“You’re not alone in questioning the narrative.”  Persefoni Hargraves sat at the expansive table in the Captain’s Mess.  She handed a PADD over, “We took our time on Janoor III gathering witness statements, evidence, data, and reports.”  Reid glanced through the screen as the Olympic Journal’s Editor in Chief explained how they were being prevented from publishing but not, she pointed out, stopped from gathering materials for future publication.

McKee held up her own PADD, “We’ve been doing the same as we’ve traveled…plenty of believers in the people who’ve been beaten up…but you’re right – there’s a weird disconnect with everyone outside of those who are here.”  She passed it down the table to Hargraves, who began to read.

Crawford paused in his meal, “The people of Janoor III were pretty resistant to us – there’s been plenty of suspicion about anyone outside of their local Task Group out here in Deneb.  There’s a tide to be turned, even with the truth staring a lot of them down from orbit.”

Natalie shook her head in disbelief, “I don’t get it.  I mean, I’ve had plenty to say about Starfleet Command’s dysfunction, but this…feels different.  There’s indifference…and then there’s whatever the hell this is.”  She cringed, “Sorry, Captain Crawford.”

Pete replied, “You’ve gotten a taste of it, Ms. Harris.  We’ve all felt the same ‘hellish’ confusion since we found our way into Deneb.  I can’t speak of the operational side of Fourth Fleet with civilians, but I can say we’re not alone in trying to understand what’s happening.”  He stood, and the gathered senior staff did as well.  “I’ll leave you all to it.  Ms. Harris, McKee, and Reid – you’re welcome to join our efforts to help the colony below.”  He left the room, and the dinner group broke up.

Jordan spotted her former Mackenzie crewmates making their way over.  She waved off Natalie and Elizabeth, “I’ve got some catching up to do.”  They both hugged her tightly and left the expansive dining room.  

“We’ve missed you, Jord.” Juliet Woodward sat at a large round table in the crew mess with Fowler, Prentice, Atega, and Moore.  “We didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.”  Her tone was one of concern for her friend and not an accusation of guilt.

Jordan looked at each of them, her eyes reflecting sadness and joy at sharing space with them again.  She tried to explain, her words starting slow as the emotions of loss remained recent and fresh.  “I…I ran because I didn’t know where I was…or where I was supposed to be.  Everything I had known for the last year was around…him.  Ambrose was the man who changed my life…my career…and my heart.”  She sipped at her drink, wincing at the ginger, “He was my first real constant light…and he was open to me.”  Reid swallowed her emotions, “Everything and everyone on the Mackenzie reminded me of him…I couldn’t look at any of it.”

Sadie leaned into the arms of her boyfriend.  Reid had been the strongest woman she’d known, and her departure after the death of Captain Harris had shaken her.  What did that mean for the rest of them if Jordan couldn’t stay standing?

Presley Atega was first, “I understand, Doctor Reid.  I don’t hold it against you.  We all experienced the loss of Captain Harris in our own way.”  She’d cried for the first time since her freshman year at the academy.  “None of us handled it very well.”

Greer raised her glass, “It wasn’t easy.  Yet here we all are, standing strong.”  She gestured around, “I remember that first time we all sat down with Juliet…most of us were ready to quit.”  It had been a raw meeting with rough conversations and lots of silence.  “We kept coming back to talk about how we were feeling.”

Woodward returned the glass toast, “We did…and we all found our own way.”  She returned to Reid, “We’re still working on finding our way, Jord…the grief journey is a long one.”

Jordan had been thinking over their words as they’d talked, “Someone told me once that nobody should struggle alone.”  She shook her head, “I don’t know if I can come back to Starfleet yet.  I’ll be honest…I’ve missed…this,” she motioned around the table with a reserved smile, “…I still need to figure out who I am…and what I am.  Losing Ambrose has made me rethink a lot of it.”

Fowler understood, “We’re never finished living and learning life…don’t ask me who said it, but it’s been something I’ve been thinking about.”

