Captains Log. It’s been 41 hours since we evacuated the Amundsen in an effort to avoid destruction or capture at the hands of the Breen. The first few hours in this ghost town of a colony were tense as we geared up for an assault from the Breen. That assault, thankfully, never came. Planetary sensors are offline, along with most everything else here minus emergency power and some climate control, so we have no idea if the Breen captured the Amundsen and absconded with it or if they arrived, found nothing, then left. Even the shuttlecraft and runabout sensors are having issues. With each passing hour I doubt that there a possibility of them still lurking in orbit, but we’re cut off from the outside world. I can only hope that Starfleet search parties arrive quickly but in the mean time I have the crew focused on fortifying our position and getting restoring function to the colony’s systems. If we can at least get basic sensors online I can verify that there no enemy vessels nearby and send the runabout to retrive help. With the ion storm only 5 hours away from delivering a glancing blow to the planet, we have to do everything in our power to prevent any further damage. Once that crisis has passed we can focus on the question that is ever present in all our minds: what happened to the nearly 800 people who lived in Archi? The small area we have explored so far has yielded no information, no bodies and no signs of a fight. Something happened to the colony and this planet and I’ll be damned if I don’t find answers.

“Captain!”

Clara turned to face the doorway of the colony administrator’s office that she, Demar, and Conklin had been using to coordinate efforts. It was cramped but about the only place that offered a little privacy. The figure of Broheth approached quickly; he was a picture of a stereotypical engineering officer during a crisis: covered in some grease or dirt and wearing only his uniform undershirt. 

He paused in the doorway, catching his breath. “I think I finally have some good news. I think I’ll be able to get some of the main power systems back online in the next few days. I still can’t figure out who or what tossed a pile of tubes in the tornerth soup and gunked up everything however I was able to hotwire a fix with some of the less important power systems. I can get us some lights, better climate control, and maybe some local building sensors by the end of the day tomorrow.”

Clara did her best not to chuckle as a chill from the cold room ran through her; sometimes the translator didn’t get species-specific idioms quite right and always made her smile. She’d also be grateful for a little more heat in the building. “Thank you Mr. Broheth. Any chance of getting main power online anytime soon?”

The Bolian grimaced and sat down. He’d spent hours trying to find the root cause of the power failures but kept coming up empty. In theory, everything should be working but the fusion power cells refused to charge despite not having anything wrong with them. “No, not yet. I can’t pinpoint a reason either but we’re working on it.”

Clara sighed and leaned back in her chair. What Broheth, and most of the crew, did not know was that Conklin had found some non-Federation computer programming buried deep in the computer core this morning. There was an all-crew meeting scheduled for 19:00 tonight and she’d hoped Alex would find a few answers before then. “Very well. Keep at it and if I have any new updates I’ll pass them along at the senior staff meeting before our crew meeting tonight.”

The Bolin stood, nodding as he did so. “Aye, ma’am.” He paused in the doorway. “One last thing, right before the ion storm hits the planet, I’ll have to shut down all power systems for about an hour while it passes by. Can’t risk anything else happening.”

Clara nodded as another shiver passed through her. “I’ll be sure to find another blanket.”

[2 hours later]

Geden sat down in the chair with a sigh. He’d spent the last 8 hours trying to access other parts of the central colony complex but had little to no luck; doors that had no power or were locked blocked him every inch of the way. They had access to most of the main administration building and power plant, but little else. He rubbed his face; exasperation settling in. How did he always end up in these half-assed situations? All the psychologists that Starfleet had thrown at him had tried over and over again to convince him that ‘Being in Starfleet means facing challenging situations and you have to adapt to that.’ Perhaps he was just too jaded, or the PTSD from that first mission so many years ago on Vexer hadn’t faded as much as the doctors said it had, but it was hard not to see that as a line of bullshit. Ships named Enterprise, Voyager, Excelsior, and Defiant were supposed to encounter crazy things while everyone else spent years studying gaseous anomalies and making first contact with alien species that had barely mastered warp drive. That was what he wanted: mundane, happy, content. Anxiety had started to curl in the pit of his stomach, like a viper ready to strike, over the last day and it was getting harder and harder to keep it at bay.

The sound of the door opening distracted him from the darker thoughts that had begun to worm their way inside the Trill’s head as Captain Myers walked in, Commander Conklin right on her heels. The expression on both their faces made it clear that good news wasn’t coming.

Geden watched as Conklin sat down opposite of him, PADD in hand. 

“It seems we have a bigger issue than previously thought.” The blonde man tapped a few buttons on the PADD. “I think I’ve uncovered the origin of the non-native computer code that I found in the core.”

Geden glanced at the Captain, assessing the near grimace on her face. “Not good I take it?”

Clara shook her head. “Nope, not at all. It explains why the Breen were on their way back here though.”

Conklin gave the Trill a small smile as he handed the PADD over. “It could be worse; at least it’s not Borg code.”

Demar took the PADD, saying nothing in response to Conklin’s effort to lighten the mood. Tapping the down arrow on the PADD, he skimmed through sentence after sentence, the anxiety coiling tighter and tighter in his stomach. He spent a decade as a science officer; it wasn’t hard to see where this was going. He got to the bottom of the PADD, reading the final sentence of the report, the viper of anxiety that had coiled so tightly in him finally striking. 

He looked over at Myers, eyes wide. “What the hell do we do now?”

Chief Science Officer's log, supplimental. It's been nearly a week since I uncovered the non-native code in the computer core. Well, I guess virus is a more apt description than code. The Captain made the decision to keep the information among the core command staff until more answers were found. Five days later and I don't have any answers. At all. It's not like Stafleet ships haven't encountered this type of code before but I'm not excatly well versed in this sort of thing and I don't excatly have access to Starfleet Science's database out here. At least Lieutenant Commander Broheth set us up to weather the ion strom well and was then able to get a few more systems going and get us access to some more space; I think the crew enjoys being able to spread out a bit but nerves are geting frayed. If we don't have some progress soon it isn't going to be pretty.

The door slid open and an exhausted Clara Myers walked into the room, sitting down with a grunt. Alex had served with her for nearly a decade and had never seen her more worn out than right now; even after that diplomatic bungle on Treena IV. He trusted the woman with his life and would follow her into the gates of hell, should the ship be sent there, but he was questioning the need to keep information so close to the vest. The senior staff knew something was up, the crew knew something was being held back, and no matter how many times she would lecture him that ‘Starfleet has procedures for this sort of thing’ it didn't change reality: the crew was entering it's second week in this place and something needed to change. Fast.

“I've called a senior staff meeting. It's time they knew what is going on.”

Alex cocked an eyebrow. “I feel like I need to ask if you are hiding Betazoid relative in your family tree somewhere because I just had the thought that it was time the crew knew.”

Clara shrugged, offering him a weak smile. “I think we can determine help isn't coming anytime soon, nor is anyone lurking out there. We're stuck on some backwater planet in the Deneb Sector while Starfleet picks up the pieces of what, hopefully, was a victory in the sector. You haven't been able to dig anything up or get rid of that damn code. It's time to change our trajectory.”

