, if done right, might have left some carbon scoring, or discolouration of the outer hull panels along the nacelles. I’d wager some cleaning and maintenance afterwards hide or made good the worst of it.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if some systems were properly looked at when we used the Risian repair yard,” Campbell replied. “Anyway, let’s talk about food. Do any of you have any preferences to food?”

Branson shook his head, “As long as it’s edible, captain.”

“Anything as long as it’s from Earth,” Shu added. “I don’t know what it is, but certain off-world cuisines and I are not friends. Would love a proper barbeque, but I’m going to tell you right now, open flames anywhere on the ship that isn’t the galley is a no go.”

“Talking of barbeques, does the ship have themed evenings for meals?” Gasset asked as she sipped more of her drink. 

Trommler nodded, “Depends how creative chef is feeling.” He answered.

“Well then, if that’s the case, tonight’s speciality is tacos!” Campbell said with a smile. 

“Hope you don’t mind my asking Captain, Lieutenant,” Shu aimed the last title to Trommler, “but how does married life work on a starship? Does it cause any sort of, I don’t know, relationship conflicts? Please, feel free to tell me if I’m out of line.”

Campbell and Trommler exchanged a look with one another before Trommler answered. “I suppose with me being a MACO, Ollie isn’t in my direct chain of command, that said it is his ship, so I have to follow his orders. Over the last year though, we’ve worked out a decent routine on how it works.”

“And so far the brass don’t have any issue with it,” Campbell replied. “Are any of you in relationships?”

“Don’t look at me,” Shu said with a slight chuckle and raised hands in defence. “I’m terrible with relationships. Heck, I transferred off the Guangdong because of a relationship going south.” She chuckled slightly once more. “Take a small starship, pack it to the framing members with personnel, then give them weeks and weeks and weeks of transit just to get anywhere and tell you aren’t going to have problems.” A shrug of her shoulders and then she reached for her drink again. “Not to worry though Cap,” she addressed Campbell, “I learned my lesson and won’t let feelings get in the way again.”

There were a few chuckles from Shu’s story sharing before both Gasset shared she had no one while Branson avoided the question by changing the subject. 

“There is one thing, I was wondering, captain if you don’t mind me asking and that’s do you have any good stories about Rear Admiral Paulsen? You were her first officer for some time and I’m assuming you’re friends?” Branson asked the captain before taking a sip from his drink. 

“Too many stories, I’m afraid,” Campbell answered just as the stewards walked in with their meals. “Where shall I start?” 

“Anything saucy that the rest of the admiralty aren’t aware of?” Branson questioned as they watched the stewards lay their table. 

Chuckling, Campbell shook his head. “Nothing that I can remember of.”

“We’ve had a few drunken evenings with her and her husband,” Trommler reminded his husband. 

“You guys and Defence Secretary Vanderbilt?” Gasset said, sounding surprised. 

“He wasn’t the defence secretary then,” Campbell assured his armoury officer. “But yeah we’re good friends with them both.” He smiled at Trommler before looking at their meal. “Ladies and gents, shall we take our seats and enjoy this great meal that our chef has prepared for us?”

They all agreed and their evening meal commenced. As Campbell sat down, he wondered just how long these three would remain on the Endeavour. He hoped a lot longer than their predecessors, he was starting to like them. 

Antione had been sifting through some languages that he was trying to decipher for any chance encounters. He had been at his station for hours with nothing to prove of his efforts. He sighed as he stopped to try and regroup his thoughts. His job could be one of those no one wanted due to the amount of extra work it took at times, but he pushed through. 

He looked up seeing the arrival of Commander Xiang. He smiled “Hello Commander, what brings you to the bridge at this hour?”

As she stepped out of the turbolift, Shu held up the padd in her left hand as a non-verbal explanation of her reason for being on the bridge. Her right was busy steading the cup of coffee she was sipping at. Walking, reading and drinking were after all a combination of skills all officers had to learn and master at some point in their careers. It only took a few seconds before she could voice more of her explanation, those seconds spent crossing over to the empty command chair. “Someone has to draw the short stick every once and awhile,” she said, her Australian accent coming through proudly. “Right, let’s see, we can turn this ship around, go to high warp and go screaming into the void of space where no one will ever find us, or maintain course and heading?” It only earned a few chuckles from some of the other late-shift bridge officers.

Antione didn’t say much, but the joking manner of the Commander was well known on the ship, especially to someone who had been there awhile. He just shook his head and looked back down at his console waiting to hear if he had any orders. The many hours of sifting had started to really get to him.

“Anything interesting going on out there?” Shu asked as she tucked the small padd down between her left leg and the seat arm, twisting the chair slightly to face Communications. “I mean, I know there are a few ships on long-range sensors, but what’s the gossip, Antione?”

Antione shook his head “There is no current gossip to share. I have been working on translating this dialect for the past few hours and it has been the main event of the evening, though I have kept an eye on the comms. The frequencies are rather quiet…knock on metaphorical wood that it stays that way.” He said with a small shake of the head.

“Dialect?” Shu’s head tilted to the side and an eyebrow rose in questioning. “Aren’t dialects just a particular form of an existing language? Like Scottish, American, and British English?” She stood and walked over to the Comms console, though about the same level as a sitting Antione thanks to the raised level he was sitting on the lowered level she was now standing on.

Antione shook his head “They are but the language isn’t something I can pinpoint it sounds like something we all know, but then something about it makes me question the origin of i.” He said as he touched his ear listening closely to the sounds.

“So, which language then is it supposed to be derived from?” she asked as a follow-up. “Romulan? Is it something we should send back to Command so they can get a team of linguist on it?”

Antione appreciated the worry, but if it needed to be sent back he would have already done that. “No there’s no need for that this was marked low priority when it was sent to me, but I have been trying to get it sorted. I can get it just sometimes it’s a game of time.”

“Would it help to play it over the bridge comm system perhaps?” She looked around the bridge at the three other people manning it at this hour. “I wouldn’t mind if it would help, what about all of you?” There was a chorus of ‘meh’ in response, a resounding apathy to the prospect.

Antione thought for a moment “Maybe a louder version of it could perhaps help than just the confined noise in my ears.” He switched the sound to the bridge comms and the dialect loudly reverberated on the comms before Antione quickly adjusted the sound.

“I’m all for helping, but maybe, turn it down just a touch,” Shu said, waiting for Antione’s compliance with her request. “Not much louder okay? Would be nice to hear myself thinks while reading performance reviews of all things.”

Antione smiled “I think this is what I needed all along. Can you hear those small growls in the dialect? It helps to determine the language of origin. What Commander do you think it is?”

She stopped, eyes rolling upwards with a slight tilt of her head backwards to look at the ceiling, a thinking pose if ever there was one. “Growls, a guttural barking language.” She turned to take a few steps back to the captain’s chair, sitting herself down while still in thought. “You know, this sounds an awful like a golden retriever fighting over a chew toy. Maybe a German Sheppard? And the owner is perhaps Russian, or German?”

Antione smirked it was true he was using the moment as a teaching tool, but sometimes it was the best way to proceed “Would I ever do that? Yes, I sure would, but seriously Commander this is a good way to test your linguist skills and maybe add to that knowledge.”

“How’s about you stick to talking nice to the aliens out there, I’ll stick to using the universal translator?” she replied. “I speak the universal language of mathematics after all. Everywhere you go, as long as you know the rules of math, you can figure out how to communicate with someone. And violate the lightspeed barrier as long as you remember to carry the three…or was it a four?” she postulated, crossing a leg and leaning back in the centre seat.

Antione smirked “The universal translator that’s the easy way out. However, I suppose I’ll concede to your observation especially considering my skills with math is moot compared to yours.” 

“Right, now, serious question,” Shu started, twisting the chair slightly. “Could you hail all the ships in range and see if anyone has any recent netball or rugby games from Earth? And more importantly video of it?”

Antione shook his head “You know that’s not allowed, but I can maybe contact a friend who may be able to help you in that area.” 

Shu smiled and planted one elbow into the chair’s arm, leaning into it in her best roguish captain impression. “Counteroffer, hail everyone in range, part of our standard,” she checked the chrono display at hand, “0230hr sweep and make sure all is well and good out there and while you’ve got them on the line, just drop in a question out rugby and netball.” She sat up properly, grabbed hold of her padd and turned it back on. “Heck, I’d even settle for men’s netball at this point. Totally different game, but still fun to watch.”

Antione shrugged and complied with the orders doing his job. The Commander had quite an interesting request and he hoped that someone might have a video to appease the hankerings of the Commander. 

As a starship operated all day, every day while deployed, the concept of night and day became more theoretical than practical, days just becoming a larger time-keeping unit after hours. All of this conspired such that for one Xiang Shu, 0230HR was in fact early evening, punctuated by the half-picked at dinner in front of her, the glass of some sickly sweet carbonated beverage slowing fizzing away the last of its entrapped gasses and the six padds of various sizes spread across the table.

One of them, just marginally larger than an A3 piece of paper, was propped up by an included stand, the back of the padd proudly stating ‘If found return to Engineering immediately’. The others ranged from the normal handheld padds for getting information in front eyeballs to the slightly larger paperwork workhorses. All of them held Shu’s attention as she flitted between the smaller padds, then the largest one, fingers tracing something on the screen, then tapping commands, reading a small padd, back to the large one. Occasionally a sip, maybe pull at her dinner, but always back to the padds and the arcane information held within.

If there was any creature that kept hours comparable to the engineer, it was the scientist. Which meant soon there was the faint clearing of the throat to herald Katya Leonov stopping before the table, her own tray holding some food and more tablets in-hand. “Command Xiang.” A beat, and Leonov tilted her head. “I am going to join you. Because if you want to talk, I’d be amenable to hearing how you’re settling in. And if you don’t, we can sit in silence, read, and work, and nobody at this hour is going to dare to interrupt what will appear to be two senior officers meeting in the mess hall.”

Without waiting for a response, Leonov slid into the opposite seat and set her tray down. Cool eyes met Xiang’s, seeming honest with her options, curious on which would be taken.

“Some of these wartime repairs are bonkers,” Shu said in reply to the earlier statement and query about how she was settling in. “I go looking into why there’s an odd rattle in the wall of my quarters and I start unravelling a series of questionable repairs. Then I start looking at more critical systems and,” she trailed off slightly shuffling the padds, then spinning one and sliding it towards Leonov. “I get it, I truly do, and it makes sense in the context of the situation it was done in, but no follow-up remedial repair, no mentioning to a dockyard team. If that power channel blows, it’ll wipe out three bunk compartments and a science lab.”

Then she stopped, took a breath and rubbed at her face with her left hand. “Endeavour humms differently. And frankly, my last experience on an NX-class didn’t end exceedingly,” she answered more directly. “Engineering is in order, quarters sorted, found everything. Guess it’s like moving into a new apartment, you never sleep right the first week or so till you get used to the weird noises.”

