Chief Science Officer’s personal log, stardate 240011.22.

 

So much has happened in the few weeks Ulysses has been in the Delta Quadrant, and despite being a scientist in the middle of nowhere, I can’t help but dream of home. Exploring the far off reaches of outer space should be every science officer’s dream, but so much has happened recently that has put a new perspective on things, both professionally and personally.

 

In the months since we’ve been back together as a family, Marley, Matheus and I have faced so much. First sh’Elas wouldn’t let father and son join their mother on a mission deep into Romulan space, separating us at a crucial time of rebuilding relationships. Then, when we are finally reunited again, the ship is sent to respond to yet another crisis in a far off land. Although we were together this time, it didn’t stop us getting embroiled in a mission where Matheus had to put his life at risk because of his empathic abilities whilst Marley and I were locked away in our quarters for days. How the hell do you explain to a child that his father has been persecuted because of his biology, because of something he never wanted but had no choice in? Then, right when we get him back, he’s locked away in sickbay for monitoring after the disaster down on the surface of Haess. Zinn says they’ll be allowed out in a matter of days, but that’s no relief to a youngster who just wants to be with his father. I suppose one good thing to come out of all of this is that I have a grasp of my feelings now. Yes, Matheus cheated. Yes, he ruined what we had. I have to acknowledge that I played my part in the breakdown of our previous relationship, but I never stopped loving him. I thought I did; I thought I never wanted to be anywhere near him again. Children change things. They put things into perspective. Our plight is nothing compared to the ship-wide populace, though.

 

Ulysses has found a safe haven inside a mutara type nebula located some thirty light-years from Haess IV, though not by choice. What sensor coverage we have been able to maintain shows that Hirogen vessels remain in the area, hunting us down. We have less than eight days to make it back to the Markonian Outpost, or we’ll be stranded in the Delta Quadrant for another month. sh’Elas says she has no intention of fighting the Hirogen, not after recent events, but that seems inevitable now. There’s virtually nowhere left for them to search; it’s only a matter of time until they find us…

The usual darkness of space had long been replaced by the swirling mixtures of gas that emanated a pinky-purple glow and made up the mutara class nebula housing the Starfleet vessel Ulysses. Whilst several key systems had failed upon entering the safety of the nebula, the crew found solace in having some time to take stock and breath a much needed sigh of relief. Long gone were the warships belonging to the Devore Imperium, in their place, several Hirogen hunting vessels circled the safe haven that Ulysses had made home (at least temporarily). In normal circumstances, that would be a major concern, and for the powers that be, it was, but for everyone else it was a reprieve. Not a single person aboard had emerged from recent events unscathed; not the Starfleet crew, not their Devore captives, nor the hundreds of telepathic passengers the crew had liberated from incarceration on the prison planet.

For those on duty in the science laboratory on deck thirteen, they had a momentary distraction from the thoughts of days gone by, having been tasked with ensuring Ulysses remained hidden as long as possible. Working their magic with the ship’s sensors, trying to mask the energy output of the systems that were still online was proving to be an ongoing task requiring constant supervision. Even a ship with a functioning cloak would have found such an endeavour difficult when surrounded by the gaseous clouds of the nebula, and they weren’t even deep into the nebula; the ship was still relatively close to the edge of the phenomenon, with sensors unable to adequately detect what might have existed further inside. Mapping the phenomenon was proving a challenge for those in Stellar Cartography too, but everyone was doing their best, just as the Risian department head expected they would.

Akaria though was deeply engrossed in another task; sifting through countless reports of exposure to blood dilithium, obtained by those individuals aboard the ship who had been happy to divulge their experiences. Throughout her analysis, one thing had become abundantly clear – blood dilithium impacted individuals in dozens of different ways. Beyond the more common reports of rage-fueled outbursts, physical altercations and the displays of sexual promiscuity, some rather peculiar side effects had been reported. Increased appetite, strengthening of abilities and even rapid onset aging to name a few. Most were temporary of course, but some would leave permanent scars. Everyone had agreed that the most damage done had been the emotional turmoil they had been subjected to. Those scars would take a long time to heal. She just hoped the ship would still be around when they had…

Waiting around was never the Chief Science Officer’s strong suit. Standing around outside the brig on deck twenty-six, the Risian tapped her feet in frustration, waiting for the arrival of the ship’s second in command. Running a hand through her flowing, golden locks, she flicked the golden strands to the right, revealing a large, shaved portion of her skull, decorated in tribal tattoos. It was a recent change brought about thanks to her recoupling with Matheus. It was a sign of her Risian heritage, and a sign of wanting to be different.

She was about ready to give up when the diminutive Tellarite rounded a corner, an unusual grin filling his face. It was enough to  unnerve a Vulcan well-practiced in the form of kolinahr. “Everything alright, sir?” She asked cautiously.

Vasoch didn’t even stop to greet the Risian, simply offering an ‘Oh yes’ on his way past the younger woman and into the prison block.

Under normal operating circumstances, the two brig cells on either side of the room would comfortably hold three individuals, perhaps four at a push. On this particular occasion, each cell was crammed to the rafters with seven individuals under lock and key, and all supervised by a single brig officer at the security terminal in the middle of the room. All eyes in the room darted in the direction of the door at the sudden appearance of the Tellarite and his blue-uniformed counterpart. Vasoch sauntered over to the terminal and smiled at the security officer, unnerving him in much the same way Akaria had been before.

“Good morning everyone,” the pig-like creature grinned, “I hope your stay has been enjoyable thus far, but alas, your tenancy in these wonderful guest quarters are at an end,” he smiled, arms out wide and head twisting between the cells.

Mockery was such a Tellarite trait, and it appeared Vasoch was a master at it. Akaria watched, almost in awe, as the XO went to town on their ‘guests’.

“We will shortly transfer you to a Hirogen hunting pack as part of our negotiations for safe passage,” he revealed, much to the concern of the prisoners who began to grow restless in their cells. “That is!” He declared loudly to silence the Devore and garner their attention. “That is unless you begin to cooperate and answer our questions,” he told them.

Akaria stiffened at the ploy being used by the XO. Dangling their lives before them in such a way was akin to torture, wasn’t it? She couldn’t believe that the Captain had sanctioned such a move… had she?

“Okay then,” the Tellarite smiled his toothy grin, rubbing his hands together in glee, “let’s begin, shall we?”

Twenty minutes later, and not a single question had been answered; Commander Gor’s pleasant demeanour had evaporated quicker than a puddle under the sun during Risa’s summer solstice. He was now pacing the prison room, banging on the cell forcefields and glaring at the Devore soldiers securely behind them with bared teeth. For Akaria, this was a futile gesture. Clearly, the threats of the Commander were not convincing enough. Fate, however, would play its cards.

A strange shrieking sound filled the bay, accompanied by a strong vibration of the deck plates beneath their feet, causing everyone to cover their ears. Akaria exchanged concerned glances with Commander Gor, only for a second, louder shriek to fill the bay. This time, rather than being accompanied by simple vibrations, there was the distinct feeling of an explosion somewhere nearby.

“Battlestations!” the voice of the Andorian Captain filled the brig, “Commander Gor, report to the bridge. We’ve been located…”

Gor and the Risian looked at one another before heading for the doorway and exiting the brig.

Standing at the forcefield nearest the door, Devore Inspector Kravik watched the two officers leave, a smile slowly emerging on his face. Perhaps there was a way out for his people after all?

Blood Dilithium Case Report Number: Charlie-376

Person of Interest: Chiera, Vittoria

Species: Betazoid

Rank: Lieutenant Junior Grade

Position: Ship’s Counsellor

Recording Officer(s): Lieutenant Akaria Okan, Chief Science Officer (CSO); Lieutenant Josue Torres, Assistant Chief Medical Officer (ACMO)

Begin Recording: (ACMO) Upon returning to the Ulysses, Subject Charlie-376 presented as fatigued, with some bruising to her face and arms which she has so far been unable to explain. Upon medical examination, we have identified some heightened activity in her prefrontal cortex and temporal lobes which we have attributed to her exposure to blood dilithium, but this is diminishing over time. This has proven to be common across the previous three-hundred-seventy-five cases, albeit at different rates of decline. Subject reports no new symptoms from her exposure to blood dilithium, or continuation of other previously exhibited symptoms. In consultation with other members of the away team (Z, MR, TT), the subject was part of, previously exhibited symptoms reportedly included: extreme rage presented vocally and targeted at one particular subject; a minor increase in physical strength; a perceived hormonal imbalance leading to increased sex drive. MR reported that upon the subjects return to their prison cell after presumed exposure, previous symptoms seemed to have rapidly disappeared, replaced instead by feelings of guilt and emotional outbursts of regret aimed at aforementioned target.

In her recollection of events, subject was able to describe her environment (see addendum Charlie-376-Alpha) and heightened senses for a period. Unfortunately, she is unable to recall anything once exposed to blood dilithium at close range, presumably due to increased adrenaline and dopamine levels, or possible unconscious state.

(CSO) In the subject’s recount of events, she made specific reference to a being of unknown species, apparently colluding with the Devore staff on the facility. Described as ‘languid, tall and gangly’, approximately seven to eight feet tall with ‘slow movements’. The creature purportedly had four long, upper limbs with pointed digits, skin of a pale gray color and pronounced rib cage. What I found most intriguing was the subject’s claim that this creature was able to communicate telepathically, and only telepathically, despite close proximity to blood dilithium. I have asked Commander Noli and her security team to identify any guest that matches this description, but so far no one has been identified. It is therefore probable this being was among those left on Haess IV. The Executive Officer will join me in questioning the Devore prisoners aboard the ship later today, to see if they can shed any light on this particular being.

Blood Dilithium Case Report Number: Gamma-312

Person of Interest: ‘Arivek’

Species: Unidentified

Begin Recording: (ACMO) Subject presents as a male of an unidentified species, currently unconscious and unable to be woken. Subject was reportedly conscious at the time of transportation. Nurse Li is providing 1-to-1 care in the isolation ward. Green-skinned, with long, scraggly white hair and presenting as roughly sixty to seventy Earth years of age, reports from other survivors and members of the away team indicate the subject has apparently suffered some form of rapid age acceleration. Until we can confirm this with the subject, this will be taken at face value. It is the only case identified so far among the near six-hundred rescuees.

(CSO) Interviews with the away team and subject Gamma-313 known as ‘Maevis’ reveals that the subject entered the facility on Haess some four years ago. Prior to his first exposure to blood dilithium, subject was apparently a fit and healthy thirty-seven Earth years of age. Other than the rapid aging process, our interviews have indicated that the subject suffered no other symptoms usually associated with exposure to blood dilithium. I am most intrigued to talk with the subject once he has regained consciousness. Nurse Li and Lieutenant Brady are currently conducting research and analysis to ascertain any other examples of such premature aging.

Blood Dilithium Case Report Number: Charlie-377

Person of Interest: th’Zorati, Tempestava

Species: Aenar

Rank: Ensign

Position: Assistant Flight Operations Officer

Begin Recording: (CSO) Subject has reported an intriguing new symptom since reporting back to the Ulysses; she is gradually gaining the use of her eyes, which should not be possible for a member of her species. Medical examinations confirm that the nerve receptors behind her eyes appear to almost be regenerating. No time frame has been given for the total regeneration, and we have no idea if total regeneration is even possible. It poses a very important question, perhaps the most important question to date. Is it possible that among all of the pain and suffering it appears to be causing, blood dilithium might have healing properties for some species?

Blood Dilithium Case Report Number: Gamma-313

Person of Interest: ‘Maevis’

Species: Unidentified

Begin Recording: (ACMO) Subject presents as a fit and healthy humanoid female approximately twenty-five to thirty Earth years, but confirmation is impossible as subject is declining examination. Subject has not declared suffering any symptoms following exposure to blood dilithium, but reports from the away team, and MR in particular, indicate that she is a telepath of extraordinary ability. Independent verification has confirmed reports of the subject being able to use her telepathic abilities even in the presence of the neuroinhibitors which limited the abilities of virtually every other prisoner on the planet. Various reports indicate that the subject was able to emit some kind of shockwave pulse when exhibiting signs of anger, but this has yet to be attributed to blood dilithium exposure. Subject is to remain under quarantine until she has undergone a full medical examination to the satisfaction of Doctor Torres.

Blood Dilithium Case Report Number: Gamma-300

Person of Interest: ‘Hebe-G-B’

Species: Unidentified

Begin Recording: (CSO) Subject identified as ‘Hebe-G-B’ or Hebe the Gelatenous Blob, so called because it scares the hell out of people when it shrieks in response to questions it dislikes. My conversations with the subject have been… curious. It is unable to tell me where it has come from, how long it was in captivity and whether it had been exposed to blood dilithium, but given its peculiar appearance, I am almost certain the Devore scientists would have conducted more than one experiment. It was able to confirm one thing for me; it loves Starfleet field rations. I’m half tempted to confine it to the brig and place it under the care of Counselling department. It clearly needs help…

Not for the first time in recent days, the command center of the Starship Ulysses was awash with the crimson glow of the red alert lighting. This time, however, something was different about the situation as Commander Gor escorted his Risian subordinate onto the bridge from the port side turbo lift. In such a situation, it was usual for the tension levels to increase among the staff there present, and for the bridge to be a hive of activity. Whilst she was no Betazoid, she could sense no such increase in tension among the staff, quite the opposite in fact. Henry and Linn were conversing as normal at the forward stations, Tharia was smiling and slapping the back of the Bajoran commander at tactical and Commander Gor practically skipped towards the command arena at the heart of the command center.

