“Priority one communique from Fourth Fleet Command. Massive enemy fleet converging on Farpoint. Requesting assistance of all available vessels. Shall we adjust course?”

“Negative, maintain present course for Earth,” Admiral Reyes ordered firmly. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to help. If Farpoint fell, the victories they had paid for in blood would mean nothing. The Fourth Fleet would fall, the Deneb Sector would fall, and the fate of the Federation would hang in the balance. Her thoughts drifted to her colleagues and friends, to all the brave officers who would rise to the call. She hoped with all her heart they would achieve victory, but she would not be there with them.

“Excuse me, ma’am? It says all ships within range,” Lieutenant Commander Eidran asked, partly shocked and partly appalled that they weren’t turning for Farpoint. Just hours earlier, Admiral Reyes had ordered them into the Ciatar Nebula against all odds to help a single ship, but now, when the entire Fourth Fleet needed them most, she was backing down? He didn’t understand. “We can be there in time. If these numbers are correct, they’re going to need every available ship to stand a chance.”

“And if they fail, then what?” Reyes countered aggressively. She wanted more than anyone to engage the Dominion, and to keep engaging the Dominion, until they were no more, or until she was no more, but she also knew the importance of what they needed to do. “Have you thought about what happens if the Fourth Fleet falls?”

“But we can help them…”

Reyes didn’t bother pointing out that the USS Serenity had no weapons, limited shields, and reduced maneuverability courtesy of the damage it had sustained coming to the aid of the USS Mariner. Problems like that wouldn’t stop her from using the ship as a battering ram. She had no problem going out in a blaze of glory, but what stopped her from her natural impulse was higher purpose.  “Commander, think about it for a moment,” she replied, looking at the young first officer. “If the Fourth Fleet falls, the Federation will fall shortly thereafter.”

“That seems like all the more reason for us to turn for Farpoint,” Eidran insisted. This just didn’t make any sense. “Respectfully Admiral, what the hell is going on? Why the urgency to head for Earth?” His tone was sharp and desperate, and the bridge grew eerily quiet. 

Admiral Reyes looked around. Every single bridge officer was looking at her. They wanted a response, because just like their first officer, they too didn’t understand. She took a breath and then spit it out. “Because if the Deneb Sector falls,” she offered grimly. “Our only hope is to kick some sense into those idle idiots sitting in San Francisco.” 

Everyone just kept staring. Did she just refer to their leadership as idle idiots? 

As their Commanding Officer, Admiral Reyes knew she could just order it, but she needed them to believe it. “Look, you may not like it, here is our reality… Weapons inoperable, shields at minimal, thrusters with limited maneuverability, we are in no shape to fight the Dominion,” she explained. “But we can still fight for our brothers and sisters by making sure their sacrifices are not in vain. We carry with us the voices of Deneb, voices that can inspire the Federation to act, because if the Fourth Fleet falls and they do not act, the Federation will fall.”

Her words were biting, but not as biting as the meaning they conveyed. The bridge was still silent, but now it was shock rather than doubt, the gravity of their situation now in full display.

“You have your orders.”

There were no more objections. Slowly, the bridge crew began to get back to work, albeit shaken by the Admiral’s words. Satisfied they would follow her orders and stick to the plan, Reyes crossed the bridge briskly, stepping into her Ready Room where Commander Lewis and Dr. Hall awaited.

“Congratulations Admiral,” Dr. Hall laughed from her seat on the couch as the door to the Ready Room slid shut. “You’ve successfully turned sailors into soldiers, and now they’re struggling with the idea that, at this critical moment, we’re turning tail.”

“But it is the correct strategic decision,” Reyes insisted as she sat down in a chair opposite Dr. Hall and Commander Lewis. “We’re not turning tail.”

“We three know that,” Dr. Hall agreed. “But those officers out there, they don’t understand. Sure, they’ve watched the FNN and wondered why there’s no coverage of the war, and sure, they’ve almost certainly noticed the absence of non Fourth Fleet ships in our tactical updates, but they’ve been brainwashed into believing the admirals of Starfleet Command know best.”

Commander Lewis snorted at that idea. Those idiots in their ivory tower had no idea what went on out here on the frontier. Most days, their greatest struggle was figuring out how they could fit in a full eighteen holes at Pebble Beach.

“It’s good for order and discipline,” Dr. Hall reminded the Commander. She didn’t disagree with it, even if she too had little faith in their leadership, the same leadership that constantly tried to tie her hands from what needed to be done. “It works against us here though. Most of the crew cannot imagine what we know to be true. What’s the plan when we get to Earth, Admiral?”

“We will start by visiting Moustiers-Sainte-Marie,” Reyes explained, drawing curious stares from her colleagues. Neither so much as knew the name of that sleepy little commune in the south of France. Admiral Reyes had not, up until this point, shared with anyone what she’d been cooking up. “Since we left Nasera, Lieutenant Balan has been collecting video testimonials from those who suffered under the Dominion occupation. I reached out to an old friend of mine on Earth, retired Rear Admiral Aria Edir, to find a way to get those stories directly to the people, to bypass Starfleet Command altogether and air them on the Federation News Network.”

“And how has that gone?” Commander Lewis asked skeptically. To him, the complete lack of acknowledgement regarding what was happening in the Deneb Sector implied active censorship, and he wondered what success a lone retired flag officer could achieve.

“She disappeared four days ago.”

As cynical as Commander Lewis was, even hadn’t expected that response. “Well, that is interesting…” he mused. “Definitely add credence to our suspicions that Starfleet’s silence is not simple ignorance.”

“We’re going to find Aria Edir,” Reyes nodded. “And then we’re going to confront this head on with Starfleet Command.”

“What makes you think they’ll even entertain you?”

“These occasionally come with some benefits,” Reyes smiled as she touched the pips on her collar. “They will see me.”

Commander Lewis and Dr. Hall looked skeptical.

“And if they won’t, then we are going to tear the walls of HQ down until we find them,” Reyes said with a cold anger in her eyes. “Lord knows we have bled enough for those blowhards already.” Millions, if not billions, of colonists had suffered at the hands of the Lost Fleet, and thousands of good officers had laid down their lives in the desperate struggle. It was well past time that Starfleet Command stepped up.

“What if the Fourth Fleet pulls it off at Farpoint?” asked Commander Lewis. He’d reviewed the tactical reports while Admiral Reyes made her appeal to the bridge crew. There was a chance that Ramar, Beckett and Dahlgren would find victory, even against that massive armada of Dominion and Breen ships. The Fourth Fleet had pulled off miracles before.

“Then our crew gets a front row seat to the Frontier Day celebrations,” laughed Reyes before turning serious again. “But we are still going to get to the bottom of this. Something is amok, and we are not leaving Earth until we find out what.”

His foot tapped against the deck. His eyes kept glancing down at his PADD. Standing in the center of the bridge, Commander Lewis had anything but their current heading on his mind. Across the vastness of space, the Fourth Fleet had just engaged the Lost Fleet over Farpoint. Even with the reductions prompted by the Mariner’s success, the enemy forces still greatly outnumbered their own. It did not look good. They might lose the Deneb system, and if that happened, the sector would fall. Everything they had accomplished over the last month would be undone.

Commander Lewis understood why Admiral Reyes had chosen not to turn for Farpoint. This little ship was not in fighting shape after the Ciatar Nebula. Weapons still offline, shields at minimum, and thrusters severely damaged, what could it really offer? Not much besides drawing some fire and ramming a battlecruiser. But it didn’t change the fact he wanted to be there instead of watching the stars whizz by as they raced for Earth.

A ping on his PADD drew him from his thoughts.

Commander Lewis read the update quickly. 

“Hot damn! That’s what I’m talking about!” he exclaimed, and every officer within earshot looked over. Their thoughts, just like his, were with their colleagues on the line.

“Good news?” asked Lieutenant Morgan hopefully.

“Looks like it,” Commander Lewis said, crossing from the command island to his colleague. “Check this out.”

Morgan accepted the PADD and read the latest flash. And then he read it again, almost unable to believe his eyes. “Wow, with this, they might actually win it!” 

“Looks like the Atlantis came through,” Commander Lewis smiled. “I had five to one odds that Captain Theodoras would come back empty handed, but she got them. She got all of them. The Klingons, the Romulans, and even the Tholians. Explain to me how the Tholians care more about Deneb than our own admirals in San Francisco?” No one had an answer for him.

A few hours later, the far away battle was over.

Fleet Admiral Allison Reyes gathered the senior staff in the briefing room, and Commander Lewis ran them through the preliminary after action report. A lot was still hazy, but the big picture was clear. 

“The Fourth Fleet has prevailed, Farpoint is secure, and what is left of the Lost Fleet is in retreat back to the Gamma Quadrant,” Commander Lewis summarized after taking everyone through the details he had received. “The Deneb Sector will soon be fully back in our possession.”

“This is a moment to celebrate!” Lieutenant Commander Eidran exclaimed, his face awash with relief. “It is finally over.” The young man had grown up in the peace of the nineties, and he had never experienced anything like the chaos and tragedy of this gruesome conflict.

“Don’t toast just yet,” Admiral Reyes warned from the head of the table. “We don’t have casualty numbers just yet, but even preliminaries show that victory certainly did not come cheap.” She felt for every commander in that battle, the hard choices they had to make, and the reality they would now have to live with. The victory over Farpoint, just like Nasera, Arriana, Izar and so many others, had been paid for with the blood of brave officers who gave their lives for greater purpose.

“I know that all too well,” Eidran snapped, slightly more aggressively than he’d meant. He’d lost his mentor to the enemy, and then, with only days to grieve, he’d been thrust right back into the meat grinder. “But at least there won’t be any more. At least this is the end.”

“For now,” cautioned Commander Lewis. He had doubts it was truly the end. “There are still many unanswered questions. Was it truly an accident that the Lost Fleet reappeared at this particular moment? Why was their offensive so organized and effective when their knowledge of our quadrant was thirty years out of date? How come they immediately went to war without seeking out the counsel of their gods first? And are the Founders playing at a long game here?”

Eidran sighed. The Commander wasn’t wrong, but he just wanted to enjoy the good news. He was absolutely and completely exhausted, and he just didn’t have it in him to entertain the notion that this wasn’t the end. He hoped that Commander Lewis was just seeing ghosts, like he often did. “So what’s the plan for us now?”

“We stay the course for Earth,” Reyes answered firmly.

“But we don’t need to convince them to send ships anymore,” Eidran pointed out.

“No, but someone needs to explain why the hell the Fourth Fleet stood alone in the night,” Reyes explained. “It should never have come to this.” If Command had risen to its duty and brought the full might of Starfleet down on the Deneb Sector, they wouldn’t have been relying on hail marys, miracles and unlikely allies to achieve victory.

Eidran could sense the anger in Reyes’ heart as much as he could see it in her eyes. He could feel the conviction in her words, and it discomforted him. Why couldn’t she just get those answers via a phone call? Why were they taking a Duderstadt class light cruiser halfway across the quadrant so the admiral could have a conversation?

“Besides,” Admiral Reyes said, softening her tone. “After everything the crew has been through, I’m sure they’d all enjoy some R&R on Earth. We’ll be arriving just before Frontier Day, and I’m sure we can stick around for the festivities.”

Eidran nodded. That actually sounded fairly appealing after the month they’d just endured. He’d heard about the preparations that were underway for that momentous day, and it sounded like it was going to be the celebration of the century. It would be cool to be there in person.

For her sake, Admiral Reyes had no intention of celebrating. Worlds had been broken, faith had been crushed, and too many lives had been lost. Those admirals in San Francisco, they were at least partly responsible through their inaction, whether inadvertent or intentional. The only thing she wanted was answers.

“Did you see this report? Looks like the whole Dominion mess is over.”

“Yes, I’ve heard. Which begs the question, where’s Serenity and the Commander’s band of goons?” Commander Drake had not a lick of love for Lewis and his morally ambiguous squad. The JAG officer had no doubt they were guilty, and the sooner they were locked up, the better.

“Logic would dictate they’re trying to sneak in a couple more war crimes before they return, wouldn’t it, Terok?” Chief Petty Officer Geoff Morrey laughed as he looked over at their Vulcan medical examiner.

“Yes, logic would dictate that, given an opportunity that lent itself to such actions, Commander Lewis would willingly commit war crimes again,” Lieutenant Commander Terok agreed.

“Seriously though, where the hell are they?” Drake asked frustratedly. “Has anyone heard a damn thing about what they’ve even been up to since they left Nasera ten days ago?” Both of his colleagues shrugged. “This investigation is pretty much dead in the water until we can put them on the stand.” 

The resonance of the phaser that killed the Vorta did not match any weapons in their armory, and the toxins found in the bloodstream of the Vorta did not match any psychiatric substances requisitioned by the team either. They’d combed the crime scene a dozen time, but they did not have anything conclusively linking the covert team to the torture and murder of the Vorta. Commander Drake was absolutely positive they did it though. They’d just have to crack an operator to prove it, and that required them to get back from wherever they were.

“It may be the case that we get nowhere even when they return,” Terok warned. 

“I disagree,” Drake replied. “Give me and Morrey a few more cracks at the kids on the team, and I’m sure we’ll get somewhere.” Commander Lewis and Dr. Hall would never crack. He knew their type. They’d go to prison before they talked. The other three though, they almost certainly would, and then off to prison he’d send them all.

“I mean, you brought Miss Shafir to tears last time you took a pass at her,” laughed Morrey, amused by what had happened between Drake and Shafir down in the starboard stardrive computer core. “I say take a few more cracks at her, and either you’ll get Commander Lewis on assault for beating you upside the head again, or you’ll get it out of her.”

“Lieutenant Morgan or Ensign Rel would be more likely to talk,” Terok suggested. “The Chief has been in intelligence her whole career. Her dossier is full of redactions.” That typically indicated someone who had already crossed over the line a few too many times.

“Now, now, my Vulcan friend,” Commander Drake laughed sadistically. “Your point is logical, but why let her miss out on all the fun? We’ll have plenty of time to take a pass at all three once we’re back. We can start by charging Chief Shafir and Ensign Rel with wrongful conduct resulting in the death of a fellow officer.”

“A tribunal will acquit,” warned Terok. He’d read the after action report. Although they had killed Lieutenant Commander Jordan, it had been the correct choice. There was no tactically viable way for two operators to free Jordan from the control center, and if they had not blown it when they did, the Jem’Hadar would have retaken control of the planetary defense system and used it to destroy the entire Starfleet counteroffensive. It was a textbook case of the needs of the needs of the many outweighing the needs of the few.

“So?” Commander Drake laughed. In his youth when he had a totally perfect conviction rate, he would have avoided it just so he could maintain his record. Through the years though, he’d learned that sometimes you charged someone as a tool for a larger plan. “It’ll weaken them up, having to relive it over and over. That guilt and grief Chief Shafir showed when I questioned her about Jordan’s death, she’s a woman ready to break. And Ensign Rel, that girl is what, twenty five, a junior flight controller with a spotless record? It’ll be a race to see who takes a plea deal first.”

“What about Lieutenant Morgan?” asked Morrey.

“We’ll just work him over like we usually do,” Drake shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll get somewhere. I mean we’re talking about a completely uninteresting operations officer who found himself down there with two career criminals? I can’t imagine he wanted to be there. He’ll talk just to clear his conscience.”

“Are you worried about what type of deal you’d have to cut for their cooperation?”

“Not one bit. Commander Lewis and Dr. Hall are the prize,” Drake explained. Ideally, he’d put them all away for their crimes, but pragmatically, he knew that without Lewis and Hall, the others would not be inspired to cross the line again. That was what this was really about, stopping a pattern of behavior that desecrated the uniform. “Lewis got out of my grasp once before, and that will not happen again,” Drake insisted as he thought back to the eighties when he had tried to lock up the butcher of Algorab for his crimes. Sure, he’d at least managed to force Lewis out of Starfleet for a decade, but now here he was once again desecrating the uniform. “And doctor Lisa Hall,” he continued with a tone of absolute distaste. “Don’t even get me started with her. She should have been thrown in prison for her dissertation alone. It was a roadmap for torture masquerading as a psychiatry study.”

“Well, we just need them to get back already, and then the fun can really begin,” Chief Morrey said as he cracked his knuckles. Where Drake got into this line of work for his love of law, Morrey got his kicks out of solving puzzles and cracking criminals.

“You know, screw this,” Drake replied as he rose from his chair. “I’m going to pay Devreux a visit and get us some answers.”

Not even five minutes later, Commander Drake stepped briskly into the Captain’s Ready Room.

“Good morning Commander Drake,” Captain Gérard Devreux said as he looked up from his PADD. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” In all their time serving together aboard the Polaris, Drake had never once before visited him in his Ready Room, leaving the Captain curious what this was about.

“I understand there has been a cessation of hostilities with the Dominion, and the Fourth Fleet is standing down?” 

“Indeed that appears to be the current state of things,” Captain Devreux smiled broadly. The last month had been the hardest month of his entire career. He could hardly stomach the pile of body bags that had accumulated, and he was relieved that this wretched conflict was finally over. “It is my hope that once we finish our humanitarian mission rebuilding Nasera that once more we will take to the stars and get back to exploring the frontier.” His eyes twinkled at the thought.

Commander Drake didn’t care about the stars or whatever mysteries Devreux was fantasizing about. His focus was on a mystery closer to home. “Do you have any idea when the USS Serenity will be back?” the JAG officer asked.

“Somehow I don’t think you’re asking because you’ve suddenly taken an interest in fleet logistical operations?” Captain Devreux furled his brow. “Is this about that little investigation I hear you’re running?” Word had reached him about what had happened between Lewis and Drake. It was the talk of the ship, a member of the senior staff assaulting another member of the senior staff.

Commander Drake nodded.

“Commander, I respect what you do. I really do,” Captain Devreux offered. “But have you ever thought maybe you should just let bygones be bygones in this case? We’ve been through so much.” Exhaustion was evident in his voice. The last few weeks had been an absolute nightmare, pretty much the opposite of everything he joined Starfleet to enjoy.

“Absolutely not. We have laws for a reason,” Commander Drake replied flatly. How could Starfleet say it was defending the ideals of the Federation if its officers could not follow its most basic principles? “These laws are what make our Federation great. We cannot just look the other way when it is convenient.”

“That team is the only reason that Nasera is free, and the only reason we are alive.”

“Wrong, and wrong,” Commander Drake countered aggressively. “Captain, what did you just tell me a few minutes ago? The Dominion has ceased all hostilities. The conflict is over. The citizens of Nasera would be free today regardless of our success or failure.” He had heard the argument so many times that the ends justified the means, but it didn’t hold up when the same ends would have been achieved with or without those means. “And, as for us being alive, we would also still be alive if Reyes had not made reckless command decisions that depended on those goons in order for us to survive.”

“Who the hell do you think you are to come up here and Monday morning quarterback the decisions of Fleet Admiral Allison Reyes?” Captain Devreux responded aggressively, angered that Drake had turned his attention to Reyes. Devreux had been on the bridge during the battle, and he knew exactly the impossible challenges Reyes had faced in calling the shots as she did. “You hid in your office while we fought for the freedom of Nasera.”

“Ummm, who am I? I am a duly appointed officer of the Starfleet Judge Advocate General.” Commander Drake stated proudly. “And you’d best remember it.” 

This conversation was going nowhere. Commander Drake spun on his heels and headed for the door. It was time to go further up the chain of command. Their Task Force Commanding Officer was also here over Nasera, and maybe Commodore Jori would be more sensible.

But just before leaving, he paused for a moment in the doorway.

“And Captain,” Commander Drake added, turning back momentarily. “Just so you know, the only reason I’m not investigating the command decisions made during the battle – because, believe me, I certainly could with those casualty rates – is because I do respect Allison, and I know the difficult position the squadron was in.” Even he recognized that the fog of war could lead to less than perfect decision making. “But also, Reyes didn’t commit a war crime. Lewis did.”

And with that, the JAG was gone.

“Allegedly,” Captain Devreux muttered under his breath, not that anyone could hear. As he stood there alone, he wondered why the hell he was defending Commander Lewis. He didn’t even like the guy. The old spook gave him the creeps. But Commander Drake was being ridiculous. It was all so frustrating. Captain Devreux just wanted to put this whole sorry saga behind him. Hadn’t they been through enough already? Why couldn’t they all just move on and get back to exploring the brilliant mysteries of the great unknown?

A candle flickered in the light of the passing stars. Butterflies fluttered in her chest. Excitement flitted across her face. A daring dress flowed over her delicate frame. The Serenity continued its charge towards Earth, but tonight, here in Elyssia’s quarters, the table was set for two with a soft jazz melody floating lightly in the air, the troubles of the outside world momentarily forgotten.

Winding his way through sterile corridors, Commander Lewis walked like a man on a mission, but this mission was unlike any he’d ever faced before. It was so much easier to stalk a Dominion-occupied world with the Jem’Hadar hunting him. Why was he doing this? He wasn’t sure. Did he want to do it? Maybe. Was it wrong of him? Almost certainly. But wrong hadn’t kept him from torturing that Vorta, so why should it keep him from enjoying dinner with Elyssia?

The door chimed, and Elyssia looked up from the platter of hors d’oeuvres that she was setting on the table. “Come,” she said with a mix of excitement and nerves, the butterflies still fluttering in her chest.

Commander Lewis stepped through the threshold and froze. Elyssia looked absolutely stunning, and her daring dress, backless and plunging in the front to her bellybutton, how did it even stay on? Suddenly, he felt self conscious in his dark cargo pants and black compression shirt. He had clearly picked the wrong outfit, but he had no idea what one was even supposed to wear to something like this. He didn’t even know what this was. At least he’d trimmed his beard, he thought to himself. 

As the door hissed shut, Lewis  just kept standing there, rigid and uncertain, almost as if at attention. “At ease soldier,” Elyssia chuckled. It was adorable to see the seasoned spook, a man who always seemed so sure of himself, so completely unsure in this moment.

Commander Lewis tried to relax, but it didn’t work. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but the elegant table setting, the romantic candlelight, the mood music, and his date dressed to the nines, it definitely wasn’t what he’d figured. The fact they’d just gone through the crucible, almost dying on Nasera, almost dying behind enemy lines, and almost dying in the Ciatar Nebula, their recent trials just made it that much more jarring.

“Jake, this isn’t something you need to overthink. It’s just a casual dinner between friends,” Elyssia teased, sensing the dissonance in her mind. She approached him and gently took his hands in hers as she looked up at him with her bright blue eyes. “Seriously, relax.” She led him towards the table. “There’s no mission here. Just us.”

“I guess I just don’t know what us actually is,” Lewis admitted as he took a seat.

“And that’s the beauty of it,” Elyssia smiled. “Undefined is sometimes perfect. Not every mystery needs to be solved. Just enjoy it for what it is.” 

Commander Lewis contemplated those words. In his world, everything was defined. He was a Starfleet officer. He held the rank of Commander. He was assigned to the USS Polaris as Chief Intelligence Officer. He reported to Fleet Admiral Reyes, and he had an Intelligence Department and a Hazard Team that reported to him. His missions were defined by orders and executed by plan.

“Wine?” Elyssia asked, piercing his inner monologue as she appeared beside him with an ‘87 Ferenginar cabernet.

“Sure,” Lewis replied distractedly.

As he watched the deep red of the fine vintage splash into his glass, he noted how it moved. The glass constrained the liquid, and eventually it would settle, but its movements until it reached equilibrium were random. Maybe that was like him and Ensign Rel. He just wondered what their equilibrium would be when everything settled. 

Elyssia slid into her seat across the table from him. She looked at him, admiring his features, all the while sweetly smiling. She’d been longing for this moment ever since that first walk they took together through the broken streets of Nasera, listening to him share the thoughts of his heart. Most would say that Commander Lewis was a broken man, but she saw beauty in those pieces.

“You really shouldn’t have done all of this,” Lewis remarked. “It’s just so… so much more than I could have imagined.” And so was she. He still couldn’t understand why a woman like her had taken a liking to a man like him. She had a future ahead of her, and he was but a shadow.

“How can you even say that before you take a bite?” Elyssia asked playfully as she plucked a tomato-topped bruschetta off the appetizer plate. But she didn’t bring it to her mouth. Instead, she leaned across the table, guiding it towards his.

Wait, was this for him? And that plunge dress, oh what was it doing dangling like that, falling away from her skin, revealing what lay beneath? Lewis didn’t know where to cast his eyes or what to do with his mouth. As he cast his gaze away, respectfully trying not to stare, she slipped the tasty bite into his mouth. The flavors of chestnut honey and creamy ricotta overwhelmed his senses. 

“Wow,” Lewis said as he let his eyes settle back upon her. She had to know what she was doing so he let himself savor the moment. Elyssia didn’t flinch or try to cover up. His reaction flattered her.

“I convinced chef to let me use the galley this afternoon,” she explained as she fed him the rest of the bruschetta. Then she sat back in her chair, the daring dress falling back into place, snapping Lewis from his moment. “You see, before the Lost Fleet arrived, Serenity stocked up on these goodies because it was supposed to play host to a diplomatic delegation. Of course, once she turned for battle, that all went out the window, and all this was just sitting there going to waste. We get to be the lucky benefactors. Beats the replicated stuff every time.”

“Color me impressed,” Lewis remarked as he popped a canapé into his mouth. “I’ll admit that in all my years, I never learned to cook. I pretty much just eat whatever the replicator recommends based on my fitness metrics… or MREs and supplements if we’re out in the field.”

“Then there’s a whole world out there still waiting for you! Wait til we get to Earth. If we have time, I’ll take you to my favorite little spot in Paris… or really, I should say Jaxon’s favorite spot in Paris,” Elyssia offered, referencing one of Rel’s former hosts. “He was quite a foodie, and I guess I inherited it from him.”

“You see, that’s where you’ve got me beat,” Lewis replied, remembering she had far more than just the experiences of her short twenty five years. “You’ve got how many generations of experience on me?”

“Let’s see, you’re what… Fifty three? Yeah, I’ve got a couple centuries on you.”

The Trill experience always fascinated Lewis. Imagine the tactical advantage you could get from all the training your prior hosts had received, he thought to himself. But on the flipside, did your future host inherit all your darkest memories? He wouldn’t wish his nightmares on anyone. “If you don’t mind,” Lewis asked hesitantly, not wanting to pry but also genuinely curious. “What’s it like living with all those past lives?”

“It’s like a beautiful symphony,” Elyssia answered enigmatically. “Sharing my body and soul with the beautiful lives and personalities of so many to come before me, and someday being a part of those who will come after me, it is something special.” She spoke with a mystical reverence. “But I’ll be honest, it didn’t come easy. I wasn’t exactly planning on it when it happened.”

Commander Lewis wanted to inquire, but also he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. She went on explaining anyway.

“You see, I was fresh out of the Academy on my first assignment aboard the USS Allegiance when we stumbled upon a Trill Fenris Ranger on the verge of death. Before that moment, I had honestly never considered being joined. I was just going to be a Starfleet officer. But I was the only Trill aboard that small patrol ship, and an emergency joining was necessary to save Rel. That’s how my incredible journey began. It took some time to adjust. Took a year off to commune with all I had inherited, since I really wasn’t prepared for it, and now here I am.”

“How come you never considered being joined before? Isn’t that what so many Trill aspire for?”

“For exactly that reason,” Elyssia laughed. “I like to move to the beat of my own drum. You see, my people so ferociously compete for the opportunity to be joined, I just wanted to go off and be my own person. But fate had other ideas for me.” As Elyssia finished her story, she sipped her wine and looked across at her date. “What about you Jake?”

“What about me?”

“What made you into you?”

“Ummm, I’m not sure,” Lewis replied uncertainly. He wasn’t accustomed to talking about his past. “Nothing that comes close to your story, but how about this… I was very against all this cloak and dagger stuff as a young officer. In fact, I had real problems with Starfleet Intelligence and their practices. Had some pretty hostile run ins with them.”

“That surprises me given who you are today.” She’d seen him on Nasera. He wasn’t like the rest of them. They were on a mission. This was his life. He lived it, breathed it, never hesitating even when the rest of them did. It was one of the things about him that impressed her.

“Believe it or not, I was once an optimistic young man who saw Starfleet as the epitome of all that was right in the universe,” Lewis explained. “Starfleet saved me from my childhood, and I took to the stars wanting to do the same for others. But from my first internship to unanswered questions to confiscated works, time and time again, what I thought was right got blocked by spooks in the darkest corners of Starfleet Intelligence… up until the day they came to recruit me. They peeled the curtains back, connected the pieces, and helped me see the bigger picture. I realized then that the galaxy is a messy place, and sometimes lines must be crossed in order to protect all that our people take for granted.”

“Does it ever bother you what the others think?” Elyssia asked. After they’d returned, she’d been surprised by the whispers and rumors floating around the Polaris. They had sacrificed so much, and yet the speculation from her colleagues was painful to hear. Some questioned whether the team had been reckless with the lives of its officers, or what they’d done to cause the Jem’Hadar to give themselves up, and others concocted crazy unfounded rumors.

“Not really,” Lewis replied. “They don’t understand, and they don’t need to. It is the job of people like me to protect their idyllic reality.” The ignorant masses couldn’t handle the truth.

“What about Commander Drake?” Elyssia had not yet been visited by the Polaris’ JAG officer, but she’d heard from Ayala Shafir what happened down in the stardrive computer core, how Drake had drilled her, and then how Lewis had bodied him. “He seems to bother you.”

“Only in how he hurts the people who matter to me,” Commander Lewis answered. “If he had just come to me about the mission, that would have been one thing.” Lewis had assumed he’d have to deal with Drake after the mission since he knew the shark had a sense for when lines were crossed. And he was prepared for that. They’d left no evidence that could link them to what they did, and he had just planned to put up the usual walls to stop the JAG. “But he made it personal with Ayala.” He had a soft spot for Chief Shafir. He’d found her in her darkest moment, and he never wanted to see her back there again. “It probably wasn’t my best idea to throw him around like that though.”

“No, probably not, but he had it coming.” Elyssia couldn’t believe the guts on that guy to start harassing Ayala, or any of them really. Couldn’t Drake understand how difficult their mission had been? Half of their team came home in body bags, and the choices they’d made down there would live with them forever. It was just so heartless of the JAG.

“Don’t get me wrong though,” Lewis added. “Commander Drake has got a job to do, just like me. Sure, it complicates things to know he’s always lurking, trying to nail me for what I have to do, but if it weren’t for people like him, there’d be many more bad people in this world.” In the moments after Nasera, he’d just wanted the guy gone, but as he thought about it more, he remembered why Drake was there in the first place. “Commander Drake actually worked with me and Allison a couple years ago to stuff a coup attempt within the Fourth Fleet. That’s why Allison keeps him around. He is an inconvenient necessity.”

“If only he understood the same about us,” Elyssia commented. “That we had a job to do too. That we are also inconvenient necessities.” 

A pit developed in Commander Lewis’ stomach at Elyssia’s repeated uses of the word we. She might have performed admirably on Nasera, but she was still so young, so optimistic, so pure, with so much life ahead of her. He didn’t want this life for her, but those feelings confused him. Why was he feeling this way? Who was he to care for someone enough to wish them a better life? Usually, he just invited willing shooters into his merry band of morally ambiguous heathens.

“Drake will never fully understand,” Lewis offered. “But that is okay. Part of what makes him successful at his job is the zealous fervor he has from his impossibly high regard for the Federation’s lofty principles. Knowing people like him exist just means we have to be careful with what we do.” And there it was, he used the we word too.

Over the next hour, the conversation wandered through topics aplenty as the hors d’oeuvres were cleared, the main course was polished off, and dessert was had. When there were only crumbs left, the two found themselves on the couch as the conversation grew more personal.