The group continued sharing into the late hours of the night as they remembered what made them a crew in the first place.  They eventually all returned to their quarters.  As Reid crawled into her bed, she felt her heart full for the first time…and the ache within had lessened.  There was power in community..

“This is a beautiful sickbay, Captain Dread.”  Jordan Reid was wearing a lab coat and had been handed a tricorder and medical kit.  She had spent the early part of the morning walking around the Olympic, exploring the ship in awe and wonder.  The Mackenzie was big, but she wasn’t specialized like this ship was.  “It’s hard to believe this ship is thirty-five years old.”

Helena walked with her through the corridors, “Well, don’t tell her that, Ms. Reid.  She’s had a few refits in her time to keep her at the forefront of her operational theatres.  She’s got another forty-five years on her clock.”  She stopped outside a room and scanned the display screen, “She’s a big ship with a big mission…we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

They walked to a nurses station where Dread glanced at proffered PADDs while Reid soaked in the world around her.  This was a genuine medical posting where scientific study was held as a sacred duty.  She’d been reading the Olympic Journal on her off time and finding the varying studies and essays profoundly fascinating.  Reid followed her as Captain Dread continued her rounds, giving the civilian doctor a tour without it being a tour.  They paused at two more nurses’ stations and stopped at one of the Deputy Chief’s offices.  Reid was confused, “This office is empty….”  Dread looked to Reid, then to the office…and then back again.  “You can’t be serious, Captain.  I’m…”

Helena raised a hand to stop her, “I’m not offering you the job today, Ms. Reid.  I’m asking you to consider joining our crew once you’ve had time to build a map for your road to grief recovery.  The Olympic is a big ship with a big mission.  She’s got lots of room for people who care.”  She saw a flash of emotion flit across the face of the young woman.  “Think about it, at least.  You’ve got friends here… it would be a fresh start.”

Reid felt like she was being sold on something and opened her mouth but was interrupted by the red alert klaxon and the voice of Captain Crawford squawking through sickbay, “Captain Dread to the bridge!”

“An earthquake?”  Dread stood behind Fowler at the science station as the various screens focused on the location outside the main city.

Fowler felt her nerves jangling as she ran her hands over the console.  It had come out of nowhere.  The trill warning beeps had startled her, and the surge of adrenaline wasn’t slowing. “Registering 6.5 on the Richter scale…it was a two-minute event.”  Sadie glanced over to her head of geology, “Samson, can you validate the fault lines involved?”

The young officer nodded and began to review the scans they had run upon arrival, “There are multiple fault lines across the planet…five majors.  Three are on the other side of the planet, one on a lower continent…and the last one is…in a deep ocean trench.”

Sadie stared at him, “There are no major fault lines near the city?”  Jeremy Samson shook his head and focused the sensors on the area around the city.  The bridge collectively held its breath as the scan was completed.

His head shook slower this time, “That…doesn’t make sense.  There should be…”

Crawford answered the question out loud, “Mr. Samson, put a team together.  We need a clear understanding of the focal point of the event.”  He spun in his chair, “Dread, I need you on the response to the city.”  He cocked his head on, seeing Jordan Reid nervously holding down the far corner of the bridge, “Ms. Reid, I’m temporarily placing you under the command of Captain Dread – we need every able body down there responding to the situation.”  He stood and moved to his operations chief to coordinate the response.

Jordan’s mouth had fallen open. Protesting as Dread walked towards her, “Captain, he can’t do that!”

Helena raised her eyebrows as she pulled Reid into the turbolift, “Well, he just did.  You’re with me.”  She gave a wry smile as the doors closed and the elevator plunged towards the transporter rooms. 

“They don’t want it?”  Elizabeth McKee was annoyed.  

The operations chief shrugged, “They said something about. ‘not needing a savior’ and something about ‘hand me downs.’  They were at least thankful for the offer before they turned it down.”  Calog understood the frustrations of the former Starfleet officer.  “The good news is that you’ve got a ride home.”