“Even on different NXs – or Columbias – the engines always sound different. Normally I blame the engineers for that,” Leonov deadpanned. She took a slow sip of the tea she’d picked up, light on caffeine at this late hour. “You have to view the wartime maintenance and repair regime as liberating. Out here, it’s impractical to adhere to dockyard standards in work or record-keeping. You can run the ship as you see fit, because you have to run the ship as you see fit.”

“Oh I get that,” Shu agreed. “But when you’ve got something like this that could be life-threatening or any of the dozen others I’ve found, and down time to do remedial work in, it should be done.” She sighed, then pulled the padd back closer to her, reaching to tap at the button to turn the screen off. “I’m reviewing the entire work schedule for Engineering and getting some of these solved just so I can get a decent night’s sleep. Maybe even fix the weird warble I hear when on C deck around 1800HR every day.”

Another sip of tea from Leonov. “You seem very detail-oriented, Commander. Even by the standards of an engineer.” She leaned forward. “I’m familiar with what happened to the Atlantis, of course. Losing her from the front line for a time while the Columbia refits were underway forced us to rush shakedown on the Buran, pushed the Phoenix out perhaps too fast. I wasn’t aware of any engineering shortcomings in the Battle of Tau Ceti.” Whether Leonov thought there had been other Starfleet shortcomings was unclear.

“You’re as familiar with it as I am,” Shu said, tapping the side of her head. “Took a good whack to the head, near the start of the fight and that’s all I remember. Chief Holmes said I was coherent and making damn good calls up until an explosion threw me across a corridor and knocked me out.” She shrugged, looked at the padds and started to absent-mindedly stack them, the largest at the bottom. “The engineering shortcomings at Tau Ceti were to many of them, not enough of us and they could distract us by lobbing nukes at a planet that we had to stop.”

“That sounds like a rather universal shortcoming,” Leonov observed drily. “The Endeavour has had less direct confrontation with the Romulans in recent months. Their routing at Vega has made them rethink their approach, I suspect. If all goes well on our next mission, you should have opportunity to familiarise yourself more with the ship before we end up in combat conditions.” All going well was perhaps an optimistic suggestion, but it still lay within the bounds of possibility.

“Here’s hoping,” Shu said, her smile starting off as an imitation before becoming real, involving her whole face. “Speaking of the new mission, what are the details you’ve heard? Anything you can share?”

Leonov’s smile was tight. “We have some information gathering in our immediate future, but beyond that, I’m sure Captain Campbell will share the details when the time is right. All going well, we shouldn’t see any encounters with the enemy.”

“Well, that’s a shame, I was hoping for something more. Guess we’ll have to wait till the Captain gives us more to work with. Looking forward to avoiding Romulans for a bit, that’s for sure. But just in case they stick their nose in where it’s not wanted, I’ll make sure Endeavour is ready for it.”

“Do that.” Leonov sipped her tea. “Make sure our engines are running with no excess emissions. I’m sure the captain will tell you that soon, but if we can run as quiet as possible for the next while, that will serve our needs. We don’t want any unexpected conversations.”

“I’ll also make sure the Armoury has all the power they want, should we end up with those conversations and find we need a big stick,” Shu smiled, finished stacking her padds and looked at her half-finished dinner, then over to where food was set out for the crew. “Didn’t happen to see any chocolate pudding or cake did you?” She slowly got to her feet, collecting her plate to return it in exchange for a dessert she truly didn’t need but sorely wanted. 

“It’s a mousse,” Leonov said with a certain desolate tone. “It tastes mostly of air that’s been shown chocolate.” She looked up, expression going wryly amused. “I’m very sorry, Commander. Welcome to Endeavour.”

“Captain’s star log May Sixteenth, Twenty-One-Fifty Seven. We arrived in the Alpha Gruis system two days later than planned because we had to evade a Romulan patrol. Preliminary scans of the system show the first planet is Minshara class. Probes have been sent to the other planets in the system while we prepare survey teams.”

Standing in his ready room, staring out of the viewport at the lush green planet below, Campbell smiled for once. This felt like a real chance to do some exploring while the crew carried out its survey of the planet. Campbell had ordered Randall to place them in a low orbit to avoid them being detected by any Romulan vessels. He wanted to get in, get their survey complete and out before having to deal with any Romulans. 

Campbell was giddy like a child on Christmas day unwrapping presents. He hadn’t felt this excited for a long time; he couldn’t remember the last time he had the chance to do something without having to order the ship to tactical alert. As such, he had already decided he would be on the first shuttlepod down. 

His door chime went off, and he looked over his shoulder after confirming his visitor to come in. Walking in with a tablet clutched in his hands was Doctor Branson. The young doctor was settling in well, and Campbell found their shared Scottish heritage something they enjoyed sharing and talking about. “Ed, everything all okay?”

“Aye, sir,” Branson replied as he handed the tablet over, “I’ve just reviewed the preliminary scans that Commander Leonav has done of Alpha Gruis One.”

Pleased to hear that, Campbell took the device and started skim-reading it, “And?” He asked, wanting his chief medical officer to give him the news.

“There appear to be no bio-toxins, nasty microbes or anything else that appears dangerous to us. I’m giving the survey mission the green light for the crew to visit the planet.” Branson answered with a smirk.

“Excellent, thank you, Ed,” Campbell said as he gestured for him to take a seat. “Anything down there that piques your interest?” He asked as the doctor sat in the armchair opposite his desk. 

“Nothing directly; however, those beaches in the northern hemisphere almost remind me of Newquay. Those waves look high enough to enjoy!” Before he realised he wasn’t being very scientific or professional, Branson changed his tone and added more to his remark. “Obviously, if I were an oceanographer, it would be fascinating to observe.”

Campbell chuckled, “It’s okay, Ed, we’re allowed to enjoy ourselves a bit.” He picked up another tablet and typed Branon’s name to the first survey team. “There, you’re joining me, Joshua, Shu, Monica and Ant on the initial team.”

“Thank you, sir, but is Commander Leonov not joining us? Or Fynn?” Branson said, grateful for the captain allowing him to be with them. 

“Katya will remain on board to conduct further, more detailed scans from orbit while the MACOs will come down in the following groups to help with surveying and securing the site for the new listening post,” Campbell answered. “I don’t think Fynn will be happy when he hears I’ve gone without him!”

Branson now laughed and asked his captain if there was anything else he needed. After shaking his head, Campbell replied with a simple ‘no’. 

“Let me go pack my gear then, and I’ll see you in the hanger bay, sir,” Branson stated.

Nodding to him, Campbell smiled as the doctor got up and left his office. Standing back up, he looked out of the viewport again, and his grin grew. He was really ready for this change in scenery.

Randle was on the bridge when the Endeavour had to avoid a Romulan patrol, when they entered the Alpha Grius system, and detected a Minshara class planet.

Scans showed a vibrant plant and animal life. More scans detected humanoid life signs as well. The captain ordered the comms to make contact. When the viewscreen was activated, a humanoid woman appeared. She said she was the ruler of the planet. She looked around the bridge, I guess she wasn’t used to see a starship make contact with their planet.

The captain decided that a landing party would go down to make contact. I immediately requested that I be on that party.

Ensign Joshua Randall

Endeavour Helm Officer

“You really didn’t need to walk me to the launch bay,” Campbell noted to his husband as they turned down a junction on deck five. He knew why Trommler was with him, but he wanted to hear him say it.

“I’m only doing it to make you feel more guilty for not taking me with you as part of the landing party,” Trommler replied with a smirk.

Chuckling, Campbell nodded in response. “Well, who would I have around to come and rescue me if I get kidnapped by some airborne lizard?”

“This isn’t Berengaria Eight, Ollie; you’re not some helpless damsel in distress locked away in a tall tower!” Trommler stated as they turned down into another corridor. “Though that said, have you packed enough?” He asked in a sarcastic tone while also inclining toward the small backpack that Campbell was carrying. 

“Just the essentials except for the kitchen sink,” Campbell said in a matching tone as they finally reached the doors to the hanger bay. 

Entering the bay, the final prep work was undertaken by those on the landing party and the technicians assigned to the hanger bay. The landing party were all distinct from the others because they wore their tanned long-sleeved excursion uniforms. They were planning to land to conduct the initial survey in a warm location, so opting to wear this uniform was more feasible. 

Calling out to Randall, the captain was hoping to hear they were ready to go. “Shuttlepod status, Josh?” He asked his helm officer.

Josh turned towards the captain when he heard the question. “Shuttlepod is prepped and ready to launch, sir!”

“And don’t worry, sir, I’ve got a full emergency med kit stored in the boot of the pod,” Doctor Branson added as he approached the group of men. 

“Aye, let’s hope you won’t need it while you conduct your survey to ensure the planet is safe for humanoids,” Campbell responded.

 Strolling over to join the captain and the others were Lieutenant Gassett and Lieutenant Commander Xiang. 

“Captain, your phase pistol,” Gasset offered the weapon in its holster to the captain, “I’ve also got phase rifles loaded in the shuttlepod too.”

“Are we planning to invade the local animal life down there?” Branson asked the armoury officer.

“We are at war, doctor,” Gasset reminded him. 

“God forbid the Romulans did turn up, I’d prefer us not to be without some protection, Ed,” Campbell elaborated further. He looked to his chief engineer, “Ready to go, commander?”

“I’d like perhaps not to trip and fall on my face on at least one world,” Shu replied with a smile. “Tell you about it another time,” she said to Gasset with a wink. “But yes captain, all set and ready to go. I’ve also got PO Das sitting by the transporter ready to beam up any interesting non-biological finds. Don’t think I’m ever going to trust those things to get things exactly right. You know what I mean?”

Campbell chuckled as he could appreciate his chief engineer’s reluctance to want to use the transporter. “Well, hopefully, we won’t need the transporter for many things.”

Looking around the room, Campbell, wondered where his chief communications officer was and then the side door opened allowing Ricci to enter. Wearing the same outfit as the rest of them, Ricci came in with a bigger rucksack than the rest of them and was already armed with a phase rifle in his arm.

“Looks like Ant has packed an excursion for a week,” Branson remarked before heading over to Ricci. “You need a hand with any of that, lieutenant?”

Antione wasn’t sure what to expect so he packed heavy. He knew some jokes would be chided, but it was ok he was pretty used to it. He smirked “You never know what we may need. And no I think I got it.” He said confidently as he staggered back for a moment “Then again maybe not.” He handed one of the bags to Branson and nodded in thanks. He looked over at the Captain “Apologies about the delay Captain. I guess I got a little overzealous.”

Josh wasn’t sure if he was here just to prep the shuttlepod, or if he was going on the mission.

“Hey Randall,” Shu spoke with a cheery tone to her voice. “Up for some rather mundane and pedestrian flying, or are you just here to remind us what a true pilot looks like?” She waved for him to join her as she started to climb into the shuttlepod. “I know they’ve done prep,” she indicated the bay staff who were still prepping the bay for launch and the inevitable recovery, “but we should still do a preflight check ourselves.”