“I’ll be honest. I don’t get it,” Lewis admitted. “What makes someone like you, a bright young star in Starfleet, interested in a washed out spook like me?”

“Your heart,” Elyssia replied genuinely, and it caught Lewis by surprise. He didn’t even think he had one after all he’d done. “No matter how many walls you’ve constructed, I see why you do what you do. You care so much for us, and for everyone really, that you never consider the cost to yourself. I admire that about you.” He put his career, and frankly his life, on the line for the team and the people of Nasera, and he never hesitated.

“But I come with baggage,” Lewis warned.

“Don’t we all?” Elyssia had the personalities of over a half dozen Trill bouncing around in her consciousness. If that wasn’t baggage, she didn’t know what was.

“Not like me. You have this idealized vision of me, but Elyssia, I’m a cold blooded killer.” Lewis was the guy who’d his sidearm to the Vorta’s head and killed it in retribution without a second thought. And it wasn’t the first time either, nor would it be the last.

“For the right reasons,” she replied without hesitation.

“There’s no promise I’ll always make it home,” he warned. This was what bothered him the most, the idea that if he got close to someone, he would eventually disappoint them when he came home in a body bag. In his line of work, that was a very real possibility, and he was honestly somewhat surprised it hadn’t happened already.

“Is there a promise for any of us?” Elyssia countered. Their last mission had made that clear as day. Brock Jordan, Jason Atwood, Nam Jae-sun, and Kora Tal, four skilled operators, almost half their team, who went to Nasera never to return. And then there were the nine hundred and thirty one other officers of the Polaris and her sister ships who died in the battle. Her thoughts drifted to Jaxon Rel and Asteria Rel, Rel’s prior hosts. It was the same story for both of them, doing the right thing and paying the ultimate price.

“No, I suppose not.”

“So why let that stop us?” Whether it was the emotions borne of their experiences on Nasera, or it was genuine understanding, she was not going to be dissuaded. 

Elyssia slid over on the couch, bringing her body against his as she wrapped her arms around him. Their lips connected, and their hands wandered. Against his better judgment, Lewis let it happen. He didn’t understand where these emotions were coming from, but he gave into them. Passions flowed, clothes came off, and they found their way to her bed once more.

Traffic Control Center Sol never had a quiet day. Normally, the traffic controllers situated deep within Sol Station managed the delicate choreography of a thousand vessels arriving, departing and transiting within the Sol system. Today, the number was almost three times that. It was absolute chaos.

“SS Baton Rouge, adjust heading three three four, and slow to six thousand… SF Med Whisky Alpha, proceed two two four… Workbee Six Nine Four, hold at six four until SF Med passes,” ordered a traffic controller from his station. All around him, dozens of other controllers were doing the same with their areas of responsibility across the complex airspace of the inner Sol system. As he watched the vectors adjust, he looked over at his colleague. “This is madness!”

“It’s only going to get worse,” laughed his colleague. “Shelby wants every ship in the fleet here for her big day.”

“Doesn’t that seem a bit silly?”

“Yeah, you’d think we have better things to do with all these ships.”

“They could have at least let us park them out past Mars until the twelfth. I swear, I’ve lost half my vectors around Sol Station with this logjam of USS Something-or-Others parked right out front.” Over a hundred Starfleet vessels hung idle in close proximity to Sol Station, a longjam that turned the typically straightforward approach vectors for Sol Station into a complicated series of maneuvers to avoid ramming inbound and outbound ships in the bridge of a Galaxy or Inquiry.

“Yeah, I hear that’s at Shelby’s insistence too. Something about wanting them right here at Sol Station for the image as all the dignitaries arrive.”

“Then the least she could have done is deploy that fleet formation tech already,” the traffic controller laughed. “At least then I wouldn’t have to help a dimwit Pakled keep his port and starboard straight…”

The Officer of the Watch, a captain who looked as frazzled and annoyed as his subordinates, interrupted their discussion: “Hey, Lieutenant, I have SRTCC 001 looking for an immediate handoff, your sector.”

“Understood,” the traffic controller nodded as he looked down at his screen for the hand off. He couldn’t help but think the request was odd though. Sector Route Traffic Control Center 001 didn’t typically hand off directly to Sol Station TCC Approach. “Why no Jupiter Center first?”

“Starfleet vessel on active mission protocols, warp 9.99 at fifteen hundred AU.”

“That’s frickin fast,” the traffic controller observed. Typical inbound velocity was warp 5 or lower. Warp 9.99 at that distance meant they’d be on top of Earth in less than two minutes. “Ident?”

“USS Serenity.”

“Alright, I’ll get her on the horn,” the traffic controller confirmed. He swiftly pulled up the daily schedule. No flight plans or orders logged for the Serenity. But why would there be? Civilian captains usually followed protocol, but Starfleet captains loved to blast in like they owned the place. “Good morning Serenity,” he said as the line connected. “TCC Sol Approach. Adjust heading 010, slow to warp 5 at waypoint Jupiter Foxtrot.”

“010, warp 5 at Jupiter Foxtrot,” Lieutenant Selik acknowledged from the helm of the Serenity.

“Serenity, I don’t have a plan on file for you. Clarify destination?”

“Earth high orbit.”

Of course it wasn’t the Archives Annex or Jupiter Station. Of course it was another ship looking for a parking spot right in the midst of this traffic jam. “Serenity, we have a packed pattern,” warned the traffic controller. “Adjust to heading 040, warp 1, and slow to ten thousand at waypoint Mars Sierra. You’re number thirty two in line. Expect two to three hours.”

On board the bridge of the USS Serenity, Admiral Reyes watched the stars streak by as Lieutenant Selik communicated with Sol Station approach. “Ma’am, they’re saying two to three hours,” the flight controller reported.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Admiral Reyes countered with an aggravated tone. They’d spent the last nine days rushing from the Deneb Sector, and she was in no mood to wait a minute longer for answers. She approached the conn and reached over Lieutenant Selik to reopen the line. “Sol Approach, this is Fleet Admiral Allison Reyes, USS Serenity.”

The traffic controller rechecked the fleet manifest. USS Serenity, NCC-96138, Duderstadt class, presently assigned to the Fourth Fleet and operating out of Farpoint Station with no active commanding officer. The Fleet Admiral had probably just commandeered it so she could be in attendance for Frontier Day, he thought to himself. “Good morning admiral,” replied the traffic controller in his nicest tone. He dealt with Commanders and Captains all day long, but it was very rare to have a Fleet Admiral directly addressing him across the line. “How may I be of assistance?”

“I’m told we’ve got a two to three hour delay?”

“Affirmative sir,” the traffic controller acknowledged. “We have a full pattern in the lead up to Frontier Day.”

“We’re not here for Frontier Day,” Fleet Admiral Reyes replied firmly. “We are in the midst of an active investigation. Please provide priority diversion. We need high Earth orbit immediately.”

The traffic controller sighed. Of course they were, and of course she wanted an exception. Leave it to the flag officers to always have some holier-than-thou cause that disrupted the order of his carefully orchestrated pattern. But he also knew an order when he heard one. “Understood sir. Stand by,” he replied as he worked to figure out how to accommodate. “Serenity, skip Mars Sierra, adjust zero two two and slow to ten thousand at six four…”

Admiral Reyes stepped back to the command island to let Lieutenant Selik do his thing. 

A few moments later, the streaking stars slowed, and Earth appeared directly ahead. To port hung the massive superstructure of Sol Station, the largest orbital facility in all of Federation space, and all around, they could see well over a hundred Starfleet cruisers and capital ships. It was a gathering unlike anything Admiral Reyes had seen since the Battle of Cardassia. If only these ships could have been brought to bear in the Deneb Sector, the war with the Lost Fleet might have turned out quite differently.

“Wow, what a scene!” remarked Lieutenant Commander Eidran. “There’ve gotta be well over a hundred ships here already for the big day…” It would be a nice reprieve from the chaos of the crucible they’d just fought through to just kick back and enjoy the two hundred and fifty year celebration of the day that the Enterprise NX-01 embarked on its maiden voyage.

“Since when is a party worth more than border security?” grumbled Commander Lewis. This all looked mighty stupid to him. With so many ships recalled from across Federation space for Frontier Day, it meant their borders lay unprotected. “If anyone wants to invade Federation space, now’s the time.” 

“I mean,” pointed out Admiral Reyes. “Isn’t that exactly what happened?”

“Maybe Shelby just didn’t want to acknowledge the Lost Fleet’s arrival because it would have detracted from this bullshit?” laughed Commander Lewis.

“If only we could be that lucky,” Admiral Reyes replied as she cast her eyes towards the planet beneath them. “At least that would mean we’ve just lost ourselves to stupid.” She doubted it though. From that conversation with Commander Drake in the early days of the conflict to the disappearance of retired Rear Admiral Edir, Admiral Reyes sensed that something more sinister was afoot. But they were finally here over Earth, and now it was time to get some answers.

The midday sun beat overhead. Birds chirped and a light wind whispered through the air. Limestone cliffs loomed above them, and cobblestone streets lay before them. As their eyes adjusted to the light, they saw a faint red stencil that read Hotel Le Belvedere over a sun bleached orange stucco. The terracotta roofs, pastel walls, and vibrant shutters told them this was a place removed from the progress of civilization, an antiquated French commune cut into the hills of Provence, frozen in time half a millenia ago.

Admiral Reyes used her tricorder to orient. Across most of Earth, tricorders and PADDs were the norm, but here, the townsfolk lounged lazily in the early afternoon sun, enjoying fresh patisseries, sipping rich espressos, and reading paperbound books. The trio of Starfleet officers looked completely out of place with their equipment, uniforms and determined gait.

“This way,” Reyes said. Walking up the road, they were greeted by the stunning view of Ravin de Notre-Dam, a narrow canyon cut by waters collected in the limestone range above. A single-arch stone bridge lay ahead, framing a gorgeous waterfall behind it. There was not a mechanical sound in earshot, just the crashing of water and the chirping of the birds.

They came upon a street sign that read Rue de la Bourgade. In the era of precise automated shuttles and point-to-point transporters, it was strange to see such a sign, but here in the commune of Moustiers-Sainte-Marie, people still actually walked from place to place. They turned up the narrow road.

Continuing to walk, they could see the steeple of Église Notre-Dame de l’Assomption across the ravine, rising above the town, three sets of double arches leading to a pointy steeple. Just beyond lay Faïence Bondil, a shop selling handcrafted tin-glazed earthenware shaped in a manner unchanged for hundreds of years.

“What a strange place for a thirty year combat veteran to settle,” Commander Lewis observed. Rear Admiral Aria Edir had cut her teeth as a tactical officer during the Federation-Cardassian War, honed her craft as a battlefield commander during the Dominion War, and ascended into the admiralty as a leader within Starfleet Tactical. She’d participated in almost every borderland skirmish from the late fifties until her retirement at the end of the eighties, and this archaic commune was not where Commander Lewis would have expected such a person to live out the remainder of her days.

“Where do you think you’ll settle when you retire?” Admiral Reyes asked pointedly. Commander Lewis was getting up there in age. He was in his fifties now. At some point, the scarred and weathered spook would have to hang up his boots.

“Six feet under?” Lewis laughed. “I dunno. Never gave it much thought.”

Up ahead, the road split, and they followed an even narrower street that wound up the hillside. On the edge of the town, one side was now just a steep grassy embankment leading up to the base of massive limestone cliffs that cradled the sleepy little village. If they had some time later, Commander Lewis thought to himself, he’d love to take a shot at flashing a few of those brilliant limestone walls.

“What about you Doctor Hall?” Admiral Reyes asked.

“I’m with the Commander on this one,” Dr. Hall replied flatly. 

“I worry about you two,” the admiral said, shaking her head. “There’s got to be something more to life than just duty.” It was but a platitude. She was no better, two years older than Commander Lewis and having given no more thought to retirement than him. Maybe she could settle in a place like this? No, she reminded herself. She’d go crazy in a downtempo place like this. Wherever she retired, it would need to be somewhere she could keep herself busy.

They turned to their right and descended some stairs into a small courtyard.

“Ah, here we are,” Reyes said as she approached a pastel green door with a couple potted plants on an adjacent windowsill. She knocked twice and waited.

A few moments later, an elderly gentleman opened the door. Although Admiral Reyes had told him she was coming to Earth days ago, Aria Edir’s husband still looked shocked to see her and her two colleagues standing there. 

“Allison, forgive me. I didn’t realize you’d be here today.” Mark had lost any sense of time since Aria Edir had gone missing. “Please, please, come in,” he offered as he gestured for them to step inside.

The three officers stepped into the small flat that Mark Ellis and Aria Edir had made their home. Sunlight and a light breeze blew through the open windows, and they could smell the scents of something in the oven.

“Mark,” Admiral Reyes said as she embraced him in a hug. “I am so terribly sorry.” In her own head, she held herself responsible for what had happened to his wife.

“Allison, please tell me what is going on,” he begged, looking at the Fleet Admiral helplessly. He had dark bags under his eyes, exhausted from the uncertainty of waiting, hoping and praying that Aria would return. He longed for some answers. “You didn’t say anything on our call, but your presence here says everything.” 

“We’re not exactly sure,” Reyes admitted as she truly didn’t know. “But we’re here to find out.”

“You’re telling me you flew back from wherever you were simply to help me look for my wife?” Mark frowned. “There’s got to be more to the story than that.”

“How much do you know about what’s been going on in Deneb Sector?” Reyes asked.

“I heard the Breen have been testing our borders a bit, but other than that, not much,” Mark replied, wondering where the admiral was going with this. What did the far away Deneb Sector have to do with his wife’s disappearance here on Earth?

“Contrary to what you’ve heard, we spent the last month fighting the Dominion in the Deneb Sector,” Reyes said flatly.

“The Dominion?” That didn’t make sense. If the Dominion was back, he’d have heard about it. 

“Yes, the Dominion,” nodded Reyes. “For reasons still not understood, the Dominion fleet that went missing during its trip through the wormhole back in 2374 reappeared last month, and they immediately went on the offensive, unknowing or unwilling to accept that the war was over.”

Mark looked shocked. “Why have we heard nothing about this?” If this was true, it should have been all over the Federation News Network, and Starfleet would’ve been responding to the threat rather than gathering over Earth for Frontier Day.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Reyes said frustratedly. “But Command failed to acknowledge it, and the FNN has said nothing. Fleet Admiral Ramar rallied the Fourth Fleet, but we stood alone with no support whatsoever from the rest of Starfleet. After we retook Nasera from…”

“Wait, Nasera? You mean that industrial center of 8 million people… they took it, and it just went unnoticed?”

“Yes, they took Nasera, Divinium, Izar, and many others in the opening days of their blitzkrieg,” Reyes explained.

The shock on Mark’s face was evident. Reyes had just named major worlds with millions of colonists a piece. It seemed crazy to think they could have been captured without any news whatsoever. “I can’t believe we haven’t heard a thing, and that Starfleet hasn’t done a thing.”

“Yeah, well that’s what Aria was helping me with,” Reyes continued. “You see, after we retook Nasera, we collected recordings from those who’d been under the yoke of the Dominion. Heart wrenching stories of suffering at the hands of the Jem’Hadar. Aria was going to find a way to get them to the public. We knew that if the public heard what we witnessed, the uproar would force Starfleet to act.”

“I assume this is why she said she was going to Milan?” Mark asked. “The FNN has a major broadcasting center in the Piazza del Duomo overlooking the old cathedral.”

Admiral Reyes nodded.

“And what’s the situation in Deneb now?”

“We managed to push the Lost Fleet out of Deneb and back into the Gamma Quadrant,” Admiral Reyes explained. “But we only prevailed through hail marys, miracles and heavy sacrifices. Would have been a very different outcome, with a lot less suffering, if we could have rallied the whole of Starfleet.”

“I mean, I guess it’s good at least that Deneb is safe,” Mark stated, but his thoughts were with his wife who remained missing. “But I still don’t understand how Aria’s disappearance factors into all of this. Like do you think someone was actively trying to stop the truth from getting out?”

“We’re not sure, but we’re going to get to the bottom of it,” Admiral Reyes said confidently. “Don’t worry Mark. I promise you we’ll do everything in our power to find her and bring her home safe.”

After a bit of small talk, Admiral Reyes and her two operators took their leave.

“That is a dangerous promise you made back there Allison,” Lewis warned as they wound their way back through the cobblestone streets of the quiet commune. “There’s no promise she’s still alive, or that we’ll ever find her.”

“I know Jake,” Reyes sighed. “But what am I going to say to a grieving man? I’m the one that put Edir in harm’s way and, as opposed to the rest of us, she is no longer a soldier.”

“Uniform or no uniform, the call of duty remains,” Commander Lewis stated firmly, and Admiral Reyes knew the commander was right. Retired or not, Rear Admiral Edir would always answer the call, even knowing the risks. It was in her DNA.

“What I find odd is why didn’t the Rear Admiral say anything to her husband?” Dr. Hall observed.

“After Aria retired, she had a hard time pulling herself away. Mark, on the other hand, felt they’d both more than fulfilled their obligations to the fleet and really should just settle into a quiet life away from it all,” Reyes explained. “It was a point of tension between them for years. If she’d told Mark what she was doing with me, he might have tried to talk her out of it.” 

“Yeah, but this wasn’t some trivial matter you needed her help with,” Commander Lewis said, doubling down on the point Dr. Hall had made. “Mark Ellis was once a captain himself. You’d think that, when it came to something like this, they’d be united in rising to the call.”

“Us three cannot pretend to know what goes on in married life,” Reyes laughed. Neither she, nor Lewis or Hall, had ever been married to anything except the work. “But what we do know is how to tear a place apart until we find some answers. Commander, take your team to the FNN broadcast center in Milan and see what you can dig up. Dr. Hall, you and I are going to take a trip to San Francisco to have a little chat with the admiralty.”

A low, thick fog hung over the bay, and a brisk breeze blew out of the west. The chilly spring morning in San Francisco was a far cry from the sunny hills of Provence they’d just left. Admiral Reyes and Dr. Hall made their way inside, navigating a sea of red, yellow and teal uniforms as they approached the central reception desk.

A commander in security yellow looked up at them. Flag officers were the norm at Starfleet Headquarters, but the five pips on her collar got his attention. “Good morning ma’am,” he greeted courteously. “How may I be of assistance?”

“Here for Fleet Admiral Shelby.”

“Your name please? And do you have an appointment?” The security officer made it his business to know all the senior staff that frequented these halls, but he didn’t recognize this Fleet Admiral. She had a strange air about her too, a demeanor more reminiscent of a frontier line captain than a senior administrator.

“Fleet Admiral Allison Reyes, and no, I do not, but I’m here on an urgent matter of Federation security,” she answered with a firm tone. “I need to speak with the CinC at once.”

“Please give me a moment to call upstairs,” the commander asked kindly. The Commander-in-Chief of Starfleet did not have a lot of unscheduled guests, and she, along with the rest of Starfleet Command’s senior staff, were incredibly busy getting ready for Frontier Day. He didn’t even know if she was onsite today. Most of the last week, she’d been either entertaining dignitaries in Paris or supervising final preparations at Sol Station.

Admiral Reyes and Dr. Hall took a seat in the lobby to wait.

“Shelby huh?” Dr. Hall asked her colleague. “Bold move going straight to the top.”

“Absolutely. I want to hear from Shelby herself why she turned her back on billions of our people and left the Fourth Fleet to stand alone,” Reyes replied quietly enough that no one else could hear. “If she knew what was happening and did nothing, then she abdicated her oath. If she didn’t know, then this place is utterly incompetent.”

Dr. Hall smiled. Those were fighting words, and this was going to be mighty interesting.

The commander approached them a few minutes later. “I am sorry ma’am,” he apologized. “But Fleet Admiral Shelby’s office says her schedule is full, and she is not taking any visitors.”

That was not an acceptable answer. Admiral Reyes stood up and drew herself uncomfortably close to the security officer. “Commander, let me be very clear with you. I am not a visitor. I am a Fleet Admiral who just got back from fighting a war that you all failed to notice.” Her words were cold and biting, and they caught the security officer completely off guard. “If Elizabeth is too busy hanging decorations for her little jubilee, then find me a member of the command staff that is actually down to do some real work.”

The security officer stood there in shock at her choice of words. 

“If it’s not clear, that’s an order,” Reyes snapped as her gaze narrowed on him.

He hustled off.

“If they won’t see us, odds are that they knew and intentionally did nothing,” Dr. Hall observed. “After what you did to the Command Council a few years ago though, I’d think they’d at least send a lowly Vice Admiral down here to lie to our faces.”

“You’re so cynical, Dr. Hall,” Reyes replied. “I’ve got to have hope that maybe, just maybe, this shit doesn’t run all the way to the top.”

“Shit usually flows downhill Admiral.”

And so they waited, and waited, and waited. Dr. Hall walked over to the reception desk a couple times to check on the commander’s progress. Each time she’d return to Admiral Reyes, her observations were the same. The commander appeared to be trying to help them, but he was coming up short again and again. The Chief of Staff was out of office. The heads of Starfleet Security, Starfleet Tactical and Starfleet Intelligence wouldn’t see them. Even the deputies were supposedly too busy. Admiral Reyes hoped Commander Lewis and his team were having better luck in Milan.

After the better part of an hour, a senior figure descended the grand staircase and approached them. But it wasn’t an Admiral or even a Commodore. Instead, it was a man wearing the pips of an Ambassador. Admiral Reyes knew him well.

“Michael,” she said with a smile and she embraced him in a hug. Then she stepped back and introduced him to her colleague. “Dr. Hall, please meet Admiral… or should I say Ambassador Michael Drake, a former TFCO within the Fourth Fleet.”

“Wow does that take me back,” Ambassador Drake laughed as he shook hands with Dr. Hall. “It’s been well over a decade since I hung up those pips. But it’s a pleasure to meet you Dr. Hall.” He turned back to his old friend. “And Allison, what a surprise seeing you here. I’m going to guess, knowing you, that you didn’t come for the fireworks or the parade?”

“Oh, I assure you I couldn’t care less about what happened a hundred and fifty years ago,” Reyes replied flatly. “I’m here to speak with Command about what happened last month in Dene…”

Drake raised his hand to stop her. “Not here,” he cautioned as he looked over his shoulder. “And none of them are going to hear it from you anyways so let’s go for a walk outside.”

Admiral Reyes frowned. Her stubbornness wanted to rip the building apart until she could find someone to give a piece of her mind to, but she understood what Drake was saying. Reyes and Dr. Hall followed Drake out of the building into gardens. “I assume you are aware of what happened in the Deneb Sector?” Reyes asked as they made their way through the gardens.

“I’ve heard whispers here and there,” Ambassador Drake nodded. “Although I’ll admit more of it came from foreign representatives than our own staff.” The Cardassans had been his best source of information, and it was understandable given their prior experience with the Dominion.

“What the hell is going on with Command? Why did they sit idle?”

“They’re unwilling to even entertain a conversation on the topic,” Drake replied disappointedly. “Not with me, not with you, not with anyone. But thankfully, as I understand from the Cardassians, you guys clutched it out, and the Lost Fleet has been sent packing back to the Gamma Quadrant… which begs the question, why are you here?”

“Looking for answers.”

“You will find none of those here,” Drake said disappointedly. Reyes shot him a frustrated look that told him she wasn’t in the mood to hear such an answer. But that was all the answer he had. “Allison, trust me, there is nothing here for you except frustration and disappointment. You’d be best to turn around and…”

“That’s not going to work for me Michael!” Reyes interrupted impassionately. “Nine hundred and thirty five died on my watch, retaking Nasera from those monsters. All across the sector, it was the same story again and again. You cannot wash away the blood of our officers and our colonists that easily!” Drake just shook his head. “What has gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” Drake replied in a resigned tone. “I’m just being realistic. This is not the Starfleet it used to be. Never has been since the attack on Mars. It looked like things might turn around after you guys launched the Osiris Initiative, but after staring down the Romulan fleet over Coppelius, and then that whole thing with the Borg, there are many within Starfleet that want us to keep our focus here in the defense of our homeland.”

“Deneb is our homeland,” Reyes snapped as she drew to a stop. “Those colonists, they are Federation citizens. They put their trust in us, and we let them down. If we cannot defend our own and meet our oath, then who are we?”

“Go back to the frontier Allison,” the Ambassador urged, doing his best to ignore her plea even though deep down inside, he agreed. “You’ve got a good thing going out there with Ramar, Dahlgren and Beckett, an opportunity to actually make a difference. Here, you’ll just get swallowed up in a bureaucracy that doesn’t want you.” Like he had.

Admiral Reyes looked at him quizzically. This was a former Admiral in the Fourth Fleet, a man she had long respected for his leadership and his determination. To hear him now, disappointing didn’t come close to capturing it. 

“Edir is missing,” Reyes said. “If you’ve so given up on Starfleet that you don’t care that they sat idle while our people died, at least tell me you still care about our old friends.”

“She’s what?”

“She’s missing,” Reyes explained. “A few weeks ago, I asked her to find a way to go public with stories we collected from those who suffered under Dominion oppression in the Deneb Sector. You know, to build a public movement to compel Starfleet to act. But she went over to Milan to speak with the FNN, and then she disappeared.”

“I’m not even going to get into the laws you’d have broken doing that,” Drake replied, shaking his head. He couldn’t imagine that his son, Reyes’ JAG officer, would ever have signed off on such a thing. “But what are you saying? Are you insinuating that someone here had something to do with her disappearance?”

“If not, then it’s a mighty suspicious coincidence.”

“You’re chasing ghosts Allison.”

“Am I?”

“Look, I feel for you. I really do,” Drake offered empathetically. “And I feel horrible about Edir. I’ll reach out to a few old friends and see if I can find anything out. But Allison, you’re playing a dangerous game here. Shelby and Co. will not take kindly to you doing anything that messes up their grand vision.”

Reyes shook her head, absolutely baffled. “To listen to you now, your son and your daughter, they would be embarrassed,” she said, trying to snap him out of his malaise. “Elsie and Robert, they’re still both living in the ideals of Starfleet, the real Starfleet, out there in the stars beyond. To think that their father, the man they looked up to, the man they followed into Starfleet, would sit here idle like this, yeah, I don’t know what to say.”

The ambassador sighed. He wished it wasn’t this way. He wished that he was out in the stars like Admiral Reyes and his kids, but he wasn’t. He was here, and this was his reality. All he could do was make his little mark on the Federation Diplomatic Corps. He’d tried to do more, but they wouldn’t listen. After so many years of trying, he’d just accepted it. 

“Look, I’ve offered you my counsel Allison. Take it or leave it,” Drake concluded as he turned to leave. “But if you insist on sticking around and poking the bear, just watch your back.”

Without another word, Ambassador Drake walked away.

Admiral Reyes and Dr. Hall watched him go.

“It’s curious, isn’t it?” asked Dr. Hall.

“What?”

“Ambassador Drake’s entire demeanor,” the psychologist responded. “He knows more than he’s letting on. You waived his duty, his friend, and his children in his face, and yet he never really reacted. It’s almost as though he was sticking to a script.”

“You might be right,” nodded the admiral. “That’s nothing like the Michael Drake I knew all those years ago.” Neither was this Starfleet anything like the Starfleet she had joined all those years ago. Something was very wrong.

A quick fingerprinting exercise confirmed that the quadrant’s largest news conglomerate was protected by military-grade cybersecurity. Even if she tasked workloads back to the Serenity, hacking the Federation News Network would take days. Chief Petty Officer Shafir set her pentest suite to work and then turned to other possible sources of information.

“Hey Commander, any concerns if I take a pass at cracking the local gov while we wait? They’re bound to have feeds saved somewhere.”

“Go for it,” Commander Lewis agreed without hesitation.

As opposed to the Federation News Network, the municipal government for the City of Milan was not well defended. After a short few minutes, the Chief reported success: “I’m in, and I’ve located all of their camera data.”

“Scrub it for traces of Edir.”

“Stand by. It’s going to take a few minutes to run the convolutional neural net without tripping the monitors.” She could have blown through it faster, but that could spike IO and network traffic and trigger performance monitoring tools. By throttling the workload, she blended her routines into background noise.

“Doesn’t it bother you we’re hacking our own government here?” Lieutenant J.G Jace Morgan asked as they waited for the model to finish. “Couldn’t we just submit the paperwork to get this properly?” The city government wasn’t the enemy, but they were treating it like it was.

“And give them an opportunity to say no?” Commander Lewis asked. “Absolutely not.” If they did it by protocol, Starfleet Intelligence would submit a request to Starfleet Security, which would then pass it through the Starfleet Office of Civilian Affairs. After that, it would enter into the Federation legal system, where it would queue up for review by a Federal Magistrate before they could do anything with it. At best, it would take weeks, and with the chilling welcome Reyes had reported from San Francisco, the likelihood they’d ever see an approval was near zero. It was far easier to just break in.

“What about respecting the privacy of our citizens?” Morgan pressed. He believed they’d done the right thing on Nasera, crossed lines only because it was necessary to save their officers and the colony, but hacking the city government wasn’t like that. It wasn’t necessary. It felt simply like they were doing it because they could, sliding down a slippery slope. “The principle of individual privacy is enshrined deeply within our laws.”

“And we’re sticking by the spirit of those laws, Jace,” Ayala countered gently. “I’m not invading individual privacy. Only the model sees the vast stream of imagery. All we get back is the hits on Rear Admiral Edir, who I’m pretty sure would like us to find her. Everything else is thrown out, and thus privacy is preserved.”

Jace Morgan took a deep breath. Ayala was right. He was getting bent out of shape over nothing. The whole Nasera affair, the ongoing investigation, the JAG’s biting words, it had gotten under his skin, and was making him question things he shouldn’t.

“Ok, I’ve got it,” Shafir declared. The team huddled around to see the results.

“She beamed into Piazza Armando Diaz, walked past the art museum, crossed through the square, and went straight to the FNN broadcast center in the Galleria,” Shafir explained as she showed them the hits on the map. “And nothing on any feeds after that.”

“So she goes inside and then never leaves?” Lewis asked.

“That’s certainly what it appears like,” Shafir confirmed. “Unless she beamed out from within.” It was within the realm of possibilities that she could have left of her own accord from within the building, but since she’d never come home after, it reasoned that she did not.

“What about the FNN internal cams? Any luck getting to them yet?”

“Nope, not so far,” Shafir replied as she rechecked the progress of her pentest suite. “The FNN uses an isolated darknet with a central ingress-egress terminator, which means that, unless we compromise their physical security and get to the equipment itself, otherwise I have to crack their core backbone to get anywhere. My best guess is it’s going to take a day or two.”

“Then I say we pay a visit to the broadcast center.”

“And do what?”

“Waive around our credentials and see what happens,” Commander Lewis laughed. He was fully aware that media outlets did not take kindly to meddling from Starfleet investigators, and the FNN would not roll over just because Starfleet asked. “Sometimes rattling the hive causes honey to fall out.”

Commander Lewis, Chief Shafir, Lieutenant Morgan and Ensign Rel packed up their gear and headed out of the dusky apartment serving as their safehouse for the investigation. 

The evening streets of Milan’s old city center were bustling with activity, a mix of businessmen, shoppers, tourists and theatergoers. They passed old churches and theaters interspersed with high fashion boutiques and decadent eateries, and then they came upon the impressive Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II. They paid no heed to the fancy shop fronts, nor the iron-and-glass vaulted ceilings, instead hustling up stairwells to the higher floors of the Galleria that hosted the FNN broadcast center.

When they stepped into the FNN lobby, there was a single woman sitting at a reception desk. “How may I help you?” she asked courteously, surprised to see four Starfleet officers standing before her. She hadn’t seen anything on today’s broadcast calendar that led her to expect them.