McKee changed the subject as she glanced around the bridge.  The science teams were busy examining sensor logs and data surrounding the earthquake event.  “What do you think?”  She had initially thought it was a coincidental event coming at the worst time and place for the colony.  After the confusing scans gave them more questions than answers, she wondered what was happening.

“I’m an operation’s chief, not a scientist.”  He shared her wonderings, as did anybody on the ship.  “It does beggar belief that an earthquake without verifiable cause could just…happen.”  He handed her a PADD. “Went ahead and changed ownership and permissions for the SS Ambrose.  She’s yours to command.”

“You don’t understand.  We had been researching this technology to prevent them, not create them.”  Jordan stood in a medical tent filled with mobile biobeds, each occupied with varying severe and minor injuries.  There had been no fatalities, and she had been tasked with interviewing the survivors to see what they knew.  Gerald Hoyt was her current interviewee, and he was trying to explain to her what had happened.  “I’m the head of the Jolla Geological Survey Group…we had put in a good ten years of research and prototype building.”

Jordan rubbed her forehead as she tried to get her mind around what Hoyt was saying, “So the Dominion attacked Jolla, found your facility with a scan, and then took the prototype device…and used it?”

He shook his head, “It was a prototype ship, Doctor Reid.  It was built to use a propriety system to dig into fault lines and calculate the chances of an earthquake.  We had established a few far-reaching settlements on the other side of the planet… earlier earthquakes leveled them.  We would figure out the best area without fault interference to place a new settlement or two.”

Reid asked, “But you didn’t think to worry about someone reverse engineering the technology to cause an earthquake?

Hoyt’s shoulders collapsed as he confessed, “They didn’t reverse engineer it, Doctor.  They…it was a built-in part of the system – if you could use the sensors to dig into the fault lines, the system could use other implements to otherwise… affect the fault lines.  We didn’t think to build in protective measures because we….”

Jordan finished it, “You didn’t think anyone would use it for such a thing.”

The man started to cry, “We did this to our own people…we’re the monsters.”

Reid resisted the urge to slap him, “You couldn’t have predicted the Dominion showing up and taking your ship.”  She waved over Helena Dread and explained what she had found out.  

At each turn, the Captain’s eyes widened until she shook her head in disbelief.  “You gotta be shitting me, Director Hoyt.”  He morosely stared at the ground, and Dread turned to Reid, “The colony rejected your ship donation…which is good.  Get the data on the ship from Hoyt, and get the others ready…we’re sending you after this ship.  Hoyt, how fast is it?”

Gerald mumbled, and Dread slapped the back of his head.  He looked up, shocked.  She stared him down as if to say, ‘Yes?’ he responded clearly, “Warp 3 – she doesn’t have much.”

Helena accepted Reid’s medical tricorder and lab coat, “Stop that ship, Doctor Reid…by any means necessary.”  Jordan took off running, requesting transport back to the Olympic.  Dread turned to Hoyt, “Now…let’s talk about whatever else you all have been doing here.”

“Sensors showing the ship in the next sector…unescorted.  Moving at warp 3.”  Reid spoke from the rear science station, “Intercept time…less than an hour at maximum warp.”  She felt a thrill fly through her spine.  There was something about the possibility of boarding and taking a ship.  Jordan hadn’t been given to adrenaline adventures in the past.  At the moment, she was ready to send the SS Ambrose screaming through space to intercept the science ship.

McKee was quietly thankful for the handheld weapons they’d been provided from the Olympic.  They collectively had very little security training.  It had been Captain Crawford’s suggestion to send two of the Hazard Team with them to assist in taking the ship. Lieutenant Finlay Florin from Engineering and Lieutenant Conlan Gonzaga from Science were readying themselves in the crew mess with Natalie.  The Harris Team Lead ordered them to intercept, fastest speed.  Reid input the command, and the SS Ambrose was off and running.

“You should think about Starfleet, Harris.” Finlay was working through his equipment spread across one of the tables.  Natalie had been sharing her story and her ideas on what the future held for her.  “Engineering is the best out of all of them,” he stuck out his tongue at Gonzaga’s dramatically rolling eyes, “….and you get to work under pressure when the ship side of things go south.”  He began to slip on his vest.

