Harris stepped onto the bridge as the viewscreen showed a large number of vessels from the Fourth Fleet waiting for the wormhole to open.  He accepted the center chair from his XO and started checking the reports on his chair console.  A moment later, “Ensign Atega, what’s our status?”

She glanced back at him from her console, “We’re fifteenth in line, sir.  Ships are starting to line up now.”

Harris sat forward, “Mr. Prentice, let’s get ourselves where we need to be.”

The bridge grew quiet as the Excelsior II class ship lumbered into position.  A moment later, Presley spoke up, “Signal from Starfleet – once the wormhole opens up, we clear to proceed in order.”

The silence of the bridge returned as the ambient sound floated through the air, all eyes on the space that held the wormhole ahead of them.  Fowler spoke up, “Energy surge at the site of the wormhole.”

And then it opened.  It was an awesome sight as it broke forth and unfurled into the blackness of space as it quickly stabilized.  Fowler confirmed, “Lead ship confirms we have a connection.  We are underway.”

Ambrose steepled his fingers as he waited, “Yellow alert.  All hands should secure to stations just in case things get bumpy in transit.”  The soft klaxon rang throughout the ship as officers and crew shifted to secure positions.  All eyes remained forward as the fourteen other ships continued towards the wormhole.  Seconds and minutes ticked by until the ship in front of them lumbered forward and vanished into the mouth.

Prentice was counting the time they had to wait until they were clear to enter.  “5…4….3…2…1….0”

The CO gently ordered, “Get us on our way, Mr. Prentice.” The USS Mackenzie surged forward closer to the wormhole.  The bridge crew and, by extension, the crew of the ship subconsciously gripped chairs, walls, and consoles as the entry point grew closer and closer until the screen flashed and the ship was flying through the circular tube.  They all looked around and let out the breath they were holding.  Prentice reset the clock for five minutes.  Harris tapped the console on his chair, “Captain Harris to all crew – we are five minutes out from the Delta Quadrant.  Make final preparations.”

Five minutes later…

Prentice once more was counting down until they came out of the wormhole.  Harris gripped the chair as the count hit zero, and the Mackenzie flew into the Delta Quadrant for the first time.  “Mr. Prentice put us in our standby zone that we were designated.”  He turned in his chair to the science station, “Lieutenant Fowler, preliminary report?”

She scanned the screens at her station – they had found having her in the front of the bridge to be distracting and had shifted her back to the right side of the bridge with some of her team next to her as well.  Tactical Chief Kondo now sat beside Prentice at the front of the bridge.  “System maps are scanning to match up and update to the latest.  Showing all parties in this sector of space are who we expected.  We’ve started a scan for the two transport ships.”

Harris turned his chair to the left and caught Ensign Atega’s glance, her earpiece being covered by her hand.  “I’m sending out hails to the two ship’s markers.  So far, nothing. Markonian Outpost is about two hours away – I’m sure we can find out more there once we arrive.”

“Helm – plot a course for the Markonian Outpost. Maximum warp.  Engage when ready.”  He picked up his PADD and began to interface with the sensors that science was putting out.  There was a lot of data out there, and his eyes nearly glazed over.  Being so isolated, the Delta Quadrant had suddenly become a very busy space with lots of competing signals, markers, and trails.  He only hoped that once they arrived at he outpost, they’d find the answers they were seeking.

Prentice announced they were arriving at the outpost, and the Mackenzie dropped from warp.  Harris glanced up as the chief helm officer guided them toward the station.  Murmurs on the bridge as they caught sight of various ships that were arriving and in transit.  One stood out, and it made Ambrose smile, “The USS Discovery. Helluva ship.”

Okada spoke up from the engineering console, “She’s a work of art, Captain.  She’s what you call a limited edition.  Not many of those classes running around.  I’d like to take her for a runaround.”  She shrugged when Harris slowly turned in his chair to face her, “I mean…no harm in askin’, right?  Nothing ventured, nothing gained.  You can’t tell me you wouldn’t love to take a walk around that girl.”

Ambrose chuckled quietly at his chief engineer.  She was still an engineer and had a deep love for all things starship.  He knew she loved the Mackenzie, but when you got a chance to put your eyes on something like the USS Discovery – you took a moment to appreciate the work that went into something like that.  He was an engineer, but he was a Captain first.  The trials of drifting away from the engine room.  “Someday…just not in the middle of the Delta Quadrant.  Something tells me the Task Force 17’s CO and XO would take great exception to us filing that request in the middle of all…this.”

She scrunched up her nose, annoyed but understanding.  “Well, if they want to come over here, we gotta make a deal or something.”

The CO chuckled at his XO, “Chief Okada, you are singularly focused.”

Another shrug, “I just like ships, is all, captain.  Even the ugly ones.”  He went to respond but was stopped by his communications chief, Ensign Atega.

“Captain, the outpost has accepted our request to dock and has directed us to the location next to the USS Discovery.”

Harris could see Okada sit up in her chair, and he rolled his eyes, mostly to himself.  She was incorrigible, but she was his incorrigible.  “Mr. Prentice, let’s dock with the outpost.  Atega, you’re with me.”  A look of shock filled her face as she turned towards her CO.  He attempted to reassure her, “You’re my linguistics officer.  I’m going to need someone along in case I make a…language error.”  He stood, “XO, you’ve got the CONN.  See what sensors are picking up.  Ask the outpost if they are able to share specific records for specific ships that we have tracking information for – we need to know as much as they can give us on our two transport ships.”  With that, he headed to the turbolift, followed hastily by Ensign Atega.

The doors closed, and the lift moved.  She turned to him, “No security with us, sir?”

Her CO actually laughed, “You must have missed Chief Kondo leaving the bridge before us.  He’s not about to let his commanding officer step onto an outpost without some protection.  Given the rules and requirements of the station’s operation, I suspect we’ll be just fine.  It’s once we get out there in space…that’s when the concerns begin.”  They arrived shortly in the transporter room as indeed Security Chief Kondo stood, two security officers at his side.

“We’re being allowed hand phasers, so I’ve outfitted myself and my team with them.”

Harris put up his hand, “No need to arm us, Chief.  Rather find a way to get our information the simple and straightforward way.”  They all stepped aboard the pad, and the bright lights and melodious whine of the transporters took them on their way.

Markonian Outpost – 1015

Harris coughed as they stepped off the pad and muttered, “They weren’t kidding about the smell.”  They signed the documents with the dockmaster and made their way into the main section of the outpost.  They were the minority in a glorious mix of Delta Quadrant alien species that walked the halls, manned the stores, and filled the dock.  Harris glanced around, “Kondo, you take Palmiotto with you and see what you can find out.  I’ll take Atega and Webb with me.”  They split up, and Harris strolled down the promenade and soon found a shop.  He stepped up to the creature at the counter, “Good morning.”

The reptilian looked him and the two with him up and down a few times before grumbling, “Starfleet.  Always the harbingers of something.  What do you bring to the Delta Quadrant, human?”

Ambrose pulled out his PADD and set it on the pictures of his cousins and sister, “We’re trying to track down these three people.  They’re not Starfleet, but we’ve been asked to locate them out here.”

A chuckle, which came from the lizard’s head, sounded more sinister than it was probably intended.  “Them and everybody’s cousin, brother, and fool came.  And they’re still coming – the civilian ships behind you are supposed to be making their way here within the hour, I hear.”  He sighed, “You’d think I’d be thrilled to have customers.”  He gave a bow, “Cardamon is my name.”

Ambrose introduced his team and himself, “We’re just looking for information.  We can buy if we have to.”

Cardamon chuckled darkly, “Was I a younger beast, maybe?  But I’m old and tired.  No sons or daughters to run this place.  Your group did come through a month ago.”  He ambled over to his console and tapped cautiously, “They were very curious about maps and locations of things…interestingly enough, they did not ask about the Blood Dilithium.  They were looking for places that hadn’t been explored or touched recently.  Those boys were really interested in finding the unexplored.”

Harris frowned.  What were those two up to?  “And the young woman?”

What Ambrose thought was a frown passed on the face of the reptilian creature as he continued to access his console, “She was…what is the human expression?  Pissed?  Angry?  Furious?  So many of your words are confusing.  She was unhappy with the situation, and she wasn’t afraid to say it.  Repeatedly.  She thought they were going to find…what was the word she used…gold?  Yes, gold.  Apparently, the men deceived her.”  He handed Harris an isolinear chip, “Here’s what they purchased as well as the photos and videos.” The CO cocked his head to the side, and Cardamon answered, “Your last name is Harris, and so was theirs.  There are not many friendly faces in this quadrant, and most would have tried to trick or trap you.  Like I said…I am old.  I have learned that there are things beyond us here in the Delta Quadrant.  A bigger universe, perhaps.  With better neighbors.”

Harris gave him a bow, “I’ll remember this kindness, Cardamon.”  They exchanged final greetings and headed farther down.

Atega spoke up, “That was an odd experience, sir.”  He slowed and turned, a question on his face.  She pursed her lips for a moment, “He was unusually nice. Like…more than kind.  He was downright friendly.”  Harris gave her another questioning look, and she sighed, “We were warned over and over in the academy…the Delta Quadrant isn’t safe.  It’s full of folks who want to kill us.  Best case scenario, you’re going to have to pay more for what you need.  Worst case, you end up in a cold sonic shower with a kidney or two gone.”

Ambrose leaned in, “It’s entirely possible, Ensign Atega, that just as there are good humans and aliens back home…there good ones here too.”  He qualified that, “That sounded far too optimistic for the Delta Quadrant.  Maybe we just got lucky.”

They went from stall to shop to group with the photos.  The story was much the same.  A very unhappy young lady in tow with two strapping young men who were looking for everything but Blood Dilithium.  They returned to meet up with Kondo to see what he’d found.

“I spoke with Outpost operations.  Since we had the specific ship information, they were able to isolate the records regarding their arrival and departure last month.”  He tapped his PADD, and the information appeared on the others as they read.  He continued his report, “They were interested in finding isolated or unmapped systems.  Operations thinks they were trying to stay out of the main mining operations and stake their own claim.  They stayed on the station for a few days and then departed.  They tracked them as far as they were required to, and that was the last they saw of them.  No communications, no sightings, nothing.”

Harris glared at the PADD, “They took off in a direction that could have led anywhere.  Finding them is going to be an effort.  On top of that, we still have to keep an eye and ear out for anybody needing our help…and study the stuff too,”

Atega chewed on her lip, and Kondo narrowed his eyes at her.  She glared back until she couldn’t handle the intensity, “They are our secondary mission, sir.”

Ambrose turned to her, frowning and then smiling slightly, “You are correct, Ensign.  Let’s get back to the ship and at least start off in a direction.  Maybe we’ll just run right over them.”  He groused as they headed to the transporter, “…and then we’ll back up and run them over again….and again.”  Atega fought a chuckle, and Harris smiled broadly, “You have my permission to laugh at my cousins, Ensign.  I’m going to be laughing at them a lot when I find them and throw them in my brig for the rest of the month.”

Kondo looked to his CO as they stepped on the pad, “The best part of that, Captain…is that I know you are not kidding.”

Harris nodded, “I never joke about the brig.  Energize.”

“According to the records, they went away from the known planets.”  Chief Science Officer Fowler was at her station running through the data the outpost had provided them.  Captain Harris stood on one side and XO Katsumi on the other.

The CO spoke first, “So they went towards the Devore Imperium.”

She tapped the console, “They could have stopped anywhere between here and there - we have no survey information or map information about what is out there - just second and third-hand reports from the outpost's files they shared with us."

Ambrose turned and leaned on the railing, Okada joining him as he considered their next move.  “We're going to have to get out there to see what's there…and what's not, sir.”

He turned to her, “I wish they'd gone the other way.  I wish they'd been smart enough to go the safest route.  If for no other reason than my sister.”  He lightly pounded on the wood for emphasis, “But we don't get our wishes granted this time around, do we, Commander?”  She shook her head and returned to her station while he remained leaning on the railing.  

Ensign Atega spoke up from her console, “Sir, someone is at the docking area requesting to speak to you, Captain.”  She pressed the earpiece in as she asked for clarification and sat back in amusement as the name reached her ears, “Sir, it's Cardamon.”

Harris shared her amused expression, “I'll head down to the docking area.  Let 'em know to grant him access.  Have security gently hold him until I arrive.”

Docking Area - 1115

The reptilian alien stood, his hands and claws grasped nervously as he looked back and forth to the two security officers who were holding vigil over him.  He glanced up when the door opened, “Captain Harris!” he shouted as he composed himself and gave a bow.

The CO gave him a return bow, “Cardamon.  What can I do for you?”

The elder alien glanced at both security officers and then spoke, “I…mmm.  I would like to….” Harris nodded to the two to step down the hall as he moved to stand closer to Cardamon, who was doing his best to control his breathing, “I would…like to offer my services as a guide to the Delta Quadrant.”

“You have a shop on the outpost.”

“Yes.  I do.”  He found a chair in the docking area and sat down, his eyes darting across the room.  “I'm a man without a home, Captain.  My people long ago disowned me.  I was too kind.  Too…friendly.  I didn't have the edge they had in combat.  I didn't know how to fight…or have a desire.  I was weak, they said.”  He shook his head, “I didn't care - I found the outpost and started my business.  It grew, and I managed to have a life on the station away from the trouble of my home.  And far away from the rest of the quadrant.  Every time I looked for somewhere to go, there was always something there that echoed the darkness I had fled.  So I remained here.”  He looked up and met the eyes of Harris, “I know it is a lot to ask…but I want to add an additional request of you - I would like to travel to where you come from - I've read what I can about your Federation.  It sounds…it sounds like where I belong.”

Ambrose looked at him for a long moment, wondering what had just happened.  Had he managed to have first contact with a species and then be asked to grant asylum in the next breath?  Navigating this was unusual, and it was made complicated by the time and distance they had from the Federation.  He sighed and sat in the chair next to Cardamon, “You'll have to go through a background check…however that looks out here.  We'll ask for your file from the outpost…you'll have to have a medical exam.  We'll need to interview you and ask you some questions.”  He looked the reptilian in the eyes, “Your sure this is what you want?”

Cardamon nodded quietly, his eyes staying on Harris, “I have lived a hundred years, Captain Harris.  I've never been outside my homeworld or this outpost.  I want my final years to be spent doing…something to help others.”  His eyes brightened, “I'm good at helping.”  A chuckle came from his chest that sounded more like a cough to Harris, “My people are not traditionally helpers.  They would be very unhappy with me right now.”

Ambrose stood, “OK.  We'll need to clear you through the Outpost Operations.  I'll have our Chief Counselor give you an interview.  Doctor Reid will come by to do a physical.  My executive officer will probably want to talk to you.”  He motioned the two security officers to return, “I'm going to grant you guest quarters.  Once we get the procedures sorted, we can talk about giving you escort privileges to move around the ship in a limited fashion.  For now…these two will help you find where you're going to stay.  Give them anything you need or need picked up from your shop…we'll get it sorted.”

Cardamon gave him an excited bow, “Thank you, Captain Harris.”  He shook with joy as he followed the two security officers, talking energetically about everything and anything.  

Ambrose hoped Cardamon would be able to guide them in their search.  They had a month and the clock was ticking.

Juliet sat across from Cardamon, her hands holding the PADD in which she was taking her notes.  She'd offered him a drink, and he'd tried at least ten of the options eagerly and found one that fit his palette.  A gin and tonic.  Woodward was amused, and as she explained the drink to him, his eyes grew wide, and he chuckled, the sound coming across more as a cough and wheeze than anything.  “It tastes just like our morning breakfast drink at home.”

She started with her first question, “We've done a little research on our end.  What we thought was originally a first-contact situation…is actually more like a second or third.  Our computer identified you as Voth.”

He nodded, “Yes, that is what I am.  Well…was.  I know about our the space-traveling Voth brethren and their…complicated history.  When I came to the outpost, I had some catching up to do.  My descendants left them a long time ago…settled on a planet near the Devore.  We were a warrior culture when we began to grow our culture and world.  We made advances our compatriots were slower to make. We sailed the stars, fought wars with those that opposed us…we were battle-tested because we wanted to be.”  He gestured to her, “But I chose differently.  I left them 75 years ago.  Found my way to the outpost.”

Woodward tapped in notes, “You expressed to Captain Harris your interest in joining the Federation and traveling to the Alpha Quadrant.  Why?”

He explained what he had shared with the captain.  “I do not feel like I belong here anymore, Lieutenant.”  He let out a labored sigh, “I have been thinking a lot about it since your captain came to my store.  I started to wonder what home meant to me.  It made me angry to think that I didn't have a place to call home.”

Juliet ventured, “The station is not your home?”

A grumble that sounded more like a growl escaped his lips, “That is what made me angry.  I thought of it as my home for so long…but I realized I had no friends here, no family…nobody that I had made connections with…or knew really at all.  You never realize how alone you can be until suddenly the sun shines into your little world after decades in the darkness.”

She looked at the Voth with new eyes.  There was an unusual depth to his words and the way he held himself.  He was old, this was true.  Yet there was an argument for softer hearts, even among the warriors.  What would have been if he turned his heart and soul over to the violence bathed in blood that marked his people?  Would he even have ended up at the outpost?  Or would they have eventually run into him out in the black, weapons hot and ready to fire?  “I believe you, Cardamon.  I'll file my report.  I hope you find what you're looking for - be it with us or wherever it leads you in the end.”

They exchanged bows and she left.  He took a deep breath and let it rattle around his chest before exhaling.  There was a part of him that wondered if this was the right thing to do.  Why leave a perfectly good job on a busy outpost in the Delta Quadrant?  His safety was mostly assured - no one dared spoil the peace that existed in and around it.  Perhaps that was the true struggle - that it was far too safe for him.  That he needed some adventure in his life…some excitement.  He sipped at the gin and tonic, a contented smile filling his face.  He may have just found a home.

“He’s perfectly healthy.  Given what we know about his species, there’s nothing different that can’t be explained through his statements that they broke from the original group a long time ago and went about forming their own civilization.”  Jordan Reid handed the PADD with her report on it to the XO, Okada Katsumi who read through it as Jordan explained further, “I know we have to check the boxes to make sure we’re not dealing with some kind of double agent or something…but every indication of him being who he says he is coming up good.  Juliet gave him a clear report.  It’s just down to you and me.”

Katsumi looked over the PADD and then to the Voth laying on the biobed as the computer continued its scanning process at various levels and intensities, “There are moments where I wish I’d studied harder for command.  Sometimes I just know what to do as an XO and there are moments where I just pants my way through it all.”  She stifled a laugh when Reid gave her a look of concern and confusion, “It’s an expression based on ‘flying by the seat of your pants’ but instead of saying the whole thing you just say…”

Reid groaned, “Pants.  You were definitely an engineer on Bravo for too long, Okada.” An impish smile was the answer as Reid continued to read the results as they came into the PADD.  “For being 100 years old, he’s pretty healthy by Voth standards…although we don’t know enough about them to know how long they live.”  She shook her head, “He could easily live another hundred with this kind of health.”

The XO marveled, “He’ll outlive me, probably.  They say the universe is full of strange new worlds.  The Delta Quadrant does not disappoint.  I’ll chat with him…see if I can find anything else to add to my report.”  She stepped out of the office and waltzed over to the bed and jumped up on the bed next to Cardamon.  

He blinked.  “The Doctor told me not to move. So I must stare at the ceiling.  What can I answer, Commander?”

“You live a long time.”

He resisted the urge to frown as it would have been excessive movement together with looking like he wanted to eat someone.  “Our group of Voth lives to two hundred or so.  I’ve been away for so long…maybe the practices they practice are what keep them living longer.  Maybe my separation will bring me to the end sooner.”

Okada was curious, “Do you fear death, Cardamon?”

He was quiet for a moment before he spoke, “I’ve studied some of what others in the Delta Quadrant believe about death.  I know what the Voth believe…but I’ve started to wonder if we’re wrong…or if we’re right.  It is a difficult thing to try and examine in such a modern age.  The faiths and religions of old are often able to be explained away by discoveries and more.”  He grunted, “The truth about the Voth – that much I do know.  We came from your dinosaurs on Earth.  Caused quite a stir with my cousins in space.  Perhaps that is why I cannot answer your question clearly.  Because I do not know if I fear it.  Maybe that’s the way to live longer – thinking less about death and more about life and living as long as you can each day.”

The XO chuckled dryly, “You’re a very philosophical guy, Cardamon.”

His thought about the word, “It means my brain is big, yes?”

She actually chuckled, “Well, that debate has been raging for centuries and galaxies, so we’ll just say sure for now.”

Jordan stepped out of the office and walked up to the other side of the Voth, “You can it up now.  Your scans show nothing unusual.  Your labs came back clear.  Neurological tests showed you are well within acceptable response and capacity requirements. As far as I can tell, you’re perfectly healthy.”

He sat on the biobed facing Okada, “Do you fear death, Commander?”

She winced at the question but decided to try and answer it, “Fair is fair.  I have found so much joy in living my life and discovering things about myself, the world, space, people, aliens…I never want this journey to end.  I always want to be able to seek out, search for, and learn from everything that exists out there.  The sadness is in the reality that death comes for us all – no matter how long we live or find ways to extend our lives.  we eventually will take the next step in the process.”  She sighed, “I don’t fear it…as much as I don’t want it.  I’d prefer to just go on living.  But I’m not in control of it.  Nobody chooses when.”

Cardamon nodded quietly, “You have given me…what do you humans say…some ‘heady’ things to think about.  Thank you for your kindness.  These men are going take me back to my quarters.  I’ve tried half of the food menu so far…looking forward to finding out more of my favorites.”

Soon it was just Reid and the XO.  Reid spoke first, “You have to wonder…if Cardamon is such a big difference from his people…they must be a terrifying group of warriors.  As nice as he is…swing that pendulum the other way and that picture scares me a little.”

Katsumi was still resting her mind in their conversation.  She resolved, “We’re going to have to keep him secret if we ever run into his original group of Voth.  I don’t think they’d allow him to call us home for very long.”

Reid tapped at her PADD, “I’ll include that in my report to Captain Harris.  For what it’s worth, I agree with you.  He’s signed up to help us…and we need to make sure we hold up our end of the bargain.”  Okada gave her farewells as she headed back to the bridge.  Jordan returned to her office, reviewing the records of the Voth.  She hoped they could avoid any of them as they flung themselves deeper into the Delta Quadrant.

Harris had read the reports on Cardamon and had conferred upon him limited freedom on the Mackenzie.  He had shifted the security team away from him and asked Ensign Atega to find a protocol officer to assist the Voth when he left his quarters.  The captain had briefed the department heads, and they had briefed their teams.  He stood next to Lieutenant Fowler’s science station, glancing at the PADD in his hand as she worked the sensors further to identify a path on which they could begin their search.  She ran down what she had, “There’s a few systems on the way that we have confirmed intel on.  Hazari, a K-Class planet. Home to where the Hazari originated from – it’s unknown if they still call the place home.”  She tapped through the screens, “Kadi is also on the way, but they are very religious and are ritualistic to a fault.  I doubt our friends visited them.  If they did, they would have deeply offended them.”  Another tap, “There’s Ankari, and they’re maybe our best bet at getting information without pushing a button we didn’t know about.”

Harris read through the background of each species, “I’ve been re-reading the Voyagers logs recently…it leaves you in awe of what they did to keep pushing to find a way home.  It’s also a massive help to us in figuring out who to talk to and who to stay away from as much as possible.  Prentice, let’s set a course for Kadi and see what they can tell us about our friends.  Have a secondary course set in for Ankari, and no course for the Hazari.  Engage when ready.”

Kadi – 1600

=^=The group you describe did attempt to spend time here, but they violated many of our standards and practices…and they were asked to leave.  We had to be far firmer with them than we’ve had to be with humans in the past.  The young woman that was with them…she was nearly convinced to stay and join our order, but she returned to them.=^=

Harris sat in the command chair.  They’d arrived at the planet and immediately been hailed by the planet and attracted the attention of several patrol ships in orbit.  “When did they come through?”

The man thought for a moment and consulted his console, =^=A month ago, in your Earth measurements.  They wanted to know more about what was out there beyond us.  We were less inclined to give them anything after they attempted to flirt with our women.  That was just one of the offenses.=^=

Ambrose was tempted to ask for the list, but he had a feeling they would be there for some time so that list could be read in its entirety.  “Ambassador Tomin, I offer my apologies for their behavior and actions.  They will be punished for their actions here, I assure you.”

The ambassador narrowed his eyes, =^=See that you do.  We are aware of the recent opening of the wormhole and what it has brought upon the Delta Quadrant.  We are content with our ways and do not wish to have to be bothered by such…fools.=^=

The CO gave a brief nod, “You have my word, Ambassador.  Thank you for your time.”  The man nodded, and the channel closed as he growled, “They’re making friends and influencing people in all the wrong ways.  Fowler, anything?”

At the science station, Sadie turned to face her commanding officer, “Very faint traces of their warp signature.  I can approximate that they were headed to Ankari.”

“Then let’s keep on the trail.  Mr. Prentice, engage!”

Ankari – 1700

=^=They tried to steal one of our summoning beacons!  They didn’t even ask nicely!  They just jumped in and tried to take it by force.  We’ve been down this road before, so we were ready.  They were not expecting us to fight back.=^=

Ambrose kept his composure as the lead ambassador for the Ankari stared at him, still furious a month later.  “I offer my apologies for….”

=^=They can be the ones who apologize.  You may be blood-related to them, but they are the ones who took action against us…and they can speak for themselves when you find them.=^=

The captain gave an accepting nod, “We will make every effort to bring them to heel and apologize.  You said they were here four weeks ago?”

=^=Yes.  Five hours.  You’ve read the files on the Equinox and the Voyager?=^=

Harris had.  It had been a brutal read from start to finish.  “Equinox was not our finest hour.”

=^=You humans have a saying…’understatement of the year’ or something like that.  It applies here.=^=

The CO tried to bring them back to focus, “Is there anything you can tell us about where they were headed or what they wanted?”

The Ankari appeared to be speaking to someone off-screen before returning his attention to Harris, =^=They seemed interested in the small amount of space between the Chaotic Space and the Malon Cooperative.  We attempted to warn them about…well, everything in that area…but they were…what is the human word…suffering from an enlarged case of hubris.  They believed they could defeat anything that came their way.=^=

Ambrose wasn’t surprised.  “We’ll do our best to track them down.  We appreciate your sharing what you could.”

=^=When you catch up with them, give them a message from the Ankari.  If they return to us, we will kill them.  Nobody threatens us in the ways they did and gets a second chance to offend us.=^=

The channel closed, and he let out a long sigh as he turned in his chair to face his XO, “I don’t suppose we should risk a visit to Hazari or try to find someone there to talk to?”

Okada shook her head with great intent, “Sir, if they pissed off these two groups, I can only imagine the trail of fury we’re going to be trying to put back together.  The Hazari may view you as proper bounty for payment for whatever they did to them.”

Harris couldn’t disagree with her, “They have a unique talent, these boys.  They push every button, stretch every nerve…and push you to the edge of your sanity.  You do that in the Alpha Quadrant; people generally don’t kill you for it.”  He nodded to the screen, “Here in the Delta Quadrant…well, killing is the last step in the pain-filled and vengeful process these folks have on their mind.  Mr. Prentice, set us a course for the space between Chaotic Space and the Malon Cooperative.  Sound yellow alert…just in case.”  He turned to Fowler, “Let’s start seeing if we can track them as we go, Lieutenant.”

The bridge was silent as the Mackenzie dropped out of warp near the Chaotic Space and the Malon Cooperative.  The dull yellow lights bathed the bridge in an unsettling theme as Lieutenant Fowler went to work on scanning the area.  It was past the Chaotic Space that the Borg Collective was free to move.  The barrier that prevented the wormhole and the planets around it no longer existed past a certain point.  They were standing on the edge of that cliff, looking down into the haunted darkness.  It didn’t help that the Devore were also on the other side of the cliff, probably watching from the cover of a star or two.

The science chief was working with her team, “Captain – we’re detecting faint trails of their warp signatures…but we’re also getting more recent traffic from it as well.  We’re approximating in the last two weeks, sir.”  She worked her console and shook her head, “Scratch that; the recent signatures are only for one of the transport ships.  The other was not detected recently.”

Harris stared at the screen.  What did it mean?

A jarring alert sounded from the communications station as she reported, “Captain, I’m receiving a distress call.  The signal is…unknown.  They are reportedly under threat from the Devore Imperium and are fleeing the area.  Sensors are spotty at best, but it appears they have left Imperium territory.”

Ambrose glanced at Okada, “Get Cardamon to the bridge.  We’re going to need his counsel.”  She headed for the turbolift as the CO returned his eyes to the view screen, “Helm, put us on an intercept course, maximum warp.”  The Mackenzie was in motion as he turned his attention back to Fowler, “How good are those maps and coordinates?”

She was already examing the boundary lines, “Compared to back home, sir?  It’s taken us many years to define what is and what isn’t Federation space… we haven’t had that long out here.  We’re relying on some pretty, pardon the expression, sketchy reports of the borders.  Given that the Devore doesn’t have a presence on the outpost or really keep in regular contact…they may have moved their borders and not told anyone.”

The turbolift doors opened, and the Voth advisor stepped gingerly into the room, his eyes open wide in wonder as he looked from officer to console to officer to console and back again.  He turned to Harris, “This…is a bridge!  What beautiful lines… colors, lighting…I’ve never stepped foot in a place like this.”

The CO gave a quiet smile, “Thank you, Cardamon.  We have a pressing question for you.”  He gestured him over to Fowler’s station.  He gave her a bow and attempted a smile.  Harris had warned the bridge crew a smile would probably look like he was sizing them up for dinner or brunch.  He assured the crew they would not be eaten.  Fowler returned the bow from her chair and returned the smile as best as she could.  She walked him through the situation, the positioning, and what she knew.

He shook his head vigorously, “The borders of the Imperium may have once been that, but they have been pushing for more and more.”  He pulled out a computer device and tapped his claws on it bluntly, and showed it to the science chief, “I collected information as a hobby from my store.  Every so often, someone would let slip a planet or system that had fallen to them.”  He pointed to the screen, “This is where I estimate they have grown.” 

Fowler squinted at the small screen and then back to hers, entering in a few adjustments.  She spent a few minutes doing this to ensure she’d estimated what was on the Voth’s screen and translated it to their map records.  She tapped the console and updated the map.  Cardamon swore in his native tongue and then covered his snout with a look of apology, which looked like he was genuinely sorry.  Sometimes even alien faces could show regret.  Harris sighed, “They’ve pushed those borders pretty damn close to us.  How about the distress call?”

Sadie centered the sensor readings and compared them to the new map, “Adjusting…they are still flying through Imporium space still.  It’ll take them ten more minutes to get clear.”

The CO stared at the screen, “How close would we need to be for transporter range?”  Could we…transport across the border?”

She gave him a curious look and adjusted her calculations, “Technically…yes.”

Okada spoke up from her station, “My favorite word.  I’ll head to transporter room one and find some of that famous technical wiggle room.”

A glance at his tactical chief, “Mr. Kondo – are they being pursued?”

De La Fontaine had been keeping his watchful eyes on the situation.  He knew the Mackenzie packed a punch, but he wasn’t sure how they’d fare against the Imperium if they had to take the fight to them.  “Sensors don’t show any ships in the vicinity.  I would have expected there to be a significant military presence in this sector to defend its borders, but I am not detecting any serious traffic in the sector.”

Cardamon looked alarmed, “Your Mr. Kondo is correct in his questions, Captain.  They would be protecting their borders, and there would be no doubt where the line was.”

Prentice spoke up, “Approaching the updated border.  Dropping from from warp.”

Ambrose stared at the screen, “Distance to the ship in distress?”  He turned to Fowler.

“5 minutes from the border.  Nobody in pursuit.  Working on getting more from the ship.”

Kondo worked his console and wondered aloud, “Why is this so easy?”  He caught the eye of Harris and explained, “The Devore isn’t just a boogeyman of the Delta Quadrant.  To be fair, there are a lot of boogeymen out here.  The point is the Devore are the origin story that created the boogeyman.  They’ve proven time and time again to be ruthless, powerful, and dedicated to their mission.”  He glanced at his console and then at the screen, “Something is off here, sir.”

The CO agreed with him, “Harris to Chief Okada – we’re starting to feel a little weird about this situation.  I’m sending Kondo and a team to you.”  She confirmed and closed the channel.  He turned to the crew, “Let’s not let them know we know what’s going on.  Ensign Atega, hail them, and confirm we stand ready to transport them aboard once they are within range.”  He turned to Cardamon, “Anything else you can tell me?”

The Voth kept staring at the screen until he was able to speak once more, “They are the darkness, Captain.  The Imperium…it is not a matter of trusting or understanding…it is a matter of being ready for them with whatever you have to defend yourself…or you will bow down.”

Harris believed him.

Transporter Room 1 – 1830

Kondo stood with four other security officers, armed and ready.  Reid leaned against the wall with a medical team.  The word from the bridge had come that they were nearly in range.  A moment later, the call came.  They were energizing the first ten survivors.

Nothing happened.  Kondo quickly moved to the transporter console, “Well, they are tricky.”  He tapped his badge, “Chief Kondo to Captain…”

=^=They bypassed our protocols.  They were transported to different parts of the ship. We’re locking down the bridge and engineering.  Get your people moving.”