“Well, Number One?” the Captain queried, looking down at the Commander stood a few feet away and down the slight slope to the forward part of the bridge.

“I think they bought it,” the Tellarite man nodded, his hands on his hips as he spoke. “I think our Chief Science Officer bought it too,” he smiled in Akaria’s direction, flexing his eyebrows.

“Bought it?” the Risian enquired, a momentary look of confusion on her pretty, fair-skinned face until the sudden realisation dawned upon her. “It was a ruse?!” she asked, her tone indicating her dissatisfaction at being kept out of the loop on matters.

“It was Noli’s idea,” Tharia laughed, throwing her hands up in surrender and making a quick getaway from the tactical Arch.

“Of course it was…” Akaria frowned, arms folded across her chest in a protective gesture.

“We were getting nowhere with our questioning of the Devore, so we thought a little shake or two might give them the jolt we need to get them to cooperate,” the Bajoran second-in-command shrugged unapologetically.

“And the Hirogen?”

“Gone,” Tharia smiled, placing a motherly arm around the science officer and guiding her towards the science station. “We think they have given up; sensors detected them warping away from the area about twenty minutes ago,” the Andorian revealed whilst the Risian took up her place at the science station. “We’re going to stay in the nebula for another hour, then we’ll make for the Markonian Outpost,” the Captain told, finally letting the Risian in on her little ruse.

“Try not to give me anymore bumps,” a voice called out from the starboard turbo lift. The emerging dark-haired, grey-skinned woman made for the engineering station on the starboard bulkhead. “Repairs are complete, Captain. All systems functioning within normal parameters,” Lieutenant Prida smiled proudly upon the delivery of her report.

“Excellent work,” Tharia winked at the engineer before sliding into her command chair. “Now all we need to do is…”

Her words were cut off by the sudden vocals of the ship’s Assistant Chief Medical Officer. “Sickbay to bridge,” Lieutenant Torres spoke, a definite tone of agitation to his voice. In the background, and audible across the bridge, raised voices could be heard, and then what appeared to be the crash of metal. “Captain, you better get down here,” the Lieutenant requested before the line went dead.

“You have the CONN, Commander. Hold position and maintain sensor sweeps for any outside activity,” the Andorian decreed as she burst out of her seat, wagging her left index finger at Commander Noli and Lieutenant Okan in turn. “You two are with me,” she instructed, heading for the starboard turbo lift.

“Aye Captain,” Vasoch called, back to his usual stern self as the three women disappeared into the turbo lift, headed for sickbay.

Sh’Elas, Noli and Okan were deep in conversation upon entering the medical bay, but what greeted them was enough to halt the conversation abruptly and cause them all to do a double take. In the middle of sickbay, behind the safety of the forcefield that glowed with each glancing impact of a flailing extremity, their four colleagues were involved in a rather brutal scuffle.

“What the hell is going on in there?!” sh’Elas bellowed towards the Assistant Medical Officer who hadn’t even noticed the senior staff enter the room. When he did, the look of exasperation told the story of how difficult he was finding things.

“I don’t know what happened,” Torres shrugged, moving over to the safety of the Bajoran tactical officer. “One minute all was calm, they were chatting away and then all hell broke loose!” In all honesty, he felt defeated, and probably looked it too. “I think Tempestava may have started it all,” he added with a frown.

Noli grinned as she nodded in approval, a gesture that got her some strange looks from the others in the lab. “What?” she asked, “I always knew she had some fight in her,” the Bajoran shrugged.

“Have you tried sedation?” Akaria called out, moving past Noli and to one of the side stations in the bay.

“Yes,” Torres barked in reply, all the while watching the brawl slowly get more physical. “I even tried anesthizine gas at seventy parts a million. It should have knocked the four of them off their feet straight away… I daren’t try any higher…”

“Right…” with that, Noli wandered over to a black case hanging on a nearby bulkhead. Typing in a code, the front facing flap slid downwards to reveal several sidearms inside. Plucking one of the hand phasers from its home, the Bajoran upped the device to its maximum setting. “Akaria, get ready…”

Nodding in agreement, the Risian knew that if the anesthizine gas hadn’t worked, being stunned by phaser fire was their only other option at this point. “Lowering forcefield… now,” she declared, tapping the console in front of her by instinct alone, her gaze centralized on her floundering colleagues.

As soon as the field surrounding the group at the heart of sickbay began to fluctuate, Noli raised the phaser, holding it at arm’s length and ready to fire. Once the shield was lowered, she dispatched a single blast which impacted Akaria’s unfortunate spouse in the left shoulder. Ren crumpled to the floor, followed by three more phaser blasts and the rest of the team collapsing in silence.

With the medical facility under control once again, the Doctor waved for his medical team to help each of their fallen comrades to a bio bed. “Erect a security field when they’re comfortable,” he ordered of his team, hands on hips as he spoke his instructions.

Rising to her feet, the Chief Science Officer joined the three other officers in a huddled conflab. “These are the first new symptoms reported by any of the survivors or the away team since returning to the ship,” she advised the group, arms folded across her chest in a protective gesture.

“But I thought the Counsellor was the only one to be exposed?” Tharia mused out loud, looking past the group and towards the prone officers, resting peacefully upon their bio beds.

“I do have a theory,” Akaria began, only continuing with a nonverbal sign of approval from the Captain. “Either we beamed some blood dilithium aboard during the retreat, or we’ve got some in close proximity somewhere,” she suggested to the gathering.

“There was no indication of any such material beaming aboard during the withdrawal,” Noli countered swiftly, “I had my team go over all of the transporter logs.”

“Then let’s suppose we’re recently moved within range of some somewhere. Is it possible there could be a blood dilithium deposit within the nebula?” Tharia asked, looking more in the direction of the scientist for an answer.

“According to all data I have read, blood dilithium has only been recorded as forming on solid surfaces in close proximity to an anomaly,” the Risian lifted a hand to rub her chin whilst considering the Captain’s question. “It is possible; we’d be looking for some form of solid structure, either natural or artificial,” she concluded.

“Even though the sensors are weakened by the nebula, surely we’d have detected the source by now if it was close enough to elicit that kind of reaction?” Noli’s question was one typical of a tactical officer who had maybe not done all the scientific reading she perhaps should have.

“Not necessarily,” Torres shook his head. “If the deposit is large enough, there is every chance they’d feel the effects from a great distance,” the medical clinician revealed, causing the Captain to let out a sigh.

“Okay,” she slapped her arms down to her sides, “Akaria, you and I will head up to the bridge and begin the search for blood dilithium deposits. Noli; get a security team down here until further notice. Then begin a sweep of all our visitors. I want to know the minute there are any issues,” the Andorian instructed.

“Hang on Captain,” the doctor interjected briefly, wandering to a side station and picking up a small device. “I think we need to start monitoring neuro pathways for any indication of increased activity. You should have your team dispatch cortical monitors to all of our guests. I’ve already begun replicating additional units,” the man told, handing off the object to the tactician.

“Keep me updated on developments Doctor,” the Captain nodded to the Assistant Medical Officer, before turning and vacating sickbay with her science officer close behind. “Any thoughts on how we can do this?” she asked the Risian on their approach to the turbo lift.

“With the limited range of our sensors, I’d recommend dispatching a number of probes into the nebula,” Akaria suggested as they walked, “they’ll cover more ground than we can, and it prevents us from having to utilize support craft.”

Disappearing into the turbo lift at the end of the corridor, the two officers remained in deep conversation until they arrived at the bridge, where the Chief Science Officer put her plan into action alongside a number of other officers in the StratOps suite aft of the bridge.

It was imperative their search found the supposed source of the blood dilithium, for the sake of all the telepaths aboard the ship.

Captain’s log, supplemental.

 

Upon the advice of Lieutenant Okan and Doctor Torres, Ulysses has begun its search of the nebula in the hope of locating a source of blood dilithium. The mission of our scientific probes has been complicated by the swirling nebula clouds we are calling home for the time being. Even with a sensor suite as capable as ours, we could not hope to search the entire nebula in the short amount of time we were to remain, hence the use of Akaria’s probes, but the sudden reappearance of the Hirogen hunting party now circling the nebula makes speed of the essence.

 

Rallying to Akaria’s call for help, the entire senior staff is working like a well-oiled machine. Linn and Henry are assisting in making the probes search quicker, working on guidance and sensor systems. Prida and Noli have been dispatched to science lab three to assist with creating a containment space suitable for housing any samples we may find, while protecting the telepaths aboard ship. The XO and I remain vigilant from our posts on the bridge, with keen eyes on sensor readings from both beyond and within the nebula.

 

My biggest concern right now is with the four officers under sedation in sickbay, and the number of guests we have under quarantine. Whilst it is my priority to gather samples for further analysis, the situation is fluid; if the threat to our guests or crewmembers grows, I will have no choice but to take Ulysses out of the nebula…

…and face the wolf pack beyond.

Huddled around a station in the StratOps suite at the back of the bridge, Lieutenant Okan and her colleagues from Operations and Flight Control were monitoring the incoming telemetry of the modified probes they had dispatched to survey the nebula for traces of blood dilithium. Frustration was the order of the day as probe after probe continued to send in negative sensor readings.

Sat at the station with her colleagues stood either side of her, the Risian was perhaps the most frustrated of all. “Probe Alpha-Three showing negative signs for, well, any…” Okan paused, staring at the readings ahead of her, causing the Bolian and the Terran to stop their own tasks.

“Lieutenant?” Henry asked, looking at the tattooed woman curiously.

“It’s found something,” she smiled, “it’s found something!” her exclamation was enough to draw the attention of the Captain and her executive officer sat in the command chairs at the heart of the bridge. Rising from her seat, she led the two rather bemused gentlemen back onto the bridge and headed for her science station. “Ma’am, with your permission?” she asked of the Captain, gesturing to the viewer at the front of the bridge.

Vasoch and Tharia exchanged glances before the Andorian gave a nod of acceptance to the Risian.

“Henry,” the Science Chief called out as she took her seat, “pull up grid alpha-three-two please,” she requested of the Flight Controller whilst he took his seat.

“Alrighty,” Henry nodded, taking his seat at the CONN and letting his fingers do all the work. Soon, the lighting on the bridge took on an orange hue as the holographic viewscreen changed to show the nebula around the ship.

Something in the center of the image drew everyone’s attention, even causing the Captain to move forward and perch on the edge of her seat. “Magnify,” she spoke quietly to no one in particular. As the image was enhanced and the central section enlarged, a smile crept across her face.

“It’s an asteroid, approximately seven hundred kilometers in diameter,” the Science Officer told, her analysis confirming several readings. “We’re also detecting blood dilithium deposits on the surface,” she continued excitedly.

“Take us closer Henry,” the Captain ordered, slouching back in her chair, relieved. “Number One; make sure Noli and Prida have the containment system ready to go,” she added, a side glance at the Tellerite before eyes forward once again.

Vasoch spun slightly in his seat, tapping away at the controls on the small console beside him. It allowed him to see what the status of their project was, and to contact the two officers if necessary. Thankfully, the report was good. “Prida reports that the isolation field and containment chamber are complete. They’ve used data gathered from research teams before we lost contact with Starfleet to replicate the chamber,” he advised the Captain, with a look across at the Science Chief. “They’re going to send you the details of how big a sample we can house shortly,” he told the Risian, eliciting a simple nod from the woman in return.

Upon receiving confirmation of the sample size, Akaria surmised that the best way to obtain the sample would be to carve out a deposit using the ventral phaser array. Submitting her idea to the tactical station where Lieutenant Bellurr stood in place of the ship’s second officer, the science team was ready.

“Henry?”

“We’re holding steady within phaser and transporter range,” the Terran helmsman revealed, “but I must warn you there is every chance the Hirogen may detect us when we open fire,” he added, the note of caution enough to cause the Captain to reconsider for a moment.

“Alright,” she nodded, heeding the youngster’s warning, “plot the quickest, and safest, route out of the nebula and onto a course back to the outpost. We’ll go as soon as the sample is aboard,” she instructed.

“Got it, Captain!” the flyboy responded whilst commanding his controls to do his bidding.

Vasoch rose from his chair and rounded the tactical Arch, standing beside the Klingon-Terran hybrid overseeing the controls in Noli’s absence. Not because he didn’t trust the Bajoran’s understudy, but because he wanted to assist, if he could, at such an important moment.

“Bridge to containment lab,” the Captain called into the internal comm array, “standby to collect sample.”

“We’re ready when you are Captain,” Prida’s voice echoed around the bridge.

“Make it so Lieutenant Bellurr,” Tharia declared loudly, hands gripping the chair arms either side, eyes trained on the screen.

“Initiating phaser spread,” the younger woman at Tactical barked, her Klingon side coming through.

In the depths of the nebula, with swirling gases masking the Ulysses and her asteroid target, the ventral phaser arrays of the ship unleashed three sustained bursts at different locations on the rock. In doing so, a large portion of its face evaporated under the phased energy blast, allowing a glaring, scarlet glow to emit from beneath the surface.

