The turbulent, swirling mass of subatomic particles that formed the neutronic storm rolled through the vast expanse of space, washing over everything in its path. Any onlookers, safely out of the storm’s path, would likely describe it as beautiful and menacing as its purple hues danced around each other, intermixed with violent energy discharges that flashed along its leading edge.

Talarian Observation Craft Q’Nair (NCC-76991)

Standing on the bridge of the lead Talarian ship, Xindar looked at the viewscreen and what he could only think of as the maws of death closing on them. The neutronic storm had grown in strength over the last couple of hours after he had brought a small group of training vessels to the edge of their territory. He had intended to use it to test the young ones’ abilities to manage the ships, but that had ended when the storm impacted with a large comet, its contents unknown, had supercharged the storm and forced him to give the order to flee.

His eyes widened as he noticed the last ship in their formation began to slip closer to the storm. “What are they doing!?” he demanded as he opened a comms channel to the ship. “What is your status? You need to return to formation”. The system crackled to lift as the voice of the ship’s commander responded, 

“Sir, our engines have started to lose power. We are trying to compensate, but I am not sure we will be able to before the storm reaches us.”

Xindar grimaced as he looked at the storm, “We will send another ship to reach you and evacuate your….” but before he could utter another word, a bright flash of white lit up the screen as an energy discharge lept from the storm’s leading edge and struck the ship leaving nothing except a couple of pieces of debris.

He muttered a string of violent curses before turning to the helm, “We cannot continue to outrun this. Is there anything we can reach?”

The teenager looked at the sensors and then back at the commander, “Sir, there is a station nearby,” The helm officer paused as he rechecked his sensors. “Sorry, sir, but it’s the Federation Outpost Galen Alpha Four.”

Muttering to himself at the sheer bad luck they found themselves in, Xindar asked the youngster the status of their formal rival’s border outpost. If they could reach it in time, then they could survive this. With a confirmation from the inexperienced pilot that the station’s shields should be able to harbour them, Xindar ordered his training squadron to make way to it.

Outpost Galen Four would be their shelter. 

USS Columbia (NCC-76991)

Sat on the bridge, Commander Nelson was in deep thought as she read through the latest engineering journals from the Daystrom Institute. Engaged with the latest theories in transwarp technology, Nelson had dropped her focus on what was happening around her when there was an unusual beep from the operations console. It caught her off guard, and Nelson immediately looked up from the PADD in her hands. 

“Everything okay, Kudege?” She asked the operations manager.

Lieutenant Commander Alkos Kudege checked his console and then looked over his right shoulder. “Commander, we have a priority message from Starfleet Command coming through. It is addressed to the captain and yourself.” The Bajoran’s intrigued expression was plastered across his face.

Nelson nodded in response. “Send it to my console and the captain’s ready room.” She looked down, and after reading the message, she shook her dead in disbelief before standing up and making her way to the ready room. 

As Nelson made her way across the bridge, she gave out orders in a stern voice. “We have new orders, Lieutenant Starok; set a course for Outpost Galen Alpha Four. Lieutenant Niro, you have the bridge.”

Popping her head into the ready room, Nelson found Captain Corbin lying across on the corner sofa reading a PADD. The fact he was in a relaxed position showed how the entire crew were currently enjoying some downtime after completing their last orders ahead of schedule. 

“What is it, Liz?” Corbin asked.

The moment the door closed behind her, Nelson spoke up. “Rome, have you seen our latest orders?”

Corbin shook his head and pulled his desktop console closer to him. He looked at the message and then looked back at her. “I take it you’ve ordered us to get underway?”

She nodded. “We’re ready to go. Just give the word.”

“Make it happen,” Corbin replied and then he got up, doing his jacket up. “Assemble the troops, Liz.”

Twelve hours later, the Columbia dropped out of warp within visual range of the now somewhat battered outpost. Corbin sat in his chair between Nelson and Counsellor Merrindis as everyone on the bridge studied the status of the station before them.

“It looks to be intact, though that isn’t a surprise,” Lieutenant Commander Ortega said from the engineering station. “Their outer hull has received heavy damage, and I am detecting fluctuations across their power grid.” 

From the security and tactical station, Lieutenant Niro Seth-Rowal was looking down at his readings. “Sensors are detecting three, no four, Talarian observation crafts docked with the station. They appear to be damaged.”

“Number One,” Corbin began, “The distress call didn’t mention anything about the Talarians, did it?”

Nelson shook her head, “No, though it was partially degraded due to the storm. They may have included that information in the message, but it was lost in the storm. The trailing edge is likely going to cause some minor issues for the next couple of days.”

“Likely, but let’s check in with the station first. We have been at peace with the Talarian Republic for years; I’d hate for this to change anything,” Corbin said as he stood up and tugged on the end of his jacket. “Velesa, is there anything left off that storm we should be worried about?”