They didn’t even need him to speak. They quickly took off as he tapped at his badge, “Chief Kondo calling a security alert.  All security and tactical officers to sweeping stations Alpha, set to stun.  All hands secure stations and locations with lock-out protocols.”  The heavy klaxons rang as the ship went to full alert, and De La Fontaine started his hunt.

Harris had stood from his chair while his operations chief, Calog Tir secured the bridge.  Another moment for him to lock out all consoles and require further authentication.  Fowler was quickly working on the internal sensors.  “Mr. Prentice - full reverse.  Let's get far enough away from the ship and the border.  How many left on their ship?”

Sadie answered as she worked furiously, “They transported all twenty.  The ship is empty and I'm showing it is powered down.”

Harris growled, “Well, we can add intent to the list.”

Atega spoke from her station, “Security has detained five of them outside engineering and is escorting them to the brig.  They've got devices implanted that are preventing us from locking on to them with transporters.”

Ambrose moved to Fowler's station, “Down to fifteen.”

She ran her hands across the console, “Five of them are approaching the battle bridge.”

Harris turned to Tir who belatedly realized they had a battle bridge, “Locking down the…damn.  They got in.  I can lock the consoles out, but they'll have access to some of the manual controls for saucer separation.”

The CO asked the obvious question, “What do you mean…some of the manual controls?”

Tir was working on that as he spoke, “With the manual controls they can initiate a saucer separation…but without console control they won't be able to fly it.  Also, there are additional manual controls you have to activate on the decks where the separation occurs - otherwise, the computer will put a halt to it.”

Ambrose glanced at Prentice, “Full stop.”  He returned his attention to his operations chief, “I'm guessing because we haven't tested the saucer separation we're not familiar with its operation in the first place.” A nod was his answer.  “Also, and hindsight being what it is, if we had run the separation drills we would have discovered the manual controls and identified additional layers needed to ensure that gap got closed.”  Another nod.  “The good news is they can start it, they just can't finish it.  Can you lock them in the battle bridge?” A final nod. “Do it.”  The ship suddenly shuddered under them as klaxons began to ring out.  Harris gave Tir a long look, “Report.”

Tir shook his head, “They shouldn't be able to do it, sir, but they are activating the separation both on the console and at the locations.  We've got a serious problem.”

Harris nearly swore on his own bridge but held it, “Redirect Kondo to the battle bridge.  Tir, we need control of the battle bridge.”  He walked to where the chief of ops sat, “How?”

Calog worked as his symbiont, Tir, raged inside his head about killing these invaders.  “I think they have someone with them sir…yes…they've got a hostage.  God knows what they've threatened them with.”

Harris returned to his chair and tapped the arm console, “Captain Harris to Battle Bridge.  Respond, please.” An eery silence fell until…

=^=You are in violation of Devore Space Captain.  Surrender your ship.  We have control of your battle bridge and have tagged your officer to prevent you from beaming him out.  Now, we have stalled the separation because we have your attention.=^=

Ambrose muted the channel and faced Calog at ops, “Tell me Chief Kondo is at the door.”  

His operations chief nodded and tapped at his console, “Security is at both doors.  We've disabled the battle bridge's sensors so they can't see what's coming.”

He tapped the channel open, “You've boarded us without proper notification, you've taken hostile action with our crew, and you have attempted to steal a part of this ship.  You have my attention, but I'm not sure you're going to like how I respond.”  Harris motioned to Tir and there was a surprised shout on the other end as the doors to the battle bridge rumbled open and suddenly the channel was filled with phaser fire as orders and shouts echoed from the open channel on the bridge.  A moment later the voice of Chief Kondo came over the speakers, “Five apprehended.  They are on their way to the brig.  We're down to ten, Captain.  We'll secure the saucer from separation."

Ambrose moved back to Fowler's station, “Where are they?”

She pointed to her console screen, “Five are at the turbolift here, and the other five are attempting to break into the main shuttle bay.  Security is moving on the shuttle bay situation.”  She worked her console and updated, “Those at the turbolift are attempting to override it to get to the bridge.”

Calog turned to his station, “They're using some kind of…I don't know what this is.  XO?”

Okada was already on her way to stand behind him as she watched both the video feed and the real-time computer monitoring, “That is not a rudimentary device.  That's a pretty high level…the best word I have is hacking?  They're trying to bypass the locks and the computer control systems.”

Harris glanced at the two of them, “Do they have a chance at getting up here?” In answer to his question, the turbolift doors on the screen opened and the five of them piled in.  They were all armed.  Okada reported, “Chances are high, sir.”

Okada moved to a wall unit and Harris followed her lead.  Entering their command codes the wall slid open, revealing a storage locker of phasers and phaser rifles.  Each of them took their own and then quickly tossed them to the others on the bridge.  The clock was ticking on the turbolift.  Harris spoke quickly, “Find some cover, take it, and don't hesitate to open fire.  Set to stun and only stun.”  He took cover behind his chair as the rest of them found corners and consoles.

Within seconds the turbolift door opened and blaster fire peppered the bridge as the crew returned fire as curses and anger filtered out of the turbolift.  Two bodies hit the floor as the three remaining attempted to rush the bridge.  The confusion didn't help them the way they hoped it would.  Each was hit by a volley of phasers from all corners of the bridge.  Silence, smoke, and klaxons filled the bridge.  Harris stood first and gestured for the bodies to be checked at gunpoint.  A moment later they had been restrained and the weapons were back in their closets.  Reid appeared shortly on the bridge, looking a bit disheveled with Kondo at her side.

“What the hell?”

Harris gestured to the prone bodies that Kondo and his men began to drag away, “The Davore Imperium.  I'm not sure what their motive was but they failed.”

Cardamon spoke up from the corner of the bridge by the viewscreen where he had taken cover, “Captain…I…” He inched forward and found the railing to lean on.  Reid quickly checked on him. He'd been shot.  She looked to Harris and he waved her on.  The Voth held up a clawed hand, “I am…ok but not ok…I wanted to tell you - they never fail.  I suspect this was an attempt to test your defenses…to see what you were capable of and how you would respond.  The Devore Imperium does not make mistakes, Captain.  You will not want to hold these men for long.”  Reid supported him and escorted him to the turbolift.

Ambrose accepted the PADD from Kondo, “All twenty accounted for?”

“Given this scenario…we are going to have be on our guard far more than we have ever been in our travels, Captain.  I will work with science and engineering to discover how they evaded our protocols and address it quickly.  I agree with Mr. Cardamon.  The longer we hold onto these men, the more we will be seen as holding prisoners - no matter how we acquired them in the first place.  We've removed the technology that prevents them from being transported.  I recommend putting them back on their ship and sending them back across the border.”

Harris looked to Okada, his XO.  “I don't know how they did it.  I'm more than a little annoyed that they almost took my girl apart into pieces.  If this is what they can do to us without warning, I'm going to need to do some work to make sure we're ready for the next time.”

“Who was our hostage?”

Katsumi's face took on a painful look, “My assistant chief.  They caught her outside engineering.  Saw the color of the uniform.  They hurt her pretty badly, Captain.  Shot up her arms and legs with disrupters…played ball with her face.  She's in sickbay now…but she won't be back on duty for a bit.”

Harris felt the bile rise in his throat, “Bastards.”

She gave a terse nod and stepped into the turbolift.  He turned to the rest of the room.  The Delta Quadrant was proving just how much harder it was going to be.

They’d pulled back from the expanded Devore Imperium borders.  Harris sat in his command chair, running through the reports from the attempted takeover of the USS Mackenzie.  They’d put the unconscious twenty back on their ship and sent it slowly flying back into Devore space.  They’d kept an eye on the area as they’d left, and the farther they got, the more readings they picked up on ships coming to the border to hold positions.  Okada had worked hard with her team to ensure that the saucer separation was reversed completely.

“Captain, I have an updated report.” Sadie Fowler called out from her station.  He stood and soon stood beside her as she ran down what she had found, “The transport ship that was detected recently is the Aerie Class SS Loch.  The readings for the Sydney Class SS Jeremiah are not as recent.  The Loch appears to have entered Devore space about a week ago.  We tracked it as best as we could, and as far as my team can tell – the Loch has not returned.”

Harris narrowed his eyes as he tracked the readings, “Anything you can tell from the warp trail?”  

Fowler turned towards the Chief Engineering Officer, who sat a few seats down from her on the bridge, “Chief Okada had some theories.”  

Katsumi gave a nod as the CO sat down next to her, “I do have some interesting information.”  Her face told the story that her heart was feeling.  Her assistant chief had been beaten and tortured by the Devore invaders as a means to get the saucer separation underway.  Lieutenant Moore remained in intensive care in sickbay.

Ambrose leaned in, “I can get the information myself, Chief…if you need some time.”  He returned the weak smile she had given him, “I’m a former chief myself.”  Okada stared ahead, her hands hovering above the console, slightly shaking.

“Can…can I talk to you in your ready room, sir?”  He led her through the door at the back of the bridge.

As the door closed, he tapped the console enabling soundproofing of the room.  He guided her to the couch, where she sat, shaking her head over and over again.  She didn’t move or speak for a long while.  Then she blinked and turned her gaze to him.  “God Fucking Damn Them.”  She repeated it a little louder and kicked the coffee table gently at first and then started pounding on it with her heels until her tears flowed freely, and she accepted a box of tissues from her CO.  “Pieces of shit.  Just…absolute garbage creatures.  To do that to Greer…just…why would you do that to someone?  How…fucking depraved do you have to be to have that in your heart…or hearts…I don’t know the physiology of the dickhead Devore.” She sobbed into her hands, “I just promoted her…and her reward is to get abused by careless cowards.  Damn, damn….damn.”  Harris shifted, so his shoulder touched hers, and she slowly looked up, her face stricken by the grief of a friend and a commanding officer.  “Why do we have to keep feeling this, Captain?  Why is this necessary?  I hate this…hole in my stomach.  It’s like the wound from the Eddie isn’t healed.”  She leaned into him, and he held her gently.

The door opened, and Lieutenant Juliet Woodward stepped in and made her way to sit on the other side of Okada, who wailed, “Oh, Juliet…” and shifted from Harris to the Chief Counselor.  Woodward held the XO in her arms as her cries continued, the sobbing shaking her body as the cycle of grief became a weight on her soul.  Harris stood and gave a nod of thanks to Lieutenant Woodward as he returned to the bridge.

“Katsumi…I’m so sorry.”  Okada continued to cry, letting out the pent-up emotions she thought she had processed and reconciled months ago.  A few moments later, she shifted up to the sitting position, her face flushed from the tears.

“Goddamn feelings.”  She looked heavenward, “To be a Vulcan…or an Android.  So much simpler.”

Woodward chuckled lightly, “I dunno about that Vulcan wish.  I’ve done my time and work with those folks, and as much as they work on controlling those pesky emotions – they ain’t all that and a side of beans. They spend months…years…entire lifetimes getting control of their feelings.  It’s a whole thing that’ll make your head spin and hurt.”  She poked her friend and superior officer, “As for being an android – something is missing from those creations that makes us different.”

Okada let out a long sigh, “It doesn’t heal, does it?”

Juliet stood and grabbed two cups of herbal tea from the replicator and handed one to the XO, “Healing…isn’t the right word.  You heal from a broken bone, but you sometimes carry the scar from it.  It’s the same with emotions.  Given time, counseling, and good ol’ fashioned processing – you can find a place where you can handle the reminders of grief…and the emptiness that that person or persons left.  When you’re constantly finding yourself revisiting that trauma in a similar way…the bandaids often aren’t good enough to hold back the pain.  You lost fifty of your friends.  That doesn’t just heal overnight…or even after a year.  It takes time.  That’s the part that sucks.  There’s not a lot of spare time right now.”

Katsumi grumbled, “God damn Delta Quadrant.”

Woodward raised her mug, “I second that motion.  Place is nothing but trouble.”  She leaned back in the couch and turned to her friend and patient, “You really like Greer, don’t you.”

A soft chuckle, “She’s crazy like me.  We talk about specifications as if we’re speaking an entirely different language.  She’s an engineer, through and through.  She was so happy to be promoted to Assistant Chief…her smile was so big.”  She took a long drink of her tea, appreciating the honey that had been added.  “I might need you to come down and work with my team…I’m clearly a wreck…but some of those folks went to the academy with her.  They’d follow that girl anywhere.  Part of why I chose her.”

Juliet got a refill for both of them and returned to the couch, “I haven’t gotten a chance to sit down and talk with Lieutenant Moore.  Tell me more about her.”

Katsumi sat back, and felt a smile return as she began to tell the counselor about her assistant chief engineer.

Sadie Fowler sat hunched over her station as she calibrated the sensors, each time looking for something else, something new or something different. Trying to track the transport ships had become her burden, and the initial intrigue at searching the trail for clues had turned to frustration and a little anger flickering at the edges of her nerves.  They had nearly been taken over by Devore hours previous, and they’d discovered it had been a plot to test their defenses.  They knew at least one of the Harris ships had made it into Devore territory, and the game was now to find the other in hopes that maybe they’d find out just what the hell was the reason they’d flown all the way out here in the first place.

Her fingers tapped at the various controls on her console, fine-tuning the sensors as she flipped between short and long-range sensors.  The results were maddingly close.  If they’d arrived a week earlier, the warp trail deterioration rates wouldn’t have been making her job as hard it was.  Another round of directing the sensors and another round of working through the data with her team until a flash of green appeared on her screen.  She rechecked and then had one of her team review it to make sure.  It was confirmed.

“Captain, I have something on the SS Jeremiah.”  He stood behind her in moments as she reviews what they had found, “They didn’t go with the other ship into Devore space.  What it looks like is they turned around and headed back towards….”

Harris read the map and sighed, “Hazari.”

Another flash of reports as she worked, “As far as we can approximate, they headed towards Hazari.  Once near, we lose the signal…but there is additional traffic that starts to follow them toward the planet.  So either they were escorted….”

The CO sat roughly in the chair next to her, “Or they were being hunted.  The Sydney class is an old model of transport.  They weren’t built for running and gunning.  They also probably didn’t have the new sensor systems installed since they pulled it out of storage when they took her.  Looks like we’re going to have to meet with the Hazari after all.”  He studied the screens for a moment, “We’re no good not rested.  I’ll have Prentice put us in orbit around Kadi with their permission.  You are ordered to get some rest, Chief Fowler.  Tomorrow we’re going to face off against another unfriendly group, and I don’t think coffee alone is going to make us all agreeable without some good rest.”

She accepted the order and finished the work at her station while Harris went to the command chair and sent out the orders for shift changes and rest requirements.  Which meant…”Computer, activate the Emergency Command Hologram.”

The image of Rachel McKee finessed into view, “Please state the nature…oh, it is night shift, correct?”

Ambrose nodded and handed her a PADD, “Prentice will get us in orbit of Kadi.  We’ll be back on duty at 0700 tomorrow.  Have the science teams work on scanning Hazari space to determine the background for us.  Wake me up if needed.”

She cocked her head, “Protocol is I must wake the XO first.”

“Yes.  Tonight I am asking you to amend protocol for the next 12 hours…and make me your first call.”

A thoughtful pause from the ECH, and then, “Protocol has been amended for 12 hours.  Good night, Captain Harris. I have the CONN.” As he headed for the turbolift doors, she asked, “With a ship this size, you would not be remiss in assigning a full lieutenant commander to run the Gamma Shift.”

Harris held the turbolift doors for a moment, “You are correct, Lieutenant Commander.  Call it nostalgia, call it what you will…but for now, having you is a comfort – all of McKee is in you, and she was a strong officer.  I trusted her.  I need to trust whoever sits in that chair.  For now, that is you.”

The faux McKee gave a nod and returned to the command chair.  The doors closed on Harris, and he let out the shakey breath he had been holding.  He knew he’d have to replace her eventually.

He just wasn’t quite ready to let McKee go.

Harris sat in his quarters, coffee in one hand and a PADD in the other.  Jordan was already headed to sickbay to do rounds with her Assistant Chief.  The reports from the overnight were thankfully light.  They’d managed to map most of Hazari space but were no closer to figuring out where the SS Jeremiah had ended up.  There were notes suggesting that the Hazari may have found ways to cover up the rest of the trail, as they could have taken possession of the transport ship.

It was a lot.  He reflected on Captain Fontana’s confidence in him after they had experienced command together on the Eddie.  He held onto that confidence as he headed for sickbay.

Sickbay – 0645

“Captain….Harris.”  Lieutenant Greer Moore lay in an intensive care bed as Jordan Reid stood near monitoring her vitals.  Ambrose had pulled up a stool to her bedside.  She shifted her head, wincing as the pain scratched at her nerves, “I…am sorry for what….”

He held up his hand, “Lieutenant Moore.  You were under extraordinary circumstances.  What matters is you’re still with us.  I’m the one who should be saying sorry for what happened to you.”

Greer closed her eyes, “I didn’t think I would live, Captain.  They hurt every part of me.  I don’t remember much.  Just…screaming.  They didn’t care.  They just wanted to do what they wanted to do with the Mack.” He put his hand on hers, and she gripped lightly in return, “I want to stay on the Mack, Captain.  I don’t want to leave this place.”

Ambrose assured her, “No one’s going to transfer you, Assistant Chief.  You’re where you’re supposed to be.  We’ll get you healed up and back on duty as soon as we can.”

She smiled wanly, wincing at the pain, but the small smile remained, “Thank you, Captain.  I should rest.  Doc Reid seems to think I need some.”  Closing her eyes, Moore faded to sleep.  

Harris stood and walked to the end of the bed where Reid stood, PADD in hand, “Update me as needed, Chief Reid.”  A nod, and he was off to the bridge.  The Hazari awaited.

Bridge – 0700

“We’ve got a pretty good idea of where they’re situated, but it’s going to be a hit or miss.  Prentice will have his hands on immediate courses out of the area with warp speed.”  Okada looked better after a night of rest, and she quietly thanked him for yesterday.  “I’d recommend red alert only because we’ve had disappointment around every corner in the Delta Quadrant.”

Harris accepted the PADD, “Not a bad idea.”  Cardamon sat in the right-hand chair, reading a PADD of his own.  Reid had treated his disrupter wound, and he’d insisted he is able to back on the bridge the next day.  Okada shared that he’d been unusually quiet since arriving on the bridge a half hour ago.  He sat in his chair and turned to the Voth, “Good morning, Cardamon.”

He stared at the PADD for a moment and then looked at him.  Ambrose wasn’t sure how to interpret how the Voth looked like, but tired as a possible interpretation.  Cardamon gave him a bow from the chair, “Good morning, Captain.”  He seemed to be looking for words, his claws nervously playing with the PADD.  “I am…feeling… philosophical about the events of last night.” Okada moved over and leaned on the railing behind the Voth as he continued, “I was shot twice…and it hurt like,” he searched for the right word, “it is a Voth word…it means…a great awakening of pain and suffering with a realization of life and death.”  He turned to the XO, “Our language is complex.  If I said it to a fellow Voth, they could immediately tell me about a time when they had that kind of a moment.”  There was a brief sadness that passed across his face before he continued, “So that is what I am feeling.”

Ambrose leaned over, “We have similar words and experiences.  We would say ‘our life flashed before our eyes’ as if we relived our entire life at that moment.”  He nodded to Okada, “We could both tell you of those experiences and how it felt…but the important piece is that you find a way through those feelings to the other side.”

Cardamon sat back, thoughtful.  “You’ve given me something to contemplate, Captain.  Thank you.”  His attention returned to the PADD as he went silent once more.  Behind him, Okada shrugged and returned to her station.

Harris turned his chair forward, “Mr. Prentice, set course for Hazari space and engage.  Yellow alert.”  The lights and klaxons clicked over to signal the shields going up, and the alert status changed.  Cardamon glanced up nervously, even though he had been warned.  He studied the lights as they changed and muttered something in Voth as he viewed the bridge in its new color scheme.  The Mackenzie was in motion as the warp field played across the screen in front of them.

Their communication chief spoke up, “Captain, I’m picking up transmissions from Hazari ships.  Working on translating and identifying.”  Okada shifted from her console to one next to Atega, her eyes searching the screens for patterns.

Kondo announced, “Picking up multiple contacts, mostly small attack vessels.  Approaching the interception point…now.  Dropping from warp.” The screen slowed and showed open space and a planet in the distance.  The tactical chief confirmed, “We have four vessels approaching, armed with shields raised.  Confirmed Hazari design.”

The CO turned in his chair to Atega, “Open hailing frequencies.”  The whistling sound trilled, and he leaned on the arm of his chair, “This is the Federation starship USS Mackenzie, Captain Ambrose Harris speaking.  We’re here to ask some questions, nothing more.  We have no hostile intent towards the Hazari.”  He closed his microphone and waited.  Nothing.  

The four ships remained where they were as Atega worked her console, “Showing they have received the message but…nothing in response.”

Suddenly the four ships opened fire, impacting the shields.  Harris grumbled, “Apparently, it was a boring conversation.”  He moved to order Red Alert but held short. The weapons fire had only been a burst.  “Damage report?”

At operations, Calog shook his head, “Minimal.  Shields holding.”

Kondo spoke up, “I believe they are pulling their punches, sir.”  Harris glanced at him, eyebrows raised.  The tactical chief explained, “The power readings on those ships – their blasters, phasers, projective weapons would give us a mild run for our money.  They hit us with low-powered blasts.”

Ambrose, exasperated, complained, “Why does everyone in the Delta Quadrant seem to want to test our defenses?  Is it just us, or is this a new policy we didn’t get looped in on?”

Okada cracked a smile, “They might just like us better than everyone else.  Although ‘like’ may have different meanings in the Delta Quadrant.”

The CO tapped the console on the arm of his chair again, “This is Captain Harris of the USS Mackenzie.  Please respond.”  He muted the channel again and muttered,  “I’d be tempted to get into a shooting war if only to send a message not to mess with the Mack to the rest of this quadrant.”

Cardamon looked up from his PADD, “Captain, I believe I have a solution.”  Harris gave him a look to continue, and he did, “You may need to go into business with them in order to get an answer.  Open a contract.  Then they will become far more…talkative.”

Okada laughed and covered her mouth as she explained, “It is the most reasonable explanation…they are a bounty hunter species.  They are a business.  You gotta pay for what you want.”

Ambrose sighed, “Thirty more days of this.  Fair enough.  Do we contract them to find the SS Jeremiah?  Knowing full well they may actually have her as it is.”

Prentice spoke up from the helm, “It’s our only play.  We have something we need…and they need what we have.”

The CO tapped the arm of his chair, “This is Captain Ambrose Harris of the USS Mackenzie…we’d like to discuss a contract.”

The screen flickered to the bridge of a Hazari ship, and the captain stood, menacing the camera, “Now you are speaking our language.”

Harris was tempted to laugh out loud at the absurdity of it all but chalked it up to the growing list of absurdities of the Delta Quadrant.

“You have a contract you wish to engage?”  The Hazari looked at his viewer as he took in the bridge of the USS Mackenzie, “It's been some time since we've done business with proper Starfleet.”  He leaned in, “You have a Voth on your bridge?”

Cardamon looked up from his PADD and stared at the screen, silent.  Harris glanced to his right and then back to the screen, “He's our guest.  We're looking for a transport ship.  The SS Jeremiah.  We've been asked to find them.”

The Hazari narrowed his eyes, “You sure the Voth isn't…available as a part of negotiations?”

Cardamon exploded from his seat, shouting in a clear and distinct guttural roar that startled everyone on the bridge as he pointed his talons at the Hazari, “This Voth will never be available to you for anything short of a burial, you” he cursed in Voth at this point in a string that upset the Hazari enough that he shouted his curses back as the two roared at each other.

Harris stood and stepped in front of his Voth advisor, his eyes drilling in, “Enough!”  The reptilian eyes flashed with fury as he stared down the CO before huffing his breath in and out and roughly sitting in his seat.  Ambrose turned to the Hazari, “You will not speak to anyone onboard my ship in that manner, Hazari.  He is a guest of the United Federation of Planets and is afforded our courtesy, respect, and protection while onboard the USS Mackenzie.”

The Alien chuckled and looked off to his left and said something in his language, and returned to the screen, “Your idle threats do not scare me, Starfleet.”

Harris hadn't moved, “The last time your people tempted fate with a Federation ship…it was the USS Voyager…have you heard the tale?” An uncomfortable silence filled the channel as the Hazari blinked a few times, seeing Harris for the first time.  He took a step forward, “They outflanked you and the ThinkTank.  Voyager was 25 years ago.  Imagine what we've learned in a quarter of a century.”

The Hazari turned to someone off to his left again, and he began shouting at whoever it was until another Hazari entered the frame, unfocusing the camera for a moment as the body of the original speaker was picked up and thrown across the command center with a scream and a bone cracking snap, followed by silence.  A new, older figure stepped into view.  “The young forget their place in time, Captain Harris.  I am Y'Mar, and I am the senior…whatever it is you call someone who commands a fleet.”

Ambrose glanced at Cardamon, who had his arms crossed, and his face looked as if he was going to eat someone on the bridge in short order.  He nodded at the screen, “We, uh, call them Commodores…or Admirals.”

Y'Mar bobbed his head in appreciation, “Commodore Y'Mar.  I like it.  I remember the Voyager.  That was…an experience worth remembering.  You mentioned a bounty contract, Captain?”

“Yes.  We're hoping you can help us find the SS Jeremiah.  She's a transport ship from Earth.”

A snort, “That is unfortunate.  The SS Jeremiah entered our space and most of her crew attempted to steal one of our transport ships near our planet.  All but one were caught after a lengthy firefight and imprisoned for their crimes."  He crossed his arms, “I won't even charge you for that information.  That's…what do you humans call it…a courtesy.” Harris felt every single eye on the bridge at his back.  They had good reason to stare him down.  They had found at least half of the crew.  

Harris focused on, “You said ‘most’ and ‘all but one’.”

Y'Mar studied Harris from across space, “One of them escaped in the firefight and fled in one of our smaller shuttles.  He managed to get out of our system.  We tracked him to Devore space on our long-range sensors.  We decided to leave him to them.  One of the Jeremiah crew was found bound and gagged on the ship when we confiscated it.  We discovered some new words to add to our Earth dictionary.”

Ambrose thought for a moment longer, “If we said we would relinquish any claim to the Jeremiah and give you command and control of it…would that get us closer to releasing them?”

The Hazari considered it, “You said there was another ship out there.”  Harris explained the other ship briefly.  The Bounty Hunter considered, “If you were to bring us this newer transport ship…and our shuttle back…then, yes.  We'd be willing to discuss releasing the prisoners.”

A small sense of relief filled his heart, and he took his next gamble.  “Who was the one who did not participate?”

Y'Mar shouted at someone off-screen, and a device was handed over, and he read it carefully, “Her name is Natalie Harris.  I have a little knowledge of human naming…she is your….?”

His throat caught as he answered, “My…sister.  She's my sister.”  He recovered his emotions, “I would like to ask for her to be released…and her only.  You can keep the rest of the crew while we round up the rest of them.  We'd like to have a medical officer sent down to monitor them in the meantime.”  It was a big ask.

“If you were still talking to my foolish first officer, you'd get nothing.  But I am not above the…what is the term you say?  The give and the take.  I will release Natalie Harris to you.  You may send a medical officer to us…I would recommend sending someone hardy as our prisoner facilities are not pleasant.” 

The channel closed, and Harris walked back to his chair and sat in relief.  Cardamon turned to face the CO, “I…regret my outburst, Captain.”

Harris shook his head, “Your emotions are never wrong.  It's what we do with them that matters.”  He turned to face the Voth, “Truth is, Cardamon, I only stopped you because I wanted him to shut up, not you.  I would have let you read him every violation from every treaty signed since the start of time.  Nobody gets to own anybody.”

“I wish that was the rule of this place, Captain.  There is a small industry out there for Voth warriors from my world and beyond.  Those that fight…fight frighteningly well.”

Atega spoke up from her communications station, “Incoming message from Y'Mar.  He's ready to escort us to the planet and the prison to facilitate the exchange.”

“Confirmed.  Mr. Prentice, let's follow them onwards.  Maintain yellow alert.”  His heart was beating fast now.  His sister was alive and would be back in his arms soon.  The Delta Quadrant taketh away…but it also giveth.

Ambrose paced the shuttle bay.  Okada had made it clear that he wasn’t coming along.  Regulations were one part of it.  She also was keen to understand the danger of having a captain getting captured by opportunity.  He had resisted at first but ceded to her in the end.  Now he stood behind the shield, walking back and forth as Cardamon watched, either amused or shocked.  Harris wasn’t sure how to read the Voth well yet.  It was a work in progress.

“You love your sister.”  

Harris slowed his steps and faced his guest.  “Yes.”  He resumed his pacing.  

Cardamon watched him for a few more minutes, “You said she was eighteen of your years.  That would mean she was born when you were…seventeen.”  He tapped his claws on his chest, in thought, “I do not know what a human would feel like in that moment.”  He gave an expectant, or at least what Harris interpreted as an expectant, look.

Ambrose checked his chrono.  They had time, and he knew the Voth would continue to ask in a roundabout way until he found the answer that he was seeking.  He had learned at least that much about him.  “She was a surprise.  I was in my last year of high school when she arrived.  That first year…I was a babysitter when I got home from school.  Mom and Dad were working hard.  I got to know her that first year.  She was a cute baby.”  Cardamon looked up, and Harris chuckled, “Our babies are cute.  Well, most of them are.  There are some ugly babies.”  He pushed forward, “I went to Starfleet Academy in 2383 and made trips home when I could.  I worked hard at keeping my connection with her.”

The Voth asked, “Did it work?”

“It did.  I graduated from the Academy when she was 5. I made trips home, had calls with her, and even gave her a tour or two of the ships I was assigned over the years.  Mom would bring her along on her missions, and we’d meet up when we could.  Every time she wanted to see engineering.  Every time she wanted to know everything about it.  She applied to Starfleet Academy, and we were waiting to hear back on her application.  Then this all happened.”

“And your cousins?”

Harris grumbled, “Love is a strong word.  I’m not sure I love them.  Everything they’ve done…has always been about them.  It was just them growing up when they were younger…but they never grew out of it.  They just kept…going.  My aunt and uncle didn’t seem to see it as a problem…until it was too late.  Then, well…they were adults.  And it was a problem.  It is a problem.”  He glanced at the shuttle bay doors, “I’ll do everything I can to bring them home…but once they’re off my ship, I’ll wash my hands of them.  They’ve had time to figure it out.  I think the family is tired of running to their rescue.” The lights began to flash as the doors to the shuttle bay creaked slowly open.  The shield before them shimmered, “Well, here we go.”

The shuttle approached slowly as the klaxons changed timbre, and the lights went from yellow to red as announcements blared over the speakers on the progress of the shuttle.  Harris clenched and unclenched his hands, watching the window of the shuttle, waiting for a glimpse of his sister. The thundering sound of the impulse engines flared as the ship slowed, drawing closer to the landing space.  It wheezed as it lowered to the ground, and finally, a thumb as the legs touched ground and the landing space locked to the shuttle.  The massive doors shuddered closed, and the all-clear was given.

The shuttle door croaked open as the shield dropped, and Harris walked quickly to the gangway, waiting for his sister to appear.  Okada was down first and gave him a smile.  Next came Natalie.  She limped down the steps and fell into the arms of her brother, “Amb.  Thank god you showed up.”  He embraced her lightly as she cried quietly on his shoulder.  He pulled back and looked at her.  Her clothes were a mess, and her face was puffed and painted with blood and dirt.  Her smile was hidden by relief, and sadness rolled into one.

“I’m glad we found you, Nat.  Doctor Reid is going to help get you to sickbay.  We’ll talk soon, OK?”  She gave another weak smile and thanked Reid and her orderlies for helping her onto the biobed.  They quickly went to work transporting her to sickbay.  The rest of the crew went about securing the shuttle and the bay.

Okada handed him a PADD, “We checked on the rest of the crew.  They were mostly dehydrated and needed human food.   They let us bring a mobile sonic shower unit along with a replicator unit and some fresh clothes.  We talked to the crew a little.  Your cousins were originally in search of Blood Dilithium, but they got tipped off to something bigger…something better. Apparently, there’s something out that can do all nature of things.  They didn’t share details with the crew much – part of why this group surrendered as fast as they did.  You can read most of it there, but suffice it to say they were tired of the two about three weeks into the journey. The last straw came when they were forced to shove your sister into a corner to shut her up.  They decided the Hazari were better company than your cousins.”

Ambrose was reading and felt his heart’s fire explode from simmering to raging.  They were family, and he needed to find them.  They would spend the rest of the trip secured in the highest security he could manage in the brig.  “Fools.  Both of them.  Have Prentice ready to break orbit.  I need to see if I can engage the Hazari in an actual contract.”

The XO gave him a look, “The Delta Quadrant has different rules, Captain.  I encourage caution.”

Ambrose groused, “That word has a different meaning out here…but yes.  Your point is taken.  Walk with me to the bridge.  We’re going to need a plan.”