“Transporter Room One to Bridge,” and unidentified voice filled the airwaves, “commencing transport now.”

Located across the Starfleet ship, hundreds of survivors from the Devore prison rested in relative luxury. Gone were the inhumane conditions some had been kept in for eons, replaced by startling comfort, not to mention the freedom to eat, drink and even bathe whenever they so desired. Whilst they were still under quarantine, a medical necessity as explained by the Starfleet doctors, most were content to stay out and enjoy the simplest of creature comforts once more.

But one in particular was finding this new form of incarceration challenging. They had been given relative freedom on the planet below, but not here. Here, they suffered. Here, they could see everything, hear everything and feel everything. It was exasperating. It was painful. It was impossible to talk about with these Federations.

As far as they were concerned, this one had not transported to their quaint vessel and instead remained on the surface. Many had asked about this one’s location, but none had an answer; why would they? This one’s disguise was complete, convincing. No one would ever kno…

But what was this? A sudden outpouring of emotion from the telepaths aboard. A sudden pain of such intensity this one dropped to its knees.

And then, in this one’s own moment of weakness, a blood curdling scream. A scream that shattered glass, destroyed furniture…

…and eliminated the force field keeping them locked away.

Starfleet thought it was for this one’s safety. If only they knew it was actually for all of theirs, instead…

Across the bridge, feet tapped nervously on the deck plating, twitchy fingers drummed against console screens and the beating of anxious hearts threatened to drown out the almost deafening silence whilst they waited for news.

“Prida to bridge,” the more familiar voice of the Chief Engineer called out from the ether, “transport complete. We have one significant sa…le succ…ly… st…”

Inching forward in her command chair, the Captain tapped the controls on her chair arm.

“sh’Elas to Prida, repeat your last?” the Captain enquired, but nothing was reciprocated, causing the anxiousness to ramp up. “sh’Elas to Noli, are you receiving us?” she asked again, this time directed at the other officer located with the Chief Engineer in the containment lab. Nothing.

Flying out of her chair at warp speed, the Captain spun on her heels and looked across at Vasoch. Before they could even begin conversing, lights and control systems across the bridge began to wildly fluctuate until all went dark.

It was only a matter of seconds until the pale, white emergency lighting activated, partially illuminating the bridge, but doing just enough to grant the bridge crew the ability to see one another, and that the bridge was in tact. Then, drawing upon the power reserves, a few of the bridge consoles blinked back to life.

“Report!” the Andorian barked, hands on her hips and looking for the first of the voices to come her way.

“Helm is unresponsive,” Henry called out in response, the Terran never one to let down his Andorian mistress, “we’re dead in the… well, nebula.”

“Power is down across the entire ship, Captain,” the Bolian next to him revealed. “Life support is operating at minimal, power reserves will soon be depleted,” he told, spinning in his chair and shooting the Captain an apologetic look.

“Intra-ship communications are down,” Vasoch chimed in from the tactical Arch next to Lieutenant Bellurr.

“Weapons, shields, external sensors. If the Hirogen find us now, we’re sitting ducks…” the Klingon frowned, perching back on her stool in frustration.

“Mayr; you said external sensors are offline. What about internal sensors? Can we transfer enough of the power reserves to ascertain what might have happened?” the Captain suggested, taking a step closer to the command area and the tactical Arch.

Shrugging, the Klingon woman sat forward in her seat and began tapping away at what functions her console still had. “Apparently so,” she smiled a few seconds later. “Sensors are showing there was an explosion on deck six about thirty seconds before the power went out. Without communications, I’m unable to dispatch a security team to check it out.”

“We potentially have a bigger problem,” the Risian at science added in slowly, causing the Captain to spin and divert her attention to her blue-uniformed subordinate for elaboration. “If the power is out on all decks, that means that all of the force fields, both security and medical, will be offline,” it seemed obvious to her, but she felt the need to remind everyone of the situation they faced. It wasn’t long ago that a number of their crew had been locked down for violent outbursts.

“Right,” Tharia nodded slowly, running her hands through her silver mane as she contemplated a plan of attack. “Mayr, I want you to head to deck six and ascertain what the hell went on. Number One, head to sickbay, then the isolation lab. Linn, get down to engineering and get the power online,” her orders precise and quick. “Akaria, Henry and I will monitor the developing situation from here and try to get systems online as quickly as possible,” she instructed clearly. Slipping into her seat was the cue the officers needed to depart and set about their tasks.

Rising to his feet, the Bolian from Ops frowned as he walked past the tactical Arch and towards the aft jefferies tube access panel.

“Great,” he muttered, “thirty-five decks to climb down to engineering,” he huffed.

“You could always try free falling, mate,” Henry responded cheekily, earning him a disapproving (officially, anyway) look from the commanding officer and a curse word or two from his Bolian buddy. His Bolian buddy who had a very long climb ahead of him…

Travelling a ship such as the Ulysses via the network of jefferies tubes was hardly a walk in the proverbial park, but luckily for Lieutenant Bellurr, she only had to climb for six decks; poor Linn Mora had to travel the thirty-five decks to engineering and hope he still had the energy to work when he got there. They had partied ways, along with the XO, on deck four, with the Klingon taking a different tube the rest of the way to deck six.

Emerging from the jefferies tube in section fourteen alpha, Bellurr stepped into the darkness, surveying the silence with extreme caution. Something out there had caused an explosion, and given the fact she was in the heart of personnel quarters aboard the saucer section, she couldn’t even rule out that it had been a person, either. Flashing her wrist beacons around the corridor, she could see nothing to alert her, so began her cautious approach to the location of the explosion, several hundred feet away.

For a deck where so many resided, and where an explosion had just taken place, deck six was eerily quiet. Perhaps the lack of power was keeping people confined to their quarters, but in her experience, humanoids were inherently nosy, so she had fully expected to have to order people away; but to see no one? That was unnerving to say the least. During her patrol of the deck, the Klingon continued to look for any sign of any kind that might alert her to the situation, but still there was nothing. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought that maybe someone had clea…

Coming to a sudden halt, the unmistakable smell of an explosion assaulted her nose. She was close at last. Removing the phaser from her holster, the woman began tiptoeing on her heading. Soon, the sound of crackling began to hit her, a sound she could likely attribute to a probable fire. And then there was the thick smoke that began to drift in her direction.

Speeding up, the Klingon rounded the final corner to find the door to Guest Quarters 37-Beta forced open, and a bright orange glow from inside. Fighting her way through the increasing amount of smog, she reached the door and peered inside. She couldn’t see anyone, which was a bonus, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone in there, hiding away somewhere.

“Hello?!” she called, forcing her muscular frame through the gap in the door until she was through successfully. A fire was burning bright, right where the wall-mounted computer terminal had been located. “Hello?!” she called again, but still nothing.

Having searched the whole room after a few moments, she headed for the doorway again, deciding that the wisest course of action would be to vacate and get herself away from the fire that freely burnt away on the bulkhead. In the absence of a visible reason for the explosion, there were other people on this deck she had to check in on, to ensure their safety more than anything else.

Lifting her left leg up to climb through the gap, a loud clunking sound from inside the quarters caused her to pause and look back. In doing so, she presented the creature with ample opportunity to strike; the being lashed out and smashed the Klingon on the top of her head, then watched as she crumpled to the floor in an unconscious heap, unable to stop the retreating assailant.

Climbing through the jefferies tubes of the ship was far from Vasoch’s idea of fun, what with the stout character probably among the most unfit members of the ship’s personnel. His diminutive frame just wasn’t made for exercise, but instead for eating and arguing. Especially at his ripe old age. Thankfully, just like Lieutenant Bellurr, he didn’t have as far to go as Lieutenant Mora did, emerging onto deck twelve in relatively quick time (for him, anyway). Flashing his wrist beacons around the corridor to survey what awaited him, the Tellarite was pleased to find no sign of any danger, opting to proceed without delay to the medical ward a few sections down.

During the short walk, the Commander made contact with a few individuals, assuring them that all was well and they should remain in their quarters until power returned. It was a lie, of course, as the situation was far from under control, but he had to project that calming presence needed to control what he could of the developing situation. Sickbay, however, was a different story.

After forcing the doors to the medical facility open, he could hear the concern in the tone of the officers present. A quick visual scan of the medical bay identified no new casualties had seemingly been brought in, but Doctor in charge was more than a little agitated.

Spinning on his heels at the sound of a crewmate forcing their way inside, Lieutenant Torres breathed a sigh of relief at seeing the XO. “Commander,” the Terran man sighed as he walked over to the ship’s executive, “we have a problem.

“I know Doctor,” Vasoch interjected quickly, “we’re doing what we can to get thi…” but it was his turn to be interrupted now.

“I don’t care what’s happening outside of here,” the Doctor told bluntly, waving an arm in the general direction of the biobeds. “Stasis fields are offline, and even though they are sedated, our officer’s are starting to show more severe signs of blood dilithium exposure,” the Doctor explained, stepping over to the Counsellor’s bed. “I’ve already had to sedate Chiera again because she grew increasingly violent,” he finished, arms slapping to his side.

‘Wonderful…’ Vasoch sighed. Exactly what they had feared. “As soon as we can restore power, we’ll make sickbay and the containment fields a matter of priority,” the Tellarite grunted, “but for now, do your best. We’re trying to ascertain what happened but the lack of power is hindering matters,” he folded his arms across his chest, looking around the four, heavily breathing crewmates.

“It’s not just those in here we need to worry about,” Torres reminded the first officer, “but we have hundreds of telepathic guests on this ship who will likely be showing similar effects, and I’ve got no way to control the situation,” Josue frowned, exasperated at the direction his first stint as acting Chief Medical Officer was going.

“Your security team here will keep you safe,” Vasoch pointed to the two officer’s clad in yellow, “I’m going to head to the science lab to ascertain what the situation is there.”

Unwilling to wait for any sort of response from the physician, Vasoch turned and climbed his way out of the medical ward and back onto deck twelve. It would be another short climb to the containment lab.

Tapping her feet as she stared into the bright red glow emitting from the containment unit, Commander Noli Auru was struggling with the lack of information from across the ship, and was battling the desire to abandon her task and head off to intervene somewhere. But someone had to keep watch over the blood dilithium sample they had harvested. With power out, Lieutenant Prida had begun the climb to engineering to see what she could do there, leaving the tactical officer to keep watch.

“I don’t know what all the fuss is about,” she shrugged, pouting as she stared at the crystal formation. As a non-telepath, it posed no risk to her, and she was struggling to fully comprehend its devastating power. She obviously knew of its potential as a source of power, but beyond that, nothing. She couldn’t pretend to understand the complexities of the crystal like the science and engineering teams could.

Whilst deep in thought, the Commander was startled by a clang from behind the containment structure that stood eight feet tall and in the center of the lab.

“Hello?” she called out, bending to the right to try and catch a glimpse of behind the unit. Unable to see anything, the Bajoran wandered around to the left, looking around slowly until she noticed something reflecting the crimson glare of the blood dilithium. A data PADD. A data PADD sat on the floor next to the containment field, and no sign of where it came from.

Another quick scout around and the blonde stopped to pick up the PADD. She would not climb up again, however, as a clubbing blow to the back of her skull sent her crashing face first to the floor. There she remained until a figure appeared in the science lab doorway a short while later.

“Noli? Prida?” a voice called out, emerging from the darkness of the corridor and into the crimson-lit lab.

Running a hand through his bushy beard whilst her surveyed the chamber, Vasoch nodded in approval at the success of the team’s efforts. He only stopped smiling when he caught a glimpse of two black clad feet poking out from behind the containment unit. With an uncharacteristic burst of pace, the stumpy Tellarite flew around the side of the field to find the prone Bajoran. Crouching to her side, the Commander placed a gentle hand on the woman in a bid to stir her somewhat unsuccessfully. Next, he shouted her name, but still nothing.

Assessing the woman for injury, he could see nothing that would pinpoint why she was unconscious. There was no way he could get her to sickbay himself; he’d have to drop her down the jefferies tube to the next level, and that would kill her for certain. No, he had to get help. He couldn’t risk enlisting any of the guest personnel on the deck given the state of things, so he’d have to get help.

Pressing his fingers to her neck and checking her vitals one last time, the Commander was content enough to leave the containment lab in search of the mythical help he required.

Over a dozen decks away, an exhausted Prida Rala finally emerged from a jefferies tube access hatch on the upper level of the engineering bay, smoothing down her uniform once she was on her feet again. Whilst the upper level was quiet, it was clear from the commotion below that engineering was a hive of activity, despite the lack of power.

Wandering over to the protective rail that surrounded the upper coolant tanks, the Bajassian placed her hands upon the railing and glared at the people below. “I’ve been gone for a few hours and you lot break the entire ship!” she balled, drawing the attention of everyone below.

“It wasn’t us, Chief!”

“I think it might have been Smithy…”

“It’s always Smithy…”

“Hey!” a young Petty Officer frowned, hands on hips, “I told you already, it wasn’t me.” He then lifted a hand to his head and rubbed his brow. “At least, I don’t think it was…”

Prida smirked and shook her head, feeling sorry for poor Smithy. One of their newer recruits to engineering, the team seemed to enjoy ribbing him thanks to a slight mishap with the propulsion systems a number of weeks ago now. Walking to the steel ladder at the edge of the upper platform, the Chief Engineer grabbed either side of the vertical bars and used her weight to slide down to the lower level, like something reminiscent of a firefighter she’d seen in one of Henry’s twentieth century movies.