“I’m up for any chance to pilot, commander.” As soon as she entered the shuttlepod, he climbed in and took the pilot’s seat, and started the preflight checklist. 

With that, Campbell indicated for everyone to climb aboard and said goodbye to his husband with a simple wink as he got in via the side door. Minutes later and the landing party were comfortable in their seats and the request to leave the ship was granted. Shuttlepod One dropped down after the hangar bay doors opened. It wasn’t long before they hit the atmosphere of the planet and we making their entry. 

Breaking through white whispery clouds, Shuttlepod One soon found the lush region it was heading towards to begin the initial survey. Keeping close to the coast of the north-western continent, this area appeared to be a great possibility for the listening post’s location. A nearby mountain range had some interesting ore that appeared to limit the range of sensors. To get a complete picture of the area, they were going to have to use drones to survey from above while they walked around the grassland biome. Wherever they looked, the colour green was everywhere – even the water appeared green. 

“Set us down in that clearing,” Campbell ordered Randall as he gestured to a flat area of ground that had a combination of sand and grass. 

After their touchdown, Campbell opened the hatch with a simple push and soon found himself standing on an alien world. “One small step,” He mumbled to himself as he looked around at his warm, sunny surroundings before putting on his cap and sunglasses. “Let’s go, everyone!” He ordered and for the first time, the explorer within him was eager to come out.

After the captain departed with Lieutenant Commander Xiang, Doctor Branson walked away with Lieutenant Ricci, leaving Gasset with their pilot. Turning to Randall, the chief armoury officer gestured for them to move in the direction the captain wanted them to take. Near the flat area where they had landed was a massive lake behind some trees. “Come on then, lieutenant, let’s go see what this lake is like,” Gasset ordered.

“Right behind you, lieutenant.” Randall followed her, his scanner out and working.

“So where do you call home, lieutenant?” Gasset asked, starting some small talk with the office she knew nothing about.

“My family is one of the biggest asteroid mining companies. My youth was spent living on a ship or under a pressurised dome on one of the largest asteroids,” he responded.

Intrigued by that response, Gasset continued to ask more. “Which asteroids? The ones in the main belt?” 

Randall nodded. 

“I suppose visiting a Minshara-class world is just as alien to you as if you were visiting Earth for the first time, then?” Gasset guessed. 

He nodded again, then said, “When I joined the Starfleet, that was the first time I had set foot on Earth. It took me a while to get used to the difference in gravity. Being here is like an adventure, blue skies, trees, grass and clean, uncycled air. What about you?”

“My family are all from Chicago,” She answered with a smile, “I moved to New York after graduating high school for a year before joining the United Earth Global Defence Force. I’ve never settled down, as I was always out on assignments. That said, after going to Starfleet Training Command for a year, I fell in love with San Francisco. Jogging across the Golden Gate bridge every morning was breathtaking in more than one way!”

“I always liked looking at that bridge. It’s a miracle.”

Eventually, they got through the trees and were stunned by the beautiful scenery of the lake they were going to survey. 

“Gorgeous,” Gasset muttered as she closed her scanner to breathe in the scene before her. The sun reflected in the clear water, almost making the lake’s surface glisten and sparkly. It was impressive.

Randall knelt by the water and waved his scanner. “Drinkable, no pollution, and I am detecting a variety of fish in the water,” he reported.

Moving around the edge of the lake, Gasset had re-opened her scanner and was looking between it and the journey they were taking along the shore. She then stopped in her tracks and pointed to the floor. “Joshua, look at that,” She said at what appeared to be prints in the golden sand. Kneeling to look at them, the investigator within her gazed closer at what they had discovered. “Those are boot prints, but not Starfleet standard.” 

“Agreed. We are not alone here.” He pulled his weapon out of its holster. 

“I didn’t think we were expecting any visitors either,” She replied as she took out her phase pistol and looked around them cautiously. She couldn’t see anything else that would explain what they had found. Taking her communicator out, she called for the captain and got no reply. She then called for Branson and Ricci, but again, she got nothing. “Josh, I don’t like this.”

Randall scanned the area. “Not reading any interference that would prevent our contacting the others, so maybe their communicators are malfunctioning or can’t respond.”

Looking at where the footprints headed, she could see they re-entered the small woodlands they had crossed to get to the lake. “I think we should return to the shuttlepod but retrace our previous path.”

“Agreed.”

“Let’s go.” She whispered. 

As they entered the wooded area, they heard shuffling. Indicating for Randall to get down, Gasset got behind one of the larger trees with her weapon drawn. The movement through the shrubbery got near. Then weapon’s fire started to rain down on their location. The fire, though, was not energy based.

“Those are bullets!” She called out to Randall. 

“Crude weapons, so these people have limited weapons.” Randall raised his phase pistol and started shooting, aiming for the ground before the attackers.

Returning fire, both Starfleet officers knew they were in a dangerous situation. Looking at her attackers, who were now closer, Gasset could see they appeared almost human. All three were women wearing suit-like clothing that made them look like something from the history books she had read as a child. Their hairstyles were all identical, short bobs with tight ringlets. Also wrapped around their heads were bandannas with a few small decorative feathers and jewels attached.

Before she could formulate a plan, all three women made a lurch forward towards them. Gasset initially found herself in a fistfight and was caught off guard when she saw one of the women shoot Randall in the arm before another tackled him to the floor. Her attacker was holding up quite the fight while her companions were handcuffing Randall. Once they had done that, they used their weapon to knock him out cold. Realising she was in a tricky situation, Gasset performed a high kick to her attacker, which had enough energy to send her flying to the ground. Realising she couldn’t get to Randall, she picked up her phase pistol and started to run out of the woodlands to get to the shuttlepod. She needed to get help before she could return.

After splitting up the landing party into three groups, Campbell was keen to get underway and had noticed that he was not the only one. His chief medical officer was in a giddy mood when they departed from the shuttlepod. Locking the shuttlepod up, the team went in separate directions to cover as much land as possible as they undertook their survey. 

Campbell was with his new chief engineer; both had their scanners as they walked along the bank of a gushing river. “This stream appears to be coming from that hill up there,” The captain indicated with his hand that his scanner was in. “If the listening post is set up here, at least they will have access to a water source.”

“And this far upstream from the larger bodies of water, all that lovely algae and plankton growth isn’t present either,” Shu said as she checked her scanner, made a slight calibration change then rescanned. “Still wouldn’t drink it till it’s been boiled, but it’s a good start.”

Though the sun was blasting down on them with little cloud cover, the shade from nearby trees by the river helped them somewhat. “I suppose you’re used to the heat, commander, coming from ‘down under’?” 

“To a point,” She admitted with a smile. “Been in the fleet long enough that last I was home I was close to melting in the middle of December. Thirty-five degrees at ten o’clock is a little much for me. No thinking, just swimming or surfing then beers in the shade afterwards.”

“I have to admit; I’ve never visited Australia; my brother-in-law raves about it and spends most of his shore leave there surfing,” Campbell shared. “Fynn tried to teach me once during a break in Newquay in England, but I kept falling off.”

“Eh, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” She gave a single sharp laugh. “Heck, I’m terrible at it anyway. I only go surfing to see who’s willing to try and teach me how to surf better. So,” she stretched the word for emphasis, “many bad pickup lines.”

Looking down at his scanner after it beeped at him, Campbell frowned at the readings. “The nearby rocks contain minerals that are interfering with my scans. Do you have the same?”

Shu’s expression went from willing to joke and banter to professional instantly as her attention dropped to her own scanner, waving it in the same direction as Campbell’s own. “Magnesite ore likely. Whole mountain is likely lousy with the stuff, these rocks are just washed down over the eons. Won’t know till we get a sample back to the to confirm with spectroscopy, but I’m willing to put a round of drinks on it.”

The captain chuckled at her confidence before refocusing on his scanner. “I suppose that may assist in keeping the base’s location hidden,” Campbell stated.

“Certainly from orbit if they see someone coming in time to power down. Plenty of foliage cover to hide optically with, magnesite to hide life signs and structures from non-visual scanners. Turns off your big power sources and you could likely go quiet around.” She scanned the river briefly. “Set up a couple of water wheels for running essential electronics in such a scenario, a decent battery bank, and a few wind turbines somewhere, this could make a decent little outpost.”

They continued walking until they heard movement on the other side of the riverbank. As the scanners could not determine what it was, Campbell gestured for Xiang to pull out their handheld phase pistols before calling out.

Nothing replied, and then three tall slim figures appeared out of nowhere and started to fire at them. Their weapons seemed similar to those of rifles from the late nineteenth century/early twentieth century. Pushing Xiang behind a large rock formation, Campbell dropped down beside her. “So much for a quiet away mission.” He sarcastically stated.

“Tell me about it,” Shu muttered, then reached out to snap at something that had moments before slammed into the ground beside her. Her hand wrapped around it, picking it up, then immediately dropped it as she withdrew her hand, hissing. But she’d pulled her target close enough to look it over now in the safety of the rock’s lee. “Is that a musket round?” she asked of the flattened mushroom of metal on the ground, its back half the only indication of its previous round shape.

Glancing carefully above their shelter, Campbell saw that their attackers all looked like tall human women. They wore suit-like clothing that made them look like characters he had seen from a period drama his mother used to watch when he was a child. Their hairstyles were all identical, short bobs with tight ringlets. Also wrapped around their heads were bandannas with a few small decorative feathers and jewels attached. 

“Hold your fire; we are not your enemies!” Campbell called out after quickly kneeling back down to avoid their fire.

“Don’t tell us what to do, man!” One of them called back. 

Exchanging a look with Xiang at how quickly the universal translator had worked, Campbell knew they were pinned down. “I’ll draw their fire; you take a run towards those bushes,” He pointed out, “head to the shuttlepod and get some help!”

“Sound plan, but aren’t you the captain? Shouldn’t I be giving you cover fire?” Shu asked as she shifted about, getting ready to spring to her feet and start running flat out.

“I’ll be right behind you!” Campbell answered, still whispering.

“Alright boss, but I’m holding you to that,” she snapped back, then gave him a wink and nod to indicate she was mentally and physically ready to start running, even getting her pistol ready to fire wildly behind her as she ran to offer her own bit of covering fire.

Nodding to her, Campbell jumped up and started to run in one direction, firing his phase pistol towards their attacker while Xiang ran in the opposite direction, following almost the same path they had used to get back to their shuttlepod. 

Noticing that she was far away, Campbell hid behind a wide tree. The three women were still firing at him. Deciding he needed to do something clever, he pulled his rucksack and saw that the smoke grenade he had packed in it earlier was okay. Pulling it out, he pulled the pin and threw it in the direction of his attackers. As it went off and started to fill the vicinity with smoke, he made a run for it to follow after Xiang. Firing his pistol as he did, he was almost far away before one of the women opened fire and got him in his leg. Instantly he fell to the ground and screamed out in pain from the hit. 