Natalie Harris had taken a long shower after being seen in sickbay.  She’d felt her muscles loosening and her stress slowly leaving her shoulders as she scrubbed, washed, and cleaned.  It was something Harris had told her about the Mackenzie – there were a few water-based showers and bathtubs on the ship.  The memories of the experience of coming to the Delta Quadrant, however, were still with her.  You couldn’t wash those away.  They remained entrenched and would take time to remove.  She’s been assigned quarters down the hall from her brother, and she stood in the massive apartment as she adjusted her cadet uniform.  Ambrose had made the decision to field assign her to the USS Mackenzie.  Partially because she was an engineer in mind and heart together with she had traveled with the Harris cousins.  She knew as much as anyone about what had happened…and what was going to happen.

The door chime trilled, and she called out, “Uh…enter?”

Jordan Reid entered and gave her a light hug, “You look better, Cadet Harris.”

Natalie smiled weakly, “It feels odd to be in a uniform…but it feels good too?  It feels good to be clean.  The smell of transport life isn’t for me.”  She waited as Reid slipped out her medical tricorder and took her readings.  “Please tell me it looks better.  I need better today.”

Reid gave her a comforting smile, “You’re plenty better, Cadet.  You’ll need to do a check-in with me later tonight, but you’re fit for duty.  The captain asked for you on the bridge.”

Harris chewed on her bottom lip, “How does this work?  My brother is the captain…I’m just used to calling him Amb.”

“Start with Captain.  It may feel weird to call him sir.  He’ll help you with it as you go.”  They talked for a little while before Natalie asked her to walk her to the bridge.  Jordan led her on the way.

Bridge – 0945

The doors opened to an active bridge, and Natalie felt her mouth drop open.  It was incredible and different from anything she had seen before – an Excelsior II class ship was the biggest thing she’d stepped foot on.  The consoles glowed while various officers worked on and together.  Her brother turned in his chair and jumped up to meet her at the turbolift.

“Welcome to the bridge, Cadet Natalie Harris.”  He extended his hand with a wink, and she gingerly shook his hand, feeling awkward and in awe at the same time.  Ponting to a station beside Okada, he said, “Our assistant chief engineer is out on injuries, and Chief Katsumi could use an extra set of eyes.  You’ve been entered into the computer with access restricted to Cadet level.”

She felt the warmth from the XO’s smile as she turned in her station.  She thanked her brother, “Thank you, A…Captain.”  He returned to the center chair, and she found her seat next to the Chief Engineer.  She waited for a beat before whispering, “What do I do?”

Okada pointed at the console, “Sign in to the LCARS.  It’s set to respond biologically to you.”  She waited and watched as Natalie awkwardly tapped at the glass, and the computer recognized her, displaying her name.

=^=Welcome to the USS Mackenzie, Cadet Harris.  First sign-on complete.  You may begin.=^=  She tapped once more at the console, and the engineering LCARS displayed master situations monitors, power levels, and various other statuses and commands.  She was in wonder, “Wow.  This is…is amazing.  Our transport systems are nowhere near this smooth.”

Katsumi chuckled, “Well, we’ve got an aesthetic in Starfleet.  LCARS have always had a feel.  Lots changed, but lots stayed the same.”

Harris glanced over the PADD and turned to Fowler, “What have we found with the Hazari shuttle?”

She took a deep drink from the coffee she held in her hand as she turned in her station to face her CO, “It went where they said it went.  The interesting thing is, it didn’t follow the same path as the other ship.”  She took another long pull from her cup and put it aside as she tapped the console, bringing the report up on the main viewscreen, “Using the sensor readings, they gathered together with what we could reconstruct.  It was headed towards the original track but then here,”  she tapped, and the image zoomed in on the map, “it suddenly shifted in another direction.  They tracked it until the signal faded.  Our scans turned up something similar.”  She hit another keypad, “Something else.  The Hazari have voice recorders installed in their ships that transmit data packets every half hour or so.  They wouldn’t tell me why, but I suspect it has to do with making sure everyone’s holding to the contract and whatever else.  You can’t just turn it off or disable it.  To get the thing shut down, you have to take apart the entire ship to the bones…their words.”

Prentice had been listening and chuckled, “They do not mess around.”

Harris agreed, “The more I learn about the Hazari, the more I want to steer clear of anything beyond waving as we pass by quickly, having gathered all our lost and found people.”  He returned his attention to Fowler, who had refilled her coffee in the interim, “I’m guessing you got some audio?”

Sadie took a long drink from her cup and nodded, “Yessir.  It’s hard to hear as he was getting farther and farther away, but as far as my team and I can extrapolate – he got a message from someone and took a hard turn in response to that message.”

Okada was working with Natalie on her console and turned to the CO, “So both of them are now deep in Devore space.”

Kondo rumbled from his seat, “A place that tested our defenses as an opening act.”  He shook his head, “Captain, I do not recommend we take the Mackenzie into Devore space.  We are a significant target.”

Ambrose felt he was starting to agree with his chief tactical officer, “Even if we take the Mackenzie in, we’d have to clear our course with them…and we don’t know where, past a certain point, either of those ships went.  Couple that with their habit of boarding, impounding, and whatever else…I’m inclined to agree.  Thoughts?”  He turned to his senior staff on the bridge.

Cardamon was deep in thought as he sat next to the captain.  “Devore space is a risky endeavor on a good day.”  He glanced around the room, “You bested them once only because they were just playing with you.  I’ve seen them when they’re done playing.  A smaller profile might be able to slip around the nets they would spring on us.”

Atega joined in the conversation, “I did some reading on our shuttle loadout. Don’t we have at least one New Atlantic-class runabout?”

Okada smiled, “Two.  I used a few favors up.”

The communications chief shrugged, “They’re big enough…and small enough.”

The CO thought for a moment before deciding, “Well, it’s the best idea so far.  Chief Okada, get your team working on prepping both ships ready for launch.  Have them equipped for search and rescue.  Cadet Harris, you’re with the XO.  Kondo – work with engineering to make sure shields and weapons on those ships are operating well.  Mr. Tir – you’re on securing the Mackenzie from another incursion in case they decide to come find us. Let’s get to work.”

Kondo sat in the tactical seat as he completed the start-up sequence for the Runabout Winona.  Next to him was Lieutenant Prentice looking nervous while he worked on charting a course through Devore space.  They were still in the shuttle bay of the Mackenzie.

Prentice spoke first, “Do we think the Devore will accept our course map?”

De La Fontaine verified the engine systems were operational as he continued down the checklist, “If they don’t, we’ll return to the Mackenzie for a plan B.”

Will was halfway through the flight plan, “If they don’t let us in…why would they let the Mackenzie in?”

The tactical chief finished the second section of the checklist and turned to face Prentice, “We have control over what is in front of us, Lieutenant.  We can handle and process exactly that and no more.  That level of planning is up to the people on the bridge of the Mack, including our captain.”  He gestured to the console in front of him, “Get us a believable course to present to the Devore.  What they say will determine what we do next.” Prentice felt his face warm from the embarrassment and busied himself with the course plot.

Natalie stood at the rear of the runabout watching the two in the cockpit.  She glanced at Okada as they both worked on installing the last element of the search and rescue template.  “They seem to be getting…along?”

The XO glanced up and followed her gaze.  Kondo and Will was an interesting pairing – one very serious about his craft while the other afflicted with a seasonal lackadaisical approach that had found him on the short end of a troubled stick a few times.  Okada had to give it to Prentice -he’d flown fairly straight from the Erigone to the Edinburgh to the Mackenzie.  She wondered if the suppressed fighter pilot mentality was just waiting to pull the rip cord and parachute him back into dangerous territory.  “They’ll have to – there’s no room for error out here.”  She powered the last unit and smiled wide, “That’s done.”  She looked down at her PADD to check to make sure all the right equipment had made it onboard.  She glanced over at the cadet, “How are you feeling about going out again?”

Harris checked the equipment on the other side of the room as she went, “I’m feeling…better.  I mean, it’s the latest in runabout technology, it’s a Federation ship, and I can sit down without having to squat or lean on hull plating.” Okada gave her a look, and she sighed, “I forget you’re the XO, so I have to give a more serious answer.  I’m feeling good.  I trust both of those men and the crew that’s coming along are some of the best.  I’m here to see if I can help find my two idiot cousins, and that’s what I’m focusing on at the moment.”

Katsumi thanked her for the honest answer and handed her the PADD, “Everything checks out.  The complete manifest, in case they ask for it, is on there.  You’ll want to buckle up in case things get a little…exciting.  Good luck, Cadet Harris.”  The XO headed out and greeted the other crew stepping onboard.  The assistant chief medical officer came into view, and she gave a wave to Ensign Yoshiyuki as he found his seat, along with Nurse Fuentes as she stowed her medical equipment.  Last onboard was the science officer Ensign Menzie who nervously looked around until she found a place for her science systems and then strapped in.  As the engineer away team member, Harris sat in the jump seat near the back of the cabin.  She wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

In the cockpit, Prentice tapped at the console as Kondo relayed to him, “Shuttle Control confirms we are clear to depart. They wish us Godspeed and luck.”  The Runabout Winona wheezed and then asserted with a rumble as it lifted off the surface and lumbered towards the nearly open shuttle bay doors.  A moment later, they were slipping away from the Mackenzie and toward the theoretical line of the Devore Imperium.  Soon enough, the computer alerted them they were nearing the line.

“All stop,” Prentice announced.  He turned to Kondo, “I think yielding to you for the next step is a good idea.”

“We agree on that.”  He tapped at the console and opened a hailing frequency to the nearest Devore ship, “This is Lieutenant De La Fontaine of the Federation Runabout Winona, requesting passage through Devore Imperium space.”  He watched and waited for a response.  

Three minutes later, a voice crackled through the speakers, =^=This is Inspector Jasev.  You will transmit your flight plan to us and standby for scanning.=^=  Kondo responded in the affirmative and sent the flight plan Prentice had plotted.

The chief helm officer sighed, “They didn’t mention our first encounter.”

Kondo replied, “I suspect they will never acknowledge it, Lieutenant.  It was done without the rest of the fleet to see, and we’re the only other witnesses.”

Prentice countered, “We have video footage.”

A shrug, “They would claim it a fabrication intended to cause a conflict or attempt to blackmail.  You should read the file on them that Voyager collected.  They are an impressive species…and very much worthy of our concern.”

The voice of the Devore inspector returned, =^=What is your purpose in our space, Lieutenant De La Fontaine?=^=

“We’re searching for two lost transport ships.  One Federation, the other Hazari.  We traced them both to Devore space.  We simply wish to follow the charted path, locate them and return them.”

Another pause.  In the rear compartment, Ensign Menzie was practicing her breathing while Natalie listened to the conversation in the cockpit.  She cursed her two mad cousins over and over in her head.  She wasn’t going to forgive them or forget the lies and the deceit.  It had become apparent in her short time on the Mackenzie that other people were different.  She looked at Menzie, “It’ll be alright.  We’re in good hands.”

Her eyes remained wide, “You keep saying that, Cadet Harris.  When I believe it, I’ll let you know.”

The voice returned, =^=Anything you find in Devore space will need to be inspected and verified before being removed from our space.  You also will be subject to inspection as you travel through our space.  Please transmit your roster and manifest.=^=  Kondo tapped the console and sent the information.  He wondered how much conversation was happening on the other side.  They had to know about the humans.  Captain Harris had already voiced his concern that part of the crew had probably been captured by the Devore, lost behind the foggy borders. Kondo would need to stay a few steps ahead if they were to locate the crew and the ships.  =^=You certify there are no telepaths onboard your runabout?=^=

That was an easy answer, “There are no telepaths onboard Runabout Winona.”

=^=What about the Federation Starship Mackenzie?=^=

Kondo muted the channel and swore, “Sonofabitch.”  They nearly rattled him.  He amended that in his head. They’d rattled him, but he’d managed to slap the mute button fast enough.  He shook his head at Prentice, “Ignore that.”  He calculated the risk of hailing the Mackenzie at the moment to get the opinion of his captain.  He decided against it and released the mute, “I’m just a lowly lieutenant, Inspector.  I don’t have access to our crew roster.  You would need to directly hail the ship.  Captain Harris is our commanding officer.”

Prentice stared at him and then at the open channel.  The Devore was squirrely; that was becoming apparent.  The Mackenzie wasn’t near their borders.  Were they trying to see if they could shake them up?  Or was this just Devore Imperium Policy 101?  Would they be boarding them to make sure they weren’t lying?  That gave him a new reason for his already sweaty palms.

=^=We will do that.  We’ve transmitted your clearance through Devore space.  Please activate your transponder and have it active at all times.=^=  The channel slammed shut with a squawk.  Prentice sighed in relief but his cockpit partner wasn’t thrilled.

The tactical chief gritted his teeth, “Activating transponder with clearance codes.  Now everybody can see us. What fun.”

Prentice felt the hairs on his neck stand up a little taller, “I suppose we have to go in now, don’t we?”  

Kondo gave him a long look.  “Set course for the first checkpoint, warp 1.”  He unstrapped from his chair and stepped into the arch leading into the main section of the runabout, “Science, let’s get to scanning and working.”

The Winona’s warp engines glowed as they powered up and flung the runabout onto her course.

Sadie Fowler nervously tapped on the non-control surface of her console.  She’d been tasked to work through the files that Harris Transport had included on the ships, the cousins, the sister, and the crew.  They had completed the first three items on the review checklist.  The computer loaded up the two ships’ crew manifests, and she began to check each item that was attached to a name- an unusually deep psychological profile, a background check that would make Starfleet security proud, and a complete history of the individual from birth to just a month ago when things had gone so wrong.  One of her science officers handed her a refilled cup of coffee, and she eagerly took a drink.  She started with the crew that was still out there somewhere in the space that belonged to the Devore Imperium.  Her eyes read each sentence three times – she’d learned at a young age she could commit most things to long-term memory by just reading something three times.  It had been a fun talent as a child, an asset in school, and an edge in the Academy.  It helped temper her fear and anxiety as a newly minted senior officer.  She read one line three times and stopped.  She read it for the fourth time; ‘Crewmember Koren’s grandmother was Betazoid.’

She recognized her error in the order of her investigation and asked the computer to list out the species of the crew on the second shuttle.  She gasped, earning a turn in the chair from her CO.  Fowler read it three times to be sure, and she turned to meet her captain’s curious gaze.  “Sir, I’m working through the manifest reports for the second shuttle.  According to the records sent to us, there are two full Betazoids, One-half Betazoid/Human, and three Vulcans.  There’s also one whose grandmother was Betazoid.  So…seven of the 20 would fall under the guidelines of the Devore Imperium as qualifying as detainable and imprisonable.”

Harris left his chair and stood over her should, reading the names and ages of those that the science chief had found.  “Secure this file and encrypt it for senior staff only.”  He glanced at Okada, “You have to wonder why the Devore let our team through.  Do they know what we know…or are they thinking we’ll draw the prey out the farther we travel into the shadowy sector?”

Okada wasn’t sure, “The Voyager mission files suggest a highly intelligent species.  It has been around 25 years since we’ve had reasonable and actionable intel from the area.  They may have adjusted and adapted their process to us.  To what end, I haven’t a clue.  It’s probably bad, but I’m basing that solely on what quadrant we’re in and nothing else.

Light laughter broke out across the bridge, and Harris didn’t correct her.  The tension would need breaking every so often.  A beep pinged off Ensign Atega’s station, “We’re being hailed by the Devore Imperium ships at the border, sir.”

The CO glanced at Cardamon, “Last chance to keep out of sight.”  The Voth shook his head firmly and stared straight ahead at the viewscreen.  “Ensign, on screen.”

The screen filled a Devore in the center, his command center behind him,  =^=This is Inspector Jasev.  You are within distance of the border of the Devore Imperium.  State your intentions.=^=

Harris fought the urge to frown and lost.  He thought for a moment about his words, at least, before he said them, “This is Captain Ambrose Harris of the Federation Starship Mackenzie.  We’re waiting for our runabout’s mission to find two missing ships to be completed.”

The figure on the screen had centered on Cardamon, his eyes staring at the Voth.  =^=Explain why you have a…Voth among your crew, Captain.”

Ambrose wanted to tell the Inspector to shut the hell up, and he wasn’t the boss of him or his ship.  But wants and needs are two different things for a Starfleet captain alone in the Delta Quadrant.  “He is a guest of this ship and the Federation.”  The questions were perfunctory.  He was waiting for them to become offensive.   He didn’t have to wait long.

=^=You are aware of our requirement that you disclose if your crew has telepaths and telepath-capable species aboard your starship.=^=

He noticed Cardamon shift in his seat, claws slowly gripping the edges of his seat.  “I am aware of the requirement and various policies you have regarding transit into and through the space of the Devore Imperium.  We are not in Devore space at this time, Inspector.”

The inspector stood a little taller on the screen. = ^=You are refusing to disclose your ship’s manifest of telepaths?=^=

The frown was now a furrowed brow.  The Devore’s obsession with telepaths didn’t sit well with anyone, and this new wrinkle was starting to feel like a fishing expedition, just not with hooks and lures.  There was the unstated threat of powered weapons in the mix.  Harris tried once more, “If we transit your space, we would submit to a manifest inspection and a discussion regarding your query about the possibility of a specific type of species onboard the Mackenzie.”

The Devore Inspector turned to speak with someone, and Harris muted the channel from his console on his chair, swinging to the bridge crew, “What the hell is going on here?  Why they’re trying to spook us?”

Atega was working on her console, “I can confirm they are in communication with at least two other Devore ships…possibly more.  Communications traffic has picked up considerably since we started talking.”

Fowler contemplated, “When you want someone to step back, you make them uncomfortable.  If you know they don’t want to fight, you push them as far back as you can so they can’t see whatever it is you’re hiding…or doing.”  She pointed at the readings on the Winona, “She’s made it to course waypoint four of twenty.  The farther away she is, the longer it takes us to get to her.”  She took a sip of her coffee and winced.  It had gone cold.  She went for a refill.  Her headache from the jarring morning wakeup was fading away, thankfully.

Harris glanced at the screen showing the runabout’s progress and then back to the screen.  The Devore Inspector was back in the center of the screen, staring.  The CO motioned to Atega to unmute.  The alien spoke first; =^=You are required to give additional space between you and the Devore Imperium.  We have transmitted the location you must relocate to at this time.=^=

Ambrose glanced at Fowler’s station and raised his eyebrows, “This puts us much farther away from our runabout in case of emergency.”

=^=It is not an option, Captain.  You must comply.  The Devore Imperium grows tired of Starfleet’s belief they can go anywhere and do anything.  Your runabout has six hours to complete its mission and flight plan.  They will be instructed to leave Imperium space at that time.=^=

“If we do not comply?”

=^=Your runabout will be seized, the crew imprisoned and charged with various crimes of varying natures.  You will never see them again.=^=

Harris knew what he wanted to say.  Yet he also knew what he needed to say.   “We will withdraw to the waypoint you suggested.  Thank you for your time, Inspector.”  The Devore moved to speak, but the CO gave the nod to Atega, who closed the channel.  “Helm lay in a course and engage.”  The Mackenzie shuddered into action as the bridge crew looked to their captain as he resolved, “That was our only compromise.  The Devore Imperium has drawn the line.  Ops – I need the shuttle bay rigged and prepared for an emergency landing and a crew on standby at all times.  Okada – get with the transporter team – we need a plan if we can only get them off the runabout and fly like the wind.  The rest of us – I’ll take any ideas and suggestions on how we resolve this or prepare for whatever the Devore have planned.”

A science held before each of them turned to their stations and began to plan for whatever came next.

“Six hours?  That is not enough time.”  Prentice grumbled.  He was working to move them from waypoint to waypoint as quickly as he could.  Science had to do its part in scanning long-range and short-range at each place that the Runabout stopped.  All the while, Kondo kept an eye on the tactical map in front of him, aware that the Devore signals he was seeing weren’t an accurate indicator of what was out there.  He turned back to Ensign Menzie, his eyes searching her tense face for any sign of a break in her concentration…or a breakdown in her ability to do the job.  When she had stepped onboard, he had observed her nerves were elevated, but her terse conversation with Cadet Harris had given him cause to worry.  The chief helm officer watched the screens from his position as the sensors worked their way through the list of signals, warp trails, incidentals, and accidentals that surrounded them in the blackness of space.  

Menzie’s mind was a torrent of rushing rapids crashing from worry to stress to anxiety to fears, dumping into her stomach where it churned the inner mud of her soul until it flowed back up to the top and careened back down the rock-filled path again.  She’d been confident in most things – she’d been voted most likely to be a security officer if science didn’t work out.  Now she was staring at signals of Devore bouncing around the sectors and systems in a rhythmic dance of death.  She was doing her best to focus on the work with the sensors, hoping they’d find something, anything, so they could get the answers they needed, get what they needed, and get the hell out of this place.

Kondo took one last look at her eyes as they flew from screen to console and back again.  She was working, and it seemed to be helping, “How long until the next waypoint from here?” he asked Prentice.

“Fifteen minutes to waypoint 5.”  He glanced at Menzie and lowered his voice, “We’re either going to have to hurry this up or skip a waypoint or two.”

The tactical chief shook his head, “We’ll work until the timer runs out.  Then we’ll decide what to do.”

Will gave him an expectant look, “That wasn’t part of the briefing.”

“We have to find them.  We won’t be able to get back in this space again – I’m not a diplomatic expert, but if the conditions of your stay in someone’s home have a time limit…I don’t think they’re going to let you back in again after you’ve left.”

Prentice groused, “Maybe they do things differently in the Delta Quadrant.”

Kondo laughed, “That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard you say in some time, Lieutenant. They do things differently here, that’s for sure.  Instead of rolling out the carpet, they roll you into the carpet.”  The confused look from the helmsman caused him to scoff, “Do people just not watch mafia movies anymore?  Honestly, we need to get you an education.”

Menzie came up for air, “I’ve got as few data points – sending to your consoles.  Sector clear.”  She leaned back in her chair.  They had nearly fifteen more waypoints to go.  It felt like an eternity.  The warp engines thumped into action, and they were on the way to waypoint 5.

“She’s having a panic attack.” Ensign Yoshiyuki, assistant chief medical officer, was working with the science officer, Ensign Menzie.  They’d arrived at the 13th waypoint.  She’d started having trouble breathing, and then her heart rate broke into a gallop on the straightaway.  He’d quickly pulled her away from her console and gently set her on one of the biobeds.  Kondo stood in the arch to the cockpit, his eyes full of concern and worry.  Menzie was their science officer.

“Can you stabilize her?” The chief tactical officer’s concern was being in the middle of Devore space sans a competent science officer on a specific science mission using science tools and sensors.

Menzie groaned and began to hyperventilate, her eyes going wild and wide.  Yoshiyuki glanced back at him, “I will attempt, but it will take time.”

The air felt thick to Natalie as she drummed her fingers on the jump seat in the back.  She’d watched Menzie slowly start to lose her mind and clued the doctor in early on – they’d both been watching the young woman unravel.  Harris had asked her if she was ok and had earned a dismissive wave and a “Shut up; I’m working” reply flung back for her trouble.  Now there was a risk of them being unable to complete their mission.  She glanced at the chrono. 1400.  They had three hours to complete seven checkpoints and find her stupid cousins.  Harris caught Prentice glancing back, worry playing across his face.  Time was running out.  She stood and walked to where Kondo stood.  “I can take over for Ensign Menzie.  Did some training time with the science teams at Harris Transport.”

De La Fontaine looked back at the assistant chief medical officer, who was carefully administering hyposprays as he talked softly to Menzie.  There was plenty at stake, and there was no guarantee that the science officer would be able to hold it together.  “Take the seat, Cadet.  Start the scans.”  He returned to the cockpit.

Natalie tapped her fingers over the console as she familiarized herself with the various factors they were searching for and how they were searching for them.  She realized part of why Menzie felt the way she did.  It was a primarily manual process – whatever readings came back had to be examined, identified, and categorized. The computer was compiling the data as it was assembled from each waypoint to determine if there were trends or similarities that needed a human eye to further delineate.  Looking at the data, there was much follow-up needed with a human eye.  She looked back at a quiet Ensign Menzie and pressed forward.  The sector was obnoxiously busy with various engine signatures. Harris worked to separate those first and then went to work on parsing out the communications channels that were in and out of her sensor readings.  Then it was the ambient readings from the sector.  It took her a moment to get the flow, but she had it done in twenty minutes, “Sending you the results.  Nothing significant.”

Prentice let out a sigh of relief, “On to waypoint 14.  Fifteen minutes to arrival.”  The runabout slipped into warp speed, and the timer above the cockpit reset.  Harris returned to the console, pushing the scans to continue as they traveled.

 Waypoint 14 – 1440

Natalie went to work as the Winona dropped from warp speed.  Her fingers tapped at the console quickly, her eyes searching the data for patterns.  Menzie’s bed had been shifted to be near, and she watched the engineer work.  A moment passed, “Don’t ignore the spikes.  Those could be something.”

Harris glanced at the science officer, “You’re supposed to be resting, Ensign.”  She continued to work.

“You think you know enough.”

The cadet turned to Menzie and scowled, “I’m doing OK.  You need to rest.  Panic attacks are not good the first or second time.”

Alanna Menzie sighed, “I’m trying to help, Cadet Harris.  You don’t know what to look for in all that…mess.”

The engineer closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, “Fine.  What am I looking for?”

If the ensign was offended, she didn’t show it.  “You’re looking for irregular signals.  In the other waypoints, I was able to detect them…faintly, but they were there.  Assembling them was part of what the computer is working on.  Could be a signal, could be a message…or it could be a clue.”

Natalie keyed in the commands to separate any irregular signals.  Her eyebrows went up when green dots began to appear across the board.  “Damn…that’s…a lot.”  She looked over her shoulder at Menzie, “That’s fifteen…no…twenty signals.  That’s more than any other sector where we’ve been.”  She tapped the console, and the computer quickly downloaded the data attached.  Harris wondered aloud, “Are they leaving breadcrumbs?”

Menzie was tired, and her mind was pushing for rest.  She muttered, “Maybe.  We’re the ones picking it up – I don’t know if the Devore did the same.  Best we can do is follow our trail and see what we pick up.”  She faded into sleep, and Harris sent the data to Kondo.

 Waypoint 16 – 1530

“That is one big Devore ship.”  Natalie was staring at the portable science station, her eyes poring over the massive vessel, wondering why it was parked here at this waypoint.

Kondo spoke up from the cockpit, “We’ll keep an eye on the ship.  You do the work.”

Harris got to work as she remembered to search as Ensign Menzie had suggested – look for the irregular signals, look for the warp trails, and then start figuring out what else you need to see to find a trail or clues or something.  She found similar signals from waypoint 14 and then stopped, frozen by what she was seeing.  “Chief Kondo?  I need your eyes.”

De La Fontaine stood over her, searching the screen.  The moment he saw it, he whistled slowly, “Do you think the Devore have found this?”  

She shook her head, “No…otherwise, they would have picked it up or blown it apart.”  She leaned back in her chair, “They’ll pick up our use of transporters.  They will have questions.  Big questions from a big starship.”

Kondo contemplated, “There is a small docking port on this runabout.”  She turned and stared at him, “We pressurize the port, secure you in, and then we just…drift and collect the thing.”

“What are we going to tell the Devore?  That we just needed to test the docking port?”  He stared back at her until she went, “Oh…you want me to invent something going wrong with the docking port, and I have to fix it.”

The tactical chief grinned wide, “Now you’re thinking like a Starfleet engineer.”

It took half an hour, but the setup was complete, and Harris had an EVA suit on.  She was standing in the dock as it closed and pressurized.  Her magnetic boots snapped into place as the gravity loss began.  She spoke in the open channel, “Confirming I’ve found the leak.  You’ll need to use the maneuvering thrusters to move us into position to ensure I dispose of the malfunctioning unit.”

In the cockpit, Kondo began the arduous process of adjusting the Winona towards the package they were intending to collect.  Prentice called out the navigational points as the runabout shifted slowly toward the target.  He was practicing his breathing.  The large Devore ship hung menacingly ahead of them.  Slowly the Winona shifted as it inched further and further toward the item.

“The processing unit is bad; I knew it.”  She grumbled for effect as she used her sonic screwdriver to loosen the device and slip it out.  She attached a small explosives charge to the unit and gently slid it towards the open dock door, “The power charge isn’t going down – looks like it’s gonna short out in a few minutes.  I’m sending it out the door.  Close on my mark.”  She slipped into a new unit and locked it in place.  Turning, she lumbered to the blue X Kondo had drawn on the floor.  “Standby; it’s in motion.”

As the device passed out of the dock, something smaller slipped in as the Winona’s inertia pushed the item into the dock area.  She waited until it drifted into reach, and she snagged it.  She spoke to Kondo, “It’s out, close the door!”  The dock door thundered shut, and she gently tapped the button in her other hand.  A small explosion rocked the Winona as the remote charge did its work.

“We’re safe.  Securing the dock.”  The air and gravity rushed in.  She closed the open channel and smiled wide as Kondo entered, “That’s an inert communications badge from Harris Transport.  Things have all the features of Starfleet plus a few other tricks.  Get it powered, and I’ll see what I can dig out.”  She accepted the help of removing the EVA suit.  They returned to the science station, and Natalie hooked the badge up, powering it.  A moment later, she gasped, “This isn’t my cousin’s work. This is Adrianna’s.”  She explained, “Adrianna Morgan…one of the best communication people we have.  She can encrypt like a master.”  She worked for a moment and then pointed at the screen, “This is where they were going.  Everything they were looking for is on here – maps, records, logs, everything.  She must have done a dump of the system without those two knowing what she was up to.”

Kondo examined the map, “That’s a half hour away…near waypoint 19.”  He glanced at the clock, “We’re going to fake our scans at 17 and 18.  I’ll get Prentice moving.  Good work, Cadet Harris.  Get ready for the real work – if they’re there or nearby where she said they’d be…we’re going to have to do it quick and dirty.  I’ll send a coded message to the Mack.  Be ready for anything.”

They had faked the scans at the two previous waypoints.  Natalie Harris could feel the nerves being plucked as she carefully began the scan.  They’d reviewed the data from the badge and been able to focus on where Adrianna was pointing them.  It was a small moon near the waypoint, and the sector was empty save for the aforementioned moon and an asteroid belt just beyond it. Alanna Menzie was still in the biobed, but had opened her eyes and was talking the cadet through some more of the basics.  There was no sign of Devore Imperium ships in the sector, and it seemed to give the sidelined science officer some comfort.  A moment later, something pinged on the scanners, and Harris leaned forward, “Ensign Menzie…is that a….”

Alanna sat up a little and muttered, “Oh god.  That’s a signal.  Not Devore, not Federation.”  She lowered herself back into the bed, her world spinning more than she liked.

Natalie went to work to attempt to define it as she spoke to Kondo in the cockpit, “Chief Kondo, I think I have a contact. It’s a ship.  Verifying now.”  She worked her fingers at a breakneck pace.  They had half an hour before they had to be on their way out of the Imperium’s space.  The badge had led them there and within range of possibly the final clue.  A moment later, she had it, “Confirmed.  The ship’s readings match the SS Loch…they’re…inside the moon?”  Kondo was behind her as she finished her sentence.

“Inside the moon.  That may be why the Devore couldn’t find them.  It would also explain why there are no ships here.  How do we get them out?”

Natalie thought for a moment – “If they got in there, we can get in there.”

Kondo returned to the cockpit, “Prentice, we’re going into the moon.  Everybody strap in!”

Harris helped the ACMO secure Menzie and then returned to her jump seat, where she buckled in, hoping that this would be easy.  Who was she kidding – this was the Delta Quadrant.  The game started on the hard level.

USS Mackenzie – 1630

“The coded message makes it clear they think they’ve found the transport ship and that there’s been some new evidence to confirm that.”  Ensign Atega was at her communications station, examining the text message that had come through.  Harris stood next to the station, hand to chin, as he listened.  “Our long-range sensors confirm they are within range of waypoint 19 and that there are currently no Devore ships that we can see.”

Fowler spoke up, “The Devore are notoriously good at hiding themselves hence why we’re qualifying it with ”see” versus confirm.  Short-range sensors are showing the same thing around us – we’re down to two Devore patrol ships within range.  There’s been some mild movement here and there of the ships but nothing significant.”

Harris gently corrected her, “Careful, Lieutenant.  When we remember who we’re dealing with and where we are, ‘mild’ can have many different interpretations and definitions.  Where did those two ships go?”

She had blushed a little at her captain’s pushback but returned to her console, “One went back to its original posting and the other…looks like its course would take it near waypoint 19.”  She felt her stomach turn a little at what she had ignored.  “I should have checked, sir.”

Ambrose gave her a quiet nod, “You should have.  Take the correction, and learn in order to avoid the mistake in the future, Lieutenant.”  He walked to the helm console where Prentice’s assistant sat, “Ensign Del Castillo, I need you to plot a course to waypoint 19.  Well, several courses.”  She listened to him carefully.  Gabriela was 19 years old and had just recently earned her Ensign rank.  She’d studied enough to know being in the driver’s seat of any starship was equal parts boring and thrilling.  It all depended on when you were sitting in the seat.  She’d been quietly thrilled that Prentice was put on the runabout.  Now she was realizing what sitting in the chair meant.  There was no room for error in this job.  Whatever Captain Harris was about to ask her to do, she was going to have to deliver.  She looked at him as he continued.  “There’s a good chance we’re going to have to punch through Devore space without permission.  I need you to plot out our initial entry point in…but then have multiple points to choose from depending on the presence of Devore patrols or more as we go.  The quickest and fastest routes are the ones we’re going to need.” He paused and then asked, “Any questions?” She had none. “Let’s get to work.”