As he feet made landfall, a second figure emerged, this time from the large bay doors, and looking rather red – which was no mean feat considering he had vivid blue skin. Watching while the newcomer bent down to catch his breath, the Bajassian joined her team at the pool table, looking a little confused.

“Linn? I thought you were on the bridge?” she enquired of the exhausted Bolian, who finally caught his breath enough to take a few paces to the pool table and prop himself up.

“I was,” he wheezed, “but right after you beamed the blood dilithium aboard, there was an explosion somewhere on deck six. That’s when the power went out,” he informed the gathering of gold shirted officers.

“I thought I felt something…” the green-skinned Orion, Lieutenant Udal, spoke in his usual gruff voice and with arms folded across his broad chest.

“We lost sensors almost immediately, so we have no idea what happened,” the Bolian continued his report, “so the Captain sent Bellurr to investigate deck six. The XO went looking for you and Noli in the containment lab,” he told the grey-skinned woman, who looked a little more concerned now.

“Containment fields will be down across the ship and we have a massive source of blood dilithium aboard…” the Bajassian spoke, lowering her head as she braced herself against the pool table.

“It’s going to be a powder keg waiting to explode…” Ensign Jezi from Oolaron III remarked, looking around the group. The situation they faced was dire, especially if there was no way of working out what was wrong. They were going to have to get somewhat creative.

Or not. No sooner had they finished feeling sorry for themselves and completed task allocation, the lights in the engineering bay flickered into existence once again, followed by the familiar hum and glow of the massive warp core that dominated the heart of the ship.

“Smithy…”

“I swear to everything holy, it wasn’t me!”

“He’s not that good…”

“Quiet!” Prida barked over the laughs of her team. “Just because the power is back doesn’t mean we can rest on our laurels. I want to know why it went out in the first place, and I want to know the containment fields are functioning again. Recall everyone. Anyone in gold, formally in gold, or who thinks they may want to wear gold in the future,” she barked somewhat ferociously, “get them in here!”

Pacing the bridge, Tharia was threatening to wear away the thin carpet that blanketed the deck plating beneath. She must have done about a billion laps of the command center in the time since the XO and the team departed, unnerved at the wait for news she was having to endure. If she asked any of her crew for an adjective to describe her, patient would most definitely not be one of them.

“Henry?” she called out.

Spinning in his chair like it was some sort of carousel ride or something, the flyboy stopped only long enough to answer the Captain’s question. Just as he had the hundred times before.

“Still nothing, Captain.”

A heavy sigh accompanied the equally heavy footsteps that resumed their tour around the bridge, much to the annoyance of those few people still present; oh, how they hated it when the Captain was in this mood. It invariably ended poorly. As she passed the tactical Arch, she slapped the rail as she had a dozen or so times before, only this time something strange occured. As if by magic, lights and consoles across the bridge flickered back to life, drawing cheers from those few people holding station. 

Flinching her hands away from the console, an expression of utter shock on her blue face, the Captain looked towards the flight controller at the front of the bridge. “I didn’t do it; it wasn’t me,” she shook her head vigorously in response to Henry’s quizzical look from the CONN.

“Engineering to bridge,” a familiar voice, albeit accompanied slightly by static, filled the command center again. “Whatever you did up there, it worked!” Lieutenant Prida called out, an obvious tone of relief to her words.

Reaching down to the controls on her command chair, the captain opened a channel to respond. “Prida, it’s the Captain. We didn’t do anything up here,” sh’Elas revealed, “I assumed it was you…”

“Negative Captain,” the engineer reported, “but we’ll get to work on figuring it out.”

Now the ship’s systems seemed to be working once again, the comm array failed to get a moment’s respite. The latest was a strange request by sickbay. “Sickbay to Captain,” the ACMO spoke.

“Go ahead, Doctor…”

“Captain, we need you in sickbay right away,” Lieutenant Torres requested, “but please don’t travel alone.”

Tharia exchanged concerned glances with Henry at the CONN, who tapped his commbadge and began a hushed conversation. “Alright Doctor,” the Captain responded, “I’ll be there shortly.”

Usually, Tharia wouldn’t take kindly to one of her subordinates giving her instructions, but the tone with which Josue had chosen his words hinted that there was something of concern going on, and given the strange scenario they seemed to be playing, the Captain was willing to play along. Thus, on her departure from the bridge, the Captain had been joined by a two man, armed, security team summoned by Lieutenant Mitchell. They observed their commanding officer throughout the slightly awkward turbo lift ride to deck twelve, and on her journey from lift to sickbay. Upon depositing the Captain safely inside, the two officers remained on station either side of the door, awaiting instructions.

Chaos was the only word to describe the situation in the medical bay once the Captain crossed the threshold. Concerned medical professionals scuttled about the place in a vain effort to support the crewmates that had been admitted, and those who were already present and struggling under the effects of exposure to blood dilithium aboard the ship.

Sidling up to the Tellarite who was stood on the boundary, the Captain placed a hand on the small of the man’s back to get his attention. “What the hell’s going on down here?” she inquired.

A wave of relief flooded over the man, once cool, calm and collected, but now with more than a hint of concern about him. “Captain,” he sighed, “It’s not looking good ma’am, and that’s before we even get to the telepaths,” he frowned, waving her over to a new biobed.

Joining her right-hand man, the shock on the Captain’s face at the sight of Commander Noli laid on the bed prompted the fuzzy-haired XO to elaborate. “I found her in the containment lab. She was on the floor, unconscious and entirely unresponsive. The medics have tried waking her, but with no success.” He watched as the Captain placed a hand on the Bajoran’s arm, then nodded in the direction of the biobed next door. “Same with Bellurr,” he told, “she was found on deck six by Ensign Valesa and brought here.”

“Deck six?” The location dawned on the Captain now, “the origin of the explosion…”

Vasoch nodded in confirmation. “Thanks to the redundant systems in sickbay, we managed to access the LCARS system on one of the more advanced tricorders. We tracked the explosion to guest quarters on deck six assigned to someone in particular,” he then lowered his voice to a whisper, “a woman named Maevis. I’ve got a security team doing a sweep of the quarters for any sign of her, but so far nothing.”

“She’s still alive…”

A quiet, feminine voice from nearby drew the attention of the two senior officer’s, both of whom were shocked to see Counsellor Chiera stirring and looking their way.

Tharia gave the Counsellor a reassuring smile as she rounded the beds and walked up to her colleague. “How can you be so sure, Vittoria?” she asked, placing a gentle hand on the Betazoid’s restrained arm.

“I don’t know how,” a strained voice responding, sounding like a woman much in need of a beverage, “but I can sense her emotions clearer than anyone else on the ship, clearer than I can yours, with you standing right here,” the woman whispered, voice cracking. Straining against the restraints of her biobed, the look of concern on her face startled the Captain.

“Find her, Captain…” the Counsellor pleaded, “find her before she hurts anyone else…”

Watching as the Counsellor slipped back into a restless state of unconsciousness, the Captain exchanged glances with Vasoch as the Doctor approached. “Could this Maevis be responsible for the attacks on these women?” she asked of the two men.

“From what the away team have told me, it is entirely plausible,” Doctor Torres nodded, arms folded across his chest. “Ren in particular was quite clear that this woman exhibited powers far superior to anyone else, even under the restriction of the neuroinhibitors on the surface,” his words causing the Captain and XO to shuffle nervously.

“Wonderful…” Sass beyond belief emitted from the Andorian as she threw her hands in the air briefly, before placing them on her hips. “What about our people?”

“They’re sedated and calm for the most part,” Torres revealed, looking around the biobeds, “my biggest concern is for Bellurr and Noli. Without knowing what happened to them, I have no way of treating them. For all intents and purposes, they’re asleep…”

“Probably the safest place to be right now,” Vasoch grimaced, drawing a nod from the physician.

“Bridge to sickbay,” the very southern American vibe of the Terran CONN officer filled the medical bay, swiftly bringing their conversation to a halt.

“Go ahead Henry,” the Captain authorised the man.

“Captain, we’ve got sensors back,” the CONN officer revealed, “but they’ve detected six Hirogen vessels circling, or closing in on the nebula.”

An Andorian expletive left the blue-skinned woman’s lips, acknowledged by the Tellarite with a nod of agreement. “Maintain position, but be ready to get out of here at a moment’s notice,” the Captain instructed, tapping her badge and terminating the channel.

A worrying development for sure. She had no choice but to give her next orders. “Number One; have all security teams report in and begin securing the ship. I want random patrols and anyone who is not in the right place to be apprehended,” she told sternly, “Computer, intruder alert!” she beckoned impatiently, “lockdown all guest quarters, shuttlebays and cargo bays. Restrict access to senior staff, security and medical personnel,” she instructed sternly.

Whilst the lights across the ship changed from the crimson red of the heightened state of alert they seemed to be residing in lately, to a more unusual blue with flashing accents, the Captain and her officers continued their discourse.

“Perhaps the intruder alert will spook Maevis and cause her to lash out further?” the Doctor suggested, a look of concern on his face, “I’d like additional security assigned to sickbay.”

“It might force her to ground, meaning she’ll stop her attacks and give us crucial time to close in,” Tharia suggested, nodding in response to the Doctor’s request. “Either way, we need to find her.”

Vasoch ran a hand through his beard several times, in deep contemplation for a minute.

“Captain, I might have an idea…”

Being cooped up in a prison cell was far from what Devore Inspector Kravik had expected to be doing with his time just twenty-four hours earlier. How times had changed. Instead of enjoying the creature comforts of the Starfleet vessel he had assumed control of, he was now pacing what room he had in the prison cell he shared with six other soldiers. He was more than a little perturbed at the sounding of intruder alert, with the prisoners last being told that the Hirogen were circling nearby. Had they found the Ulysses? Perhaps they had been the reason for the power outage that had deactivated the brig forcefields. Only the three, heavily armed security officers on standby in the room had prevented the soldiers from attempting any form of escape.

Perhaps the Hirogen were finally on the hunt? What would that mean for him and his men, locked up in these cells and easy to find? As the doors to the room parted, he half expected to find out. But alas, the only figure to enter was that of the woman he had shared a proverbial dance with over the last week or so.

“Captain! We meet again,” the Inspector grinned, stepping up to the forcefield to greet the woman. Something was different about her now, something that one did not need to be a telepath to ascertain. “You’re looking stressed. How can we help?” he smiled mockingly.

“You can start by telling me what you know about this Maevis character,” Tharia suggested, standing almost nose to nose with the balding man, a look of disdain on her dishevelled face.

Kravik scoffed and waved his hand at her derisively. “I know nothing of who you speak,” the Inspector retorted.

“Funny,” the Andorian countered, not so much as a hint of humour in her voice, “but we picked her up from your facility, and now she is out there, attacking anyone she comes in contact with… including the people currently keeping you and your men safe,” the Andorian revealed, causing the Inspector to stop in his tracks.

“I’d wager that she’s pretty unhappy at being kept captive by you, and your men. It’s probably why she is lashing out now,” the woman shrugged. “Maybe if you tell me what you know, I’ll think twice about sharing your location with her…”

Kravik spun on his heels and looked at the blue-skinned woman. Gone was the jovial, cocky tone, the cheery disposition and fake smile. In its place, one of great concern. “If you want to survive, Captain, the last thing you want is for her to find us…”

Those were not words she expected to hear from Kravik, nor were they ones that filled her with great joy or gave her any hope in finding the woman. “Tell me what you know, and I’ll do what I can to keep you, and your people, safe,” she promised, rather sincerely too.

“If she finds us, it will be too late for everyone,” Kravik whispered, stepping to the forcefield, so close in fact that his breath caused the field to sizzle. “Don’t let her fool you, Captain. Maevis is not what she seems…”

Emerging onto the bridge from the aft turbo lift, Tharia was accompanied by every member of the senior staff that remained in action. Whilst the majority made their way to the StratOps suite, the Captain stopped at the tactical Arch and called for Henry to join the senior staff, leaving the bridge (albeit temporarily) under the watch of Ensign Valesa.

“Seems like an age since we were all together,” Henry smiled as he skipped down the steps and joined the little huddle in the mission control room at the back of the bedroom.

“Update on the Hirogen?” Tharia requested, ignoring the young man’s quip and getting straight down to business.

“There can be no doubt that they know where we are, Captain,” the flyboy frowned, perching against the rail next to the steps. “They’re spread out, holding position and waiting for us to come to them,” he concluded.

“And that is exactly what we’re going to do,” Tharia responded, politely excusing herself as she squeezed between Akaria and Linn for a moment and began tapping on one of the control panels. “After talking with Kravik, I’ve determined we need to get out of this nebula, and as far from the blood dilithium asteroid as possible,” she turned, and looked at the staff with arms folded.

“What did he have to say?” Vasoch queried, looking at the screen, then the Captain. If she was willing to take the Ulysses into battle with six Hirogen vessels, then his words must have been good.