Alex crossed his legs, leaning back in the chair. He couldn't argue with her. He needed help getting the virus out of the computer systems; Commander Demar had tried to help but the two hadn't exactly seen eye to eye on the matter. Demar didn't see eye to eye with many people, it seemed. “You will get no argument from me, Clara.”

A soft hissing sound worked its way through the room as the door opened, the senior staff walking into the room. Every one of their faces showed the stress they were facing except for T'Keu, who just maintained her normal stoic expression. He was thankful for that. If she had walked in with a frazzled expression on her face he would have assumed their situation was hopeless and started scouting out someone to build a cozy house. 

Clara gestured to the small table. “Please, sit. We'll make this brief.” Once the assembled officers had taken their seats, Clara turned to Alex. “Please send out the data to everyone, Commander.”

Alex nodded, navigating through menus on the PADD until he found the transmit option. “Going out now.”

“As you will all see” Clara began “Commander Conklin identified non-native code in the colony computer database. I'll let him speak to the details but it's very clear that many of the problems around this place, the damping field included, are a result of this. Doesn't explain where all the colonists went too but it's at least a start.”

V'Rel's ear twitched, a soft growl coming with her words. "You're not serious. This can't be correct. This is some backwater planet at the ass end of nowhere."

Alex watched as the left corner of Clara's mouth twitched upward into a small small for a quick second. “Commander Conklin assures me it's correct and both Demar and I agree. Ladies and gentlemen, you are looking at a T'Kon computer virus.”

V'Rel tossed the PADD back onto the table, T'Keu cocked her eyebrow, Kellen looked like he was about 2 minutes away from actual tears, and the rest just looked done with the entire situation. 

Alex glanced at Clara. “If it's ok with you Captain, I'd like to go over a few things with everyone.” He paused for a moment and continued once he got a nod of approval from the Captain. “The Captain is correct, the code in the computer system appears to be T'Kon in origin. My best assumption is that once it was introduced into the computer system it took over all primary functions, locked everything out, and started running its own program. Perhaps in an effort to defend itself, perhaps it thought T'Kon soldiers were on the way and it softened things up for them. I won't know its purpose unless I have access to whatever triggered it.”

Brex raised his hand slightly. “Where did this T'Kon programming come from? I don't think anyone would just show up with it.”

Alex sighed. He'd asked himself that question a million times but had yet to find any hard evidence. “I don't know. My best guess is that the colony was expanding or digging around for whatever reason, stumbled onto the remnants of an outpost or crashed ship, and activated something that shouldn't have. That's usually how we find T'kon, Iconian, Preserver, and every other ancient piece of tech.”

T'Keu cleared her throat. “That would be the most logical answer. We do not have access to much of the complex; it seems likely the T'Kon technology is located in one of those sections. The Federation has strict rules regarding what to do when T'Kon technology is found. The most likely hypothesis is that they inadvertently activated whatever they found and had no time to counteract it.”

Broheth skimmed down to the bottom of the PADD, eyes still glued to it. “That would explain why I can't get 75% of the systems around here to work correctly. If this program views us as a threat, it's done a good job of locking us off. I tell the primary fusion generator to activate and charge the batteries up and it just sits there and does nothing, not even an error message.”

Alex watched as Kellen gripped the PADD with an iron grip. The young officer was going to give himself a small heart attack if he didn't take a deep breath.

“I'll just say it. Did this program somehow kill the colonists? Trap them somewhere?”

Clara gave the Ensign a soft smile. “That sort of speculation is premature. We've been here over a week and nothing has tried to kill us yet so we can't assume the same thing happened to them. We will uncover what happened to everyone here but first, we must secure our own safety and get a signal out for rescue. Starfleet will send in the cavalry, secure the planet, and lock off whatever T'Kon tech there is to be found.”

Kellen nodded. To Alex, it didn't seem like the Ensign was any more relaxed than he was before but he did at least release his iron grip on the PADD.

“To that end, we're going to get more aggressive in our efforts.” Clara tapped at the screen of her PADD for a few moments. “All engineering and science teams will work in staggered 12-hour shifts to work on cracking the virus or finding a way around it and getting systems online. Mr. Brex, any of your ops officers who have the training to assist science and engineering will do so. The rest will assist Lieutenant Commander T'Keu in security operations. T'Keu, I want security patrols increased and a perimeter formed around the area we've already explored. We're hunkering down. I am not risking anyone stumbling on more T'Kon tech.”

“Yes ma'am. May I also suggest we institute a buddy system with the crew? With T'Kon technology there is a substantial risk that someone could be injured or inadvertently discover dangerous technology.”

Clara nodded at the Vulcan. “I agree.” She turned to Kellen. “I have a special mission for you, Ensign.”

The blood drained out of the Ensign's face. “Ok.”

“At this point, it's safe to say there will be no Breen attack coming.  You and Lieutenant Nemiah are going to take the runabout and seek out help. Get up into orbit, make sure the coast is clear, maybe check on the Amundsen, and get the hell out of the system. As soon as you can send a signal, do so, then make best speed for a nearby Starbase.”

Kellen nodded, some of the blood coming back into his face and he realized he may actually get out of this place. “Yes ma'am. We'll get it done.”

Clara tossed her PADD onto the table. “Alright people, let's get this done and get the hell off this planet.”

Chief Flight Control Officer’s log, supplemental. Lieutenant Nemiah and I are close to solving the issues we ran into when we booted the systems back up on the Norge. We’ve seen no evidence that the T’Kon virus, or whatever it actually is, made its way onto the Runabout but when we tried to power up the warp core nothing happened. Whatever damping field that seems to be affecting almost everything here is also affecting the fuel system on the Norge. Thank god Commander Broeheth and Lieutenant Nemiah are as skilled as they are because I’m all but worthless when something breaks. It sounds like we’ll be up and going shortly and I, for one, am grateful to be off this damn planet. Each hour I spend here makes me wish more and more that I had accepted that posting as a shuttle pilot on Sol Station instead of this ship. Screw the whole ‘explore the galaxy and see the wonders of the universe’ thing; that’s just marketing jargon for ‘get shot at, maybe die, or maybe get marooned for weeks on a starange planet.’

“There!”

With a loud thunk as the deuterium canister slid into place. Lieutenant Commander Broheth grinned, clearly feeling rather triumphant. “Try starting the warp core up now.”

Lieutenant Mariah Nemiah spun around in her chair, fingers tapping away at the console before her. “Opening magnetic interlocks, opening matter/anti-matter fuel line.” Her eyes were glued to the display; they had tried this over a dozen times already and each attempt had failed. This time, however, broke that steak of bad luck. “Reaction chamber online and showing stable. Plasma is flowing to the nacelles.”

Broheth clapped Nemiah on the shoulder. “Good to know I can at least get something around here fixed. I don’t suggest hanging around though.”

Mariah nodded. “I agree sir. Are you ready to depart Ensign Erith?”

Kellen turned to her and nodded. “You have no idea how ready I am to be off this rock.”

Broheth let out a chuckle, turning towards the runabout door. “Best of luck to you. Hurry back; there are more than a few of us who would love to get out of here too.”

