Seated at the head of the conference table in the USS Triton, Captain Horatio McCallister was engrossed in reading the various reports that laid before him. A steaming mug of tea sat next to him, warming his hand. The room was quiet, apart from the occasional beeping sound of the consoles near him. Captain McCallister had chosen to work in the conference room instead of the ready room, which Captain Rio Canção formerly occupied. Memories of Captain Canção’s heroic sacrifice during the Triton’s last mission still lingered in the room, making it difficult for McCallister to work there. Though her personal belongings had been placed into storage, it didn’t feel right to McCallister. She was one of Starfleet’s honoured captains. She had served Starfleet for a long time, over a century, thanks to her El-Aurian heritage. Filling her shoes, let alone her legacy, wasn’t going to be easy for whoever Starfleet decided to put in as Triton’s permanent captain. 

Suddenly, the door opened, and Triton’s first officer, Commander Thaustin, entered the room with a look of concern on his face. He approached the table and spoke in a respectful tone, “Captain, we’ve arrived in orbit of Earth and are now docked at the San Francisco Shipyards.”

Captain McCallister put down his mug and looked up, responding calmly and composedly, “Thank you, Commander.” 

The two of them had developed a good working rapport ever since Horatio’s brother, their squadron commander, had given him temporary command of the Triton several days ago. The young Xindi man was terrific at his job, and McCallister was warming to him. He had suffered losses on his own command during the mission against the Dominion. His first officer, chief of operations and even now, his chief science officer, was on the Odyssey instead of the Bellerophon. The crew he had spent building together was fractured, just like the Triton crew was grieving for those who were now gone. If it had been for the Frontier Day celebrations, he would have stayed with the Bellerophon to help those who needed it. Instead, the almost heartless approach from Starfleet was that they couldn’t have one of their ships sat among the fleet without a proper captain in the centre set. It was all ridiculous, in McCallister’s opinion. It was just some stupid, over-the-top production to show off the might of Starfleet. A might, he felt, could have been used more in the Deneb Sector only a few weeks ago. 

Thaustin took a step closer to the table and continued, “It’s an awkward situation, isn’t it, sir? You, temporarily assuming command of the Triton while your own ship is being towed to the Avalon Fleet Yards for significant repairs.”

Captain McCallister nodded in agreement, “Yes, it is. But duty calls, Commander. Starfleet demanded that a captain be assigned to the Triton ahead of the Frontier Day celebrations. I couldn’t refuse the request, even though my own ship is heavily damaged.”

Thaustin responded with a smile, “I understand, Captain. And I welcome your leadership on board the Triton. But I also understand that you would wish to be with the Bellerophon, especially during this difficult time.”

Captain McCallister nodded once more, “Thank you, Commander. I appreciate your understanding and support.”

As Thaustin turned to leave the room, Captain McCallister’s mind was already focused on the task ahead. He may have been someone other than the Triton’s permanent captain, but he was determined to do everything he could to ensure that everything went without a hitch so he could get back to the Bellerophon. The responsibility of leading the Triton during this critical time weighed heavily on Captain McCallister’s mind, but he was confident in his abilities to handle the challenges that lay ahead. 

He had no other choice.

Thaustin walked back onto the bridge to the commotion of the crew finalising docking procedures with the shipyard. Though he liked Captain McCallister, he was no Rio Canção. Her grace, elegance and sometimes mischievous looks and sense of humour made her quite the presence on the Triton. 

Walking down the ramp and back around towards the command pit, he looked at Commander Belire Kazlaf, their chief science officer and second officer. “How are we doing, Belire?”

“All stations and departments report ready for the full handover to the shipyard, commander,” Kazlaf answered from her anti-grav chair. “Jayshon reports that the warp core is being powered down now, and Ethav is going through the final procedures to hand over computer control.”

“Excellent,” Thaustin said, nodding in appreciation. “I’ll speak to the yard supervisor about how long we will be docked for.”

“Jayshon said the battle damage to the hull and the starboard power coupling would take several days. Plus the amount of stress we put on our transporters, they will need a massive overhaul.”