“From what Kravik told me, this Maevis character gains her strength from her proximity to blood dilithium,” the Andorian revealed, sensing the protests from her people but continuing anyway. “I’m convinced that we need to get out of this nebula and jettison the blood dilithium we have aboard if we want to stand any chance of apprehending this woman before anyone else is attacked,” she concluded, looking at her team to see who would be brave enough to step up and question her first. She was not let down.

“Are you sure you can trust Kravik, Captain?” Lieutenant Prida asked, looking sheepish as she queried her commanding officer’s decision.

“Normally, I’d say no,” Tharia responded, “but you don’t need to be a telepath to sense the fear Kravik had at the thought of this woman being loose on the ship, and potentially coming for him.”

“So we use the Devore as bait?” Vasoch asked now, hands on his hips as he looked at the Andorian.

“We use the Devore as part of a trap to apprehend Maevis,” the Captain revealed. “I’ve already stationed additional security in the brig. They have been authorised to use deadly force if necessary to capture this woman,” she didn’t give the Tellarite chance to argue back before moving to her next question. “Prida; what is it looking like in engineering?”

Gesturing with a thumb over her left shoulder and towards the Master Systems Display, the Bajassian shrugged. “Everything’s fine. I can’t figure out what happened, but every system is functioning as if there had never been a problem. It’s most infuriating,” the grey-skinned engineer pouted.

“And what of your analysis of the blood dilithium, Akaria?”

“We’ve had to restart the analysis since the power outage,” the science officer reported, “but the analysis should be complete within the hour.”

“Then we’re not going to get a complete analysis,” the Captain shook her head, “once we leave here, we put my plan into motion. I want the blood dilithium beamed off the ship at the earliest convenience and I want us out of this nebula. We fight our way through until we reach communications range and can call for reinforcements. Make the preparations.”

And with that, the discussion was apparently over, the Captain heading for the main bridge and resuming her seat at the heart of the command center. Whilst some of the team didn’t necessarily agree with her following the advice of the Devore Inspector, they knew better than to argue with her when her mind was made up. And no one seemed to have a better solution.

Although she hadn’t been mistress of her own ship for very long, she had got much better at dealing with the pressure that came with the job. Yes, she still sought advice and solace from her team, especially the XO, but she felt that made her a stronger leader, rather than a weaker one. Dealing with the weight of the galaxy being on her shoulders seemed to be common place of late, but these people made it so much easier. And even now, as she watched them reluctantly put her plan into motion, she knew that Ulysses was all the better for them. She cared for these people, and she needed to get them home safe.

A short while later, the dutiful Vasoch returned to the bridge and Tharia the nod that she had been waiting for. It was time to go. His plan was in place, he’d made sure his people knew their responsibilities and they were as ready as ever. Security continued to roam the hallowed halls of the Ulysses, and he opted to take on the duties of the tactical officer in the absence of the two most senior department officials.

“Okay Henry,” Tharia called out, bracing herself, “it’s time to get out of here.”

Dancing his fingers across the controls, the stern looking flyboy began his part in things. “Okay Princess,” he whispered while twirling his fingers across the controls, “lets dance.”

As responsive as ever, the behemoth belied her size limitations and spun on her y-axis, turning a near one hundred and eighty degrees before gaining speed and heading for the periphery of the nebula cloud. Under the strain if the toxic gases, the bulbous buzzard collectors glowered as bright as the impulse engines either side of saucer section. Ulysses was on her way once more.

Beyond the noxious gases, Hirogen vessels scuttled in their excitement, having used their sensors to detect the power surge of their massive prey. And it was now moving, slowly at first, but definitely moving in the direction of the growing wolf pack. Patience had paid off. Their prey was walking into their trap.

Or were they?

“Approaching the edge of the gas cloud.”

Watching on the holographic viewscreen at the front of the bridge, the bridge crew prepared for the clash to come with the steely determination they always demonstrated. As the toxic gas clouds began to evaporate before them, the shadows of vessels lying in wait appearing in their path, deep breaths could be heard across the command center, officers bracing themselves against consoles and chairs alike. Combat was never a Starfleet officer’s preference, and whilst they were always prepared to defend themselves, it was never their desire to inflict harm on anyone else. Today, there was an inevitability about the situation they faced; some species could not be negotiated with, hell bent on using violence to further their cause. It just so happened that in the last week or so, Ulysses had come across two of the most dangerous species in the Delta quadrant.

In mere seconds, the mighty Starfleet vessel, which towered over the swarm of Hirogen vessels awaiting her, emerged from the nebulous gases, a large target on her massive hull. In an instant, the wolf pack began their assault, surrounding the behemoth and unleashing the full force of their weapons at will; but the Starfleet ship was tougher than any Alpha quadrant vessel they had come across to date. Torpedoes bounced off of her high-powered deflector shields, and she absorbed their energy beams as her impulse engines propelled the Galaxy-class starship through the swarm.

Unbeknownst to the hunters on their smaller warships, their prey was not as wounded as they were led to believe. And having never encountered one of her kind before, they had no idea what she had in store for them. In a hail of fury, bright orange lances of phased energy seemed to burst from every port possible on the hull of the Starfleet ship, firing indiscriminately in an effort to hold off her much smaller foes. When they entered her forward and aft firing arcs, photon torpedoes launched at high velocity, in single shots and in bursts, all in an effort to provide an effective defense through the art of a strong offense. At first it worked, scattering the Hirogen ships and causing them to regroup and refocus, but soon, their coordinated attacks threatened to overwhelm even her powerful shields.

Rocking under the targeted strikes of their enemy, the bridge felt less like a command center and more like a triage unit on a battlefield. Medical personnel had already arrived to deal with bloody heads and burns from exploding consoles; her internal wounds far more severe than what could be seen on the hull beyond.

“Shields down to forty-seven percent,” Vasoch called from the tactical Arch behind his Captain, never once removing his beady eyes from his display.

“Rerouting power to the defence grid from non-essential systems,” Linn barked from Ops just a few feet away.

“Evasive maneuvers, point seven three,” Tharia barked over the din of the battle, her eyes glued to the screen at the forefront of the bridge.

“Aye Captain,” Henry barked, fingers dancing swiftly across the CONN, the mighty ship answering to his will and changing course as best it could under the strain of battle and with her limited maneuverability.

“Enemy vessels regrouping for an assault on the aft shield grid,” Vasoch revealed, “rerouting targeting array.”

“All power to the aft shields,” Tharia barked in response, watching as the enemy vessels on the screen swerved her outpouring of the weapons grid and made for the back of the ship, where her defences were weakest. Tapping her commbadge, the Captain called down to the lower decks. “Engineering, are you ready?”

“Warp engines standing by Captain,” the familiar voice of Lieutenant Prida responded swiftly.

“Henry…”

“Entering warp in three… two…”

But one never came; a massive blast on the aft shields caused explosions across the ship, including on the bridge itself, sending the flight controller hurtling from his station at speed. As his relief took over, medical teams tended to the injured flight controller, but for now they seemed to be dead in the water.

“Prida!” the Captain barked into the open comm array, getting a curt ‘on it’ in response from the Bajassian in the ship’s nerve center.

“Fire at will Commander,” the Andorian instructed the Tellarite at tactical.

“Sickbay to bridge!”

Tharia cursed under her breath before tapping the controls of her chair arm and opening a channel in response to the medical bay. “Go ahead Doctor,” she answered.

“I really need you down here, Captain. There is something you need to see,” Doctor Torres called out over the audible chaos in the medical bay.

“I’m a little busy up here right now, Doctor!” Tharia exclaimed, watching as one of the Hirogen vessels evaded a photon torpedo from the ship’s forward launch tube.

“I know Captain,” Torres barked back, “but we’re losing Commander Zinn,” the man’s voice sounded fragile, almost broken.

Glancing over her shoulder at Vasoch, the Tellarite was already on his way down the ramp and to the command arena. “Linn, take over at tactical,” the Andorian ordered as she flew out of her command chair and headed for the aft turbo lift, a silent passing of the torch to the Tellarite her last act on the bridge before disappearing from sight.

At the science station on the port wall, and so far relatively ineffective during the course of battle, Akaria had been monitoring various matters when something caught her eye. Something had been detected at the extreme range of the long range sensors. A swift analysis gave them hope.

“Commander!” she exclaimed, looking across at the restless Tellarite. “Sensors have detected a Starfleet vessel at extreme sensor range.”

For the first time in days, Vasoch smiled, turning his attention to the science officer. “Excellent news! As soon as they are in communications range, transmit a recurring distress signal. Tell whoever it is we’re under attack, outnumbered, and in need of urgent assistance.”

Whilst the focus of the bridge crew returned to the battle at hand, especially without their Captain to focus their efforts, Akaria complied with her orders. She transmitted a simple distress call on all Starfleet frequencies.

“This is Starship Ulysses. Help.”

USS Sojourner; Bridge – Deck 1;

Kirin sat on the bridge watching the space streak by as the Sojourner travelled at warp 8 towards the entrance to the Underspace network and then onwards to the Markonian Outpost. After the last few days and the ordeal in the binary pulsar system travelling at warp with no alien zombie creatures or strange crystalline entity like blood dilithium constructs trying to destroyer her ship was very soothing.

“What is our ETA to the network?” Kirin asked.

Dese, back at the con glanced at her controls, “Four hours at our current speed.”

“Ok, Ril,” Kirin said, turning back to look at the tactical officer. “The bridge is yours, I will be in my ready room.” Kirin was about to sit down at her desk with plans to write the official report when the coms activated.

“Captain to the Bridge!” Kirin rushed out of her ready room, hearing the urgency in Ril’s voice, “Report!”

“We have detected a Starfleet distress call four light years from our current position. It’s the Ulysses, they are under attack by multiple Hirogen ships,” Ril responded.

“Shit,” Kirin said aloud without realizing it. The Sojourner wasn’t in peak shape after the previous few days but she wouldn’t leave a Federation ship in need.

“Go to red alert and change course, maximum warp. We have a ship to help,” Kirin said as she settled down into her chair just as the lights dimmed and the klaxons began to sound through the ship.

USS Sarek Stardrive Section; Bridge;

There were hardly four steps of distance between the captain’s chair and the forward consoles in the USS Sarek‘s secondary bridge and that was the way Elbon liked it.  Serving as acting captain of the stardrive section, Commander Elbon Jakkelb was absolutely comfortable with a small handful of officers circling him.  As with the rest of the Sutherland-class decor, the secondary bridge’s surfaces were all burnished bronze and reflective copper, but the scale was much smaller.  It was a far cry from the screaming Elbon had to do to be heard across the cavernous space of the main bridge.

“Ensign Dolan, provide me a status update on the construction of the subspace trumpet?” Elbon asked.  

Before he even finished the question, Elbon had stood from the captain’s chair and moved to stand behind the two forward consoles, close to the viewscreen.  In a bit of retro furniture design, the chairs were half-reclined like the battle bridges of old.  This, however, was no battle bridge.  As a research cruiser, the forward stations were devoted to flight control and science.

Seated at the science one console, Dolan bluntly replied, “I don’t know, captain.  I’m not assigned to that project.”

“This is your time, ensign,” Elbon said with sagely enthusiasm.  “We left your department heads behind on the saucer section at Burleigh Minor.  You’re the captain’s duty science officer today.  It’s time for you to pause and take in the broader view.”

“Aye, captain,” Dolan replied dutifully, if not whole-heartedly.  “I’ll contact the mechanical science lab.”

Turning his back on Dolan, Elbon began the scant steps back to the captain’s chair.

“I don’t need to hear about every turn of the screw, mind,” Elbon added.  “A summary is all we need.  You’ve got to keep one eye on long-range sensors for Devore vessels or new signs of blood dilithium.”

When Elbon eased back into the captain’s chair, he asked, “CONN, what’s our ETA for rendezvous with the saucer section?”

A shrill LCARS beep interjected.

“Captain, I have a summary from the science lab,” Dolan said, “but I also have a distress signal.  How would a science chief–“

“Distress signal!”

A massive explosion in the StratOps suite at the back of the Ulysses bridge rendered the entire area powerless and out of action, the personnel who had been working there forced to relocate onto the bridge and the extra consoles dotted around the command center.

“Engineering to bridge! Impulse engines are back online,” the joyful voice of Lieutenant Prida filled the bridge, causing the relief CONN officer to smile and begin moving the ship once more.

“Change course for the Starfleet vessels Akaria detected,” Vasoch ordered, clinging to the arms of the command chair to keep his body steady and upright under the strain of the battle. “Engineering; prepare to jettison the blood dilithium capsule,” he called into the open channel.

“Transporters standing by,” Prida reported over the comm.

“Helm, pick up speed. Put some distance between us and the enemy vessels,” the pig-faced, mottle-skinned Tellarite instructed in a tone far sterner than he had meant.

But the helm officer responded as expected, and so too did the ship. In a sudden burst of speed, the ailing giant sped forth from its would be captors, creating the space her crew craved in order to make their plan work. Unresponsive at first, the Hirogen hunters soon gave chase to their prey, trying to close the gap between them when a strange blue light flickered in the darkness of space, signalling the appearance of a peculiar object. It didn’t stay there for long.

From the aft torpedo bay of the Starfleet ship, two blue lights hurtled across the distance and slammed into the object, obliterating it and causing an incredible shockwave that seemingly stunned all of the vessels in the vicinity.

It was a race to see who would respond first… A race won by the Hirogen, as the wolf pack surrounded their helpless prey and began to pound upon the vessel’s shields.