“We are here on official Starfleet business,” Commander Lewis explained. “Is there someone we can speak with?”

“Let me ping our news director and see if he can come over.”

Not even ten seconds later, a heavyset man in a perfectly tailored Milanese suit, hand-crafted Coridanian leather shoes, and an antique timepiece from a notable Swiss watchmaker stepped into the room. He walked with a proud and pompous gait as he approached the Starfleet officers. “Good evening. To what does the Federation News Network owe the pleasure of a visit from Starfleet’s finest?”

“An ongoing investigation of a former officer,” Commander Lewis explained. “Seventeen days ago, retired Rear Admiral Edir visited this facility. We are here to understand the purpose of her visit and if anything out of the ordinary occurred.” 

“Oh yes, Admiral Edir,” the news director smiled broadly. “She’s one of my favorites to have as a guest commentator when we talk military policy and affairs of the galactic west.” 

“Why was she here seventeen days ago?”

“Unfortunately, I am not at liberty to discuss anything that,” he explained, his smile vanishing and his tone becoming firm. “I can neither acknowledge why she may have been here, nor what purpose such a visit could have had.”

“She was here,” Commander Lewis replied as he flipped a PADD towards the news director with a picture of Admiral Edir walking into the FNN broadcast center. “Clear as day from this security camera.”

“Isn’t that a mild intrusion of personal privacy?” the news director asked as he furled his brow. “For your sake, I’m going to pretend I didn’t see Starfleet using city surveillance equipment to spy on the movements of its free citizens. As for Aria Edir, any business she has with us is between us and her. We do not disclose sources or methods, especially not to the likes of Starfleet. Mister Lewis, as a broker of information yourself, I’m sure you understand how such disclosure would ruin our ability to source.”

The Commander ran the conversation back in his head. Had he ever introduced himself? He was pretty sure he’d never said his name. It was thus surprising the news director knew him by name. “What if I told you that your favorite guest commentator went missing right after she made this visit?” Lewis prompted as he watched the news director for any tells.

“If true, I’d tell you that I was disappointed,” the news director replied with no visible discomfort. “But it doesn’t change our position. Disappointing things happen every day, and if we compromise our values every time something goes wrong, we’ll have no values left.”

“I have a duly signed order from Admiral…” Lewis began, attempting to hand another PADD to the news director.

The news director put his hand up in an obstinate refusal to take it. “I most certainly will not,” he asserted firmly, his tone becoming hostile. “I don’t care that you have orders from Reyes. Hell, I wouldn’t care if you had orders from Shelby or Chekov either. Unless you get a court order, you’ll need to bugger off.” His gaze narrowed on Commander Lewis. This conversation would go nowhere.

Their duel of words continued for a few more minutes, but eventually it became clear that the conversation was going nowhere so the operators took their leave and departed the FNN offices, winding their way back to the apartment they’d made their safehouse for the investigation.

“Well, that didn’t go well.”

“Nope, didn’t get a goddamned thing.”

“At least we got to stretch our legs,” Chief Shafir laughed as she looked over at their commander. Lewis had a smug look on his face. “Jake, why do you look so pleased? Is there something we missed?”

“Yes, they know far more than they’re letting on,” Lewis nodded. “I never introduced myself, but he knew my name and seemed almost familiar with me. He also name dropped Reyes, even though I never said her name. And did you notice how swiftly he showed up when we arrived? We were expected. And that means there’s more going on here than meets the eye… We need to go back there and learn more.”

“They’re not going to be any more loose lipped the second time. What’s the plan?”

“Oh, we’re not going to talk to them again,” laughed Commander Lewis. “It’s time for a little B&E to snoop around.”

Gone were the Starfleet uniforms, pips and combadges. Now, in dirty coveralls with hunched shoulders, they wore badges identifying them as a maintenance crew for the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II. Weaving through the sub basement with janitorial carts and dusty bags, no one paid them any notice, completely oblivious to their nefarious purpose.

The four operators stepped into a service lift. Chief Petty Officer Shafir swiped her badge and selected the fourth floor. The lift began moving.

“I find it ironic that the FNN has military-grade network security,” remarked Lieutenant Morgan. “And yet here we are walking straight into their facility because the Galleria’s property manager forgot to put a firewall around their access control system.”

“It’s pretty much how it always goes,” laughed Chief Shafir. “Always a weak point somewhere.” It would have taken her days to hack the perimeter of the Federation News Network’s corporate network, but simply riding up the maintenance lift to gain physical access to systems already connected to that internal network was as easy as cloning a few low-tech access cards.

The door opened and the operators stepped into the dark hallways of the FNN facility.

“All clear,” Commander Lewis declared after checking his tricorder for lifesigns.

Just as they had anticipated, once the sun fell over the Po Valley and the broadcast had shifted west to American news desks, the FNN staff had cleared out of the Milanese broadcast center. While Chief Shafir and Lieutenant Morgan headed for the server room, Commander Lewis and Ensign Rel explored the rest of the facility, looking for opportunities to bug common spaces and private offices with nano-scale surveillance devices.

Lewis and Rel stepped into a large conference room with wall-to-wall windows overlooking the Piazza del Duomo. 

“Wow! This is a view if ever I’ve seen one,” exclaimed Ensign Rel. Directional lighting illuminated the front facade of the millennium-old Milan Cathedral, moonlight reflected off the geometrical patterns of the plaza’s smooth stone surface, and dark silhouettes meandered around the bronze statue of King Victor Emmanuel II. Rel brought herself close to Lewis. “It’s almost romantic, isn’t it?” she asked with a smile.

“It’s an impressive view,” Commander Lewis replied disapprovingly. “But we have a mission to complete.” He had begun to develop feelings for the ensign, just as she had for him, but there was a time and a place, and this was neither. The stakes were too high. They, as Starfleet officers, could not be caught breaking into a civilian news agency. That would not do well in the papers. “Let’s just get his room bugged before we get discovered.”

“Yes sir,” Ensign Rel chuckled with a lighthearted salute as she pulled out a nano-applicator and used it to embed a near-invisible listening device into a ceiling light. “But you know, you can accomplish the mission and still enjoy the experi…”

Pew.

A characteristic sound interrupted Ensign Rel mid-sentence.

Pew Pew.

And then twice more. The sounds were unmistakable.

“Ah hell,” Commander Lewis said as he drew his phaser and bolted for the door. Ensign Rel was right behind him, phaser at the ready.

Pew Pew… Pew Pew Pew.

The tempo picked up, two parties now clearly exchanging fire.

Commander Lewis and Ensign Rel reached a bend in the hallway, and they could hear the gunfire dead ahead. They peered around the corner. Two men in dark combat fatigues had taken up position outside the server room and were unloading volley after volley inside. Chief Shafir and Lieutenant Morgan were returning fire, but the assailants had a clear positional advantage.

“Phasers to stun,” Commander Lewis whispered to Ensign Rel. For all they knew, the assailants could be local police or corporate security here to stop a robbery. Murdering the good guys never looked good, especially when you were the one breaking the law and  conducting a B&E. “I got the guy on the left.”

“I got right.”

“Three… Two… One… Fire.”

In perfect synchronicity, Lewis and Rel opened fire. Their aim was true. The shots hit their mark. Both targets collapsed, incapacitated by doses of low energy nadion particles that had temporarily overwhelmed their central nervous systems.

“Clear!”

Chief Shafir and Lieutenant Morgan emerged from the server room, while Commander Lewis crossed to the unconscious attackers so he could get a better look at the pair. Short haircuts and muscular builds, their type was familiar. These were men trained for combat. He picked up one of their rifles. Sturdy, high quality construction, not a Starfleet model but the sort that top-notch private contractors used. At first, Commander Lewis would have assumed this was the Federation News Network’s security team. However, there was one thing that made him less certain. 

“This is curious,” Lewis observed. “These rifles are set to kill.”

That got everyone’s attention. Starfleet and civilian security officers almost never went lethal since it didn’t offer much benefit. But these guys had gone lethal right here in the middle of a major city center on Earth.

“Who the hell are these guys?” Shafir asked. “Clearly they had no interest in apprehending us.”

Commander Lewis ran his tricorder over each of the two assailants, taking a high resolution imagery of each. “Lewis to Serenity. I’m sending you imagery of two individuals. Run it through our Security and Intel databases and see what comes back.”

“Anything in particular we should look for, Commander?”

“Not sure.” He didn’t bother telling the Serenity where these images had come from. He hadn’t exactly told Fleet Admiral Reyes, Lieutenant Commander Eidran, or any of them what he and his team was up to. Plausible deniability.

“Understood. Will call you back in five.”

The comlink cut off, but before the team could decide on a next step, Ensign Rel’s tricorder began beeping. “Hey Commander, we got company,” she reported as she reviewed the details. “Six new lifesigns just entered the lobby, and four more coming up the service lift.” They’d cut off both of the exits.

“Hell, guess our cover is blown,” Commander Lewis sighed. The team had slipped into the broadcast center in a very low-tech way so as not to trip any alarms, but the phaser fire must have alerted someone to their presence. With two bodies on the ground before them, any hope of stealth was gone, so might as well just bail the easy way. “Hey Serenity,” he ordered, tapping his combadge again. “Got a situation on our hands. Four to beam up. Immediately.”

“Serenity here. Stand by…” came the voice of the officer of the watch. “What the hell are you standing next to? We can’t get a lock on you at all…” The readings didn’t make any sense. It was almost like a jamming field had gone up, but why would there be a jamming field in the center of Milan?

Suddenly, the comlink went static. The line dropped. And they couldn’t reestablish it.

“Well, this is curious,” Lieutenant Morgan mused as he looked at his own tricorder. “Some sort of interference pattern just went up that’s blocking transporters and comms… Never seen anything quite like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s incredibly sophisticated, removing specific bands almost as if it’s targeting our equipment specifically without impacting anything else,” Lieutenant Morgan explained. At first, it had only jammed transporter frequencies, but then interference went up over their comlink wavelengths. “And it’s constantly re-modulating so Serenity will never be able to resolve through it.”

“How far does the interference stretch?”

“Half a dozen city blocks in all directions.”

“They don’t want us leaving,” Commander Lewis observed as he raised his phaser and began moving down the hall. “Which means things are about to get messy.” This was going to be hard to explain.

“Vedi, è tranquilla,” the poet insisted, but his friends looked down, resigned and grief-stricken. “Che vuol dire? Quell’andare e venire… Quel guardarmi cosi?” But their eyes bore a harsh truth. She was dead. He knew it, deep down. He just didn’t want to believe it. He collapsed by the bedside and began to cry.

“Coraggio,” his friend begged, but courage could not carry him through the anguish of reality. 

“Mimì! Mimì! Mimì!” he wailed, and his sobs echoed through the chamber as the curtain fell. In the darkness afterwards, there was only silence, the audience lost in the deep emotions of the Bohemian tragedy. But then the lights came up. The audience rose to their feet. Cheers and loud applause came from the stalls, the boxes and the gallery. What a show! The troupe came out and took a bow, and then everyone began to filter for the exits.

A young couple merrily made their way past marble pillars and down grand staircases. On a romantic soirée far from the sterile corridors of San Francisco, they’d abandoned their duty uniforms in favor of something more appropriate for the grandeur of the opera. He wore a jacquard navy suit with black lapels, and she’d chosen a flowly phthalo gray evening gown.

“That was brilliant, wasn’t it?”

“Absolutely breathtaking!”

“La Bohème is such a classi…”

But then they heard it, and their eyes met.

“Is that what I think it is?” he asked incredulously. To a security officer such as Lieutenant Lionel West, the sound was unmistakable, even though it was completely out of place here.

They paused and listened carefully. And then they heard it again.

“Oh my god… that sounds like phaser fire!” she agreed as shock washed across her face. As a medical officer, Lieutenant Melia Kahale knew exactly what sounds meant. Casualties. “We’re in the frickin middle of Milan… what’s going on?”

“I don’t know, but let’s check it out,” he replied as he drew his phaser from his jacket.

They’d come to Teatro alla Scala to enjoy the graceful composition of Puccini and the emotional libretto of Illica and Giacosa, but their first duty was to the people. They weren’t sure what exactly was going on, but he knew they needed to respond. Without hesitation, they rushed toward the sound of phaser fire.

“Lieutenant West to Starfleet Security. Come in please.”

Nothing.

“Starfleet Security?”

No response.

“Starfleet Operations? … Starfleet Command? … Starfleet Intelligence? … Starfleet officers of any kind?”

Still no response.

“Fuck, I dunno… Milan Metro Police? Earth Civil Defense? Anyone?” 

But still no response.

He had no way of knowing that the assailants had deployed a sophisticated jammer rendering comms and transporters useless across the old city center. He wouldn’t get a response so long as the jammer was active, and it would significantly delay any police or Starfleet response. 

They were undeterred though. The pair emerged through the triple arches of La Scala’s grand atrium, ready to confront whatever lay ahead. And directly across the Piazza della Scala, they saw four individuals dressed in maintenance coveralls exchanging fire with a half dozen men in dark combat fatigues. It looked like they’d all come from the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, and the gunfight was progressing quickly into the plaza. The problem was dozens of theatergoers stood there in the plaza, mixing and mingling after the performance. Nothing good would come of this.

“Watch out!” Lieutenant Kahale screamed at the innocent bystanders as a phaser blast hit a tree branch and wood went flying. People began screaming loudly and fleeing in every direction.

The chaos was exactly what Commander Lewis and his team needed. Clad in their coveralls, fleeing from the FNN broadcast center, the four operators ran straight into the crowd, using the mass of bodies for cover.

At the risk of harming too many civilians, their pursuers stopped shooting. They cared not for a few casualties, but this snatch and grab was supposed to be discreet. Littering the street with bodies would make things too messy. They shouldered their rifles and hustled after their prey. The two squads dodged and weaved through the crowd, Lewis and his team attempting to create space while their pursuers tried to close the gap.

This was going to be hard to explain to Admiral Reyes, Commander Lewis thought to himself as he sidestepped an elderly couple. He hadn’t exactly told her he was going to break into a civilian news agency, but he’d figured a casual little B&E didn’t really hurt unless you got caught. The problem here was that it had now turned into a full on brawl directly in front of Milan’s premier opera house. There was an ass chewing in his future for sure, if they could find a way out of here first. He still didn’t exactly understand how their break-in had been discovered, nor who their pursuers were – except he was pretty sure they weren’t the FNN’s corporate security.

Right as Commander Lewis and his team crossed the old streetcar tracks adjacent the opera house, a shot rang out in the night. Commander Lewis dove behind a colonnade as the shot hit Chief Petty Officer Shafir in the chest. Her body went limp, and she crumpled onto the cobblestones.

“Fuck!” Lewis screamed. Where the hell had that shot come from? Not behind them. The angle was wrong. It was almost as if it had been taken from overhead… “Sniper!” Lewis warned but too late. Two more shots rang out from high above. One hit Lieutenant Morgan in the shoulder, and the other hit a civilian right in front of Ensign Rel. Both collapsed to the ground.

“Are they?” Ensign Rel asked in a terrified voice as she ducked behind a pillar next to the Lewis. The rifle they’d taken from one of their attackers earlier on had been set to kill.

“No,” Commander Lewis shook his head. From his position, he could see Ayala Shafir’s ribcage still rising and falling in a slow, tempered rhythm. “Just stunned.” Although he wasn’t quite sure why, somewhere between the Federation News Network’s broadcast center and the Teatro alla Scala, the rules of engagement had changed. And thank god for that. Right after all they’d gone through on Nasera, the idea of losing Ayala Shafir or Jace Morgan was not something Jake Lewis or Elyssia Rel were ready to stomach.

Overhead, they heard the whoosh of shuttle engines. They now knew where the shots had come from. Beams of light cut through the fog, and two unmarked shuttles came into view, descending rapidly towards the center of plaza with rifle-toting operators hanging out the rear cargo door. Commander Lewis and Ensign Rel placed careful shots into the square to hold their pursuers across the street, but the numbers were getting worse and worse, and the civilians were making it very hard to exchange fire safely.

“We’ve got to move!” Lewis insisted.

“What about Ayala and Jace?” Rel asked.

“Too much heat, and too many civvies.” Commander Lewis liked a good shootout as much as anyone, but this little op had turned into a shitshow, and there were far too many civilians present. A stray shot was all but guaranteed to kill an innocent bystander if they kept at the gunfight. “We don’t have a choice. Come on!”

As Commander Lewis and Ensign Rel fled into the opera house, Lieutenants West and Kahale approached the pair of shuttles that had just landed in the square. They held their combadges over their heads to identify themselves as Starfleet officers, and West had his phaser drawn. No one moved around Earth airspace without clearance from Sol Station, so they assumed the new arrivals would heed their authority, and they could contain the situation before it got any worse.

But they were wrong.

“Starfleet Security!” shouted Lieutenant West as he aimed his phaser at the men exiting the shuttle. “Stop right where you are! Identify yourselves!”

But the tactical team just poured out of the shuttle, undeterred by the man in a three piece suit holding a phaser. They just trotted past him as if he and his phaser didn’t exist at all.

“I said stop! That’s an order!”

The tactical team didn’t care. No one so much as made eye contact with him or his date as they fanned out to secure the square.

The last person off the shuttle was an immense seven foot tall beast of a man with biceps the size of Lieutenant West’s head. As opposed to the others, he walked straight towards Lieutenant West. His rifle was trained on the Starfleet officer, and his eyes narrowed on him.

“Explain yourself!” Lieutenant West demanded. “Or I will shoot!”

“That’s cute,” the hulk of a man chuckled as he stared at the pitiful creature and its puny sidearm. He thought it was funny how Starfleet officers always stated their intentions first. It made them predictable and slow to the draw. Without warning, he simply squeezed the trigger.

Lieutenant West crumpled to the ground, dead.

The shooter turned his barrel upon the woman in the evening gown. She stood there, mouth agape, stunned at what she’d just seen. The shooter didn’t wait for whatever pathetic words the young woman might eventually muster. Instead, he just squeezed the trigger again.

Lieutenant Kahale joined her partner in the afterlife.

“I really wish you hadn’t done that,” another man said as he drew up next to the shooter. “We were supposed to be discreet. The rules of engagement were Reyes’ people only. It’s going to be a lot harder to explain this.” Shrapnel, burn scars, dead officers, an unconscious civilian, and dozens of witnesses. It was anything but discreet.

“Eh, you worry too much. It’ll all be over in a few days anyways.”

“Grab the fleeters,” the second man ordered of his men. “And let’s get moving on the double!” It would be best if they were long gone by the time the authorities arrived.

With military precision, the tactical team lifted the unconscious bodies of Chief Shafir and Lieutenant Morgan onto the shuttle, along with the lifeless corpses of Lieutenants West and Kahale. The rear doors weren’t even shut before the shuttles began to lift away.

As the pair of unmarked shuttles raced north towards the Lepontine Alps, they picked up four police interceptors and a runabout on approach. “We got company,” reported the pilot in one of the shuttles. “Local law enforcement. They’re hailing.”

“Unknown shuttles bearing three three zero mark three four zero,” came the voice of a surly, no-nonsense metropolitan police officer. “You are ordered to change heading at once for zero four zero and proceed directly to the Milan municipal spaceport!”

“What seems to be the issue?” the pilot asked coyly. He did not alter course.

“Your point of origin is an active crime scene,” explained the officer. “You are wanted by the Milan metro police force for questioning. Adjust heading immediately or we will be forced to engage you.” Sensors indicated the interceptors were weapons hot, and the police officer calling the shots from the runabout was prepared to give the order. He had no idea who these people were, but he knew what had just happened in the city center, and he intended to bring them in.

“That will not be necessary,” the pilot replied calmly. “Transmitting credentials now. Once you validate, you will let us continue on our way under Code of Federation Regulations 11 Section 214.”

The police officer ran the credentials. They came back clean. He revalidated them. They came back clean again. Then he checked the transponder ident. Clean as well. And as much as he didn’t want to believe it, it all checked out, and he knew the regs. “Confirmed, Starfleet Intelligence. You’re all clear. Free to proceed.”

And so off the pair of unmarked shuttles went, disappearing into the shadows of the high alpine peaks.

Night had fallen over Moustiers-Sainte-Marie. Besides the chirp of crickets and the crash of water, only silence greeted the admiral and the psychologist as they walked the cobblestone roads of the antiquated village cut into the limestone cliffs of Provence. A pair of faint silhouettes backlit by dim street lamps stood directly ahead on the arch bridge that ran over Ravin de Notre-Dam.

“You know what time it is, don’t you Jake?” asked the Admiral Reyes as she and Dr. Hall approached Commander Lewis and Ensign Rel. “Your message was very cryptic. Why’d you drag me and Lisa out of bed? Do we need to pay another visit to Mark?”

“He’s gone,” the commander replied flatly.

“Wait, what?”

“And it’s worse than that. They knew we were coming.”

“Who knew you were coming?” Admiral Reyes did not understand what Commander Lewis was talking about, but she could tell something was wrong. He looked spooked, and that wasn’t normal for the seasoned spook. “What is going on?”

“Honestly, no fucking idea.” Commander Lewis was a mixture of frustrated and pissed. “We got ambushed while we were breaking into the FNN. Didn’t trip any alarms, but they knew we were coming, and they came in weapons hot.”

“Wait, hold on…” The admiral raised her hand to slow him down. It was a lot to take in, and it did not align with her understanding of the op. “When we spoke earlier, you said you were going to stop by the broadcast center to talk to the news director. You didn’t say anything about breaking in. That’s waaay off the reservation Jake. Do you know how…”

“Let’s talk about that bit later,” Lewis tried to cut her off.

“No Jake, let’s talk about it now!” Reyes snapped as her eyes narrowed on her old friend. How did he not get it? On Nasera, it was ok to cross some lines against the Dominion to save thousands of Starfleet and Federation lives.But this was completely different. They were on Earth for crying out loud, and a Starfleet officer could not just go breaking into a civilian news agency. “We cannot be doing shit like that…”

“Spare me, Allison,” Lewis interrupted again. “We’ve got bigger problems.”

“We… we what?” Reyes scoffed. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Had Commander Lewis gone completely mad?

The Commander extended his hand, opening his palm to reveal a button, a filament from a light, and a battery from a nightstand. “Recognize these?” 

Reyes shrugged. She knew what they looked like, but she figured that wasn’t the point.

“These are household items from Mark and Aria’s home,” Commander Lewis explained. “But each of them has an embedded nano-recorder. After we realized we’d been compromised in Milan, Elyssia and I came back here to look for answers. Mark was gone, so we tossed the house and these turned up.”

“Someone bugged their house?”

“Yes, and I’d hazard a guess that if we went back to the safehouse in Milan, we’d probably find that it was bugged too… not that we can do that with those shooters crawling around looking for us.” Focused on the escape that he and Ensign Rel had managed out the service exits of Teatro alla Scala, he was not aware that the tactical unit had departed Milan directly after the scene in the plaza.

“Shooters?” asked Admiral Reyes.

“The tactical unit that ambushed us. They weren’t mall cops from the Galleria nor run-of-the-mill corporate security the FNN would have hired,” Lewis explained. “These guys were paramilitary operators, well trained and well prepared. They dropped jammers over the downtown to block our transporters and comms. They engaged us in a gunfight without hesitation. And they even flew reinforcements via shuttle straight into the downtown area completely unobstructed.”

Those were concerning details, thought Admiral Reyes to herself. The technical sophistication necessary to jam Starfleet-grade transporters was not insignificant, and the actions they’d taken were incredibly bold. Who was their enemy? And why were they going to so much trouble to stop her and her team? Her conversation with Ambassador Drake had suggested something nefarious was afoot, but what Commander Lewis and his team had encountered in Milan all but confirmed it.

“And they were good enough to apprehend Shafir and Morgan,” Commander Lewis added.

Admiral Reyes sighed. Not only did they have the problem of getting caught breaking into a civilian media company, and the problem of a public firefight, and the problem of a capable and confident, yet still unknown, enemy, but now they also had the problem that two of their own had been captured by that enemy. It was a lot of problems all at once. “What’re you thinking Jake?”

“These devices,” Commander Lewis replied, his focus returning to the surveillance devices that he and Ensign Rel had found. “They work by collecting for some period of time and then waking up to call home. Elyssia and I neutered their ability to call home, but that’s as much as we could do. They’re very sophisticated tech.” In fact, he thought to himself, he was pretty sure they were of Starfleet origin. “Someone like Shafir though could probably reverse them and find out where home is.” The problem, of course, is that Shafir was one of the ones who’d been captured.

“Anyone up on the Serenity who could help?” asked Dr. Hall.

“Doubtful.” You needed someone who specialized in breaking into things, not someone who simply maintained them. “And besides, as the Admiral has kindly pointed out,” Commander Lewis added as he glanced over at Reyes frustratedly. “We’re pretty far off the reservation here. One of those kids might blabber if we brought them into this.” He’d already been taken for a fool once today, and he did not plan on putting his faith in those children they’d adopted when they commandeered the Serenity. They needed someone they could trust. And then it dawned on him. “Dr. Brooks!”

“Who?”

“Tom Brooks, my former head of exotic sciences on the Enigma,” Commander Lewis explained. “He’s got at least another year here on Earth. He’d be more than capable of cracking these, and he definitely knows how to keep his mouth shut.”

“Where can we find him?”

“Well, that’s the interesting part,” laughed Commander Lewis as he looked down at his watch as he calculated the time difference. “If we hurry, we can probably make it in time for brunch. I hear the penal colony makes a mean oatmeal.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Admiral Reyes scoffed. First, Lewis went and broke into a media agency, and now he was suggested picking his old friend up from prison. The commander was certainly doing his best to look completely unhinged.

“Got any better ideas Allison?”

The admiral shrugged. The reality was she had nothing better. Starfleet Command had been a bust. The investigation in Milan had turned up nothing. And now, in addition to Rear Admiral Edir, they’d now lost two of their own people. Along the way, they’d also discovered they were under observation this whole time, but they had absolutely no idea by whom. They needed a wizard to help run this clue down, and they were very short on people they could trust. Maybe out of the box was exactly what they needed.

“Alright, then Tom it is,” Commander Lewis concluded. “I’m just going to need you to ink an excuse so we can go pick him up.”

“On what grounds?” Admiral Reyes asked pragmatically. While her pips could open a lot of doors, they did not give her carte blanche with the penal system.

“Tell me Commander,” Dr. Hall asked. “What’s Dr. Brooks in for?” 

“Multiple violations of the temporal prime directive,” Commander Lewis explained. “All the way back to his time with me, he was fixated on the Temporal Cold War, but after the Enigma got shut down, Tom just went further and further off the deep end. Eventually, after a few too many timeline displacements, uptime agents had to intervene.”

“Well then, the cover story almost writes itself,” Dr. Hall smiled.

A thousand stinging bites like lying on a bed of fire ants. An uncomfortable formication, the feeling of those ants crawling under his skin. Crawling and biting. Lighting his nerves ablaze. He screamed in agony. It was unbearable. He dug his nails into his skin. Make it stop! Make it STOP! No amount of digging and scratching would stop it though. Because there were no fire ants.  It was all in his head.

“You can make this all stop. You can make this all go away.”

He heard the words, but he couldn’t see the speaker. In fact, he couldn’t see at all. The pain was too much. It completely overwhelmed his senses.

“All you need to do is answer my question.”

He couldn’t do that. He knew his duty, his responsibility. 

“I am a prisoner. My name is Jace Morgan. I am a commissioned officer in the United Federation of Planets’ Starfleet. My service number is…” 

But then the pain surged forward, even worse this time than the last.

It no longer felt like ants. Now it felt like a smelting pot had been poured over him, superheated molten ore running down his chest and back. But it didn’t melt his insides. It didn’t kill him. If it had, it would have at least ended this misery. Instead, it only felt like that way. In reality, there was no smelting pot. It was all in his head.

Is this what it had felt like for the Vorta when they pumped him full of psychoactives on Nasera? Was this the pain he had brought upon another living creature? At least that Vorta had at least been put out of its misery eventually. Maybe someone would do that to him now? To end it. To make it stop.

No! He was a Starfleet officer. He would resist. He would endure. He would escape.

But the excruciating, unbearable pain, it just kept coming, wave after wave. His parasympathetic nervous system began to overheat, and he started to hyperventilate as neurogenic shock overtook him. 

And then he blacked out. 

The room was silent.

Two men walked in. One of them was the massive hulk of a man from Piazza della Scala who had shot those two innocent officers that had tried to play hero. He carried a large metal table. The other was a lanky pale-faced scientist with disheveled hair. He carried two metal chairs.

“You really outdid yourself this time,” the shooter laughed as they arranged the table and chairs in the middle of the room. “That was quite a show.”

“This is the fun stuff,” the scrawny scientist replied. He walked over to the unconscious Starfleet officer, pulled a hypospray from his utility belt, and pressed it to the man’s carotid. With a hiss, a new cocktail entered Lieutenant Morgan’s bloodstream. For the next round of his ordeal. “They all break eventually. How’s Shafir doing?”

“Honestly, she’s just sitting there as if nothing is happening,” the shooter explained as he lifted Lieutenant Morgan’s limp frame up into one of the chairs they’d brought into the room. “Are you sure you didn’t go easy on her because she’s a cute little girl?” he asked as he shackled Morgan’s hands to the chair. “Maybe you should up her dose… double or triple it just to be safe?”

“My friend, if I dumped that much shit into your bloodstream, you’d be crying like a bitch just like Mister Morgan here,” the scientist laughed. “If I go any harder on Miss Shafir, it’ll likely kill her.”

“Do we really care?”

“Yes, we do. The instructions were clear. We are to get what we can from Reyes’ people, but under no circumstance are we to kill them.” The scientist had no problem with murder, but disobedience was a no go. He understood the logic too. Killing Morgan and Shafir would limit their options later, and so they had to be kept alive. For now.

“Their little investigation won’t accomplish anything. Honestly, this all just seems a bit silly,” the shooter insisted as the pair left the holding cell and began walking back down the hallway. “The die has already been cast. There’s nothing they can do to stop us at this point.”

“Mind your words and remember yourself,” said a pompous, self-assured male voice from the shadows. “The only reason we are at this point is because we take no chances and remain ever-vigilant. Is Lieutenant Morgan ready to see me?”

“He’ll be waking up in a bit, and he should be appropriately loosened up for you,” the lanky scientist replied with a smile. The counteragents in that cocktail would numb the pain to levels that would not send him back into neurogenic shock, and the psychoactives he’d layered in would cause disinhibition, dissociation and derealization. “Enjoy.”

“Oh I will,” said Commander Robert Drake, the Staff Judge Advocate for the USS Polaris, as he stepped out of the shadows.

The reception room was barren. Just a couple well worn chairs with peeling leather, a faded gray paint on aged walls, and a bored petty officer in security yellow sitting behind a thick plexiglass barrier. He looked up at the sharp-looking lieutenant in teal and the weathered commander in red as they stepped into the room. Curious, he thought to himself. They didn’t have any visitors on the schedule today.

“Good afternoon,” said Dr. Hall as she approached the window. Her tone was professional and courteous, and she slid a PADD under the glass to the officer on the other side. “I have orders for a temporary medical transfer of Inmate C-621-224.” 

The brig officer reviewed the PADD. The orders specified the short-term transfer of Thomas D. Brooks into the custody of Lieutenant Lisa Hall, Ph.D. as the subject of a study on temporal dissociative disorder. The orders came on the masthead of the Fourth Fleet with the signature of a Fleet Admiral by the name of Allison Reyes, who was listed as Director of the Advanced Science, Technology and Research Activity.