The door closed and sealed with a hiss as the Bolian left the craft. Kellen turned back around, quickly beginning the pre-flight checklist. “Inertial dampers online, deflector systems showing normal, thrusters and impulse systems at standby.”

Mariah plopped down in her seat with a sigh, eyes glancing over the screen. “Warp systems online, shields and weapons online.”

“Alight, let’s do this.” Kellen ran a finger along the thruster controls, the runabout slowing lifting off the ground. He used his other hand to manipulate the altitude controls, the runabout pointing up towards the sky. A few seconds later the impulse engines kicked up and the craft glided up into the sky.

“Positive rate of climb, we’ll break the atmosphere in 2 minutes.”

Kellen looked over the readouts. Everything looked normal, much to his relief. It was hard to shake the feeling that the planet had another trick up its sleeve and the runabout would suddenly fall back to the surface. Thankfully the planet had no such trick prepared and 2 minutes later the clouds and blue of the planet’s atmosphere gave way to the pure black of space.

Marah reached up and triggered the sensors to kick in, keen on making sure there wasn’t anything hostile around. To her relief, scans came up empty. “No signs of any Breen or Dominion ships on sensors.”

Kellen shrugged. “After all this time, I’d be shocked if they were hanging out up here.”

Mariah’s brow furled. “I’m not reading much of anything nearby. I was kind of hoping something was still lurking out here; it would explain why nobody has come looking for us.”

Kellen’s shoulders tensed. The thought had crossed his mind as well. If enemy forces were still nearby it would explain the lack of a rescue but all that was out there was empty space. “Well, it is Frontier Day. Perhaps everyone is glued to their screens watching Admirals make fancy speeches.” It was both a poor excuse and a poor joke, but he had hoped it would lighten the mood.

“Shit, I forgot it was Frontier Day. The days just run together at this point.”

“To be honest, unless the ghost of Johnathan Archer himself shows up to make a speech, it isn’t something I’ve been eager to see.” He tapped a few of the controls, swinging the runabout around. “Let’s see if the Amundsen is where we left her.”

Sure enough, the silhouette of the Rhode Island class vessel came into view. The exterior showed heavy damage from the battle but didn’t seem to suffer any extra external damage from the ion storm.

“I’m reading extensive internal damage. Emergency power looks like it is online but the EPS network suffered heavy damage from the ion storm. Looks like it blew out across 4 decks; no way she’s going anywhere without help. I doubt life support is even working.”

Kellen sighed. “Commander Broheth did say that was probably going to happen; not like we expected to be able to go back to the ship.” He pushed the impulse engines to full power and pointed the runabout away from the damaged ship. “We’ll be clear to jump to warp in 88 seconds.”

“I’m still not able to get a comm signal out of the system nor is there anything coming into the system. I guess Commander Conklin was right, it was something on the planet blocking the signal and not the Dominion.” Mariah pecked at the display in front of her, queuing up a general distress call to go out the moment the interference cleared up.

“Jumping to warp in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.” The Runabout’s nacelles powered up, glowing a bright blue before the ship lept to warp. Kellen squinted his eyes for a moment before they adjusted to the bright blue of the warp field outside the large windows. “We are holding steady at warp 5.”

As expected the comm interference cleared up the moment the runabout was out of range of the planet. Mariah noted the small, pulsing, orange light on the console; indicating that the automated distress signal she set up had been triggered. “That’s odd.” she mused as another signal rapidly came in, overriding her ability to hail anyone else.

A metallic, almost grinding noise, came over the speakers. Kellen felt a sharp pain in his temple; he let out a hiss of pain as his hands moved up to cradle his forehead. The pain did not ease quickly. He felt what only could be described as tendrils snake through his head; the pain easing as his brain went into panic mode, dumping massive amounts of dopamine and endorphins to calm his panicking nurons. At the edges of his consciousness, he began to hear whispers, warm touches of something. The pain began to back away as the whispers grew in strength. 

In what was likely one last, panicked, reaction by his brain to hold on to his own identity, he could feel memories bubble to the surface. 

He was five years old. He had asked over and over again for the puppy that waited for him under the Christmas tree. Joy burst from him as he walked down the stairs, the wiggling from the golden retriever puppy almost too much for his mother to control. The warmth of the licks on his face and he embraced his new best friend.

He was eleven years old. The room was dark despite the sunny day. The coffin at the front of the room is draped in flowers, a bright blue flag bearing the symbol of the Federation fluttering lightly at the edges in the airflow of the room; the flowers were beautiful but at the moment he wasn’t processing it. The numbness that had persisted in the weeks since his sister’s death had yet to abate. It wouldn’t for weeks. Once it did he would vow to honor her by taking up the mantle she had left behind: being a starship pilot.

He was 16. His day had been tangled up in school finals; he had to ace finals if he wanted to get into Starfleet Academy. Now, at the end of the day, he sat outside, the soft sand of Alki Beach underneath him. The anxiety of school had dissipated but a new anxiety had replaced it. Jason sat cross-legged across from him, knees just barely touching. Light blue eyes, like the sky on a bright autumn morning, freckles sprayed across his nose, curly red hair framing his face before it stopped at his shoulders. It looked soft and he wanted nothing more than to find out if that was true. They’d tap danced around their growing feelings for weeks, as teenagers often do the first time they experience this, but now there wasn’t any more tap dancing to be done. Lips met, hands tangled in hair that was indeed soft, warmth spread through his chest, the spark of a sweet teenage romance beginning. 

He was 22. The stage was immense and so was the amphitheatre. It had to be to hold that many brand-new Ensigns. He stood up on the stage with the rest of the new flight control officers, organized in alphabetical order with the precision that Starfleet was known for. He spotted his parents in the crowd. His father held onto his mother as tears ran down his cheek. They finally got the moment they were denied when his sister died. He looked up, smiling at nothing in particular. I did it, Sarah. We can finally fly together.

The memories that flashed by in a matter of seconds only delayed the inevitable. The voices grew louder and more comforting. He could hear her. The comforting voice welcoming her children to their new home. The chorus of thousands of his brothers and sisters joining her. It was perfection. 

He turned to face Mariah, phaser already in his right hand. He didn’t hear the gasp she let out as she saw his face; the tendrils of assimilation worming their way across it. 

“We are Borg. Eliminate the unassimilated.”

–Archi Colony–

Lieutenant Jetua tapped at the buttons on the tricorder, trying to get it to interface with the panel in front of her to try and get the door open. Like almost everything on this planet, it had been an effort in futility so far. No matter what he did the T’Kon virus that infested the computer systems compensated. This was the fifth attempt to open a door that led to a new section and the fifth failure.

She turned to her companion for the day, Ensign Kerrit. “This one looks like it’s a bust. I’ve got one more trick to try  then we’ll move onto the last one.” She turned back to the locked door and focused on the tricorder.

“Are all you humans this way? You never recognize when you should just give up and move on.”

The words didn’t register with her right away but she turned to look at him. “What did you say?”

The ensign in front of her rolled its eyes. “Typical. You creatures are as ignorant as ever. You don’t deserve the Alpha Quadrant.”