Thaustin sighed. “At least we are in safe harbours.”

The Elaysian woman nodded. “Indeed,” She passed him a PADD. “The entire crew has been granted full R and R while we are docked. Everyone is expected to get off for a few days, at least a week by the looks of things.”

Thaustin took the PADD and started to skim its contents. “Great, I’m sure not worrying about the Dominion for a little while would be a nice change before we participate in the Frontier Day celebrations.”

“Any idea what we will be doing?” Kazlaf inquired. 

“Something to do with the Odyssey, Themis and the rest of the fleet in some new computer system,” Thaustin replied. “That’s another new system that I know the engineers will work on while we’re here.”

“Shall we just ask them to replace every system on the ship?” Kazlaf asked sarcastically.

Thaustin chuckled a bit. “That wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

“Any news on when the memorial for the captain will take place?” Kazlaf checked to ensure anyone else was in earshot before asking. 

The young first officer sighed. “Fleet Captain McCallister is going to liaise with Starfleet about that. He’ll keep us posted.”

“Understood,” Kazlaf said. She pushed a button on her chair to move forward and then paused. She turned around. “Thaustin, you don’t need to bear the entire weight of her loss on your shoulders. I’m here to help.”

The young Xindi man smiled at her and thanked her for the offer. He appreciated it and definitely appreciated the change in their science officer. Ever since Canção had died, Kazlaf had changed. Her bluntness had almost diminished. Her curt responses to junior officers were vanishing. Her stern demeanour had softened. This was a new side to her, one that Thaustin had yet to meet. That all said, Thaustin had never had an issue with her himself. Whether it was because he was the first officer and she held some respect for him and the position he held, or she only remained the way she was with those subordinate to her because she preferred the distance with those that worked under her.

Nevertheless, the change in her personality was welcomed and needed at this point in time with the crew. Thaustin returned to his chair, sitting to the right of the captain’s. Again, no one had bothered to sit there since the death of their former captain. Not even McCallister. He had opted to stand in front of it and go from one station to another—a more hands-on approach. Thaustin didn’t know if this was his leadership style or if he was still showing respect to his predecessor (if temporary). Either way, just like Kazlaf’s change in personality, it was greatly received by the crew. 

Thaustin took one more glance around the bridge. Though his crew were professionals and securing the ship since it docked was a relatively easy one, he could see they were all in pieces. 

”Then make sure you come back in one piece.”

His final words and request to his captain continued to reverberate in his mind over and over again. If only he insisted more. If he had protested more. If he had done something to stop her from going on that away team, then she would still be here. Alive and preparing to enjoy the Frontier Day celebrations, showing off the Triton in all its glory to the rest of the Federation.

“Well, hello, stranger,” Doctor Uknare said warmly. “It’s not like you to visit here so often.”

Counsellor Naef-Oron nodded; the giant, bulky Brikar lieutenant stepped into sickbay, bowing his head to avoid hitting the doorway. “Good day, doctor,” He said in his deep voice. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

“Naef, you are always welcome here. You know that.” Uknare responded as she gestured for him to move with her from the central surgical bay towards the private confines of her office. “Can I grab you something to drink, a coffee, or…no, wait. I know what you want. A kava juice?”

Naef-Oron smirked. “You know me too well, doc.” He nodded in acknowledgement and followed her into the office. The door gliding shut behind him. 

After getting their drinks, both officers sat in the two armchairs opposite where Uknare usually sat behind her desk. “So, what’s this about, Naef?”

The counsellor rubbed his firm chin before answering. “We were both on that away mission when the captain didn’t come back; I wanted to see how you were doing.”

Uknare sighed before sipping on her iced raktajino. “I’m coming to terms with the whole thing. It just happened so fast, Naef. I keep wondering if there was another way we could have saved the colonists and the captain.” She leaned forward and pulled her desktop console around to show the contents on the screen. “I have to admit I’ve been researching into long-term use of the transporters on biological matter, attempting to understand the science of purging non-biological matter to biological matter. Seeing if there was a way we could have separated the life signs of the colonists from the metagenic weapons being stored in the buffers with them. I keep hitting a brick wall.”