“Please give me a moment,” the brig officer asked. “I’ll need to call someone down here to verify.” He simply managed the entry and exit of visitors. He didn’t handle the release of prisoners. “Please feel free to have a seat. It’ll just be a couple minutes.”

Dr. Hall nodded and took a seat. Commander Lewis stayed standing.

A few minutes later, a Starfleet Captain stepped through a door labeled Authorized Personnel Only. He walked straight up to Dr. Hall with his hand outstretched. She rose and shook it as he introduced himself. “I am Captain Ledren Drai, Associate Warden for Rehabilitation here at the New Zealand Penal Colony. I understand you are here for the temporary transfer of an inmate?”

“That is correct,” Dr. Hall replied as she handed him the PADD. “My unit is conducting research around the effects that recurrent temporal displacement has on mental health, and Dr. Brooks is a person of interest for the study.”

Drai turned to his colleague. “Devlin, did you validate the orders?”

“Yes sir,” the petty officer confirmed. While he’d never heard of the unit taking custody of the inmate, nor the Fleet Admiral who’d signed the paperwork, the system validated the orders. They were genuine, albeit very fresh. “Filed thirty minutes ago.”

“Why such a rush?” Drai asked, looking back over at the lieutenant.

“We were not originally scheduled to be in the Sol system,” Dr. Hall bluffed. “But Frontier Day pulled us in, as it seems it has just about everyone, so here we are. The Director figured that, since we’re here, we might as well not miss the opportunity to visit with someone with as many displacements on his record as Dr. Brooks.”

“Dr. Brooks is an odd duck, I’ll give you that,” agreed Captain Drai. What she was saying made sense. “He’s been with us for four years, and I understand him no better today than the day he arrived. He’s always blabbering about something that’s going to happen in the past or something that’s already happened in the future.”

“Yes, it’s called temporal dissociative disorder,” Dr. Hall explained. She had reviewed the notes from the colony’s staff while preparing their cover. Aligning with their expectations made it easier to accept the story. “It’s not well understood given how rare displacements are, especially with any degree of recurrence. My team is doing the first real research into it.”

Captain Drai nodded. A bit strange but made sense.

“As someone who takes pride in the rehabilitation of others, I’m sure you see the importance of studies like this,” Dr. Hall added gently with a compassionate smile. “I mean… Is Dr. Brooks any closer to a reintroduction into society today than he was when he arrived four years ago?” She’d read Captain Drai’s bio. She knew how to motivate him.

“No, I suppose not,” Captain Drai admitted regretfully.

“We’re looking to change that.”

“I appreciate that,” Captain Drai agreed. “But this is all a bit outside the norm.” He had no reason to be skeptical, but rather it was just an observation. “Such work is typically done here in our facilities under our supervision.”

“You do not have the equipment we need,” Dr. Hall explained.

“What about the security of the prisoner?”

“That is my responsibility,” Commander Lewis said with a gruff yet reassuringly confident tone. “I assure you that we are more than capable of ensuring that Dr. Brooks remains in custody, and we will have him back within seventy two hours as per orders.”

The way Commander Lewis said it, Captain Drai had no doubt he was telling the truth. The commander might have been wearing red, but he sounded like he’d fit perfectly in yellow if he ever wanted a change in career. And so, while they arrived as two, they left as three. It was time to hunt the hunters and to get some answers.

The floor was cold. Cold like the ocean. She recalled a memory. Floating in a great blue ocean. The sun falling beneath the horizon. the sky lit deep orange reflecting on the water. Serenity. Like her ship. Serenity. Like her mind. Serenity. Her nerves told her she was in a furnace, that she was being cooked alive, that her skin was burning off, but those nerves were lying to her. She knew that. She focused on the coldness of the floor to stay sane. This was all in her head. 

A lanky, disheveled man walked into the room. She recognized him. He was the enemy’s version of Dr. Hall, a mastermind of pharmacological misery. He’d visited her a few times since she’d come to be in this place. How long had she been in this place? She had no idea.

“My, my, aren’t you stubborn,” the scientist shook his head as he looked at her. “You could have just given us what we wanted. But no, now it gets far worse.” He knew what came next. Next the tortures of the mind would meet the tortures of the flesh. He leaned over with a hypospray. This would exponentiate her nerve receptors. He didn’t want her to miss the experience.

Ayala Shafir wanted to grab his arm. If she had the strength, any strength at all, she would have trapped it, pulled guard, rolled him, transitioned to mount, and unloaded fists until her knuckles bled. But she couldn’t do that. A neuromuscular blockade limited the action potential of her motor impulses. Her arms could do little more than flop around.

She heard the hiss of the hypospray. 

What awaited her next? Nothing. It would all just be in her mind. Or she thought.

Another man walked into the room. He was huge, seven feet tall and two fifty in pure muscle, the shooter from Piazza della Scala. But men like this didn’t bother her. They were just brutes. What would he do? Beat her? So what? They’d all just be stardust someday anyway.

“She’s all yours,” the scientist smiled sadistically.

The shooter pulled a pliers from his belt as he approached her and lowered himself to her level.

“What’s going on in that brain of yours, little girl?” he asked. He looked her in the eyes, and he placed the jaws of the pliers around the pointer finger on her right hand. 

Chief Petty Officer Shafir tried to pull away, but he grabbed her by the wrist. Her muscular function was so sedated by the cocktail in her bloodstream that she couldn’t resist. 

“All we want to know is why you were poking around in Milan? What were you looking for?”

Shafir just stared at him blankly.

“You don’t have to go through this, you know,” he said as the pliers began to compress on the metacarpal bone of her index finger. She had a pretty face and a lithe frame, and he was about to start ripping it into pieces. What a shame. “You’re just a pawn for Admiral Reyes. You don’t have to pay the price while she sits pretty up there. Just tell us what we need to know.”

Still she said nothing.

So be it, he thought to himself. With one burly hand holding her wrist, he squeezed down with the other. The fulcrum rotated and the jaws compressed. Her captor twisted and ripped and pulled. Ligaments tore. Bone cracked. Skin stretched.

The pressure, the tearing, the pain, she bit down and closed her eyes. As he just kept on torquing the pliers, she accepted what was coming. She knew how it would end. Her finger fell to the floor, and blood flowed from the empty metacarpal socket.

And yet still Ayala Shafir sat silent.

The man picked the bloody finger up off the ground. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” he scowled as he shoved the detached finger in her face. How the hell did he not get a peep out of her?

She just smiled smugly at him. Did it hurt? Oh god yes! It hurt like bloody murder. Was she on the edge of passing out from the pain? Absolutely. But she would not give him the satisfaction. So she just kept on smiling.

“You’re a fucking nutcase!” he screamed as he chucked her finger at her.

Feeling it collide with her chest, it made it so much more real. That was a piece of her. Or it was a piece of her. How many little pieces would he carve her up into before this was all over? It made her want to vomit. But no, she would not give them such satisfaction. In the end, they would all just be a million little pieces of stardust anyways.

“You say I’m a pawn,” Shafir asked, drawing herself into a duel of words to distract from her corporeal reality. “But are you any better?” 

The brute looked shocked. All this time not saying a thing, and now, after all that, her first words were will fighting words? How was she still fighting? Didn’t she know it was futile?

“All this and you’re nothing but a tool for someone else’s game,” Shafir pressed bitingly. She had no idea who her captors were, but she could deduce some basic facts from what she’d observed of them. “You’ll just be used until the day you are no longer convenient.”

“Isn’t that true for us all, Miss Shafir?” the scientist asked.

The use of her name caught her off guard. She had not shared it. In fact, she had not given them anything at all. Not even a scream. They had dropped Admiral Reyes’ name earlier too. How did they know those details? Had Lieutenant Morgan cracked? Or did they have another source of information?

“You suffer on others’ behalf,” the scientist continued. “But you don’t have to, Ayala. There is an easy solution. Just answer our questions, and all the suffering will be over.”

“Suffering? You call this suffering? This is but child’s play,” she scoffed as she raised her hand in the air to showcase the missing index finger. “Wait until the roles are reversed, until my people find you. And trust me, they will. And when they do, this will look like nothing. You will beg for mercy and tell us that you were just following orders, but we won’t care.” She knew Jake Lewis well enough to know that, whether or not she survived, there would be no happy ending for these guys, no comfy little bed in a six by eight cell. At least that gave her some comfort.

“You almost sound like one of us, Chief,” the brute observed. Her dossier had been a juicy read, especially the redacted bits, but even it hadn’t suggested just how truly psychotic she was now demonstrating herself to be. “You sure you don’t want to join our new world order? I think you’d fit in quite well, and it’s just days…”

“Now, now, my friend,” the scientist interrupted, stopping his colleague from oversharing. “Do you really want a shooter without a trigger finger? I’d call her damaged goods.” He started to laugh maniacally, all part of his attempt to get under her skin.

“I’m better without any of my fingers than you are with all of them,” she retorted angrily. “So you want to go for another?” She raised her hand with just her middle finger extended, and then she spat at the brute. A thick glob of saliva hit him in the face.

He was over it. His fist came fast. It struck her square across the jaw, jostling her brainstem, instantly turning out her lights. She crumpled over on the floor, unconscious once more. “Insufferable bitch. I’m over it. You sure we can’t just kill her?”

The scientist shook his head, and the shooter stormed out of the room.

Great shooter but such a temper, the scientist thought to himself. He approached the girl. She was actually pretty impressive. She’d hung on longer than he’d ever expected. Typically, only the Klingons lasted this long. He pulled out a dermal regenerator and sealed the stub where once her finger had been. He didn’t need her bleeding out. He’d have to kill her eventually for she already knew too much, but for now, he needed her alive.

As the scientist walked back out of the room, he wondered how things were going down the hall. Hopefully Commander Drake was getting further with Lieutenant Morgan than they had gotten with Chief Shafir.

He felt metal against his cheek. He felt the restraints that bound his wrists. The memories started flooding back. The interrogation. The pain. The torture. Lying there with his face on the table, Lieutenant Jace Morgan opened his eyes. He was in a brightly lit room, and a Starfleet officer sat across the table in a neatly pressed uniform. He recognized the man.

“Commander Drake?” Was he going crazy? He had memories of agony in a dark room. They were raw and fresh like they’d just happened. But now he was sitting in a  bright room across from the Staff Judge Advocate of the USS Polaris. Commander Robert Drake was an ivory tower ideologue conducting an investigation of them for what they did on Nasera. His recent memories and his present reality didn’t align. “What is this?”

“Justice.”

“Where am I?”

“Right where you belong.”

“What have you done to me?”

“Nothing. Yet.”

“No… no… I… I remember…” Lieutenant Morgan stuttered as he reached for his memories. His brain was foggy. He was exhausted. But then he remembered. He saw flashes of the nightmare he’d just endured. The fire ants. The smelting pot. The indescribable pain. “I was tortured.”

“What are you talking about?” Commander Drake asked incredulously. “You’ve been in my custody ever since you were arrested for breaking into a civilian news agency.” A completely inappropriate act for a Starfleet officer to commit. Just like what the team had done on Nasera.

“You’re lying! I remember!” Lieutenant Morgan shouted angrily as he recalled more of what he’d been through. If he’d been in the JAG’s custody this whole time, then the JAG was involved in his ordeal and had crossed serious lines. “The same lines you accused us of crossing on Nasera…”

“No, Lieutenant Morgan, you’re mistaken,” Commander Drake shook his head. “I assure you that you’ve been treated humanely ever since your arrest. Far more than can be said for that Vorta in your captivity… If you ask me, it sounds like your mind is trying to cope with your guilt and is forcing you to relive your crimes through the eyes of your victims. You would not be the first war criminals I’ve seen go through this.”

Was he going crazy? It sure felt that way.

“I’m told confession can provide a real sense of relief,” Commander Drake suggested. “It can be the first step in a journey of rehabilitation. I cannot condone what you did, but I’m here to help you with your recovery…” This was all calculated, the earlier torture and the current scene, supplemented with a thick cocktail coursing through his veins. It was all meant to weaken his inhibitions and detach him from reality. “So where shall we begin? What happened with the Vorta on Nasera? Or what you and the rest of Lewis’ goons are doing here on Earth?”

No! He wasn’t going there with the JAG, Lieutenant Morgan told himself. Not now. Not ever. He was loyal to his team. He and his team had done what needed to be done, and he would stand by them.

“Ok fine, I’ll pick,” Commander Drake continued. “Let’s start with Nasera. We ran a tox panel on the Vorta. Do you have any idea what you, Commander Lewis and Dr. Hall put him through?” 

Lieutenant Morgan said nothing. Even before his arrest, he was already feeling guilty over what they had done. Did the ends justify the means? Now, with the psychoactives and the memories, he started to doubt those choices even more.

“Let me tell you…” Commander Drake savagely pressed on his distress. “He felt fire. Like lying on a bed of hot nails. Like being dumped in a pit of lava…”

The JAG officer kept on going, but Lieutenant Morgan couldn’t hear it. Drake’s words forced him into a flashback, not that of torturing the Vorta but rather that of being tortured himself. Those memories felt so real. But were they? Commander Drake was a JAG officer, not a sadist. Maybe it was as the JAG officer had said. Maybe it was all in his head. Maybe this was his guilt coming home to roost.

“It was a war crime, plain and simple,” Commander Drake drew to a close as Lieutenant Morgan came back to the present moment. “But here’s the thing, Lieutenant. I’m not after you. I want Commander Lewis and Admiral Reyes. Tell me what they’re up to, and you won’t spend a single night in prison.”

Prison. That’s right. That’s where he’d end up for his crimes. And they were crimes. He knew that. He’d participated in the torture of a restrained prisoner, and he’d stood idle while his commanding officer executed that Vorta in their custody. Maybe all those memories he was seeing in his head  were actually just manifestations of his guilt.

“They’re looking for someone,” Lieutenant Morgan admitted. “A rear admiral.”

“Yes, Rear Admiral Aria Edir,” Commander Drake nodded. This was not news. “I’ve already been told that. You’re going to have to give me something more.”

“Admiral Reyes and Commander Lewis are convinced there’s a conspiracy within Starfleet,” Lieutenant Morgan shared. “They believe Command actively suppressed news of the Dominion invasion last month and that they nabbed Edir to prevent her from leaking the truth.”

“Who is this ‘they’ that you refer to?” asked Commander Drake as he leaned towards the Lieutenant. This was important. Did they know who the conspiracy involved? Or were they just chasing ghosts in empty hallways?

“We have no idea.”

“I see,” nodded the JAG as he leaned back in his chair. “What else are they planning to do?”

“I have no idea,” Lieutenant Morgan frowned. Then he locked eyes with the JAG, pleading that he listen: “But Commander Drake, please believe me… Something is very wrong. This is the thing you should be worried about. Not what we did on Nasera to save lives.”

“One wrong does not void another. I’m sure I can find time for both.”

Dr. Hall looked over at the astrophysicist they’d stolen away from the New Zealand Penal Colony. She knew this stuff took time, but with each passing hour, the likelihood of success slipped further away. At some point, the enemy would realize what they were doing, and they’d be in the wind. “Any progress?”

“Progress assumes directionality inconsistent with the manifold of reality,” replied Dr. Brooks as he ran a subspace resonance scanner over one of the nano-surveillance devices they’d found in the home of Rear Admiral Edir. “All that will happen has already happened, and everything that has happened will eventually happen, depending on the…”

“That is wholly unhelpful in the context of our frame of reference,” Dr. Hall interrupted. Every conversation with the disordered genius had gone something like this.

“Ah yes,” Dr. Brooks agreed, reminding himself that his body and hers existed here and now, at least in their current frame of reference, and that was the orientation to which he should root his answer. “I am closer than the last time you asked, and I am less close than I will be the next time you ask.”

“Do you have an idea of when exactly you will no longer be close, but will actually be done?” asked Dr. Hall. While a great cover story, his temporal dissociative disorder made conversing with Tom Brooks a wholly frustrating affair.

“In some manifestations of the spatiotemporal waveform, I am already done, and in others, I will never…” Dr. Brooks started to say before remembering himself. As much as it felt alien to him, she wanted a response in terms of the highest probability convergence of the waveform across their present state and directionality. “It is most likely that I will be done shortly.”

Dr. Hall nodded. It was the best she would get for now. She’d just need to be patient.

On the other side of the small studio they’d procured as a safehouse, Commander Lewis was fast asleep. Between investigations in Provence, shootouts in Milan, and breakouts from New Zealand, this was the first opportunity he’d had for sleep since the Serenity arrived over Earth. It was not good sleep, not with members of his team missing and an unknown force hunting them, but it was sleep nonetheless. Every human body needed it, and Commander Lewis knew that once they had a new beat on the enemy, they’d be right back on the grind, so he’d forced himself to sleep while they waited for Dr. Brooks to do his work.

Ensign Rel lay next to him. She couldn’t just turn the lights off like the thirty year spook could. Her nerves were racing. Were Ayala and Jace still alive? Would they find them? What awaited them when they did? And who was behind all of this? She could feel Commander Lewis’ chest rise and fall in a slow, melodic fashion. He made her feel safe, and she focused on that. Slowly, the metronome of his breathing and comfort of touch lulled her to sleep as she cuddled up to him.

Eventually, Dr. Brooks finished his scans of the communications relays on the surveillance devices and loaded the data up into a model he’d constructed. As the bioneural circuits did their work training the model on that telemetry, he glanced over at the odd pair that had fallen asleep. “Did the Commander get soft in his old age?”

Dr. Hall quirked an eyebrow. It was a surprisingly cogent and human thought from a man who, up to this point, seemed completely dissociated from reality.

“What?” laughed Dr. Brooks. “While I am the spitting image of temporal dissociative disorder, I am still well outside the extended norms of most scales, and it doesn’t take a genius level IQ to note that’s not how two platonic operators sleep.” Sure, there might have only been one bed in the small studio, and sure, they both needed the sleep, but if he’d been sharing a bed with Commander Lewis, he would have been sleeping butt-to-butt and certainly not spooning him.

“This doesn’t match your past experience with the Commander?”

“Most certainly not,” Dr. Brooks confirmed. In the years he’d served with Lewis aboard the USS Enigma, not once had he ever seen the man develop non-platonic attachment. He was a machine. It was part of what had made him so ruthlessly effective.

“It is uncharacteristic of him based on my observations as well,” Dr. Hall shared. She always appreciated how Lewis never let anything get in the way of the mission. This absolutely could. She didn’t care about the rules, but she did care about performance. “It’s the first time I’ve seen him exhibit such weakness.”

“I appreciate you see it that way doc.”

“Yeah, well I’m the one that’s going to have to deal with the sloppy little mess that will be that girl when Lewis kicks her to the curb,” Dr. Hall added. “Or gets himself killed.” It would be a race to see which happened first, and she absolutely despised the part of her job that was tending to the fragile emotional states of the willowy little flowers they put in Starfleet uniforms these days.

“He’s still trying to martyr himself?”

Dr. Hall nodded.

“In all permutations of spacetime, some things remain invariant,” laughed Dr. Brooks. Commander Lewis always had a death wish, but in a cruel sense of irony, the universe never obliged him. It kept him alive, while sending his team home in bodybags time and time again. “What about you, Dr. Hall? What made you throw in with this loony lot?”

“Because they don’t balk at what I do.”

“And what exactly is it that you do?” asked Dr. Brooks curiously. She didn’t come across like any counselor he’d ever met. There was something darker about her.

“Enhanced interrogation.”

“Ah yes,” Dr. Brooks smiled at the euphemism. “The art of torture. Not exactly something the Federation looks kindly upon, but it can prove very useful when traditional methods fail.” In a different era, Dr. Hall would have fit perfectly aboard the old ship where Lewis and Brooks had gotten into so much trouble together. Was Lewis trying to reconstruct the Enigma once more? Could such a thing even exist in a modern Starfleet?

“They don’t look too fondly on your work either,” Dr. Hall pointed out. “They literally have a directive banning it.” In preparing the cover to extract Dr. Brooks, she had become familiar with the chain of events that had landed Dr. Brooks in prison. It was dangerous work to put it mildly, and he’d gone so far that uptime had intervened.

“Starfleet is naive,” Dr. Brooks countered. “A war exists across time, and our admirals bury their heads in the sand, leaving our reality in the hands of uptime. I would prefer we played a more active role in shaping it.”

Dr. Hall was about to ask whether Dr. Brooks meant purely in defending the timeline, or if he meant manipulating it for greater gain, but her line of questioning was interrupted as the PADD began beeping. 

Dr. Brooks looked down at the PADD. “The future where progress has been achieved is now,” he reported gleefully as he reviewed the results before glancing over at Commander Lewis and Ensign Rel. “It’s time to wake up sleeping beauty. And the girl too.”

“That’s an odd place for the FNN to hold them,” Ensign Rel remarked.

“Sweetie, who said anything about the FNN? I got money that this is a Starfleet op,” Dr. Brooks replied. He’d already studied the location connected to the surveillance devices from Rear Admiral Edir’s home. “Healdsburg is a quick hop, skip and a jump from San Francisco, and they can stop by for a fine Sonoma red after they finish interrogating your friends.” The time tinkerer had no love for the people who locked him up.

Ensign Rel looked disconcerted. They’d just survived a shootout in Milan with an unknown force. Their opponent wore no insignia, but neither had their own team. Was it be possible that the shootout had been between two Starfleet units? And if they went to the coordinates they’d just reverse engineered, as she knew Commander Lewis would want to do, did that mean they might be going head-to-head with Starfleet again? She had no issue with what they did on Nasera, but this was totally different. These could be their own people.

Commander Lewis, on the other hand, had figured this moment might be coming. Command had done too good of a job suppressing what was happening in the Deneb Sector for Starfleet to not be culpable, and since they were now investigating it, it was all but guaranteed they’d eventually come up against their own. Still, geographic proximity alone wasn’t enough to make such a bold supposition. “Tom, you got anything else to back this up?”

“Mhmmmm,” Dr. Brooks nodded. “Or more should I say, I’ve got the absence of something.” 

Using Admiral Reyes’ credentials, Dr. Brooks queued up a satellite for a high resolution scan of the California countryside. A few moments later, a map appeared on the display. They could see the villas and vineyards of Healdsburg in incredibly fine detail. With one exception.

“That’s a security redaction from the EarthSat network,” Dr. Brooks explained as he pointed at the black spot in the center of the screen that matched their coordinates of interest. “Even with Admiral Reyes’ credentials, we still can’t see it. Not a high enough clearance level.”

As a Fleet Admiral with an intelligence background, there were few things that Reyes didn’t have access to except for compartmentalized programs. Commander Lewis now understood why Dr. Brooks had jumped to this conclusion. “A black site?”

“That would be my guess.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Dr. Brooks replied as he picked up one of these surveillance devices. “These devices are far too advanced to be civilian or even mainline fleet. They are almost certainly the work of our old friends.” He’d never seen anything quite like it, but when he’d been at Starfleet Science, he’d heard of some surveillance tech programs for Starfleet Intelligence that shared a common basis to the technical underpinnings of what they’d recovered from Edir’s home.

“Well, that’s going to make this interesting,” Commander Lewis laughed. What the hell were the intel folks up to? In what world did preventing Starfleet from responding to the Dominion threat further their objectives? There was only one way to find out. It was time to go to Healdsburg. He tapped his combadge. “Lewis to Reyes.”

“Reyes here,” came Admiral Reyes’ response almost immediately. Although it was the middle of the night, she knew what they were up to, and if Commander Lewis was calling, it was because he had something.

“It’s time for you to get down here,” Commander Lewis stated. “And bring your boots. We’re going on a field trip.” He kept it cryptic because, now that they had an idea who their opponent was, he had to assume that their communications could be compromised.

“Understood. I’ll be right down.”

The comlink terminated, and then Dr. Brooks looked over at Commander Lewis skeptically. “Are you sure about bringing an admiral on a sneak-and-peek against what is likely our own people?” he asked. While Reyes’ name was on the orders that temporarily transferred him from penal colony, and while he’d used her credentials to tap into the satellite network, there was a big difference between that and going boots on the ground. How would she handle it if it did turn out to be Starfleet officers on the other side of their operation? Would the fifty year old bureaucrat be a liability?

“Trust me, she can handle herself,” Commander Lewis assured Dr. Brooks. Then he looked over at Ensign Rel and Dr. Hall. “With Shafir and Morgan out, we’ve only got three shooters, so we need her.” Neither of his team members disagreed. Dr. Hall knew what Reyes could do, and Ensign Rel had seen her in action firsthand as they went door to door in Nasera City flushing out the Jem’Hadar.

“Well, you’ve got four of us,” Dr. Brooks corrected. “But I see your point.”

“Four?”

“I’m coming too,” Dr. Brooks said confidently. “Unless giving a convict a gun bothers you.”

Commander Lewis had no issue with Brooks’ status as an inmate. The reason the man was locked up was just the weak stomach of Starfleet anyways. But he was surprised that the brilliant scientist was offering to get his hands dirty. During their time serving together, Dr. Brooks had never actually been one to pick up a phaser. “You sure about that Tom?”

“A lot has changed since our time on the Enigma.”

The door creaked. She looked up. She saw the shadows of two bulky men step through the door. Between them, they carried a third, his feet scraping the flood, his head hunched over, his body almost lifeless. In the darkness, she couldn’t make out his features, but she knew who it was. She heard him grunt as they dropped him on the floor. They left as quickly as they’d arrived, and the room was dark and quiet once more.

“Jace?” 

“Is that you Ayala?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Chief Petty Officer Shafir replied as she felt her way through the darkness towards his voice. Her hand found his, and she squeezed it tightly. It felt reassuring just to touch someone she knew and trusted. “How’re you holding up buddy?”

“Not good, Ayala. Not good,” Lieutenant Morgan replied shakily. He pulled himself closer, close enough he could just barely make out her face through the darkness. “How are you?” 

“Surviving,” Chief Shafir answered in a tone devoid of emotion. As Morgan looked at her, he saw little more than a ghost. Her eyes were dark and cold, almost lifeless.

“I… I saw Commander Drake.”

“You what?” asked Chief Shafir. “That’s impossible.” Commander Drake was stationed aboard the USS Polaris, and they’d left him over Nasera when they skipped town on the USS Serenity. It made no sense for him to be here, nor that he would involve himself with something like this.

“No, I’m telling you, the JAG officer that’s investigating us, he’s here,” Lieutenant Morgan insisted with a look of desperation in his eyes. “He interrogated me and asked all sorts of questions about what we did on Nasera and what we’re up to now.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Chief Shafir shook her head. “Even if somehow he’s here, he’d never condone this. Robert Drake does not believe there is ever a situation that justifies compromising the lofty ideals of the Federation.” His rigid interpretation of the law was exactly the reason he was investigating them for their actions on Nasera. The ivory tower idealist did not subscribe to the premise that the ends justified the means. “You’ve got to be mistaken. It’s been a rough… however long it’s been.” Time had lost all meaning in captivity.

“Why does everyone keep telling me I’m crazy…” Lieutenant Morgan began to say, but he stopped short as Chief Shafir raised her right hand directly in front of his face, close enough he could see in the dim lighting. What he saw shocked him, a stub where once her index finger had been. “Wait… What happened to your finger Ayala? Did they… did they do that to you?”

“Mhmmm,” Shafir nodded. “Some pretty amateur shit, all things considered.” Such brutish tactics would not break her. She’d seen far worse in the past.

For Lieutenant Morgan though, as he stared at Ayala’s hand and listened to her talk, his own memories began flooding back. He relived the agony of a thousand fire ants biting at him under his skin, and he felt the excruciating pain of a smelting pot poured over his shoulders. Drake had told him that it didn’t happen, that it was all in his head, but Ayala was missing a finger. That wasn’t made up. He began to choke up. Had it all been real? Had he been played?

Senior Shafir noticed the panic and guilt on the lieutenant’s face. “Jace, what did you tell him?” While she knew Lieutenant Morgan was a skilled operator, she also knew he was young and had likely never faced anything like this before.

“Nothing,” Lieutenant Morgan replied defensively. “Or not much… I mean what could I tell him? I have no fucking idea what the fuck is going on!” He put his head in his hands as replayed the conversation. It was the duty of a prisoner to never give up one’s team. Had he said something to compromise them? He didn’t think he had, but he wasn’t really sure. He could barely remember that conversation, and he had no idea what was real or not anymore. “Did you give them anything Ayala?”

“Besides my finger and some heartburn, not a thing,” Shafir laughed darkly. “You see, what they don’t seem to understand is you cannot break what is already broken. I know the truth, Jace.”

“And what is the truth?”

“That one day we will be nothing more than stardust blowing in the wind,” Shafir replied coldly. “The only question is how much time passes before that day comes.”

Somehow, that didn’t make Lieutenant Morgan feel any better. Whether it was the drugs or the ordeal he’d just endured, he began sobbing uncontrollably. “This has been horrible,” he cried, uncontrolled emotion taking over. “Is this what we put that Vorta through?”

“Who gives a shit?” Chief Shafir countered. She certainly didn’t. That creature had killed almost a thousand of their fellow officers, and many times that number of innocent civilians. “If you guys made him suffer like this, then you all deserve a medal for letting him feel a fraction of the pain he wrought.”

But Lieutenant Morgan wasn’t so sure. Not after what he’d just lived through. What would come next? Would someone walk in and shoot them in the head, just like they had done to the Vorta? “What are we going to do, Ayala?”

“For now, all we can do is resist, endure and survive,” she replied. “And hope.” She knew that Commander Lewis would not rest until he found them. He did not leave his men behind. But he’d better do it quick. Otherwise, they’d be stardust sooner rather than later.

Typically, those who visited the Russian River Valley south of Healdsburg came for California’s finest Pinot Noirs and Chardonnays, but the five operators who materialized in the rocky riverbed in the dead of night had no interest in Sonoma’s varietals. Outfitted in tactical vests and night vision optics, they’d come to free their colleagues and get some answers.

“Target two klicks downstream,” Commander Lewis reported. “Stay alert.”

The team didn’t need to be told twice. Rifles raised, eyes scanning for threats, they were on high alert as they advanced down the riverbed. They knew the stakes. Their opponent had high-level access, technical sophistication, and bold intentions, and they were culpable in the disappearance of retired Rear Admiral Edir, her husband Mark Ellis, and two of their colleagues.

“It would have been nice if we could’ve just beamed directly there,” remarked Dr. Brooks as he climbed over the dried out trunk of a fallen Monterey cypress. Although he’d been hardened by the trials of war and incarceration and was no longer a soft-palmed theoretician, he still didn’t particularly enjoy bushwhacking through overgrown sedge, deergrass and brittlebush.

“Sure, but once we’re in control of the compound,” Commander Lewis reminded him. “It will work to our advantage to slow the arrival of reinforcements.”

“Unless those reinforcements can beam through the interference.”

“If they had that, we’d never have made it out of Milan,” Commander Lewis countered. “The enemy would have just beamed in all around us and ended it instantly.” Instead, they’d come by ground and by air, and that had allowed Commander Lewis and Ensign Rel to escape.

“You said it yourself, Dr. Brooks,” Admiral Reyes added. “The modulating harmonics of the jammer are irreversible, even if you know the exact parameters of the entropy generator.” Speculation untethered from reality did nothing except make you question yourself, even if it was a natural result of nerves.

The going was neither quick nor easy as the team navigated wet rocks, thick underbrush, and dense oaks, but forty minutes later, Commander Lewis raised his hand in a fist to draw the team to a stop.

“We’re here.”

The team dropped to their hands and knees and scurried up the bank. Staying low beneath the untamed chaparral, they looked out at the sprawling vineyard before them. The vineyard spanned grounds of at least a couple kilometers with an ornate villa in the middle of the estate.