Turning around on his side, he was confronted by his attackers, all using their bandannas as face masks. Their weapons aimed at him, and he flew his hands up to show he surrendered. Dropping his phase pistol when he was shot, he showed he was unarmed, but the woman in the middle made a growling noise at him before she used the butt of her rifle to hit him in the face and knock him out stone-cold. 

“Xiang to landing party,” Shu said nearly fifteen minutes later into the shuttlepod’s limited comm station, her communicator lost somewhere in the brush that she’d had to scramble through in a hurry to get back in the time she had. “Xiang to landing party, can anyone hear me?” she asked. She waited nearly a minute before flicking the switch to hail Endeavour in orbit. “Xiang to Endeavour, we’ve got a problem.”

“I dunno, Ant, this doesn’t look like something that could be exciting for a medical officer or a communication officer,” Branson noted as they walked away from the shuttlepod.

Antione had to admit he was not wrong in the assumption. This didn’t look like a mission that he would be very helpful at. “I have to agree with you there, but maybe we will be surprised.”

With his scanner out, Branson was trying to record everything as they made their way towards a much larger, greener field than the almost barren landing site the captain had picked. “My scanner seems to be limited in its range,” Branson noted, “I’m not a geologist, but I think it has something to do with the minerals in the ground. Does yours show the same?” 

The scanner was acting weird he had to admit, but it seemed as though the range was pushing through his scanner “It seems as if there is interference though it seems to be somewhat spotty. The information shows that we are not on sensors here.” 

“Again, I’m no tactician, but that might be good for this listening base. It may shield it from the Romulans detecting it.” Branson commented as they eventually started to stride through longer grass. “This almost reminds me of home.”

He nodded “I do think you are correct we should make sure this area is known in the report. I apologize, but I really am not sure where you live.”

“The Scottish Highlands are an area of pure beauty; nothing can compare to it,” Branson said, defending his homeland. “The summers there can be truly breathtaking.”

Antione nodded “Maybe I need to come to visit. I have been to a lot of places, but never there.”

“How many worlds have you been on since joining Starfleet?” Branson asked as they carried on walking.

Antione’s eyes looked away in concentration trying to remember where he had been. “I have been to about twenty worlds during my time, though that is still small compared to some.”

“I’ve been on a few, but none like this,” Branson said as he looked up at the clear blue sky. “It’s certainly warmer than the Scottish Highlands.” He started to unzip his collar and pulled his sunglasses out of his pockets to put on. “If the captain allows it, we could always come back and turn this place into more of a vacation spot-” However, before the doctor could speak another word, he fell downwards with Ricci beside him.

Both men fell into a large ditch. With a sudden thud, they landed on wet mud. Feeling the pain from his fall, Branson pushed himself up before seeing that he and Ricci were caked in the soil they had fallen into. “Ant, you okay?” He instantly asked as he stopped feeling dizzy.

Ant groaned and grabbed his head trying to help the pain in his head “Yeah I think I am ok…but this pain.” He tried to wipe the mud out of his eyes and face. The eyepatch was caked with mud he could feel the dirt under it, but just ignored it.

Branson ignored the pain, feeling bruising around his chest and legs as he peeled off his soaked jacket and top. Now in his vest, he attempted to see if there was a way out of the hole; however, there was no way out due to the smooth, slippery sides. “Someone dug this out.” He said as he cleaned his muddy hands on his trousers. 

“I saw that as well. I think this is going to be more exciting than we originally thought.”

“Can you raise anyone on your communicator?” Branson asked. “My communicator was smashed.” He gestured towards his broken device that was in pieces by his landing spot. 

He grabbed his pocket and could feel the smashed parts pulling them out and depositing them on the ground next to him. “I don’t think I will be able to help there either because mine is about the same as yours right now.”

Branson knew they would need to find another way out with no luck with their communicator. “I suppose we should just call out for help?”

He shrugged “I mean it is better than sitting in this mudhole any longer, but I can’t say anyone will hear us.”

Branson was about to call out but stopped when three human figures appeared at the top. Thinking it was his crewmates initially, the doctor was surprised to see they weren’t. All three women wore suit-like clothing that looked like they had time-travelled from Earth’s past. They seemed almost Edwardian or Victorian in their fashion. Their hairstyles were all identical, short bobs with tight ringlets. Also wrapped around their heads were bandannas with a few small decorative feathers and jewels attached. Holding what looked like rifles, they aimed them at the two men. Branson and Ricci both raised their hands after the women shouted something in an alien language at them.

“I’m Edward Branson; I’m a doctor; we bring you no harm!” Branson replied. 

The leader of the group, who was in the middle, called back something more alien. Branson indicated for Ricci to use the universal translator, and when she repeated the same statement, the UT could work out what she had said.

“Where are your mistresses?” 

Confused by such a question, Branson looked at Ricci for a clue; he had nothing to share.

“Get up, now!” The female leader said, aiming her rifle at Branson.

“We can’t; we’re trapped!” The doctor replied.

“I would love to get up, but I am currently trapped just like the fair doctor here.” He said calmly trying to make sure to keep the situation calm.

One of the other women lowered a rope down; it appeared strong enough for them to climb up.

“Leave your belongings down there!” The leader cried out.

Dropping everything they had, Branson and Ricci did as the women told them before climbing up. As soon as they were back up among the long grass, the women shouted at them to get on the floor with their hands behind their backs. 

They complied instantly, and Branson and Ricci were handcuffed before the women pulled them up to stand. 

“Welcome to Angel One!” The leader said before she took out what looked like a wet rag and smothered Ricci’s face. The communication officer struggled at first before he eventually passed out. 

“What do you want with us?” Branson asked as he tried to get out of his captor’s grip on him. He couldn’t believe how strong she was.

“Be quiet, man; you do not get to ask such questions.” The leader said before she used the back of her right hand to smack Branson’s mouth. It was such a hard slap that it knocked Branson backwards, and he felt the blood come out of his mouth afterwards. She then proceeded to kick him in the stomach before punching him one more time in the face. He fell backwards, and as his head hit the ground, he instantly lost consciousness. The women proceeded to cover both men with a net and drag them across the field to a destination unknown. 

“Actually, Mr Miller, it was twenty-eight days and seventeen hours,” Leonov said hotly from the command chair to the young lieutenant at Science. “And the Opportunity only passed the Pioneer’s record for furthest-travelled from Earth by point-three of a light-year, while we had first eyes on the Coriolis Nebula…”

Sitting on the bridge waiting for a landing party to finish could be dull, but Lieutenant Miller looked like he regretted trying to break the monotony by asking Commander Leonov about past Starfleet achievements. The chirrup from Communications should have been a pleasant interruption. But –

“Xiang to Endeavour, we’ve got a problem.“

Leonov stopped mid-tirade and turned back on the command chair to the front of the bridge. “Never a good sign,” she muttered, before tapping the armrest button to respond directly. “Go on, Commander.”

“We’ve got a pre-warp society down here with,” there was a pause over the comms for a moment, “yuck, muskets firing lead rounds.” So that was the quick and dirty explanation before Shu caught her breath, audibly going through the motions of slowing herself down. “Captain and I ran into some natives and with the Captain not being hot on my heels I’ve got to assume he’s either injured or captured or both.”

Or dead, Leonov thought, but didn’t say. She leaned forward on the seat. “Can you get back to the shuttlepod? We’ll call the other landing parties to reconvene and get an update and plan our next.” She looked up at the communications officer and said, in a lower voice to not be picked up by Xiang, “Get the Major on the bridge.”

The next call then came in from their armoury officer. “Gasset to Endeavour, Lieutenant Randall and I have just been attacked by the natives. They’ve taken him hostage, I’m heading to the shuttlepod now for backup!”  

“Actually,” Shu said, “I’m already at the shuttlepod. I dropped my communicator somewhere while running.” The sound of switches being flicked could be heard and the faint sound of a shuttlepod engine clearly spooling up. “Hills around here are laced with magnesite I think as well, making hand scanners pretty myopic. I’m not going to be able to be met up with our people easily. Best if everyone gets back to the shuttlepod first.”

Leonov worked her jaw and looked to the communications officer yet again. “Can you raise Lieutenant Ricci and the doctor?” she asked, and waited in silence while the bridge officer worked. After several long beats, there was nothing but a stern, disappointed shake of the head, and Leonov made a low noise of frustration before adjusting the comms to be patched through to both Xiang and Gasset. “Commander, Lieutenant, you seem to be the only members of the landing party we can reach. Run what scans you can from the shuttlepod while you wait for Lieutenant Gasset, Commander. When you’re reunited, I want you to take off. Use your judgement in doing a flyover of the nearby area, then get back to the ship. It looks like these natives are a lot more unwelcoming than we’d hoped, and I’m not losing more people while we don’t know what the hell is going on.”

“Acknowledged ma’am, I can see the shuttlepod ahead of me. I’m almost there!” Gasset said between breaths. 

The lift door whisked open and ejected the brown-and-black-uniform-clad Major Caidin onto the bridge with a purposeful hurry. 

“Commander Leonov…is it logical to assume that my urgently requested presence means that things have become…unwell?” She asked in a crisp tone devoid of emotion as if the increasingly frenetic anxious energy on the bridge deck had found little to no purchase in her yet.

“Unwell is one way to put it, Major,” Leonov drawled, not without an underlayer of tension. “It seems our landing parties have fallen foul of aggressive locals. Only Commander Xiang and Lieutenant Gasset have reported in, but we’re still getting a full picture.” 

”Alright.“ Saorise ‘Hex’ Caidin acknowledged, as she stepped down from the bridge deck and nearly leapt directly to the master situation table in two quick and long steps. “Tell what me what you need.”

“What I need is the full picture,” said Leonov flatly. “But I want your eyes and ears here while we learn as much as we can. Because there’s a non-zero chance this ends in an armed rescue mission.” She didn’t want to drop a MACO unit on a civilisation this much less-technologically advanced. But she was the XO of this ship. She knew where her first duty lay.

“Let’s continue scans of the surface,” she directed Miller. “Continue to map out our understanding of the lay of the land. And Comms? Keep on the line to the shuttlepod all the way back. I’m not losing anyone else today.”

Gradually, Campbell opened his eyes and noticed straight away his hands were tied closely together. The captain remembered what had happened by seeing that his feet were also bound together. A group of women had caught him; he looked at his surroundings and soon saw that he was not only just handcuffed in more than one way but was also tied up with someone else.

“You awake, captain?” Branson asked in a groggy voice behind him.

“I am, Ed,” Campbell answered. “Where are the others?”

Branson didn’t need to answer as Campbell noticed both Ricci and Randall tied up similarly as he was. “Are they-”

“Alive?” Branson completed before confirming they were. “I think our captors used some toxin to knock us out. I only just came around before you did, sir.”

“Any guesses as to where we are?” Campbell asked as he looked around their cell. It was a dark room with only two light sources peering through the roof. Whatever their prison was, their cell was a small, cuboid shape with solid cement walls around them and a singular steel door being the only way in and out.