Jetua arched an eyebrow, confused as to what was going on. She looked Kerrit over. His eyes were glazed over, skin flushed and sweaty. He was leaning against the wall as if he was out of energy. “Kerrit, are you ok?”

Its eyes narrowed and glowered at the women. “I will be better when humanity has submitted and the rightful rulers of the Alpha Quadrant are in control.”

She opened her mouth but her voice caught in her throat as she saw Kerrit’s arm out of the corner of her eye. It rippled under the bright lights in the hallway, black uniform giving way to a deep golden color. It would have only taken her 6.3 seconds to shift from getting ready to talk to screaming but that was a few seconds too many. 

The ‘arm’ of the Changeling shot forward, wrapping itself around the woman’s neck. In moments the start of her scream died away as her larynx and trachea were crushed under the force of the attack. The Changeling released her neck and the body of Lieutenant Preda Jetua hit the floor with a soft thud. 

It allowed itself to return to its true form, relief spending through it as it shed its ‘solid’ disguise. With minimal effort, it slipped into one of the vents at floor level. It may have been cut off from its brothers and sisters but Frontier Day was finally here and nothing would stop it from playing its role in what was to come.

Chief Science Officer's log. Commander Demar and I will be spending most of the morning in the computer core attempting to boot the core up. I worked until nearly 0100 in the morning to come up with our own computer virus that would counteract the T'Kon virus or at least partition it in some remote corner of the colony's computer core and allow us to take full control. I have some confidence that with help we can do it today. Commander Demar isn't the most enjoyable of people who be stuck in a room with most of the day but as a former science officer with almost two decades of experience, he knows what he's doing better than most people in my department. It's such a wonderful way to spend Frontier Day but at least the Captain planned a little get together for tonight so everyone can blow off some steam. It's pretty much just a speech and evening off from figuring out this place but I'll take what I can get.

Alex sat back down at his console, placing the warm cup of coffee next to him. He wasn't particularly fond of hot coffee, cold espresso drinks were more his speed, but they didn't have the luxury of a functioning replicator right now so he would happily get his caffeine intake this way.

He glanced to his left, eyeing Commander Demar. The man had barely spoken a dozen words to him in the two hours they had been in this room and one of those words was a blunt ‘no’ when he had asked if Demar wanted any coffee. The Commander was a curious individual. He refused to interact with most of the crew beyond his required duties. Even now he sat with his back to Alex, shoulders tense wholly focused on the task at hand. Alex didn't do well with people like that; he was often a chatterbox and it got even more awkward and chatty when he was alone with someone who didn't want to interact. 

He turned his attention back to the console. He had managed to deploy a counter virus with no issue but the T'Kon virus quickly adapted. There was so little they knew about the T'Kon beyond how powerful they were and that power was becoming very apparent. He had done his best to ‘dumb it down’ in the hopes that something simple and more basic would be able to evade detection. It had partially worked, they gained control of lights and some other basic environmental systems, but everything else was still locked out. The original plan was for the virus to section off or block it into noncritical areas of the computer core, like the lighting systems, so they could move in and get control of the critical systems. Sadly, that failed. The T'Kon programming caught on quickly and moved to put up additional safeguards around the critical systems at the expense of less critical systems; hence why they could turn the lights on and off but still couldn't access the comm systems or take down the damping fields.

Alex rubbed both eyes with the palms of his hands. “I feel like this is getting us nowhere. We need access to the T'Kon control center but we have no idea where that is because we can't access anything outside of the administration building and colony environmental services building. To access anything else we have to lift the damn lockdown, which increasingly looks like we can't do without across to some actual T'Kon tech.  It's a damn circle that can't be broken.”

Silence sat in the room for a few moments before Demar answered. “That is likely correct.”

Alex waited a few more moments to see if anything else would follow. When it was clear nothing else would be said, Alex dropped the PADD in his hand onto the table with a clatter. “Commander, this is going to be out of line but at this point, I'm not exactly worried about a reprimand in my file. What is your issue? Is it with me? This rest of the senior staff? You've been damn near silent since we set foot on the ship, you walk around with a sour expression 24/7 and don't interact with anyone outside of your official duties. Even Lieutenant Commander T'Keu is more social."

Alex watched as Demar's shoulders tensed up even more, something he did not think was possible, as a tense silence filled the room. He'd stepped in it more than a few times with superior officers before but this was one of the few circumstances where he didn't care. 

Demar did not turn to face Alex before speaking. “Do you want an honest answer, Commander? It's because I do not want to be here.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Yes, none of us want to be here. This situation is awful.”

This time Geden turned to face the other man, his face taught and lined with tension and frustration. “No, you fail to understand. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be on this crew, I don't want to be this ship's executive officer, or any ship's executive officer for that matter.”

Alex arched an eyebrow. His mind had come up with a few possible answers but this wasn't one of them. “Forgive my bluntness Commander, but if you don't want to be on this crew, then why are you? Starfleet does give executive officers some leeway with assignments. You could have said no.”

Geden let out a low chuckle. “No, I did not have that choice. Good executive offices are given leeway; the ones that don't perform to Starfleet's oh-so-lofty standards are told where to go, to sit down and shut up, and be happy about it. You can surmise which camp I fall into.”

Alex let out a soft sigh. It still was not adding up; there were always options. “So you just sit around and be grumpy as hell all the time? Why not ask for another ship or leave the command department? Resign? Something?”

Alex watched as tension and frustration rippled across Geden's face. “Because, Mr. Conklin, this is my third posting as an XO. If I am dismissed from this posting by yet another Captain then I will be shunted off to some backwater science outpost until I retire.”

“Would that not solve your problem?” Alex said, waving around his hands for emphasis. 

“No, no it would not. It's the same reason I can't simply resign and go back home with my tail tucked between my legs and beg for some professorship at a university. I am a joined Trill; the expectations of my people are high. A ‘mundane’ life is not acceptable as a joined Trill. We must do more, push the boundaries of our knowledge, and enrich our lives so that when our memories are passed down to the next host they take the best of what we were. This is drilled into our heads from the day we begin our training with the symbiosis commission; we are the best of the best and the expectations laid upon us are great.”

Alex paused for a moment. He was, after all, looking from the outside in at another society. Of everything he knew of Trill culture, they were an open and kind people. It was true that the few joined Trill he had met were often leaders in their field or had otherwise excelled at their chosen field but he'd also met some that worked by day and went home to their families at night. It was hard to shake the feeling that the other man's views were warped by the situation and the unhappiness he was wallowing in; now was not the time to challenge those views however. 

“I see.” Alex began. “Those levels of expectations would be difficult, to say the least, and I don't know your history with Statfleet but all I can say is to at least give this posting, give us, a chance. I have known Captain Myers for many, many years. She is a kind, patient, women and while she expects your best on her ship she will do what it takes to help mold you into a stellar officer, no matter your rank or position. It's your choice but I suggest you embrace the opportunity.”

Alex watched as the lines on Geden's face relaxed for a brief moment before the tension came rushing back. “Thank you, Commander. I will take that under advisement." With that, Geden turned back around.