“That’s a few too many rifles for a wine tasting,” Commander Lewis chuckled as he stared through a pair of digital binoculars at the villa and its surroundings. “Three shooters on the rooftop, two squads patrolling the grounds, and at least another dozen lifesigns inside the main estate.”

Right next to the Commander, Dr. Brooks stared through another pair of binoculars. “I cannot assess the quality of their grapes, but they definitely do more than wine here. The energy profile and SIGINT of the villa looks more like a runabout than a tasting room.”

“And how about that structure at ten o’clock, about a quarter klick from the main villa?” asked Commander Lewis. “Looks like a utility shed to me.”

“EM radiation coming off of it would suggest as much,” agreed Dr. Brooks.

“Before we show our hand, let’s check it first,” Commander Lewis replied as he put his binoculars back in pack and turned to the team. “Doc, you’re with me. The rest of you, hold here and give us cover.”

Quietly and carefully, Lewis and Brooks set off for the shed. The head-high grapevines gave the vineyard believable purpose, but they also gave the pair cover as they advanced towards their target. Meanwhile, Admiral Reyes provided occasional updates to them on the position of the roaming patrols, although none came within a hundred meters of the pair.

A few minutes later, Commander Lewis and Dr. Brooks were inside the shed.

“Bingo!” Dr. Brooks exclaimed as he looked around the small room. “Everything we could want. This looks like a network drop for the estate.” He began pulling gear out of his pack, wired it up to the system, and began running an advanced intrusion suite. “It’s strange they left this place so unprotected.”

“Easy to let your guard down and become complacent when you think your cover protects you,” Commander Lewis observed. From criminal overloads enjoying a coffee in broad daylight to admirals cutting dirty deals on the comfort of their own starbases, he’d faced many who’d made exactly this mistake.

As data began to stream onto his PADD, Dr. Brooks frowned. As much as he’d expected it, and as much as the intelligence suggested it, he’d still hoped for a different outcome. “You’re going to want to take a look at this,” he said as he handed the PADD to Commander Lewis. “The equipment, software, protocols… it’s all Starfleet spec.” He was already a convicted felon, and if things went south here, he’d get another decade or so tacked on for what they were about to do.

“So your hunch was correct?”

“Looks like it.”

Commander Lewis tapped his combadge. “Allison, we’re inside,” he reported. “And everything we’re seeing is Starfleet in design. This is almost certainly a black site.”

Crouched in the chaparral watching a roaming security detail through her binoculars, Admiral Reyes sighed. “You’re sure?” She’d hoped Dr. Brooks’ earlier hypothesis had been nothing more than a spook-inspired conspiracy theory, but given her experience in San Francisco, plus everything they’d been through to this point, it made sense.

“Either that or it’s the home of master thieves who stole a pile of high tech Starfleet gear and settled within earshot of HQ,” joked Commander Lewis. “Before we risk breaking a dozen laws, just want to confirm you still want to proceed?”

“Yes,” Admiral Reyes confirmed unwaveringly. “It’s time to get some answers.” 

Ensign Rel looked over at the Admiral, nerves visible on her face. Up to this point, they’d broken into a civilian facility and defended themselves when fired upon, but there was a big difference between that and intentionally engaging in a firefight against their own. 

Dr. Hall, for her sake, looked unperturbed. Although she wore the uniform, she had no trust in the institution. She’d seen far too much to believe it lived by its higher ideals, and everything about their present situation smelled like a conspiracy. Still, she was impressed to see an admiral of similar mind. Typically, such bureaucrats would never do such a thing, but Allison Reyes was showing yet again that she was a different breed.

“Do set your phasers to stun though,” Admiral Reyes added. “I don’t see how the disappearance of a retired Rear Admiral and her husband, nor the abduction of two of our crew, is aboveboard, but if this all ends up being a big misunderstanding, best we avoid having murder charges tacked on.” She was far beyond being willing to back down at this point though.

Each of the operators, both those in the shed and those on the hill, checked and rechecked their rifles and sidearms to make sure the settings were in place. Each of them felt the gravity of the situation.

“What’s the next move Commander?” Admiral Reyes asked. As the ranking officer, she owned the choice to proceed, but she deferred to Commander Lewis when it came to the actual tactics of the engagement. There was no more seasoned a shooter.

“Dr. Brooks is going to loop the surveillance feeds,” Commander Lewis explained. “And then we’ll circle back to you three and move on the villa.”

Silence settled over the group as everyone made final preparations.

An aged admiral, a washed out spook, a convicted criminal, a tainted psychologist, and a young pilot made a strange team, but no stranger than the mission itself. They were about to assault a vineyard that was, by all indications, a Starfleet black site implicated in the disappearance of a retired Rear Admiral, her husband, and two of their crew, and they were doing it within spitting distance of Starfleet Headquarters. If things went wrong, they could go very wrong very quickly.

With the surveillance feeds looped to mask their approach, Commander Lewis and Dr. Brooks returned to the perimeter of the vineyard’s grounds where Admiral Reyes, Dr. Hall and Ensign Rel awaited them. So good was the trio’s camouflage that even Commander Lewis’ hawkish eyes couldn’t spot them until they were right upon them.

“Ready to move?” Commander Lewis asked as his colleagues rose from the chaparral.

His question needed no response. Admiral Reyes had made the call. In mere minutes, they would engage seasoned operators who most likely once took the same oath as them. The Admiral had instructed them to set phasers to stun, but if the past was prologue, it was more than likely that blood would be spilled before the sun rose. They understood this reality, but they were nonetheless committed to the course. It was time for answers.

“Patrol Alpha passed to the west a few minutes ago, and Beta is a klick out on the far side of the estate,” reported Ensign Rel, who’d been studying the movement patterns of the patrols roaming the vineyard’s grounds. “We should be able to slip by them, and it will take them a few minutes to double back once we reveal ourselves.”

“That leaves only the three sentries on the roof,” Dr. Hall continued, layering in details about the three men she’d been studying who stood watch from the villa. “Their lackadaisical stance suggests they’d grown soft on this uneventful assignment.” When you had a well-concealed safehouse, it was easy to get lulled into a false sense of security.

“Then let’s get on with it,” Commander Lewis replied. He reshouldered his rifle and headed off into the sea of head-high grapevines that surrounded the estate, the team tight on his heels.

The approach went smoothly, their cover maintained until they were within a couple dozen meters of the villa’s outer walls. But then someone stepped on a dried branch that had fallen in their path. Crack. The sound of brittle wood breaking pierced the silence of the quiet night.

“Who’s there?” asked the nearest sentry as he turned in the direction of the sound. It was probably just another coyote or something, he figured. That hesitation was his downfall. Commander Lewis squeezed the trigger before he even raised his rifle.

A single shot rang out, striking the sentry dead center of the chest. His legs buckled as the low-energy polaron burst short circuited his central nervous system. He never had a chance.

The characteristic bright blue illumination of the phase pulse lancing out from the grapevines drew the attention of the other two sentries. They spun and raised their rifles, but before they could make out a target, two more shots rang out.

Admiral Reyes and Dr. Hall hit their marks. Both men fell where they stood.

“Move!” Commander Lewis shouted, and the team surged forward. They knew they’d now lost the element of surprise. The enemy would know they were here, and that meant it was now a race against the clock.

As he reached the wall, Commander Lewis drew a shaped charge from his tac vest. “Clear!” Commander Lewis shouted as slapped the charge against the stucco wall, depressing the detonator so fast that, if anyone hadn’t anticipated the move, they would have been hit with the energy of the explosion. But these were his people, either from his Hazard Team or from his past life, and they were ready for the quick action, bowing their heads so their tactical helmets would take any flying debris.

Before the dust had even settled, the team raced through the breach into the inner corridors of the villa, their rifles sweeping the long interior hallway. But for the moment, it was empty.

While Dr. Hall had profiled the sentries, and Ensign Rel had tracked the roaming patrols, Admiral Reyes had constructed a map of the villa through narrow-beam spectrographic scans. “Left,” she ordered as the team began to move down the hallway. “Past the courtyard and then down into the basement.”

Their muzzles danced past doorways and corners, covering any possible approaches, as they moved towards their target. They got as far as the courtyard before they were met by the enemy. Four men in dark camouflage had taken up position on the other side of the courtyard, and they opened fire without hesitation.

“Take cover!”

A barrage of phaser collided against the colonnade, and the team returned fire. The exchange was heated, and the two sides were at a draw. As Commander Lewis peaked out from behind a pillar and unloaded a volley before being forced to withdraw as opposing fire was hurled his way, he could not help but note that these guys were good. Very good. Their shots were dead accurate. If they kept at this for long, someone would take a hit.

“Allison,” Commander Lewis asked as debris flew off a pillar that was struck by enemy fire. “You’re sure our people are in the basement?”

“As certain as I can be.”

“How do you know?”

“Everyone else was moving around too much to be a prisoner.”

“Alright, then fuck this,” Commander Lewis replied as he yanked a large grenade off his vest, pulled the pin and hurled it across the courtyard. “Brace!”

As the team ducked back, heeding his warning, the grenade went off. He had not picked a stun grenade, nor even a small frag grenade. Instead, he’d picked a high-yield explosive that would end the fight before it got worse. Four megajoules of energy tore through the columns, walls and ceiling where their enemy had been, and then they were no more. All that was left was a giant pile of rubble covering a quarter of the courtyard.

Admiral Reyes peaked out, mouth agape. “I thought I said non-lethal,” she stated, shocked at what Commander Lewis had just done. There was no chance anyone within a couple dozen meters of the impact zone had survived the explosion. If those were Starfleet officers… that thought made her heart hurt.

“We can discuss the ethics later,” Commander Lewis replied coldly. The enemy had gone lethal, and it was only a matter of time before one of them landed a hit. “We need to move before more arrive.” Without waiting for her response, Commander Lewis began to move again.

There was no point in debating him now, knew the Admiral. After Nasera, and now this, maybe the Commander was losing it, but for now, they needed to push forward. And so she and the rest of the team began to move again.

As they neared the stairwell to the basement, a phaser shot suddenly leapt over Commander Lewis’ shoulder. Commander Lewis spun his rifle on the target, but all he saw through his sights was a large man in dark camouflage collapsing to the ground unconscious. 

He turned back around to see the shot had come from the theoretical physicist they’d sprung from New Zealand. “Nice reaction time Tom,” Commander Lewis laughed. This was not the same soft-palmed scientist he’d known back in the eighties.

“Thanks,” smiled Dr. Brooks. “A lot has changed since our time on the Enigma.”

Dr. Hall crossed the distance to where the guard had fallen. She reached down and plucked an earpiece from his ear, listening to the chatter as she rejoined the others. “Word is out,” she reported. “They know we’re here.” That was pretty self-evident given what had just transpired in the courtyard. “Patrols on the perimeter doubling back to the villa, and a call went out for reinforcements.”

“Did anyone response?”

Dr. Hall nodded.

“Who?”

“Didn’t identify except to say they’re en route from San Francisco.”

Commander Lewis signed. In this context, San Francisco was almost certainly synonymous with Starfleet. It wasn’t all that surprising though. The equipment, the access, the boldness, even the location itself, all signs pointed to this being an inside job. “Tom, is the dampening field still up?”

“Mhmmm,” confirmed Dr. Brooks.

“That means they’ll be coming by conventional transport,” Commander Lewis pointed out. At least, that was the hope. Until now, their encounters with these operators suggested that they did not have the means to cut through their own dampening field either. “Rel, you and Tom go to the roof on overwatch. Take out the patrols returning from the field and give a callout when you’ve got bogies on the horizon.”

The ensign and the convict nodded and turned to head for the roof.

“And Tom,” Commander Lewis added. “If you get a spare moment, find us the field generator. We’re going to need a way out of here after we get our people.” If they could disable it, they could call the Serenity for a beam out, and hopefully the Serenity would answer the call…

As Dr. Brooks and Ensign Rel made for the roof, Commander Lewis, Admiral Reyes and Dr. Hall headed for the basement.

The ornate wall sconces, colonial art pieces and terracotta stucco of the Spanish-style villa stood in sharp contrast to what lay beneath. “I don’t think we’re going to find oak barrels down here,” Commander Lewis remarked as he swept the dimly-lit duranium corridor with his underbarrel taclight. “This looks more like a military bunker than a vintner’s basement.”

“That’s because it probably is,” Dr. Hall replied flatly. Seemed clear enough to her.

“If we had any doubts before, I’d say this validates your theory Jake,” sighed Admiral Reyes. She had wanted to believe the aged spook and his convict friend were seeing ghosts, but too many signs pointed in the same direction. The grounds were censored from Starfleet orbital imagery. The buildings were filled with Starfleet equipment and guarded by paramilitary operators. And now they’d found a secret facility beneath what should have been a simple California vineyard. What the hell was Starfleet doing here? And why had they abducted Rear Admiral Edir, Mark Ellis, and two of the Polaris’ crew?

Dr. Hall had her tricorder out, working to locate the lifesigns they had identified down here earlier. The thick industrial walls obscured her readings, but eventually she picked out the pair of lifesigns they surmised were most likely Lieutenant Morgan and Chief Shafir. “This way,” Dr. Hall instructed as she gestured to their right. “Two stationary human lifesigns one hundred meters down this…” Her words droned off as she hurriedly slapped the tricorder back in her utility belt, dropped to a knee and raised her rifle. “But first, we got company.”

Far above them on the barrel tiles of the villa’s rooftop, Ensign Rel had taken up a prone position as she sighted in on fields to the south. Through her night vision optic mounted atop her rifle, she searched for the enemy patrol she knew was on approach.

“See anything?” asked Dr. Brooks as he crouched behind a chimney, typing frantically on a PADD. While Ensign Rel hunted for the patrols, Dr. Brooks was trying to triangulate the location of the dampening field’s generator. They’d need to disable it if they wanted to beam out.

“Eyes on,” Ensign Rel confirmed a few seconds later. “Two at two hundred meters. Making fast back towards us.”

“Need a second gun?” Dr. Brooks asked, aware that when you had two bogies, you typically wanted two snipers so both shots came out simultaneously. A single shooter would have to compensate for recoil and get their scope back on target before the second subject found cover.

“No, focused on locating that generator,” Ensign Rel answered flatly. “I’ll manage.” It would have been helpful, but the enemy had reinforcements on the way. Unless Dr. Brooks found the generator, it would be a bloodbath.

Dr. Brooks nodded and returned to his PADD.

Ensign Rel inhaled deeply, calming her mind and setting her thoughts aside. All that mattered was her rifle and the two targets opposite it. Two hundred meters was a long shot for her, and she’d have to follow the first shot with a second in quick succession if she wanted to neutralize both targets.The reticle of her scope settled on her first target. She exhaled and pulled the trigger back smoothly. A single shot lept forth.

The rifle kicked up, pulling the scope away from her targets. Ensign Rel pulled down hard, fighting the recoil, trying to get the scope back on target. Where were her targets? She searched frantically, and then the reticle floated across a figure that was diving towards the dirt. Without waiting for it to settle, she squeezed the trigger again. 

And then there was only silence in the chilly spring night.

“You get them?”

Ensign Rel rushed to get her sights back over where the pair had been. Had she hit them both? She let out a sigh as she saw two bodies sprawled across the dirt. “One patrol down,” she announced proudly as she readjusted to face the west. “Now to find the other.”

Back in the subterranean facility beneath the villa, Admiral Reyes, Commander Lewis and Dr. Hall had just incapacitated the two operators who’d tried to stop their advance. 

As Commander Lewis stepped over the pair, he looked down. One was scrawny and diminutive. The other was a massive hulk of a man. “I recognize this man,” Commander Lewis stated as he studied the larger man. “He was there in Milan.” He leveled his rifle at the incapacitated man and flipped it off of stun. “He murdered two Starfleet officers who tried to intercede on our behalf.”

He deserved to die, thought Lewis to himself, but before he could take the man’s life in bloody retribution, a hand settled atop the barrel of his rifle, pushing it away from its target. 

“Don’t you dare,” Admiral Reyes warned in a stern tone. “He is incapacitated. He will pay for his crimes, but this is not the way.”

“He’s no angel, Admiral,” Commander Lewis growled. This murderer had the scars and calloused hands of a man who’d been in this business a long time. “Those two young Starfleet officers in Milan, I guarantee they were not his first kills.”

“Probably not,” Admiral Reyes nodded. “But if you shoot him in the back of the head, you’re no better.” Commander Lewis looked at her skeptically. How did she figure equivalence here? “And besides, is this piece of shit really worth going away for? He’s just a follower. There are bigger fish out there.” The Admiral’s second point landed far better.

Reluctantly, Commander Lewis stood down.

“I don’t care whether he lives or dies,” Dr. Hall interrupted. “But we need to get on with it.” Time was of the essence. “Let’s go get our people back and get out of here before those reinforcements arrive.” She’d rather not get fried because of some moral argument.

The three proceeded down the corridor until at last they came upon a reinforced duranium door. Commander Lewis tried the keypad but had no success. Why did he think he would? He was no Chief Shafir or Dr. Brooks. But there was another way, one he was far more familiar with. He pulled out a shaped charge and placed it against the hinges of the door.

“What if they’re right on the other side?” asked Admiral Reyes.

“That’s a risk we’ll have to take.”

“Well, just humor me for a moment,” Admiral Reyes asked before she turned towards. She pounded on it with her fist. “Anyone there?”

From the other side of the door, Chief Petty Officer Shafir sat up. That sounded like Admiral Reyes. Was her mind playing tricks on her? “Admiral, is that you?”

It was almost comical, the things one could forget in moments of stress. Commander Lewis breathed a sigh of relief when he heard her voice. He recognized it instantly. “Ayala, is Jace in there with you?”

“He is indeed Jake,” Chief Shafir reported back excitedly. This wasn’t her mind playing tricks!. Somehow, they’d found her and Lieutenant Morgan. But of course they had. She’d learned long ago to never doubt Jake Lewis. He always found a way. “You guys here to break us out?”

“That we are,” Commander Lewis confirmed. “Step as far back from the door as you can. We’re going to blow it.” Ideally without launching the duranium slab straight into the pair.

There was a brief pause, and then her response. “Alright, we’re clear!”

Commander Lewis pressed the detonator and blew the door off the hinges. As he stepped through the threshold, he saw Chief Shafir and Lieutenant Morgan huddled in the far corner of the room. Ayala Shafir had a dark, ghostly look about her, and Jace Morgan looked absolutely broken. “You two look like you’ve seen better days,” Commander Lewis offered.

“Torture will do that to you,” Chief Shafir replied as she stood up and raised her hand to show the stub where once her trigger finger had been. “But enough of my sob story. Where the fuck are we?”

“Just north of San Francisco,” Commander Lewis explained as he unholstered a sidearm and handed it to her. “Can you still shoot?”

“I was born with two trigger fingers,” Chief Shafir nodded. “These assholes only took one.” And she’d trained ambidextrously in case she was ever wounded. She’d be just fine. She took the sidearm, and then by habit, she glanced down to confirm it was in good working order. That’s when she noticed something she hadn’t expected. “Set to stun?”

“These guys are either Starfleet or Starfleet-adjacent,” Commander Lewis explained. “And Allison would prefer it if we don’t kill our own… even if they deserve it.” He frowned as he glared at the Admiral. That hulk of a man in the hall behind them deserved to take a blast to the back of the head for what he’d done.

“I told you Ayala,” said Lieutenant Morgan as Dr. Hall helped him to his feet. “Commander Drake is part of this.”

The room went silent. Had Morgan really just said that the JAG officer from the USS Polaris was involved? Admiral Reyes, Commander Lewis and Dr. Hall all stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate.

“I saw him.”

The trio didn’t look convinced. It didn’t fit.

“He interrogated me.”

“Commander Drake is aboard the Polaris over Nasera,” Admiral Reyes reminded him. She looked into his eyes. She saw a mix of assuredness and desperation. He believed what he was saying, and he wanted them to. But it simply wasn’t possible. He was halfway across the galaxy. “And Commander Drake is incorruptible. He’d never take part in something like this.” Far more likely was that, just as they had taken Chief Shafir’s finger, they’d messed with his mind and distorted his reality.

“Admiral, I swear I saw him with my own…”

Their conversation was cut off by banging against a door down the hall. 

“Hello? Is someone there?” 

The voice was muffled, but Admiral Reyes recognized it instantly. It was Mark Ellis, the elderly husband of retired Rear Admiral Aria Edir. He’d gone missing from Moustiers-Sainte-Marie around the same time as Lieutenant Morgan and Chief Petty Officer Shafir had been abducted.

“I thought you said there were two stationary lifesigns down here?” Admiral Reyes asked as she and Dr. Hall rushed down the corridor towards the other door.

“That’s what it looked like,” Dr. Hall nodded. “But the industrial crap down here is doing a number on our scanners. We’re lucky we even picked up Shafir and Morgan’s lifesigns.”

Admiral Reyes pulled a shaped charge from her vest as she approached the door, assuming she’d have to breach it similar to how they’d breached the other door. But, as she came upon the door, it simply slid open.

“Mark,” smiled Admiral Reyes as she reattached the shaped charge to her vest and extended a hand to help him up. “Wish it was under better circumstances, but it’s good to see you again.”

He took her hand and lifted himself up with labored breath. “Allison, thank god,” the old man sighed with relief. “I… I… ummm… it was horrible… did you… did you find Aria too?”

“Unfortunately not,” Admiral Reyes frowned. “But we’re relieved to have found you. What happened? How’d you…”

But before the Admiral could inquire further about what happened and how he’d wound up here, they were cut off by a call over the combadge. In a mix of panic, shock and fear, Ensign Rel delivered the bad news. 

“We’ve got company. Lots of it.”

From her position on the rooftop, she could see the hell that was headed their way.

“We got company. Lots of it.”

The call was inevitable. They knew reinforcements were coming from San Francisco. Still, Commander Lewis had hoped for a bit more time. They had not even secured the generator for the dampening field yet. Until they did that, they had no way to escape.

“What do you see up there, Elyssia?”

“Four… wait, no… six Type 11 shuttles… incoming fast,” reported Ensign Elyssia Rel from the roof of the spanish-style villa. “They’ll be on us in ninety seconds.”

Starfleet shuttles, thought Commander Lewis to himself. They weren’t even trying to be discreet at this point. “Tom,” Commander Lewis replied, directing his next question to the scientist they’d bailed out of the New Zealand Penal Colony to help with their little soiree in the Russian River Valley. “Tell me you’ve got a beat where that generator is located?”

“I do,” replied Dr. Brooks, his tone uncharacteristically calm, in sharp contrast to the young ensign up on the roof with him. Tom Brooks was a man who’d been through a lot of close calls over the years. “Ground floor, across the courtyard, and down the east side another fifty meters. Sending you coords now.”

Commander Lewis looked over at Lieutenant Morgan, Chief Shafir and Mark Ellis. His two crewmen and the aged husband of a retired rear admiral did not look in good shape. Time was of the essence, and he didn’t need them to slow him down. “Reyes, Hall, help them topside. I’m going for the dampener.” 

Chief Petty Officer Shafir suddenly came to life. “I’m coming with you,” she insisted. It would take more than some psychoactives and a severed finger to break her.

“Alright, let’s go.”

And with that, the two of them were sprinting down the corridors of the subterranean facility. Fifteen seconds later, they were climbing the stairs out of the basement. And another fifteen seconds after that, they were crossing the courtyard towards the rubble from where Lewis had set off the explosion earlier. Unfortunately, that’s where their mad dash ended.

Phase fier left across the courtyard. As a burst exploded just inches from Commander Lewis’ shoulder, he and Chief Shafir dove for cover. They got themselves behind a large piece of rubble and spun to engage the enemy. Four men in dark camouflage had set up across the courtyard, unloading mercilessly on them.

“We don’t have time for this,” Commander Lewis shouted as he returned fire. It was too early for these men to be the reinforcements Ensign Rel had reported. These were just the remaining guards. But if they couldn’t get the dampening field down in the next thirty seconds or so, the reinforcements would be upon them, and then, instead of a handful of enemy shooters, there’d be dozens. This hastily organized rescue operation would quickly come crumbling down.

Next to Commander Lewis, Chief Shafir unloaded barrage after barrage in the direction of the enemy with almost reckless abandon. It wasn’t because she had the timer in her head though. It was because of all they’d put her through. She just wanted to get back at them. She struck one in the chest and smiled, but then had to duck for cover again as the remaining three hurled fire in her direction.

Suddenly, from an off angle, a barrage of fire opened up upon the remaining guards. It cut the three men down where they stood. And then Dr. Brooks stepped over their bodies. 

“Thought you might need some backup,” Dr. Brooks laughed as he glanced at the men he’d just gunned down. “Let’s go!” He rushed past Commander Lewis and Chief Shafir, and the two gave chase as the three continued their dash for the generator.

“Where’s Ensign Rel?” Commander Lewis asked as they closed the distance.

“She’s buying us time with a distraction.”

“We didn’t bring anything large enough to shoot down a shuttle.”

“No, we did not,” agreed Dr. Brooks. He could see something in Commander Lewis’ eye. Was it genuine worry for another? Odd, he thought to himself. He’d never seen such an emotion from the Commander before. Then he remembered the Lyon apartment. There was something going on between Commander Lewis and Ensign Rel. “So we need to hurry.”

The three of them finally reached the generator.

“Any idea how we disable this thing?” Commander Lewis asked. Chief Shafir was the best hacker he’d ever met, and Dr. Brooks was a scientific wizard.

“Not in the next ten seconds,” Chief Shafir shook her head.

“This is more of a make-it-go-boom situation,” Dr. Brooks chuckled. “Your department.”

“That I can do,” Commander Lewis smiled as he pulled an explosive charge out of his tactical pack and calibrated the yield. He went on the larger side – the much larger side in fact – just to be safe.

“Commander, that’s enough to turn this wing into a crater,” warned Chief Shafir.

“Indeed, you might bring the whole building down on us,” agreed Dr. Brooks.

“Better safe than sorry,” Commander Lewis replied frantically. They didn’t have time to do a full analysis of the generator’s metallurgical composition to determine the optimal, least destructive yield. Instead, he just picked a big enough one to ensure there’d be nothing left except a crater. He slapped the explosive onto the generator. “Let’s get out of here. Fast!” 

The trio bolted back out of the room, down the hallway, and across the courtyard to where Admiral Reyes and the others had just emerged from the basement. Ensign Rel had now joined them as well, pushed back from the roof as the shuttles opened fire on her as she’d tried to distract them.

The admiral was looking out a window of the villa as Commander Lewis approached. “I hope we’re all set,” Admiral Reyes said. “Because we’re all out of time.”

Commander Lewis stepped alongside her and looked out the window at the scene developing just beyond the walls. Several shuttles were setting down on the grounds, their flood lights illuminating a small army of operators in tactical gear pouring out of their holds.

“Lewis to USS Serenity,” Commander Lewis said swiftly as he tapped his combadge.

“Serenity here,” came the voice of Lieutenant Commander Eidran who, standing on the bridge of the USS Serenity, was just enjoying the view as he watched ships beginning to assemble for the Frontier Day festivities that were now just hours away.

“On my count, eight to beam out,” Commander Lewis ordered, holding the detonator in his hand. “And if you don’t do it right on my count, we’re probably all dead.” Dr. Brook’s warning was fresh on his mind. The yield he’d selected would probably bring the whole villa down on them if the Serenity’s transporter chief wasn’t fast enough. And if the building stayed standing, those shooters that had just arrived from San Francisco would probably cut them all down.

“Wait… what… what is going on down there Commander?” Lieutenant Commander Eidran stammered, caught totally off-guard by the tone and the urgency. Without explanation, Admiral Reyes had beamed off the ship hours ago, and since then, he’d heard nothing. Now, all of a sudden, they were calling with an emergency beam out request. “We can’t get a lock on your position. Same issue as we had in Milan.”

“You will be able to as soon as we blow this bitch,” Commander Lewis replied.

“I… ummm…” Lieutenant Commander Eidran struggled to reply. What was Commander Lewis talking about? What was going on down there? What had Admiral Reyes and her strange band gotten themselves into? Then he remembered the strange call he’d gotten earlier. “Do you guys know that Starfleet Security called? Something about a prisoner you transferred out of New…”

“Not now Commander!” Admiral Reyes interrupted. “Beam us out on Lewis’ call! That’s an order!” They didn’t have time to debate this over the link.

“Und… understood, sir.”

“Three… two… one…” Lewis counted down, and then he pressed the button. “Now!”

The ground shook as the explosives went off. As the explosives ripped through the generator, the dampening field collapsed. And then, as predicted, the ceiling began to cave in from above. Just before terracotta and stucco fell upon them, the wall sconces and colonial art pieces vanished.

Commander Lewis sighed a breath of relief as he looked around the cold, dark interior of Transporter Room 1 aboard the USS Serenity. They’d gotten their people, and they’d made it out alive. But were they any closer to answering what was going on? He looked over at Chief Shafir, Lieutenant Morgan, and Mark Ellis. They needed to go to sickbay first, but after that, he hoped they had some answers.

“I just got the results back from the tox panel,” Lieutenant Krer Feyir reported as he stepped back into his office with a look of pure shock on his face. “And I… ummm… I’ve never seen anything like it.” His hands were shaking as he handed the PADD to Dr. Hall.

“Torture drugs,” Dr. Hall said flatly without any visible emotion as she read over the results of the bloodwork done on Lieutenant Morgan and Chief Shafir. She knew the drugs well. She’d used some of them herself against the Vorta on Nasera. “Anticholinergics, inhibition reducers, nerve stimulants… psychoactive cocktails meant to inflict pain and disassociate you from reality.” It was curious that Mark Ellis had none in his system though. Maybe he simply wasn’t viewed as a valuable asset? Or maybe he’d just rolled over and given them what they wanted?

The acting Chief Medical Officer of the USS Serenity looked over at Fleet Admiral Reyes, expecting to see shock or anger on her face at the explanation from her counselor, but Reyes just sat there nodding. It was almost as though she expected it. How could one expect such a thing? Or maybe she didn’t really understand what Dr. Hall was saying? “Ma’am, these are the sort of drugs that land you in prison for decades,” Lieutenant Krer explained. “We need to report this to the authorities.”

“We will do nothing of the kind,” Admiral Reyes said flatly, drawing a stunned look from the young doctor. “Get Morgan and Shafir patched up, and see to it that these files are sealed.”

The doctor opened his mouth, as if to protest, but before he could, the door of his office slid open once more. Lieutenant Commander Ekkomas Eidran stepped through with fire in his eyes. “Admiral, forgive my frustration, but what the hell is going on here?”

“Excuse me?” Admiral Reyes asked the Betazoid calmly.

“Based on our scans, there’s a crater where you had us beam you out!” Lieutenant Commander Eidran exclaimed with an accusatory tone. “Meanwhile, you’ve had me telling HQ that you’re off sunbathing in the Mediterranean, which was clearly a straight lie!” Something was very wrong, and he’d lied on their behalf, which would make him culpable for whatever they were up to.

“Yeah, we didn’t get quite the tan we were hoping for…”

“And what about Starfleet Security?” Lieutenant Commander Eidran pushed, not letting her finish her coy little lie. “They’ve been calling all morning about some convict they say you illegally removed from the New Zealand Penal Colony. Is that one of the civvies you’ve got in my sickbay right now?”

“Oh, Dr. Brooks?” asked Admiral Reyes rhetorically. “Yes, he would be the trimmer, more British looking dude in the other room, the one with the scraggly hair. A real scientific prodigy…”

“Enough smoke and mirrors!” Lieutenant Commander Eidran interrupted once more. He was at his wits end. “I have half a brain to just call Starfleet Security back and tell them what I know…” She’d put him and the rest of his staff in a bad spot, and she had to see that. “But I don’t want to do that. We fought the good fight together Admiral, and I want to believe whatever it is you’re up to is on the up-and-up. But you’re not giving me anything to work with!”