“Maybe there isn’t,” Naef-Oran consoled her. “You said it yourself, metagenic weapons are so unstable, and at that moment on the Dominion ship, we were under too much pressure to have time to consider and explore all options.” 

“Maybe, maybe not, who’s to know now,” the doctor sounded defeated, starkly contrasting her mood when he first entered. “Did I tell you I served with Rio before the Triton?”

The counsellor shook his head. “No? How come it has never come up over these last few years?”

Uknare smirked and shrugged. “I don’t know why.”

“So, come on, you have to tell me more,” Naef-Oron insisted.

“It was on the Oxford, a Sovereign-class ship and one of earlier postings. I was initially the assistant chief medical officer before I got a battlefield promotion and a raise to the chief medical officer role. My superior had died during a battle in the Kalandra sector, and while I was fixing a broken arm that Rio had sustained, she made the decision there and then.”

“Didn’t you come from the Oxford to the Triton?” Naef-Oron asked. 

The Haliian woman nodded. “I did; the chance to serve on such a diverse crew was appealing. In fact, Rio, who was at the academy, encouraged me to apply. Don’t get me wrong, when Captain Brenn took over from Rio when she left the Oxford, he did a great job, but I suppose as she gave me that chance, I always felt I owed her one to listen. When she took command of the Triton three years ago, I was more than happy to stay.”

Nodding in agreement, the counsellor sipped the Bajoran juice drink. “I get it; she was impressive. I met her at a cultural anthology symposium on the Debrune. I presented a small research article I did about possible Debrune behaviour patterns based on archaeological discoveries from other races we believed were associated with them. After my presentation, she spoke to me for over three hours about the subject matter. She then offered me a job on the Triton.”

“She knew her history,” Uknare agreed. “That was her true passion, knowing more about what was buried underneath every planet we discovered that was teaming with life.”

 The two professionals stopped their conversation momentarily to reflect on their former captain’s life.

“Once we know what is happening to her memorial, we should share these stories with others,” Ukanre suggested.

“That would be a fitting tribute to her,” Naef-Oron agreed as she raised his glass of drink to hers, lightly tapping them in honour of their fallen captain.

Though they had never ventured into the torpedo bay before, Ensign Andar felt as though they were entering a strange new world. Its decor was the same as every other room on the ship, though this time, the amount of ordnance slightly started Andar. The Phylosian had never been so close to so many quantum torpedoes in their life.

“Lieutenant Lonar, are you in here?” Andar called/chimed out. The vibrations coming from their voice almost sounded song-like.

The young Cardassian woman appeared from behind a stack of torpedoes, “Oh, hi, Andar,” She answered in an almost sad tone. “What can I do for you?”

Andar slithered across to where Lonar was. “Lieutenant, have you forgotten our plans?”

Blinking a few times, Lonar then realised what her friend was referring to, “Oh, Andar, I have. I am so sorry!”

Lowering their red-eye-like bulbs to show their slight disappointment in her forgetting, Andar nodded their head, and an almost rustling noise was made. “I understand, but you were keen to take me to a carrot bar?”

Chuckling somewhat at their mispronunciation, Lonar corrected her friend. “A karaoke bar, carrots are something completely different,” She shared before sighing. “I’m sorry, Andar. I suppose I was all wrapped up overseeing the last ordnance survey that I didn’t check the time.”

“There is still time to go,” Andar stated. “If you still want to go, that is?”

Lonar considered the notion for a moment. “You know what, Andar, I think I will.”

“That is acceptable.” They replied. “However, before we go, would you like to discuss what distracts you? What are you considering in such a deep reflection away from your colleagues?”

Lonar gave some thought to Andar’s questions. “Like a few others, I’m still not coming to terms with the captain’s death.”

“I understand,” Andar replied swiftly. “I, too, miss her presence and cheerful disposition. Her absence is like missing a branch from my family tree.” 

Smiling at hearing them speak of the captain in such a positive way, optimistic in the sense that Phylosians literally did have family trees where they grew from one another, Lonar felt a bit better. “She was certainly important to so many of us; I’m sure it will take some time to come to terms.”