Alex sighed. He hadn't made a fool out of himself, so that was something. Hopefully, he'd broken through the Commander's wall just slightly.

Both their comm badges chipped at the same moment, the voice of Captain Myers coming through the small speaker. “All senior staff are to report to the location being sent to your tricorders immediately. No exceptions. Myers out.”

Geden and Alex shared a glance as they got up; another complication must have reared its ugly head.

The door slid open with a hiss, Geden entering the hallway slightly ahead of Alex. 

Geden let out a deep sigh as he caught sight of the dead woman on the floor. Dr. V'Rel hovered over her, tricorder in hand, as she ran a forensic analysis."

“Do we know what happened?" Geden muttered softly.

“When the Lieutenant failed to report in I attempted to locate her by visiting the location she had been assigned to for the day.” T'Keu looked down at the body. “I found her like this. Her partner, Ensign Kerrit, is nowhere to be found. I have teams looking for him.”

Clara turned to Geden. “There are no signs that she triggered any security systems nor are there any signs of anyone else aside from Kerrit being here.”

Broheth and Brex were huddled together in the corner of the hall looking through the Lieutenant's tricorder. “Tricorder is clear, she was actively scanning the computer interface for the door until the tricorder was dropped.” Offered Broheth. 

Geden let out another sign. “So the first thought was this was intentional.”

“Yes." replied T'Keu matter of factly.

“I've got some traces of organic residue on her neck. I'm trying to get an ID on it but it's hard to read.” V'Rel tapped the tricorder a few taps before her eyes widened. “Shit." She held it up for Myers to see.

Geden watched as the color drained from Myer's face. “Commander Demar, I want the entire crew assembled in the main lobby immediately. T'Keu, I want guards stationed at every exit of the main lobby; nobody out once the crew is assembled. If anyone tries to escape, stun them. Doctor, I want every single member of the crew blood tested.”

A chill went down Geden's spine and settled into his body. He didn't need to look at the readings on the tricorder to know what those small traces of organic matter turned up.

“Get moving ladies and gentlemen.” Clara paused for a moment. “We have a changeling on the loose.”

Geden stood next to Myers at the front of the room. The 90 crew members had been lined up, starting with the senior staff, as V'Rel administered blood tests to everyone. After the Captain had announced a security incident and blood tests were required the entire crew instantly knew what had occurred. The tension in the room was palpable. It was hard to avoid considering each crew member had to stand next to a security officer armed with a phaser rifle while their blood was extracted.

The final crew person, Petty Officer Schmidt if Demar remembered correctly, stepped forward and V'Rel pressed the hypo to his neck, a few seconds passed before red fluid filled the small tube. V'Rel held it at eye level and after 60 seconds, she put it with the rest of the small tubes of blood.  Schmidt hurried off to join the rest of the crew that was milling about in the large room.

“It's blood, like all the rest,” V'Rel muttered. “We're still not able to find Kerrit but I'm going to assume that they have a way around the damn test. Every officer underwent a blood test during their physicals when they came on the ship.”

Demar crossed his arms. “We have to assume the Changling is in the building; it has to have an ulterior motive if it stuck around this long. Otherwise, it could have easily slipped away in the night the last few weeks.”

Alex sighed, leaning against a pillar. “I mean, what agenda could it have? We're stuck on the planet in a colony where we can't access 98% of the buildings.”

“Trust only the Fourth Fleet.” Clara muttered as it all started to click into place.

“Ma'am?” Brex inquired.

“Fourth Fleet Command highly classified our orders and came with a usual warning at the end: trust only the Fourth Fleet. I didn't pay it much mind until we got held up at the fleet yards and then once we arrived here it was the last thing on my mind.”

“So, it's possible Starfleet knew something was going on with the Changelings?” Bree crossed his arms. “That seems like an important fact to leave out of a briefing.”

“It would be logical to assume that the commanders of the Fourth Fleet had suspicions about something, considering the nature of the warning.”  T'Keu offered. “Perhaps the Admiralty of the fleet itself is unaware?”

“Or Starfleet is compromised,” Alex said, glancing around the circle of officers. “It would help explain why we haven't been rescued yet; Starfleet just doesn't shrug their shoulders and go ‘Oh well, guess they got lost somewhere.’”

Demar arched an eyebrow. “That seems like a rather extreme assumption.”

Myers held up a hand. “Assumptions get us nowhere. We focus on the here and now and the fact is we have a loose changeling. Let's run through the options.”

T'Keu was the first to speak up. “In theory, we could attempt to stun the entire crew and whoever can resist the stun effect would be the changeling. However, that would be a rather extreme solution.”

The rest of the senior staff eyed the Vulcan wearily.

“Yes, it would be." Demar said with a slight tone of exasperation. “Do we have access to any of the security systems?”

Broheth twisted his torso slightly and opened up a computer panel. “Limited. Very limited. I could trigger a fire emergency, which would seal all the doors in the room and I could, in theory, pop up a weak forcefield around an area to 'contain' a fire.”

“That's better than nothing if we can't figure out who it is. The crew is starting to reach their breaking point already; we can't keep them locked up in this room.” Demar glanced out across the crowd. The tension and fatigue were visible on their faces.

“Agreed.” Said Myers. “Instead of having a buddy system we'll have everyone triple up, armed at all times, and we get more aggressive in fixing this. We'll start blowing open doors if we have to. Hopefully, Ensign Erith will be able to find help but if there is something larger going on we can't count…..”

A shrill scream from the back of the room interpreted Myers; the senior staff whipping their heads towards the sound.

A man in a gold uniform that Myers didn't quite recognize had one arm around Petty Officer Lugh's neck and the other hand had a phaser pointed at her head. Myers immediately walked toward the back of the room, the crew moving to each side as she walked forward; the rest of the senior staff stayed still except for Broheth as he typed commands into the console.

“Release her. Immediately."

The Changeling let out a barking laugh. “Arrogant as always. You solids are always predictable.”

Clara placed her arms behind her back. "We may yet to surprise you; we've picked up a few new tricks since the last time your kind paid us a visit."

It smirked. “We've been here far longer than you think and solids have changed very little. You perpetuate chaos and destruction and try to just ignore the consequences when it all goes wrong. The greatest failure of my people was our inability to bring order to this quadrant.”

Myers stiffened slightly but did her best to hide it. Here for far longer? Just how long and how many? “Your version of order was unacceptable; freedom tends to be preferable to control.”

The smirk changed to a sneer. “How has your version of order worked out? One of the planets in your home system still burns. An empire shattered as hundreds of thousands died after you turned your back on them. How many colonies on the outer rim of your mighty Federation have fallen prey to raiders and pirates because you're too scared to even attempt to control your empire? The Dominion at least took care of its subservient races; you can't even manage that.”

Myers narrowed her eyes. “Your definition of ‘taking care’ of those under your control involved terror and the Jem'Hadar. We've never controlled through terror or fear; the last decade may changed our priorities but it has not changed who we are.”

“Oh, Captain, my brethren and I will happily discuss what you solids are truly like. It's a tale I think you'll love considering the torture you've put my people through.”