“Certainly not Kansas, sir,” Branson answered. “I’ve not seen or heard anyone else.” 

The other two started to stir.

Randall’s bullet wound had been crudely bandaged. Blood continued to stain the bandage. He slowly tried to sit up. His face seemed drained. “Where are we, captain?”

“My best bet is a jail of some sort, Josh,” Campbell answered as he looked around their surroundings one more time. “Where on the planet, I have no clue. Are you okay?”

“I feel weak, sir.” He checked the bandage on his left arm. He held his hand out. “I’m still bleeding, sir…I think the bullet is still inside my arm.”

Ricci rubbed his head before shaking it, trying to reorient himself, adjusting to the difference in light. “Well, this doesn’t look like the ship, captain. What happened, or are we still trying to figure that out?” He asked.

“It would appear our sensor scans missed that this planet is inhabited,” Campbell answered. “That said, who these people are is a different set of questions all by themselves.”  

Ricci nodded. “I understand, sir. I would be able to make a crude attempt with the right supplies, but given we have been stripped of everything; I don’t have anything to work with.” He paused. “This reminds me of so many old films it’s not funny, though I never thought I would be here.”

“So if we’re all here, where’s Lieutenant Gasset and Commander Xiang?” Branson asked the others.

“I covered Xiang as she retreated to get to the shuttlepod to get word to Endeavour,” Campbell answered. “I hope she made it.”

Very weakly, Randal said, “Do we have any water, sir?”

Just then, the door opened, and a woman wearing similar attire to the women who attacked them appeared with a rifle aimed at them. Another woman accompanied her, but this time she shoved a couple of plates of what looked like food. Shouting something at them in her alien language, the guard closed the door with great force. The slamming noise echoed in the small cell they were in. 

Without their universal translators, the men had no idea what she had said to them. Campbell turned to Ricci and asked if he was able to work out what she had said.

Ricci thought for a moment about what had been said. He wasn’t one hundred per cent sure of the dialect, but he could make a rough guess of a few words. “I think they were cursing us for being men…Sir.”

Randall looked at what the women left and then passed out.

“Damn it,” Branson cursed after seeing Ricci pass out. “We need to get out of these restraints.”

Campbell tried to pull at the handcuffs and the tight rope around him and the doctor. “There’s no way we’re getting out of these anytime soon.”

“Whoever these women are, I’m getting the distinct impression they’re no fans of the male gender,” Branson stated before noticing something in the corner of the cell. “Ant, look, I know you’re tied up, but can you drag yourself and Randall over to that corner? There’s a constant stream of water coming in there. Can you see it?”

Antione strained his eyes in the darkness, looking for the stream of water and nodded. “Give me a second.” He grunted as he began to move towards the stream with Randall positioned to be in place for the water to hit his face.

“Get yourself into position, and the cold shock of the water should bring Josh around; then we need to get some medical help,” Branson said. 

Ricci immediately followed the order and got Randall in position before looking to the captain. “I am in position.” 

The water started to help keep Randall conscious, however, it alerted their jailers to what was going on. More of the women came in and dragged both Randall and Ricci out. Campbell and Branson started to shout out at their captors, demanding they bring them back. Their calls for help were not listened to and the door was slammed on them again. 

“If Josh doesn’t get the right medical treatment, he’ll either bleed out or die from an infection,” Branson said after a moment. 

“Damn it,” Campbell cursed. 

As they were pushed down the corridor, all in handcuffs and chains around their waists that connected each of them to one another, Campbell took in the scene they were in. The setting was some sort of large palace, based on the long granite-like flooring beneath them and the huge walls filled with grandiose pieces of artwork. He felt like he was touring one of the old Royal households that his parents had taken him to see when he was growing up. The guards, who were all female and all of them wore the same military-like uniform while holding old fashion guns in their hands, were pushing them along the corridor until they reached a huge circular room.

Pleased to see that they had returned Randall to their group after treating him, the captain was curious to find out what was happening. Entering the room, which looked like a chamber of sorts with its various regal-style chairs dotted around the edge, the group were forced to stand in the centre. Moments later, to the right side, a large door opened and several more women entered. One of them had a young man with her, he carried the edge of her cape that was attached to what she wore. He seemed like the same age as Randall, maybe early twenties and wore the finest jewellery compared to anyone else in the room. His clothing was also quite revealing, in the sense his bottoms were pretty much skin-tight while his shirt, which appeared to be made out of a material similar to velvet, was cut low and revealed his bare chest.

Branson elbowed Campbell slightly and gestured with a raising of his chin at a table near the chair the main woman with the cape had sat on. On it was all of their equipment, including one of their communicators that was flipped open and active.

Nodding to Branson, the captain turned to their captors. “Do you understand me?” He asked.

The woman, who must have been the leader, shouted back at him several words in an alien language. Seeing that the communicator working, Campbell continued. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

She screamed at him this time before one of the guards came from behind and hit the captain hard in the back of his knee with the butt of their rifle.

“Easy!” Branson shouted back as he grabbed hold of the captain as fell to the floor. “We don’t understand what you’re saying!” He turned to Ricci, “Ant, can you understand what they’re saying?”

Ant nodded “They said to be quiet or you’ll see worse than this.”

“You speak our language?” The woman on the throne said as she stood up. “Impressive for such a weak man.”

“Our devices,” Campbell said as he got back up before continuing, “allow us to communicate.”

She looked at them and then back to the group. “You are invaders to my land.”

“No, explorers,” Campbell replied. “I’m Captain Oliver Campbell and we come in peace.”

“No man has the right to tell me his intentions,” She hissed back at him as she continued to study all four men. “You do not wear the robes of any man that we encounter, it is a disgrace!” She pointed at the uniforms before looking at the young man servant who had helped her with her cloak/cape. “If they are to serve me, then I expect them properly dressed.”

“Yes mistress,” The servant said in a timid tone before bowing his head.

She looked back at the group, “What are you captain of?” She asked directly at Campbell.

“I command a-” Campbell paused as he realised that this civilisation was certainly a pre-warp one. If he mentioned they were from Earth could he cause havoc with them? He had read the many suggestions made by the Vulcans and lately Commodore Archer about avoiding contact with pre-warp civilisations. They had avoided it back on the Akaali homeworld, he needed to do the same here. “I command a ship.” He shared.

“No man is allowed to hold such a prestigious posting,” She replied. “Where are your mistresses?”

“Our mistresses?” Campbell asked, confused.

Branson soon realised what was going on and spoke up. “They will come and find us and won’t be happy you’ve taken us.”

The mistress looked at her prisoners and glared at Branson. “You are a pretty one with courage, I will have you and him,” She pointed to the captain. “As my personal attendees, the other two may go and help in the kitchens or somewhere out of my sight!”

Ant scoffed under his breath but knew this wasn’t the time to try and pick a fight. He looked at Campbell and nodded. After previous missions, it was always his signal that he would be on the lookout. He was quickly ushered away with Randall beside him. “Looks like we’re to become cooks.”

Randall stopped moving and held his ground. Then he turned and shouted towards the leader, “I am my captain’s bodyguard! I will not be separated from him!” He saw the guards approaching. “Remove these chains and I will fight all of you until I stand alone and by my captain’s side!”

Surprised at the lieutenant’s reaction, Campbell shot him a look and beckoned him to calm himself down. “Stand down, Joshua. Do as they say!”

One of the guards came over and slapped Joshua in the face and sneered at him. “Do as you’re told, or you will become my pet!” The muscular woman said with a lot of conviction.

The men were escorted out of the chamber and towards their new jobs. Campbell could only imagine what they were about to encounter.

The shuttlepod had barely touched the deck before Leonov’s instructions came through: all remaining senior staff, especially members of the landing party, were to gather in the command centre. By the time the officers arrived, the XO was already in there with all their limited pertinent sensor readings of the surface of Alpha Gruis One on display.

With the landing team last to arrive, Leonov’s eyes landed on Xiang and Gasset with an assessing air. “Commander, Lieutenant – you seem in one piece. Good.” Their health seemed a matter more of satisfaction than any warm relief. “What the hell happened down there, and just how bad is this?”

“We got jumped,” Shu blurted out. “Sensors scans have missed an entire bleeding civilization down there,” she elaborated. Her Aussie accent, typically something she worked to take the edges off of, was making itself known with the stress of the situation. “Captain ordered me back to the shuttle, said he was right behind me. Suffice to say, I won’t be making that mistake again. He goes first from now on.”

Shu stepped forward to the table in the middle of the room and produced the flattened mushroom of metal she’d recovered after she and the captain had been shot at. “No stun settings with these ladies. Tall too.” She placed the spent round down for all to see, or pick up and examine. “Ten-millimetre round, late musket or early rifle. That is going to mess anyone up it finds.”

“I’d say we’re dealing with a matriarchal society, most likely pre-warp too,” Gasset said as she slumped into one of the stools. “They were quick, tough and fierce. Two of them were able to hold Randall down without breaking a sweat,” She turned to the major. “If we’re going to attempt a rescue then we’ll need the MACOs in full force.”

“That’s a possibility we’re going to be ready for, and I want you working on options, Major,” Leonov said quickly, gaze landing on Caidin before it swept back to take in everyone. “But I want that as our fall-back choice.”

“Understood, Commander.” The Major responded as she adjusted the scope on her pulse rifle. “Knowing if those firearms of theirs are properly rifled or not would be really advantageous however…I’d like to know exactly how close our marksmen teams can safetly out range them…”

“We’ve stumbled on top of, as the commander put it, an ‘entire bleeding civilisation,’” Leonov elaborated with a simple shrug. “I’m not thrilled that their first choice was to open fire, but we ran onto their turf. We also know almost nothing about them. Once upon a time, Starfleet came out here to make new friends, not new enemies. I’d rather we exhaust our scientific and diplomatic options before we run the risk of losing or taking lives.”

“We could start with old-style radio, see if anyone, any at all, is listening down there?” Shu said with a hint in her voice telling of her own lack of faith in that idea. “Failing that, bloody obvious shuttle landing in an open field and wait for them to come to us? Open terrain gives both sides the illusion of distance as defence and the chance to yell at each other safely.”

Gasset shook her head. “No, we need to do our own reconnaissance on them. First off, we need to learn their language. Observe general behaviour. Maybe a few of us go undercover, posing as the locals. We have an experienced quartermaster and instead of using the shuttlepods we go down via the transporter.” The armoury officer was feeling they were missing something. They needed to know more. Pure investigation was required here. “If we can work out where the captain and the others are kept, we may be able to beam them up when not in view of the inhabitants, that said we need to know why our sensors didn’t pick them up in the first place. Maybe there’s some kind of natural barrier we’re missing? An ore that blocks sensors, or an ionic disturbance in the atmosphere we’re not familiar with.” 