Natalie admired the two men – for their willingness to take on the risk and danger of the Hazard Team but also for how good they looked.  The athleticism was impressive, but she reasoned it had to be – when you were called on to jump into the most dangerous situations, you had to be fit for the duty required.  “Mom always says I’m the adventurous one…they called me ‘The Wild Thing’ when I was a kid.  Climbed anything, jumped over everything..”

Conlan smiled, amused, “It is often the case that engineers are the rebels of the world.”  It was Finlay’s turn for a mock rolling of the eyes.

Harris gestured at the science officer, “What about you?  Were you the perfect child, then?”  She had her own ideas of Gonzaga’s life as a kid, but she wanted to see if her imagination measured up.

“I was a quiet one…I read, studied, learned, and mastered as much as I could…graduated high school early…spent a lot of time in the library before I was able to enroll in Starfleet.  I always dreamed of serving on an Olympic class…took me a few years, but I made it here.”  He slipped on his vest, “I was a boring child, Ms. Harris.  Perhaps that is why the Hazard Team appealed to me.” He slotted his equipment into the utility belt, “You still haven’t answered the question, Harris.”

Natalie wrinkled her nose in annoyance, but a smile was beneath it.  The more she talked about it with everyone, the more she felt like she would end up at the academy, staring at the doors with expectation.  “Mom was Starfleet for a long time…you know about brother…there’s some history farther back with the Harris family flying through space.”

Florin strapped his utility belt into place, “Legacy can be a powerful motivator.  I knew a few in my academy class that was trading in on family that had served before…and man, when they washed out, they washed out hard.”  He chuckled, remembering a few of the more memorable moments.

“What do you mean… trading in on family?”  Natalie was frowning, and the engineer explained.

“They thought their last name meant something…like their family’s history would bring them some kind of following in the academy.  It works for the first few days…but then you have to get to the actual work of being a cadet…and people stop caring about who you’re related to and start wanting you to actually, oh, be able to learn how to be a part of a team.”

Conlan did a once over with his vest and equipment, “Every graduating class has one or two that try it.  You spend four years with a group of people…you can’t be trying to show up or show out… professors won’t tolerate it…never mind your fellow cadets.  By the time you’re a senior, you’ve had most of the stupid worked out of you.”

Harris laughed and then covered her mouth in apology.  The two Starfleet officers laughed as well, so she felt less embarrassed.  “You did say ‘most of the stupid.’  I’m guessing what little is left gets worked out later?”  

Gonzaga and Finlay shared a look before the latter answered, “Nobody’s perfect, Harris.  It all depends on your CO, XO, and department head.  If they think you can be saved from your own stupidity, then there’s a chance you’ll wise up.  Otherwise…they’ll work you out of the system.  The stupidity and pride of the young is a dangerous disease.”  He moved to say more, but a hail from the bridge interrupted him.

“McKee to Team – the ship is slowing to impulse, and we’re going to intercept them sooner than we thought.  Get to the transporter room while we figure out what’s going on.  Harris, you’re with them.  Suit up.”

Harris felt her mouth fall open.  She dutifully, if not nervously, followed the Olympic’s Hazard Team out the door and into the corridor. 

Natalie’s right hand rested on the phaser that was strapped in a holster on her belt.  The two Hazard Team Members were moving ahead of her, phaser rifles at the ready.  Her left hand held a silenced Tricorder that she was using to scan the cargo ship as they walked quietly from the back end toward the front end.  Harris whispered that there was only one biological life sign, and it was certainly Vorta.  Nothing else.  She was wondering what that meant.  Florin moved them through the maze of equipment and came to a halt.  He turned, “One Vorta at the consoles.  Nothing else.”

Gonzaga contemplated that thought for half a second, “That seem odd to you?”  The engineer nodded, and the science officer wondered, “You think they’re starting to lose out there…and going for broke?”