Runabout – 1640

They’d managed to fly through the caverns into the depths of the moon without too much trouble.  The various exterior lights lit the path ahead as well as the sides of the walls and the world they were leaving behind.  A few bumps here and there had left Menzie in need of a hypospray and Natalie with her hands clenched into the depths of her jump seat.  Prentice rounded the next bend and slowed the ship to a stop.  The SS Locke hung in the darkness ahead as the lights from the Winona cast upon a scarred and roughed-up hull.  The running lights were dim.  Natalie scanned, “I’m picking up twelve life signs…some are pretty weak.  The ship looks worse than it is – all systems are reading back as functional.” 

Kondo stood and motioned for the doctor and her to follow him.  “We’re going to transport over – Harris, you need to make sure that ship can fly out of here and back to the Mack.  Doctor, you need to make sure everyone can make that trip.”  It took them moments to transport over.

SS Loch- 1640

They appeared on the command deck and found several prone bodies in the hall and the doctor quickly checked them, “They’re still alive…they’re going to need the Winona. I’ll tag them for the moment.”  They continued until they reached the bridge.  Twenty eyes turned to face them.  They were beaten, bloodied, and burned – ten of the crew of the SS Loch.  

One of them spotted Natalie and gave a shout, stumbling towards her, “Nat!  Oh, thank god you came.  Thank everything.”  

She fell into the arms of the cadet, who grasped her tightly, “Adrianna….”

The doctor went from person to person, and he returned to Kondo, “They will all need the services of the Mackenzie’s sickbay…but the two in the hall must return to the Winona immediately.”  

Kondo waved him on and turned his attention to the crew, “Where are the brothers?”

Natalie sat her friend down in a chair and turned to look at the rest.  She found one at the far end, avoiding eye contact, “Rafael Harris, you son of a bitch.”  Before Kondo could stop her, she advanced on him as if she was a photon torpedo.  She grabbed him by his collar and threw him to the ground, “You tied me up….and duck-taped my face you ass!”  She sent a well-aimed kick into his stomach twice, “I should do the same for you!  Piece of shit.”  Natalie spat on him as Kondo stepped between her and her cousin.

“That is enough, Cadet Harris.”  She growled at him and hustled away to stand at the door to the bridge, staring daggers, phasers, fire, and death at her cousin.  Kondo did not help Rafael up as he groaned.  The tactical chief spoke to the crew, “We are fifteen minutes away from our time expiring in Devore space.  Can this ship fly out of the moon and get to warp speed?”

A young man raised his hand, “Yea.  We were hiding here because we thought they’d come back for the rest of us.”

Kondo frowned, “The rest of you?”

Rafael sat up and pulled himself up, groaning and moaning all the way until he was able to catch his breath, “There were twenty on this ship.  They took eight.  All our telepaths and Julian.”

Natalie snapped up her head and stared at her cousin once more, “Where are they?”  He swallowed and didn’t answer.  She advanced on him and stood toe to toe, face to face; Kondo watched both carefully, well within arm’s reach of both.  “Where are our people, Rafael?  Where the fuck are they?”  Kondo observed palpable fear in the eyes of the young man.  She scared him.  Not just in this moment.  But in life.  He realized it was why they had tied her up.  Natalie Harris would have put an end to this madness had she been free to do so.

The cousin Harris sighed, “They took them and sold them to the Hirogen.”

Natalie punched him hard.  Rafael spun with a grunt and hit the ground with a whimper.  Kondo glanced down.  He was still breathing.  He turned to the remainder of the crew, his tone even but dripping with menace, “Explain.”  If they feared Natalie, they were terrified of Kondo.  They immediately told the story of how the seven had been discovered on a boarding inspection and taken.  The remaining crew had been beaten and then left with a promise to return if they were still here.  Someone had asked what prison the telepaths were being taken.  The Devore had snarled – they had decided to end the telepathic threat in different ways. One is prison. The other is to sell them to the Hirogen to train their warriors in the hunt.  A new and improved method of elimination.  De La Fontaine shook his head, “You stayed here…why?”

Adrianna offered, “We were trying to come up with a plan to go find them…but Rafeael kept telling us we had to go find this sacred…thing.  Something that would make us all rich and successful.  He said all he had to do was touch it, and he could make all our dreams come true.”

Kondo asked, “Did you find it?”

She shook her head, “Everything he found pointed him in a different direction.  When they started a month ago, it felt like they could find it – we had definite maps, solid background.  Then we started asking around the Delta Quadrant.  You know the rest of that story.”

Natalie spat her words bitterly, “Everybody we encountered wants to kill you all.”

Each of them bowed their heads quietly as realization began to set in.  Whatever treasure they had been looking for…it wasn’t going to be found here.  Kondo cleared his throat, “Our time is nearly up.  Follow us out of the moon and follow us out of here.”  He picked up Rafael and put cuffs on him as he tapped his badge, “Kondo to Winona – let’s get going.”

Runabout Winona – 1700

They had cleared the moon, and the SS Loch was behind them.  The space in front of them remained clear.  Prentice chewed on his bottom lip, “I know I shouldn’t say this but….”

Kondo silenced him firmly, “Then don’t.  Plot us a course to the Mack.  Advise the Loch to follow the same course.”  He glanced back at Natalie, her face a wash of an emotional tempest.  She was angry.  He was angry.  And pretty soon, his captain was going to be angry.  The Delta Quadrant knew how to bring it out in people.  Prentice tapped the console. They were ready.  “Engage.”  The two ships bounced into warp speed.

The stars swam by the ships as they traveled.  Kondo left the cockpit and sat by Natalie.  He remained silent for a few minutes before he finally spoke, “You can’t solve all your problems with punches and grabbing people.”

She gave him a side look and chuffed, “You don’t know what that jackass is capable of in his worst moments.  This is in the top five, no doubt.”

De La Fontaine gave her his own side look, “Cadet Harris – you are a part of Starfleet.  That cadet label suggests you’re more refined than…whatever this is that you’re presenting.”  He let those words sink in, “You have four years to learn but allow me to speed up the process – clean up your language while you wear that uniform and remember that people watch what you do in that uniform.”  There was a range of alarms from the cockpit, and he could hear Prentice calling for him.  “Duty calls.”  He returned to the cockpit, leaving Natalie with her thoughts.  And Menzie, who was looking at her.

She stared back at the science officer, “You have something to say, Ensign?”

Alanna merely pointed out, “You should listen to him.  I listened to the people who told me how to act right.  Saved my career.  I punched out a few in the Academy…didn’t get me any closer to a chair on a bridge.  Found my way.  And here I am.”

Harris rolled her eyes and returned to the sensors.

Kondo listened as Prentice reported that two Devore ships were in pursuit.  They had requested that both the runabout and transport ship pull over for inspection. So far, they had been giving static as the response.  The tactical chief asked, “How long until they intercept?”

“At current speeds – 30 minutes – just as we reach the border.  The Aerie has warp 6.9 emergency speeds – they can get to the Mack faster and get some distance from the border.”

Kondo ordered, “Do it.  Coded message to the Mack – we’re coming in hot.”

Sadie Fowler scanned the ongoing sensor reports as she spoke, “SS Loche has increased speed to their emergency warp speed of 6.9 - looks like they're giving it all they've got.  They'll cross the border in ten minutes.  It looks like they'll be able to avoid any Devore contact.”

Captain Harris stood beside her station, “And the runabout?”

The science chief tapped at the console, “Max speed is warp 6 - they'll going to be slightly behind…behind enough that there is a 75% chance the Devore ships on intercept course will get to them before they get across the border.” She rekeyed the scenario, “Now an 85% chance.”

Ambrose returned to his chair and sat, contemplating his choice.  He had promised the Devore they would answer the questions if they entered their space.  Breaking that promise would not just have implications for the Mackenzie and crew but the rest of Starfleet operating in the Delta Quadrant.  He decided to try and ask.  “Ensign Atega, open a channel to the Devore ship.  Get me Inspector Jasev.”  A moment passed, and the scowling face of the Devore officer stared back at him.

“What do you want?”

“I'm trying to avoid a situation.  We have one civilian transport under our protection and our runabout returning to the border to ensure we honor the time you had granted them.  They are being pursued and intercepted by Devore ships.”

“Your point?”  There might have been a snarl in the Devore's question; Harris wasn't sure.

“The point I was making was that they may be operating under the threat of boarding or attack by the Devore - and fearing for their lives in the process.”

A deep chuckling rumble emanated from the inspector, “Isn't the point, Captain?  They're fleeing from us despite orders to stop.  Their lives are already forfeit, and prison is a likely outcome.  The longer they run, the more chance we'll just remove them from the equation.  You're in the Delta Quadrant now, Federation.”

The channel cut, and Harris shook his head as Okada stepped to the railing behind him, “Captain…this isn't good.”

“No, no, it is not.  Send a message to the Loch - tell them to head to the outpost with all available speed.”  He waited a moment, “Ensign Del Castillo, plot me an intercept course with Runabout Winona.  How much time at Emergency Warp?”

She did her calculations, “We'll meet in five minutes.  It'll still be well within the border, sir.”

Harris replied, “I am aware.  Send the Winona a message - we're coming.  Be ready for crash plan.  Engage on my mark."  He turned to the bridge, “We're about to break a rule and a promise.  Note in your logs your protests if you feel compelled to do so…but we're getting our people out of here.”  He waited for anyone to speak up, “Good enough.  Red Alert - engage!”  The Mackenzie flashed into action and was on her way.  The two Devore ships slowly turned and then lept into following the ship.

On the Winona, Prentice's eyes went wide, “Crash plan?!  That's…I don't know if this ship is rated for that, Chief Kondo!”

The chief tactical officer was working his console as he shouted back at the crew, “Secure and strap yourselves down.  When they mean crash, they do mean crash.”  He turned to the Chief Helm Officer, “Rated or not, you're going to have to fly this girl into the Mack.  The lives of this crew and the crew on the Mackenzie depend on it, Chief Prentice.  This isn't in the realm of maybe.  This is happening.”

Will took a moment to absorb Kondo's words.  It felt like an echo of his earlier dangerous streak in the academy, only this time; he was being ordered to pull the craziest stunt possible in order to save the day.  He repeated that several times in his head.  He hoped it would steady his hands and mind as the stopwatch on the console clicked down and down.

Natalie helped strap Ensign Menzie down, and her eyes flitted open for a moment, “Thank you, Cadet Harris.”  She passed out before Harris could respond. The assistant chief went to work securing himself into his seat.  She needed to do the same.  They'd done their share of crash tests at Harris Transport with the various ship models.  She knew the chances of survival with most classes. 

Back in the cockpit, Kondo appraised the helm officer, “Devore ships intercept is imminent.  We're going to have to drop from warp in one minute.”

The bridge of the Mackenzie was bathed in a dull ruby as the alert klaxons continued to ring out as they sprinted toward the Winona. Harris gripped the arms of his chair.  They would only get one try at getting this right.  Ensign Del Castillo at the helm counted down from thirty seconds of their arrival.  Okada made her last notes for the damage control teams and glanced one last time at the power controls.  They were going to face off against someone for the first time with the Mack.  There was risk, danger, and fear blended.  She decided they'd just need to serve it in cups of courage.

“Arriving in 10….9…..8….”

Fowler kept her eyes on the screens in front of her as the chess pieces shifted around on the board.  What strategy was engaged, what positioning was used - it was all part of the unknown.  She would have to focus on the known to keep her sanity.  They were headed to battle for the first time on this new ship.  The time was nearly there.

“….5….4……3….2….”

The Excelsior II class starship burst from the stars and banked towards the runabout Winona that had just arrived as well.  Two Devore ships flashed in from another direction and opened fire, aiming for the runabout.  Harris growled, “Helm, put us between them and weapons fire.  Tactical - fire all phasers.”  The sound of the phaser controls echoed through the ship as they skimmed across the shields of the two Devore patrol ships.

The assistant tactical chief reported, “Minimal damage to their shields.  They're attempting to flank around us.”  Ensign Dogukan Dalman let loose with further repeated phaser fire as he spoke: “Their shields are down to 90% - we have their attention.  The shuttle is stable and starting her run to the shuttle bay.”

Sadie spoke up from her science station, “Detecting two more Devore ships inbound.  Arrival in one minute.  One of them appears to be larger than the others.  Scanning for weapons and power levels.”  Harris gave her a nod of thanks as the two patrol ships turned on the Mack and started firing repeatedly.  The thunderous pounding of weapons fire on the shields reached the bridge.

Okada reported, “Shields are holding…but they haven't hit us with their….” A roar shook the Mackenzie as the two patrol ships let loose their torpedoes.  The Chief Engineer grumbled, “Shields at 90%!”

In the cockpit of the Winona, Prentice was fighting to get the runabout back in line with the Mackenzie as she moved to take the fire meant for them.  He was muttering curses under his breath while concentrating hard.  Two Devore patrol ships had targeted them first and punished their limited shields.  He was very thankful for the size and power of the Mack.  She was a powerhouse compared to the Eddie.

Kondo reported from his seat, “We've got two new ships coming in.  One patrol ship and…one larger patrol ship…might be a cruiser.”  A flash of disrupter fire erupted across the Winona's shields and shook the runabout roughly, “The larger ship has some firepower.  Shields are down to 60%.  Prentice, if you're going to get us home…now would be a very good time.”  Will growled as he worked the engines on the runabout, hearing them protesting as he pushed the navigational and propulsion systems to the edge.

Natalie jumped from her seat and slid down the ladder to deck one.  She clumsily strapped herself into the wall as she checked the shield systems.  The ship shuddered, and sparks erupted from consoles as the helm officer careened his way through further weapons fire.  “Shields at 50%”, she muttered.  She found the shield relay system farther back and went to work.

“Captain, the cruiser is targeting the runabout. Shields at 50%.” 

Harris had had enough.  “Tactical - phaser and torpedo fire authorized.  Helm - get us on position for the Winona.  We're going to take some hits.  Once they're in the shuttle bay and stopped, get us out of here.”  The bridge shuddered for a moment.

Okada's hands were flying over the console, “Shields at 80% - they're turning their fire to the runabout.”  She shook her head now, “I don't think we're going to get her back…we're going to have to transport them off.”

Ambrose had seconds to make a decision.  The Mackenzie was a strong ship, but she was a big ship.  Moving her around was taking too much time.  “Signal them.  We're going to have to drop shields to do this.”   Ensign Dalman at tactical went to work preparing to direct cover fire to keep the ships busy.  Calog Tir took off to the turbolift, tapping his badge as he went.  He would need medical, just in case.  “Helm, get us in position.  Ensign Atega - be ready for transport activation on my signal.”  She nervously adjusted the earpiece, swallowing hard.  There was so much movement on the bridge and the screens.  The academy tests, trials, and simulations were one thing.  Staring at a battle in space and grasping the possibility the crew of the runabout might not make it - that was something else entirely.

“They want to WHAT?” Prentice shouted, unhappy about everything that was happening.  The runabout didn't just shake at the next barrage of fire.  It thrashed as if it was battling hand to hand in the final moments of a fight gone wrong.  It hurt like hell, but at least they were strapped in instead of bouncing around the cabin.  

Kondo tapped the weapons array as the shields dropped to 30%, and the Winona threatened to shake itself apart. “We're not making it home in this thing, Prentice.”  He turned to the back of the room and noticed Harris was gone.  “Where the hell's the cadet?!”  He quickly ran to the rear of the Winona, keeping his balance as the ship continued to toss and turn under fire. Kondo nearly fell down the ladder and barely stuck the landing, “Cadet Harris!”

Natalie coughed and slid out from the engineering section, her face a shattered map of burns, her cadet uniform smoking and blood beginning to bleed through the cloth, “Goddamn, that hurts.”  The ship shook, and the lights exploded along with every console around them.  The computer announced shields had failed, and the warp core was destabilizing.  She looked up at the tactical chief, the world a cloud of confusion and pain, “My brother is going to kill me for dying.”

There was a rumble that rushed to her ears as the world around her exploded in white.

=^=We have them!=^=

Harris didn't have time to celebrate as he ordered, "Shields!  Helm - get us the hell out of here.”  The shots from the Devore slammed into the shields as the Mackenzie swung into position, hung in space for a second, and was gone in a flash.  The Devore ships stayed in place before a smaller patrol ship took off in pursuit.

“They hit us with the shields down.”  Okada sat at her station; the MSD displayed several bright red blinking sections.  “We’ve had to seal off two full decks.  Reid is compiling a casualty list.”  The XO shook her head, “I don’t know what I expected of the Devore Imperium…but they surprised me.”

Harris gave her an understanding look, “How bad?”  She shook her head.  They still didn’t know.  “I think they surprised all of us, Commander.  The Delta Quadrant has been trying to send us a message since we got here…and we’ve been trying to ignore the reality of this place.”  He returned to the center chair, “I think it’s time we accept that reality…and start acting like we belong here.”  Okada headed into the turbolift.  She had damage control teams to work with.

Kondo spoke up from his station, “There is a lone Devore patrol ship on pursuit, sir.”  A pause, “It appears to be the Inspector’s ship.  Shields up, and weapons hot.”

Harris turned to Prentice, who had returned to his station, “We’re past the border?”

“We’re nearly back at the position they had demanded we retreat to, sir.”  Will was still shaken from making it off the exploding runabout.  Kondo had run to the bridge from the transporter room as soon as Cadet Harris and Ensign Menzie had been handed over to Doctor Reid.  Will had followed the tactical chief.

“Bring us to a stop and turn us around.  “Let’s see what they have to say.  Hail them.”  They were still at Red Alert.  He waited until the screen showed Devore Imperium Inspector Jasev.  Harris walked slowly to stand in front of his command chair and put his hands behind his back, staring down the inspector.

“You’ve made a terrible en….”

Harris nearly rolled his eyes as he interrupted, “Enough with the pontifications, Inspector.  You were right.  We are in the Delta Quadrant.”  

Jasev frowned, “What exactly is….”

“My point?  My point is this – I’ve decided that if we’re going to survive this month in the Delta Quadrant, we’re going to have to start acting a little bit like everybody else, especially when it comes to the Devore Imperium.  Inspector, you’ve proven you have no respect for us, our people, or anything that we stand for as Federation Officers.  Despite every best effort at attempting to find common ground, we’ve been rebuffed, attacked, and threatened.”  He stepped forward, “You don’t get to decide our fates, our future, or our Federation.  We will not go gentle into that good night, Inspector.”

The Devore feigned boredom, “Are you quoting poetry to me now?  What is this pathetic show….”

Harris firmed up his voice, “Poetry is power, Inspector.  Poetry is the language of warriors awash in the blood of battle.  It is the lyric of justice and wrath.  It is carried on the blazing wings of vengeance upon the darkness.”  He took a half step closer, “You have tested us, Inspector.  We’re still alive.  If our friends are not by the time we get to them…I will remember you.  Do you think you know everything there is to know about humanity?  Do you think you know what the many species of the Federation are capable of?  Remember us, Inspector.  We will rage against the dying of the light in this place not because we’re ordered to…but because we cannot ignore the needs of the many.”

Jasev’s countenance had shifted.  He stared at Harris for a moment as if seeing him for the first time.  A look of curiosity passed through his eyes, and he scoffed, “You are something else, Captain Harris.  You won’t best us again.  Stay away from Devore space.”  The channel closed.  Fowler reported the patrol ship was moving off and was soon gone in a flash of warp speed.

Ambrose shook his head, “Prentice, course to the outpost.  Maximum warp.  Engage when ready.  Lieutenant Tir, you have the CONN.”

Jordan sat in her office in Sickbay as the captain listen to her report, “We lost five between two decks with the shields down.  I’ve got ten in intensive care, five critical, and three in recovery after surgery. The forcefields that kicked in saved a lot of our people, Ambrose.”  They were alone in the office, and the door was closed.  He’d been allowing her to call him by her first name when they were alone.  He wasn’t sure if it was the right decision, but it was the one he’d made.

“Send the five names.  I’ll need to write a letter.”  He paused as his emotions pushed at his throat and eyes.  The losses on the Eddie were still there in the background, a harsh reminder of the risks of serving the Federation.  “Goddamn it.” He accepted the cup of water from his girlfriend and took a long drink.

Jordan put her hand on his shoulder, “I put Juliet in the loop.  She’s pulling files to start the process of talking to their friends onboard.  News will spread pretty fast once the names are released.  I’m sorry.”

He placed his hand over hers, “Thanks, Jord.  Tragedy seems to follow us around no matter what we do.  We’re going to get tired of this feeling if we aren’t already.”  He drained the cup, “We’re going to need to hold a funeral ceremony for those who have a need for some…closure.”  Reid agreed and handed him the PADD with the full report before he headed out the door to meet with each of the injured.  He spent several hours going from bed to bed to listen, to talk, and to encourage.  Each had a story to tell, and each of them mattered deeply to Harris.  The last bed held his sister, and she smiled weakly as he pulled up a stool to sit next to her.

“Sorry, we lost the runabout…sir.”  

Ambrose waved her apology off and looked her report over on his PADD, “According to Chief Kondo, you single-handedly kept the shields up and powered down to the last moment.”

Natalie did her best to shrug, but it hurt still, and she winced, “Did he tell you about how he had to yell at me?”

The older of the two gave her a knowing look, “He told me a few things.  Is that why you nearly got yourself killed?”

Her face became determined as she spoke, “I think I know so much sometimes…I got a healthy dose of ‘ohhellnoyoudonot’ on that runabout.  I was trying to make up for my stupidity.”

Ambrose pulled closer and took her hand in his, “You made up for a lot today, Cadet Harris.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead, “I’m just glad to have my sister back.  Again.”  They continued to talk into the evening as the Mackenzie raced for the outpost.

“Materials aren’t going to be hard to find; it’s getting them that’s going to be the challenge.”  Okada stood at the docking bay of the Mackenzie, her captain standing beside her as the port interlocked.  Cardamon stood behind them, his eyes quiet and his hands at his sides.  He wondered how these Federations managed to keep going with the loss and violence that seemed to surround them.

He shook his worries loose for the moment, “I may be able to assist in this.”  They turned to him as the dock locked in place, and the door groaned open, creaking as it went.  “I have some supplies in my shop.  I can also work to…what is your word…mediate with suppliers to get what you need.”

Ambrose regarded the Voth, “You sure?  When we left, you didn’t seem like you wanted to come back to work here.”

Cardamon looked at each of them as he spoke, “You are correct, Captain.  This is a place I don’t wish to return to – it is an empty shell of a home.  A wasteland.”  He let out a small sigh which sounded more like a hiss, “But you have proven your friendship to me in these last few days.  You must prove your worth to be considered a friend…or even family among the Voth.  It is a process.  Outsiders are rarely welcome or accepted.”  He gestured to the two of them, “You’ve shown me a different way since I came aboard.  It is a custom to repay. Consider my efforts a repayment.”

Okada deferred to the CO, and Harris gave him a bow, “Thank you, Cardamon.”  The Voth returned the bow and shuffled off onto the outpost.  To his XO, he shrugged, “We’ve still got some work to do.  I’ll make my report to the command team here.  See what you can find to help us.”  She nodded and was off.

Ambrose gripped the PADD as he made his way to the new Starfleet Operational office on the outpost.  It was still under construction but was looking better than it had when they’d been here two days ago.  He asked around and was directed to the command office.  He tapped the door chime and stood back, waiting for an answer.

The holo display cast a pale blue haze, accentuating the deep furrows in Mek’s brow. All Starfleet assets in the Delta Quadrant dotted the mesh of sectors, each represented by a shining arrowhead. Mek’s focus narrowed on one, “Still no word from the Ulysses…” he grumbled to himself. 

The door chime shook him from these thoughts, “Were we expecting anyone?” he turned to Kohl, who had been equally engrossed in operational developments. 

Andreus Kohl had his chin to his chest, scrolling quickly through a report on his PADD.  Kohl shook his head and he had to frown at the idea of a surprise visitor; such things were never welcome in the Delta Quadrant.  He swiped up the report one more time until he got to the sign off.

Without looking up from his PADD, Kohl said, “Honestly, I’m waiting for a certain lieutenant to scream at me that we haven’t secured enough blood dilithium for her to study.”  Then Kohl looked up at blinked at the holographic map.  “The USS Mackenzie is freshly docked, though.  Safe bet.”

“That Arcadian Lieutenant from the Sarek? She does seem quite abrasive. Promising research, though,” Mek had been extremely interested in the ship’s research on potential communication with the Blood Dilithium.  

Harris stepped into the office and found himself staring at two captains.  One was Erill’Yun Mek, and the other was Andreus Kohl.  The former was the commanding officer of Task Force 17, and the latter was the executive officer of the said task force.  He attempted to control his nerves.  “Captains, I have the latest from the Mackenzie.”  He stepped forward and set the PADD on the desk, unsure of who to hand it to first.

“Captain Harris,” Mek approached with hand extended, “Quite the journey you’ve been on. The intel you’ve given us on Devore movements has been invaluable. I trust the damage to the Mackenzie is nothing the Outpost can’t fix?”

Ambrose met the captain’s hand in a firm handshake, “I don’t think they’re going to let the Mackenzie back into Devore space anytime soon, sir.  As for our damage, my chief engineer is working on that angle at the moment.  We’ve got some help in that department.  He was a storekeeper on this station for quite some time until he volunteered to help guide us when we arrived.  A Voth named Cardamon.”

Kohl offered Ambrose a nod and his gaze drifted into the middle distance.  “You’ll benefit from any local knowledge Cardamon has to offer,” Kohl said.  “Just be sure to share the wealth, captain.”

“Yes,” Mek’s eyes wrinkled at the corners, “Rare to find someone so forthcoming in this neck of the woods. Although of all the places in the Delta Quadrant one could go looking, this Outpost is certainly not the worst.”

Harris nodded, “We got lucky, sirs.”  He paused and thought about how best to ask his question.  He decided straightforward was the order of the day.  “I…need…some advice.”  He went on to briefly detail what the Devore had done with the Harris Transport telepaths and the older of the Harris cousins – selling them to the Hirogen as hunting targets.  “Given our reception from the Devore…I expect the Hirogen will be far less accommodating in every way possible.”  He looked to both of them, “Do we attempt diplomacy, or do we go straight to blunt force trauma?”

As Harris proposed his options, Kohl visibly winced at the first option and winced harder at the second.  He looked to Mek deferentially.  “I never quite made it to the Delta Quadrant before this mission,” Kohl remarked, “but I don’t believe the Hirogen have a word for diplomacy.”

“The Hirogen have always been… Problematic,” Mek frowned, “Like so many things here, it’s best to stay out of their way. Unfortunately, it seems, Captain Harris, that your paths must cross. All I can say is make sure you’ve got something good to offer them,” he thought about expanding on this; of detailing the Hirogen’s relentless pursuit of Voyager and their eventual alliance against the Borg, but of that he was sure Harris was already aware. 

Ambrose contemplated Captain Mek’s answer.  “I’ll see what we can find to offer them.  Diplomacy out here, like everything else, means an unorthodox approach.”  He gave each man a nod, “We’ll get to work.”

Kohl inclined his head to the left.  “The Hirogen never sympathize with their prey.  It may not be diplomacy so much as corralling them in the path of larger prey.  …Maybe the Borg or a subspace rift that growls.”

“Could never accuse them of not being ready for a challenge,” Mek mused, “Whatever your path, Captain Harris, good luck to you and the crew of the Mackenzie.” 

Harris walked out the door, his mind spinning in every direction.  They needed to offer the Hirogen something.

“That ship’s probably done more Delta Quadrant lightyears by now than half the fleet combined,” Mek muttered to Kohl, “What a chase.”  

Okada worked her way from one end of the outpost to the other, searching for the various pieces to her repair puzzle.  It wasn’t just the hull that needed replacement – it was the conduits, the bio-neural connections, and everything in between.  She’d secured half of what she needed as she’d traveled, making various deals in trade for certain things she wouldn’t need in the long term.  Now she was coming up short on the hull pieces, and for that, she had been reassured by Cardamon that, yes, he could find replacements for the hull pieces that had been destroyed.

She had gone looking for the Voth, and as she rounded a corner, she found him in a heated conversation with another Voth.  This one looked taller and more built.  And angrier.  The XO didn’t hesitate.  She walked casually up to the two, “Cardamon.”  She gave him a respectful bow and turned to the taller Voth, “Commander Okada Katsumi, USS Mackenzie.”

“Larsak.  High Commander of the Voth Expeditionary Force.  I understand Secretary Cardamon has been serving as a guide of sorts for you and your…Federation.”

Cardamon attempted a sheepish look, but it looked more like he was offended.  He growled, “That was seventy-five years ago, Larsak.  I left.”

“The position of Arms Secretary is not an elected position.  It is passed down…you cannot…what is the human word…abdicate!  We don’t have such a word in our language!”  He gestured to the human, “You cannot be helping them.  We’ve heard the reports – these Federations are causing all kinds of trouble with all the wrong people.”  Larsak turned to face the XO, “You upset the Devore Imperium.  When they are upset…they take action against everyone.  You throw off the balance of this quadrant by being here, Commander.”

Okada felt her eyebrows raise, “The rules of this place are not easy to navigate for us, High Commander.  We’re trying our best to….”

Larsak shouted at her, “You’re not trying hard enough, Commander.”  He spun on Cardamon, “We’ve managed well enough without you in these past years, but no one has been able to master the responsibilities as you did.  You are coming with me, and you will return to your required position.”

Cardamon backed away from the larger Voth, “I long ago abandoned the path and the way of our people.  I left because I could not pursue the bloodshed and violence that I would have to undertake.  I am not that Voth anymore.”

“Then you will die.”

Okada realized what was about to happen and threw herself into the smaller Voth as the disrupter fire blasted into her, throwing both of them across the floor, skidding into a wall with a whimper.  Shouts, klaxons, and weapons fire echoed around her as the world spun slowly at first, then faster and faster until she could stand the pain and heaviness no longer.  She closed her eyes, and the world abruptly flickered to black.

Jordan did her rounds on both Lieutenant Moore and Cadet Harris.  Moore was improving to a degree, yet the injuries weren’t healing as quickly as she would have hoped or liked.  She’d sent samples off to the various science teams onboard to see what they could find.  Cadet Harris was a better story, and there was a good chance she’d be ready for duty tomorrow.  The others were moving up and out of their various stages.

=^=Markonian Outpost to Mercy Sickbay – we have a medical emergency with one of yours.  Transport to our location.=^=

Reid didn’t even wait.  She ran to a console and sent the transporter request.  Seconds later, she was gone in a flash of light.

And reappeared in a very in-progress sickbay.  A Starfleet medical officer waved her over, “Commander Okada Katsumi was shot by a Voth disruptor moments ago.  She was protecting a Voth from another.  The suspect has been arrested and is being investigated as we speak.”  He led her to the biobed, “We’ve stabilized her, but she’s going to need intensive care.  Her vitals are all over the place, and we’re not sure why.  Whatever he shot her with was meant for a Voth physiology, and we’re still trying to catch up on the species makeup of this quadrant.”

Jordan accepted a tossed medical tricorder and did a quick scan, “This looks like another patient of mine…only she was shot by a Devore weapon.  Is she safe to transport?”

The doctor shook his head, “That’s why I called you here.  The transporter filters out things…and I was worried that whatever she got shot with…if it got caught up in the biofilter, it could do serious harm depending on how attached it is to her or even inside her.”

She had to agree with him, “Right.  We’ll manually transport her.  I’ll get my triage and trauma team over here, and we’ll take it from here.”  The busy doctor thanked her and was moving on to the next case.  Reid made her calls, and as soon as the crew arrived, they began to accelerate the process of getting her ready to move and then moving her as quickly as possible to the dock with the Mackenzie.

They arrived in Sickbay in a calculated rush, moving the XO intensive care, where the trauma and triage team went to work.  They moved her off the mobile monitoring systems and transferred her to the Mackenzie’s sickbay systems.  Samples were taken, readings were made, and continued stabilization orders were written.  Doctor Reid worked seamlessly with her team as they tersely spoke orders, reports, and progress updates as they went.  They all knew Okada – her ascension to the role of XO had helped keep the crew together in the days aboard the Eddie.  She had been invaluable in ensuring the culture of the Mack fit into the same mold as the previous assignment.  The orderlies took the samples and readings and walked them to the science team down the hall.

Reid pulled her up her stood beside Okada.  Her eyes flitted open, seeing the Chief Medical Officer and the world around her for the first time.  “Am I…dead?”  She was weak, and the pain was slashing around the inside of her body like a wild samurai.  “It hurts like…hell.”

Reid slipped a hypospray into her hands and measured out the pain medicine, “You’re alive, Chief.  Let me see what I can do about the pain.”  She pressed it against the neck of the XO, pressed it, and waited a moment until the tight focus slowly faded from her patient’s face.

“That’s…a lot better.  Thank you, Doc.”  Okada shook her head, “I still don’t feel right….even with the pain dulled, there’s something there.”