“Agreed,” said Leonov, nodding to Gasset. “Maybe we do have to open communication blatantly, but we need to know more first. Or we just risk a new firefight in an open field. But we can make this two-pronged: going in undercover, and more recon by shuttlepod. Our usual sensors might be ineffective, but we can keep a craft high enough they won’t see and conduct surveillance with magnification, recording, so forth. A little bit more old-fashioned. Gives us the lay of the land physically instead of just going walkabout on an alien world.” She looked at the two survivors of the landing party. “Did you get a good look at their faces? Physiology? What do we need to go incognito?”

“They appear human and I’d say they almost wear the same clothing as the early twentieth century,” Gasset replied. “Before you ask how I can be so precise, I’ve watched a lot of films based in that era. Their clothing almost looks like the type of clothing you see in a period drama, very regal in appearance but as they appear to be a matriarchal society, the clothes the women wear are more…” Gasset paused as she considered her words carefully. “More masculine,” she chose. “No long dresses, for example.”

“…function and form?” Caidin commented with a raised eyebrow. “…I may have to go shopping for a new wardrobe next time we get shore leave.”

At that point, First Lieutenant Flynn Trommler arrived in the command centre. “Sorry for the intrusion, commander, major,” He said looking at both Leonov and Caidin, “but someone told me my husband is missing and has been kidnapped.”

The Major looked over at her subordinate and nodded. “I am sorry, Trommler, that does appear to be the situation on the ground.” 

“Sorry Trommler, my bad,” Shu admitted. “I…next time when the captain tells me to run, I’ll make sure he’s running before I do.”

Hearing that, Trommler took a moment. Even when the Orions had boarded the ship and had hurt Lloyd, he had never been far away from him. “Any rescue plan, I’d like to be a part of,” He insisted with determination. 

Saorise Caidin crossed the distance of the command centre with a few quick strides to place a firm grasp on Trommler’s shoulder. “I get that you are motivated, First Lieutenant…but in the field, that level of emotional investment can cut both ways.”

”I get that me being married to the captain hasn’t always been the easiest for everyone,” Trommler looked from the major and then to the commander, “and it may make some of you uncomfortable but I made a vow to him. For better or worse.”

“I want you to take a mental step back.” The Major said, her voice level and calm, yet firm as her continued grasp on the First Lieutenant’s shoulder. “Take a look at the situation objectively, with as much professional detachment as you can muster…take a breath, and then tell me that you can see this through with a clear head. Do that for me and I’ll clear you for the field.”

Trommler took a breath, he nodded. “I understand, ma’am, I do. However, I’m the deputy commander of our detachment and though my husband is in danger, so are the lives of other crew members. Put me in the field, I promise you that you won’t regret it!” Trommler stated. 

The Major was silent in contemplation for a moment and then gave a firm and hardy slap to Trommler’s shoulders. “Alright then. You’re in. I want teams kitted out for rescue and reconnaissance, with the shuttle fitted for hazardous extraction…just in case. The Gals in the purple jumpsuits over here, are coming up with other options…we’re the go-to plan bravo, which means if we have to get involved, we will be going in hot, heavy, and at half-a-moment’s notice. Savvy?”

“Gals in purple?” Shu said quietly, very quietly, as she plucked at her own jumpsuit. “Always thought it was more blue myself.” She looked at the planetary map on the main display and hummed to herself. “I’ll get teams on the shuttlepods right away. We’ll strap every extra sensor to the undersides that we can and get them flying a grid as quick as we can.”

”That would be good…I hate going in blind.” Saorise noted in response, before allowing herself a small smirk and a side comment. “And it’s definitely a shade of purple. Blue tastes differently….anyways, make sure one shuttlepod is left without all those extra add-ons. If we do have to pull off an extraction under fire, I would rather not have my ride laden down so.”

Leonov had looked a little awkward at Trommler’s arrival, like she was biting her tongue, but the major’s intervention saved her giving a lecture on emotional distance herself. She raised a hand at the discussion of outfitting the shuttles. “Leave one shuttlepod ready to deploy. But the MACOs are a last-ditch option. I know we’re apprehensive after the Orions attacked us. But we are the intruders here, however hostile their response.”

She paused a moment, tapping the metal edge of the console as she considered. “Gasset and I will plan for the landing party. Xiang, get the shuttlepods ready, but I want you to join us beaming down. Major.” She looked up at Caidin. “Do you want to be boots on the ground with us for recon, or planning from up here?”

”Boots.” The Major responded as she slapped the retracted scope back into the body of her rifle. “If things do go wrong, I would like to respond as quickly as possible, until our drop team can arrive…besides if you are doing recon, it would help to have someone actually trained to do reconnaissance.”

Gasset cleared her throat. “As a former member of the Earth Global Defence Force, I’d be able to undertake that job with your assistance, thank you, major.” The armoury officer said, slightly irritated at the lack of consideration from the MACO leader. 

Leonov looked to Trommler. “I’m not bringing you on recon, Lieutenant, not if there are local gender dynamics at play we don’t understand, and frankly, not with your personal bias. The shuttlepods will pipe their findings back up to Endeavour and we’ll report in with as complete information as we can get. You can plan, Lieutenant.”

Saorise offered a slight frown in response to the Commander ordering her own XO around…technically, MACOs were not under the direct control or command of the Starfleet Chain of Command…but the situation was already tense and obviously weighing heavily on everyone’s shoulders, so she let slide for now…besides, Leonov’s logic was sound if stated with more emotion than the Major would utilize.

Trommler nodded once at the commander. He knew that Oliver would kill him if he made even more of a scene in front of the rest of the senior staff. “I understand, commander.” 

“I’ll speak to our quartermaster to start preparing appropriate clothing to help us blend in,” Gasset remarked to Leonov. “We should also study the local area to see if a team infiltrating during the night would be best suited compared to the day. That said, we don’t want to arouse any suspicion among the locals. A group of strangers roaming around at night may ring some alarm bells.”

Leonov arched an eyebrow at the exchange between Gasset and Caidin. “I’m in command of this ship and this mission, Major. I decide who goes where to recover the captain and the others. If things go wrong, we are withdrawing and considering our options. But yes, it has occurred to me somewhere down the line that this might not be possible. However.” She lifted a hand to forestall any further comment, gaze sweeping across the gathered. “I reiterate: we know little to nothing about these people, and we will rectify that. We intruded on their society, and they retaliated, and while we will rescue our crew, we will do so in full awareness that the initial hostility was ours. If we have to double down on that, we have abhorrently failed.” She drew a deep breath. “We go out there. We learn more. We figure out how to open negotiations. Humanity didn’t come to space so we could meet new people and shoot them because it was convenient.”

She straightened. “You have your orders. Dismissed.”

After being shoved into a room that appeared to be used by the mistresses’ servants to live in. It wasn’t decorated as luxurious compared to the chamber they had just been in. However, long dark red drapes were hanging around the room, breaking up the room where neatly made beds were situated. At one end were tall windows that appeared to go out into a balcony.  

Once the guards were satisfied that neither Campbell nor Branson would do anything foolish they left the room with the young servant that had been with the leader, locking the door behind them. The young man, who had short but curly blonde hair took a deep breath and motioned for Branson and Campbell to follow him to the other side of the room, away from the door. 

“Welcome to Angel One,” He said quietly. “I’m Samiwell, Chief Mistress Trista’s senior personal attendee.” 

Both Starfleet officers looked at one another and then back to their ‘host’. Campbell replied. “You understand us?”

Samiwell pulled out the communicator that had been used in the chamber from under his shirt and passed it to them. “You mentioned this was helping you.” 

Slowly, Campbell took the communicator. “Thank you,” He replied. “I’m Oliver and this is Ed.”

“Unusual names,” Samiwell said. “You’re not from our land, are you?”

Branson shook his head. “No, we’re not.”

“You said you were the captain of a ship, is your land on a faraway island?” Samiwell questioned. 

Campbell nodded. “Something like that, yes.”

“You both look strong,” The attendee replied, “Mistress Trista will appreciate you if you show her obedience.”

“Samiwell, we’re not planning on staying here to become her slaves,” Campbell replied. “We want to get back to our ship and find our crew.”

Appearing confused and uncertain about the situation, Samiwell became flustered. “I don’t understand, the women from your island are they not in charge of you?”

Branson shook his head. “No, we’re all equal.”

Samiwell was now shocked. “How? The mistresses here at Angel One are our protectors, our leaders, and our thinkers. The men of this land are here to help, to serve, to care, to assist in raising the next generation.”

“Will you help us escape?” Campbell asked.

The young man shook his head. “I can’t, Mistress Trista will not be happy with me. I’d lose my job. I won’t be desired. She protects me. She provides for me. I don’t want to be hurt.”

Concerned to see the young lad react like that, Branson spoke up. “Samiwell, does she hurt you?”

“Only if I get something wrong,” He replied and proceeded to lift his shirt to show a massive bruise against his skinny chest. 

Stepping forward, to check it out, Branson assured Samiwell. “I’m a doctor, let me check that for you.”

Appearing nervous and worried, Samiwell just nodded as Branson checked his injury over. “Men aren’t allowed to be doctors or healers of any kind.”

“In our land, they are,” Campbell assured him. 

Branson looked at Samiwell, “I think you have a broken rib there. Does it hurt to breathe?”

“Sometimes,” Samiwell nodded. 

“One of the items we had taken from us was my medical kit,” Branson stated. “If you can get your hands on it, I may be able to give you something for the pain relief.”

Pushing his shirt back down, the young lad considered the idea. “If I help you, will you take me with you? I’ve always wanted to be a healer.”

Branson and Campbell looked again at one another. Campbell considered his decision. “Let’s take this one step at a time for now.”

“Okay,” Samiwell said, sounding disappointed. “Before the guards return, I need to get you both ready.”

“How?” Branson asked.

Samiwell walked over to a wooden cupboard and opened both of its doors. “Here, go into the changing rooms, use the baths to clean yourselves and put these clothes on.” Pulling out similar outfits that he was wearing, Samiwell passed them both the items they needed to wear.

“This looks very small for us,” Campbell noted. 

“Indeed, men’s clothing is designed to be tighter to ensure our posture is appropriate and for our form to please our mistresses,” Samiwell noted. 

“Interesting,” Branson remarked before Samiwell showed them over to the changing facilities.

Several minutes later, Campbell and Branson exited the smaller rooms they had used to get themselves cleaned up and changed into. Samiwell approached them and with what looked like a comb started to change the style of both of their hair. “Mistress Trista likes her men to have their hair in a similar style and she likes us to be clean-shaven.” He passed them both a razor. “Everywhere.”

“Everywhere?” Branson repeated.

“Everywhere,” Samiwell confirmed as he indicated the chest hair and other parts of their bodies. 

Eventually, both Starfleet officers were able to sort themselves out as instructed by Samiwell. The lad also pierced their ears and placed exotic jewellery on them. Rings on their hands, along with silver bracelets and chain necklaces around their necks. They were almost finished when the door to the room was then unlocked and Chief Mistress Trista entered with her guards. 