“What type of terms do you require to deal with such a loss?” Andar asked sincerely. 

Lonar considered his question. “I’m not sure. I just know that it doesn’t feel right around here for me now. She was the one who gave me a chance, who supported my application to join Starfleet and who brought me into such a prestigious role for someone who is a Cardassian.”

“It has been over twenty-five years since the Dominion War ended, and the Cardassian Union has proven itself a worthy ally of the Federation, especially in the recent conflict; why do you still feel apprehensive, lieutenant?” Andar probed.

“Politically, you may be right, Andar,” She sighed, “but personally, it has not always been easy for me. I grew up in the former dematerialised zone where it was easier to be a Cardassian among Federation citizens; we were almost seen as equals. But away from that, it’s a challenge. Captain Canção was like a safety net for me. She had my back, she encouraged me, she sustained me, she was precious to me.”

“She was undoubtedly unique,” Andar added. “I recall taking one of her classes while at Mellstoxx campus; she was very intelligent.”

“I’m sorry, Andar, I promised you an evening out, and instead, here I am moping around about the captain,” Lonar said, deflated.

“It is understandable; she died on the same away mission you were on, but she knew what she was doing,” Andar insisted. “And she would want you to carry on the journey she started for you; that is how you honour her sacrifice, and that is how you carry on.”

Lonar looked at them, smiled and then nodded. “You’re right, Andar. You are spot on correct.”

“Then honour her by joining me in this karaoke bar!” Andar insisted.

“I will,” She was now smirking. “And we will sing until we cannot sing anymore.”

“That sounds delightful to me,” Andar said before they wrapped themselves around their friend to give her an assuring embrace.

After materialising on the transporter pad, Captain McCallister was surprised to see Commander Thaustin waiting for him.

“Thaustin, there’s no need for a welcoming committee. I’m not that type of formal captain,” He said with a warm smile. Upon his arrival, McCallister strode confidently off the platform and onto the Triton, his luggage hoisted over one shoulder. Though he had just returned from a refreshing vacation in Hawaii, he remained attired in casual civilian garb. His simple yet tasteful ensemble consisted of a plain short-sleeved shirt, three-quarter-length grey trousers, and comfortable black sandals.

Commander Thaustin looked imposing in his uniform as he stood tall. The Xindi man had a concerned expression etched across his face. “Sir, you have some visitors waiting for you in your quarters.”

Surprised to hear he had guests, Captain McCallister wondered who they were and why the commander appeared worried. He indicated for Thaustin to walk with him. “Why the look of concern?” He asked as they stepped out of the transporter room. “Who are they?”

Thaustin shrugged. “That’s the issue, sir; we were ordered by Starfleet Command to prepare for two visitors. They just beamed directly to your quarters, and we were told to deactivate the internal sensors. We have no idea who they are and what’s with all the secrecy. It’s all off the record too. Only I know they are here.”

Upon hearing that, McCallister knew where this was going and told his first officer not to worry and that he would catch up with him later. 

Eventually, McCallister strode into his quarters. No lights were on, so he dumped his gear by the door and walked over to the replicator when he entered. Knowing his visitors were waiting for him, he ordered for himself and them. “Raktajino, hot and two teas with milk, hot.” He turned around with the two teas in his hands. “Computer lights on, lock the doors, and activate a level ten force field around my quarters.”

The room became a lot brighter, the sound of the doors locking and a force field being erected was heard just before his two visitors were revealed. 

“Hello, Horatio,” spoke Commander Karyn Reyas. McCallister’s sister-in-law, who was meant to be dead or living in an alternative future, sat at the circular-shaped dining table with McCallister’s other guest. Karyn Reyas looked stunning (as she always did). She wore the Starfleet science field jacket indicating her rank of commander along the collar. The leathery jacket made her look edgy. Almost intimidating if you didn’t know her. Her lustrous, dark brown hair had been twisted and secured into a neat bun atop her head. The El-Aurian scientist gave him a warm smile as he put the raktajino down beside her. “Thank you.”