Jordan confirmed, “We’re not quite sure what it is, but between the Devore hand weapons and the Voth – they’re having unintended effects on the human body.  We’ve got science working on it.  I can slow it down, but I’ll have to slow your body…stasis is the only surefire way to bring this thing to as much as a full stop as I can manage.”

“That doesn’t sound fun.  You’re going to be short an XO.”  Okada grimaced, “Although if it stops whatever this is…I’m not going to fight it.  I’d rather live, Doc.”

Jordan nodded, “Your assistant chief engineer is in similar trouble.  We put her in stasis this morning.”

The Chief Engineer’s eyes went wide, “That’s not good.  You need a chief.”

“Captain Harris was a chief once.  He can do it again.  Plus – you said so yourself – you’d rather live.”

Okada closed her eyes, the absence of light bringing her a measure of relief.  There were no good choices in the Delta Quadrant.  “OK.  I don’t like it.  And I don’t want it….but I need it.  Make it happen, Doc.”

Reid stood, made notes on her PADD, and handed it to the team she had called to the bedside, “Same as Greer.  Take care with her…she’s a bundle of nerves.”  The team went to work.  Jordan stepped aside and tapped her badge, “Doctor Reid to Captain Harris – You’re needed in sickbay for an update.”  He replied that he was on the way.  Glancing at Okada as the work began to put her in stasis, she had to wonder – how could they protect against such an enemy?

“…I'm not sure we can leave the outpost without senior engineering officers.  We're going to be going up against Hirogen, and they tend to shoot first and not even ask questions later.  They tend to take bones as tribute.  Chief Okada is one of the best.  Assistant Chief Moore is capable of filling her shoes for a short time.  Having both of them out…is trouble at best and dangerous at worst.”  Ambrose spoke as he sat in Jordan's office in sickbay.  She'd been walking him through the various updates with both officers and that the stasis scenario was slowing the infection to near zero.

She gestured to him, “You are a former chief of engineering.”

Ambrose gave an exasperated sigh, “You can't command engineering and a starship at the same time, Jordan.  Same if you became the CO - you can't run a sickbay and the center chair at the same time.  Especially with what we're facing.”  He shook his head, “I don't think we're going to be able to get to them in time.”

Reid stared at him, “Ambrose - you are the captain of this ship.  You have a responsibility to this crew and to the mission that we're on out here.”  She shook her head as he sat up in his chair to protest her words, “We're here to help.  I will do the work with Fowler's help to get our people cured and back to work.  You need to figure out how we can get the rest of our people back from the Hirogan.”

Harris regarded her for a moment, parsing his words in his head before he let them loose.  “You're certainly never lost for the words that need saying, Jordan.”

A cackle escaped her lips, “Long as I live - if there's something that needs saying so someone can hear it - I'm not going to remain silent.  Part of why we are who we are to each other.”

He stood, holding up the PADD, “I am learning to get better at hearing you - you hold me accountable in the ways I need."  He headed for the door and turned to her, "I'll do my part.  You and Chief Fowler do yours.  We need to figure out how to stop this from happening.  We've faced Devore and Voth weapons - we need to be ready for whatever the Hirogan throw at us.”

As he left, she returned her attention to the reports from Fowler.  She grabbed her PADD and headed for the labs.

Fowler was frowning.  She'd been frowning for half an hour as she'd been working through the samples and scans that had been coming in from sickbay.  The lab's scientists had been studying the details of what had happened to Moore and Katsumi.  There were varying theories as they worked, but nothing had translated to a hypothesis, much to everyone's frustration.  They'd sequenced the DNA of both officers and pulled samples from before they were attacked.  There'd been no significant changes to suggest that was the cause.  They'd next examined a viral component.  Nothing.  They were not sick or unwell - something was slowly trying to kill them, but the trouble was they couldn't identify the cause or the variables involved.  It was a wild goose chase, but the goose wasn't going anywhere - they were having to run around as if they were the goose themselves.

The door to the lab swished open, and Doctor Reid stepped in, PADD in hand.  “I've been reading through the reports.  What about bacteria?"

Sadie motioned to the gathered group, “They're starting that scenario next.”  She glanced at Jordan, “I heard stasis is helping.”

“Yes, it is.  The trouble is we're short of senior engineering leadership.  Given that our next stop is a notoriously feisty group, we're going to need all the engineering help we can get.”

Fowler chuckled mildly, “I think that's the first time I've heard the Hirogen described as ‘feisty’.  I can understand the worry.  So far, we're two-for-two with weapons designed to hurt us hard.  I'm not saying it's a pattern, but you have to wonder."  She tapped at the console, “I'm starting to worry we're not going to find an answer.”

Reid understood her worry, “You're not alone, Lieutenant.  I brought additional samples for you.”  She handed over the case, “Pull who you need to find the answer to this - Chief Science Officer gives you plenty of leeways to reassign as you see fit.”

Fowler gave her a nod of thanks as she left.  She felt the stress building in her shoulders as she returned her eyes to the screen in front of her.  There were so many possibilities out here in this strange place, and to attempt to run all of them down in the limited time they had was giving her plenty of cause to worry.  She picked up the container and walked with it over to her scientists.

Two hours had passed, and Fowler had amassed more science officers in the laboratory as the various screens filled with streaming data, scenarios that were testing, and the ongoing table of results.  They had eliminated most of the suspects early on.  They'd settled on a bacterial infection, but the scans and tests were missing something important, and they'd retraced their steps several times in order to figure out where things had gone wrong.

Fowler stood in the gathering as they went through the reports from each team.  They had taken every piece of the blood work and scans into the computer to put it up against any kind of known bacterial infection. The computer did the same thing each time with the same harsh beep.  No results found.  On the last round, she'd slammed her fists into the counter in frustration.  “What the hell are we looking for?”

Silence held for a moment before one of the science officers opened her mouth and then closed it again as her eyes searched the air in front of her for the words.  She found them, “What if it's not something we're looking for?”  Fowler gave her a ‘what the hell do you mean’ look, and the officer explained, "We're strangers here in the Delta Quadrant.  We've been talking a lot about Voyager's mission as a reference point…but that was 25 years ago.  Lots of us weren't even born yet.  In 25 years, things change.  New paths of migration, new technology develops, and new ideas on warfare are drafted.  What if it's something we haven't seen before…or even know what we're looking for?'

Fowler started at the woman who looked as if she might throw up or apologize, given the lack of response from her Chief.  Sadie reassured her, “God…you're right.  We've been looking at this all wrong.  We have to find the unknown.  Strange new worlds.  Strange new biologies.” She snapped her finger, “OK, crewman…?”

“Babcock, ma'am.  Science Crewman Mary Lou Babcock.”

“Ok, Crewman Babcock - let's start from scratch.  I'm going to find Cardamon and bring him down here.  He might have some answers.”  She looked the gathered team, “Let's get to saving some lives, people.”

Cardamon sat in the corner of the laboratory, his clawed hands gripped together in his lap, a look of worry and concern passing across his face as Fowler described what they had decided was possible and what help he could offer.  He looked everywhere but into the eyes of the science chief and had every appearance of wanting to flee from the conversation.  Fowler waited for a response to her question, but he remained silent and stared at the floor.  “Cardamon…”

He looked and met her gaze, “I didn't think it was true.”  He shook his head, sadness filling his eyes, “I had heard rumors of weapons being developed to cause long-term harm to others.  I didn't think it was true.”  His claws remained tightly grasped, “The rumor was that it wasn't being developed by one species or group.  That it was being developed by someone else.  I never heard more than that…and I hadn't heard anything in the last year.  I thought it was a joke…or someone's big dream that would never come true.”  He sighed with what sounded like a snarl but was a sob, “I didn't think it was true.”

Fowler felt for the Voth.  He had known them only three days, and in that time, he had formed such a fast and firm connection with them.  His shame was palpable.  “You couldn't have known.”  She wanted to comfort him, but he'd curled inwards in his regret and sadness.  She turned to the team, “We need to get the weapon that was used on the commander.  That's the key to figuring out what…caused this.”  Two of the officers volunteered to work with Chief Kondo and headed out of the lab.  Sadie tapped her badge, “Counselor to Science Lab 1.”  She hoped Juliet could help the Voth.  The fate of not just the Mackenzie hung on his information - indeed, the Fourth Fleet would live or die on his knowledge.

Juliet sat across from the Voth, who had not changed his stance much from when she had arrived in the office they'd moved him to - he was withdrawn, claws interlocked and staring at the floor.  “So, Secretary Cardamon.”

His head snapped up, a look of fear and anger tightening his clenched jaw.  “It was a long time ago, Lieutenant Woodward.”  He said it quietly as if the thoughts in his head were shouting him down, beating at his soul until he could take no more.

She tried again, “Arms Secretary sounds like somethin' interesting, at least.”

Cardamon stood and began to slowly pace the room, his claws clacking together as his eyes darted wildly around the room.  “It would not be so interesting if you knew what I did.”

The chief counselor remained seated, her posture open.  “I'm jus' makin' conversation, tryin' to get to know you.  I'm not a big wiggy officer - I hated my command classes.”  She leaned in the chair to catch a look at him, “I'm jus' a counselor.  Plain an' simple.”

The Voth stopped and stared at her for a moment, “Your accent is…maddeningly curious.”

Juliet chuckled, “It is a weird one, ain't it?  Family's all from the South, and I spent summers in Nawlins.  Put that together with a Montana drawl, and it's…well, downright confusin'.”  His look of confusion pushed her out of her chair to access the screen in the office.  With little trouble, she was soon walking the Voth through the various parts of the Southern sections of North America, with a finishing tour around Montana and the places she'd lived there.

He traced the outlines of the state that she had called home, “Mont…ana.  Montana.  It sounds like a place of wonder.”  Cardamon turned to her, “Would…I be able to visit this place someday?”

Woodward returned to her seat and gestured to the chair next to her, “Anythin' is possible.  I'll ask and see what I have to do to make it happen."  The Voth hesitantly sat next to her.  “Now, Arms Secretary.”

“You are like a…” he spoke a Voth phrase and consulted the PADD in his hands, tapping his clawed hands across the screen until he found it, “…ah yes, a dog with a bone.”  Juliet laughed.  He wasn't wrong.  She gave him a look, letting him know she as going to wait him out.  He growled a Voth curse and explained, “I was in charge of the operations, research, development, and implementation of Voth weapons.  I was ordained into the job at 20 years old after my uncle passed.  It took me five years of crafting weapons of war and murder before I couldn't do it any longer.  I fled my homeworld and never returned.  I had foolishly thought they had forgotten about me…or given up on trying to find me.”

“The guy who attacked you is in jail.”

The Voth shook his head slowly, “He will eventually be released, banned from the station…and then he'll report back to my people.  They will send more.  Or they will wait until I am alone.”  A small sigh escaped his lips, “Had I known this would have happened…I would never have asked to join you.  The way of my people is blood and violence, Lieutenant Woodward.  Even if you find a way to leave it behind…it returns with a vengeance.”

Juliet turned to face him, “Remember what I said, Cardamon.  Anythin' is possible.  We were sent here to do the right thing by those that need our help.  To ignore you or anyone else who calls out for assistance…would be…well, in Nawlins they'd call it Bad Hoodoo.  In Starfleet we call it dereliction o' duty.  We take it pretty seriously.”  She patted him gently on his leg, “We take you seriously, Cardamon.”

“How will I get past my…past?”

The counselor stood, “You will need to work on acceptin' the Cardamon of today - by acceptin' what led you here from back then.  We've all got things in our past that we regret or have shame about that haunt us.  We have to look at how we're workin' to be better at being us to others around us…and take consolation that we're working on bein' better than we were before.  There's a lot more to it, and it's not easy…but it's necessary.  I can help you work through these feelins' and find a path forward.”

Cardamon stood and joined her as she walked to the door, “I'd like that very much, Lieutenant Woodward.”

They’d requested to take the weapon to the Mackenzie, and that had been quickly denied.  They’d negotiated to be allowed to bring some equipment over and inspect the gun in the security office with an observer in the room to watch what they were doing.  The item was evidence in the investigation, and the chain of custody required preservation. Cadets Polson and Ode stood nervously at the table while the outpost security team placed the weapon before them and stepped back.  Chief Kondo hovered near them, “Let’s get to work.”

They began with a surface scan of the device with tricorders.  Both Paul Polson and Jenni Ode had been trained as forensic analysts as their specialty within the science department.  They had gone through the academy and been placed on the Mackenzie for their final six months of classes in August.  Paul was the taller of the two and the quieter.  Jenni was the inquisitive one who was always asking questions, poking, and prodding until she was satisfied with the answers.  She transferred the scans to her PADD, “The weapon’s energy signature is unusual.”  She tapped at the screen and set it on the table for Kondo and Polson to see, “Every weapon has one.  Phasers, disruptors, cannons.  With each type of weapon, you can see the energy pattern in either a wound or a physical impact on something.  We’ve done a lot of work with the weapons of the species back home from all corners.  This,” she gestured at the weapon, “doesn’t fit any of the profiles that we have records for – it’s significantly different from anything Voyager experienced as well.  Related, yes…but it’s an evolution in weapons design and application.”  She tapped at the PADD, “There’s something else.”  The screen showed a part of the weapon that was blinking red.”

Kondo looked closely at the image and then at the weapon, “The tricorder can’t tell what it does?”

Ode shrugged, “Sorta.  It’s identifying something…biological where something mechanical should exist.  It’s having trouble identifying the purpose of the mechanism because it doesn’t make sense.”

Paul pushed a cart over next to the table, “This might help.”  With the help of the outpost security, they placed the weapon in the tray of the scanning unit.  It slowly slid inside, and the computer began to scan, beeps and whirs swirling out of the unit.  Polson tapped at the console on the unit and waited, “This will do a far more intensive scan on the weapon. I’ve asked it to look, examine, and identify any biological elements within the gun.”

The security chief had been listening and watching.  He wondered, “What if this weapon…and others from the Devore…have been modified not just to injure the target…but kill them slowly?  The medical reports from the XO and the assistant chief are clear – whatever it is that’s affecting them is going to kill them eventually.”

Jenni followed his logic, “Someone out there is making and outfitting weapons for these species that target humans.  Someone knew we’d eventually come out here in larger numbers….and doesn’t want us out here.”

De La Fontaine countered, “They thought this would scare us away, send us running.  They had to have known we’d try and figure it out.  And then track them down.”

A shrug from the cadet as she wasn’t sure, “They may have already gone to ground – became a ghost in the darkness that we’ll never find.”

Kondo grumbled, “They do not know us very well.  We’re very tenacious people.”  

The computer beeped, and Paul tapped the console and sent the report to Jenni’s PADD.  She set it on the table for all to read once more, “The biological element in the weapon is indeed a bacterial agent.  As far as this can tell, it is a neurological infection that also attacks the pulmonary, cardiovascular, and, eventually, the skeletal system. Good god, this was manufactured.  There’s no way this is naturally occurring with this kind of…specificity targeted to so many of our body systems.”  She sighed, “We’d have to take a sample of the biological matter back to the Mackenzie to start working on a cure.”

The security chief asked, “How long?”

Paul spoke up, “Normally, it’s months.  This being abnormal, we’d work as fast as we could.”

Kondo turned to the two security officers, “Get your boss in here.  I need permission to take a sample from that chamber.”  They looked at him and then at each other.  One of them moved to speak and De La Fontaine stepped forward, “Get. Him.  Now.”

They quickly went and found their boss.

Sadie was startled awake, sitting straight up in her bed as she found her breaths coming heavy and hard, the sweat beading off her body as she slowly became aware enough of her surroundings.  She was in her quarters. It was the seventh day of working with the samples they had pulled from the weapon. In six days, they had come perilously close to a cure.  The Okada and Moore remained in stasis as they had worked, and the Mackenzie had remained close to the outpost, never traveling very far.  Harris had been unable to locate a replacement for Okada or someone from command to step aboard to assist him while he worked with engineering.

Fowler slid out of her bed and stumbled to the shower.  She had asked and received permission to install a water shower in her quarters.  There was something about the hot water that helped calm her nerves from the wild earthquake they had been.  She found listening to old earth classical music helped as she stood under the steaming water - her mind was able to gather traction in the flooded basin it had been desperately floating in since this adventure had begun.  It was here she did her best unorthodox thinking as if she was unlocking the secrets that were hiding in the dark corners of her mind.

Breakfast was scrambled eggs, bacon, and rye toast with a massive cup of coffee.  She'd fallen into the coffee habit and was finding peace in the contemplation as she drank from the mug.  Her nerves had nearly broken at the end of each day, and somehow the coffee, the hot water, and the breakfast managed to heal her frayed psyche.  She wondered if Juliet would have ideas on the cause and correlation.  That thought stayed with her as she slipped on her uniform and headed out the door.

“We've tried to reverse engineer it.  We've tried to test it.  We've tried to isolate it.  We've tried to copy it.  We've done everything I know how to do…and still, we've got nothing.”  Doctor Reid sat in the lab as the chrono on the wall clicked over to 0530 hours.  Fowler had walked in, and they'd gone to work to review the overnight crew's work and were unsurprised to find that very little ground had been gained.  Fowler had gone through the list of tests they were circling back to on third tries, and Reid had groaned and listed the things they had already done.  She continued, “I've asked Cardamon to reach out to anyone he knows who might have a clue….but he's not sure anyone's going to talk to him.  His attacker was released two days ago and exiled from the outpost.  Word's probably gotten out.”

Sadie leaned against the counter, “I don't think anyone's going to talk to us, never mind Cardamon.”  She turned to the console and started searching, “We've tried all the modern remedies, right?”  Reid nodded and moved to look over her shoulder, “There are a lot of old Earth medications and treatments.  Much of ours is based on it because that's how science works - we adapt, improve, and elevate our technology to meet the latest threats.  What if…something from then in its base form is what we need?”

Jordan was intrigued as she read through the history Fowler was looking at, “You're going way back, Lieutenant.  The methods and treatments from that time are ancient histories today.”  She considered, “Yet…the entirety of what our enemy knows about us is from recent history.  We have to think about the context - they knew Voyager and the medical abilities of the EMH and sickbay.”

Fowler nodded along with her, “So they based this bacterial infection on the modern medical and science systems - designed it to work around them and against them…so nothing we could throw at it would work, no matter how hard we worked.  Which would explain why we're on the seventh day of this.”  She looked at Reid, “This is a designer disease.  The Delta Quadrant continues to surprise.”

Doctor Reid pointed at the PADD, “Get a list started of the antibiotics of old.  We'll build a list of ten and test them.  Wake up the team.  This is going to take some time.”

The chrono on the wall clicked over to 1800 hours.  Cups of coffee littered the lab as the collection of science and medical officers worked tirelessly in the lab.  The screen displayed the various antibiotics that had been tested so far. Doxycycline, cephalexin, ciprofloxacin, clindamycin, metronidazole, and azithromycin.  Nothing had resulted.  Fowler tapped at the PADD and grumbled, “One last one. Penicillin.  The original.”  She tapped the medical replicator, and it quickly crafted the various versions of the antibiotic.  She passed them out to the teams, “One last run.”

The teams went to work as fresh cups of coffee were delivered, and the old cups were removed.  Silence ruled the room as each team tested, retested, noted, scanned, noted, rescanned, tested, and so much more.  An hour passed.  Another.  Fowler felt her frayed nerves reaching a breaking point as the chrono clicked over to 2000.

A shout, “I've got it!  I'VE GOT IT!”  Fowler jumped from her station and ran across the room, and slid to a halt behind the voice, staring at the screen.  The last seven days had only resulted in a flashing red result - failure after failure.  The screen in front of her flashed the most beautiful color she had ever seen.  A flashing green result.  Success.  She tapped the console to check the results.  Another flash of green.  They'd done it.  She shouted in the affirmative, and the entire science lab broke out in cheers and applause, a cathartic release of seven full days of stress, anxiety, fear, and worry.

They had found a cure.

“I expect Commander Katsumi to be fully recovered within 48 hours, and Lieutenant Moore will be evaluated in 72 hours.”  Jordan sat on the couch in the ready room, PADD in hand.  “We had to produce penicillin by hand in the end - the replicated quality wasn't doing the job.  I've ordered the lab team on a mandatory 24-hour rest.  Fowler asked to take a nap and return to the bridge as soon as we were in motion.  I accepted the compromise, for now.”  She indicated the next item on the PADD, “The trade of the Harris Transport Aerie class with the Hazari was completed three days ago with the help of Cardamon's assistance.  In the absence of the Hazari ship, we were able to procure something similar that went a long way in getting the Harris Transport crew released into our custody.  Commodore Y'mar told us if we are ever in need of a bounty hunter contract, they are available.  He did make it clear they would not go near the Hirogen.”

Harris could understand, “I don't want to go near the Hirogen.”  He shook his head, “I don't even know if they're still alive, Jord.”  Reid had taken on some of the responsibilities that her friend and XO had.  One of those duties was sitting with the captain and discussing anything and everything.

Reid glanced at the report she'd been presenting.  The good news was often offset or upset by the bad news.  The Delta Quadrant seemed to relish in the bad news delivery. “I can't be the optimist I would be in the Alpha Quadrant.  This place is the domain of pessimism.  It's hard to think that they'd have kept them alive this long.  I don't want to think like that, but realism is another friend we're having to get acquainted with out here.”

“You ever wonder what the likes of Archer, Kirk, or Sulu would have done out here?”  She glanced up at his question.  He shrugged off her look of confusion, “We learned in the academy about those early days of the Federation through the first five years of the Enterprise and beyond.  It was such an…unknown galaxy.  Around every corner were strange new worlds and new civilizations that either wanted to hug us or kill us.  Never mind the monsters and creatures they ran into along the way.”

Jordan mused, “Out here, nobody wants to hug us.  Maybe hug us to death.  Lots of death out here.”

Harris ignored her sarcasm, “You read through the mission files of those men and women.  Those early days…you never knew if you were going to make it home with everything that was out there in the frontier.” He stood from his chair and grabbed a steaming chai from the replicator, and sat down next to Jordan.  “They were always so far away from Earth sometimes - warp travel wasn't as fast…or simple.  You had to really believe in your senior officers and the crew…believe that they would get you home.”  He glanced out the window behind him, “We're here because we have to be…because we're called to do what needs to be done.  I know it's me in the center chair…and I am no Captain Archer…Kirk, or Sulu…but I think what keeps me from giving up is that they never did.  The crews of those ships are legends because no matter how hard it was…they kept going.”

Reid sipped at the coffee she had poured, “Janeway was here 25 years ago.  That crew made it home.  They survived this place.  If that group of humans and aliens could find a way to make it…I think we've got a chance.”

Ambrose let a sly smile cross his lips, “I'll make you my chief optimist yet.”  Her eye roll gave him his answer.

The bridge chrono ticked over to 1600.  They had gathered their data, collected what the Hazari had observed regarding Devore ships dropping off prisoners to the Hirogen, and were now flying through space towards a possible drop-off point.  Harris walked the bridge slowly, checking with each officer as he made his way back to where Sadie Fowler sat, eyes glued to the screen as she adjusted the sensors while the readings streamed in.  Two fresh science officers were on either side of her.  A steaming mug of coffee was in one hand while her other hand adjusted the console.  “There is a lot of interference out here.”  She had managed six hours of sleep, but it hadn't been quite enough.  The coffee was helping.  She glanced at her two science officers, “I'm having a time getting a look through this muck.”  Both of them quietly agreed while continuing to tune the sensors as best as they could.  She took a long sip of her coffee and nearly jumped up in excitement as the picture slowly cleared, “Now we're getting somewhere.  There!  That's a Devore warp signature….and recent!  It leads…directly into the hunting grounds.”  She turned to Harris, “It'll take us two days to get to the edge of the hunting ground.  While we're in transit, I'll work on getting us a picture of what's in front of us.”

Harris thanked her, “Let's put it into motion.  Helm, plot us an intercept course and engage.”  The Mackenzie changed course and thundered onto the edges of the hunting grounds.

The chrono on the bridge slid into 0800 as the ship's calendar showed November 13th.  Harris stepped onto the bridge and gave a nod to Okada as she stood from the command chair, “You are relieved, commander.”

Her smile was broad, wide, and as bright as any sun.  She'd been returned to limited duty two days ago. Reid had been meticulously persistent in her recovery. Today was her first full day of duty, and she'd not stopped smiling.  Harris wasn't about to stop her.  She beamed, “I stand relieved, sir.”   She nearly bounced up and into the turbolift.  Ambrose hoped her assistant would be bouncing around soon - her condition had been more challenging in rehabilitating.  Moore had been frustrated by her slow progress, and the chief counselor had been ordered to assist in the process.

Prentice spoke up from his station at the front of the bridge, “We are arriving at the edge of the Hirogen Hunting Grounds, sir.  Coming to an all stop."

Harris returned to the center chair, “Yellow alert.”  If they had learned anything, it was that the Delta Quadrant didn't play fair.  Ever.

Fowler downed another cup of coffee as she reported what she had, “The Devore warp trail continues into Hirogen territory for a little longer…but then it stops…and circles back the way it came.  Looks like we have a definite drop point.”

Harris stared at the blackness of space ahead of them.  Out there somewhere was either his cousin and the empathetic crew alive…or what was left of them.  He hadn't spoken to his younger cousin, who remained in the brig under guard and supervision.  He had ignored the impulse to visit him, and he had begun to wonder if he'd made the right choice.  He let out a small sigh.  They needed to know for sure.  “Helm, plot us a course to the intercept point.  Be ready to get us right back out of there.”  Prentice nodded from his station as he input the navigational commands.  Ambrose paused in his order to engage.  Whatever came next was in the hands of him the Mackenzie crew.  If it came to it, surviving the Hiorgen would take everything they had

They were nearing the drop-off waypoint.  The yellow lights cast a pallor on the bridge as all eyes remained singularly focused on stations, from tactical to science to engineering to communications.  Harris sat forward in the command chair, his hands steepled deep in thought.  He'd studied the files from Voyager when it came to the Hirogen and the additional background that Task Force 17 had sent when they'd arrived in the Delta Quadrant.  The advice he'd received from his meeting with the CO and XO had given him one solution - have something the Hirogen want.

Which he still hadn't figured out.  He'd thought of technology they could hand over without too much trouble.  Where others might be thankful for something to improve their life, the Hirogen didn't care about any of that.  They thrived on the hunt as nomads of a scattered kingdom, hungry for the blood of their prey.

Atega was monitoring every band of communication the computer could pick up.  She had learned early in her academy days that once forgotten or abandoned technology had a habit of returning to use in the strangest of places.  There was nothing.  She kept scanning. Usually, there was something, anything out here.  Presley turned to face the captain, “Sir, I'm not detecting any kind of signals….at all.  It's completely silent out there.”

Sadie reported similar results from science, “I'm detecting plenty of debris in the immediate area and beyond, but there's nothing active within short range.  We're working on long range now.”  The board looked uncomfortably clear, and she was worried about what was keeping it so quiet.

Ambrose tapped at his armchair console, “My wondering is if there's more than one drop-off point.  The Devore Imperium is a pretty vast part of the Delta Quadrant.”

Cardamon was working on his PADD when he suddenly looked up and turned to Harris, “Captain…we need to leave this space.  Immediately.”

“Context?”

The Voth shuddered, “Do not ask how I know this…or how I am able to do this…but the Hirogen are coming.  And we need to find a place to hide. Quickly, Captain.”  

His stubborn insistence broke through the CO's usual questioning nature, who turned to the helm, “Lieutenant Prentice - find us somewhere to hide.”

William quickly tapped at the console and scanned the area, “There's a nebula just at the edge of this sector.  Sensors won't pick us up.”  Harris nodded at him, and the Mackenzie slid through space until it slipped into the bright blue nebula, vanishing from sight.  Prentice took his time and rotated the ship, so they were facing where they had just left.  “We're in position.”

Harris turned back to his Voth passenger, “You need to tell me how this works.  Now.”

Cardamon sighed, “In our early days, after we separated from our space-faring brothers…we stumbled into Hirogen territory.  It was so long ago all we have are the legends as they were told from father to son.  Thousands of years, probably.  My ancestors developed an early warning sensation whenever the Hirogen was near.  It saved us..and eventually, we were able to flee the hunting grounds forever.  It has been a long time…but we were taught in our schools about this,” he spoke a guttural Voth word and seized his PADD to search for the right word.  “Ah, yes.  Evolution.  Survival of the fittest.”  He went silent for a moment and then looked hard at his new friend, “I have had a thought.  It is not a good thought….but would help you.” Ambrose gestured for him to continue.  “You said they told you to bring something that the Hirogen wants.”  Cardamon looked to the screen, “They want prey.  They want the hunt.” He turned back to Harris, “The Voth that I come from are warriors who seek a glorious battle…a fight soaked in the blood of the enemy."

Prentice turned in his chair to face the two, “Is that…legal?  I mean…how are we going to get your Voth to the Hirogen?  We can't lie…can we?"  The bridge was silent as the question hung in the air, waiting for an answer.

Kondo had been listening and feeling frustration building up in his chest.  He countered, “There is no law in the Delta Quadrant.  It's a collection of tyrants, pirates, bounty hunters, and killers.  Nobody we've encountered has been interested in our version of the law.  They are the law.  We are the law.  The law depends on who holds the biggest phaser or disruptor or…well, you get my meaning.”

Cardamon gestured to the security chief, “He gets it!  You cannot hope to use diplomacy here, Captain.  You will have to lie, cheat, and steal your way to whatever it is that you need.”

Harris had a question, “Are there any good aliens in the Delta Quadrant?”

The Voth replied dryly, “They are either dead…or doing a very good job of staying hidden, out of sight and away from everybody else.  They exist, Captain…but they are not interested in making themselves too known.”

There were light chuckles around the bridge, and Harris smiled, “We'll have to change how we approach this, then.  Cardamon, how do we get the Voth Warriors in play?”

He sat back on his chair, “I believe I have an idea.  You are not going to like it.”

Ambrose was curious, “Why?”

“You're going to have to lie.  A lot.  And try and kill me.”

“You were right.  I am not going to like this.  I don't have any better ideas, so let's hear this idea.”

“Detecting a Devore transport ship entering the sector…with two escorts,”  Kondo reported and felt on edge.  They were working out the plan to bring the Voth here, but it would require every element to work perfectly.  Now they were staking out the delivery of empaths to the Hirogen from the Devore.  It all felt wrong.

Harris sat forward in the chair, “Anybody else in play?”  After consulting with science, Kondo shook his head.  The CO tapped the arm of the command chair listlessly, “Ensign Atega - anything out there?”

Presley was working her console, earpiece in place.  There was suddenly a burst of communications activity across the sector, “The Devore are transmitting a signal in all directions…the rough translation is that ‘the cattle have arrived'.  God.”  She sucked a breath in as the message repeated, “They're signaling the Hirogen.  No response yet.”

Ambrose stared at the nebula that surrounded them.  They were able to see out, but no one could see in.  It was keeping them safe.  He now had an additional concern - the empaths that were being readied for transport to the Hirogen.

Fowler spoke from her station, “Sensors detecting 20 life signs on the transport that are not Devore, sir.  Some are strong, but others are reading in various states of seriousness.”  Her eyes searched the screens filled with results, “I'm picking up some human readings with Betazoid.”

The air in the bridge felt as if it had been sucked out in an instant.  All eyes turned to the viewscreen and the captain in the center chair.  Harris continued to tap on the arm of his chair, “Verify, Lieutenant Fowler.”  Seconds passed as she ran the scan again.  A few more seconds as she verified the readings.  A simple nod was her answer as she turned to the bridge.  “Well…that changes things.  Mr. Kondo, Red Alert.  All hands to battle stations.  Mr. Prentice, prepare to break loose from our cover.”  The alert alarms blared throughout the ship as the yellow faded into ruby red.  Officers shifted stations and left the bridge to be replaced by others, as this was repeated across the Excelsior II class ship.  The battle bridge was also staffed in case of saucer separation. It took less than a minute.

Tir, the operations chief, affirmed, “All stations secured to battle stations, sir.”

Ambrose stared at the screen, “Let's start the party.  Engage, Mr. Prentice.”

The Devore ships were startled to see the smooth features of the USS Mackenzie slip out of the nebula and glide towards them, shields raised and weapons armed.  Calls for the same echoed across the three ship's command modules as the lumbering starship grew closer and closer.  Then it simply sat, staring at the three ships.

Harris waited a minute before asking, “Hail them, Ensign Atega. Inform them we will be taking custody of their prisoners and relieving them of their duty to the Hirogen.”

Atega tapped out the message and spoke into her headset, and stabbed the transmit button.  She watched the text and audio message transmit through space and hit each ship's communication array.  She waited for a response.  She waited a little longer.  “Sir, they are not responding.”  Presley felt her heart beat a little faster.  They were really going to do this.  They were going to fight the Devore.  And possibly the Hirogen.

“I didn't think they would.  Chief Kondo - how hard would it be to knock out the shields on the transport?”

De Le Fontaine did a quick scan and some math in his head, “It would take maybe four shots of our phasers to shatter the shield power grid. I can pinpoint the locations to target.  The trouble will be…,”

Harris finished the thought, “…is the two escorts.  I suspect it'll take more than just four phaser shots to bring them to heel?”  His tactical chief confirmed it and outlined the required firepower needed.  The Mackenzie had such firepower, but they would be running against the already running clock counting down to the arrival of the Hirogen.  Ambrose thought out loud, “We could give them two targets.”  