Nervous energy had filled the bridge of the Ulysses, all eyes on the viewscreen at the fore of the room. The tension was palpable as the Hirogen vessels seemed to regroup for another pass at the mighty explorer’s failing shields. There was a sense of foreboding among many that this may be their last hurrah.

But as in so many tales through history, just when all seems lost, hope appeared across the horizon.

USS Sarek Stardrive Section; Bridge

“Attack pattern kappa ten!” Commander Elbon ordered before the Sarek even dropped out of warp.

In the space of a blink, the Cherenkov radiation of streaking stars on the viewscreen was replaced by a flash of blinding light.  A moment later, an impending massacre became the dominant imagery on the screen.  Blocky scorpion-shaped warships were closing in on, and firing upon, a Galaxy-class starship’s deflector shields.  Judging by the flares of spatial distortion from those shields, they weren’t anywhere near peak condition.

Orange phaser beams from the Sarek visibly lanced out across the screen, landing true against two of the nearest warships.  Elbon had been about to congratulate the tactical officer when Ensign Dolan at the science one console provided a timely analysis.

Plainly horrified, Dolan said, “According to my sensor scans, the hulls on those Hirogen warships are plated in monotanium.  Our phasers had no effect on their power levels, maneuvering, or weapons strength.”

“Evasive maneuvering, Ensign Aloyye,” Elbon ordered the flight controller.  A heartbeat later, the stars on the viewscreen began to spin in response to the Sarek rolling away from the USS Ulysses and her attackers.

“Aft torpedoes,” Elbon said next and the viewscreen flipped to a sensor image of the melee the Sarek was running away from.  Slicing a hand through the air, Elbon ordered, “Fire as soon as you have a target lock.”  

He had barely got the words out when Hirogen phaser fire rained on the Sarek‘s shields, which rocked the ship, sending Elbon bouncing to the left.  Gripping his armrests, Elbon planted his feet and planned his next move as he watched three quantum torpedoes hurl toward the nearest Hirogen attacker.

USS Sojourner; Bridge

“How much longer?” Kirin asked as she sat at the edge of her seat. The frustration at the predicament was clearly evident in her voice.

“ETA, two minutes,” Belania answered. “The Ulysses is taking a beating…and the Sarek, its stardrive section at the least has just warped in and is now engaging the Hirogen but even with that they are hard pressed.”

Kirin looked back at her and nodded, “Looks like a bit of a reunion then for the Kunhri taskforce.” She paused for a moment before speaking, “Ril, get as much information as you can on those Hirogen. They are meant to be tough but not invincible; fine me a weakness. There is always a weak link. I want us to drop out of warp and hit them with the phase cannons at full power. We may not be a warship but let us show them the Sojourner has teeth.”

A calm anticipation settled over the bridge as everyone counted down the seconds in their heads. The soft red glow of the lights added to the underlying tension everyone felt. “15 seconds,” calm the calm voice of Belania.

“Ready all weapons. Ril tell m you have something for me?” Kirin asked.

“One second…” she responded, “Got it, one of the ships has a fluctuation in their shield. I have marked them as HV-alpha. If we hit it hard we should be able to punch through.”

Kirin nodded just a Belania spoke again, “3, 2, 1.”

The view screen flashed and resolved into an image of the imposing Galaxy-class vessel along with the stardrive of the Sutherland-class. Their shields flared as Hirogen ships rained weapons fire down on them but it was far from one-sided. Streaks of orange light flashed from both ships striking the attacking vessels just as a volley of quantum torpedos shot froth from the Sarek.

Without waiting for an order the dual-mounted phase canons on the Sojourner opened fire accompanied by two torpedos. The phaser raked along their predetermined target, the port nacelle. Its shields flared as it tried to negate the incoming fire but flickered and failed just as the torpedos struck home, the force of the blast steering the nacelle off causing the vessel to spin wildly as secondary explosions erupted along the ship. The Sojourner shot past the vessel at full impulse before but didn’t escape unscathed as it passed by the Hirogen vessels.

“Target’s weapons and shields are disabled,” Ril said as she held on to her console for ear life as the ship shook violently. She continued, “Incoming fire, shields at 65%. Damage reported on decks 1 thru 6 and an EPS conduit exploded on deck 6. Repair teams en route.”

Kirin nodded, “Target the vessel that the Sarek and Ulysses are firing on. Belania, get me Captian Taes and Captain sh’Elas.”

USS Sarek Stardrive Section; Bridge

“Shields are down to eighty percent!”

If the tactical officer’s shouted report wasn’t enough, pathetic fallacy emphasized the point.  Commander Elbon leaned back in the captain’s chair as he felt the deck rocking from another barrage of phaser fire from three different Hirogen ships.  For a moment, it felt to Elbon like the deck was falling out from under him.  His eyes cut to the holographic LCARS monitor on his left and he watched an adjustment being made by the operations manager, which brought Elbon’s experience of gravity back to normal.

Elbon swiped at the holographic panel to review the tactical read-outs for each of their Hirogen attackers.  He too spotted the vessel that lost shields and weapons between the combined attack of all three Starfleet vessels.  Elbon stabbed at the hologram of the vessel and gestured for its coordinates to pop up at the tactical and flight control consoles.

“Target this vessel,” Elbon ordered, “two more quantum torpedoes.  Helm, put us in position!”

In position was necessary, because the research cruiser Sarek could only fire torpedoes from the forward- and aft-facing probe launcher in the mission pod protruding from the stardrive section.  Ensign Aloyye swiped his hands over the flight controls and it sent the Sarek into a controlled spin.  The stars on the viewscreen streaked sideways and so Elbon put his gaze on his LCARS monitor.

As the forward launcher approached optimal position, Elbon said, “Fire!”

Elbon turned back to the viewscreen to watch the Sarek‘s quantum torpedoes join the Sojourner‘s in destroying the disabled Hirogen vessel in a brief flare of light.

“We’re being hailed by the USS Sojourner,” reporting Ensign Dolan.  Given the reduced crew on the Sarek‘s secondary bridge, the science officer was monitoring communications to avoid distractions for tactical.

Elbon nodded.  “On screen,” he said.  A heartbeat later, Captain’s Tarken and a Tellarite appeared on the viewscreen, their bridges divided in a split screen.

No doubt catching the two commanding officer’s unawares, the Tellarite on the bridge of the Ulysses addressed their rescuers first. “Captains! Your assistance is timely, and appreciated. Apologies if you were expecting Captain sh’Elas but she is currently dealing with matters in sickbay,” the pig-faced man smiled a toothy grin.

The image of Kirin nodded, “Glad we were able to arrive when we did, Commander Elbon. Is everyone ok on your end? Once we drive the Hirogen off I can send over medical and engineering teams.” As she spoke the bridge around her shook as the Sojourner took another hit.

“Our defenses our holding over here,” Elbon replied.  “We’re only really built for hit-and-run, but we can keep this up for a while longer!”

“Then, let’s teach the Hirogen that today is a very bad day to mess with Starfleet,” Vasoch’s grin evaporated to one of utter seriousness. “At your leisure, my friends!”

Sitting in space and watching as the events beyond the safety of the Galaxy-class starships bulkheads transpired, the tension evaporated in an instant. The sight of two of their own coming to their aid in a moment of crisis and chasing off their aggressors filled the bridge crew with elation.

But if they had known what was to come, they would not have been so quick to cheer…

Leaving the bridge in the middle of a battle was never a Captain’s wish, but the news of the struggle in sickbay to save the life of Doctor Zinn was something she could not ignore. Even now, as she stood in the center of the turbo lift, eyes closed, feet tapping nervously and listening to the sounds of the battle raging around the ship, the Captain felt no remorse about going to her friend’s aid. She’d lost her good friend, Javorian, several months ago during the Century Storm and had been unable to help him; she was not going to make that mistake now.

In her distracted state, the Captain failed to realise that her journey to sickbay had taken somewhat longer than expected. When the turbo lift doors opened and she did finally open her eyes, the Captain realised that something was definitely amiss. Instead of being on deck twelve, she had somehow ended up a whole fourteen decks away on deck twenty-six. Instead of sickbay, she was staring at the corridor that led to the brig. Confused, she pressed her left index finger upon the control display near the door.

“Computer, deck twelve,” she requested. Silence greeted her. A second attempt wielded the same results. Concerned, she tapped her commbadge, but a familiar crackle sound indicated that, for some reason, the comm array was not functioning once again. She was about to prise the panel off the wall and try manually rerouting the turbolift when a deafening screech from several meters down the corridor startled her, and drew her attention. Lights in the corridor flickered and were extinguished into nothingness, apart from a light emitting from an open doorway several meters down the corridor.

It was the Brig itself. A sudden realisation dawned upon the commanding officer; had her plan, which never actually came to fruition, somehow worked without her and the senior staff? Had they managed to apprehend the attacker, Maevis?

Removing the phaser from the holster on her hip, the Captain sprinted the short distance to the prison cells and slid to a halt in the open doorway. The sight that greeted her was enough to induce vomiting in even the most hardcore of horror movie enthusiasts. Dismembered bodies littered the prison room, Starfleet and Devore alike. Trails of congealed blood told the story of people trying to escape, and suffering at the hands of what could only be described as a beast. Beasts of legend such as the Minotaur, or even the modern day Species 8472 failed to inspire the horror that she observed as she edged into the room, her phaser drawn in her quaking hand.

A sound in the depths of the room caused the blue-skinned woman to stop in her tracks, and strain her eyesight to make out the source of the noise from the shadows. But she didn’t need to. Two figures soon emerged, one pushing the other into the light.

Collapsing to his knees in the grasp of the mammoth creature behind him, Inspector Kravik looked nothing short of traumatised at what had befallen him, his people, and the additional Starfleet security officers who had been sent to keep them safe. But she didn’t have time to dwell on the man, instead her gaze was on the being behind him.

Tall and gangly, looking like a fragile tree that would blow over in a strong wind, the being was unlike anything she had seen before. Not a trace of hair on its body, the creature had divots where eyes would be expected, and the absence of a nose. Long, wrinkly fingers were attached to hands that clung to tendril like arms.

It was unmistakable; it was the creature they had been hunting all along. Not this Maevis character the away team had reported, but the collaborator everyone had presumed was left behind.

It was the ‘One’. And she could feel it bearing into her soul, despite the absence of eyes with which to see. Perhaps it was the extra-sensory perception her antennae provided, or perhaps it was something else, but she did not like the feeling as it snarled in her direction.

Sickbay in the midst of any battle was usually mayhem when the casualties rolled in and medical professionals were called out across the ship, but in this particular situation, the injured on the crew were not the issue. Instead, the telepathic crewmen who had been sedated until recently were busy making a nuisance of themselves. All four were laid on their biobeds, convulsing in a manner consistent with some form of toxic shock, but with no obvious cause present. As Doctor Torres and his inherited team went about their business the best they could, the convulsing seemed to get worse. Backs arched, shaking like crazy beneath the straps that contained their otherwise lifeless bodies. The biggest concern was the fact that all four crewmates began convulsing simultaneously; Chiera had shown a little more life than the others in recent hours, prompting hope she was turning a corner, but even she had regressed to such a state.

“Just do what you can to keep them secure and stable,” Torres barked at his team of nurses. He had no idea what else to say, entirely out of his comfort zone and out of his depth. Oh, how he wished Zinn was awake and back to his usual sarcastic self. He’d gladly trade places with the Deltan if it meant that he coul…

“NOOOOOOO!”

Four simultaneous cries, a mixture of aggression and a feeling of trauma,  erupted around the medical bay, scaring the crap out of the doctors and nurses tending to the telepaths, and causing Torres to take a step back from the biobed housing the young Aenar that he had been observing at the time of the convulsions commencing.

Suddenly, the violent shaking stopped, and all four bodies slumped back to the biobeds; heavy breathing indicated the toll the outbursts had played on the unconscious bodies of the away team. But there were signs of life at last, as eyes began to open. Not in a flicker, but wide-eyed and with a great sense of concern.

“Captain… Find the Captain…” Tempestava whispered, turning her head to look at the concerned face of the Doctor, her pale green antennae drooping drastically as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Torres placed a hand on the youngsters should and tried his best to reassure her of the Captain’s safety. “Its ok. The Captain’s on the bridge, dealing with the Hirogen. You’re all safe in sickbay…”

His words were cut off by the Chief Medical Officer from the biobed next to the young Aenar. “No, Doctor. No, she isn’t… Find her…”

Torres found the warning both concerning and sinister. The hispanic earthling lifted his hand and tapped his commbadge nervously. “Sickbay to bridge,” he called out. A few seconds later, the response he got was one that surprised him.

“What is it now doctor?” the stern bark of the Tellarite executive officer retorted through the battle-induced static on the commline.

‘Now?’ Torres thought for a split second before shaking it off and responding to the Tellarite’s question before he got anymore antsy. “I’m looking for the Captain, sir. Is she with you?” he asked.

Another mammoth explosion rocked the ship, causing the Doctor to almost lose his balance as he waited for the XO’s reply.

“Of course she isn’t!” Vasoch argued back. “You called her away five minutes ago in the middle of battle,” the Tellarite argued. In any other time, he might have enjoyed such an argument, but not in the middle of a battle for their lives.