“This discussion is getting us nowhere.” Myers quickly turned her head back towards the front of the room, taking a few steps back. “Broheth, now!”

The Bolian twisted his torso around and slammed his hand down on the control panel. In milliseconds a loud, ear piercing, klaxon sounded as the doors locked shut. The Changeling, having so expertly recreated a human body, winced as well. It was just enough. Lugh's foot rose in the air before slamming down onto the Changling's foot, providing her with just a few seconds to get free.

She moved away quickly enough to avoid the Changeling grabbing her again and to avoid the small forcefield coming down from the ceiling as the system tried to contain the ‘fire’.

The klaxon shut off as Myers took a step forward, a smile on her face. “As I said, we have a few tricks up our sleeves.”

The Changeling glowered at Myers, tapping the side of the forcefield that contained it. “This doesn't matter. I don't matter. After today, everything changes.”

Myers took another step forward, anger bubbling up. She'd had enough of this. Few front-line officers remembered the Dominion War; most were behind a desk at this point. She could recall nearly every battle she'd taken place in. She remembered, with a clarity she hated, the first time she had to reach out to a family after the first officer under her brand new command had died. 

“Enough!” She barked. “I know your people love to speak in riddles but I don't have the time or patience to indulge you any further.” She reached over, grabbing a phaser rifle from the security officer next to her. “We've been stuck on this damn planet for weeks now all because you all decided to rear your heads after more than a decade of peace. What the hell is the point of all this?”

“I owe you no explanation.” the Changeling spat out. “Today marks the end of your precious Federation. Today she emerges from the shadows. You can not stop what has begun. As we speak, Earth is under assault and will so be ours.”

Clara's thumb pressed on the power control of the phaser rifle, the small indicator screen shifting from green to yellow, to a deep red. “This is your final warning Changeling. Why are you here?”

The Changeling let out an almost giggle. “For such an evolved people it doesn't take much to turn you into the monsters you claim we are. I'm answering none of your questions. You don't frighten me. Soon her song will reach even here and there will be nothing you can do."

Clara opened her mouth to answer but before she could speak the hum of one of the two remaining shuttlecraft reached her ears. The crew turned to look out the large bay window on the west side of the building to see the shuttle's nacelles glow blue as it began to rise before accelerating.

The entire time the Changeling has been giggling softly. “Did you think there was only one of us? Thank you for indulging me in this conversation so that the others could depart and fulfill their mission.”

Clara turned back to the Changeling, fire in her eyes that slowly drifted to horror as she watched the 'skin' of the Changeling begin to bubble, its sick giggle continuing. The creature lost cohesion as it reverted to its gelatinous form except it continued to bubble and turn a dark ashen color as it disintegrated. 

“Alex?” Clara called out. It only took moments for the science officer to reach her.

The Tricorder chirped loudly as it scanned over what was left. “It's dead, or close to it anyway. That's a new trick though; I don't remember the Academy teaching us about that.”

At this point the rest of the senior staff has walked down, joining the Captain and Chief Science Officer. The rest of the crew stared ahead at the dead Changeling, some whispering among themselves.

Brex was the first to speak up. “What do we do now?”

Clara lowered the phaser rifle, handing it back to the security officer. “We're getting off this damn planet.” She turned and faced the crew. “I understand that the last few weeks have been challenging. Nerves are fraying. We've been trapped in this small corner of the colony, held back by an ancient computer program we barely understand, with no contact with the outside world. You all have performed admirably under the conditions but we can no longer follow the proper protocol and tip-toe around this. If what this Changeling said is true, Starfleet and the Federation are facing a grave threat. It is our duty to respond to that threat. We can't do that if we're stuck here, waiting for a rescue that will likely not come on its own. Take 30 minutes to breathe. Collect yourself. Once you have, report to your department heads.”

She turned to Demar. “I want a way off the planet in the next 36 hours. I don't care if it's the cargo hold of a Pakled freighter; get access to the computer and find someone. Break up the crew into groups with each sensor staff member leading the groups. I don't care if you have to overload phasers to blow up doors. Do what needs to be done.”

“Aye, ma'am.” Demar nodded and turned to the rest of the senior staff. “You heard the Captain, let's get ready and get the job done.”

For eight hours building after building had been forcibly broken into. The computer program, having complete control of the security systems, did its best to stop them but there was only so much it could do as the crew started phaser blasting open doors. By hour five the engineering building, which housed the power systems for the colony, had been found and breached.

Captain Clara Myers stood in front of the lower fusion power generator, Lieutenant Commander Broheth at her side, a rather large grin on his face.

“That's an ambitious plan, Commander.”

The Bolian nodded. “Aye, ma'am, it is. I've talked with Commanders Conklin and Demar and both agree they can work fast enough to contain the T'Kon program once the backup power generator kicks in.”

Alex rounded the corner, face buried in a PADD. “He's correct ma'am. It will require Commander Demar and I to be monitoring the computer core and backup core, but I think it's our best shot.”

Clara sighed. She wanted to resist the idea and find a safer solution, but she had said it best in her orders to find a way off this planet in any way possible. The plan was to shut down the power plant by inducing an overheating scenario. The core would shut itself down and 90 to 180 seconds later the backup power systems would boot up to provide power. In those precious few seconds T'Keu and Brex, along with their respective teams, would physically sever the ‘cable’ connection between the main core and the rest of the system, causing the backup core to take over when power was restored. The moment the backup core came online Demar and Conklin would upload their counter-programming into the backup core before the T'Kon programming kicked back up and, if things went to plan, contain it to non-essential systems. 

It required perfect timing and left no room for mistakes but she didn't see another quick option. The T'Kon programming was well beyond anything they knew and brute force was about the only option they had. Staying here and waiting for rescue was not an option; it was clear now that something had happened with Starfleet. Under normal circumstances they would have been rescued weeks ago; the Changeling hadn't given up all its secrets but Clara had little doubt something horrific had happened. The crew had done their best to put their minds to the task at hand but nerves were fraying, and people were scared. It was only a matter of time before someone did something rash.

“OK, let's get it done. How long will it take to prepare?"

Broheth shrugged. “From an engineering standpoint, we're ready now.”

Alex looked up from the PADD. “Demar and I still have some work to do, mainly changes to our virus to shore up the firewalls it'll put in place. It'll take us an hour, maybe two?”

Clara nodded at the man. “Get it done.”

“If we isolate the main components of the virus in memory blocks C-11, D-88, Q-332, and H-2134 while putting firewalls around all of blocks A and B, I think we'll be able to keep it isolated.” Alex turned away from the computer screen. “It exposes a lot more of the secondary systems but that might keep it occupied, so to speak.”

Demar let out a sigh. “That is a solid plan but I'm concerned with giving the T'Kon virus that much to work with. We're talking about letting it have control of lighting, most of the heating system, the replicators, and half a dozen other things.”

“The more subsystems that we let it run amok in, the less resources it'll dedicate towards breaching the firewalls around the primary systems.” Alex shrugged. “Maybe.” The truth was they didn't know if they would work; it was just the best shot they had. Even if it only lasted for minutes, they would still be able to get out a distress call at the bare minimum.