Calog Tir glanced up from his station, “Saucer section could go after the transport, and the warp drive section could go to work on the two escorts.”  The CO looked to each of his senior officers on the bridge, and they confirmed they could do it.

Ambrose spoke quickly, “Alert all decks; we're engaging saucer separation.  Computer, activate the ECH.”  The image of Rachel McKee appeared.

“Please state the matter of the command emergency.”  Harris quickly filled her in as the alarms and klaxons rang throughout the ship.  She gave a nod, “We'll ensure their safe return, Captain.”  Kondo remained at his station, as did Prentice and Tir.  Fowler and Otega followed the captain into the turbolift, and the doors closed behind them.  Natalie Harris remained at the engineering station, her focus steady on the saucer section master situations display.

Across the ship, the crew shifted imperceptibly in their positions and placement.  Red Alert was one level of alert.  Battlestations was the next level.  The operations department had worked tirelessly on processes tied to the saucer separation scenario.  Working with each group, they were able to create a plan for when the need for a saucer separation occurred; the crew would be in the ready position to ensure a separation as quickly as possible.  In the seven days it had taken to find a cure, Calog Tir had been busy.  His failure early on to not account for the battle bridge had burned him.  His symbiont had chastised him every day and reminded him how foolish he had been.  They'd had a shouting match in his quarters so loud his neighbor had come over to check on him.  He had vowed not to make such an egregious error again.  Tir had been the one who had used the word, and he'd agreed with her for once.

The battle bridge crew had already moved to their stations as Harris and his crew entered.  He called out to Ensign Del Castillo at the helm, “Signal the bridge to engage separation operations.”  He glanced around the bridge.  The Mackenzie designers had lifted the model from an Akira Class ship.  Looking around, it reminded him of a slightly larger Defiant class bridge.  The Mackenzie's warp drive section still required a good-sized command center.

Gabriela alerted him, “Separation underway.”  The alarms and klaxons took on new urgency as the Mackenzie's neck connection to the primary hull thumped and then clicked with a thunderous boom.  The technology had come a long way since the days of the Enterprise D.  It had become an asset with many ships and less of a novelty in the early days.  A moment later, she confirmed, “Saucer is clear,” which they all saw on the screen as it pulled in front of the primary hull.  It was a sight to see.

Harris turned behind him to his communications chief, “Give them one more warning.”  He waited until she confirmed the message had been sent.  Thirty seconds passed.  No response.  He spoke to his assistant chief tactical officer, “Ensign Dalman target the two escort ships with phasers only.  Helm, put us between them and the transport if you can.”  The giant ship took each step forward with a thunderous roar from the impulse engines, closing the distance.  The two escort vessels seemed to hesitate as the primary hull drew closer.  Then they spooked and opened fire.  “Return fire.”

The ECH was a lot of things.  It was Rachel McKee and everything she had been in Starfleet.  It also held records and actions of as many command officers in the history of Starfleet in its databanks. From Archer to Kirk to Garrett to Picard to Sisko to Janeway and back again, it was a comprehensive compilation of the best commanding officers the fleet had to offer over the years.  She was a bit of an experiment, and within her cognitive mainframe, this was a known factor in every action she made, order she gave, or even word she spoke.  “Lieutenant Prentice, evasive maneuvers - get us close to the transport ship.  Tactical - let's see about your plan.”

Kondo tapped at the console, reviewing one last time the targets that would be hit in an effort to overload the shield generators.  “We're ready, Commander”  The two escorts directed some of their fire at the saucer, but Cadet Harris reported the shields were holding.  Kondo hoped they'd continue to hold.  “Firing phasers in attack pattern Gamma Shield.”  The sound of the saucer phasers firing at four intervals sounded as he watched the readings.  And like that, the transport ship's shields were down.

McKee had already ordered a security team to the transporter room earlier after the escapade that had previously threatened to take the Mackenzie over.  “Lower shields and engage transporters.”  Prentice went to work as he pushed the impulse engines and maneuvering thrusters in order to slip and slide the saucer away from errant and targeted fire from the two escorts.  The primary hull was matching them pound for pound.  Will was impressed with his fellow helm officer on the battle bridge.  He'd given her lots to study and simulations to run in the seven days they'd been on hold.  She'd done her homework.

Dogukan braced himself against the tactical console in front of Harris as he continued to use the phasers on the primary hull, “Shields at 80%.  We've managed to disable one ship's torpedo weapon, but they're not giving up easily.”

Another torrent of torpedo fire from the other escort impacted the primary hull, and Harris sighed, “Update on the secondary hull?”

Atega held her right hand to her ear, “They've got half of them transported and cleared.  Working on the second half now.”  The small bridge shuddered with further impacts.  Fowler reported shields were down to 70%. 

Del Castillo pushed the Mackenzie closer to the two Devore escort ships, pushing the bulk of the secondary hull into their weapons fire, taking the hits intended for the unshielded saucer section.  The bridge shook, and several empty consoles flickered and sparked as the Devore took out their frustration with increasing ferocity.  A shout that shields were at 60%.

Ambrose shook his head, “I've had enough of this.  Ensign Dalman, arm torpedoes.  Fire at will.”

The tactical officer grinned widely.  He'd been waiting for that order, “With pleasure, sir."  He turned to Gabriella on his left, “Ensign, shall we dance?” Del Castillo gave a hearty nod as her hands ran across the console.  They'd been pulling their punches.  It was time for the gloves to come off and the fists to fly.  Dogukan targeted the engines of both ships, ”Helm, I need a direct fire solution course on target Devore 1."  She gave a nod as she shifted the primary hull into a hard turn.  Five bright orange torpedoes were flung from the Mackenzie.  The battle bridge crew unconsciously held their breath as the five points of destructive energy traveled the distance and slammed into the Devore escort vessel.  Dalman reported, “Engines disabled…they're not going anywhere.”  The bridge shook again as the remaining Devore ship responded in kind.  This time all the lights flickered.  Shields were at 50%.  They were regenerating, but the escort ship had found several regeneration points and was slowly pounding away at them.  The tactical officer grumbled, “One more to go.  Ensign Del Castillo - let's do this one more time.”

Prentice reported, “Transporter room reports they've got them all, Commander.”  

McKee took milliseconds to consider the next steps as she watched the primary hill taking a pasting. “Shields up.  Chief Kondo, I understand we have two torpedo launchers in the neck of the saucer.  You have my permission to use them, Lieutenant.”

Del Fontaine chuckled, “We'll even the score, Commander.  Prentice, get me within range here.”  He sent a target to the helm chief and got a nod in response as the saucer section suddenly flew straight up and then dove down towards the fray.  Kondo targeted the second Devore ship and went to work.  Phasers crisscrossed the ship's shields, and he could see the flare reacting. He lined up the two forward tubes and hurled four torpedoes directly into the attacking ship as fire and explosions rocked the hull.  The saucer section circled as if on a dime as the inertial dampeners grumbled under the pressure Prentice was putting into them.  The tactical chief gave the helm chief an appreciative smile as he lined up two more fiery blasts from the tubes and let them loose.  A moment later, he confirmed, “We've disabled all three ships.  Captain Harris reports the primary hull's shield are at 45% and regenerating.  They suggest we return the Mackenzie to one piece.”

The hologram Rachel gave a nod, “Mr. Prentice, begin the process of connecting us back together.”

Jordan Reid worked through the group as security cleared each of them in the transporter room.  They were bloodied, beaten, and broken.  Her triage and trauma team was moving each of them to a mobile biobed in the hallway outside the transporter room.  Each of the survivors was in various stages of tears as they were triaged with care.  More of the medical teams filled the hallway as biobeds were needed for each of the twenty they had rescued.  Water was handed out with great abandon as the thirst had gone beyond parched for them.  Each of them had imagined the end as the Devore ships had come to a halt and the beatings commenced.  The Devore had said it was to, “Soften them up for the Hirogen,” but each of them knew it had nothing to do with it.  It was just the abject cruelty of the Devore and their hate of all telepaths and empaths.

 As she worked to get names, she began to realize something as she was typing into the PADD.  The names started blinking on her PADD.  Breathlessly she tapped her badge, “Doctor Reid to Captain Harris…these are the remaining Harris transport crew.”

Harris stepped onto the bridge and spoke briefly with the ECH before accepting her report and saving her program.  The Mackenzie was back in one piece, and the three Devore ships hung out in front of them, disabled.  Reid’s revelation had given him pause as he had moved quickly from the battle bridge.  She was still working through the rosters from Harris Transport to confirm who was who.  The Hirogen were suspiciously absent, and Kondo was sitting at his console searching and scanning.  Fowler slid into her seat, her hands to console as she joined the chief of tactical in searching for the specter of the Hirogen.  The longer they didn’t appear, the tighter the air in the command center became.  Ambrose glared at the Devore ships as if they would explain everything that had happened if he simply stared them down.  “Ensign Atega, hail the two escort ships.”

Presley made the hail audio and text, waiting for a response.  Thirty seconds passed.  The timer clicked over a minute.  Still nothing.  Two minutes passed.  She glanced at the science station, and Fowler shook her head, “Both communications arrays are undamaged and fully functional.”

Ambrose sighed, “Diplomacy in the Delta Quadrant.  Can they repair the damage to the engines?”  He had turned to his sister, Cadet Harris.

She grimaced as she reported, “It would take days, sir.”

Kondo alerted him, “Captain, we’ve got incoming Hirogen ships.  Estimated arrival in thirty minutes.”

The bridge had developed this habit of going silent in the moments when Captain Harris was presented with an important decision.  Harris chewed on his bottom lip in consternation, “Chief Kondo – status of their shields?”

“Escort 1 and 2 are at thirty percent.  Transport’s shields are down.”

Ambrose turned to the bridge crew, “Options?”

Prentice was first, “We could leave them.  Let them face the Hirogen.”  He flushed red at his admission but held to it.

Atega put forth, “We could hit their shields…put them in the brig…take them home?”  In her world, all languages had value which meant every species had value – alive.

Calog flinched as Tir shouted at him to burn the Devore to the ground and salt the space they occupied.  He filtered out her rage, “As Federation Officers, we have a standard.”  He looked around the room, “I can’t imagine leaving someone to knowingly die.  The Hirogen are hunters first…nothing else matters to them.  They will hunt these Devore…or find a way to make them run from them.”

Natalie didn’t say anything.  It was a question that had no easy answers.  If they rescued the Devore, the Hirogen might hunt the Mackenzie.  The possibility of how the Devore would receive them was also pressing on each of them, she imagined.  None of the options were good.

Ambrose made his decision, “Ensign Atega and Lieutenant Tir make convincing arguments.  Mr. Kondo, dispatch security teams to transporter rooms 1 and 2.  Alert Doctor Reid to have trauma and response teams standing by.  Chief – target their shields and fire phasers.” The main screen showed the arcs of phaser fire glance across both escorts until the shields crackled and fell.  Harris ordered, “Drop shields and begin transport.”  

The moments passed as Kondo tapped at his console and soon confirmed, “We have them all.  To say the least, they are unhappy.”

The CO grumbled, “Welcome to my world, Devore.  Helm, plot us a course out of Hirogen space and get us on your way to Devore space…which is a sentence I never imagined I’d utter.  Strange times.”  Prentice confirmed the course was ready.  “Let’s go talk to our old friends…engage, Mr. Prentice.”

The Mackenzie stubbornly got underway and was gone in a flash.  Far behind them, a pair of Hirogen ships slowed…and then adjusted their course.  The hunt must continue.

Sickbay was busy as Captain Harris walked in, and an orderly looked from the desk to greet whoever it was and then went wide-eyed at the sight of the CO, “Uh…welcome to sickbay, sir!”

He waved her off, “I’m here to check with Doctor Reid.  I can find my way, crewman….?”

“Dahl, sir.  Medical Crewman Tobias Dahl.”

“Good to meet you, Crewman Dahl.”  He strode through the waiting area and into the back corridors that led to various parts of the expansive sickbay on the Makenzie.  He found her just stepping out of intensive care, and she gave him a look of relief.

“I was going to call you.  I’ve got a complete list of survivors.”  She handed the PADD over, and he read through each name.  He stopped at Julian Harris and looked up.  She sighed, “He wasn’t with the survivors.  None of them know what happened to him.  They were in transit with the Devore before they got to the Hirogen…and they stopped somewhere along the way.  The Devore moved him to another ship.  He’s still out there somewhere…but nobody knows why, where, or what.”  She accepted the PADD back, “We’ve got everyone else.  Most are in pretty serious condition.  The Devore redefines brutality every time I learn more about them.”  She searched his eyes, “You made the right call saving them.”

Ambrose pursed his lips, “There’s a large part of me that wanted them to die…to pay for their sins.”  He sighed, “But Tir and Atega made convincing arguments.”  He chuckled, “We’ve got a good crew…able to talk me out of some regrettable decisions.”

She smiled, “That’s what they’re here for, Captain.  It’s all for one and one for all.  You want to visit with the survivors?  Figured you didn’t come down here to just get a report.”  He returned the smile and nodded.  She knew him well enough.

Devore Imperium Inspector Jasev stood on the viewscreen, his eyes scorching the bridge of the Mackenzie.  “Captain, this is…unspeakable.”

Harris was at a loss.  He had just reported to the Devore that his people were safe and ready to be transported.  “Inspector, you took our people…and were going to sell them as targets for the Hirogen.  I’m aware that you firmly believe that is an acceptable practice…and perhaps it is with the rest of the Delta Quadrant…but I was not going to stand by and allow people we had been asked to look out for to be offered up as a sacrifice to the Hirogens.”

Jasev shouted, “You’ve invalidated a treaty we entered into with the Hirogen, Captain.  A treaty that governs our relationship.  It is a treaty of balance and trade.”

“It is a treaty of trafficking, abuse, and genocide.  Maybe if it hadn’t been our people, we maybe would have held back and let the Delta Quadrant’s cycle continue.  You had told us they had already been sold to the Hirogen, Inspector.  We were under the impression they were long gone and deep inside Hirogen space.”

Normally someone would be embarrassed at being caught in a lie.  The Devore responded differently.  “We were under no obligation to tell you the truth about anything, Captain Harris.  It would have been better if you had accepted your fate and let your people die the way they were intended – hunted until they were no more.”

Ambrose stared at the inspector, “Do you want your people back or not?”  

Jasev looked as if he was going to rail against them, but he fell silent to consider the question.  He replied curtly, “Yes.  We will transmit details on where you can transport them.”  The channel closed, and the entire bridge seemed to let out the breath they’d collectively been holding.

Atega confirmed the transporter details had been sent.  Harris wearily “Go ahead and get them transported over.”  A few minutes passed as the shields on both ships were dropped, and the transporters worked their magic.  Moments later, the process was complete, and the shields returned.  Ambrose was about to order Prentice to set a course for the outpost when Atega spoke up.

“Uh…Captain…Inspector Jasev is hailing us.  Again.”  She felt something was off, and the look on her face gave her CO some warning.  Something was wrong.

“On screen.”

Jasev stood, the look on his face triumphant and pleased with himself.  It was the person that was being held prisoner next to him that sent chills through Ambrose.  Natalie gasped audibly at her console.  The Inspector chuckled, “You’ve made the Devore Imperium quite unhappy, Captain Harris.  You know this man here…one Julian Harris.  He’s found every way to offend the Imperium.”  Jasev looked at Julian, “Despite our repeated warnings, our repeated punishments…he just couldn’t learn.”  Atega reported two other large Devore ships had entered the system and were coming alongside Jasev’s ship.

Ambrose found his voice as he stood, “We’re aware of his…behavior.  He’s slated to stand trial back home for a long list of offenses.  I can assure you he will receive punishment for his crimes here…and there.  That I can promise with absolute certainty, Inspector.”

Jasev laughed and kicked the feet out from underneath the older Harris cousin, “You don’t understand me, Captain Harris.  We aren’t negotiating the release of your family member.  We’re holding his trial.”  He amended that, “I should be clear, as you humans like to say.  We held his trial.  We would have left him to the Hirogen…but I realized you and your crew needed to pay.  The balance of things, I think you call it.  So we picked him up.  I had hoped the Hirogen would eliminate the diseased crew, but you got lucky.”  He adjusted the camera and stepped back as Julian’s prone body on the floor was struggling to get to his knees.  “Your cousin is not so lucky.”

Harris spoke quickly, “Clear the bridge.”  Officers glanced at Harris, and he repeated, “Clear the bridge.”  The officers quickly headed for the turbolift, and Natalie hesitated.  Ambrose shook his head, “Clear the bridge, Nat.”

The bridge suddenly sat empty, save for Ambrose.  Jasev cackled, “I was so hoping they would see the consequences of your actions, Captain.  Anything you want to say to your doomed cousin?”

Julian’s face was battered, bruised, and bloody.  His eyes were barely able to open, and Ambrose could tell at least one of his arms was broken the way it was hanging.  He sputtered, “I am sorry, Ambrose.  I’m sorry I dragged Natalie into this.”

Ambrose felt his throat tighten.  If it had been one large Devore ship, he could have rationalized trying to take them.  But three…was a statistical impossibility.  “I’m sorry we couldn’t get to you in time.”

The Harris cousin nodded weakly, “I did this to myself, Ambrose.  Don’t blame yourself.  Don’t blame Rafael.  I did this.”

Sitting slumped in the center chair, he shook his head, “Everybody shares the blame for this, Julian.”  He met the eyes of his cousin, “I’m so sorry.”

Jasev rolled his eyes, “Humans.”  He pulled out a disrupter and put it up against the head of Julian Harris.  And fired.  The screen flashed as the microphone picked up the thumping of the body to the ground, and Ambrose tensed at the sound.  The Inspector stood over the body and repeated the killing shot once.  Twice.  Three times.  He adjusted the camera to focus on the dead and smoking body of Julian Harris.  Pulling it back up, he intoned, “You did this, Captain Harris.  I should blow you out of the stars…but I think this will keep you from ever entering our space ever again.  We’ll send the body to you as a courtesy.”  The channel closed.

Ambrose tapped the console, and he whispered, “Computer, activate Emergency Command Hologram.”

McKee appeared, “Please state the natu….” she stopped and observed Captain Harris slumped in his chair, tears falling down his face.  She considered various paths of action and settled on, “Captain, you are relieved.”  

He stood shakily as his words filtered through his sadness, “I am relieved.”  He walked the path to his ready room, and the door closed behind him.

McKee stared at the Devore ships as they departed, leaving the Mackenzie in silent repose.  She tapped at the console on the chair, ordering the bridge crew to return.  They needed to find a valley to find rest.

“Arriving at Markonian Outpost,”  Prentice announced with little fanfare.  The bridge felt heavy.

Executive Officer Okada Katsumi sat in the center chair, the weight of the last twenty-four hours pressing against her heart.  Their captain had witnessed the murder of his cousin, Julian, at the hands of the Devore Imperium.  He must have known what was coming as he’d cleared the bridge.  By the time word had reached her down in engineering, it was too late.  She’d walked into the bridge to see the Emergency Command Hologram waiting for the crew to return to the command center.  Harris has locked himself in his ready room, and not even Jordan Reid had been able to request entry.  “Request docking clearance, Mr. Prentice.”  The docking was cleared, and the moments and minutes of shifting the Excelsior II class starship into place passed with little comment or discussion.  It just…was.  Prentice confirmed they were secured and docked.  She gave him an absent-minded nod.  She tapped the console, opening a ship-wide channel, “This is the XO – you are given leave to rest on board for the next twelve hours.  Requests to go to Markonian need to go through your chief.  Katsumi out.”  She remained in the chair as the officers cycled off the bridge.

Prentice startled her with, “I think you need to break in there, Commander.”

She first felt shocked at his suggestion, and her face must have given it away because he put his hands up in a surrender motion.  Okada muttered, “I’m sorry, Lieutenant.  I had hoped we’d get through this mission without a loss.”  Pushing up and out of the chair, she cleared her throat, “In fairness, you’re right.  We need our CO…and he needs us.”

The Chief Helm Officer headed for the turbolift door, stopping to turn back, “I think he didn’t want us to have to watch his cousin die.  Maybe he decided he needed to protect us from having that…seared into our memories.”  He shrugged and entered the turbolift.

Okada sighed and approached the door.  She’d hit the chime several times since yesterday, and she gamely tried again.  No response.  “Goddamn it, Captain,” she muttered.  She went about entering her command codes to force the doors open in an emergency.  It took her a minute, but eventually, the door flew open, and she stepped into the darkened, ready room.

Ambrose Harris was curled up on the couch by the windows, sleeping soundly.  He hadn’t changed since the day previous, and various piles of food and drink littered the desk and end tables.  She turned up the lights slightly and went about cleaning up the room.  Her CO didn’t stir as she moved about the room.  Okada was turning over in her head what to say to the man.  As much as he’d hated Julian for what he’d done, he had still been a Harris – and blood was a strong connection.

She had finished restoring the room and pulled a chair to sit next to the couch.  “Captain.”  He continued to sleep, and she resorted to shaking him awake.  His eyes went wide as he woke with a start and stared at her, getting his bearings.  

He brushed the sleep from his eyes.  “Commander.  How did you get in here?”  She related to him the use of an emergency to override the door.  He let out a long sigh, “I suppose this qualifies as an emergency.”  She stepped over to the replicator and handed him a streaming cup of coffee which he took with thanks.  “I’m not doing any better if that’s what you’re asking.”

Katsumi sat in the chair, “I was just going to ask where you’re at…and where we go from here.  I’m sorry for the loss, Cap…Ambrose.  I can’t imagine.”

He sipped at his coffee as the warmth and strength spread through his body, “I can’t imagine.  I’m still…wrapping my mind around what happened.”  He set the cup down on the table and rubbed his eyes, “There’s a lot going on up here,” he gestured to his head and let out another sigh, “I know there’s no way I’m going to be able to take command in this state.”  He gestured to her with the cup in his hand before he took another long drink, “You’re going to have to take the CONN, Okada.”

She grumbled, “I don’t want it.”  He stared at her, and she relented, “I know, I know.  I don’t have a choice.  Greer is coming out of recovery this morning.  Reid’s going to a final check and probably clear her for duty.  There’ll at least be somebody down there that has ‘chief’ in their title.”

Ambrose grimaced, “Reid’s probably pissed off at me.”

Okada stood from her chair, “I think she was worried about your…and you locked her out.  I don’t think she’s angry, Ambrose.  Just concerned and worried for you.”  He had disclosed to her their relational status recently.  She’d been delighted at the time, and she remained supportive of them.  “We can transport you to your quarters, sir.”  

Her tone had shifted from friend to subordinate officer, and he gave her a distracted nod, “You’ll need to report my status to the Task Force 17 team on the outpost.  You’ll need to schedule Lieutenant Woodward some appointment time with me, same goes for Reid.”

The XO made notes on the PADD she had grabbed from his desk.  She turned to the door, “You did the right thing clearing the bridge, sir.  But…,” her voice grew tense, laced with emotion, “Don’t shut us out ever again, sir.  That’s not how we do things.  Respectfully.”

Ambrose looked up, his eyes shining with cragged emotion.  He gave an apologetic nod, “You have my word, Commander.  All for one and one for all.”  The door closed, and he tapped his badge.  Moments later, he vanished in a burst of light and sound.

She sat in the briefing room, PADD in hand.  It had been a few hours since her captain had voluntarily relieved himself of command and transferred temporary responsibility. They had received the report from Task Force 17 regarding the device that was being called “The Trumpet.”  She had given Fowler the entire report, test results, and more to review in anticipation of deciding how the Mackenzie fit into the puzzle.  They'd been asked to identify where Blood Dilithium was located and attempt to use the device in their examination of the mineral.

The door opened, and Jordan walked in as she was pulling the disarrayed hair into focused order.  She slumped into the chair next to Okada, “I finished the autopsy on Julian Harris.”  She handed a PADD to the XO, “They broke his left leg, right arm, and nearly every single finger before smashing his hands.  They used his head as a punching bag.”  Reid growled, “They were never going to let him go, Commander.  They just wanted him to suffer.”

Katsumi looked over the report, her heart growing cold as the details were spelled out in clinical detail.  She murmured, “We'll be carrying Julian with us for quite some time, Doc.  I think we're going to have to be careful how we carry him - vengeance is universal in how it can lead us down paths of darkness.”  Handing the PADD back, “Let's hope we can all listen to the angels on our shoulders.”

Kondo and Atega entered next and found their seats, quietly working on their PADDs as they exchanged nods.  Prentice, Tir, and Woodward followed and arrayed themselves in the remaining seats.  The XO stood and spoke plainly, “I think we're all aware of what happened yesterday.  Julian Harris was murdered by the Devore, and Captain Harris was forced to watch.  For the moment, he has relieved himself of duty.  He has asked me to continue in whatever mission Starfleet has for us.”  She looked around the table carefully, “I know our hearts are heavy…but we've got a task that may help us get some needed answers to some challenging questions.”  She opened up the presentation and started the briefing.

The chrono at the front of the bridge clicked over to 1100 as the Mackenzie powered through space, her course set for systems butted up against the Hirogen Hunting Groups and the Malon Cooperative.  Task Force 17 had given them several in the area where Blood Dilithium had been sighted or reported.  The bridge was once more lit in soft yellow.  Okada sat in the command chair, chewing on her bottom lip and staring at the view screen.

“Commander, I'm getting a reading from one of the systems.” Atega spoke up from the communications station, “I'm picking up long-range chatter about the ‘red rocks’ that appeared recently.  Coming from the Krosa system.”  Her eyes search the screen as she adjusted the communications sensors.  There were so many signals out here in comparison to the Hirogen Hunting Grounds.  This part of space was alive.  Another alert popped on the screen, “We're also picking up signals from the Molas system with references to active mining of the minerals.”  Beeps started sounding, “Getting lots of incoming traffic, Commander.  We have some choices, it seems.”  An off-key sounding alarm beeped from her station, “Picking up a distress call from the Poudre system - we're about twenty minutes away.  They report they are being harassed by unknown vessels.”

Katsumi fought the urge to panic.  She had been working on her breathing since she'd stepped on board the bridge.  The center chair came with pressure.  She had known this.  That had been on a PADD and in discussions with the CO.  Now she sat in the most important chair on the USS Mackenzie, and she had to make a choice.  A choice with intended and unintended consequences.  They had learned the hard way how that worked in the Delta Quadrant.  She wanted to avoid further lessons.  “Prentice, plot an intercept course.  Kondo, go to red alert.  Let Doc Reid know we may need her help in a few.”  William turned to face her with a thumbs up.  She had never been on for using rank with her fellow officers.  She was sure that it broke some rules in the XO handbook, but she was past caring.  “Let's get rocking, Prentice.”  The Mackenzie took off at a gallop.

Twenty minutes had passed.  Okada remained in the center seat, staring down the viewscreen.  The stars slowed as the Mackenzie dropped into the Krosa system.  Three planets with a moon each, a sun in the middle, and an asteroid mining operation going full speed.  “Kondo, where is…?"

“They are near the closest planet.  Three transport ships are weaving the way to us.”  Without warning, alarms blared from his station, “New contacts coming out from behind Krosa III - four ships…identified…as Hirogen.  They are five minutes from us.  We are three minutes from the transports."

Katsumi didn't hesitate as she stood and directed orders to the officers around her on the bridge, “Prentice, get us within transporter range of those ships.  Atega - hail them and get them ready.  Tir - drop shields when we're in range.”  They all moved quickly as time was now their nearest enemy.  She held her hands at her side, her fingers fiddling nervously as the ships grew closer.  The bridge was full of concentration as each station paid the attention that the situation demanded. 

One minute passed as the yellow lights reminded them of the danger they faced.  The faint klaxon repeated the harsh rhythm of the dance they were about to begin.  Two minutes went by as they closed the gap.  One minute to go.  Fowler searched the screens as her fingers flew across the keys, trying to squeeze anything more from the sensors.

Thirty seconds.  The XO hadn't sat down.  She had calculated in her mind how long this would take.  They'd activated all of the transporter rooms.  Now all they had to do was get the crews and the cargo aboard in one minute forty-five seconds.  Ten seconds.

Five.

Three.

Two.

Tir called out, “Shields down.”  A tap on the console, “Transporters are active.”

Atega leaned into her earpiece, “The crews are setting the ships to autodestruct as they're leaving - they don't want the Hirogen to get these ships.”  Okada nodded quietly.  The loss of any ship grieved her heart.  Taking away the prize from the hunters would hopefully sting, even if it was only a little.

Calog counted down the time, “One minute remaining.  Crews are 50% transferred.  Cargo is 70% transferred.”

Kondo alerted, “The Hirogen have activated their targeting systems…they are not targeting the transport ships…they are targeting us. One minute fifteen seconds until they are in range.”

The XO moved to stand closer to the operations chief as he worked against the clock.  A few moments passed until he reported, “Cargo is 90% transferred.  Crew is 90% transferred.  Thirty seconds remaining."  Calog felt every inch of the pressure on his shoulders.  Tir was being helpful for once and had taken to working what little calming influences she knew to release the tension that threatened to overwhelm him as the clock ticked down and down.  A pause.  “Crew and cargo are transferred.  We are clear.  Shields up!”

Kondo confirmed, “Fifteen seconds until they are in range.”  His eyes turned to the targeting systems of the Excelsior II's weapons and listened for the XO's orders to engage.

Atega pressed her earpiece, “They are informing us we are now part of the hunt since we took the transport crew aboard.  There will be no negotiations.  Prepare to die.  Their words.”  She felt her face burn as she had to clarify.

The XO returned to the center chair, “Prentice, let's get evasive and fancy.  Kondo - once they fire…,"  There was a resounding thunder against the shields, and she finished her statement, “….you are free to engage.”

“Engaging, Commander.  Helm, let's get some distance.”  The Mackenzie swerved in a u-turn and thundered off at full impulse as the three transport ships exploded.  De La Fontaine tapped a course suggestion to Prentice, “Let's see if we can shake them up, Will.”  The helm chief nodded as he threw the Mackenzie into a hard starboard turn that tickled the inertial dampeners.  Kondo grinned quietly as the screen showed the rapidly approaching Hirogen ships, “Let fly!”  The ten phaser banks exploded into action, scathing across the Hirogen shields as the chief tactical officer launched a barrage of bright orange torpedoes that slammed up against the ships, wobbling two of them before they broke off.  They quickly regrouped and began to take potshots with menacing intensity.

“Captain.”

“Counselor.”

Juliet sat across from him, a PADD in hand.  They'd ordered food and drink from the replicator while he'd gone through the sonic shower and slipped on some slacks and a collared shirt.  She gave him a nod, “What does it feel like right now?”

He grimaced, “I never liked Julian.  But I still loved him.  He was still family.  He was still a Harris.”  Ambrose took a sip of his tea, “You spend your entire life talking about how terrible he was…and then this happens.  He dies on my watch.”  A shake of the head, “I never expected it to end like this.”

“You cannot blame yourself, Captain.”  She made a few notes, “There are no winners or losers in a no-win scenario.”

“Sure doesn't feel that way.”  He took a few bites of his waffles and relished the taste of a hot breakfast.  “That chair is the hardest thing I've ever done in my life.”  A sigh.  “Breaking the news to the family is going to be…a hell of a thing.”

Juliet made a few more notes, “Do you want to sit in the chair again?”

He swallowed the bacon and chased it down with the Earl Grey.  “That's a heavy question.”  She didn't respond as she kept her eyes on his.  “I don't know.  When I was assigned the Erigone, I wasn't sure I wanted to be in command.  That maybe I'd go back to being a Chief Engineer.  As time went on, I found myself more and more drawn to the command track.  With the Edinburgh and now the Mackenzie…it just seems like this is where I'm supposed to be.”

She took a swig of her coffee, “And the pain?”

Ambrose scoffed, “Doesn't go away no matter what I do.  The losses on the Eddie…and the losses here… hurt like hell. Like a knife is playing hockey in my heart.”  He sighed, “I suppose that's the job - the wins come with victories and joy, and the losses come with defeat and pain.”

“You don't have to like the hard stuff.”  She finished off her yogurt and waited for his thoughts.

He didn't need long to think about it, “I don't like it.  I hate it.  I guess that's why I fight so hard to find a compromise on our missions.  I don't want to have to experience those things….I avoid them as much as possible.”

She waited a moment before she ventured, “You're not alone in that struggle Captain Harris.” He frowned at her, and she allowed a thin smile, “Everyone who sits in that chair…or any chair onboard a starship has to do battle with those feelings and worries every time they come on shift.  Will today be the day they have to make the unthinkable choice?  Or will someone else be on duty when the hard stuff comes for them?”  She allowed, “You don't have that option.  Not many people get to sit in your chair, Captain.  There's a great honor in that…a sacred duty.  It is also, as you say…the hardest job on the ship.”

Ambrose listened to each word.  It was real.  He hadn't thought about the rest of the bridge crew…or even the rest of the crew.  The weight of the uniform that they wore still held weight no matter the posting or position. There was responsibility and duty that came with the badge and rank pips.  He wondered aloud, “I do have to accept it, don't I?”  He explained, “The hard stuff.  I can hate it and find ways around it…but I can't ignore it or wait for it to disappear.”

“That's sometimes the hardest part for us.  Accepting the hard stuff we cannot change and must live with…that it will always be a part of our job.”