Finlay wasn’t sure, but he also knew one thing, “Victory is Life is a powerful motto for any Dominion force.  I suggest we try and take him.”  Chances were good that the Vorta would hear them coming and trigger his suicide device.  He was about to jump out when Harris pulled at him.  She whispered out her idea.  He checked with his partner.  Conlan was ok with it.  They would be ready to respond if things got out of hand.

“Hey…anybody here?”  Natalie had dirtied up her face, clothing, and even her shoes.  Her hair was a mussed-up disaster, and she stumbled as she walked.  She crashed into a crate or two in her haphazard travel toward the open area at the front of the bridge.  “Anybody here?  Helllloo?” She walked out into the open and found a tall Vorta aiming a disrupter at her, a look of annoyance on his face.

“Where did you come from?”  He didn’t move and kept his distance.

She coughed and groaned, “Well, I was taking a nice old nap in the back room of this hunk of junk until recently…they hadn’t done much of anything with it, so I figured I’d be safe.”  She stretched out her muscles, “Clearly, I was wrong there.  I’m Nat.  Who the hell are you…weird lookin’ man?”

The Vorta looked offended, his weapon still raised, “I am Joasa, a divine creation of the Founders.”

She almost smiled at his practiced speech.  Almost.  She had a part to play in this, and damn it; she was going to play it well.  “The hell is a Founder?  If you’re a ‘divine creation,’ I must be god herself, you know?”

“Shut up.  I am on a mission from my Founders, and I cannot be interrupted.  So, you must die.”  He moved his finger to the trigger, and she screamed.  He stopped, frowning.

She did her best, “Look, I don’t want to die…maybe I could help you or something?  Who are we doing something to?  Did you say some kinda mission?”

Joasa’s frown didn’t lessen, nor did the distance of his finger to the trigger.  “I am going to destroy the colony ahead with this ship’s weapon.”  He shifted his feet nervously, “My first attempt did not…bring the Victory I was hoping for…it was…less than Life.”  He looked behind her, “You sure you’re alone?”

Natalie did her best with a sad face.  It wasn’t hard, “I’m always alone…Joasa.  Always pushed out of my city – I’ve been on the run for a while.  Nobody wants to hang out with…well, a murderer.”  She felt that thrill returning.

The Vorta’s frown lessened, and he cocked his head, “You…killed someone?”

“That they know of.”  She said it with a devious grin, and he seemed placated by her story.  “You gonna kill some people too?”  As she said it, Harris tried to make it sound more conversational than maniacal.  His acceptance of her story was her reward.

“I am going to kill lots of people, Nat.  Would you like to help?”  She nodded and followed him.  He turned his back as she stepped ahead of him when he directed her with the disrupter.

Then the Hazard Team struck.  Joasa yelped as the heavy stun blasts hit him in the back, and he fell forward, unconscious.  Finlay moved to secure him with restraints and looked up at Natalie, “That was a performance, Harris.”

She stepped back as the two Hazard Team officers secured the Vorta and went to work on taking control of the ship.  She’d just stood toe to toe with a Dominion Vorta.  Had she discovered something about herself at that moment?  What did it mean for her?”

Gonzaga reported, “It’s a pretty simple ship – not much to her.  The device is plugged straight into the systems – not much finesse.  They could use some LCARS lessons.”  He tapped at the console, “Looks like was going to target Kija Colony with a bigger hit.  We got lucky at Jolla – he was figuring out how to use it.  We need to get this thing back there and figure out how to make this thing less able to cause planet-wide chaos and more able to help people.”

Finlay returned from a corner of the ship, “McKee will escort us back to the Olympic.  Harris – plot us a course and get us on our way.”  He turned to the Vorta, “We’re going to keep a close eye on this bastard.” 

“We can make our way back to Farpoint for a resupply run – with Mom’s help, we’ve got the daring transport captains running the ships.”  Natalie stood at the back of the bridge reviewing the state of the Deneb sector, “Janoor III has risen to the top of the list recently.”