McCallister then gave the other tea to the man beside her. Wearing a black blazer with a rolled-up collar jumper of a similar colour, he was someone that McCallister had met only a few times and was the man who was responsible for his brother’s field promotion to captain. His piercing blue eyes were nothing short of captivating, even with the crow’s feet wrinkles beside them. This was complimented by the impeccably styled hair, which was kept neat and tidy. Though its once black colour was fading away and the grey and white highlights were appearing, the man exuded both dashing and elegant qualities. He was truly one of a kind. He was Fleet Admiral Luke Robert Duncan. The former Fourth Fleet Commanding Officer that had apparently died over two years.

“Thank you, Captain McCallister,” Duncan grunted as he took the tea. His thick British accent came through. “Please pass on our gratitude to your first officer for keeping our visit off the records.”

Sighing heavily, McCallister dropped into the spare chair. He knew this visit was done in secrecy for a reason. What that reason was, McCallister had no clue whatsoever. He looked at the admiral. “When we met before I headed to the Delta Quadrant, you told me you had discovered another displaced officer,” He pointed to his sister-in-law, “It took me some digging and speaking to one of my old colleagues to find out who it was.” McCallister looked at her. “It is good to see you, Karyn.”

Reyas smiled at him again before squeezing his hand. “Likewise, Horatio. How did you find out it was me?”

McCallister was about to answer in full but stopped himself. Instead, he answered it in much simpler terms. “Let’s just say I owe my contact several bottles of Aldebaran Whiskey. However, there were rumours you both were seen at Athan Prime and recently here at Earth in Hawaii.” He smiled at her. “James and the boys will be thrilled when they see you.”

“Not yet,” The admiral interjected quickly. “We still have too many unanswered questions about why we and others have been captured in the last couple of years and replaced.”

The young captain sighed. “So why are you both here?”

“We’re not any closer to finding out what’s going on besides knowing something may happen tomorrow during Frontier Day,” Duncan revealed. “We thought it was best you were brought into the know.”

“Well, that’s truly helpful. You’ve come to tell me nothing,” McCallister said sarcastically. He shook his head as he tried to come up with a solution to the mess he found himself now a part of. “Surely revealing yourselves to someone at Starfleet would be helpful if you don’t know what has happened or will happen?” 

“You’ve lost your edge, Captain,” Duncan countered. The experienced officer shook his head and leant forward slightly. “No, going to Starfleet Command won’t help us. We believe that Starfleet has been compromised, and there’s no knowing who we can trust.”

McCallister rolled his eyes and leaned back further in his chair, almost like a teenager close to throwing a tantrum. “And you say I’ve lost my edge.”

“Listen, Horatio; we’ve been following the breadcrumbs left by our imposters to see what they were trying to achieve,” Reyas said in a more open and sharing tone. “We’ve only got so far with our investigations, and the moment we think we’re getting somewhere, we find ourselves hitting numerous dead ends.”

“What do you mean?” McCallister asked. “Can you give examples?”

“First off, the imposter who was me faked my death. Where I was buried, there’s no body laying in my grave,” Duncan answered. “The only follow-up we have found is a clue linked to the Delta Exploration Initiative’s work in deploying long-range communication buoys.”

“Well, those aren’t no state secrets. The Bellerophon, Odyssey, Themis and Triton were all involved in that as it was shared on the Federation News Network,” McCallister said, dismissing that lead. He looked at Reyas. “And what about your imposter?”

“The only work we could find that they were interested in was to do with artificial wormhole creation and data related to the Paulson Century Storm,” Reyas explained. “Whoever was trying to be me, I think, was trying to use the storms to generate some sort of subspace corridor, perhaps a transwarp conduit, but got the science entirely wrong. Instead, they created the temporal anomalies that Odyssey encountered.”

“Are you referring to the chronokinetic surge that hit the Odyssey and splinted it into different timeframes?” McCallister asked before he realised they weren’t sure if he was meant to know about it. “Oh, don’t worry; I was sworn in under oath to know about it in case anything happened while we were in the Delta Quadrant that could bring back that alternative future in sync with our timeframe. Department of Temporal Investigations told me and Canção as they believed both Bexa and James would attempt to either deal with it or avoid it. Either way, they wanted one of us to stop them from interfering with the timeline if something did happen.”