‘What?’ None of this made sense to the Doctor, looking across at the concerned faces of the two telepaths who were awake and glancing over at him. Their eyes were urging him, pleading with him. “Commander, I never made any such request,” the Doctor elaborated for the bridge.

Finally waking up herself, Vittoria blinked through a tear-filled haze in order to glare across at the Doctor. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks. “Too late…” she whispered, then slowly turned her head and stared at the ceiling of the medical bay.

“Too late…”

“Find her, Commander!” the medical officer barked, in a way that Vasoch may have been proud of under any normal circumstance, but not today, not now. The second part of the Doctor’s message was what concerned him the most. “She’s in great danger. Find her and get back to me. Consider it a medical order!”

As the line went dead, the bridge fell silent. With Sojourner and Sarek on hand to chase off the Hirogen attackers, the barrage of weapons fire had stopped, and the deck plating was no longer quaking beneath their feet.

Standing from his chair, the Commander looked across at Linn. “Get me a security team,” the XO instructed before literally spinning on his heels and glaring at the Risian at science. He pointed an almost accusatory finger at the woman. “Find her!”

Akaria was on it before the XO had even finished his words. Panic threatened to overwhelm her at the thought of the Captain in danger somewhere on their ship, but she had to try and bury it whilst she used the internal sensors to track their superiors bio signs. After a few seconds, she clapped her hands together. “Bingo!” she smiled. “Deck twenty-six,” she smiled, before the realisation hit her of where that meant.

Simultaneously, Risian, Bolian and Tellarite alike exclaimed the same two words; the Brig!

Tapping his commbadge, “Bridge to Captain sh’Elas,” the Tellarite called hopefully, his hands on his hips as he tried to focus himself. The silence in return was almost deafening.

“Reroute the security team to deck twenty-six,” Vasoch ordered at Linn, making for the aft turbo lift. “Akaria, if you can reach the Captain, let her know we’re on our way.”

Vanishing into the turbo lift, he waited for the doors to close and conceal him within the transportation device before ordering it to his desired destination. Running his fingers through his matted brown locks, the Tellarite let out a vicious snarl; not at anything or anyone but himself. Had he unwittingly let his Captain walk into a trap that she had warned him of?

Arriving at deck twenty-six in the blink of an eye, the man emerged from the turbo lift to be greeted by the security team that had been dispatched to the Captain’s location by the Bolian operations chief. Both officers looked as if they had been hit by a cargo transporter travelling at warp speed, the Tellarite fearing the worst.

“You don’t want to go down there sir,” the older of the two yellow-uniformed officers tried to stop the XO from going past them, but the Tellarite slipped his arm from the Terran’s grasp and gave him a scowl that a Klingon would have been proud of before making his way towards the brig.

Several deep breaths of composure were not enough for the sight that befell him when moving through the darkness and turning through the doorway into the room of flickering lights.

The hand moved to his mouth subconsciously, as did the bile that rose from the pit of his stomach as he collapsed to his hands and knees. Vomit involuntarily ended up all over the floor beside him and in his beard with every wretch until he could wretch no more. Wiping his bearded chin on the sleeve of his jacket, the Vasoch forced himself to take a few more deep breaths and steady himself; but as he turned his head slowly, the tears that streamed down his dark-skinned cheek flowed uncontrollably.

What he saw would undoubtedly scar him for life. It was a fate he would wish on no one, not even the worst of enemies. Collapsing to his backside, the man dragged his legs before him and used his hands to steady himself.

Captain Tharia sh’Elas, who had led her ship and crew with the greatest of distinction since taking over, who had earned his respect and admiration over the nine months they had worked together, deserved a far better fate than this. She deserved to ride off into the sunset at a time of her choosing, after many years of service and upon taking retirement when she saw fit. She did not deserve to be found on the floor of the brig, her throat slit almost ear to ear and her entrails draped along the floor around her lifeless body.

Vasoch was still on the floor when Doctor Torres and the medical team arrived, and helped him to his shaky feet. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the Captain’s lifeless body whilst Josue tried to usher him out of the room. Somewhere in the ether, a voice had tried to assure him that they would take care of things and that he didn’t need to be there, but he couldn’t help himself. “She’s my Captain…” he whispered, trying to turn around but being prevented from doing so by the Doctor and the security team.

The next few minutes were like an out of body experience as the man held some sort of conversation with the security team and then somehow found himself stood in the middle of the turbo lift, unsure of where he was heading. Holding his right arm across his chest and clutching hold of the left, he spotted the vomit stain on the sleeve of his uniform jacket. In a rage, he whipped the jacket off, hurled it into the corner of the turbolift just in time for the lift to slow to a crawl and eventual halt. He had only just brought some sort of composure to himself when the lift doors parted and revealed the bridge, alive with activity.

Stepping onto the solid, immovable decking of the bridge, the Tellarite looked more than a little uncomfortable. At first, no one seemed to notice him, but once the first did, followed by the next and so on, a hush swept the command center, bodies and faces turned in his direction. Looking for answers, looking for reassurance. Looking for hope.

He could give them none, of course. But he had to tell them the truth, right? They were his people now, and he had to tell them the truth; he couldn’t lie to them, or pretend like everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t. Taking a few tentative steps away from the turbo lift doors, he soon found himself at the tactical Arch and beside the Bolian operations chief. He pressed a single button on the console, and excused the Bolian from his duties whilst he spoke into the now open communications channel.

“All Starfleet personnel, this is the Commander,” he spoke solemnly, “It is my sad duty to inform you that Captain Tharia sh’Elas has been lost in the line of duty.”

Gasps and cries on the bridge no doubt echoed what could probably be heard in locations across the ship as the Tellarite took a moment before continuing. “She was a dedicated Starfleet officer, the finest of examples and a loyal friend. She was our Captain, and we were lucky to know her. Her loss is tragic and will be felt by all aboard,” he said, never a truer word spoken from his lips. “Under the protection of the starships Sarek and Sojourner, we will continue into friendly territory and will assess a way forward then. For now, do your duty, and do your Captain proud. There will be chance to say your farewells in the days to come. Gor out.” Pressing the button a second time, the comm channel closed.

Never in his life had he experienced the silence that filled the bridge now. No one knew what to say, what to do, or seemingly how to even go on. He felt just as they did, but he couldn’t show it; he had to show the leadership they needed.

“Lieutenant Mora,” the man called out to the Bolian who had now returned to his trademark operations station, “You are acting XO until Commander Noli is back on her feet. Please thank the Captain’s of Sarek and Sojourner for their assistance and inform them of our loss. Request their assistance in safely returning to friendly space and let them know I’ll be in touch shortly,” he instructed of the acting XO before turning to Akaria. “Liaise with the science officers aboard both vessels and see what we have missed in the days we’ve been away,” he continued, knowing the analysis of blood dilithium would have continued apace without them.

Wandering around the starboard end of the tactical Arch, Vasoch stood in front of the Captain’s seat for a moment and stared at it, before opting to sit in his own chair to the right. “Lieutenant Mitchell, best possible speed to the Markonian Outpost,” he instructed, folding one leg over the other and grasping hold of the chair arms for both comfort and security.

By the time he was comfortable enough to check the display on the arm of his chair, the XO was intrigued to see a message from Doctor Torres. Having read it quite swiftly, the XO decided that for now, he would opt to remain silent on the cause of the captain’s death, or the fact that her killer had apparently killed itself in an effort to avoid capture. He summoned the Doctor to the bridge for an update at his earliest convenience, but for now, things stayed the same.

As the senior officers silently went about their work, life on the bridge went back to some level of normality…

…but with a very large hole to be filled.

‘Mourn not the passing of a life well lived, yet celebrate. Count the times your souls smiled together, reached out so invisibly yet tangibly and touched. Death is only the end of a chapter, my friend. And so as this body makes ready to return to the soil, my spirit will watch over you and live in your heart. It will bring sadness as we transform to this new way of connecting, yet this is part of living.’

Standing at the mirror in the bathing area of his quarters, Vasoch could do nothing but remember the words of his great grandfather many years earlier as he stood, trying to make sense of this latest loss. Their loss. His loss.

‘Death is the gateway to rebirth, and as someone beloved passes through, we both mourn and celebrate. We feel their loss in our life, yet we celebrate all that they achieved in their lifetime for goodness, for love, for the natural world. It is a time when we are most aware of how sacred living is and to appreciate the gift all the more.’

Right now, it felt like he would struggle to appreciate anything given the tragedy that had just befallen the crew. Ten crewmates had been killed in the most heinous, senseless way possible, and among them their Captain.

It was safe to say their relationship had been somewhat fraught at the beginning, with sh’Elas and her people transferring to the Temeraire in the wake of a command disaster both prior, and during, the Century Storm. He’d seen her as a usurper, taking the rightful command of Captain Ruas and making out she was the saviour. Hell, he’d even resented the crew of Santa Fe for coming in and taking the jobs of dedicated crewmen. But in time, throughout the crisis in Romulan space, and especially since they had joined the Ulysses together, they had found a respect for each other. She had felt comfortable enough to come to him for advice, for counsel, and he felt comfortable enough to administer it (whether it was warranted or not). Hell, they had even begun to socialise and consider each other friends. Now she had been taken from them. If she had been taken by Starfleet, promoted to some far off land, he’d have been happy for her, but this loss was nothing short of tragic. A career in the shadows of an excellent commanding officer, she’d finally been given her own chance to shine in the Captain’s chair, to make her own mark. And that she had. On him, and on this crew.

Using his wrinkled hands to splash water on his tired face, the Captain’s Tellarite executive officer could only imagine how people like Prida, Chiera, Zinn and Noli would feel. They’d been with Tharia on the Santa Fe, they’d worked with her through thick and thin, and they trusted her. If she was his Captain after such a short time working together, he could only imagine what she meant to them. And ugh, poor Noli. Lying on that medical biobed, unconscious and alone, she would have to wake up at some point in the near future and deal with the loss they were all dealing with now.

Turning away from the mirror in disgust, the Tellarite returned to his living quarters and looked around in silence. Just yesterday, he’d been confined here, alone, and wondering whether they would ever be free from the clutches of the Devore. Now, a standard Federation day later, she’d been the one to mastermind their escape, and to retake their ship; she was the one to bring them freedom. She was the one who had paid the price. Too high a price. A price paid in blood. Her blood. And the blood of nine other officers, almost the entire prison populace in the Brig and, apparently, one vile, disgusting murderer who would now escape justice.

According to Doctor Torres, trace elements of unknown DNA had been found in the brig, DNA that didn’t belong to any of the Devore or Starfleet crewmen. Who the being was, it was anyone’s guess, but they were all determined to find out whatever they could. For their colleagues, for their Captain.

For now, he had the unenviable task of filling in Task Force Command with regards to their loss, and the recent fate of the ship. Wandering over to the replicator, he requested a glass of cold water and then took a sip. He wandered over to the desk he so often used and pulled the chair out from behind the workspace, collapsing into the warm leather seat. Tapping the control on the base plate of the computer console, he addressed the machine. “Computer,” he said, “open a secure channel to Captain Andreus Kohl aboard Discovery. Captain’s Priority encryption,” he directed, then sat back and waited while the computer worked its magic.

An animation of a Starfleet arrowhead logo slowly spun on the computer console’s display to pass the time while the computer conducted its subspace routing.  When the animation winked out, it was replaced by a live video link with Task Force Executive Officer Andreus Kohl, seated in a nondescript diplomacy suite aboard the USS Discovery.  A puzzled expression passed over Kohl’s widening eyes, but he blinked it away and set his jaw in a more neutral expression.

“Commander Gor,” Kohl said, offering a nod in greetings.  “It is a pleasure to hear from you — from anyone aboard the USS Ulysses after all this time.  Please don’t take this the wrong way if I admit…  You’re not the one I was expecting.“

Gor shifted uncomfortably under the weight of the words he was yet to say. He hadn’t expected to have to make this call either. Deciding that it was probably best not to prevaricate, the XO simply relayed the news that he had contacted their senior about. “Thank you sir, but I wish I was contacting you under better circumstances,” he began with the pleasantries, “but I regret to inform you that, late last night, Captain sh’Elas was lost in the line of duty,” the Tellarite let out sorrowfilled sigh.

Kohl spat the word “Lost?” back as if Gor had personally dropped Captain sh’Elas on an unknown planet in the Gradin Belt and failed to find his way back to her.  On the display, Kohl was seen shaking his head and blinking repeatedly, his brow furrowing intently between his eyebrows.

“Commander, I order you to be more precise in your choice of words,” Kohl said, too hotly.  “What do you mean by lost?“

Raising an eyebrow any Vulcan would have been proud of, Gor found himself wondering if this man was truly as intelligent as he had been led to believe. Still, if Kohl wanted him to be more precise, then precise he would be. “Captain sh’Elas was murdered by a powerful telepathic being that was brought aboard during recent events,” the Tellarite bit back. “A full report will be with you by the time we safely return to the Markonian Outpost,” he added swiftly, so that the Task Force Executive Officer didn’t feel he would be neglecting his responsibilities, even in the face of such a devastating loss.

The brave face Kohl was putting on crumpled at the clear and inescapable mention of murder.  Dropping his chin to his chest, Kohl cradled his face in the open palms of his overlapping hands.  Although Kohl muttered an oath, he spoke too softly for the audio sensor on his end to pick up the words.