Demar's shoulders dropped; he didn't have it in him to disagree or come up with some other plan. “It's our best option. I'll take blocks C and D if you'll take Q and H.”

Alex nodded, turning back around, and tapping at the console with intent. Gedan paused for a moment. He felt compelled to apologize for his rather abrupt and cold behavior before. He never handled these sorts of intrapersonal situations well; hence why he usually tried to avoid most social situations and keep his mouth shut. He also was deeply unhappy with his Starfleet career and the entire situation and even though humans often said ‘misery loves company’, in Geden's case, his misery enjoyed being by itself.

“Commander Conklin, I want to apologize for my abrasive tone in our discussion earlier.”

Alex turned back around to face the Trill. “Oh. Well, I don't think you need to apologize. We're in a stressful situation and…” Alex paused, searching for the right words. He didn't want to make it seem like he was calling his superior officer socially inept and unable to handle the stress of the situation, even if it was a tiny bit true. “it just came out a little harsher than intended. Plus, I was the one pushing you to answer personal questions.”

Geden searched his brain for the right words. “That is a fair point but it was still rather inappropriate of me to respond the way I did.”

Alex shrugged. “No offense taken. Let's work on getting off this rock and say you owe me a drink once we get somewhere that serves drinks.”

He wanted to push away the offer of a social event, find some excuse, but at every counseling session he'd had over the last 24 months he was pushed to break out of the shell he'd put around himself. Conklin at least seemed social enough and if it went poorly he could at least say he tried.  Geden offered the man a small smile. “I think I can survive that.”

Alex returned the smile, a small part of his brain registering that Geden looked far more handsome when he smiled and turned back to the console.

Broheth turned to the Captain. “Commanders Demar and Conklin report ready. We're clear to go here as well.”

Myers nodded, tapping her comm badge. “Myers to T'Keu and Brex, we're ready on our end.”

T'Keu's voice was the first to be emitted from the small speaker. “Security teams are posted at all exit points and all crew not involved in the effort to restore control are contained to the main hall. The reaming teams stand ready to sever the computer core connection. I have no concerns about moving forward."

“Neither do I.” Said Brex. “I have ops personnel spread out with the security teams to assist with any issues that crop up.”

Clara turned to Broheth. “We're ready to go. Cut the power when you're ready.”

Broheth turned to the control panel in front of the fusion generator. “Alright, let's break it to fix it. Simulating an overheating situation.”

Clara watched plan was set into motion; alarms going off in the room.

“Alert. Alert. Fusion plant overheating is in progress. Evacuate the room for your safety. Shutting down the fusion plant in 15 seconds.” Droned the male voice of the computer.

At precisely 15 seconds after the announcement the power cut out, leaving the entire complex in darkness. In the computer core, several lights that had been brought down from the ship during the evacuation had bright beams of light focused on the physical ODN lines that ran from the computer core. Within moments of the lights cutting our four phaser beams hit the physical ODN lines, severing them in seconds. 

In the power plant control room, a soft whirring sound sped outward as the backup power plant came online. Emergency lights came on across the colony administration complex as backup power was restored. In the computer core, a soft alarm began to buzz as the primary computer core was not powering up. To compensate the power systems redirected power to the backup core, and small lights along the case began to illuminate as the power built up.

“It's powering up.” Demar's hands were already dodging an intricate tap dance across the now-powered console.

“Deploying our virus.” Alex held his breath and he uploaded their own ‘virus’. His eye darted back and forth as he watched the lines of code spread into the system as the core booted up.

“Damn it.” Demar mumbled. “The T'Kon virus is already present in the backup core.”

“We just need to be faster.” Alex's fingers did an elaborate dance on the panel as he tried to keep up. “It's working. I don't think we can get everything we want but I'll focus on communication and sensors.”

Demar watched as other man worked his magic; lines of code flying across the screen. It only took a few minutes of tense waiting before he turned to face Geden, a triumphant grin on his face.

“We did it. I had to let it have control of the environmental systems but it's contained.”

Geden looked at the control panel in front of him; it lit up with options for the comm system and internal and external sensors. He turned back to Alex, returning his grin. “You're the one that did it, not me. If you hadn't worked your magic and compensated, we'd be back at square one. That was…brilliant.”

A flush passed across Alex's cheeks. “All in a day's work, sir." He tapped his comm badge. “Conklin to Myers, we were successful. We have control of sensors and communication systems. We've lost control of a few things that might make things interesting but not dangerous.”

“Excellent work Commanders. Report to the main hall.”

Clara walked over to the console near her, opening up a general hail. “This is Captain Clara Myers of the Federation starship Amundsen. We are stranded on the planet Beol II and require immediate evacuation.” 

Roughly 45 minutes later the senior staff, along with the rest of the crew, had congregated in the main hall. There had been small ‘malfunctions’ ever since the system reboot, such as the lights flashing in an odd pattern every 7.3 minutes, but so far the virus had yet to cut anything vital off.

“It looks like our rations will last up another 48 to 72 hours. Did we regain use of the replicator systems?” Clara glanced over the PADD; supplies were starting to dwindle.

“Yes and no." Broheth offered. “We can use them but I can't guarantee anything it puts out is safe; the T'Kon virus has access to some of the back-end replicator systems.”

“With sensors online, we can look at native wildlife and plants.” V'Rel held up her medical tricorder. “This will tell me all I need to know when it comes to things being edible; provided T'Keu's teams can hunt whatever lives in this place.”

“I can assure everyone my security teams will secure wildlife with maximum efficiency.”

The senior staff eyed the Vulcan yet again; both nervous and slightly relieved by her statement. 

“Thank you, Lieutenant Commander. With any luck it won't come to that.” As if on cue the console at the center of the table began to beep.

“That would be the long-range sensors.” Alex reached towards the center of the table and a holo map of the sector came up, a small dot growing closer to the Beol system. “They are moving fast; I'd say 90 minutes?”

Geden focused on the sensor data at the bottom of the holo display. “I don't think the sensors can make out whether or not it's a Federation ship.”

Clara leaned back. “We'll find out in a little over an hour.”

The center console chipped once again to signal the arrival of the starship in the system. Clara leaned forward, tapping in a short series of commands. A small circle appeared next to the blip of light that was moving past Beol IV as the seniors tried to read the transponder of the starship; moments later the familiar Starfleet delta appeared next to the dot.

Most of the senior staff let out of small sigh of relief; bodies physically relaxing as weeks of tension melted away. 

Alex scanned through the sensor data. “Showing as the USS Yozora. Dunderstadt Class.”

The console chipped, the approaching starship hailing them. Clara opened the channel, clearing her throat.

“This is Captain Anna Caldwell of the Federation starship Yozora. We have received your distress call and entered the system. Gather your crew in one location and standby for security teams to beam down. Yozora out.”

Brex looked around the table. “Security teams? Did we break the rules by getting stranded?”

Broheth shrugged. “Seems prudent; if we had a couple of Changelings hanging out on our ship, who knows how many other ships and bases had them crawling around. I would guess the fleet is on high alert.”