He opined, “Or our life.”

Juliet remembered something, “There's an old earth film I enjoy watching from time to time…it has a quote I've carried with me since the Academy.  ‘Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something’.  It's from a fantasy film about a princess and a dread pirate keen to save her from a forced marriage."

“How do we deal with our pain?”  He asked honestly, needing to find a way to grapple with the emptiness that gaped from a hole in his heart, the threads of the muscle frayed and unraveling.

“We work through it.  With time, with conversations like this…the sharp pain of grief will give way to the dull pain of memory…and those will stay with us forever.”  She refilled her coffee and returned to the couch, “There are steps in the process.  I can help you understand them…I can help you be ready for them…and I can help guide how you respond to them.  You'll need all of us to get through this, Captain.  Nobody goes on the journey alone.”

He raised his mug of tea to her and took a long sip.  He nodded after a moment, “I was reminded recently that I shouldn't try to do this alone.  Let's start with the first step.”

The bridge shuddered as the three Hirogen ships circled the Excelsior II class ship.  Kondo had managed to blast one of the hunters into oblivion.  It had now become a game of evasive and aggressive.  Prentice was doing his level best to keep moving while also giving room and space for the tactical chief to do his work.  “Will, get us some room.” Prentice spun the Mackenzie and threw her into warp speed for a few seconds, then dropped them out and swerved back to face the Hirogen.  De La Fontaine nodded, “Good, let's do some running and gunning.”  As he targeted the torpedoes, he sent the Chief Helm Officer his course needs.  The Mackenzie thundered forward as her phasers came into range and exploded into wide and charged firing patterns.  Then the torpedoes flashed into action and smashed up against the shields of one Hirogen ship, the shields flashing before they crackled into non-existence.

Fowler was watching the sensors and assisting with Kondo's tactical work when the computer started to beep.  The bottom of her stomach nearly dropped to the floor, “Commander - we have multiple targets inbound - all Hirogen.  Current count is…ten.  They'll be here in ten minutes.”

Okada felt her face tighten.  Three they could handle.  Thirteen was impossible.  They were going to have to get out of here and fast.  Cardamon sat to her right, working on his PADD.  He looked up at the screen and then to the commander, “I may have a solution to this.  You will probably not like it.”

Katsumi regarded him cautiously, “I'm up for any ideas.”

“We can flee to my planet.  The Voth are more than equipped to take on the Hirogen on their…how do you say it,” he tapped at the PADD, “…ah, home turf."

She shifted from cautious to skeptical, “Why would they help us?  They nearly killed you the last time.”

He stared at her as if afraid to say what was next.  When he did speak, she understood why he had hesitated.  “I can make a deal with them.  I can return to the position I left…it is a trade they will accept.”  The bridge shook this time as Kondo expressed frustration at swatting flies.  Cardamon looked to the screen, “You can run…but they will catch up to you.  The Hirogen are relentless.  The Voth of my planet would relish a battle…or even a war with them.”

Okada shook her head in disbelief, “You can't be serious…you left them…and found us.  You wanted to stay.”  The bridge shook again as consoles began to flicker.

The Voth spoke firmly, “Commander - you will be overwhelmed in a short while.  I have no choice…and neither do you.”

She didn't have much time.  Kondo had disabled another ship, but that still left two Hirogan flying around like vultures with ten more on the way.  Muttering, “I never liked no-win scenarios,” she turned to Prentice, “Helm, plot a course to the Cardamon's home planet and engage at maximum warp.”  Prentice quickly found an opening and sent the Mackenzie fleeing into the stars.  She turned to the Voth, “Get with Atega.  Reach out to your people.  I'm going to find a way to stop this anyway I can.”  

He regarded the patience of an old parent, “You can try, but this is the way, Commander.  This is the only way.”

Five hours had passed.  The damage control teams had been at work repairing the minor damage.  Cardamon remained in the right-hand chair while Okada worked through varying plans and ideas.  Each time she had come up empty, and it had continued to frustrate her each time she hit a wall in her brainstorming.  The Voth's plan had been accepted by his people.  Any treachery, they had warned, would be rewarded by the full force of their ships and planetary defense operations.  Prentice announced they were arriving at the planet and dropped them out of warp.

Kondo had kept them at Red Alert, and his tactical screens lit up, “Commander, picking up twenty contacts of varying sizes and power directly in front of us.  Longer-range sensors are detecting further ships in the wings.”  He was unsettled looking at the statistics on the ships as the computer quickly evaluated the threat level from each. The Voth had been busy.

Atega's console beeped, “We're being hailed by the lead ship.”  She felt the disappointment in her heart weighing her spirit down.  Cardamon had been with them fifteen days, and already it felt like he was a part of the crew.

Okada stood, “On screen.”  Within seconds, High Commander of the Voth Expeditionary Force Larsak appeared, scowling with a smile on his face.

“Ah, yes.  Commander Katsumi.” She couldn't stop herself from clenching her hands into fists.  Larsak had been the one who had tried to kill Cardamon.  She had jumped in front of the phaser and gone through hell for her troubles.  She would have been thrilled to destroy his ship right here and now.  Her anger wasn't simmering.  It was raging.  He dared to chuckle, “I see you haven't forgotten me.  I understand our deal is still valid?"

Okada gritted her teeth, “Against my wishes and judgment.  Cardamon is not one of my officers but a guest aboard the Mackenzie.  His choice is what matters, even if I disagree with it totally.”

“You will transport him aboard as we agreed.  We will then enter into conflict with the Hirogen, as we also agreed.”  The channel closed, leaving the bridge turning to Cardamon with sadness.

Okada gave him a bow, “I understand.”  He gave her a half smile which may have looked like a snarl to anyone else.  He reached out and hugged her, drawing a gasp from her and the bridge crew.  

He held her gently, “You saved my life, Commander Katsumi.  It's my turn to save yours.”  He said his goodbyes to each officer with a hug, drawing tears from them as he walked into the turbolift with his security escort and waved as the door slid shut.

Silence remained the custodian of the sounds on the bridge as Prentice shifted them around the phalanx of Voth ships and found a space off to the side.  He would shake his head slightly so often as he thought about what had just happened.  Okada watched him and the others.  “Prentice…”

He turned in his chair, “It's not right, Commander.  It's…just not right.  You saved him because it was the right thing to do.  You saved him because…well, that's what's part of what we do as Starfleet officers.”

Atega thought about his words from her station, “What about if it's the right thing for him to do?”  She explained when Prentice stared at her, “Cardamon lived apart from his people for 75 years.  In linguistical studies, that's a lifetime when it comes to language change.  Plenty can change in someone in that amount of time.  Maybe somehow….in that time he changed the stuff inside so that…it is the right thing to do what he's doing.”

Prentice pursed his lips but didn't answer.  He knew there was truth in the communication's chief words.  He had come to like Cardamon and his perspective.  It was unique and challenged his ideas of the aliens out here and back home.  Friendship was a powerful word, but they had started one with the Voth.  Now they would never see him again.  Okada spoke to them, “It is not easy.  He did something for us that no one in this quadrant has come close to equaling.  When the Hirogen get here, I will ask you to fight alongside the Voth.  I need to know you're willing to find a place to store these feelings.”  She looked around the room at each of them and made eye contact.  Each of them gave a slight nod.  “Thank you.  Let's get ready.”

“Commander, the Voth have signaled they wish us to leave.”  Atega turned in her chair to face Okada.  They had all watched in awe and horror as the battle has begun.  The Hirogen had put up a fight and taken some Voth with them, but in the end, they had been beaten.  The wreckage of the destroyed ships littered the screen.  Two disabled Hirogen ships floated in the middle of it all as Voth ships slowly began to clear the field of battle.  Presley wondered what would happen to Cardamon now.  What would his life be like?

Okada grumbled, “Prentice, inform the folks we rescued off that transport. I need to see them in the cargo bays so we can sort out where we’re taking whatever we got…Tir, you should probably come with me.  Set us a course out of here and somewhere relatively safe.  Engage when ready.  Kondo, you have the CONN.”

“You doing OK, Chief?”  Calog glanced at the XO-turned CO as the turbolift flew through the insides of the Mackenzie.

“OK is a very subjective word, Calog.  I’m the commanding officer, and I don’t want to be a commanding officer.”  She turned to him, “I don’t want to do this for long.  I’d much rather be in my engine room.”

“Carda…”

She cut him off, “Too soon, Calog.  Too soon.”  The turbolift doors flew open, and she quickly exited, leaving her chief of operations flushed at his misstep.  Tir growled, ~You and your stupid mouth.  Getting us into all kinds of trouble.  Soft touch, you idiot.~  He put his feet in motion and followed her down the corridor and into one of the cargo bays, which was full of shielded boxes.  Calog felt a tremor run through his body as he walked to where Okada stood, speaking with the transport captain and crew.

“Captain…look, we took you on without asking what you had or who you were.  We’re asking for you to confirm your manifest, declare your goods, and let us know where we can take you.”

The ruddy-faced transport captain shook his head, “I don’t have to answer to you, Starfleet.  We will provide you with where we need to go, but that is it.  Do not even try and open the containers – they are secured to my biological reading.”  He crossed his arms and stuck out his chin at Okada.

Katsumi was done.  She glared at him and repeated her request, ending with, “I won’t ask again.”  

He scoffed and looked to his crew, who chuckled along with him. And then he smirked, “You don’t get to tell….”

She’d had enough. Okada grabbed his arm and pulled it up and over his head, eliciting a high-pitched scream from him and shouts from his crew, to which she shouted, “Security!” where a group of armed security officers filtered in through the doors, phasers out and pointed.  She pulled the man with his arm towards a container, “I asked nicely.  I asked twice.  I saved your goddamn life, put my ship and crew at risk for you, and you…smirk at me?”  She forcefully pushed him towards a container as he groaned and shouted out in pain, “That’s not how you do things when you step aboard a Starfleet vessel, Captain.  You thank your lucky stars that somebody thought you were worth saving and was willing to help you…with only a few harmless questions.”  She shoved him up against the container, moving his twisted arm closer to the bio reader.

“No. No…NOOO!”  He shouted and then, at last, screamed, “It’s Blood Dilithium.  It’s…Blood Dilithium.”

Okada dropped his arm in shock as he stumbled back into the arms of his fellow crew.  She looked at the shielded containers, “That’s what is in there?”  He nodded, rubbing his arm and shoulder, tears in his eyes.  “What did you think I was going to do with it?”

He whimpered, “Take it from us?  We’ve heard terrible stories about you Federation types.”

She groaned, “Well, unless it was us telling the stories, you can start doubting whoever was selling you that version.  I don’t care about taking any back with me…hell; I’d rather avoid the stuff.  We’ve been told to study it but not steal it from anybody.”  She tapped her badge, “Okada to Doc Reid – need you in sickbay for a quick patient check.”  She waved Calog over, “Find out where we’re taking them.  Secure each cargo bay with locks and twenty-four hours security guards.  We have telepaths and empaths on this ship – it gets loose, and we’re screwed.”  She turned to the transport captain, “I’m sorry you got hurt…if you had been honest with me and not treated me like some minor inconvenience…that wouldn’t have been necessary.  The Delta Quadrant only responds to one type of communication style, it seems.”

He blinked.  Twice.  The doctor entered and began to do her work while glaring at Okada.  The man grimaced as Reid evaluated him, “It is the way of this place, Commander.  You…spoke the language well.”

Okada chuckled dryly, “I’ll put that on my resume.  Give my operations chief the location.  We’ll get you on your way.  Doc – I’ll be on the bridge.”  Reid just rolled her eyes and continued her work.  Katsumi knew there was a conversation coming.

And she knew she wasn’t going to like it.

They sat in the ready room on the couch, sipping at steaming cups of tea.

“You crossed a line, Okada,”  Jordan spoke gently to her friend and interim CO.  The Delta Quadrant had pushed and pulled on each member of the crew.  The senior staff had had an especially rough go of it.

“I know.”  Katsumi had felt the guilt roiling in her stomach.  She’d retired to the ready room in hope that it would settle the tumultuous feelings she had been wrestling with.  “I can’t take it back.”

Reid understood.  “I think if we ever wanted a challenge in our life, we could sign up for regular duty out here.”

Okada groaned, “I think this place would change us, Jord.  We’ve already crossed a few lines.  I wouldn’t want to be assigned out here long term.  I’d quit.”  She took a sip of her tea, and her eyes closed as the warmth spread.  “I’m ready to go home.  Be back in a place where I knew my enemy.  Where the rules mostly make sense.”  She turned to her friend, “If I had pulled that on someone back home…they’d have had me fired within the hour.  Here…it’s just the price of getting something done.”  She sheepishly admitted, “It did feel good to get his attention.”

A roll of the eyes from Jordan, “That’s the adrenaline talking…and the feeling of getting results.  There’s a reason pirates have the reputation they have, and there’s a reason we have the reputation we have – we each do things differently to get what we want.”  The doctor pushed herself back into the corner of the couch, “It is weird being in here without Ambrose.”

Katsumi did the same on her end, “It is a comfortable couch.”  She sipped at her tea, “I wonder if I get something like this in my quarters.”  

Reid made a point, “You are Chief Engineer.  Well within your purview.”  They talked well into the night.

“Our scientists have completed their preliminary study of the samples of Blood Dilithium.  Reports are on your PADDs.”  Sadie Fowler stood at the head of the briefing room table, the screen behind her displaying a summary of the findings.  “Engineering has finished the construction of the trumpet device.  Science has completed the conversion of Cargo Bay 2 into a secure and shielded testing area for the device.”  Fowler indicated it was Jordan’s turn.

The Chief Medical Officer didn’t stand as she reported, “We’ve outfitted all of our empaths and telepaths with devices designed and tested to prevent any effect from the stuff.  Those devices will also monitor in real-time their vitals so we’ll have an indication if something is off.  We’re using reports from the various ships in the Delta Quadrant that have already been through this – we learned a lot from the unpleasant experiences they went through.  We’re still learning, so science and medical will be working together to keep a close eye as we go.”

Fowler picked back up, “They’ve secured the samples and are ready for testing.  We’ve got multiple video and sensor readings being recorded.  We’ll also be transmitting to Starfleet operations on Markonian Outpost live as we work so they can see as well.”  She returned to her seat, and the eyes at the table turned to their commanding officer.

Captain Harris sat at the head of the table and returned the looks from his command team, “Thank you for your efforts.  Each of you has done an incredible job in trying circumstances, to say the least.  We’re going to do some final testing of the samples.  I’ve received our return orders to be back at the wormhole on the 30th, ready to head home.”

Prentice spoke up, “Do we have orders once we’re back home, sir?”  It was the question everyone had been quietly muttering under their breath in the last few days.  They were yearning to get back to the stability of their task force assignment.

“We’re due a brief shore leave and then….yes.  To be determined, but it’ll be back in our mission area.”  He glanced around for any further questions and stood, “Then we’re dismissed.  We’ll start the testing at 1000 hours.”  The crew drained from the room slowly.  Harris spoke with each of them with encouragement and hope – they had been through a lot in the last 27 days.  It had begun to feel as if it were longer for everyone.  Reid remained in her chair, eyeing him.  “Yes, Jordan?”  He sat roughly in his chair and returned her stare.

“You really think it’s a good idea to be back in the chair?”  It wasn’t an accusation, and the softness in her voice helped her words land gently.

He leaned over the table, hands clasped.  “I don’t think Okada would have made it much longer.  I passed Lieutenant Woodward’s tests, and I finished your requirements.”

Reid narrowed her eyes, “Barely, ‘Brose.  You squeaked by with me.”

The CO stared at her for a moment, “You’re serious.”  He thought for a moment, “You’re not concerned enough to have me removed from command.”

A shrug, “I’m worried for you, ‘Brose.  We both know how much of a monster grief can be.”  He gave a half nod, acknowledging the losses they had recently grappled with on the Edinburgh and now fresh loss on the Mackenzie.  “I need to ask for a favor.”  His eyebrows went up, but he motioned for her to continue, “I want to ask to be on the bridge for the remainder of this mission.”

He let out a light scoff, “You want to keep track of me.”

She returned the scoff with a bit heavier weight, “You know that’s not the case.  I need to make sure you’re OK…that you won’t try and do this alone.  That you won’t get lost in the forest and lose sight of the rest of us…of me.”

Ambrose stood from his chair and settled into the chair next to her, turning to face her and putting his hands in hers, “Jord…if there’s one thing I’ll never lose…it’s you.  You’ve kept me anchored in the middle of this storm.  You’ve been the constant.  The lighthouse.  I couldn’t imagine doing this without you.  You bring me back to life, Jord…and I’m incredibly thankful for you.”

She smiled, her eyes twinkling with the emotions he’d unearthed with his deep words.  “Thank you, ‘Brose.”  They embraced in the chairs and held each other for several minutes until they slowly separated.

“Permission to be stationed on the bridge is given. I promise not to call you ‘Bones’.”  She chuckled at the reference, and they left the briefing room together, smiles bridging over the growing river of pain.

“Cargo Bay 2 is secure.” Kondo stood at the reinforced and shielded glass as he continued to monitor from his mobile console.  “We’ve secured all decks.”

Harris stood within the cargo bay, his PADD in hand, as he observed the final checks being done by science, medical, and engineering.  Okada had made it clear she would be on site, and Jordan had agreed.  She was joined by Fowler and several senior members of her team.  He turned to Fowler, “Proceed when ready, Lieutenant.” 

Sadie activated the power to the trumpet as the additional layers of shielding and preventive measures snapped into place.  She tapped the console, “Activating trumpet…and directing to samples.”  The whine of the equipment screeched until it dropped to a low rumble, the beam appearing and impacting with the Blood Dilithium. The room was illuminated in the red scattered glow from the mineral, and everyone felt the sudden onset of a prickling at the back of their neck.  Fowler warned, “Symptoms are present on subjects in the test area but within limits.  Everyone, you will feel those things we discussed as we increase the power.  Keep breathing and reminding yourself what you’re feeling isn’t real.”  The beam increased, and the gathered crew shuffled nervously as they felt the increased anxiety building slowly as if a small wave sliding across a slick beach and retreating…and then repeating.

The beam reached full power, and suddenly an array of voices filled the room at various volumes until they coalesced into one mind speaking, “WE ARE THE BRENARI.  OUR VOICES SPEAK FOR THE DEAD.  THE DYING.  THE SUFFERING.”

Harris stepped forward slightly, “We know of what has happened to you.  We…are sorry.”

“SORRY WILL NOT RELEASE OUR PAIN.  IT WILL NOT RELEASE OUR ANGER.  OUR FURY.”

A moment passed as Harris considered what to say next, and he settled on, “How can we help you?”

“YOU MUST RELEASE US.  WE MUST AVENGE WHAT HAS BECOME OF OUR PEOPLE.  WE ARE CONTAINED.  WE MUST BREAK FREE.”

Fowler stood beside Harris, “Sir…this is…an interesting evolution.  I’m not sure we can release them…never mind the risks of such a thing.  I’m a little rusty on the rules of releasing a consciousness into the world.”

He shrugged, “Delta Quadrant doesn’t have rules, remember?  Trouble is…what happens if they get their revenge on the Devore…and they come for the rest of this quadrant?”

“WE ONLY SEEK VENGEANCE UPON THE DARKNESS THAT SHED OUR BLOOD.”

He glanced at Okada, who had a worried look on her face.  She nervously walked over to join him.  “I don’t know, sir.  This…is a big thing to consider.  Not to minimize your authority…but this might need to go up the chain.”

Harris sighed,” You’re not wrong, Chief Katsumi.  If we figured out how to release them…there’s a rule of unintended consequences that could have a galaxy-wide impact.  Fowler – power down the trumpet.  Work with your teams to see what possibility exists in…releasing them.  Keep me in the loop.”  He watched as the science team secured the samples under a protective covering and shook his head in wonder, “The Delta Quadrant never fails to surprise.”

The door chime sounded, and Ambrose glanced up from his desk, “Enter.”  The door slid open, and his sister stepped over the threshold hesitantly.  He greeted her with a warm smile and gestured her to the seat, “Come on in, Cadet.”

She sat down and stared at him, her words jumbled in a mass of confusion.  “I…uh….”

Ambrose leaned forward, “What's going on, Nat?”

The younger Harris sighed, “I don't know if I want to go to Starfleet Academy.”  She watched her brother's reaction, which was unreadable.  She pressed on, “I've…been thinking a lot while I've been out here.  We've been through a helluva lot, ‘Brose.  Losing our cousin…and the near constant threat of death from the Devore…it’s scaring me shitless.”

He regarded her carefully for a moment.  “I'm not going to pressure you to join Starfleet, Nat.  I…readily accept it's been a brutal ride since you landed in the Delta Quadrant.  I'm still trying to wrap my head around the Devore, Hazari…and the Hirogen.  We've faced some heavy hitters…and lost.”  He paused.  Would he have made the same call to join Starfleet when he was younger if he'd seen everything she'd seen with her young and inexperienced eyes?  Would he have been able to push past it all?  “I've been doing this for longer, so whatever advice I'd give is going to be through the lens of a starship captain.”  He chewed on his thoughts for a moment.  “I don’t know if I could decide to join Starfleet if I was in your shoes, Nat.  I…my introduction was slow and steady - I didn’t really hit a bump until I was three years into my career.”

Natalie went to the replicator and snagged a mug of coffee, and returned to her seat.  She had asked about his career in bits and pieces over the years.  “What happened?”

Ambrose sighed, “My Chief Engineer died in a pirate attack; we were attempting to break it up and rescue some transport ships.  Chief Dillon.  He was a good man but stayed just a little too long at his station.  I managed to get everyone out but lost the leg in the process.  Our ECH is named after the last one I saved.  It was a helluva thing.”

She played with her mug, wondering aloud, “So it’s not always like this?”

“Like the galaxy is on fire, and we don’t have enough extinguishers?”  She nodded quietly.  Ambrose shrugged, “I couldn’t tell you.  From the Erigone to the Eddie to the Mack…we’ve seen our share.  We’ve also stuck our noses into plenty, so maybe we’re the ones starting the fights in the end.”

Nat chuckled, amused. “My brother, a bully in space?  If anyone threw their weight around like a heavy shuttle, that was more my style.”  She took a sip, “To be fair, I learned some painful lessons when the inertia of consequences came flying back at me.”  The honey and lemon tea soothed her anxiety and allayed her fears that had been bouncing around like a herd of restless cattle ready to stampede.  The conversation with her brother was probably the more helpful salve on her soul.  “You think mom’ll be pissed?”

Her older brother wasn’t sure.  “Whatever it is you want to do, she’ll find it in her heart to support you.  Unless it’s piracy.  Then she’ll definitely be pissed.”  He gave her a quiet smile, “She loves you, Nat.  I expect you’re in for a long hug when we get back home.  She may never let you leave the ranch.”

She returned the quiet smile, “I’ve got a lot of apologizing and asking her for forgiveness when I get back.  What will she do with Aunt Pat and Uncle Larry?”

He shook his head, “I’m predicting she fires them and takes over.  Mom was never one for half-measures…and she and Uncle Larry have been at so many crossroads…her patience is probably running on empty.  You’ve seen when she’s running on fumes.”

Natalie cackled, “She sets fire to the rain…and everything else.  Man, I remember when that voice hit a certain wavelength…I knew she would find a far away boot camp to send me to or something.”

“You and she had some fights.”

His sister nodded solemnly, “We got through it.  We’ve started to love each other again, I think.  This mess will probably set us back.”

Ambrose gave her a look, “I think if you are honest, and throw yourself at her feet…and tell her everything?  There’s a chance she’ll only lock you in your room for a day, maybe two.”

It was her turn to give him a look, “You remember that?”

He chuckled, “Mom told me.  She thought it would help you.”

“Found my way out, didn’t I?”

The two of them laughed as they continued to share the stories and the love of their mother. 

“Every old Earth film about this kind of thing ends really…badly.”  Atega sat across from the chief science officer in science lab two as they were working over the various methods, ideas, and brainstorms on how to release the spirits of the Brenari from the Blood Dilithium.  Fowler was hunched over the console, building the list of ideas they were discussing.  Atega was an expert in communications systems, and Sadie had decided whatever they did, they'd need a way to communicate on a more permanent basis.

Fowler mused, “Well, this isn't the movies.  It's real and dangerous…and I don't even know if it's a good idea.  The spirits of the Brenari say they only want revenge on the Devore…but what happens when they get their piece of justice?  Where do they go from there?  I don't think going back into the dilithium is going to work.”

Presley was working on her console at the station, “If we were able to release them…communicating is going to be a problem.  They're contained within the Blood Dilithium, and the trumpet allows us to concentrate the beam…once they're out of the container…we'd have to reverse engineer the trumpet components.”

Sadie raised her eyebrows at the thought, “Could it be done?”  She knew with the assistance of engineering; science could create anything.

The communications chief pondered, “Well, the Universal Translator would have to be heavily modified - we will be playing with telepathic communication outside of a container.”  She tapped a few ideas into her console, “Instead of a beam, what about a field?  It wouldn't have to be a containment field…just a field tuned to the apparition of the Brenari consciousnesses.”

“It would need to be tuned just right - the trumpet took a lot of work to create, test, and finesse.  They had a bit more time than we do.”  Fowler sighed, “It's doable…probably.  The captain hasn't heard back from Starfleet yet on whether we can even release them…but I suppose we need to be ready if they say yes.  I'll get the teams together.”

Atega gave a distracted nod as she continued her work.

The chrono clicked over to 1600, and the low murmur of conversation and investigation continued as officers from science, engineering, and communications worked in tandem throughout the lab.  There had been some progress made but not enough.  The trumpet reverse engineering process was moving but had hit some walls along the way.  The communications work was moving at a halting pace as the science department was trying to craft a field that would draw from the nebulous cloud of Brenari and be able to transmit whatever signal was within to the next piece of the puzzle.

“We don't even know the contents or consistency of the eventual…cloud or spirit or…whatever it is.”  Atega was leaning back in the chair, hands on her forehead in frustration and contemplation.  “I know how to seek out signals from all kinds, types, and even eras of time.  I can delineate signal strength, bandwidth, frequency, and content given some time.  But we're talking about something…well, it's not quite biological, and it's not quite a nebula we can study.  Whatever this will be isn't going to fit any of the molds we have or had.”

Fowler grumbled, agreeing with her. “We can approximate, but until we have the thing in front of us…we're going to be shooting our phaser in the dark.”  A second thought came to her, “What if we could…confine the Brenari presence long enough after we release it to study it?  There are enough studies out there about this kind of thing to suggest a container that would hold it without too much difficulty or suffering on the subject itself.”  She motioned to Lieutenant Greer, and she bounded over with a smile.  Sadie explained to the assistant chief engineer her idea and how it would allow them to hold whatever was released securely and safely while they tried to communicate with it.

Greer felt a broad grin on her face, “Totally.  We can fabricate it - we'll have to make sure the thickness and materials of the material fit what you're looking to do.  Give us a few hours - we'll start building in Cargo Bay 3.”

She was off with a gaggle of engineers, and Sadie turned to Atega, “I think we might have a least a temporary solution if we manage to get them out of the dilithium.”  

The communications chief agreed, “I'll focus my teams on getting our end built up to a certain point where we can modify the variable parameters.”  Fowler sat back down at her desk and continued her work with new energy,

Cardamon had been silent in his seat since leaving the Mackenzie.  He'd had to give up his PADD and settled for the in-kind technology of his people.  it wasn't as functional and lacked access to the human's massive library of information.  It was helping him catch up on all that had happened since he'd fled seventy-five years ago.  The ambitions of his branch of the Voth had been extraordinary in the time he had been away.  They had improved ship design, ship operations, and ship functions.  The only place they had not advanced as quickly had been in weapons.

“You will find your way once you return home.  Your instincts and natural habits will slowly come back to you.”  Larsak sat in the cockpit of the transport ship as they flew through space at warp speed.  Cardamon had largely ignored him, and he continued to ignore him as his lidded eyes glanced out the window at the stars streaming by.  The Delta Quadrant was a massive place, and he had only seen a piece of it since taking his place on the Markonian Outpost.  Yet there was a bigger place he was desperate to see.  The Alpha Quadrant.  Where the people who crewed the Mackenzie come from - he had been reading all about it on his ship-issued PADD.  The beauty of Earth and its tortured but glorious history.  The missions of old Earth to the moon…and then beyond.

What awaited him on his home planet?  A backlog of weaponization and ship adaption to those weapons he had an eye and a mind to make - a legacy mired in blood and death.  He had glimpses of the Federation - the cooperation, the ideals, and the goals that held it together for so many years.  Cardamon had been delighted in reading about the imperfections of human history - instead of diving deeper into the murderous hole dug by war, genocide, and destruction - they somehow found a way out of the trap and into the future each time.  He had found wonder in the length of time it took each generation to find the better path and that in each story, there was this wild abandon for hope and the future.

He didn't want to go back.  He looked up from his inferior device.  He had made a deal to save the crew of the Mackenzie.  They were safe now.  If he could escape, would the Voth hunt down the Federation ship and visit their vengeance upon them?  Would they try and get through the wormhole to hunt him down in the Alpha Quadrant?  Would he ever be truly safe?  He considered his options.  Larsak had not bound him or restrained him.  Glancing carefully around, he wasn't surprised that weren't any energy weapons.  What did surprise him was the staff weapons that were strapped to the walls of the ship.  He wondered if they had been intended as decoration…or even as a fallback defense use in case traditional weapons failed.

Could he kill?  The question surged out of the back of his mind and danced around the front of his thinking.  There was no scenario where Larsek would go quietly, even if he managed to knock him unconscious.  Voth's recovery times were notoriously troublesome with blunt-force combat - it never failed to end in the death of one of the combatants.  Could he do it?  Could he do something he had sworn off since the day he'd fled his homeworld?  He considered the question.  If he returned home, he would hate his life and eventually find a way to escape - by life or death.  The twinge that pulled at him of the galaxy beyond the Delta Quadrant had grown as he had sat, hearing but not listening to Larsak.

It was decided.  He sprang up and snagged a staff weapon, the knife gleaming in the dull light of the transport ship.  He tossed it down, and it slid to rest on the floor beside Larsak.  Cardamon snagged his weapon from the wall and stood, staring down the High Commander.  “I am not going with you, Larsak.”

He stood from the chair in the cockpit and picked up the staff, eyeing Cardamon, “You're breaking the deal.  You have no chance of survival, fool.  Why would you do this?  Why is this risk worth it?”  He played with the staff, judging its weight and heft.

Cardamon swallowed his fears, “I am not like you and the others.  I want something more…something…better.  The Federation offers that.  They accepted me…and were…friends…are friends.”  He spat on the hold floor, “There is no friendship on our home planet.  Just more need for weapons and war.  It is not my life…or my destiny.”

Larsak bellowed a deep laugh, “Destiny?  You speak of destiny?  And of life?  Oh, Cardamon, you are lost farther from us than I thought.  Your heart is dead, the fire within worn to dust that blows away at the slightest breeze.  Your destiny is to die and die quickly.”

He gripped his weapon, adjusting his feet, “And what of my position?  And it's the requirement?”

A shrug, “Once you are dead, it will pass to the next.  It will take time to shake their mind…but I will personally see to it that they never leave us or forsake us.  They will be taught properly in the ways of the Voth.  You will become less than a memory.  You will be a spirit we curse as we prepare for battles.  We will invoke you as a dark spirit needing bled.”

Cardamon growled and felt his face grow hot as his ears heard his guttural roar for the first time in 75 years, “Enough talk.  Let one of us die here today.”  His hands tightened on the staff, and he screamed as he charged Larsak.

The staffs clashed as both Voth swung their battle staffs at each other.  Cardamon struggled as they parried back and forth in the transport ship’s passenger area and then farther back into the hold.  Larsak’s practiced moves started smooth but became more furious the longer Cardamon held him off – there had been a quiet rage boiling within the Voth High Commander that now exploded with a chaotic fire as the power and impact of his swings and parries became less smooth and more harried.

Cardamon winced at each impact as his body felt the impacts, his bones and teeth shaking as he ducked and dodged the mad attacks that kept coming.  the blade on the end had swiped against his leg once, and a dull red stain soon bloomed on his uniform pants.  Another close call had sliced at his right arm, filling the sleeves with sticky red blood.  Yet he fought on, growling and grunting as he had been trained for the first 25 years of his life.  He could sense Larsak’s desperation – his fellow Voth was not surrendering or giving up in the face of the rage from the High Commander.  In truth, Cardamon had kept his practices up in his spare time when he’d fled the homeworld.  He’d even worked when he was off the clock at his shop.  It had been a benefit the few times someone had deigned to try and rob him or hurt him.

Now he was fighting for his life.  They continued to clash back and forth until both staffs were worn raw enough to snap as they slammed against each other.  Wooden shavings and debris went everywhere.  There were no more staffs on the wall.  Cardamon realized it would come down to their hands.  It was a split-second decision, and he didn’t hesitate.  He jumped towards Larsak, startling him as he swing his claws across the Voth’s throat, cutting deep across the skin and eliciting a scream that soon became a gurgling shout of panic as the blood spurted and spilled from his neck.  Cardamon didn’t wait.  He jumped onto the High Commander, slamming his head into the metal floor, a dull thud echoing.  Larsak gurgled, his life slowly fading as he lamely tried to attack his killer.  “Why…you….did…kill….why.”