The Denobulan science officer shook her head. “No, it’s passed but is making its way through Talarian space.”

“Captain, there’s going to be a lot of injured people over there; we should get rescue teams over there,” Doctor Carrillion stated from where she stood beside Nero. 

“Agreed,” Corbin said as he turned to his first officer. “Number One, assemble away teams to secure the station, help the injured and determine what is happening with the outpost’s visitors.”

Nelson nodded. “Aye, sir. We’ll get multiple teams over there.”

In Play:

• This is our third mission for Columbia and is a straightforward search, rescue, and help storyline! It is also a nod to the famed TNG episode, Suddenly Human. We are going to deal with some unruly Talarian teenagers while trying to help those on Outpost Galen Four Alpha. 
• Outpost Galen Four Alpha is a Copernicus-class station. The outpost is located on the Federation-Talarian border in the same sector as the Galen colony (where the Galen border conflict took place).
• You can find more information on the Talarian on Memory Alpha. This article will help you understand Talarian traditions, customs, etc., when writing for them. 
• Each department will deal with one aspect of helping the outpost and dealing with the Talarian teenagers. Below are the department orders:
  • Command: the Talarian teenagers are causing havoc on the station; it will be the responsibility of the command to calm the situation down by mentoring them while the Talarians send a ship to pick them up. 
  • Operations: help repair the station and the Talarian ships. Work with the Talarians to show them how to fix their ship. 
  • Science: Treat those injured from the neutronic storm (mainly radiation sickness) – deal with the Talarians wishing to undertake the B’Nar ritual. Track where the storm came from and where it is heading, ready to update Starfleet Cartography. 
• Perhaps consider how a group of ensigns from different departments can work together to complete the tasks successfully. You could create a couple of Talarian teenagers you take under your wing (and hopefully do a better job than Picard did).

Ensign Samwell Bollwyn was sprinting through the bustling and narrow corridors of the Columbia, his heart pounding with urgency and his mind racing with thoughts of the impending crisis. The distress call from Outpost Galen Alpha Four had sent the entire ship into a frenzy, and Bollwyn found himself in the thick of it all. The sounds of boots pounding against the carpeted floors and chatter over the intercom were deafening, creating a sense of chaos and urgency. As he turned the corner, he was met with a group of crew members frantically running towards him, each with a look of concern etched on their faces. 

As a junior science officer, Bollwyn’s training had prepared him for many challenges, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight that greeted him in sickbay. The Talarians, their angular features contorted in pain, lay sprawled on biobeds, their bodies ravaged by radiation burns from the neutronic storm. Most of them had been treated in the station’s infirmary, but as the station itself had taken damage, Captain Corbin had agreed to take on a number of the Talarians. As a result, Doctor Carrillion insisted on calling on everyone with a level four medical training to assist. 

After a quick briefing by the head nurse on duty, Bollwyn approached the first Talarian cautiously, his hands outstretched in a gesture of reassurance. “I’m here to help,” he said softly, his voice gentle yet firm. He looked at the teenager, who remained in a solid, strong posture. He looked like a statue. 

The Talarian narrowed his eyes with suspicion and regarded Bollwyn with wary distrust.  “Human tricks,” he spat, his voice tinged with bitterness. “You cannot be trusted.”

Bollwyn’s heart sank at the Talarian’s words, but he refused to be deterred. “I’m not Human.”

“It does not matter; your captain is!” The Talarian countered back with.

“No, he isn’t,” Bollwyn replied. “He’s Betazoid, and I’m Ventaxian.”

“It does not matter; you are all the same.”  

With patience, Bollwyn opened the medical tricorder and continued his efforts to help his patient. His movements were slow and deliberate as he closed the tricorder and took out a dermal regenerator before he applied a soothing treatment to the boy’s burns. Once he was done, Bollwyn gave a friendly smirk to the Talarian, who only just laid back on the biobed and turned his back from Bollwyn. 

Moving on, Bollwyn took his tricorder and medical kit to the second Talarian, a slightly older teenager. Again, he attempted to be friendly, but the Talarian only watched Bollwyn’s every move with a wariness born of experience. As Bollwyn reached out to administer a hypospray, the Talarian tensed, his muscles coiled like a spring ready to snap.

With a sudden cry of defiance, the Talarian lashed out, his fist connecting with Bollwyn’s jaw with a sickening thud. Bollwyn staggered backwards, stunned by the force of the blow, as the Talarian screamed at him to get away.

“Stop! I won’t let you hurt us like the others!” the Talarian shouted, his voice filled with raw emotion.

Bollwyn raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, his jaw throbbing with pain. He motioned for the nearby security officers to stand down. He turned his attention back to the Talarian. “I’m not here to hurt you,” he said firmly, his voice tinged with empathy. “I’m here to help you, whether you believe it or not.”