“Well, yeah, I’ve still not quite understood the science behind it, but basically, they got it wrong, and their actions caused the surge and further temporal anomalies during that event,” Reyas stated. “We also think they may have been behind the recent Lost Fleet appearance, but we’ve not got enough evidence to prove that one due to the Starfleet cover-up.”

“Wow, and after all of this time, you both still have no idea who is behind this?” McCallister asked them.

Duncan winced at the lack of evidence from their work. “Unfortunately, Captain, they are too good at covering up their tracks and hiding in plain sight.” 

“Unlike you two,” McCallister countered back.

“What do you mean?” Duncan quizzed him, sounding a bit worried they were in trouble.

“Well, along with finding out what you’ve been up to recently, I also discovered who has been sending interference to the Odyssey and its squadron, along with other ships in the Fourth Fleet,” McCallister said before heading over to his belongings and pulling out a PADD. “I know you had a hand in the orders to remove all of the civilians and cadets off from the Odyssey and its squadron upon our return home from the Delta Quadrant.” He looked at Duncan. “How did you get that one past the top brass?”

“I was the top brass, remember,” Duncan said with a smirk. “Also, it turns out this imposter is still using a variance of my clearance codes. So I just piggy-backed onto them.”

“Ingenious,” McCallister said before returning to his seat. “So, I take it whoever that person is, didn’t like your orders, and that’s why the civilians and cadets are returning?”

Reyas sighed. “Yes, unfortunately. We were hoping to keep them out of harm’s way.”

“Then why not go to James with all of this?” McCallister asked his sister-in-law. 

“Because we think he may have been replaced, too,” Duncan answered for her.

McCallister snapped his head straight away at that news. “Seriously? What makes you think that?”

“We think several of the Odyssey’s senior staff have been replaced; James’ recent requests for promotions for a number of them have been approved. We think they may use that influence and level of access in some way.” Duncan replied. “We can’t take the risk of tipping their hand that we know.”

McCallister took a moment to finish his tea and then wiped his chin. “So what can be done? It just sounds like there are many ifs and possibilities – no certainties.”

“Unfortunately, Horatio, that is the case,” Reyas sighed.

“The only certainty is tomorrow, and something will happen during Frontier Day. We need to be prepared.” Duncan remarked. 

After a moment of silence, McCallister stood up. “You know what, this is exactly why I walked away from S.I. There were too many headaches when people were assuming too much.” He walked over to the other side of the room. Starring out of the window, he wished he could be on the Bellerophon and far away from all of this mess. Turning back to his two visitors, McCallister hated knowing what he now knew. “Alright, let me check in with my crew, and I’ll see if I can dig anything else about your suspicions about James and the Odyssey.”

“Horatio, if you can find a way to save the boys-” Reyas started but was stopped by him waving a hand at her.

“Yeah, I know the drill. You want me to get them out of harm’s way. I’ll do my best.” McCallister promised her. He turned to the admiral. “There is someone you’ve not mentioned about approaching from the Odyssey.”

“Who?” Duncan asked.

“Your son, Max,” McCallister challenged. “Or has he been replaced too?”

Fleet Admiral Duncan rested back in his chair, considering his response carefully. “I thought about it once, back when I heard he got married and now has kids, but I feel I’d been introducing a possible unstable element to a critical situation. How can I be certain he is who he says he is?.”

“I’m sorry, Admiral, but that’s ridiculous!” McCallister replied. “You sound more like Admiral Picard than Admiral Duncan.” 

“Talking of which, there are rumours that Picard has gone off the rails, and we think it’s to do with the same issues we’ve been trying to get our hands on,” Reyas remarked.

“Then let Picard deal with it,” McCallister urged them. “In the meantime, if you both wish to stay here, then do, but you both need better disguises than what you’re wearing. I get the whole hide in plain sight, but this is ridiculous!”