For a moment, the Admiral and the Lieutenant Commander locked eyes. Could she trust him? He was young and had his faults, but he’d given her no reason to believe he was tainted. In fact, his youthful naivete almost guaranteed he wasn’t tied up in this. “Alright, you want the truth?” she asked ominously. He nodded hungrily. “We’re hunting some very bad people.”

“Who?”

“We don’t know,” Admiral Reyes conceded. “But we know that they’re Starfleet or Starfleet adjacent, highly connected, and willing to go to any ends, including torture and murder, to stop us.” The tox panel and the details Morgan and Shafir had shared could be described as nothing but torture, and based on what Commander Lewis had shared from Milan, their enemy had also murdered at least two Starfleet officers there in cold blood.

“To stop us from what?”

“We’re not exactly sure.”

“I don’t understand,” Lieutenant Commander Eidran conceded. How could you so brazenly disregard protocol and trample on rights without understanding why? Lieutenant Krer, who’d become a mere fly on the wall for the heated exchange occurring in his office, looked equally confused.

“When the Lost Fleet returned to the Deneb Sector, did you ever stop to ask yourself why HQ offered no response? That only the Fourth Fleet came to the aid of our people?”

“The fog of war can be disorienting,” Lieutenant Commander Eidran offered as he reached for straws. “Maybe they didn’t have good intelligence about what was happening.” It was the only answer that made sense without assuming foul play. And he wasn’t ready to go there.

“That’s a crock of shit,” Admiral Reyes snapped back. “They had it from Rear Admiral Allard, from Admiral Beckett, from Fleet Admiral Ramar, from our frontline commanders, and from the planetary governors they abandoned! They chose to sit on it and do nothing, to leave our people to suffer and die at the hands of the Jem’Hadar. You saw the results over Nasera, heard the reports from Arriana, Janoor and Izar, and faced the enemy in the Ciatar Nebula.”

“There has to be a reason…” Lieutenant Commander Eidran stammered. He was but a young Executive Officer thrust into the big chair when his Commanding Officer was killed just two months ago so he couldn’t pretend to understand the ways of the Admiralty, but he had to at least assume they had their reasons.

“There is no appropriate reason,” Admiral Reyes stated coldly. She wore the same pips as them, and she understood to her core the responsibility that rested on their shoulders. “They vacated their oath. Plain and simple. An old colleague of mine here on Earth, a retired Rear Admiral, was looking into the matter when she went missing. Her husband is that portly older fellow that’s sitting in our sickbay right now.”

“And that’s the real reason we came to Earth?” Lieutenant Commander Eidran asked as a lightbulb came on in his head. He thought back to when she gave the order, the one to ignore the priority one call for assistance from Farpoint Station as the remainder of the Lost Fleet bore down on it. She’d given them a vague explanation then, but now, if what she was saying was true, it made more sense.

“Exactly.”

“The shootout in Milan… the convict from New Zealand… the crater in Healdsburg… they were all part of your investigation?”

“None of that was supposed to happen,” Admiral Reyes explained. “And, if everything was on the up-and-up, it wouldn’t have. But shit’s not on the up-and-up. Someone here on Earth is very committed to preventing us from finding out what they’re up to.”

Lieutenant Commander Eidran just stood there silently. He was trying to process it all. He didn’t know what to say. The idea of a conspiracy, here at home in the halls of the institution he held in such high regard, was a lot to take in.

The door slid open once more, and Commander Lewis stepped through.

“Any word?” Admiral Reyes asked hopefully. Morgan couldn’t have been right, could he?

“Yep, I spoke with Gérard,” Commander Lewis replied, referencing Captain Devreux, their Executive Officer who’d stayed behind at Nasera with the USS Polaris. “He confirmed that Drake is still aboard the Polaris. He saw him personally just this morning.” The spook looked almost disappointed with the news he had to share. He hated Commander Drake, their JAG officer, and he would have loved it if the shark was actually tied up in this whole conspiracy. In fact, it had almost fit. Drake had worked very hard to get in the way of their work.

“Well, that is good news at least,” Admiral Reyes sighed with relief. As much as Commander Lewis could not stand Commander Drake, she knew Drake as an incorruptible prosecutor, and the insinuation that he could have been involved had shaken even her a bit. “Although that does lend to the question of why Lieutenant Morgan was so sure he was interrogated by Drake.”

“The mind can do funny things when it’s all warped with this stuff,” Dr. Hall replied as she waved the PADD around. “With how aggressively Commander Drake has come at Lieutenant Morgan since Nasera, a transposition of Drake as his interrogator is not unsurprising given the reality distortions Morgan would have been subjected to from these drugs.”

“Allison, maybe you should do something about that,” Commander Lewis scowled at the Admiral. She had the authority. Why wouldn’t she use it? “Imagine if, instead of thinking he was opposite Drake, Morgan could have identified who it was that was actually interrogating him? Drake’s witch hunt is doing real world damage at this point.”

Admiral Reyes disregarded the statement and turned to Dr. Hall. She knew Lewis was just being opportunistic. “Dr. Hall, once Lieutenant Krer has their bloodstreams cleaned up, please spend some time with Lieutenant Morgan and Chief Shafir before you clear them for duty again.”

“Absolutely,” Dr. Hall agreed.

“And Commanders,” Admiral Reyes added, turning to Commander Lewis and Lieutenant Commander Eidran. “I want all Lieutenant Morgan, Chief Shafir and Mark Ellis moved to more discreet accommodations, and a guard posted with each of them. While I’d like to believe we can trust the crew, with Frontier Day just hours away, we’ve got visitors aboard. Best no one knows where they are. I’d rather not lose them again before we get to the bottom of this.”

The insinuation that their own ship might not be secure was lost on no one.

“Did we really have to turn the bridge into a viewing area?” Commander Jake Lewis asked frustratedly as he glared at the throng of officers assembled on the bridge. This was the heart of a warship, not a place for lookie loos to watch flybys and fireworks.

“Orders straight from Command,” replied Lieutenant Commander Ekkomas Eidran. “If it’s got a view, it’s to be made available for people to enjoy the festivities.” The young Betazoid officer was beyond excited, a feeling mirrored by the emotions he could feel emanating from the crew. Frontier Day was to be the celebration of the century, and they had a front row seat.

Standing between the pair, Fleet Admiral Allison Reyes said nothing, but the look on her face said everything. She couldn’t find it in herself to celebrate Starfleet today. Not after what had just transpired. The abductions, the torture, and the murders, all signs pointed to Starfleet. She’d only come to the bridge because it was expected of her, and because she didn’t have anywhere better to be since the investigation was at a dead end.

“Incoming communication from Fleet Command,” reported the comms officer right on schedule.

“Broadcast ship-wide,” ordered Lieutenant Commander Eidran as he beamed ear-to-ear. 

The chatter died down as the voice of Fleet Admiral Elizabeth Shelby filled the bridge, the observation deck, the corridors, and everything in-between. 

“Two hundred and fifty years ago today, the Enterprise NX-01, the first warp 5 capable vessel to be constructed by human hands, made its maiden voyage…” 

The Commander-in-Chief of Starfleet spoke in a proud, distinguished tone, but standing there listening from the bridge of the USS Serenity, Admiral Reyes was unconvinced. Was Elizabeth involved in what they’d stumbled upon? With the cold shoulder she’d gotten at HQ, and the boldness of their mysterious enemy, it was hard to believe her hands were clean. Something of this magnitude would have required high level support. Besides, she reminded herself, the fish typically rotted from the head.

“With it, a crew of 83 souls embarked on a journey, one of bravery, perseverance and sacrifice that would lead to the birth of what we know today as Starfleet…” 

As the speech continued, a lieutenant in teal stepped off the turbolift and approached the command island. Her arrival went unnoticed by those who stood transfixed, staring out at the majestic sight before them, but Admiral Reyes and Commander Lewis turned at once, hoping for news. In this moment, they cared far more for what their counselor had to say than the CinC.

“That private frequency you asked me to keep an eye on,” Dr. Hall said quietly so only Reyes and Lewis could hear. “You’ve got an incoming call. Not sure I understand how, but it’s her.” She didn’t so much as glance at the viewer. Such a performance neither impressed nor interested her.

“Our retired friend?” Admiral Reyes asked with a hint of surprise in her voice. It had been a hail mary to monitor their old frequency, but Admiral Reyes had figured that, if by some chance her old friend resurfaced, she might try that frequency to stay off the radar.

Dr. Hall simply nodded, and without another word, the three of them turned for the Admiral’s Ready Room. Lieutenant Commander Eidran and the rest of the officers on the bridge were far too enamored by speech and spectacle to take any notice of their departure.

“Computer, seal the Ready Room,” Admiral Reyes ordered once they were safely in her office. She approached the wall-mounted viewscreen, and after the the computer gave the appropriate acknowledgement that the room had been sealed, she activated the terminal to accept the call.

“Allison, it’s so good to see your face,” smiled an elderly Trill woman from the other side of the link. But her smile wasn’t one of happiness. It was one of relief. And beneath that smile, there was pain and exhaustion. “I… I… it’s been… it’s been an ordeal.” She looked like hell.

“I am so sorry,” Allison Reyes replied with deep sincerity. “If I’d known…”

Aria Edir raised her hand to stop her old friend. “Please Allison,” the retired Rear Admiral said. “You couldn’t have known. None of us could have. But this situation, it runs deep… Far too deep to put over a link, even one as secure as this one.” Edir glanced around nervously as if someone might be watching. “We need to meet.”

Commander Lewis furled his brow. He didn’t like that idea one bit. Aria Edir had been missing for weeks, and now suddenly here she was out of the blue. “If you don’t mind Admiral Edir,” Commander Lewis said, jumping in before Admiral Reyes could respond. “How exactly did you escape?” His tone was mildly accusatory.

The retired Rear Admiral seemed not the least bit surprised or annoyed by Lewis’ question. She understood where he was coming from. If she was in his shoes, she would have been just as suspicious. “I killed them,” the aged Trill woman replied coldly. There was a darkness in her eyes. “They made a mistake, and they died for it. I killed each and every one of those bastards, and then I got myself out of there.”

The Commander looked at her suspiciously. It seemed too good to be true. Aria Edir was nearly seventy and hardly looked like a killer. How had she engendered her escape? Their enemies were not novices. He’d faced them firsthand in Milan and outside of Healdsburg. These were stone cold operators, with military grade training and equipment, who’d only been bested by surprise, daring and a little luck.

Admiral Reyes could see the doubt on Commander Lewis’ face, but she did not share his doubts. She knew Rear Admiral Edir’s warrior spirit. She’d seen her in her prime, and that spirit never fully left you. “Aria was duking it out with the Cardassians while you were in grade school,” Admiral Reyes assured Commander Lewis. “And she may have more Jem’Hadar scalps under her belt than you do.”

Commander Lewis frowned, but he could tell Admiral Reyes’ mind was made up. He just hoped she wasn’t letting past experiences taint her judgment.

“Where are you now Aria?” Admiral Reyes asked.

“I’m on Sol Station.”

“You’re what?” Admiral Reyes choked on her words, caught completely off guard. That was certainly not the answer she’d expected.If she were in Edir’s shoes, she would have found a quiet little hole to hide in. Not gone straight into the belly of the beast. “Why?”

“Not for Frontier Day, I assure you of that,” Aria Edir replied grimly. “When I escaped from those assholes, I found myself in the bowels of Sol Station in a cordoned off maintenance section. Can you believe that? They were holding me on Sol Station!”

Shock was the only way to describe the looks on the faces of the three officers standing in the Serenity’s Ready Room. They’d extracted Lieutenant Morgan, Chief Shafir and Aria’s husband from a villa north of San Francisco that had the trappings of a black site, but the idea that Rear Admiral Edir was being held on Starfleet’s premier spacestation was something different altogether. It meant this was absolutely a Starfleet operation.

Admiral Reyes opened her mouth as if to inquire further, but Aria Edir raised her hand once more. “No more over the link,” Edir insisted. “I’ll send secure coordinates.”

A chirp acknowledged that the coordinates had been received. Admiral Reyes glanced at them. They were up near the command deck on the main promenade. A public space where shenanigans would be hard to pull off. 

“See you soon,” Admiral Reyes said and then she cut the link. She looked over at Commander Lewis, who was already opening his mouth to protest. But she wasn’t having any of it. She felt guilt over putting her old friend in this place to begin with, and she wanted answers. “I’m going over there Jake. It’s not up for debate.”

“What if she’s being forced to say these things to entrap you?”

“Rear Admiral Edir would die before doing that.”

“If you insist on going, then we’re coming with you,” Commander Lewis said firmly. The Admiral could agree to those terms. It was a reasonable  given the situation. But then Lewis’ combadge chirped. He tapped it. “Lewis here.”

“Commander, we’ve got a problem,” came the voice of Ensign Rel over the link. The young member of the Hazard Team sounded completely panicked. ”I just went to check on Mr. Ellis, and when he didn’t answer, I let myself into his quarters. His security team is dead, and he’s missing.”

How? They’d taken every precaution. No one besides his team, plus Lieutenant Commander Eidran, Lieutenant Krer, and a half dozen handpicked security guards, even knew that Aria Edir’s husband was aboard, let alone where they’d hidden him. “What about Morgan and Shafir?” asked Commander Lewis, his mind going straight to their teammates they’d also just rescued.

“They’re fine. Dr. Brooks and I went to check on them immediately. We’re with them now in Mr. Ellis’ quarters, trying to pick them apart for clues.”

Commander Lewis’ mind was racing, and he was split on what to do. He didn’t want to leave the Admiral unprotected when she went over to Sol Station, but they now knew agents of their enemy were on board. “Allison, I don’t suppose I can convince you to wait to go over to Sol Station?”

“Absolutely not,” Admiral Reyes replied firmly. “Edir may know what the hell is going on.” She cold see the worry on his face. “I can handle myself, Jake,” she assured him. “And Dr. Hall can watch my back. You’ve got a traitor to hunt.”

He didn’t like it, but there wasn’t a better option.

“A quarter millennium after the NX-01 took that first vital step…”

Focused rage and zealous determination. Those emotions didn’t belong here. Not now. Not during this happy celebration. But they were here, screaming out over the din of awe and pride emanating from those who’d gathered on the bridge to enjoy Frontier Day.

“We gather on Frontier Day to take another…”

The emotions were frenzied and overwhelming. The Betazoid looked around. 

Where were they coming from? 

The door to the Admiral’s Ready Room opened, and Commander Lewis stepped out. Or stormed out. That was a better description. The aged spook almost barreled over a pair of officers as he darted for the turbolift. 

What was going on?

Lieutenant Commander Eidran wasn’t sure, but he knew something was wrong, so he stepped off the command island and hurried to catch up to the spook. He reached the turbolift just before the doors shut.

“Don’t you have a celebration to watch?” asked Commander Lewis gruffly. The young officer had made clear he bought into the Federation propaganda machine that was this Frontier Day bullshit, even after Lewis and Reyes had shared with him what was going on.

“It’s cool and all,” replied Lieutenant Commander Eidran as the doors shut and the turbolift began to move. “But I gather from the emotion screaming off you that something is wrong. Did you guys learn something new?”

“You could say that,” nodded Commander Lewis, and then he tapped his combadge. “Computer, implement silent lockdown protocols. Authorization Lewis Omega Six Six Nine.”

The computer chirped to acknowledge as it dispatched instructions to transporter chiefs and shuttlebay controllers across the USS Serenity. Although none would expect such an order at this particular moment as the USS Serenity sat safely over Earth, they practiced such lockdowns, and they knew the protocols. Any debarkation request would be delayed by the excuse of ongoing maintenance until command authorization was received. If the enemy was still onboard, they were now stuck here.

“Are you sure about that? We’ve got a lot of guests onboard,” Lieutenant Commander Eidran warned. “At some point, they’re going to start asking questions.” He had questions himself. The aggressive energy coming off Commander Lewis was scary. It was not the sort of emotion the Betazoid was used to feeling from a Starfleet officer on a Starfleet vessel.

“Frankly, I don’t give a fuck,” Commander Lewis replied aggressively. “The enemy is here. On our ship.” His hand rested on his sidearm and fire raged in his eyes. He looked ready to hunt. He hated traitors. The enemy would only be getting off this ship in handcuffs or a bodybag.

“How do you know?” asked Lieutenant Commander Eidran curiously.

“Because Mister Ellis is gone,” replied Commander Lewis as the turbolift came to a stop. “And because two of your guys are dead on the deck in his quarters.” Commander Lewis stepped briskly out of the turbolift without another word.

Lieutenant Commander Eidran stood there for a moment with his mouth agape and his head spinning. His guys were dead? How? Over Earth… on Frontier Day… that didn’t make sense. He thought Admiral Reyes and Commander Lewis were just telling ghost stories. Had they actually uncovered something? Was there really a conspiracy at work in the heart of the Federation? That thought was chilling.

After a couple deep breaths, the Lieutenant Commander got his wits back about him. He was an officer. A senior officer at present, and a security officer in a former life. If something was truly going on, he could help. It was his duty to help. He rushed down the corridor and caught up to Commander Lewis just as they reached the quarters where they’d temporarily housed the old man they’d brought back from Healdsburg.

“Well, this is certainly a scene,” Commander Lewis said as stepped into the room. Lieutenant Morgan and Ensign Rel stood on either side of the room with phaser rifles, a strange sight for a ship in the midst of Frontier Day, but they’d clearly taken security upon themselves given that anyone else might be compromised. Between them, Dr. Brooks and Chief Shafir were studying the two murdered security officers. One lay against a blood-spattered wall, and the other lay between two pieces of a shattered table.

Ensign Rel approached Commander Lewis and unslung a second phaser rifle she had over her shoulder. “In case someone comes back to finish the job,” she smiled as she handed him the rifle. “We’ve obviously not alerted security yet.”

“Yeah, let’s keep it within the family for now,” agreed Commander Lewis as he slung the phaser rifle over his shoulder. He walked over Dr. Brooks and the dead officer against the wall. “Do we have a cause of death for either of these guys yet?”

“Cranial shatter on this one,” Dr. Brooks said as he stood up and gestured at the wall. “Ensign Duval’s parietal hit the wall with a force of over thirty kilonewtons.”

Commander Lewis looked at the scientist curiously. That was roughly the force a baseball bat struck a fastball in a professional baseball game. But one could not swing a wall at a person. That meant the officer had been thrown at the wall with an inhuman amount of force.

“And Chief Sorenson,” Dr. Brooks gestured across the room at the second officer. “He died by a complete cervical separation. But if his brainstem hadn’t been divorced from his spinal column, it would have been a race between organ damage and internal bleeding. His body was used to break the table in half.”

“This makes a Klingon bar fight look like a pillow fight,” Commander Lewis remarked as he took it all in. He’d expected a shootout, not a brawl, but a shootout would have triggered the internal sensors, while a physical brawl would not have.  “Makes you wonder who – or what – did this to them. Any ideas?” Even Nausicaans and Klingons didn’t have the appropriate level of strength.

“Not so far,” Dr. Brooks frowned. “No biological traces of anyone or anything in the room except for Ensign Duval, Chief Sorenson, and Mister Ellis.”

“And what about Mister Ellis? Anything on him at all?” Commander Lewis asked as he glanced over at his intelligence officer. Chief Shafir had snuck into and out of Federation facilities more than anyone, and she’d know exactly what to look for.

“Nothing whatsoever,” replied Chief Shafir. “Nothing on biosensors or debarkation logs, and no sign of tampering with our systems. Ran a full diagnostic. But that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s still onboard.” From their soiree to Healdsburg, she was well aware that their enemy had access to the most advanced technology Starfleet had to offer, as well as command codes and other Fleet-level access that might have allowed them to escape without a trace.

Commander Lewis was about to respond when his combadge beeped.

“Lewis, go.”

“Transporter Room 2 here sir,” came curt, professional voice of a transporter chief over the link. “I understand we are on protocols, but I’ve got someone down here requesting to beam over to Sol Station.”

“Identification?” asked Commander Lewis. Even though they had a good number of guests aboard, most of them were Starfleet officers, and they were here for the festivities. It didn’t fit that someone would be jumping ship in the middle of the ceremony.

“A civilian by the name of Mark Ellis.”

The man who Ensign Duval and Chief Sorenson had been protecting here. “Is he with anyone?” asked Commander Lewis, his first thought going to the possibility that Mr. Ellis had been taken hostage.

“No, he’s alone.”

Well, that meant not a hostage situation. “Stand by,” Commander Lewis requested before muting the link. He looked at the two bodies on the deck and then at his people. “Anyone want to give me a theory as to why Mark’s protective detail is lying here dead, and we can’t find him on biosensors, but he’s standing there in Transporter Room 2 asking for a beamout?”

“Not one that looks good for him, boss,” Chief Shafir chuckled. “If he was on the run, wouldn’t he call us for help rather than strolling onto a transporter pad?” She stopped to consider hypotheticals. “Maybe someone’s got something on him?”

“Could be,” nodded Dr. Brooks as he gestured at the dead security officers. “But, even if that were the case, how would a seventy year old man muster the strength to do this? Someone else would have had to do this.”

“I think it’s time we get some answers,” Commander Lewis smiled. The one mistake Mr. Ellis had made, if he was truly trying to run, was simply going down to the transporter room for a beam out. All he could assume was maybe that Mr. Ellis had figured they wouldn’t have so quickly come upon the crime scene. He unmuted his combadge. “Transporter Room 2, you are cleared to transport Mister Ellis, but instead of Sol Station, beam him straight to the brig.”

“Sir?” the transporter chief asked to clarify. The civilian standing in Transporter Room 2 was an old man. One did not typically beam the elderly straight into the brig without warning them.

“Mister Ellis is a person of interest,” Commander Lewis replied firmly. “Either beam him to the brig or we come up there and make a mess of your transporter room.”

“Understood sir. Transporter Room 2 out.”

“Rel, Eidran, with me,” Commander Lewis ordered as he headed for the door with his phaser rifle over his shoulder. “We’re going to have a conversation with Mister Ellis.” He looked back at the rest of his team. “Doc, Chief, see if you can figure out any more about what happened here. And Morgan, keep an eye on them.”

Commander Lewis, Lieutenant Commander Eidran and Ensign Rel left the room and headed for the brig. When they arrived, they were met up front by a brig officer.

“Good afternoon sirs,” the brig officer greeted. “If you don’t mind me asking, who is the gentleman that Transporter Room 2 just beamed down here?”

“Oh, just an Admiral’s husband,” laughed Commander Lewis without elaborating further. 

 An Admiral’s husband? The brig officer looked like he was about to vomit as the trio walked past him nonchalantly. Ensign Rel almost felt bad for the young officer. She appreciated Commander Lewis’ humor, but it could do a number on those that didn’t know him.

Mark Ellis looked up at Commander Lewis as they stepped into the cell block. “Commander, what is going on? Why am I here? I was just trying to beam over to Sol Station…”

“Yes, you were,” Commander Lewis interrupted. “But, you see, there’s just one problem. Or two really. Ensign Duval and Chief Sorenson are dead.” 

Commander Lewis’ eyes narrowed on the old man, but Mark Ellis’ blank expression suggested he didn’t recognize the names.

“Your guards,” Commander Lewis continued. “The guys that were there to protect you. They’re dead. And here you are without a single scratch. Want to explain that to me?”

Mark Ellis didn’t flinch. He just continued to stare blankly at the Commander.

Standing there, Lieutenant Commander Eidran quieted his mind, silencing the background noise of those around him as he focused on the old man in the cell. What was he thinking? Nothing. What was he feeling? Nothing. Wait, nothing? Actually nothing? That wasn’t right. 

Lieutenant Commander Eidran looked over at Commander Lewis, who was locked in a staring contest with the old man. “Commander, can I speak with you for a moment?”

Commander Lewis pulled his gaze away, and he followed the Betazoid out of the cell block into an adjoining office. “What is it?” he asked, once he, Ensign Rel and Lieutenant Commander Eidran were alone.

“Something is wrong,” Lieutenant Commander Eidran explained. “As a Betazoid, I’m used to feeling emotions like the din of chatter in a crowded room. And when someone gets stressed, those emotions grow stronger, like when you stormed out of Reyes’ office a short while ago.”

“Yes, I’m aware of how your people’s telepathy works,” Commander Lewis nodded dismissively. “Where are you going with this?”

“Well, you see, there’s something different here,” Eidran explained. “I’m getting nothing from Mister Ellis. Like nothing at all. I don’t feel a thing. No thoughts. No emotions.”

“Nothing? You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I can feel your rage,” Lieutenant Commander Eidran replied, drawing a look from the spook. “And Ensign Rel’s desire to be accepted by you.” Commander Lewis looked at the young Ensign amusedly, and Rel looked away with embarrassment. “And the brig officer’s confusion about the old man in his custody. But when I focus on Mister Ellis, there’s nothing. It’s like there’s a… a…” His voice tapered off as he hunted for the words.

“A null space devoid of anything whatsoever,” Commander Lewis filled in the gap. He hadn’t invented the description though. He’d borrowed it from a colleague from the seventies.

“Yeah, that’s a good way to put it.”

“Fuck.”

“What’s going on?” asked Ensign Rel. She wasn’t following any more than Lieutenant Commander Eidran was.

“That’s not Rear Admiral Edir’s husband in there. It’s a Changeling,” Commander Lewis responded firmly. It was like a bomb going off in the room. They thought they were done with the gooey bastards after the battles and bloodshed of the Lost Fleet crisis in the Deneb Sector, but now there was a Changeling in their brig.

“How do you know?” Lieutenant Commander Eidran stammered, caught completely off guard.

“Because we used your kind as bloodhounds during the war,” Commander Lewis replied in a tone that made the Betazoid shiver. “Changelings don’t give off regular thoughts and emotions.” Eidran and Rel were both still looking at him skeptically. “It fits. All of it. An inhuman level of force in Ellis’ quarters. The lack of biosigns if he was trying to go unnoticed. For that matter, even  the way Mark just sort of turned up when we raided the villa when we hadn’t detected his lifesigns prior… and hell, even Lieutenant Morgan’s insistence it was Commander Drake that interrogated him in Healdsburg.” 

The dots connected, and the implications were terrifying. How deep did this go?

“Ensign Rel, we need to get to Admiral Reyes,” Commander Lewis said as he gestured for his colleague to follow. He had been suspicious of Rear Admiral Edir when she’d called, but now he was all but certain that Admiral Reyes and Dr. Hall were walking into a trap. “Lieutenant Commander Eidran, while we’re gone, see what you can learn from our friend in holding.”

“Fleet Formation, synchronistic technology that allows every ship in Starfleet to operate as one, an impenetrable armada, unity and defense…”

Walking down the promenade, Admiral Reyes could not help but scoff at Shelby’s words as they echoed across the PA. Unity and defense? Bullshit. The Fourth Fleet stood alone in the Deneb Sector against the Lost Fleet.

“…the ultimate safeguard in case of the unthinkable fleet-wide incapacitation…”

No, thought Admiral Reyes. Incompetence at the highest levels had already incapacitated the Fleet. And if it wasn’t incompetence, then it was something worse. Treason maybe? That’s why she’d brought the Serenity to Earth. It’s why they’d raided the Fleet News Network in Milan and blown up the black side in Healdsburg. And it’s why she’d come to Sol Station.

Although she and Dr. Hall wore no outward weapons, the admiral could feel the reassuring weight of the Type I phaser concealed against her ankle. She hoped she was just being overly cautious. The enemy couldn’t move against her here, right? This was the central promenade of Sol Station, a busy place even on a quiet day. Still, she couldn’t shake a nervous feeling that they might be walking into a trap. Their enemy had already shown they had no qualms operating right under the nose of Starfleet.

Up ahead, she spied an elderly Trill woman sitting alone at a table in front of a cafe. The admiral breathed a sigh of relief. It was Aria Edir, in the flesh. By some miracle, there she sat, having escaped whatever hell she’d been put through since her disappearance weeks ago.

“Allison, it’s so good to see you,” Aria Edir smiled as the pair approached. “I… it’s been a lot.” She gestured for them to sit. Admiral Reyes obliged, but Dr. Hall stayed standing. The counselor’s eyes darted around, scanning for threats, but nothing stood out. Just a regular mix of Starfleet officers and civilians milling about the promenade and sitting at tables enjoying fresh coffee and pastries.

“We’ll have time to talk about what you went through later,” Admiral Reyes said, cutting to the chase. “But right now, time is of the essence. What did you learn?”

“I learned you will never give up,” Aria Edir replied, and it was at that moment they realized something was wrong. The look on the retired Rear Admiral’s face was almost menacing, and suddenly, there was a flurry of movement all around them. “Unless you are in the brig.”

A dozen officers and civilians that had just been milling about the promenade were suddenly all moving towards them, drawing phasers concealed within their clothing and leveling them at the pair. 

Dr. Hall went for her phaser, but a pair of officers leapt at her and took her to the ground. Admiral Reyes didn’t even bother resisting. The numbers were too overwhelming. They’d been had.

“This system will protect our crews and our continued exploration of what still remains, our final frontier…”

In the cell block of the USS Serenity, one of the few places removed from the Fleet-wide address, Lieutenant Commander Eidran stood there looking at the old man in their brig. Or rather a Changeling that looked like the old man. That fact still stunned him.

“I have no idea what happened to the guards,” the old man pleaded, still trying to keep up the ruse. “I really don’t. My wife called me from Sol Station. She’s been missing for weeks. I couldn’t ignore that. I had to go find her… But I promise you that your guys were still alive when I left.”

“Don’t waste my time,” Lieutenant Commander Eidran replied as he shook his head. “My guys never would have let you out of their sights. They were your protective detail. They knew their duty. You killed them.”

“I would never! I’m the husband of a Rear Admi…”

“That’s a crock of shit,” Lieutenant Commander Eidran snapped back. He was done playing at this ruse. Time to confront it for what it was. “I know your kind. You came to my world when I was five, and you killed my people by the thousands. I thought we were done with you, with your sorry scourge, but then you came again, earlier this year, and you did it again. I have half a mind to end you right now.”

Suddenly, Mark Ellis’ hunched shoulders and slow movements were gone. The Changeling gave up all semblance of his facade, rushing towards the edge of the forcefield but stopping just short as it shimmered. “But you’re curious,” he snarled like a feral dog. He still looked like Mark Ellis, but he neither sounded, nor moved, like him any more. “You want to know what I’m doing here.”

“Yes, I do,” Lieutenant Commander Eidran replied. “And I assure you, it’s the only reason you’re still alive.” Now that the truth was before him, he suddenly felt a desire for retribution. For what they’d done to his homeworld in the seventies. And for how they’d killed his mentor just months ago. Suddenly, he started to understand Commander Lewis. “So tell me, why are you here?”

“To see to your end.”

“That’s going to be hard to do from our brig,” Lieutenant Commander Eidran chuckled, but it was short lived as a lightbulb flicked on in his head. What if this Changeling wasn’t the only one?

“Ah, you see it now, don’t you?” the Changeling smiled, enjoying the sight of that realization washing across his enemy’s face. “I am but a cog in the machine. We are everywhere.”

Those words sent a chill down Lieutenant Commander Eidran’s spine. Admiral Reyes and Commander Lewis had been right. There was more going on. He needed to get in touch with them. He tapped his combadge.

“Eidran to Reyes.”

No response.

“Eidran to Lewis.”

Still no response.

The Changeling just stood there smiling. Any minute now, it would all be over. 

“I don’t understand,” Admiral Reyes said as she stared at her old friend. The phasers trained on her barely mattered in comparison to the betrayal before her. Aria Edir had fought and bled on the line for decades. Even in retirement, her convictions had never wavered. How had it come to this? How had they gotten to her? How had they convinced her to give up her oath?