Slowly, tentatively, the Talarian’s defences began to crumble, his anger giving way to a flicker of uncertainty. With a weary sigh, he relented, allowing Bollwyn to tend to his injuries with a newfound sense of trust.

As Bollwyn worked, he engaged the Talarians in conversation; the Talarian shared that he was only a year younger than Bollwyn. The older Talarian, whose name was Zorif, spoke of the harsh realities of life aboard their training ship, the fear that gripped them as they faced the relentless fury of the neutronic storm.

Listening intently, Bollwyn offered words of support, his voice a steady anchor in the storm of uncertainty. He had been in a similar position of uncertainty from Frontier Day. “It’s never easy starting out in space.”

“It is a beast that must be tamed,” Zorif stated with conviction. 

“That’s one way of looking at it,” Bollwyn said with a nod as he finished his work. “Are you hungry, Zorif?”

“I could eat,” Zorif admitted.

“Then once I’m finished here, why don’t you and him,” Bollwyn gestured towards his first patient, “join me in Ten Forward for something to eat.”

Zorif looked over to where Bollwyn was pointed at. “He is my brother, he is…” Pausing, he considered his words. “Grumpy.”

“Most teenagers are,” Bollwyn agreed with a chuckle as he felt the effects of the punch from Zorif on his chin. He nodded in approval and left his new friend to rest while he went on helping the others.

Matthys sighed in relief as the hot, soothing mud wrapped around his body like a warm hug. It immediately removed any hint of discomfort in his joints and helped the stress of the day melt away. He had once again borrowed some holodeck time credits from a science officer colleague. He owed a few people now due to having flown through his own rations.

Matthys’ job had been busy of late in sickbay as he assisted in caring for wounded but also dealing with some ill-mannered and stubborn teenagers. Truthfully, he barely had the desire to handle his job on a good day, but recent events made him avoid duties as much as humanly possible. He had managed to skip out a bit early on today’s shift and felt he deserved a moment to relax. There was the looming backlog of work, some of it of a group nature that he had been neglecting. Part of him had thought it best to get some of that done, but the desire to unwind had triumphed. 

“That’s the stuff,” he groaned and stretched as he closed his eyes and continued to embrace a private session in the mud baths of Parallax.

After entering the holodeck, Bollwyn looked around to find the one person he was on the search for. He couldn’t believe what he had entered. The entire environment looked like a pleasure palace. Eventually, his eyes caught his intended target, and soon, he stormed over. Like a bull in a china shop, there was no stopping him. “Clark, you owe me!” he called.

“Bollwyn?” Matthys had been so relaxed he had not even heard the holodeck doors open nor someone walking towards him but the shrill of his colleague’s voice might as well have been a symphony of brass instruments playing a flat note in fortissimo. The young man bolted upright and opened his eyes, they took note of the body expected to match the voice that had robbed him of his tranquillity. “What do you mean, I owe you one?” Clark retorted in a confused daze.

“You owe me for the extra shift that I’ve had to take in sickbay after Doctor Carrillion couldn’t find you,” Bollwyn answered, crossing his arms against his chest. “We haven’t stopped since arriving at the outpost and you’ve decided to take a break in this!” He flapped his arms around the room. “In fact, what is this?”

“Looking for me? Why would she be looking for me?” Matthys worked hard to hide the panic that now seemed to envelop him. He had worked out coverage for the later portion of his shift; he had been almost certain. “Was Nurse Fraser not covering my shift? How did you land with it?” He took a deep breath and began to rub his temples; his hands transferred the warm mud to them. If he did no-show, this certainly was not a good thing. Doctor Carrillion had already been lukewarm in his performance on the Columbia thus far – Matthys couldn’t really blame her, he had certainly not been putting in the same effort as his colleagues – colleagues like Samwell Bollwyn. Matthys had quickly taken notice of his Ventaxian counterpart’s work ethic in their short relationship as colleagues, a career officer in the making. It both annoyed him but also brought a familiar comfort to him, Samwell reminded him of his older brother in many ways – someone who went above and beyond to get the job done. 

“It doesn’t matter how I ended up with it,” Bollwyn replied. “It was all hands on deck helping the Talarians.”

“I…. Oh no… This isn’t good,” Clark sighed as he rubbed his temples again, getting more mud all over his face. “I… needed a break Bollwyn. I thought I had arranged coverage, but I guess I messed that up.” Clark leaned his head back in defeat and groaned. “I am sorry. I did not intend for you to pull extra time.” Matthys offered as genuine an apology as he could be capable of – a rare occurrence but he did mean it this time. “To answer your other question. These are the mud baths of Parallax. Why don’t you join me? You look like you could use some downtime yourself right now.” Clark voiced the invitation and gestured to the area at his right.