“Ah, Samiwell, my loyal attendee. You have done a superb job with my new men.” She said with a smile as she inspected both Campbell and Branson. “They’re almost as pretty as you.”

“I’m glad to please you, my mistress,” Samiwell said as he bowed his head.

“Take them both to my personal chambers and make sure you show them how to please me further,” She looked at her guards and motioned for them to escort her new attendees. 

After a few minutes of being shown down several more corridors and two flights of stairs, they arrived in another room. It was huge and had guards outside the main door. Before they entered, Samiwell turned to them both and said, “Follow my lead and you’ll stay alive.” 

Branson and Campbell were both alarmed by his words. Campbell took a breath in, hoping that at some point someone from the Endeavour would save them. He could only imagine what Ricci was having to deal with elsewhere while they were captors.

“Gav, if you touch that speaker one more time I will cut you,” came Shu’s voice from inside one of the shuttlepods in the bay. Her words blended between an Australian and North American accent, like someone trying for the latter but reverting to the former.

For the three other engineers working on the outside of the shuttlepod, the pronouncement had come out of nowhere, though one of them had stepped closer to a rolling tool chest, where on top of it was a portable speaker that was cheerfully blasting out the play by play of a rugby game. The chest had been parked by one of the shuttlepod’s open doors, the speaker aimed more to direct in through the open hatch, but it could still be heard happily throughout the bay.

Shuttlepod 1 had transformed from its usual boxy, vaguely aerodynamic contours, for a brick with engines that is, to an actual brick with engines. It would still outperform anything pre-WW3 in an atmosphere, but that was by sheer power and inertial compensators allowing for stupid gee-loads on craft and passengers. This wasn’t elegant and had been made less so by the additional sensor packages that had been strapped to the vessel’s exterior.

There wasn’t much this shuttle couldn’t see now, as long as it was flying under twenty kilometers above the surface. In other words, much, much closer to the surface than Endeavour herself could get.

“Aye ma’am, wouldn’t think of it,” said one of the engineers as he finished approaching the tool chest to put what was in his hands back and grab another couple. “Besides, now the Ferns are back in the lead I’m interested again.”

“Amen to that,” Shu announced, followed shortly by what sounded like something shorting, a few thuds of dropped tools and then a series of expletives before anyone could ask if she was okay. “Dammit to hell! Susie, we’re gonna need another TRX-18 from stores.”

“Again?” a blonde petty officer said as she downed tools and leaned inside the shuttlepod to confirm her boss’ request, then sighed. “I’m telling you, ma’am, we’re gonna need to step down voltage from all the pallets before they hit the TRX or we’ll just cook another.”

“I’m big enough to know when I’m wrong,” Shu admitted as she climbed out, handing over the avionics component, no bigger than a toaster, to the other woman. “Get this down to Engineering as well, tell George it needs a refurb, then grab a spare and whatever you think we need to make this work.”

“Aye.” And with that PO3 Susie Thompson was on her way, pausing just briefly at the bay door to let Ensign de Sousa step through with a respectful ‘Ma’am’ before disappearing into the ship.

“Take fifteen,” Shu said to the other two engineers who most certainly didn’t need to be told twice. They both opted to clear the area around the shuttle and the officers, opting to sit against a wall with some sandwiches and water, talking quietly amongst themselves. As for herself, she reached out to quieten the rugby game just as the announcer was exclaiming another try for the Ferns, then sat herself down on the lower rim of the starboard hatch.

She’d opted for rolling the top half of her jumpsuit around her waist, working in the confines of the pod with a collection of electrical equipment doing a passable job as space-heaters in there. And she was herself suffering for it, likely why she was letting her team take a break – so she could have one too.

“Ensign,” Shu finally said, a smile on her face. “What the heck did your parents feed you?”

Deneva subconsciously began to tug at her sleeves and adjust her uniform, but the smile she returned to Shu was entirely earnest. “Only the finest reconstituted cuisine Earth has to offer. To be fair, sometimes it did taste a bit like fertilizer.”

She approached Shu and the shuttlepod more closely, bending slightly at the waist to get a better look at the attached equipment. “Wow. This looks…”

Her brows twisted as she ran all the words she wanted to say through the equation of ‘don’t insult the engineers’ hard work or denigrate your own flying skills’. Eventually she crossed her arms over her chest and settled on: “This looks like a fun challenge.”

“It’s a brick and I’ve made it worse, you can say it.” Shu half laughed as she stood up to clear the hatch and found herself once more looking up at Deneva. And up. And up…

The grin on her face was mischievous, reaching to her eyes, before she shook it away. “You’ll be relying more on the antigravs and engines than those pathetic flight surfaces,” Shu said, pointing at the stubby wings with her chin briefly. “But I doubt they’ll have anything that’ll threaten you. If you get low enough they might damage a sensor pallet, but think of them as sciencey ablative armour.”

“Ha!” Deneva slapped her thigh with her PADD. “‘Sciencey ablative armour’, I love it. Well,” she said, tapping the PADD with her finger, “They’re an early industrial society with ballistics, so I only have to stay out of, what, cannonball range? I’ve never flown a brick through a troposphere before, but I think I’ll be able to get pretty low without denting my armour, knock-on-wood.” 

She punctuated her sentence by rapping her knuckles against her head.

“Keep above three or four kilometres and you should be golden,” Shu confirmed. “And if you do get shot out, just gun it. Everyone loves a sonic boom.”

The engineer then indicated for Deneva to take a peek inside the shuttlepod at the slight modifications inside. “No changes to flight or engine controls, but we’ve thrown in another monitor for whoever is managing the sensors and an extra comm set to relay the raw data back to the ship in real-time. Camera resolution might call for a couple of low passes to get a look at the locals if Endeavour can’t do it from orbit with all those fancy telescopes we’ve got onboard.”

“Hmm!” Deneva’s smile broadened. “Well, if I have to hit Mach One in the atmosphere or make any low passes for the sake of the greater mission, then I’ll begrudgingly do so. But I’m just a little disappointed that I’ll be too busy flying to get a proper look at the locals with my own eyes. This Amazon society has definitely piqued my curiosity.”

“You’ll be way too high to see anything anyway,” Shu countered. “But yah, colour me interested too. Less so being shot at again though.”

She then climbed into the pod and set herself down at the engineer’s station. “While I got you here, want to sit yourself down and help me run through a quick system test? Make sure I didn’t cross any wires when I was wiring in the new sensors. And once done, lunch?” Shu asked. “Susie is a way better electrician than I am and I trust my team to finish the rest.”

“I could eat,” Deneva agreed. She followed Shu into the pod and carefully folded herself into the pilot’s seat, then glanced over her shoulder and smirked. “As long as neither one of us electrocutes ourselves while we’re flipping these switches, right?”

Samiwell was helping Doctor Branson apply the thick black eyeliner that Chief Mistress Trista liked them to wear. It was early morning and the personal attendees were getting themselves ready for what lay ahead of them for the day. 

“I got to admit, I didn’t think I’d like the eyeliner or the blusher, but it’s kind of making me look pretty,” Branson shared with a smirk.

From behind him, placing several rings on his fingers and necklace chains, Captain Campbell chuckled. “I’m pretty certain as prisoners, we’re not meant to be enjoying our captivity, Ed.”

“We are not prisoners, we serve the will of our chief mistress,” Samiwell reminded them. He took in a deep breath and winced slightly.

Noticing the young lad showing discomfort, Branson looked at him. “Those ribs still hurting?”

He nodded.

“The chief mistress was a bit more hands-on with him last night,” Campbell said as he finished getting himself ready. 

“I am her senior attendee. It is expected.” Samiwell said in between breaths as he finished his work on Branson.

Ed shook his head, “It doesn’t have to be. It’s not right that one being can own another in such a way.”

“If it pleases the mistress,” Samiwell said. “I should finish getting myself ready.” He paused and smiled sweetly at Branson. “I do appreciate you looking out for me.” Samiwell placed a reassuring hand on Branson’s left shoulder before he walked over to the other side of the room where he slept and began changing his shirt, revealing the bruises and marks against his chest and back. 

Branson grumbled at the sight but Campbell gave him an assuring look. Whispering he shared his plan. “When we leave here, I noticed last night as we were preparing the mistress’ bath she had some of our gear stowed away on a bookshelf. One of them is my communicator and part of your medical kit.”

“What part of my kit?” Branson whispered.

“Your medicine pouch.”

Branson looked at Campbell, “if I can get my hands on it then there’s a hypospray in there filled with pain relief and suppressants. We could help Samiwell and he may be prepared to help us.”

“Agreed,” Campbell said with a nod. 

At that point, the door to their room opened with loud creaking noise as the guards entered, all women, and was followed by someone pushing a trolley filled with food. The guards then left and closed the door behind him.

“Oh my god,” Branson said in surprise and was impressed to see Lieutenant Ricci. “Ant, are you okay?”

Seeing and hearing his communications officer’s name, Campbell turned on his heels to face Ricci. “Antione, thank goodness you’re alive.”

The whole experience from the start had been humiliating for Ricci. He didn’t mind fixing food but in this situation it was horrible. He had fixed breakfast with the other cooks and got pushed to the cart and told to follow the guards. He complied though on the inside he was not happy to be separated from his crew mates.

As Ricci entered the room he smiled slightly seeing Campbell and Branson “I am about as ok as I can be given the current situation. Captain, I won’t die easily, especially if the crew is in danger.”

“Oliver, Ed, we should not discuss so much while the guards are outside,” Samiwell warned. 

Campbell turned to the young man. “Samiwell, this is Antione, he is our friend and was sent to the kitchens. Do you remember?”

“I do, but the chief mistress’s personal attendees do not mix with those who prepare her meals,” Samiwell said.

Ed shook his head at that remark and turned to Ricci. Ricci looked as if he had been working all day and night. “How bad is it where you are?”

Ricci shook his head “I am exhausted I feel like the last time I got sleep was the night before we arrived…in fact, I think that’s the case. They have kept me in the kitchen cooking with little to no breaks. I have barely eaten anything in days.”

Campbell insisted that his communication officer take something from the trolley he had brought in. “Keep your strength up, lieutenant. We think we know how to get a message out to the ship.”

Ricci snatched up a delicious-looking pastry and ate it in a quick manner wiping his face to make sure no trace evidence was left. It felt good to have something to eat though he knew if he ate anymore he would be sick. 

“My communicator is on the bookshelf in the chief mistress’ chambers,” Campbell explained. “If even one or two of us can sneak in there then we should try.”

Branson looked at the trolley that Ricci had brought in. It was covered with a white sheet and had a shelf on the bottom. He smirked and gestured to it. “I have an idea, sir.” 

Campbell looked at him, the trolley and then grinned. He turned to Ricci. “Lieutenant, do you think you could push the good doctor under there into her room while Samiwell and I keep up appearances?”

Ricci nodded “If it’s a way to get us out of here I am willing to try anything at this point, sir.”