The rebel Voth sighed, “I remembered the lessons from our teachers.  Never hesitate.  Never give a moment to the enemy.  Kill them if you must.  Destroy them as you should.”  He regarded the high commander as the blood continued to bleed, his eyes fading slowly, “Why did you hesitate?”

A cough, which sent blood into Cardamon’s clothing, “I didn’t…think you would.  We would talk…find a way to bring you home.  You were always a talker.”  His skin began to fade in its color, “I regret…it came…to…this.”

Cardamon didn’t feel anything as Larsek’s life force faded, and his last breath sighed from his mouth.  He remained on top of the body, wondering what to say.  “I used to talk,” he muttered to the body of the Voth, “But you wouldn’t listen.  Nobody from our home would listen.  They only wanted me to help them kill.  To hunt.  To destroy.”  He stood roughly and regarded his old enemy one last time, “I do not regret that it came to this…it could not have ended any other way.”  He limped to the cockpit and sat in the chair, his shoulders free of the pressure.  He plotted a course back to the Markonian Outpost and threw the Voth transport into gear.  He sent out a message to the Mackenzie, unsure of when it would arrive.  He hoped it would be in time.

He wanted very much to see Montana.

“Captain, I'm detecting an inbound Voth transport ship in long-range sensors.”  Fowler worked her console and felt her heart rate pick up speed, “Computer is confirming this ship is the one that took Cardamon back to the Voth homeworld.”

Harris glanced at his chief of science, “Speed and path?”  They were on their way back to the Markonian Outpost as they were still working on the Blood Dilithium project.

“Current projections have us intercepting here.”  She tapped the console, and the viewscreen shifted to show the points where the two ships would meet.  “The Voth ship is running hot at warp six.  Sensors suggest it may shut down sooner than our meeting point.  The intercept waypoint is thirty minutes away.  Computer calculates the ship may stop about an hour away from us.”

Atega was distracted at her station as she read the message twice.  “Captain, I have a message from the transport ship…it's from Cardamon.  The message reads, ‘Starfleet, I am injured in battle and coming to you as fast as I can.  I need medical help and assistance.  Please respond.’  It just came through, sir."

Ambrose didn't need to think about it, “Prentice, adjust our course to intercept Cardamon.  Alert Doctor Reid that she's going to have injuries inbound.”

Kondo and the security team glanced around as the transporter beam faded.  Cardamon had been moved to the Mackenzie's sickbay.  The three others quickly scattered to the back of the transport and cleared the rooms within.  They returned, and all eyes fell on the body of Larsak, Voth High Commander of the Voth Expeditionary Force.  Kondo slipped out his tricorder and motioned for the others to begin their investigation.  Squatting down, he eyeballed the injury.  The neck had been dug into deeply by the claws of the Voth, and the blood had soaked and flowed onto the floor where it had coagulated.  They downloaded everything from the transport computer and continued to gather evidence.  The Chief Security officer tapped his badge, “Chief Kondo to Captain Harris.”

Harris glanced up from the center chair on the bridge, “Go ahead.”

On the transport, Kondo tapped at his PADD, “Scene is pretty brutal, sir.  Sending you the preliminary scans and report along with the data dump from the computer core.  No question that Cardamon killed Larsak.”

Ambrose pursed his lips.  What did you say to that?  Cardamon had been put in a position to sacrifice himself for their safety and protection…and into a future he had run away from seventy-five years ago.  He found himself placing himself into the metaphorical shoes of the Voth.  Grappling with identity and the meaning of life were just the beginnings of what Harrs imagined was banging around in the head of their new friend.  “Collect the evidence.  Have the coroner take care of Larsak's body and store it until we sort out how to get it to the Voth.”  Kondo confirmed and closed the channel.  

Prentice turned to face the CO, “What if the Voth want to charge him with murder?”

Harris sat back in his chair and blew out a breath of frustration, “I'm not sure what we're going to do.  The act was committed on a Voth ship between two Voth.  We'll have to examine the navigational data from the core to see where they were when the attack took place…and chart that on a map.  Given the lack of rule and law here in the Delta Quadrant…I have no idea.”

The Chief Helm Officer pressed, “Are we going to protect him?  Or give him up?” Okada cleared her throat from her station, and Will sheepishly apologized, turning back to his station.

Harris glanced at his XO and spoke to Prentice, “Lieutenant, it's a valid question.  Something we probably do need to discuss as a team.”  He looked around the bridge, “Whatever we decide - we have to be in complete agreement.”

Atega voiced her feelings, controlling the emotions that were rolling about in her stomach, “I don't think we can in good conscience return him when he clearly does not want to go back.”  She wanted to say more, and her passion for the aliens of the galaxy threatened to overwhelm her mouth.

Fowler considered their choices.  They had four days before the wormhole opened up again and let them through.  She wasn't sure how they would react to the murder of one of their own…by one of their own.  Who now resided in their sickbay under the care of their Chief Medical Officer.  Then there was the matter of the body they were storing. She ventured, “Has he asked for asylum?”  She glanced around the bridge and settled back on her CO.  “He hasn't been convicted of anything…we have our preliminary investigation, but we're not the Voth Security Force.  They would need to conduct their process.”

Kondo mused, “Lieutenant Fowler makes an interesting point.  We are not a security or law enforcement authority in the Delta Quadrant.  Our right to arrest and prosecute is…thin at best.  My investigation is in the early stages - further steps would be needed to confirm our suspicions on the allegations that are present aboard the Voth ship."  He affected a look of bemusement, “This is a most interesting scenario.  I could stall out the next pieces of the process…buy us some time."

Okada stood and leaned on the railing, “A lie?”

Kondo turned to face her, “An error.  It happens on occasion.”

Calog Tir was thinking, and his symbiont was musing wryly in his mind, ~Lying has a nasty habit of catching up with the liar.  You know this is a bad idea.~

He replied, ~You have any better ideas?~  

She was quiet for a moment and then sputtered, ~You could make that ship and the body… disappear.  Throw it into a sun or something.  Burn the shit into nothingness.  No trace, no crime, no problem!  They come asking - we don't know a goddamned thing!~

Calog wondered how many people Tir would have killed if she was given that chance. He sourly countered, ~A lie?~

Tir proudly responded, ~An Ommission.~

He cleared his throat, “I don't often share what Tir has to say on most of what we do here…but she has an idea.”  He shared the thought and shrugged as he finished retelling it, “It's not a great plan, and it's going to make explaining Cardadmon's presence on the ship hard to explain.”

Tir elbowed him in his mind, ~It's a great plan, dumbass.  You just need to accept it's genius."  He motioned her to the corner of his consciousness for now as his focus returned to the bridge.

Okada softly hit the railing and pointed at the Operations Chief, “It's not that terrible.  We do what they did with the Devore in the past - we store Cardamon in the transporter buffer, and when they come looking, we say we picked up some readings a few systems over…conveniently the system where we threw the ship and the body into the sun…something about weapons fire or something….they go and find faint readings of a ship's wreckage drifting close to the sun…and they make up their own story.”  She smiled, “I mean, it's terrible and breaks just about every rule we got but…this place has been breaking us, our rules, and our friends since we got here.” She gestured to the screen, “If they were in our shoes, they'd be doing what we're doing…only probably much worse and much more evil…er.”

Harris replied wryly, “So we're still going to have to lie.” 

Okada held up her hand and held her thumb and pointer finger apart an inch or so, “It's a little exaggeration.  We're just letting them fill in the pieces while we get to go home, and Cardamon gets a chance to live a life in our part of the Galaxy.”

Ambrose stood and glanced around the bridge, “All those in favor of lying, exaggerating, and committing errors a plenty on our way to save Cardamon?”  Every hand immediately went up, and he sighed with a quiet smile, “Well, here's to doing this the Delta Quadrant way.  Lieutenant Prentice - get with science and find us a sun with some burn to it.  Chief Kondo - get a tractor beam on that ship.  Once they have a system in mind, let's get moving.  I will find a way to convince Cardamon to ask for asylum.  I suspect he won't put up much of a fight.  Let's get to work, people.  Time is not our friend here.  Okada, you have the CONN.”  He entered the turbolift, and as it closed, he sighed deeply.

Four days.  Four damn days.  What could go wrong? 

“The Voth Transport ship went into the sun and was destroyed.  There was debris left over for the Voth to find.”  Calog Tir handed his commanding officer the PADD, “Larsek’s body was aboard, and our sensors were unable to find a biological trace among the debris.”  The Operations Chief remained at attention, “We pulled all sensor logs, reports, and anything associated with this…incident and placed the remaining copy on this isilonear chip.”  He gingerly set it on the captain’s desk.

Harris stared at the chip, aware of the risks they had all taken to craft this bit of subterfuge.  “I spoke briefly with Cardamon when he was conscious for a very short time - he asked for asylum before I could even prompt him.  I granted it.  I assume that is also on the chip?”  A nod from the Lieutenant.  Harris wondered, “I know Tir was the architect of most of this, so I know how she feels.”  He looked at Calog, “I wanted to ask you how you feel about it.”

A sigh was his first attempt at an answer.  He was an operations chief and responsible for the complete and absolute cooperation of each department, officer, crewman, and cadet.  A position steeped in rules and regulations, it tended to be a role suited for a rule follower and not a rebel.  Calog knew what he had wanted - Cardamon had quickly formed a connection with most of the crew in his short time aboard.  He had been on a mission to meet as many of those that served on the Mackenzie as possible.  The hunger for knowledge and stories of the Alpha Quadrant was insatiable for him, and the crew was thrilled to have someone so fascinated with their way of life.  He gamely tried to reply, “I know what the books say, sir.  I know we burned a few of them during our time here…and we’ve bent our share of the rules and regulations.”  He shifted his feet, “But…most of the time, we have a choice.  We understand the consequences of either side of the path we decide on - but we can make the choice.  Sometimes we don’t get the luxury of choice, sir.  This time we had the chance to choose to save him.  We didn’t last time.”

Ambrose couldn’t disagree with him.  “You make a strong argument, Lieutenant Tir.  Let’s get ourselves on our way back to the wormhole.  Get us a berth at the Outpost for a brief stop…and then we’ll get ourselves in the line.”

Tir grinned inside his mind with a warmth he’d rarely felt from her, ~You did well this time, idiot.  You might surprise me yet!~  

Calog ignored her as he headed back to the bridge.  Harris sighed as he eyed the chip.  They’d have to restore the computer data once they returned to Federation space with the Voth passenger.  As it was, he was having a tough time figuring out he would explain this in an actual report.  The door chime rang, and he absentmindedly called out, “Enter.”

His Chief Medical Officer and girlfriend stepped through the door and handed him a PADD, “I’ve managed to find a way to stem the bleeding.  Having a helluva time replicating the blood to replace what he’s lost.  I’ve got him in a medically induced coma with lots of IV fluids going in, hoping his body can replicate enough to get some balance going on.”  She sat down roughly in the chair, “This is one damn crazy plan we’re doing.”

Ambrose shrugged, “We gamed it out - there was no better solution that wouldn’t bring the Voth forces down on us with just days to go before we can get home.  He’s going to make it?”

“He will.  I hope the outpost has some cracking medical files I can get my hands on to get the blood transfusion solved.  Before we can think of going home, we need that problem solved.”

“You take it to Fowler?”

She gave him an annoyed look, “Yes.  She’s got two teams working on it.  They’ve had some promising results but nothing 100%.”

“We’ll find a way to save him.  I’m guessing we can’t put him in the transport buffer in a medically induced coma?”

The annoyed look evolved into her rolling her eyes, “Thank goodness you’re not the doctor on this ship.”  She stood and gave him a side smile, “We’ll find a way.”

She slipped through the doors, and he muttered, “We always do.”

The mornings had become the best time for their sessions.  Juliet preferred breaking bread with her patients. There were elements of vulnerability and community swirled together.  She sat across the table from her commanding officer, sipping on her coffee.  They were returning to the Markonian Outpost later that morning, and Cardamon’s condition was weighing on many hearts.  Juliet and her team had seen an uptick in requests for meetings.

She broke the silence by observing, “You got back in the chair.”  

He looked up from his waffles and nodded quietly, “I did.  Didn’t take long for another problem to come up.”  He sighed, “If we do this…hiding Cardamon and getting him through the wormhole…we’re all going to be complicit in a murder.”

The Chief Counselor set her cup down, “Was it murder?  Or self-defense?  Or…just a Voth bein’ pushed to make the hard choice to live in freedom or live in chains?”

Ambrose grumbled, “Or all three.”  He swirled his fork around the plate, “The more distance I get from the decision, the more I worry.  Between all the Federation ships in the Delta Quadrant…we’ve created a storm of unintended and intended consequences.  Every alien we’ve run into has said more or less the same – our presence here has changed things dramatically and not for the better.  The Delta Quadrant will never be the same.”

Woodward chewed on her pancakes as she listened.  A moment later, she contemplated, “Isn’t that part of what the Federation does?  We seek out new worlds an’ new civilizations.  Even with the Prime Directive, the galaxy changes with each interaction.”  She took a pull from her mug, “And who decides on ‘for the better’?  The Delta Quadrant?  You can’t get any of them to agree on anythin’ except war, destruction, blood, and how much the Federation sucks.  Given that, I have a hard time havin’ any kind of sympathy for this place, an’ it’s whinin’ about how much we be changin’ things ‘round here.”  She scoffed, “Risk is our business.  We take the good an’ the bad that results.”

Harris stared at her, remembering why he’d hired her.  She spoke plainly, simply, and directly.  Nobody could accuse Juliet Woodward of holding back.  If they did, she might punch them. Twice. “And the consequences?”

She considered his question, “We might be headed into 2401…but we still live in a broken and messed up universe. No matter how hard we fight, no matter how long we talk, an’ no matter how much we negotiate…there’s always going to be the good, the bad, an’ the ugly.”

Ambrose’s voice was quiet now, “And death?”

She sighed, “That’s ‘the ugly’.  Risk is our business.  An’ so is loss.”

He grumbled, “What step am I on? Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, or acceptance?”

Juliet finished off her plate and sat forward at the table, “Sometimes it’s linear.  Other times it’s a game of hop, skip, jump, an’ back again.”  She opined, “It’s also not a sprint.  It’s a marathon…an’ you’re not alone as you run, walk or take a rest on the side of the road.”

It was his turn to sigh, “So that’s why it’s so exhausting.”

Woodward affirmed, “Your mind is expending social, emotional, an’ physical energy to work through this…on top of your daily command duties.  It’s not easy.”

He grunted, “If it were easy, everybody would do it.”

Juliet smiled quietly, “Everybody eventually does…an’ we’re here to walk alongside you, Captain.”

He regarded his plate, “That helps.  I don’t want to imagine trying to do this on my own.”  He looked up, “Let’s keep walking for now…I’ll know when I’m ready to run.”

“You’re getting better on your feet.  Your hands gotta stay up at your face more, but that flow of your hands in the right and lefts…together with the uppercuts?  You’re making some good progress.”  Juliet sat in the bridge observation lounge, a Synthehol rum and coke, while Kondo gave her an update on her skills in the ring. He was sipping at a Moscow Mule.  They were not in uniform.

She grinned, “Well, it’s good an’ all to hear that I am progressin’ in my in-ring talents.  You did say we were probably goin’ to start sparrin’ next week when we’re back in the Alpha Quadrant.”  She gestured with her glass at him, “You are goin’ to need all the help you can get.” Kondo chuckled and glanced up as the team of Okada and Greer walked in, debating the factors involved in warp core stabilization.  They continued to debate as they collected their drinks and sat down across from the other two.  Greer was getting better, Juliet was happy to note.  They’d been working through their sessions to help her find her confidence and courage while working through the trauma she’d experienced.    Soon the rest of the command crew had filled in the tables, and the low, relaxed chatter filled the room.  Woodward glanced around, taking a headcount. The only one missing was their commanding officer.  Before she had a chance to ask Kondo, the door opened, and Harris stepped through.

Atega and a few others moved to stand, and he quickly motioned them off.  He moved to the front of the lounge and waited for the conversations to slowly fade away.  He wasn’t dressed in uniform either.  It had been part of the invite he’d sent out.  The ECH was on the bridge with the Gamma Shift crew.  He smiled as he glanced around the room.  Clearing his throat, he began to speak, “Tomorrow, we’re scheduled to return to the Alpha Quadrant.” A cheer went from the gathered command crew, and his smile grew a little wider as he continued, “There’s a lot of things we’ll have to do once we get back home, but I’m not going to burden you with that tonight.”  His smile slipped into a sly grin.  He hadn’t told anyone about his plans, not even his XO.  He’d sworn the kitchen staff and galley crew to secrecy. “There was an old Earth tradition specific to North America practiced called, ‘Thanksgiving’.  It fell in and out of practice for various reasons over the years.  The core tenet that held on and off over the years was a celebration of thanks, gratitude, and gathering together to share food and fellowship.  Families and friends would join together to celebrate the year and all the good that had come.”  He gestured to the gathered crew, “Tonight, I’ve gathered us together to celebrate our first Thanksgiving together as a command crew.  I managed to smuggle most of the meal ingredients aboard before we left.”  He listed the traditional fare, from turkey to mashed potatoes to stuffing to green bean casserole to various other selections based on geographical locations.  Harris waited a beat as the murmuring of the gathering faded out.

“I am thankful for each of you – those that started with us on the Erigone… those that joined us on the Eddie…and those that have come to call the Mack home.  In the time we’ve been together, we’ve experienced…a lot.  We sit here tonight together, bound by friendship, camaraderie, and by duty.  We’ve shared in the good, the bad…and the ugly.”  He let the silence hold as each of them reflected on what those words meant for each of them.  He picked back up with, “We’ve shared in it all.  I am thankful for that – that we are together.”  He felt his emotions swirling up and was saved as the kitchen and galley staff slipped out from behind him.  “Ah. Chef Galloway.”

The older woman gave him a knowing grin and turned to the crew, “Alright.  Food is arranged on the tables behind me – you can take what you’d like and come back for more.  Get to it!”  Harris stepped aside as the command crew stood and began to line up.

Natalie Harris sat at a far table in the corner, stabbing at the various kinds of turkey that had been offered.  Boiled, baked, deep fried, and smoked were just some of the options.  She’d kept to herself since her conversation with her brother three days ago.  She’d quietly let Okada know she would need some time to think about her future with everything that had happened.  The Chief had been understanding.  Now she wondered what she would do when she went back home.  Return to Harris Transport?  Her mother would strongly recommend she seek out a college or university option to help expand her knowledge.  The specter of her cousin’s death still weighed on her heart, and walking back through the doors of the place she’d secretly fled…wasn’t going to be easy.

“May I join you?” Natalie glanced up to find Ensign Presley Atega standing at the chair across from her.  She gave a quiet nod.  The Communications Chief slid into the seat, “Thank you.  I have a habit of finding corners of the room to hide in…figured I should break out of my shell a little.”

Harris blinked.  Twice.  “You’re shy, and you’re in communications?”  She put her hand to her mouth and groaned, “I am so sorry…that was…real shitty…I mean…jerky.  Crap.”

Atega laughed out loud, her smile wide with sudden joy, and she waved off the engineering cadet’s worry, “I… don’t worry about it cad…it is ok if I call you Natalie?  We’re not on duty…and my counselor in my previous command told me I should try and…get to know people beyond just rank and last name…you know?”

Natalie knew.  “I know how that goes.  Your name is Presley, right?”

She nodded as she enjoyed the loaded mashed potatoes.  She took a drink from her Old Fashioned and replied, “My full name is Presley Paris Madlangbayan Atega.  My family was super traditional…and so I got the four names.”  She blushed at the admission, “It’s weird, I know.”

Harris regarded the ensign and her words.  “I don’t think it’s weird.  Different, maybe…but it’s what makes you who you are, you know.”  She offered, “Trust me, if you knew half of the stories about my extended family…you might call us weird.”

Atega blushed at her kindness, “Well, we’ll just be weird together, I suppose.” They both chuckled.

“You’ve been pretty quiet.”  Prentice sat across from Sadie Fowler as they feasted on the buffet.  She swirled her potatoes in the gravy, her eyes staring a hole in her plate.  “You okay?”

She shook herself loose from her reverie, “I…don’t know.”  She took a bite and took a pull from her iced cider.  A moment passed, “I was an orphan.”  She spoke it plainly, an admission she hadn’t said out loud to anyone.  She gestured to the table and the gathering, “I never knew my family.”

Will wasn’t sure what to say as her confession had come out of the blue.  “I’m sorry, Sayd…I didn’t know.”  They’d started to grow closer in the last few months, and their conversations had started to become more personal.  She hadn’t been sure how to share her story.  As they’d grown closer and closer to each other, it had become an almost nightmare for her trying to know how best to let out the secret she held close to her heart.

“I…celebrations were hard.  The Sisters were traditional in what they did – so we’d have a thanksgiving, a holiday celebration in December…but it never felt…right.  It wasn’t that the sisters didn’t love me or care for me…but something was missing in it, you know?”  She took another drink, “I wish this was real alcohol.  Goddamn.”  She gestured around the room, “This whole…crew thing has been a new experience for me.  There have been moments where I felt like…this was what I was missing?  That this could be what my family was supposed to be for me.”  Fowler wiped away the tears that flitted at the edges of her eyes, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, Will…and I don’t know how to feel.  I know it feels good and warm and right, and it’s…what I need.”

Prentice slid over to sit next to her and slid his hand into hers under the table, “I’m here.”  He didn’t pull her to him or lean into her.  He simply held her hand as she processed.

She whispered, “Thank you, Will.”  The memories of the Sisters of Mercy flashed in the back of her mind.  “I was the luckiest unluckiest kid ever.  They did everything they could for me.  It still wasn’t enough to patch up the hole in my heart.”  She leaned into his shoulder, “I’m still lucky, though.  I got to be part of this crew…and I got to be part of us.”  

Will pulled her close, “I’m thankful to be a part of us too, Sayd.”

“You’ve never done a drag race in a shuttle?”  Greer Moore was across the table from Calog Tir and staring at him in shock and awe, “You are missing out, man.  Whenever I’m back home, the brothers and I go at it.  I’m back to back champion for the last two years.  Going home is going to be an adventure, let me tell you.”

Tir was in his ear, laughing like a hyena, ~She is my kind of girl, Calog!  Man, she’d run you over three times and then break you in half if you would loosen up and follow her into bed!~

Calog turned red with embarrassment as he did his level best to ignore his symbiont.  He laughed lamely, “Well, I’ve never been one for adventures or daredevil things…I prefer books and digging into the latest journal.  I wouldn’t even know where to start learning how to…you said drag race?”

Moore cackled, “Well, sheeiit.  I can teach you!  Hell, if you’ve got some time when we get back and have some shore leave – I can show you how we do it…brothers would be game to give you some pointers too!”

Tir purred, ~Oh, she would be so good for you. She’d be the right kinda shock to your system, buddy.  I would love a ride-along when she eventually takes you down.~

His face reddened even more, and Greer gave him an odd look, “You feeling okay there, Calog?”

He sighed, “My symbiont…doesn’t have a filter.  She’s always in my ear, and she’s a bit of a wild card.”

Tir crowed, ~A bit?  A bit!?  The hell you say!  I’m a badass wild child, esquire. Thankyouverymuch.~

Greer set her head on her palms, “What’s she saying about me?”

He could hear Tir’s out-of-control verbal monologues as he slowly pushed the door shut against her, locking it.  She’d find a way out in fifteen minutes, but he needed a break from her.  “Nothing I’d care to repeat if I’m honest.”

“Does she at least like me?”

Calog took a drink from his hot chocolate, suddenly thirsty for something stronger as he admitted, “Oh yes.  She likes you.  A little too much.”

Greer cackled and shook her head, “Man, Tir is my kinda badass.”

Harris and Reid sat at their table, taking in the gathered crew.  Ambrose was sipping at a whiskey while Jordan enjoyed some saki.  She glanced at him, “How’s the stuff with Juliet going?”

He sipped at his tumbler, “It’s going.  I think I will be at it awhile if I’m honest.”

She gave him a knowing half-smile, “I had a feeling.  There are a lot of layers with this stuff.  Sometimes you gotta do the digging over a long period…can’t get the hole dug overnight.”

Harris chuckled softly, “It is interesting…as advanced as we are and as much as we know about everything…we still have a basic need of talking it out.”  He grasped his cup in his hands, “We’re both simple and complex in what we need, who we are, and where we’re going.  A maddening paradox sometimes.”

Jordan nodded quietly, “I remember a piece from my Shakespeare studies in school.  The line is, ‘What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god: the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust?’  As big as we think we are…and as much as we think we know…we’re also just dust.”  She shrugged, “We are all paradoxes, Ambrose.  Infinite and finite.  Gods, angels…and dust.”

He gave her a look, “I never figured you for ancient earth literature.  That’s one way to interpret that passage from Hamlet.”  He said it with a dry smile, and she rolled her eyes.

“You know what I was trying to say.  I forget you keep the old stuff on your shelves.”

He gave her a nod of thanks, “I know what you were saying…and…I appreciate it.  Life is wonderful, and life is terrible…and usually all at the same time.  I’m thankful I get to live it with you, Jord.”

She took one last draw from her cup, “RIght back atcha, Amb.  Right back atcha.”

“Nothing from the Voth?”  Harris stood beside the communication station, a mug of coffee in his hand.  

“Nothing.  Long-range sensors picked up their search pattern in the area….but no communication was detected. An hour later, they left the system, and we tracked their course back to the homeworld.”  She was as confused as he was, given their history with Cardamon.  She had expected at least a cursory questioning hail regarding if they knew anything.  The silence bothered her, and she could tell it was getting under the skin of her CO as well.  Atega offered,  “We've been cleared for departure from Starfleet Command.  We're in 10th place this time around.”  The USS Mackenzie had arrived at the wormhole demarcation point earlier that morning.

Harris pondered the steaming cup, “Peculiar.  Do you think Larsak was lying?”

Presley opened her mouth to speak but stopped as she considered.  They didn't know the ins and outs of this group of Voth to judge.  "Lying about…?

“About what would happen to Cardamon.  The deal was that he would return to his position with the Voth and start up his work for them again.  We didn't ask either of them what that would look like.”

Her eyes grew wide, “You think he was going to be imprisoned to do the work?”

Ambrose mulled over the various scenarios he had been imagining, “I was considering they'd shackle him to a table or something.  Given how Larsak was going to kill him when he refused…I think we were blinded to the horrors of his life.”  He pushed off the wall, “As for why they haven't come to ask or sought us out…maybe they've decided it's not worth trying to get him back with all the trouble he's given them.  First, he left, then he survived a murder attempt, then he brought the Hirogen to their door…and then he killed their High Commander.  You put that on a simple scale; you start to wonder how much more damage he'll do if given the chance.”

The communications chief frowned, “Well…that does beg the question, sir….”  She didn't like voicing the concern, but she was unable to shake the irrational fear that had crept up on her mind.

He sighed, “If he's this much trouble to the Voth….how much trouble could he be for us?  It's valid.  The difference is…we weren't trying to tell him what to do, where to go, and how to do it…we gave him the freedom to choose.  He'll have to go through customs, inspections, and interviews - everything an asylum seeker is required to complete.  If Starfleet rejects him, he'll sit at the Starbase until the wormhole opens up."  He drained his cup, “Signal Starfleet Operations, we're moving to our place in line.”  He returned to the center chair, “Lieutenant Prentice, move us to where we need to be.”

The bridge fell into the old habits as the Excelsior II class starship rumbled carefully into the growing line of ships returning to the Alpha Quadrant.  Some were staying, but Harris had turned down the offer for another month in the quadrant.  They'd had their fill of the place, thankyouverymuch.  He'd found the diplomatic way of saying it with a quiet smile.  The chrono under the viewscreen clicked over to 0800 hours.

The beauty of a wormhole's exploding opening never got old.  The explosion of motion, color, and power shook each of those that watched it, the awe of such a formation still sending shivers down spines - an open portal across space and time.  The bridge fell silent as the ships in the line moved forward until it was the Mackenzie's turn.  Harris spoke quietly, “Yellow alert.  Alert all crew; we're headed into the wormhole.”  He waited until the soft klaxon had finished whispering its alert, then ordered, “Take us in, Lieutenant Prentice.”

The Mackenzie seemed to fly easier as it slipped through the wormhole on its way home.

The cold December air was bracing, and Ambrose took a deep breath of it as he walked along the walkway to the platform that stood above the operations center of Harris Transport.  Behind him ambled Cardamon bundled up tightly in a form-fitting winter coat, a beanie hat stretched over his head in what would be considered comical by most but endearing by those that were joining the Voth on this cold December morning. Natalie Harris led the way with Juliet and Sadie at her side with mugs of steaming coffee in their hands.

“I did not imagine the Montana would be so…what is the human word for this climate condition?”  Cardamon looked to Ambrose for answers.

Harris chuckled, “It's called cold, Cardamon.  This is December.  You're lucky it's not snowing.”

If the Voth could frown effectively, he would have.  Instead, he muttered about annoyances in his language as he hobbled along the path.  He was starting to wonder if perhaps he'd held this Montana place in too high a regard.  He continued to mutter and mumble until they reached the top of the platform.  The horizon was starting to lighten, and the scattered clouds in the sky starting to illuminate.  Natalie nudged him, “This is where it's worth it.”

The sun slowly began to rise, and within moments the sky, the clouds, and the world became a collection of colors that brought Cardamon to silence as his eyes beheld many shades of yellow that first cascaded up and into the clouds as the spectrum of oranges painted further into the big sky.  The blue hue swirled in and around the warm colors creating a masterpiece in the eyes of the Voth.  He didn't speak as the sun continued to climb, throwing beams of light through the scattered puffs of clouds, and the beauty of the place they had called ‘Big Sky Country' became readily apparent.  He shook his head in disbelief as the sun soared into the sky, and the warmth of it began to reach his skin, his eyes, and his heart.  “This…Montana is incredible.”

Natalie smiled, “There's so much more.  We haven't even shown you the mountains…the lakes…the waterfalls…or even the rivers.  We're going to go fly fishing, you and me.”

He clapped his mittened hands together in anticipation and joy, “I cannot wait to try these things.  All of them.”  He looked to the others, “I am thankful to have known such humans in my life.”  He went and hugged each of them.  It was no longer awkward or a surprise.  It had simply been something Cardamon did.  He had consciously decided to leave behind the practices of bowing and distance.  There was something about the contact that hug brought him the warmth of hope.  He couldn't explain it.  It just felt…right.  He was where he was supposed to be.  He said, “I understand I am to experience a traditional Montana Ranch Breakfast?”

Ambrose spoke up, “Mom's got the kitchen crew cooking up the classics.  Jordan, you wanna lead them on down?”  She gave a whistle to the group and took charge.  Soon it was just the two members of the Harris family.  They took to leaning on the platform.  

Natalie spoke first, “That funeral was brutal, Amb.”  She shook her head, “I don't think our family will be okay anytime soon.”  She glanced at him, “Aunt Pat and Uncle Larry left right after the funeral.  Headed to Florida.”  She sighed, “What do we do?”

“I don't know.”  He stared at the sprawling complex below. Rafael had been charged and placed in the custody of the county security office.  His sorrow and regret were palpable.  Ambrose hoped it would lead him down a better path than his brother.  The funeral had been brutal.  Very few spoke for Julian, and the gathering was small.  Harris had spoken about Julian's regret in how things had turned out and that he believed his cousin.  He'd stolen a look at Rafael in those moments, and the tears that filled the younger cousin's eyes were evidence of the deep injury he had suffered.  “Mom's taking retirement from Starfleet to run the company.  She'll clean up what needs cleaning.”  He turned to her, “She's going to need help.  You know this place as well as anyone.”

She stared at him, “I stole from this place!  I let him talk me into stealing ships and flying on a half-ass plan into the Delta Quadrant without a plan or an idea of what the hell I was doing!”  She wiped tears from her face, “I can't face the people I betrayed.  I'm the worst of them.”

Ambrose let the words echo as he reached for his sister's hands and grasped them, “You did all of that, Nat.  You own it.  Now is your chance to do the right thing and fix what is broken.  You're one of the better technicians we've had…and you know it.”  He stepped away and paced around, letting the warm sunshine slide around his face, “You also care about people, Nat.  You stood up when you realized what they were up to - They had to tie you up!”  He turned to face her, “You're going to make mistakes.  You're going to fuck up.  You're going to hurt…and you're going to hurt people in the process.  That's just the way of things.”  He shook his head, “But that isn't your destiny.  Your story isn't defined by the ugly chapters.  It's defined by what you do in the moments after - do you make amends and work to fix, patch, and heal?  Or do you run away and ignore the need to do the work on yourself to prevent repeating the same pain?”

She walked up to him and hugged him tightly.  They held each other until she pulled back, “I've missed this part of you, Amb.  You've never stopped teaching me not to walk away from myself and my…issues."

The older of the two shrugged, “Older brother job description.  We all need a reminder every so often.”

She hugged him again, “You make me want to be better.  I'm glad I got you as a brother.”

He returned the embrace, "I'm glad I got you as a sister.  You give me hope."  He glanced at his chrono, “I think we're going to be very late for breakfast.  I'll race you.”

Natalie cackled as she took off running, and Ambrose groaned as he ran after her.