Reid pursed her lips, “They have.  The three ships that Task Group 514 assigned there have been…less than helpful.  The civilian government contacted one of the transport captains they have a relationship with.”  She tapped at the console, “I don’t know how receptive Captain Fountain will be to us, but he’s the squadron commander.”

McKee turned in the center chair, “He wouldn’t shoot at us…would he?”  She couldn’t believe she was asking such a question, but the Dominion did strange things to the universe on a good day.

Natalie wasn’t sure, “Captain Crawford said he was downright awful.  Made some threats.  And that was to a Starfleet Captain!  Who knows what he’d do to a civilian ship.”  She nervously tapped at the helm station of the SS Ambrose, “We’ve got a job to do…and I don’t think we should let the risk get in the way.  Smaller ships than us are putting themselves on the line out here.”

McKee took a long breath and decided, “Get us to Farpoint, and we’ll get Janoor what they need.”

“The Tallahassee didn’t make it to Galadkail Minor…they came under heavy fire in transit, and they’re limping their way to Janoor III.”  Reid shook her head.  The casualty report, together with the damage report, was awful.  “They lost five crew, which leaves them with ten.  Four of them are injured and need a sickbay.”  She pointedly looked at McKee, “I think we’re going to have to take them on.”

Natalie looked at the same report and whistled in shock, “She’s not worth bringing back to Earth.  They nearly tore her apart trying to get here.”  She felt for the new captain.  He’d just taken over…and would lose his first command.

“Let them know we’ll be waiting for them.  Meanwhile…”  McKee stared at the screen, less than thrilled with their reception upon arrival at Janoor III.  It had been radio silent, and the ships had stared at them, hanging in space.  “Let’s see how much fun Captain Fountain is.”

The screen flickered for a second, and an uptight face stared out from a tense bridge, “This is Captain David Fountain of the Federation Starship Marianas Trench in command of the Marianas Squadron, Task Force 514.  This is a Starfleet operation.”

McKee shifted in the command chair.  He hadn’t asked a question.  She wondered if he expected her to apologize like a good little civilian and canter off back where she’d come.  She was very much resolved not to do any of those things as she started her opening introduction, “I’m Captain Elizabeth McKee of the SS Ambrose.  We’re here on a resupply mission at the order of Fourth Fleet Operat….”

Fountain’s eyes narrowed even further, “Fourth Fleet has no authority in this sector.  The Mackenzie is limping to 72, and I sent the Olympic to her next errand..”  McKee noticed a few officers behind him looking uncomfortable.

She tried once more, “I’m not here to deliberate the legitimacy of the whos who in Starfleet Command.  I don’t even know who’s in charge at Fourth Fleet.  I just know somebody in the chain of command said ‘yes’ to us.”  She threw up her hands, “I’m here to help if you take a second to believe us.  We had a request from Janoor III’s provisional government for assistance.  They made a supply requisition through Harris Transport which has an office at Farpoint Station.  We’ve also got a ship inbound that we’ll salvage and render aid to…unless you want to take that responsibility on, sir.”  She hadn’t looked away from him; her stare had been constant.  He tapped at the arms of his chair, checking her story with the computer records for Starfleet and Civilian operations.  McKee finished with, “Unless you’d like to render aid to the SS Tallahassee and get the angry calls from Janoor III about shit hitting the fan.  I’m fine either way.”  Fountain’s face reddened just enough for her to know she’d probably pushed a button or two.  She didn’t flinch but was ready to order Harris to get them out of there.

“You’ve got a mouth on you, Captain McKee.”  She wasn’t a fan of the look on his face. “You’ve got a history as well.”  She nearly broke.  She resorted to swearing in her head using every known language.

“Captain Fountain, I’m not sure talking about my service jacket or my personal life on an open channel and in front of your crew will get us anywhere.”  She glanced at her chrono, “The Tallahassee is thirty minutes away.  You want to take the credit for the supplies? We’ll beam ‘em over to you…and you can look like a hero.  I don’t give a crap.  I just want to get my other crew off their broken ship and move on to the next assignment.”