“Then let’s do it,” Campbell insisted. 

“I mean, it looks good, but damn is some of this get up a pain in the backside,” Shu complained as the three women climbed the small rise up to the road. She was tugging at various parts of her get-up, styled after what had been spotted and a bit of imagination from a few folks in the quartermaster’s office to give them a slightly exotic look.

Not locals at the least, to help sell any quirks or non-cultural normative behaviours they might express.

“Though I am loving the leather boots,” she continued, showing off the tan leather boots she was wearing.

“The boots are fantastic,” Deneva agreed, admiring them for a moment before resuming her wide-eyed scanning of their surroundings. She’d been on plenty of extrasolar planets in her life, but she’d never set foot on one uninvited before.

North of their present location and about half an hour’s walk away was a small village Shu and Deneva had spotted during their shuttle flyovers the previous day and night. It lay astride a seemingly well-used road that lead to a larger settlement a few hours away and its small size had made it an ideal target for a bit of intelligence gathering before any further actions were taken. They’d even identified a building frequented by those journeying up and down the road, stopping for an hour or two before continuing on their way.

A dropped transponder in a nearby copse of trees had provided a beam down site for the trio, out of sight, off the road and far, far more conspicuous than a shuttlepod parked somewhere relying on no one stumbling across it at some terribly inconvenient moment. But it had left them tramping through woods in not terribly versatile disguises for a quarter of an hour before the civility of a crushed road.

Gasset had found some of their outfit quite tight in places, compared to the standard Starfleet jumpsuit uniform they were used to. The armoury chief was constantly finding herself hovering her fingertips above the concealed weapon she had in the satchel by her side. Though they were unable to make a weapon that appeared native, the hidden phase pistol would hopefully not be needed. Turning to the chief engineer, Gasset asked if they were going in the right direction. “Are we almost there?” She added.

“So, the village should be that way,” Shu said, a confident flick of her head to the north along the road. “The plan is pretty simple – get in, have ourselves a bit of a quiet time, and let the UT pick up as much conversation as it can handle. Then ask a few questions, see what the local rumour mills have to say, or see if there are any newspapers or broadsheets we can scan and send back to the ship. We’re just trying to find out where the captain is and don’t need to start anything just yet.”

Gasset nodded with approval of the plan. Gathering intelligence about this species was vital to any rescue mission they may undertake to rescue the captain, the doctor and their linguist. “Let’s just hope the universal translator can work out their language quickly without us causing any issues.” She stated as her boots hit another lot of gravel. “I have to admit, I am curious to understand how a world developed where the females were the dominant gender.”

”Well, nature has female dominance all over the place on Earth.” Shu turned, confident enough to walk backwards for a bit while conversing. “Praying mantis, spiders, orcas – just to name a few. Just us humans had to go and get it backwards.”

“Could you imagine what Earth would have been like if women were the dominant gender?” Gasset asked with a brief chuckle. “The third world war may have not happened and it would have been Doctor Lily Sloane who invented the warp drive with Cochrane as her assistant.”

“So I would have learned the Sloane Deceleration Manoeuvre instead of the Cochrane Deceleration Manoeuvre in STC?” Deneva mused. “I like that, it’s catchier.”

Deneva had naturally found herself a few strides ahead of the others, but she slowed to nearly a stop when the first signs of the village and its inhabitants came into view, and awkwardly shuffled in place until both senior officers were several steps ahead of her once again.

”Okay…this is it.“ Shu took two deep breaths, bounced up on the balls of her feet three times, and then turned to the others. “Until the UT catches up we’re gonna have to play it by ear so remember we’re confident and capable Starfleet officers. And we’re clueless tourists, so play to that if you have to.“

“Confident and clueless: got it!” Deneva nodded curtly and wandered boldly forward. Immediately to her left, there was what sounded like a blacksmith shop that she drifted towards out of genuine curiosity, until she realised that a clanging hammer would not be particularly useful to the UT and she veered away.

Gasset could see from the village that those who were doing most of the hard labour work were the men, but they appeared a lot smaller than the average human man. Most of them were working in groups or pairs to accomplish their work. Several women, taller women that is, walked past them and gave them a curt nod. They wore similar attire as Gasset, Shu, and de Sousa. While she noticed de Sousa visit a nearby blacksmith, they passed what appeared to be a small market stall filled with freshly baked goods. Most of it appeared edible, but without Branson with them to identify if it was okay to eat or if it was poisonous, she wasn’t risking getting ill from some alien food. Several guards then made their way through the village, all women and all armed.

“They certainly know how to show a sense of power and force,” Gasset whispered to Shu.

“Testosterone-fuelled displays aren’t just limited to men,” Shu replied quietly while turning her head to watch a pair of guards as they went past, watching them for a moment longer than was strictly necessary. “And can we really say we’re above doing as such?”

Eventually, they approached the tavern and Gasset insisted she entered first to ensure it was safe. Stepping in, they found it busy but not jam-packed. In the corner, there was an empty booth with a table. She motioned for them to take it. Concealing their UTs, the team started to get to work in an attempt to understand the alien culture and language.

Taking a brief moment, Shu looked inside her jacket at the UT on her belt, studying the display. “Getting some good data here,” she said. “But could do better.”

Just as she was letting her jacket settle a man approached, in garb somewhat designed to draw attention at a physique verging on fit, though short of stature. He said something but the only word they caught, thanks to the wonders of modern technology was “Drink?”. The rest of it was quite literally garbled, a clear sign the UT was still playing catchup.

“Oh, um, water,” Shu answered, which seemed to satisfy the man, who nodded briefly before heading back for the bar. “Okay, first hurdle down. Just need, oh, the rest of the local dialect?”

Deneva nodded as she scanned the room, eyes passing over tables full of laughing, carousing women. A crackling fire on the other side of the tavern caught her eye. In front of it, a woman regaled the slowly-growing crowd with a raucous tale punctuated by sweeping gestures and pauses for laughter.

“I think I can squeeze in there without attracting much attention,” Deneva said as she got up from the booth. She carefully wound her way through the patrons and found a low stool near the fireplace to perch on as the woman continued her story. Deneva smiled at the antics, and her smile widened with each new word the UT picked out. “The people……………………….to sound. …………..to carry………………a horse……………eight………………manure!” Laughter from the crowd. Deneva followed suit.

With their pilot engaging with the local banter, Gasset looked at Shu. “I suppose our mission in setting up a listening post on this planet has gone out of the window,” She sighed. “And so close to the Romulan border too.”

“This planet for sure,” Shu agreed in a hushed tone. “The locals do make it a bit difficult to keep anything secret and we don’t want to kick off some sort of UFO craze with some secret mountain base or something.”

“I suppose we could put an automated sensor net on one of its moons, but it just didn’t have the same impact as operatives watching over them with a pair of real eyes,” Gasset grumbled. 

“Better than nothing though,” Shu agreed. “Or one of the outer planet moons, just in case the Romulans do come sneaking around.” She turned to look over the tavern and its assemblage of patrons. “I feel like this is the start of a really bad fantasy story, or a documentary about political, philosophical or scientific revolution starting in a pub and spreading outward. Guess it would be frowned upon if I laid the foundations for calculus or special relativity here yeah?”

On the other side of the tavern, it was suddenly Deneva’s voice that could be heard among the crowd. “Noooo no no no no!” She was smiling and laughing, but there was a desperate edge to it as she tried to wave away two patrons who were sitting so close they were almost on top of her. “Where I come from, we have a saying: every monkey on its branch!”

The patrons’ interest turned briefly to confusion. “Mun-kee?”

“BIRD! Bird. Every bird on its branch. It means to mind your own affairs and don’t concern yourself with me. I’m leaving town very soon, anyway. Very, very soon!” Deneva looked back towards Gasset and Shu and tried to catch their eyes with a big grin and thumbs up that meant “we got it!”, quickly followed by a grimace and a tug at her collar that probably meant something closer to “and now I’m choking under pressure”.

“On that note, I think we’re done here,” Gasset motioned towards their pilot, who appeared to have done what was needed. “Let’s get back to the beam in spot, so we can update the others. We might be able to coordinate our next move.” 

Securing the communicator had been relatively easy for the captured members of the Endeavour. Branson could hide under the trolley while Ricci had pushed him into place. Stealing their communicator and ensuring nothing looked out of place was also simple. Now they had their communicator, the ability to speak to the ship as they could. Though they had to undergo more torture of working for the mistress, the day had relatively gone by quite quickly. As a result, they had all assembled in the communal quarters to begin working on their next steps.

Not being of any help when it came to anything technical, Branson had gone on watch by the door to ensure if anyone came to pass, they had enough time to hide the device. Campbell and Ricci were working on the communicator in the far corner with no one else to disturb them. 

“Is the communicator okay?” Campbell asked in a quiet voice.

Ricci nodded after looking over the communicator. “Looks as though it’s just as it should be!”

“Well, at least the inhabitants haven’t tampered with it. I’m surprised the power cell hasn’t died on us, especially as it might be why we still understand their language,” Campbell summarised. “Can you get a signal out?”

Ricci looked with a solemn look and shook his head. “No, sir, it seems something is blocking communications from getting through. As I know little about the planet, I can’t say for sure what it is.”

Hearing that disappointing response, Campbell sighed heavily. “It must be the minerals in the rock that we detected earlier that were blocking our scans,” He looked around the room, noticing some of the walls showing bare brickwork. “The same minerals must be in the walls.”

Ricci looked around the room and nodded. “That seems to be the only possibility at this time.” He concluded.

“If we could get on the rooftop, we could get a signal out,” Campbell suggested.

Ricci thought for a moment, “That should give us a clear and straight signal to the ship in orbit. We just have to make sure no one sees us missing!” He said, trying to be quiet. 

Campbell called Branson over. “Ed, you’re going to have to make sure no one comes in here and sees us missing.”

The doctor looked confused at his superior. “Did I miss something?”

“The good lieutenant and I are going for a climb,” Campbell answered. He pointed towards one of the more oversized windows that had a balcony. “We’re going to climb onto the roof and see if we can get a signal out to Endeavour.”

“Well, okay,” Branson hesitantly said. “Just be careful. I would hate to explain to anyone why you are both dead for climbing something without harnesses and safety gear.” 

Campbell nodded in agreement, and he and Ricci prepared to climb up. After looking up at what lay before them from the balcony upwards, Campbell noted a few wooden ledges they could use to pull themselves onto the flat roof. Taking the lead, Campbell started by pulling himself up before turning around and pulling Ricci up. Slowly and carefully, they took a bit at a time. Eventually, they got onto the rooftop without any concern or worried.

“That was easy,”  Campbell muttered after a few deep breaths. “Try the communicator now.”

Ricci caught his breath struggling with the climb due to his apparent malnutrition. He smirked at Campbell and activated the communicator.

The signal was clear, so Campbell spoke up. “Campbell to Endeavour, come in Endeavour!”