“No, I don’t figure you would,” the retired read admiral replied bluntly as she looked down at the timepiece on her arm. “But soon you will.”

“Our next demonstration is the summation of decades of technological advances…”

It seemed almost surreal, the juxtaposition between the scene on the Sol Station promenade and the celebration transpiring beyond the station’s walls.

“So what comes next?” Admiral Reyes asked.

But before Rear Admiral Edir could reply, Admiral Reyes heard the sound of something metallic landing on the deck nearby. She looked over and caught sight of a small metallic cylinder right before it went off. She smiled, realizing what was about to happen.

Bang.

The flashbang went off, and then there was chaos. Over the ringing in her ears, Admiral Reyes could hear the sound of phaser fire. As her retinas recovered from the flash, she could see the officers around her falling. In the distance, she could just barely make out two operators in tactical gear advancing down the promenade as they unloaded a rapid, precise barrage in her direction. 

But Admiral Reyes and Dr. Hall weren’t their target. The security officers that apprehended them were, and a half dozen were dropped before they even realized what was happening. The only mercy Commander Lewis and Ensign Rel showed was that they’d set their rifles to stun.

As the security officers faltered and fell, one of the men who’d been restraining Dr. Hall managed to get a shot off. Unfortunately for him, the afterimage burned onto his photoreceptors caused it to go way wide, and in letting go of Dr. Hall, he’d given her the opportunity she needed. Before he could get another shot off, she was on top of him, wrestling his phaser from him. Dr. Hall got control of the phaser, pressing it against his sternum. She didn’t hesitate. She pulled the trigger and watched the life leave his eyes as he crumpled to the ground.

Really? Set to kill? Served him right, she thought to herself. That was not appropriate for being on the central promenade of Starfleet’s greatest starbase. She flipped it to stun and turned it upon those who had not yet been dropped by Lewis and Rel.

The brawl was over as swiftly as it began, a dozen security officers lying motionless on the ground, one dead and the rest unconscious. Everyone turned towards the table, where Admiral Reyes had drawn her phaser from its ankle holster and leveled it on her old friend.

“What happened to you Aria?” Admiral Reyes demanded in a voice that carried equal parts fury and regret. “Your duty! Your oath!”

Aria Edir just sat their motionless.

“The Rear Admiral Edir I knew would have died before giving those up!”

Aria Edir said nothing.

“What the hell is going on?” Admiral Reyes screamed angrily. Even in the most desperate of battles, Admiral Reyes had always maintained her cool, but this was personal, a betrayal of the highest order. “I’ve had enough of this shit! Tell me now!”

But still Aria Edir said nothing.

“She’s not going to answer your questions because she’s not Rear Admiral Edir,” Commander Lewis explained as he stepped alongside his old friend. “She’s a Changeling.” He raised his rifle at her and flipped it from stun to its highest power setting. “Isn’t that right?”

“You’re too late,” Aria Edir smiled sadistically as she turned to flee. Commander Lewis was ready for it though. He knew how fast a Changeling could move, and without hesitation, he squeezed the trigger instantly. The Changeling began to lose its form as the high energy phaser blast disintegrated the creature.

For a moment, the everyone just stood there, stunned at the abrupt turn of events as Fleet Admiral Shelby’s voice continued to speak over the PA. But then suddenly, a new voice cut in, interrupting the Commander-in-Chief in the middle of her speech.

“This is Admiral Jean-Luc Picard. I come to you with a warning. Changeling infiltration of Starfleet…”

Admiral Reyes breathed a sigh of relief as she heard Jean-Luc’s voice. They weren’t crazy, and they weren’t alone. Picard had figured it out too. If Picard knew too, maybe there was still hope.

“…has made us vulnerable to our greatest enemy, the Borg.” 

Admiral Reyes glanced over at Commander Lewis. Sure, there was a conspiracy amok, and it smelled rich of Dominion machinations, but the Borg? How were they involved?

They didn’t have to wait for an answer though as an impossibly powerful signal overtook every carrier wave in the system, a loud screech ripping across the PA causing everyone to flinch as the lights flickered and distortions rippled across every terminal on the promenade.

“What the hell was that?” asked Commander Lewis as he looked around. The terminals that littered the promenade had taken on an eerie green hue, and then his gaze came to rest on Elyssia Rel. Her beautiful eyes had turned her black, and her fair skin now had black veins running across it. She looked possessed. “Elyssia?”

For a moment, Ensign Rel just stared blankly past him, but then she spoke, and as she did, so too did a hundred thousand other young souls across the system: “We… are the Borg.”

Ensign Rel raised her rifle and leveled it on Commander Lewis, and for the first time in memory, rather than responding with force, he just froze. But for as fast as Ensign Rel moved, Dr. Hall moved faster. The beam of her phaser lanced out, striking the young Trill flight controller in the center of her chest before she could fire on them.

Ensign Rel crumpled to the deck.

The air left Commander Lewis lungs. Was she… had Dr. Hall just killed Elyssia? 

“Relax Commander,” Dr. Hall assured him as she walked over to where Ensign Rel lay motionless. “It was set to stun.” She looked at the young woman. What had happened to her? How had she been turned… Borg?

“Eliminate all unassimilated.”

The statement echoed through the cavernous interior of Sol Station, repeated in perfect synchrony by dozens of officers as they advanced down the promenade. A polaron burst exploded overhead. And then another. 

Dr. Hall ripped the phaser rifle out of Ensign Rel’s limp grasp, a far more suitable weapon than the one she’d wrestled from the security officer, and she returned fire. Alongside her, Commander Lewis and Admiral Reyes did the same.

“We need to move!” Dr. Hall shouted over the phaser fire. The numbers weren’t in their favor.

Commander Lewis looked down at Ensign Rel. He wasn’t ready to leave her behind. He’d just started to build something with her.

“Now!” Dr. Hall insisted.

“She’s right, Jake,” Admiral Reyes said between volleys. “If we don’t go now, we’ll be overrun.”

He knew they were right. No matter how many they dropped, more would keep coming. And so, with one last regretful look back at the young Trill flight controller lying there on the deck, he turned and fled. 

Hell had come to Sol Station. Firefights waged across a thousand decks as officers and crew turned their weapons upon friends and colleagues. Their minds were not their own, but that made their weapons no less lethal.

Retreating from the main promenade, the admiral, the spook and the counselor found themselves in a fight for their lives. Commander Lewis dropped to a knee and unloaded on three young officers before them, while Dr. Hall and Admiral Reyes dueled a rainbow of red, yellow and teal behind them. The place had gone completely mad.

“What has gotten into them?” Commander Lewis asked as he felled the last of the petty officers that obstructed their way. “You don’t just become Borg…”

“It would appear you do,” Dr. Hall observed as they rushed away from the advancing officers, stepping over the incapacitated body of a young man Commander Lewis had dropped. He couldn’t have been two years out of the Academy. “The Borg seem to have developed a way to assimilate from afar.”

“Why aren’t we affected?” Admiral Reyes asked.

“I can’t even offer a conjecture at this point,” Dr. Hall admitted. “Frankly, none of this makes sense.” One moment, they were squaring off against a Changeling, and then the next, the entire place turned Borg. “The Changeling seemed to have some foreknowledge of what was about to happen though.”

Admiral Reyes looked over at Commander Lewis. When he and Ensign Rel had freed them, he’d been fast to lobby accusations that Rear Admiral Edir was a Changeling. “Any idea Commander?”

“Unfortunately not,” Commander Lewis shrugged. “We came over here when we discovered that Mister Ellis had been replaced by a Changeling… call it a hunch… but the Borg? No, they didn’t feature in any of my theories about what was going on.” His mind went to his operators on the Serenity. He’d tasked Dr. Brooks and Chief Shafir to see if they could find anything. “Maybe Serenity knows more?”

Admiral Reyes tapped her combadge.

“Reyes to USS Serenity.”

Nothing.

“Commander Eidran, please come in.”

Still nothing.

The Borg signal had completely overwhelmed the local comms channels, and the call from Admiral Reyes’ combadge never made it off the Probert-class station. Even if it had though, there was no one to pick up on the other end. Their ship had fallen to the Borg.

On the cold deck of the Serenity’s brig, Lieutenant Commander Eidran lay motionless, shot in the back by his own brig officer. He was on the verge of passing out, unable to do any more than watch helplessly as the brig officer approached the cell that held the Changeling. The brig officer tinkered with the controls, and the forcefield dropped.

The Changeling stepped out. It had abandoned its facade as the aged husband of a retired Rear Admiral. “I believe now is the time for me to take my leave,” the creature said as it looked around. From the dark eyes and black veins of the brig officer to the greenish hue the terminals had taken on, it was clear things had unfolded exactly as planned. “Tell your queen I send my regards.”

The brig officer looked up and to the left, as if processing, and then back at the Changeling. The shapeshifter could leave. It had served its purpose. “A shuttle awaits you in shuttlebay one.”

“Enjoy your time with Earth,” the Changeling smiled deviously as he stepped over the Betazoid that had just moments earlier held him captive. At last, the moment of their revenge had arrived. No longer would the solids of Earth threaten them. Sure, it had come at the price of empowering the Borg, but the Borg were simple creatures. They would be dealt with in due time as well.

And then Lieutenant Commander Eidran passed out.

Two decks beneath the brig, Lieutenant Morgan, Chief Shafir and Dr. Brooks had sealed themselves in Mark Ellis’ quarters. The body of a dead security officer lay on the floor near them.

“Please tell me you have an idea, any idea, about what the fuck is going on,” pleaded Lieutenant Morgan as he looked at the young man he’d just killed. “Ensign Bragg, that was this guy’s name… I had breakfast with him in the mess hall just last week.” 

Lieutenant Morgan was shaking. He’d been the one fastest on the draw, the one that had dropped the young Starfleet officer where he stood. There’d been no other option. After that signal had overwhelmed their systems, the Ensign had declared himself Borg and tried to open fire on them. It didn’t make it hurt any less though. He was just a kid.

“Approximately seventy percent of our crew no longer show as aboard the Serenity,” explained Chief Shafir as her hands flew over a wall-mounted terminal. “They’re registering as some form of organic-inorganic hybrid, and their neurological function appears Borg-like in nature.”

“A high-energy signal originating from the outer atmosphere of Jupiter appears to be the source,” Dr. Brooks added as he worked a PADD with one hand while holding his phaser towards the door with the other. “It is triggering a latent genetic sequence in those without a fully developed prefrontal cortex.”

“Any idea how we can stop it?”

“Besides going to Jupiter and shutting it down, no,” replied Dr. Brooks as he studied telemetry on his PADD. “And given the state of our ship, that seems beyond unlikely.” They’d lost all control, and the number of non-Borg lifesigns aboard was quickly falling. “Chief, can you get me a line off the ship?” Maybe Admiral Reyes or Commander Lewis had a better idea.

“Where?”

“Sol Station.”

“Maybe. Give me a moment,” replied Chief Shafir. The Borg’s adaptive cyberdefenses were cutting off attack vectors as quickly as she could establish them, but as she poked and prodded, eventually she found a way. It wouldn’t last though. The Borg would adapt. They always did. “You’ll have sixty seconds at most.”

“Brooks to Lewis.”

“Lewis, go,” came the Commander’s response almost immediately. Lewis’ voice carried a hint of relief, even as phaser fire could be heard in the background. He was just relieved to know that they were not completely alone.

“Sounds like Sol Station has gone mad?” Dr. Brooks observed, noting the sounds of battle across the comlink.

“As good a description as any. I’m going to guess Serenity is no better?”

“Affirmative. 70% assimilated, and the remainder disappearing quickly,” Dr. Brooks replied. “Shafir and Morgan are holed up with me in Mister Ellis’ quarters, and we had to kill our security officer when he went mad.” There was no regret in his voice. Just reality.

“Any idea what’s causing this Tom?” asked Commander Lewis, an uncharacteristic desperation in his voice. While the aged shooter had found himself in many bad situations over the decades, this was something different. In an instant, it was as though all of Starfleet had been assimilated.

“A Borg signal originating from the outer atmosphere of Jupiter is the source,” explained Dr. Brooks. “It is activating a genetic sequence in all our younger crew. Twenty-five appears to be about the determinant age, give or take a few years species to species.”

“That aligns with our experience here,” agreed Commander Lewis. The problem, one not lost on him, was that the majority of Starfleet was twenty five and under. “And it means most of the Fleet is no longer in control of their own actions.”

“Dr. Brooks,” Admiral Reyes asked, jumping into the conversation. “Can you respond to Jupiter with the Serenity?” She had a sense what his answer would be, but she had to ask. Marooned as they were on Sol Station, simply trying to stay alive, they certainly weren’t going to be able to do anything about the Jupiter signal.

“Negative. The Borg have complete control of the ship.”

“What about the rest of the Fleet?”

“Appears to be the same situation everywhere.”

“Then we need to change that. Dr. Brooks, I’m afraid I have a request of you and anyone you can muster,” Fleet Admiral Reyes replied with a deep sense of gravity, recognizing that she was about to make a desperate request of a man Starfleet had turned its back on. “We’re stuck here. We’re going to do what we can to save people aboard Sol Station, but it’ll all be for naught if we cannot stop that signal. You need to retake control of the Serenity and get to Jupiter. At any cost. The fate of the Federation may depend on it.”

“We’ll do what we can,” Dr. Brooks replied without hesitation, but then the line dropped before anything further could be said. The Borg had caught onto Shafir’s signal and cut it off.

Chief Shafir and Lieutenant Morgan looked over at Dr. Brooks for guidance.

“You heard the Admiral,” Dr. Brooks said as his mind raced over ways they might be able to subvert the Collective’s control of their ship. “We’re going to take back this ship.” The fact Starfleet had burned him didn’t even go through his head. Such things were water under the bridge in comparison to the fate of their entire civilization, and that was what was at stake here.

“What about our people?” asked Lieutenant Morgan. He’d already killed one of his colleagues today, and the idea of spilling more blood made his stomach turn. “They’re good officers.”

“They were good officers,” Dr. Brooks replied. “But now they are Borg. Whatever reservations you may have, put them aside Lieutenant. Unless we stop that signal, everyone, and I mean everyone, will be dead… or worse.”

“And you’ve got a good plan for that?” asked Chief Shafir.

“I’ll be honest,” admitted Dr. Brooks. “All I’ve got is a hail mary.”

“Then a hail mary it is,” nodded Chief Shafir. “And if we fail today, at least we can say we did our duty.” She had no illusions about the likelihood of success. The odds were stacked heavily against them. But there was no other option.

And so the three of them set off to do their duty, even if it would be for the very last time.

Sol Station shook hard, and then it shook again. “Every ship of the line is firing on the station,” Commander Lewis reported as he looked out a viewport. Sol Station was as defended as any station could be, but even it could not stand forever against the barrage of a hundred ships. “It won’t be able to take much more of this.”

“Then we need to hurry,” Admiral Reyes insisted as they rushed towards the central observation deck. She hoped they weren’t too late, that the Borg drones had not beat them there.

Neither Commander Lewis nor Dr. Hall objected. They fully understood that their chances of survival fell every minute they remained aboard, but they never, even for an instant, considered fleeing for the lifepods. They both knew there was far more at stake than their own lives.

Up ahead, they spotted four officers pinned down in a corridor. One officer had retreated behind a pillar, curling up in a ball, his head in his hands, resigned to his fate as phaser fire exploded all around him. The other three had sheer terror splayed across their faces as they sprayed their phasers with reckless abandon towards the group of advancing drones.

Approaching unnoticed from the flank, Admiral Reyes, Commander Lewis and Dr. Hall opened fire without hesitation or mercy, cutting down the oncoming horde before the Borg assimilees realized what was happening.

The man with his head in his hands looked up, a stunned expression on his face. “I… I…” he stammered, trying to take in the miracle that had just saved them. “I thought we were done for.”

“Not yet, you aren’t,” Admiral Reyes said with fire in her eyes and a warrior’s spirit in her voice. She gestured for him to get up off the ground. “But you need to get up and get your head back in the game, soldier.”

“I’m not a soldier, ma’am,” the man lamented as he struggled back to his feet. “I’m just a nurse from the medical ward.”

Commander Lewis shot the man in medical teal a cold stare. Pitiful, he thought to himself. Every single one of them was a soldier today. Either that, or they woudl be dead. And they were probably all going to wind up dead anyways, but they needed to at least try.

Admiral Reyes took a more pragmatic approach. She knew they’d need every non-assimilated crewman they could rally so she chose her words carefully: “Today, we’re all soldiers. The fate of the Federation depends on us and what we do here. So form up, and let’s get moving.”

“Are we going for the lifepods?”

“No. We’re going for the main observation deck,” explained Admiral Reyes as she began to advance down the corridor one more. The others hesitated. Was she mad?

“But we need to get off this station…”

“No, we don’t,” replied Commander Lewis flatly. The Admiral had given them an order, and they were to follow it. “We are going for the observation deck.”

“But the station is going to blow…”

Admiral Reyes stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face the four officers they’d just saved. “A good chunk of the Federation’s civilian leadership is up on that observation deck,” Admiral Reyes explained, recognizing that they needed to understand why she was asking them to put their lives on the line. “Even if Sol falls, we cannot allow the Federation’s civilian leadership to go with it. It is our duty to ensure the continuity of government.”

The officers looked uneasy, but the pips on the woman’s collar made it clear that it was an order, and her call to action drew them from their panic and reminded them of their higher purpose as Starfleet officers. They drew up and began to move with renewed vigor.

Over dozens of bodies, the group of seven fought their way towards the main observation deck. Along the way, they conscripted a couple more officers, but that was it. Most of the unassimilated had already fallen. The Borg were everywhere, and they were brutally effective.

When at last the team reached the atrium outside the observation deck, they came upon the next problem.

“There’s nearly a hundred Borg drones out there,” reported Commander Lewis as he peaked around the corner. “Looks like the security team got the door sealed in time, but the Borg are just standing there… waiting.”

Admiral Reyes took a look for herself. She agreed with the Commander’s assessment. Even with the element of surprise, there were far too many Borg for them to fight their way through. “The Borg know time is on their side,” Admiral Reyes noted. “All they have to do is hold them there until the station is destroyed, and they will have accomplished their objective.”

“How efficient.”

“We’ll have to find a way around.”

“One step ahead of you,” Commander Lewis replied, already reviewing schematics on a PADD. “We’ll have to double back to a Jeffries tube junction, but we should be able to find a way in.”

The going was slow as they wound their way through a spiderweb of jefferies tubes, but at least there were no Borg in the maintenance shafts. The Borg had other priorities and so, for the first time since the shooting had begun on the promenade, they had a brief reprieve. Still, the clock was ticking down as the phasers of a hundred ships worked their way through the shields of Sol Station.

After what felt like an eternity, Commander Lewis popped the hatch of a jefferies tube to be met by the barrels of a dozen phaser rifles. But these were not the rifles of Borg converts. Instead, they were the weapons of the security detail attached to the Federation representatives that had been attending the ceremony from the observation deck of Sol Station.

“Gentlemen,” Admiral Reyes smiled as she climbed out behind Commander Lewis. “Good to see you all in such fine health.” She got to her feet and looked around. There were a good two dozen security officers here on the observation deck.

“We thought we were all that was left,” came the voice of a Captain in yellow as he stepped between his men to approach the new arrivals. “It’s good to see we’re not alone.”

“Where’s the president?”

“He and his detail were separated from us before all hell broke loose,” the Captain explained as he glanced towards the blast doors of the observation deck. “But we’ve got over a dozen councilors, cabinet officials, and ambassadors sheltered in place here with us.”

Admiral Reyes looked over at the group of civilians standing by the sweeping windows. She could see horror on their faces as they looked out at the fleet firing upon the station. It was all too clear what would follow once those phasers cut through what was left of Sol Station’s shields.

“We don’t have much time,” Admiral Reyes replied. “We need to get these guys out of here.”

“I agree, but how? Back the way you came in?”

“There isn’t time for that,” Admiral Reyes shook her head. If the Captain had thought of that from the start, their might have been time. But not now. The shields were now mere minutes from collapsing. It would take a half hour to go back the way they came in. “We’re going to have to go straight out the front.” She looked over at the blast doors.

“Respectfully Admiral,” pointed out the Captain. “There’s dozens of Borg drones waiting for us just beyond those blast doors, and there’s no cover. It would be suicide.”

“For many of us, yes,” nodded Admiral Reyes, a deep sense of gravity in her voice. “But it is the only chance we have to avoid the decapitation of our civilian government. We form a human shield in front of them, and we push our way through. As long as any of us are still alive when the last Borg drone falls, we have done our duty and ensured the continuity of government.”

The Captain looked skeptical, as did the men around him. It sounded like suicide.

“Look, I’m not going to pretend we’re all making it out of here alive,” Admiral Reyes admitted. “Hell waits for us on the other side of that door. But we are the only shot these folks have, and if we just stay holed up here, the station will blow up, and we’re all dead anyways.”

“And any chance is better than none,” came a firm voice from behind them as one of the government officials approached the group. “Put a phaser in my hand, and I’ll lead the charge myself.”

Although he wore the uniform of a Federation ambassador, the new arrival carried himself with a sense of duty borne of his days as a Starfleet officer. The Captain looked taken aback, but Admiral Reyes smiled. This was the Michael Drake that she remembered. 

“It’s good to see you Michael,” Admiral Reyes said as she drew a phaser from its holster and handed it to her old colleague. Ambassador Drake accepted the weapon without hesitation, his expression showing nothing but focus and determination as he checked its settings. The Admiral then turned back towards the Captain and his men. “The ambassador here is willing to put his life on the line for his colleagues, and if that isn’t inspiration, I don’t know what is.”

For a moment, everyone was silent.

“So let’s do our duty!”

The Captain gulped, but he knew she was right. He pushed his nerves down, and then turned to address his team. “Form up everyone! Let’s get this plan sorted!”

Over the next few minutes, Admiral Reyes and the Captain in charge of the detail, along with Ambassador Drake, Commander Lewis, Dr. Hall and the rest of the team, hashed out the details of how exactly their desparate push would proceed. It was desparate, no question of that, but they would do their duty.

Just as the team drew up in front of the door, the councilors, cabinet officials and ambassadors gathering behind them, a voice came over the intercom. It was the President.

“Do not approach Earth. A signal of unknown origin has turned out young against us. They have been assimilated by the Borg. Our fleet has been compromised, and as we speak, our planetary defenses are falling. Sol Station is defending Earth as best it can, but we’re almost out of time.”

Hearing those words, reality truly sunk in. Sol Station was going to fall, and Earth would fall shortly thereafter. It was all but inevitable. These government officials, if they could get them to the lifepods, might be all that was left at the end of it.

“We have not been able to find a way to stop this Borg signal and unassimilate our young, but I know if my father were here, he’d remind us all that hope is never lost. There are always possibilities.”

Admiral Reyes’ mind turned to the Serenity and the other ships of the line. There was still hope. Maybe Dr. Brooks, Chief Shafir and Lieutenant Morgan would succeed. Or maybe officers on another one of their ships would pull through. There was always hope, but as the station shook again, she was reminded how fleeting this hope was. Their nightmare was upon them.

“Until then, I implore you. Save yourselves. Farewell.”

The intercom cut off.

“It’s time,” Admiral Reyes said as she addressed the security forces and other officers drawn up around her. “No matter what we encounter, no matter how many of us fall, we do not slow, and we do not stop.” Contrary to their training, she’d instructed them to leave the wounded where they fell. “To our last breath, we punch a hole through the enemy so that the Federation may survive.”

The Admiral took a moment to look over at the councilors, cabinet officials and ambassadors in the rear. They looked terrified. But then, as she looked at the Starfleet officers that surrounded her, hope washed over her. Fear and doubt had mostly been supplanted in their expressions by duty and determination. Whatever fears they had, they’d set them aside.

She looked over at Commander Lewis, who stood by the control panel for the doors. “Do it!” she ordered. He keyed the controls to release the lockdown, and the blast doors opened.

Instantly, every member of the security team opened fire on the legion of Borg drones that awaited them. And then came the return fire. The barrage was intense, and there were few places to take cover, but they had no choice. They just kept firing and pressing forward.

At the vanguard, an officer fell. 

And then another.

And another.

But those still standing just kept advancing. They stayed true to their word. They stepped over the bodies of the fallen and just kept on firing, uncompromising in their mission. Their only purpose was to cut a path through so that the councilors, cabinet officials and ambassadors could get to the lifepods.

Admiral Reyes could feel the pain of loss, but more than that, she felt hope as she could see they were making progress. The Borg were falling faster than they were.

And then she was hit. It was a glancing blow to the Admiral’s lower abdomen, but it cut straight through flesh and her right hipbone, disintegrating her ambulatory function in an instant. She fell to the deck.

“Admiral!” shouted Commander Lewis.

“Go!” Admiral Reyes pleaded. She could see the hesitation on his face. Commander Lewis lived by the philosophy of leaving no man behind, but he couldn’t stop for her. Not now. He needed to keep pressing forward. They all did. “Fucking go!” 

And then Admiral Reyes lost consciousness from internal damage from the phaser blast.

She was right, Commander Lewis reminded himself as he fought his instincts. All of them, Allison included, were expendable. And so, without another glance at his oldest friend, he left her behind as he moved forward with the rest of the team.

“There’s no way around this lockout,” Chief Shafir said as she slammed her fists on the console. Over the bodies of their fellow crewmen, they’d fought to get to this point, but it was all for naught. She’d grown up hacking Starfleet systems, but this one had her beat.

“There’s always a way,” Lieutenant Morgan offered hopefully. “You’ve told me that a hundred times.” He didn’t see it, surely Dr. Brooks or Chief Shafir could find one… right? Where he’d come up learning to operate Starfleet systems, they’d spent much of their past circumventing them. It had almost put Ayala Shafir behind bars, and Dr. Brooks had wound up there. But now they were Starfleet’s best hope.

“If this was a regular Starfleet system, sure,” replied Chief Shafir, her voice thick with desparation. “But this is something different altogether, a bastardized blend of Fleet Formation and Borg subroutines.” Earth was careening towards oblivion, and here they were, unable to even retake their ship, let alone stop the Borg signal. 

“What about if we recapture the bridge?”

“It won’t help.”

“But the consoles up there have specialized command authority.”

“Under normal operating conditions, yes,” nodded the chief. “But Fleet Formation was designed for Fleet-wide incapacitation, including acts of mutiny. Command authority is delegated completely away from the ship turning us into essentially… a drone.” As she said it, she realized what she was implying. So did Dr. Brooks. The pair made eye contact. “Could they have been planning this for years, or decades even?”

“It is possible,” nodded Dr. Brooks. “But it’s also possible we did this to ourselves, and they just took advantage of it. For all Starfleet’s skepticism over artificial life, it has had a history of trying to become more like it.”

“So what can we do then?” asked Lieutenant Morgan. “There must be something.”

“If we cannot regain control of the ship, we cannot stop the signal,” Dr. Brooks explained. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t give the survivors a chance. Chief, what’s the status of Sol Station?”

“Her shields are on the verge of failing,” reported Chief Shafir. “But I’m detecting hundreds of shuttles and lifepods attempting to flee. They won’t get far though. Once the fleet finishes with Sol Station, it will turn its attention to those ships and to the unassimilated people of Earth.”

“We cannot allow that to happen,” Dr. Brooks replied dutifully. As he and Chief Shafir tried to penetrate the subroutines of Fleet Formation and the Borg, he’d already realized how this would end. The only way it could end. “If we cannot put an end to the signal, then we put an end to the fleet. We may not have control of the ship, but Fleet Formation cannot defeat the laws of physics themselves.”

Chief Shafir nodded. She’d come to the same conclusion. There weren’t any other options.

“I’m not following,” Lieutenant Morgan interjected as he looked back and forth between the pair. “What are you saying?”

“We trigger a warp core breach,” Chief Shafir answered flatly. “A rapid, catastrophic containment failure that doesn’t give the fleet time to react and jump away.” The shields of Starfleet vessels were impressive, but even they could not protect against the hundreds of gigajoules of force generated by the matter-antimatter annihilation cause by a containment failure in a fully-juiced warp core.

“But the lives…” Lieutenant Morgan shook his head. There had to be another way. “You’re talking about killing tens of thousands.” Such an explosion would destroy dozens of ships, if not more.

“Tens of thousands so that millions, or billions even, may have a chance!” Chief Shafir snapped back. He had to see that. If they didn’t stop the assault of the assimilated fleet, they’d all be dead anyways.

“But…”

“Jace, look out there,” Chief Shafir said darkly as she gestured towards the window. “All that awaits those folks, all of those in the shuttles and lifeboats fleeing Earth, all those still on Sol Station, and all those on Earth below, is fire and death if we do not act. If we do this, we give humanity a chance at survival.”

Lieutenant Morgan looked out the window at the phaser fire lancing out at Sol Station, the last bastion of defense before the annihilation of Earth. Chief Shafir and Dr. Brooks were right. Soon, Sol Station would fall, and then the fleet would carve up what was left of the survivors. They had to act, to make one final sacrifice so humanity might survive.

Aboard Sol Station, the officers charged with the protection of the councilors, cabinet officials and ambassadors from the observation deck had done their duty. They’d formed a human shield around their charges and pushed through the Borg lines. Dozens had fallen, Admiral Reyes included, but those still standing stepped over the casualties and just kept pressing forward. Their only objective was to get the civilian leadership to the lifepods in an attempt to ensure the continuity of government, and in their desperate mission, they had succeeded.

“The lifeboats are just ahead,” Dr. Hall reported as she rushed forward, rifle sweeping for targets. As they rounded a corner, she spotted two young crewmen standing there with phasers. They looked under twenty five, so without so much as waiting for their reaction, she squeezed off two shots. There was no time to waste, she knew, and they were better safe than sorry. Both young men fell to the ground.

“Move! Move!” Commander Lewis shouted as he popped the hatch to the lifepod and ushered the councilors, cabinet officials, ambassadors and surviving officers into the hold. He counted them off as they stepped through. All twelve of the civilians had survived, but only three of their officers. They’d left over three dozen, Admiral Reyes included, on the deck between the observation deck and the lifepods, either dead or on death’s doorstep.

“That should be all of them,” Ambassador Drake reported as he drew up from the rear and climbed through the hatch. He looked back, waiting for Commander Lewis and Dr. Hall to follow. But neither of them did. “Commander, Lieutenant, it’s time to go.”

“No,” Commander Lewis shook his head. “You go. I’m not leaving a man behind.” Ensign Rel lay incapacitated on the promenade, and Admiral Reyes was bleeding out on the deck outside the blast doors of the observation deck. The Ambassador opened his mouth to protest, but Commander Lewis raised his hand. “We did what needed to be done for the Federation. Now, we are going to do right by our people. No man left behind.”

Without another word, Commander Lewis and Dr. Hall turned to head back into the station. Ambassador Drake had to admire them for that. And then the call of duty struck him once more. He could not leave Reyes behind either. They’d fought on the line together, and dead or alive, he owed it to her. And so he climbed back out of the lifepod and shut the hatch behind him. He watched momentarily as the lifepod launched away, and then he rushed to catch back up with the pair. 

Bodies lay everywhere. The young, dozens of them, almost a hundred even, those assimilated by the Borg and felled by their colleagues. And then there were those who’d not been assimilated, the security detail and the other officers that had been conscripted by Admiral Reyes for their last stand against the Borg. Among them lay the Admiral herself.