Kohl breathed in through his nose and he straightened up his posture.  He dropped his hands to his sides.

With some urgency, Kohl asked, “How fares your crew?”

“They’ve just spent two weeks going through hell and now this. They’re devastated,” the much older man told as honestly as possible, “I’ve seen loss, I’ve experienced it, and it never gets easier. We have a young crew, and many have never experienced such tragedy.” He had to take a minute to compose himself, looking away from the screen as his eyes welled and a sniffle stopped by to say a brief hello. “They’re on their knees, but they’ll never show it. They’re putting on a brave face and responding with the dedication and fortitude the Captain would expect of them,” he added proudly.

On the display, Kohl nodded at each of Gor’s statements.  He smiled briefly at the pride he heard in Gor’s voice.

“I expect you played a large part in that achievement,” Kohl remarked.  “Thank you for bringing them home.”  He let that moment hang, making sure Gor truly received it.  And then, Kohl asked, “What resources do you need immediately?”

Glossing over the man’s remarks, unable to feel any pride in himself at present, Vasoch thought about his question for a little while. “Sojourner and Sarek have come to our aid, and rendered medical and engineering assistance. We’re about three light years from friendly space,” he advised the Captain, “but what we really need is some time to process, and grieve. And a slot in the queue for the next opening of the wormhole.”

“Of course, commander,” Kohl replied.  “I can make those arrangements.  In your absence, the fleet has made progress on devising a means to send blood dilithium back to subspace.  The risk it poses to telepathic species is too great.  We’re days away from conducting our first experiment.”

“And not a moment too soon,” Vasoch shook his head at the thought, “we’ve had our own issues with that stuff. We managed to rescue nearly six-hundred telepaths from a Devore internment camp where they were using blood dilithium to torture prisoners. Species from all over the quadrant. It was one of those individuals, unfortunately, that was responsible for the Captain’s death,” his voice full of regret for what had transpired in the face of trying to do something right.

Kohl shook his head, his eyes half-lidded when he said, “I’m so sorry for your loss; yours and your crew’s.”

On the LCARS panel, Kohl blinked a couple of times and then he appeared to sit up straighter in his chair.  Evidently, it took him a few seconds to process something Gor had said.

“You said you rescued nearly six hundred individuals from a Devore prison?” Kohl asked, his expression pained.  “Our task force presence on the Markonian Outpost is only equipped for fleet coordination and emergency medicine.  We don’t have sufficient Starfleet resources in the Delta Quadrant to support the daily living needs of an additional six-hundred civilians, let alone assisting their transit back to their own worlds…”

“We couldn’t leave them there,” Vasoch countered swiftly, “but many have expressed the willingness to simply go about their lives themselves. They’ve been cooped up for so long, they were just happy to get out of there. Many will make contact with their own species and those that can’t, most have formed friendships that will see them work together.” He took a deep breath as he sat back in the chair again. “They acknowledge that our part is done. They are free, and their freedom came at a heavy price for us,” he elaborated.

“It sounds like you have the situation well in hand, captain,” Kohl said pointedly.  “We’ll make preparations to receive your crew by the time you arrive.”

Vasoch blinked several times upon hearing the word ‘Captain’ used in relation to himself. He’d been called it by members of the crew in the hours since the Captain’s death, but to hear it from a superior made it, official? “That would be appreciated, Captain. Thank you. I’ll keep you apprised of any developments in the meantime,” the Tellarite nodded respectfully.

On the screen, Kohl said, “They’ll be looking to you now,” before the comm channel closed.

‘Looking to him now?’ Like he didn’t already know that. Every life aboard the ship rested on his shoulders now, and the weight of that expectation would weigh heavily on his shoulders until the ship returned to safety. At that point, who knew what would happen? He’d have time to think about it now, with the ship under escort and headed for friendly space. Well, in the morning anyway. For now, he had to try and find sleep in order to have the energy to guide his people home.

Death is only the end of a chapter, after all. He had to work out how to write the next one.

A little over a week after tragedy had struck the Ulysses crew, life had pretty much returned to some semblance of normality. Telepathic visitors and guests had departed, thanking their Starfleet friends for their efforts, and apologising profusely for their loss. Basic repairs had been completed while in orbit of the Markonian Outpost while the crew had enjoyed some much needed down time away from the ship, with some being given permission to make use of the ship’s auxiliary craft to visit nearby worlds. ‘Anywhere but here’ was often the words used when crewmembers were asked what they were going to do, or where they might go for their short break.

When the time came for the opening of the Barzan wormhole, crew across the ship had greeted the event with an overwhelming sense of relief. Everyone on the ship was done with the Delta quadrant, and none more so than the Tellarite who had accepted the moniker of Acting Captain. His final job was a simple one, to get the crew home safely one last time. And now, as he watched the ship maneuver through the mammoth bay doors of Starbase 38’s upper docking bay, Vasoch finally let himself take a deep breath and he gave a sigh of relief.

Soon enough, the Galaxy-class starship came to a complete halt. The flight controller at the front of the bridge turned in his chair and looked at the bushy bearded face in the command chair. “We’re at all stop, Captain. Docking umbilicals are connected at multiple connection points,” Henry smiled at the Tellarite.

It had been eight days, and still the diminutive, hairy Tellarite bristled every time someone addressed him as ‘Captain’. Pushing himself up and out of the command chair, the man scanned the room methodically, ensuring he made eye contact with every single person present.

Henry and Linn, reliable as always, sat in their forward chairs and looked at their leader. Either side of the bridge, Akaria and Prida were sat back in their seats, rocking slowly from side to side in an almost mirror image. At the tactical Arch, with arms folded across her chest, Commander Noli had recovered from her attack and had taken her rightful place on the bridge. Perhaps the most pleasing appearances were that of Commander Zinn and Counsellor Chiera, both sat either side of the command chair and fully recovered from their recent ordeals themselves. The senior staff had been joined in the command center for the journey home by a number of their colleagues. Matheus stood behind Akaria at the science station; Mayr Bellur and Ensign Valesa stood either side of the Bajoran at tactical. Lastly, the Aenar Ensign, Tempestava th’Zorati, stood near the engineering station. All had their eyes trained on the Tellarite. From the looks on a lot of their faces, sadness and regret was the order of the day.

“I’m not entirely sure what to say,” Vasoch told them, opting for honesty with the team. “We’ve been through a lot in the last month, and we’ve suffered an unimaginable loss,” he could feel himself welling up as he looked around the room. “I didn’t know the Captain as long as some of you, but in the time that I knew her, she showed herself to be a woman of the utmost integrity and she displayed kindness on a level I’ve never experienced before. I gave her such a hard time when she first came aboard, blaming her for the departure of Captain Ruas, and I will regret that for the rest of my life,” his words were from the heart, and evoked strong emotions from many around him. He lowered his head for a moment as he composed himself, sadness threatening to overwhelm his fragile person.

“We all deal with grief differently, and I want all of you to take some time for yourselves over the coming days,” he took a deep breath in before breaking his news to the team, “and when you get back here, I want you to give your new commanding officer the same respect, courage and dedication you showed the Captain.”

Those sat back in their chairs sat forward, whilst others looked at each other aghast at what they had just heard.

Biting the bullet, the flyboy at the CONN sought the clarification the rest desired, but suspected they had the answer to already. “You’re leaving?!” Henry queried.

Nodding slowly in confirmation, hands tucked into the pockets of his duty uniform, Vasoch bit his lip for a moment or two. “My resignation was transmitted to Starfleet the minute we entered the Alpha quadrant,” he explained. “I’ve been in Starfleet longer than some of you have been alive,” he smiled at Chiera and Henry,  “and I’ve been through so much, but this is one step too far for me. I need to go home, see my family.” He wanted to tell them what he really felt, that Starfleet used to be about exploring, about new civilizations, but how it now seemed that they were in a constant fight for survival. And this time, they had very nearly lost everything. He couldn’t, of course. His job now was to keep them stable for the final days of his service.

“Before I do, Tempestava and I have made arrangements with the Captain’s family to travel with her remains to Andor. There, she’ll get a suitable Andorian farewell,” Vasoch smiled at the silent Aenar stood at the side of the bridge.

His words were like a hammer blow to some around the room, but others had expected as much. Partially because they felt the pain of his loss as dearly as he, and partly because they, too, were planning similar moves.

Sharing a look with her Bajoran counterpart at tactical, Prida smiled and turned to the Tellarite. “Noli and I are leaving too,” she blurted out, to the surprise of many. “At least for a while,” she paused for a second, nodding slowly as she elaborated further, “we’re going to go home, to Bajor, meet each other’s families and deal with things in the Bajoran way.”

“Matheus and I are taking our son to Risa for shoreleave,” Akaria told from the science station, holding hands with her once estranged partner. “We’ll be back… when the time is right,” she added, smiling through the tears as Prida strolled over to her friend and shared a sweet embrace.

“Well since it seems we’re all abandoning ship,” Zinn blurted out from the XO’s seat, “I was offered a posting at Starfleet Medical before this crisis. I’ve decided I’m going to take them up on the offer,” the Deltan explained, a nod of respect shared with the Tellarite.

“Well I guess I’ll be staying here,” Henry frowned, arms folded across his chest in disgust. “Someone’s got to keep the old girl ticking over while you lot are gone.”

“I’ll be here too,” the bald-headed Bolian smiled at his counterpart next to him, a pact they had made long ago, held up at the last.

Smiling in appreciation at the two men and their loyalty to the ship, the Tellarite raised his arms, then dropped them to his side. “As we stand here now, I’m reminded of a quote from a book that the Captain leant to me shortly after she came aboard,” the acting Captain smiled, tears in his own eyes as he recalled the words. “Farewell… my brave Hobbits. My work is now finished. Here at last, on the shores of the sea… comes the end of our Fellowship. I will not say, Do not weep… not all tears are an evil,” he recalled, looking around the gathering one last time. “We may not be hobbits,” he smiled, “well, not all of us.” He joked, eliciting a laugh at his own expense, “but for now, this is the end of our fellowship.”

“I am proud with what we accomplished, despite the cost. Hundreds of people given their freedom once again; I’d give my life for that, and I am confident in saying that the Captain would have gladly given her life for such a cause’” the Tellarite continued until his gaze fell on the holographic viewer at the front of the command center. Looking into the viewscreen, and the safety of the docking bay that surrounded their ship, he smiled one last time. “While we may not be hobbits saving the Shire, or on a quest across Middle Earth to banish the ring of power, we have been a fellowship,” he told his people, “and what a fellowship we have been, my friends.”

The countryside beckoned. Almost two months on from the tragedy aboard the Starship Ulysses, today was a day of sunshine and rambling for Prida and her friend, with way too many apples packing out their bags and flowers in their hands. The sunshine was brilliant but not yet with the heat of the late Bajoran autumn. The air had more warmth and more fragrance than anything they had experienced in months. The music to meet their ears was an auditory painting from the winged artists as they called, sung and raised their new families in the treetops. It would soon be winter, but judging on the weather of today, there was still time to brace and prepare.

But for the two Starfleet officers, that time would be cut short. As they walked the rest of the way home to Noli’s family villa, a low flying shuttlecraft caught their attention, causing the two young women to up their pace. They arrived in the grounds of the Noli farmstead a few short minutes after the shuttle landed in the north field, just a matter of feet from the old villa her family had built over two centuries earlier. A lone officer in a crimson uniform stood with a data PADD, waiting for their approach.

Concerned glances between the two demonstrated their discomfort at the unexpected appearance of the Starfleet crewman. Their shoreleave still had at least three weeks to run, and so far they had gone the entire holiday without so much as a peep from anyone in the fleet, not even their colleagues from Ulysses. That was what they had requested, and what had so far been respected.

“What’s the meaning of this intrusion?!” an elderly man with a kane he waved freely above his head queried of the pilot, hobbling over from the ornate doorway to the garden beyond.

“Nonni,” Noli smiled as she intercepted her beloved grandfather (and no doubt protected the poor, unsuspecting fleeter in the process), but she soon looked at the younger man with a raised eyebrow. Beside her, Prida took care of Noli’s nonni, watching and listening.

“I’m sorry to disturb you both,” the Ensign looked genuinely sympathetic as he held out a data PADD to the blonde officer, “but you’re leave has been cancelled and you have been recalled. You are to report to Deep Space Seventeen in three days, ma’am.”

The youngsters explanation was quite clear, but one thing puzzled the Bajoran when she took ownership of the PADD. “What is Ulysses doing at Deep Space Seventeen?” she queried.

“I am not at liberty to discuss your orders, ma’am. I am simply here to relay your message as Starfleet Command has had difficulty contacting either of you,” he added.

A sheepish exchange of looks between the two women followed, and then a nod from the blonde, fair skinned senior of the two nodded to the Ensign. “Alright Ensign, thank you for your time.”

Watching as the man boarded his shuttle once again, Noli joined Prida on supporting Nonni from the other side, turning to guide the ancient man back inside. “I wonder what’s going on…” she mused, looking at her counterpart.

Prida shrugged, with one arm still wrapped around Nonni for support. “There’s only one way to find out.”

Noli let out a sigh. “I’ll reach out, see if anyone I know can get us out to Deep Space Seventeen…”