The captain on the screen took a moment to think and turned to speak to a crew member.  Harris muted the channel and turned to face McKee, “That man has a very punchable voice.”

McKee shrugged, “Punch, kick, throttle, headbutt…take your pick.  Prophets help him if he pees in the wrong person’s replicator chips.” She motioned to Harris, and the channel unmuted, “Can we get out of your way and move on with our lives, Captain?”  She wasn’t sure where her sass was coming from, but she was past caring.  If the last twenty-two days had taught her anything, is that she was done taking shit from anyone who wanted to take a dump on her.  The goddamned Dominion was running wild in the Deneb Sector.  And this jackass had the temerity to dial his hubris levels to eleven?

Fountain maintained some semblance of composure but wasn’t very good at hiding how he felt.  “We’ll take the supplies and deliver them to the people of Janoor III after an extensive inspection.”

It was Reid’s turn to stand up from her station in the back, “Pardon me, Captain…but that’ll take a day or more with the amount we’re carrying.”  She was finding her cup of indigent rage filling.

He shrugged and waved off her protests, “Such is the way of Task Group 514 Pol….”

McKee had moved to the helm console and stabbed her finger on the channel, hanging up on the captain.  Her mind moved quickly, “Get Janoor on the line and ask them what warehouses are available…get a lock and transport the supplies immediately.  Ignore Fountain for now if he calls.”  She returned to her chair while Harris moved quickly.  Ten minutes passed before Harris gave a thumbs up and confirmed that Fountain had been hailing them every thirty seconds.  “At least he didn’t shoot at us.  Open the channel.”

Fountain was furious, “How dare you disobey a direct order from a Starfleet Officer!  You are in direct violation of every….”

Elizabeth McKee sighed and leaned back in her chair, “Captain Fountain, this is exhausting.  I don’t know who you’re mad at, but it ain’t me.  I’m going to meet up with our critically damaged sister ship and do some life-saving over there.  If that means you file a report, send a message, or start an investigation into our actions…you do what feels right, sir.  We’re just good folk trying to save some other good folk.”  She paused and smiled wide, “Sounds downright Federation-y to me, Captain Fountain.” He remained silent and turned to shout at his communications officer, and the channel closed.

Natalie chuckled, “I’m guessing you want me to set an intercept course for the Tallahassee?”

Mckee sourly replied, “Get me the hell away from Captain Fountain before he or I get any ideas on revenge.”  She sat back in the chair and let out a long breath.  The SS Ambrose jumped into warp and was on her way. 

“How badly could it have gone?”  Crawford stood on the deck of the Jolla Colony ship as the science team continued to examine the vessel from stem to stern.  The science chief had a PADD in her hand.

“We’ve finished the latest device scans and ran some simulations….”

Her commanding officer raised a hand and forcefully asked her, “How bad?”

Her mouth dropped open for a moment in shock.  He hadn’t used that tone with her before.  Sadie answered quickly, “At the setting the Vorta was working on…it could have easily cracked the planet,” she handed over the PADD.  It had startled her as it was now shocking Captain Crawford.

“You mean,” he scrolled through the report and shook his head in horror, “…you mean what you say.  The force of the damage to the fault lines would have accelerated by orders of magnitude as the device continued to run, increasing its effect through each fault line like a volume control…but also pushing the power through to the rest of the planet’s fault lines…shaking the planet apart.”  He let the PADD drop to his side as Fowler picked up where he had left off.

“It would have taken several hours for the device to have its full intended impact – the earthquakes would have been devastating – the simulations redlined the Richter Scale.  The ground wouldn’t have stopped shaking…,” she swallowed what she had imagined and pushed on, “….and anyone who had survived would witness the ground opening up before them and the planet itself cracking into pieces.  It would have been an extinction event for this system…the massive sections of the planet would have drifted, upsetting the orbit of the nearby suns, moons, and other planets.  Within two days, there would be nothing left alive.  And it would have spread beyond this sector.”