“She’s in bad shape,” reported Dr. Hall as she scanned the Admiral with her medical tricorder. “The phaser shot disintegrated her ilium and irradiated a portion of her pelvic and abdominal cavities. But she’s alive. I can stabilize her temporarily but, if we don’t get her to a medical facility soon…” She didn’t need to say more. What she needed to do was get to work. She dropped to a knee and started fishing equipment out of her medical kit.

Commander Lewis looked down at his tricorder. He had equally bad news. “We’ve got a dozen lifesigns approaching at three o’clock,” he reported and then glanced down the other hallway. “And another dozen from nine o’clock, all registering with the neurological function of Borg drones. We’re cut off.” Of course they were. He’d rushed to recover Admiral Reyes without due tactical consideration. It was foolish. He shouldn’t have done it. But he had a duty to his fallen. Leave no man behind.

Ambassador Drake looked around for cover, but there was none. It was why the battle had been so bloody in the first place. Their only choice had been to cut down the Borg before the Borg could cut them all down. “Well, I guess this is where we make our final stand,” he said as he raised his rifle and prepared to meet the oncoming advance. “It has been a pleasure, both of you. We did our part. We gave the Federation a chance.” He had no regrets.

Aboard the Serenity, Dr. Brooks, Lieutenant Morgan and Chief Shafir charged into main engineering, rifles ablaze. They caught the small contingent of assimilated crewmen flatfooted and cut them down without hesitation. Knowing they were all dead anyways, Lieutenant Morgan no longer regretted the lives he took. Or at least, he regretted them no more than all the lives they were about to take, their own included, when they blew the core.

Lieutenant Morgan rushed over to the terminal in front of the warp core. A seasoned operations officer, he trained to prevent warp core breaches, but now he was going to cause one. He knew what to do, and guided by Dr. Brooks, who helped him set up the parameters to ensure the maximum possible blast yield, he got to work. Chief Shafir stood nearby keeping watch in case any additional Borg came upon them.

A couple minutes later, everything was ready. It would be the explosion to end all explosions. “We’re ready,” Lieutenant Morgan declared, his voice shaky with the realization of what he was about to do as he stared at the button that would trigger a catastrophic cascade in the matter-antimatter assembly. “On your call.”

Dr. Brooks opened his mouth to give the order.

But then the lights flickered and the terminals became garbled. 

Something was happening. Something was changing.

“Abort!” shouted Chief Shafir as she rushed to a terminal that had suddenly taken on the normal blue hue of a Starfleet display.

Lieutenant Morgan pulled his hand away from the console and looked at her for an explanation. 

“If these readings are correct, the Borg signal has stopped,” Chief Shafir reported, stunned as she double checked her work.

“It… what?” asked Dr. Brooks as he rushed alongside her to get a look for himself. She was right. The signal was gone. On a hunch, he queued up long range sensors. “Curious. An explosion in the outer atmosphere of Jupiter and… wait, is that the Enterprise-D?”

Aboard Sol Station, Commander Lewis and Ambassador Drake prepared to fire as the assimilated officers came upon them, but then the lights flickered and the advancing drones stopped dead in their tracks. Suddenly, the focused faces of the assimilated crewmen were overtaken by expressions of pure confusion, those of a dozen young men and women completely unsure of how they’d wound up where they were with phasers in their hands.

“The fuck?” asked Commander Lewis, looking over at Ambassador Drake.

The older man just lowered his phaser and smiled. “It’s over.”

Between them, Dr. Hall didn’t even look up. She was completely focused on trying to stabilize the internal organ function of the Admiral enough to give Allison Reyes a chance at life.

Pain. Inexorable pain. But pain meant life. How? How was she still alive? If the high energy phaser blast hadn’t killed her, the explosion of Sol Station should have. The last thing she remembered was Commander Lewis stepping over her body as she succumbed to her injuries. She’d ordered them to leave the bodies where they fell, and she’d become one of them. But then how was she here now?

Allison Reyes opened her eyes. It was bright. Impossibly bright. She tried to lift her arm to shield her eyes, but she didn’t have the strength. It just flopped back to her side. All she could do was squint to filter out some of the light.

“Admiral, you’re awake,” said the gentle voice of a nurse approaching her bedside. “How are you feeling?”

“I… uh… what happened?”

“You received a high energy phaser blast to your lower abdom…”

“No,” Admiral Reyes interrupted. “What happened to Sol Station? To Earth? To our people?” That was what truly mattered. That was what she’d meant to give her life to protect.

“Picard pulled a miracle out of his ass,” came the response of a familiar voice as Michael Drake stepped into view. The ambassador looked worse for wear, his uniform ripped and his skin caked with blood and dust. “The old geezer and his wheelchair brigade dragged their old ship out of the museum and used it to stop the Borg signal over Jupiter.”

Admiral Reyes chuckled. Of course they did. But then pain overtook her, the movement of her chest igniting damaged nerves. She winced and took a moment to recompose herself. “And the councilors and cabinet officials?” They’d formed a human shield around them and fought their way across Sol Station in a desperate attempt to ensure the continuity of the Federation’s civilian leadership.

“We got them off the station safely,” Ambassador Drake assured her. “Our officers, they performed admirably. Every last one of them. They did what needed to be done.”

Admiral Reyes smiled, but only for a moment. She could see pain behind his eyes. Success had not come without a cost. “How many did we lose, Michael?”

“It was a bloodbath, Allison,” Ambassador Drake frowned. “By the time the last drone fell, it was just me, Commander Lewis, Dr. Hall, and three others. Plus four of you that we found bleeding out on the deck after we got the civilians off station.”

The air left the admiral’s lungs. Nearly four dozen officers had charged through those blast doors on her orders, but not even a dozen had survived. The survivors’ guilt set in instantly. “But me… how?”

“Because of that guy over there,” Ambassador Drake said, gesturing across the room at an aged Commander in a tattered uniform who sat next to another bed. “He insisted on going back for you.”

Admiral Reyes looked over. Yet again, she owed Commander Lewis her life. The old spook looked up, as if sensing her gaze, and nodded. No words needed to be said. And then his gaze fell back to the bed before him. The admiral recognized the young woman lying there. It was Ensign Elyssia Rel, the flight controller from their hazard team who’d helped free them from the grasps of the changeling infiltrator before the Borg signal overtook her. Dr. Hall had shot her before she could shoot them. “Is she… is she going to be ok?” 

“The doctors say she’ll make a full recovery,” nodded Ambassador Drake. “As will you. Your counselor, she was brilliant. That shot you took, it did a number on your innards, but Lieutenant Hall worked miracles to keep you alive until we could get you to a trauma ward.”

Admiral Reyes tried to sit up, but she couldn’t. It was as though she couldn’t rotate her midsection whatsoever. “What’s wrong with me?”

“The blast did significant damage to your pelvic and abdominal structures,” explained the nurse who’d taken a step back to let the two talk. “But you’re going to make a full recovery. It will take time, and it’s going to take multiple surgeries and consistent physical therapy, but we will get you there.”

“I… I…” Admiral Reyes said, fumbling for her words. The exhaustion was too much. She wanted to know more about her missing friend, the changeling infiltrators, the Borg signal, their assimilated youth, and, most of all, how they’d almost lost it all, but she was too tired and too weak to even construct a coherent question.

“Rest, Allison,” said Ambassador Drake. “There’ll be plenty of time to deconstruct all of this later.”

“We were one key press away from ending them all,” Lieutenant Morgan cried as he looked out the window. “And from ending ourselves and everyone else on board!” When the Borg signal stopped, they’d been about to trigger a containment failure in a fully juiced warp core. If the signal had continued just a couple more seconds, it would have been too late, and thousands would have died in a conflagration of their creation.

“Jace, you can’t think that way,” Chief Shafir offered as she came alongside him. When it became clear they couldn’t regain control of the ship, they’d set out to turn the ship into an antimatter bomb that might destroy enough of the fleet that the remaining free people of the Sol system might have a chance at survival. “We had no other choice.”

“We always have a choice!” Lieutenant Morgan snapped back as he turned to face her, his eyes watering and his hands shaking. “We had a choice on Nasera, and we had a choice here! What gives us the right to decide who lives and who dies? We killed our own last night, Ayala! Our own! Ensign Bragg. I shot him dead in Ellis’ quarters. And Crewman Waserman in the corridor on deck six. And Lieutenant Mills, and Chief S’garoth, and… and… and fuck, I don’t even know all their names! I don’t even know their names, Ayala, and I killed them!”

He keeled over, his hands on his knees, as tears of anguish poured down his cheeks, and all Chief Shafir could do is place a hand on his back and rub it gently as he wept. She understood how he felt. She’d been there just a few months earlier in the tunnels beneath Nasera, and while not on the same scale as what they’d almost done here, there’d been no last second miracle either. She’d actually pressed the button that time.

“And for what?!” Lieutenant Morgan pleaded between sobs. “For what, Ayala?! We killed them, and we almost killed so many more… for what? The signal stopped, and it had nothing to do with us! We could have just holed up in Ellis’ quarters until it was over… and they wouldn’t be dead!” The guilt was unbearable. Ensign Bragg would have died either way. He had the unfortunate luck of being in Ellis’ quarters with them when the signal hit. But Waserman, Mills, S’garoth and the others? They might still be alive.

Neither Lieutenant Morgan nor Chief Shafir heard the door open. “No Jace,” Commander Lewis said in an assuring tone as he stepped into the room. “You did your duty with the best information you had at the time.” The Commander drew to a stop right in front of the lieutenant and looked down at the man. “What were the last words Admiral Reyes said to you?”

“I… I can’t even remember,” admitted Lieutenant Morgan as he looked up at his boss. In his current state, he couldn’t recall much of anything except the lives he’d taken and the many more he’d almost ended.

“At any cost. The fate of the Federation may depend on it.”

For a moment, those words hung there in the silence as everyone took them in.

“Admiral Reyes understood the stakes, and she gave the order,” Commander Lewis reminded him. “You, and the Chief here, and Dr. Brooks too, you three did your duty and exactly what was asked of you. Just count it as a most happy miracle that it ended when it did.”

“Forgive me sir,” Lieutenant Morgan admitted. “But it just doesn’t feel that way right now.”

“I know, Jace,” Commander Lewis nodded as placed hand on the operator’s shoulder. “I know.” And it was true. He did know. He’d been in the Lieutenant’s shoes so many times before. Sometimes, there were only bad choices, and still you had to choose. “All I can say is that time brings clarity, and that in the end, you’ll realize you did the right thing today.”

Lieutenant Morgan wasn’t so sure.

As they stood there contemplating the Commander’s words, another figure stepped into the room. Her willowy frame was frail after the mortal and mental trials she’d endured.

“Elyssia,” smiled Chief Shafir as she bolted across the room to hug the young Trill officer. They’d grown close since Nasera, and Chief Shafir understood what had happened aboard Sol Station. The rest of them were old enough that they’d not been affected by the Borg signal, but Ensign Rel had not been as lucky. She’d been assimilated by the signal, and then Dr. Hall had dropped her. “So good to see you back on your feet!”

“So good to be back in control of them,” Ensign Rel smiled meekly, but the brightness had left her eyes, replaced by a vacant sort of nothingness. The Borg voices were gone, but their echoes still haunted her consciousness. They weren’t like the past lives of her symbionts. They were something different altogether.

Sensing Elyssia’s trials were not a topic to explore at the moment, Chief Shafir turned back towards Commander Lewis. “How’s Reyes?”

“She’s a tough cookie,” Commander Lewis replied. “The hit she took, it disintegrated her right ilium and irradiated a half dozen vital organs, but Doc Hall kept her alive until we could get her into surgery. She’s going to make it.” That was better than could be said for most of the valiant officers who’d charged alongside them. The majority had lost their lives in that desperate push aboard Sol Station to prevent the decapitation of the Federation’s civilian leadership.

“That’s good at least…” Chief Shafir nodded. “Did you hear about Dr. Brooks?”

“No,” Commander Lewis frowned. He’d figured the physicist had just gone to bed or something. It had, after all, been a long night. “What happened?” 

“Right after the battle, as we were tending to the wounded, a team from Starfleet Security came up here,” Chief Shafir explained. “Not to help us secure the ship though. Just to collect their prisoner. Dr. Brooks was literally performing a field cricothyroidotomy for a crewman in CICO when those assholes tried to cuff him. I had to turn my phaser on them and demand they wait for him to finish or the crewman would have died.” It had been a tense, and completely unnecessary scene, and she was still furious about it.

“I see…”

“After all he did, it’s bullshit!” Chief Shafir added.  “The Federation turned its back on him, yet he didn’t hesitate to try and save it. I was there with him. He was ready to die for them. And yet, when the battle was over, the first thing those assholes did was throw him back in lockup.”

“Reyes and I will handle it,” Commander Lewis assured her. Sure, they’d sprung Dr. Brooks from lockup under false pretense, but that was on him and Reyes. Dr. Brooks had simply carried himself as a true officer should, placing duty above all else even at great personal expense to himself. That should count for something, Lewis told himself. And he’d make sure it did. 

The team sat down around the coffee table and talked for a while. There were many questions about the Changelings, the Borg, the conspiracy, and the events of Frontier Day, but everything was too fresh to have clarity on those, so they spent the time recounting and deconstructing their own experiences. Commander Lewis typically walled himself away from such discussions, but tonight, he could tell it was what his team needed more than anything. What they’d been through would live with them for some time.

As the long night waned, exhaustion began to set in. “I’m sorry folks, but I’m exhausted,” Ensign Rel apologized as she got up from the couch. “I really need to get some sleep.”

“I’ll walk you back to your room,” Commander Lewis offered as he rose to accompany her.

“Goodnight, you two,” Chief Shafir said. When she’d called Reyes as the fleet fell to the Borg, she’d believed that it was the last time any of them would ever hear each other’s voices, that all of them would be dead by morning. But here they were. She raised her glass in a toast to the pair standing at the doorway. “To surviving to fight another day.”

Commander Lewis nodded silently in acknowledgement and then followed Ensign Rel out into the corridors of the Serenity. They walked slowly and in silence. Commander Lewis never knew what to say in moments like this, but this time, Elyssia Rel was at a loss as well.

When they came upon her quarters, the Ensign stepped inside and looked back. She wasn’t ready to be alone. Not after experiencing the overwhelming presence of the entire Borg Collective only hours earlier. “Would you like to come in, Commander?”

“Not tonight, Elyssia,” Commander Lewis said solemnly. “There’s a whole ship I need to deal with.” Admiral Reyes would be out of commission for at least another week, and Lieutenant Commander Eidran was still in sickbay, so that left the Serenity and her crew in his hands.

He could see the disappointment on her face.

“But before I go,” Commander Lewis said as he leaned in. Their lips met, and he savored the moment. “I thought I’d lost you last night. And I’m so thankful I did not.” He stepped back, out of the doorway, and stared into her piercing blue eyes.

“As am I,” Elyssia smiled lightly as the door slid shut.

For a moment, Commander Lewis just stood there outside her room. The emotions running through his head were unfamiliar to him, but so was everything about this thing with Elyssia. People in his line of work didn’t frequently entertain such intimacies, especially not with a member of their own team, but somehow here he was.

“You know your feelings almost got us killed,” a voice said, drawing him from his thoughts. He turned to see Dr. Hall standing there watching him with her arms folded across her chest. “You hesitated.”

“I know,” Commander Lewis nodded. She was correct, and she had every right to call him on it. When Ensign Rel had been assimilated by the Borg signal, he froze. It was only Dr. Hall’s quick reaction times that had saved them from being on the wrong end of a phaser blast.

“You need to think long and hard about whatever this is that you’ve got going on with her,” Dr. Hall warned. She respected Commander Lewis as an operator enough to not force the issue, but she wanted to make sure he understood. “Handle your shit or next time, we might end up dead on the deck.”

“I know.” 

The pair began to walk down the hallway together.

“How’s the team doing?” Dr. Hall asked.

“I’ve never seen them like this,” Commander Lewis admitted. “Not even after Nasera.”

“On Nasera, we knew the face of the enemy, and we knew what we were walking into. Here, we knew neither. We were betrayed by our own, and we had to kill our own. And in the end, it wasn’t even their fault,” Dr. Hall pointed out. “It’s completely different, and very messy.”

Commander Lewis nodded. It made sense.

“There’s another dimension too,” Dr. Hall added. “We went straight from the Lost Fleet crisis to this without any time to process. Cumulative trauma with rapid recurrence all but guarantees the development of more complex psychopathologies.”

Again, Commander Lewis nodded. He thought back to some of the veterans he knew from the Dominion War and the demons they faced for decades after. Would it be like that here for the survivors of the Lost Fleet and Frontier Day?

“It’s not just the team either,” cautioned Dr. Hall. “It’s the entire ship, and probably much of the fleet. The ramifications will be felt for some time, and they will have to be confronted.”

Commander Lewis sighed. Mental health was not his specialty. He preferred the phaser. It’s why he swore he’d never take a Command role again. “I gather we cannot count on the kid?”

“Lieutenant Commander Eidran?”

Commander Lewis nodded. In most circumstances, the ship’s command staff would be responsible for such things, but in this case, the ship had no assigned Commanding Officer – Admiral Reyes had just commandeered it for this mission – and he had a hunch the Executive Officer wouldn’t be much help either.

“He hasn’t even gotten over the death of his old captain yet, and now all of this has been piled on top,” Dr. Hall confirmed. “I wouldn’t count on him one bit, even after he’s out of sickbay. He’s a mess, embarrassed about getting shot in the back, shaken by the depth of the conspiracy, and broken by the scale of loss.”

“Well, with Reyes still on life support, and Eidran a train wreck,” Commander Lewis concluded. “I guess it’s on the two of us then to mend a broken ship.” That thought was more daunting than everything they’d just been through.

With labored breaths and a wobbly gait, Admiral Reyes stepped out of the shuttle. She had to use a cane to steady her step, but she was just relieved to be out of sickbay after a week of surgeries and physical therapy.

“Admiral on deck!”

She looked up with surprise as a hundred pairs of Starfleet-issued boots clinked together and the assembled officers and crew of the USS Serenity raised their hands in salute. Standing at the front was Commander Lewis, his hair unusually tidy and his uniform uncharacteristically pressed.

The admiral straightened up as best she could and returned the salute. 

Commander Lewis stepped forward and extended his hand. “Welcome home Admiral.” As they shook, the pair locked eyes. They’d been through so much together, and yet again, she owed him her life. He’d come back for her as Sol Station burned and she lay there dying.

All around them, the crew broke into applause.

“What is this Commander?” Admiral Reyes asked under her breath. “I’ve never known you one for pomp and circumstance.”

“I thought… well, we thought…” Commander Lewis explained, glancing over his shoulder at Dr. Hall. “That after what everyone has been through, they could all benefit from a happy moment.” Admiral Reyes chuckled. Who was this officer, and what had he done with Commander Lewis? 

As Commander Lewis stepped back, Admiral Reyes smiled at the officers assembled in the shuttlebay. On one hand, she appreciated her cold-blooded shooter and psychologist had found it in themselves to actually worry about crew morale, but on the other, she’d seen the casualty reports and knew the hell they’d just lived through. She wasn’t sure she was ready to address the crew as they deserved to be addressed.

“A week ago, we gathered to celebrate a proud moment in our history when our forefathers took a giant leap forward with the first warp five flight,” Admiral Reyes began. “But what should have been a joyous celebration turned into an inconceivable nightmare.”

Around the room, she could see the shadows in their eyes. The young were haunted by the control that had been stripped from them as they were turned into drones, and the rest were haunted by the powerlessness they’d felt in the face of the Borg onslaught.

“Whether you found yourself affected by the Borg signal, or in a fight for your life against those who were,” Admiral Reyes continued. “Remember that it was the Borg that turned us against each other. It was not a matter of strength or courage whether you were affected – only age and genetics – and now that the signal is gone, don’t let it divide us further.”

She was very worried about the guilt that would saddle those who were turned, and the feelings of betrayal that would afflict those who found themselves fighting their fellow sailors.

“It will take time to grieve, to process, and to heal,” Admiral Reyes cautioned, although she knew that, no matter how many times she said it, they’d still underestimate the long road ahead. It was just the reality of trauma. “And I will not pretend it’ll be easy. But what makes us great is our ability to come together, not under the control of one voice, but in unity as one community. Take care of each other, watch out for each other, and come to us if you need. We, each of us on the Command Staff, and every officer and crewman across this ship, are here for you. We will get through this together.”

The crew looked amongst themselves. It was hardly the speech they’d expected from a warrior whose tales of triumph had preceded her, but it was exactly the speech they needed.

Admiral Reyes took a deep breath. “It has been, and continues to be, my honor to serve with each and every one of you.” And once more, Admiral Reyes raised her hand in salute. 

The officers returned it in kind.

“Dismissed!”

As the officers and crew peeled back to their duties, her eyes settled on a pair of older civilians standing in the back of the room. Long ago, she had served together with both of them in the Admiralty, and while neither still wore the uniform, they’d both suffered through this latest crisis to ensure the Federation survived it.

“Aria,” Admiral Reyes said as she extended her arms and approached the elder Trill woman, a mess of emotions racing through her veins. She felt equal parts joy and regret.

“In the flesh,” the retired rear admiral assured her with a meek smile as they embraced. “I hear you tore Earth apart looking for me, and for that, I am forever grateful.”

“I am so sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Edir shook her head. “If I’d known the danger, I might have brought a phaser, but still I would have gone. And since they knew you were digging, their intent, from the beginning, was to replace me. No matter how prepared I was, the outcome would have been the same.” After the battle, it had become clear just how deep the Changeling infiltration went.

“And how’s Mark?”

“He’s recovering,” Edir nodded as guilt flashed across her face. “The one regret I have in all this is how he got caught up in it. He’s my rock, my place of peace, and he didn’t deserve to suffer as he did.” She bowed her head in sadness. “I wanted to come up and see you off, but after this, Mark and I are going to spend the summer sailing the Med.” There was something calming about skirting across the whitecaps with the wind at your back.

“And Michael,” Admiral Reyes said as she turned to the Ambassador. “What about you?”

“I’m going to hang around and help Starfleet deconstruct what happened here,” Ambassador Drake replied. “Let’s just say, I’ve received more than a few apologies in recent days for how everyone so thoroughly rebuffed me when I went digging, and there’s a hunger to get to the bottom of how this all happened and what we can do to prevent it from happening again.”

“Just promise me the outcome won’t be a repeat of the nineties.”

“Not if I have anything to do with it.”

For a moment, the three former members of Fourth Fleet Command stood there, each in their own thoughts. The last time an enemy had struck the Federation like this, Starfleet had pulled back and hidden within its borders for over a decade. Although it had a different impact on each of them, none of the three could fathom Starfleet doing that again.

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to get going,” Ambassador Drake said as he and Edir turned to head for a shuttle that would take them back to the surface. “But can I ask you to do me a favor?”

“Sure, what’s that?”

“Give Robert a hug from me,” Ambassador Drake answered in a tone rich with fatherly love. “It’s been far too long since I’ve seen either of my kids. I miss them.”

“I’ve never taken him the hugging type,” Admiral Reyes chuckled. “But I’ll give it a shot.”

As she watched the two depart, she sighed. It had been so long since she’d commandeered the USS Serenity over Nasera that she’d almost forgotten Commander Robert Drake was in the process of investigating Commander Lewis and his team for their actions on Nasera. Maybe he’d forgotten about it while they were gone? Or maybe he’d look the other way after everything that had happened? Nope, not a chance in hell.

Two security officers stepped through the door. An older man stood between them, his hands cuffed in the front. The admiral looked up from her desk and sighed. Starfleet Security had received the order hours ago. At this point, the cuffs served no purpose except to demean him.

“Uncuff the prisoner.” 

Admiral Reyes rose from her desk and approached. The security officers released the cuffs, and she handed the man a PADD.

“Dr. Thomas Duncan Brooks,” Admiral Reyes began. “Based on your heroic actions during humanity’s darkest hour, and by the consent of the magistrate, you are hereby granted early release from the New Zealand Penal Colony.”

Dr. Brooks opened his mouth to reply, but Admiral Reyes didn’t let him get a word in.

“Further, your actions demonstrated a commitment to duty, to your fellow officers, and to the Federation at large that all who wear the Starfleet delta should aspire to,” Admiral Reyes continued as plucked a box off her desk. “And as such, I hereby reinstate you to the rank of Commander with all the rights and privileges thereof.” She opened the box, within which rested the three solid pips that had been ripped from his collar four years prior.

“I… I…” Dr. Brooks fumbled for his words. “Thank you.”

“No Commander, thank you.”

The security officers that had just brought Dr. Brooks up here seemed more than a bit confused by the exchange. They had been briefed that Inmate C-621-224 would be released, but they knew little else about him besides that he was a convict serving a five year term. They certainly had not expected a commissioning ceremony.

“And you two,” Admiral Reyes said, looking at the pair. “You can go. Dr. Brooks and I have work to do.” She watched them leave with distaste. Not only did she disagree with the circumstances that had put Dr. Brooks behind bars in the first place, but she was furious with them for how they treated him after Frontier Day. The man was a hero, by every definition of the word, and yet their first priority after the battle was to slap the cuffs back on. Thankfully though, his freedom was not ultimately their decision, and the magistrate judge had been far more reasonable.

Once the security officers had departed, Dr. Brooks looked over at her. “Work to do?”

“A mutual acquaintance of ours assures me you’re one of the best science minds he’s ever known,” Admiral Reyes explained. “And we just happen to have one of the most advanced mobile laboratories in all of Starfleet aboard our ship.”

“Forgive me, but the Duderstadt class leaves a few things lacking,” Dr. Brooks replied as he looked around. The multirole light cruiser was quick, nimble and carried an impressive sensor suite, but it lacked the laboratories and equipment necessary for intense scientific research.

“Oh no, this ship is just a loaner,” Admiral Reyes chuckled. They might have blown up a Starfleet black site and fought their way through a Borg-facilitated coup together, but in the chaos, they’d missed some of the simple things. “Our actual command is the USS Polaris, an Odyssey-class vessel that hosts the Advanced Science, Technology and Research Activity, a specialized, cross-functional mission unit intended to fuel Starfleet’s innovation engine through discovery, investigations and diplomacy on the frontier.”

She handed Dr. Brooks a PADD with the details and gave him a minute to skim it.

“Sounds like quite a gig you’ve got there,” Dr. Brooks offered with a smile. The reality, he knew, was that while he was free, it was unlikely he’d be getting a lot of job offers any time soon. This one seemed pretty damn good. “Count me in.”

Before anything further could be said, Admiral Reyes’ combadge chirped. 

“Ma’am,” reported the Lieutenant Commander Eidran over the link. “You have an incoming call from Rear Admiral Alex Grayson, Fourth Fleet Command.”

Admiral Reyes quirked an eyebrow. She was expecting a call from Fourth Fleet Command, but from Commodore Jori, the Task Force 93 Commander. “If you’ll excuse me, Dr. Brooks,” she apologized, to which Dr. Brooks nodded and promptly excused himself to go get settled below deck. “Put him through to my Ready Room.” 

Admiral Reyes took a seat at her desk, and after a moment, the seal of the United Federation of Planets was replaced by a middle aged Rear Admiral with an appearance equal parts rugged and professional. “Good morning Admiral. I gather you’re recovering well?”

“Yes, thank you,” Admiral Reyes smiled. “The miracles of modern medicine.”

“Miracles indeed,” Rear Admiral Grayson nodded, although his tone hardly sounded invested in her recovery. “It sounds like the Serenity is also space worthy again, even after you put her through the ringer in, oh, I don’t know… the Minara Nebula… the Ciatar Nebula… and Earth… just to name a few.” There was an odd bite to his words as he mentioned each location, and he did not look impressed.

“She did us good. The ship and her crew,” Admiral Reyes replied, wondering where the Rear Admiral was going with this. “We did what needed to be done.”

“Just like the Polaris? And the Diligent? And the Ingenuity?” Rear Admiral Grayson pressed. “And the other ships we sent with you to retake Nasera?” It wasn’t lost on him that those ships and their crew had not all made it home.

“Yes, them too…”

“I’m glad to hear, Admiral,” Rear Admiral Grayson replied as his eyes narrowed on her. “Because there’s an old expression that’s fitting here: you break it, you buy it.”

“Excuse me?”

“The USS Polaris is an impressive platform, essentially a starbase with a warp drive, but after recent events, it has become clear that the mission of the Advanced Science, Technology and Research Activity could benefit from some support ships,” Rear Admiral Grayson explained. “As such, Fourth Fleet Command has elected to establish Polaris Squadron which, in addition to your flagship, will consist of the USS Diligent for tactical support, the USS Serenity for reconnaissance and rapid response, and the USS Ingenuity for mobile research.”

“That’s excellent,” Admiral Reyes replied with a big smile. Captain Vox, Commander Lee, and their ships had proven themselves during the Battle of Nasera, and she’d grown fond of the Serenity since wrangling it from Commodore Jori. “But why do I gather from your tone that there’s something else?”

“Because there is,” Rear Admiral Grayson confirmed sternly. “Effective immediately, the USS Polaris and her squadron report into Task Force 47. My task force.” That’s why he was calling rather than Jori. “And let me be very clear with you: your maverick attitude and your bloody tendencies, Imya might have let them slide, but I won’t. There is a sanctity in life that you’d best to remember.”

“There is indeed,” agreed Admiral Reyes. How could he think those 935 lives lost over Nasera didn’t haunt her every single day? Or that, when the numbers were finally in, that the same would not be true for the battle of Sol? “But there is also a responsibility we have to the free people of the Federation, and we rose to the call, again and aga…”

“Spare me, Admiral,” Rear Admiral Grayson interrupted. “It works well with your officers as you fly into battles of impossible odds, but what if you didn’t have to?” The rhetorical nature of his question did not warrant a response. “I’m acutely aware of your successes during the recent crises, and we owe you our gratitude for it, but I want you to think long and hard before you do it again. You strike me as an aging war hero working a bit too hard to martyr yourself. If it was just you, you pays your money, and you takes your chances, but it’s not. We trust you with the lives of thousands of officers and crew, and you’d best remember it.”

“Understood,” Admiral Reyes replied curtly. The Rear Admiral had come into this call intending to say his peace, and there was no point in arguing. At the end of the day, she had no regrets over the decisions she’d made, and she’d do it again if it were necessary. “Is there anything else?”

“In fact, there is,” Rear Admiral Grayson nodded, his mannerisms softening and becoming more friendly. “There are concerning developments occurring on the frontier. I’m sending the details on a secondary carrier wave. Link up with your squadron and see what you can find.”

“We’ll depart within the day,” Admiral Reyes assured him. She was ready to get back out there. They’d been over Earth nursing their wounds for far too long, and a good old mystery would be the perfect way to stretch the legs once more.

Rear Admiral Grayson adjusted in his chair as if he was about to close the link, but then he stopped, appearing to remember something else he needed to say. “Oh, and one last thing. It has been brought to my attention by the Judge Advocate General’s office that they feel you have been impeding their investigation into your Hazard Team for its actions over Nasera.”

“I assure you that my team behaved…”

“It is presumptive to assure me as such,” Rear Admiral Grayson stopped her firmly. “And it’s not your place to do so either. You are to ensure that the JAG has full access to Commander Lewis and his team – no shore leave, no extended away mission, and certainly no more month long soirees on commandeered ships – until that investigation is complete.” He had to agree with the JAG that it was more than a little convenient that Admiral Reyes had taken her whole Hazard Team, but practically no one else, with her when she left Nasera aboard the Serenity.

Admiral Reyes nodded but said nothing. Again, arguing would get them nowhere.

“Then with all that said,” Rear Admiral Grayson concluded with a smile. “Welcome to Task Force 47. I look forward to working alongside you and the outstanding sailors of Polaris Squadron in the times ahead.”