“That is a reasonable assumption. I will speak with the security teams and have them disarm to avoid any potential issues when the Yozora's teams beam down.” T'Keu stood. “Any further orders, Captain?”

“If any of the rest of the crew is still armed, please make sure and collect their phasers from them.”

T'Keu nodded at Myers and left the room. Clara leaned back in her chair; it seemed obvious that something had happened in their absence. A slight chill spread across her. She had hoped the Changeling had been lying; that it was all some elaborate rouse to save its skin. The thought had been foolish but with everything that had occurred so far it had been hard to let go of it; especially considering she had sent Erith and Nemiah out on the Norge to secure help. She had no idea what hell the Federation had been put through this time but the wait for answers was nearly up.

“The Yozora has entered orbit. They're running a high-intensity scan for some reason.” Alex looked around the table to see if anyone wanted to offer an explanation but none came. “Now they are just sitting there.”

“Probably wondering why the hell they are picking up T'Kon tech.” Muttered V'Rel.

“Add that to whatever the Changeling's are doing or have done and they have a right to be suspicious.” Demar looked over to Clara. “This may not go well.” 

Clara raised her eyebrows before letting out a sigh. “I can't say I didn't think the same thing. Especially since they'll find the remains of a Changeling.”

The console at the center of the table chirped. “Transporter signals incoming.” Brex looked over the display. “Lots of transporter signals.”

The familiar whine of the transporter system filled the area as over a dozen security teams beamed down, the blue columns of light depositing them in mere seconds thanks to the new transporter systems on the Yozora. The teams had beamed in around the outer perimeter of the room, circling the assembled crew, with phaser rifles charged and pointed at the crew. 

A Bajoran woman in a security uniform stepped forward. “Nobody moves until scans have been completed. Where is your commanding officer?”

Clara stood up and cleared her throat. “That would be me, Captain Clara Myers. And whom would you be, Lieutenant?”

“Introductions can and will wait. How many of your crew were assimilated? Have then been cordoned off?”

A murmur went through the crowd at the mention of assimilation. “Lieutenant, I am afraid I don't follow. None of my crew has been assimilated; there is no Borg presence on this planet. Other things, yes, but we did not find Borg.”

The Lieutenant eyed her with suspicion. “That's impossible. The Frontier Day signal reached this system; you had to have had crew be assimilated.”

Clara's face hardened. Something had happened. Something horrific. “There has been no signal reaching this planet or leaving for weeks. Now, Lieutenant, my patience is at an end. My crew and I have been stranded here for weeks and when help finally does arrive, it's at the end of a phaser rifle. Get me your Captain. Now.”

“Treab to Caldwell. Location is secure but you're going to want to beam down and meet with their Captain; they don't know about Frontier Day.”

A long silence greeted them before Caldwell's voice came over the comm. “Noted Lieutenant. I'll be down in 15.”

Clara sat the PADD down softly; the full details of the Frontier Day attack sinking in. Even in her darkest nightmares, she never would have thought something like this could happen. She could hear soft sobs, light gasps, and even bits of silence as the news was given to the crew. The entire counseling and medical staff of the Yozora has beamed down to speak to the crew in small groups.  

“How many did we lose?”  

Caldwell shrugged lightly. “We don't know yet. It'll take weeks to get a full accounting of the losses but it'll be in the thousands. We lost a great deal of our most experienced officers and hundreds of ships have been damaged either in the attack on Sol Station or in some of the fleet yards that were in range. We're under emergency protocols for staffing and resource management. Last I heard it would be a decade before Starfleet fully recovered but it'll take a while before we can make that determination.”

Clara crossed her arms and almost sank into her seat. “All those lives lost during the Dominion War, decades of recovery, only for the Federation's two greatest enemies to sneak in right under our noses. How did this happen?” She wasn't asking Caldwell in particular; it was more a question she wanted to shout into the cosmos even though it would offer no answer in return. 

“Ideas differ.” Caldwell was at least willing to try and give some sort of answer. “We have Admiral Picard's reports, along with the crew of the Titan, but Picard hasn't had many friends in Admiralty these days. I've heard there are a couple of different camps, the isolationists and those who favor a return to a more traditional Starfleet, and they each blame each other. We lost so many senior officers too; it's just a scramble to fill vital positions. That's what we need to get you off the planet and back home; you and many of your crew have a decade of service or more. That's not so easy to come by these days.”

Clara turned and looked out of the window. Light flakes of snow had begun to fall, coating the ground in a pale white. She didn't have any answers for fleet command right now. Her experience didn't give her a window into the problems Starfleet faced. She wasn't even sure she wanted to be around to try and stand among those of her peers who had been spared.

[Present Day][San Francisco Fleet Yards]

Clara let out a groan as she stood and walked over the the large windows in the office. It was a good view; Earth off to the left with the fleet yard docks filling the rest of the window. In the months since the crews' rescue from Beol II, she watched every day as the yard workers worked to repair ships damaged in the Frontier Day attack. At first many of the ships she saw were heavily damaged, missing massive sections of their hulls. Now the work had progressed to ships that had suffered less damage and there were even one or two of the smaller docks that were empty.

Somewhere out in the sea of ships was the Amundsen. Despite the ship's severe damage in the Jem'Hadar attack and ion storm, Starfleet Command ordered it repaired and put back into service. Ships were in short supply these days and the Rhode Islands were still considered current but it would take 16 months to repair the ship with the backlog all the fleet yards faced right now. She'd done her best to keep the crew together; most of them had been granted leave and a few, like Broheth and V'Rel, had returned to work to help in recovery efforts. Ensign Erith, who'd been found unconscious on the Norge, adrift several lightyears off their planned course, was still on medical leave. Nemiah had been found dead, killed with a phaser by Ereth after his assimilation. She knew reassignments would come soon but for now, they remained a crew. 

After a few weeks of being home, Starfleet had tried to force a promotion on her. She'd played hard to get, leveraging their near desperation to keep her crew together. She hadn't been tempted by the offer at all, especially after everything she'd been through. It wasn't often Starfleet offered a straight promotion to Vice Admiral but it was hard to see that as deserved. Yes, she had over 45 years of experience as an officer with 20 years in the center chair, but had they not lost so many she never would have been given the offer. It didn't matter anyway; Starfleet wasn't what she remembered it being. Too much had changed. She'd done her best to try and ignore the changes of the last decade or so; telling herself it was just a bump in the road and things would return to the days of old soon enough.

In hindsight, it was deeply ignorant to think that. The price had now been paid. She was part of the old guard, tired up in the belief that the galaxy was a wonderous place and the Federation stood at the forefront of exploration. Going where no one had gone before. Starfleet had changed. The Federation had changed. She no longer had a place in it.

She looked down at the PADD in her hand, a finger hovering over the SEND button but not quite able to press it yet. 45 years of a career ended with the push of a button. The harsh chime of the doorbell made her jump. She turned around, placing the PADD behind her.

“Enter.”

The doors slid open, Clara's eyes widening as she saw who walked through the door. Clara leaned against the side of the window. 

“Well, this is certainly a pleasant surprise.”