Peter let out the breath he had been holding, “Goddamn Dominion.  We’re sure he didn’t transmit the system diagram to anyone?”  He had fought this battle before. He had seen the Vorta’s resourcefulness.  It had taken friends from him.

Fowler wrestled with the tears at the edge of her eyes and found her control. “We’ve examined every single system, sir.  He was alone in his mission.  Catari thinks he’s a runt of the Vorta litter – they gave him an impossible mission because he hadn’t met their standard or something.”

Crawford grumbled, “An impossible mission he nearly completed.  How many lives were in the balance?”  He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but a victory with no loss of life was something he desperately needed.

Fowler sniffled, a feeling of joy rumbling in her heart, “In the inner system, 2.3 million, sir.  In the outer rim, just under 700,000.”  She put her hand over her mouth as she cried with happiness, realizing that meant, “We saved three million people.”

Peter walked to her side, placing his hand on her shoulder, “You and the team did something incredible, Lieutenant Fowler.  We were able to put some points back on the board.”  She wiped away the tears with her uniform arms.  “I’m going to send Director Hoyt up here to work with you to ensure this thing can’t harm anyone.  Let’s do some good.”

“Your efforts will be an official part of my reports and logs.  You did a damn fine job.  Our Hazard Team wanted to you on the spot, Ms. Harris.”  Harris, McKee, and Reid were back on the small bridge of the SS Ambrose.  Crawford spoke to them from the bridge of the Olympic, a look of pride set on his face.  “We’ve received word of an impending attack on Farpoint Station from Dominion, and Breen forces a kind of last stand.  We’re being held back and away from the station to assist in search, rescue, and repair once the battle ends.”

There was a silence in the air as he sat back in his chair.  Natalie asked the question that needed asking, “Can we win, Captain Crawford?”  Reid and McKee wondered what the answer was going to be.

Pete stared at the ground, searching for an answer that would make sense…or sound the right tone.  It was a hard place to be in the center chair – everything you said mattered.  How you said it, when you said it…and how much or how little you said…it all mattered.  He looked up, “There’s an old book by an old guy about an old land with a bunch of old creatures…there’s a monologue from one of the characters…it’s been on my mind.”  He closed his eyes and recited it from memory, “It’s like in the great stories Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were, and sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy. How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad happened. But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something. Even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. Because they were holding on to something.”*  He opened his eyes, the words bringing his bridge to a quiet halt as the officers listened.

Reid felt the tears start to form as she recognized the passage he was reading from memory.  Ambrose had shared his favorite moment from the Lord of the Rings with her on the Erigone just a year ago. She spoke through tears, “Frodo asks Sam what we’re holding onto…and Sam replies, ‘That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for.’”  She smiled through the melancholy of the moment, “Ambrose and I shared a love of Tolkien, Captain Crawford.”

Pete felt his throat waver with his feelings.  He let the moment’s emotion breathe in the silence before he spoke softly, “The stories of old can have such a deep meaning across time and space.”  His memories of friends past and gone flitted in his memory.  He returned to the present, “I am thankful we met each other, Ms. Harris, Ms. McKee, and Doctor Reid.  Without you…well, things would be very different.  Thank you for helping us make a difference… I hope we will meet again soon.”

McKee replied from the center chair, “Thank you, Captain Crawford. Until next time.”  The screen blinked off.  They watched as the medical ship dashed off to warp.  She turned to the gathered, “We’ve got the crew from the Tallahassee…do we think we can lend a hand at Farpoint?”

Reid blinked away her tears, “We’d have to fly fast and hard.”

Natalie said, “The captain from the Tal – his pilot ratings are through the roof.  You put him on the helm, I’ll handle engineering…they had a science lady…and Jord can hold down sickbay with their medical guy.”

McKee noted dryly, “Such technical terms, Nat.”  Harris shrugged, her smile wide.  “Then let’s get moving.”

****

Passage taken from Tolkien, J. R. R. The Lord of the Rings. HarperCollins, 1991.