For a second, Bollwyn was annoyed at Clark’s lack of thought or care about his duties. Then, in the next second, he actually considered Clark’s offer. “Mud baths? As in the type of mud baths that the Tellarites enjoy?”

“I think they might enjoy them, whether or not they’d pass the joyous at heart test is another question. Depending on the Tellerite, I guess,” Clark grinned at the thought of that, a group of Tellerites at test with the flying bubble head, he didn’t want to generalize but more often than not most Tellerites he had encountered in his life had a certain grumpy edge to them. Of course, Clark had disabled that and the other background characters upon initiation of the program.

“Anyway, why do you need downtime?” Bollwyn inquired.

“I wasn’t feeling particularly focused or fully present today, I figured a little extra time to ground myself might be a good idea,” Clark stated softly, he had a sinking feeling his excuse wasn’t going to resonate fully with his colleague. He was not ashamed of his actions but they did have a direct impact on others. “You should seriously hop in Bollwyn, I’ll cover my eyes if that’s the issue,” Clark attempted to detract from the situation again in hopes he could soften the reaction to his honesty.

Technically speaking, Bollwyn was off duty and wasn’t expected back on until tomorrow afternoon to take on the beta shift in stellar cartography. For once, he took a leap of faith and decided to go with it. “Fine, but you still owe me,” Bollwyn smirked before he pulled his uniform off and, before long, was slipping into the mud beside Clark. The cool liquid hit his skin instantly. Initially, it felt weird at first, but then, as he submerged to his shoulders, he could feel himself starting to relax a bit. “So what do we now?” He asked, turning to Clark. He smirked at the odd bits of mud that were wiped across his face from earlier, he looked like a kid who had been caught by their parents after smearing paint over themselves.

“We breathe, enjoy the sensation of the mud, let our bodies and minds relax…. and manifest positive thoughts for the dressing down I’m going to get from Doctor Carrillion later on,” Clark chuckled awkwardly before his eyes moved off Bollwyn and closed. He leaned his head back and followed the instructions he had given. He breathed deeply and said his prayers for later. He had a feeling Carrillion would not be as forgiving as Bollwyn had been.

Jeden sat in Ten Forward as she waited for her shift to start enjoying a Deka Tea. As she sipped the hot tea she casually scrolled through her PADD look-up details on Outpost Galen Four. She knew they were en route to the remote outpost after it was hit by a neutronic storm but hadn’t been told much else.

Putting the PADD down she tilted her head back and stared off into the distance and ran through the possible issues the ageing station would have following the impact with a neutronic storm and how best to fix them. Muttering to herself she rattled them off in her head, “Hull damage though if their shields held….., power disruptions, possible radiation damage…” Her line of thought was interrupted as she felt the subtle shift within the ship as it dropped out of warp into orbit around Outpost Galen Four. 

Her eyes instantly jumped to the station trying to make out any details but they were too far away to make out much beyond several docked ships.

Before she could think on it her commbadge chimed and her direct CO’s voice came over it, “Ensign Sonia, report to transporter room 2 in 20 minutes, you are heading to the station to assist with repairs. They will send you where needed once you arrive. The rest of your team will meet you in the transporter room.”

Quickly replying with her confirmation she took one last sip of her tea before scoping up her PADD and running down to the main equipment lockers to grab whatever she could think of. As she ran she couldn’t help but smile, she always enjoyed diving into a problem when it came to fixing it. 

Nineteen minutes later she ran into the transporter room gasping for air slightly as she lugged a large duffle bag over her shoulder filled with two standard repair kits and a couple of extra components she thought may have been burned out on the station. As she entered she looked around and tried to hide her rapid breathing before realizing she was the only one in the room, “Guess I am the first one here.”

She wasn’t for long, however, as a petite figure bounced into the transporter room, engineering kit in hand and a smile that would brighten the moons of Qo’nos. “So, who’s leading this shindig?” the green-skinned beauty smirked, hoping her colleague would understand the irony of the fact there were only the two of them in the room.

Jeden turned around and smiled back, “Oh, hey.” She made a mock glance around the room and shrugged, “At the moment, both of us, neither of us, who knows.” As she finished, she glanced over the Orion and tilted her head as she thought back to her friend Veeda. After a moment she let out a little laugh and held out her hand, “I am Sonia Jeden by the way, I don’t think we have met yet.”

“Dalaa,” the young Orion returned the greeting, taking the offered hand and shaking it for a moment. “What are we even doing when we get over there?” she asked when the pleasantries were over.

“Honestly, my CO was a bit vague, they told me to report here and beam to the station and we would be told where to go. I figure, we just work as a pair and go from there.” Jeden said with a shrug as she quickly entered the coordinates for the transport.

“Well let’s get over there, then…” Dalaa shrugged, climbing the few steps onto the transporter pad and waiting for her new friend.

Jeden skipped onto the pad and smirked at Dalaa, “You took the words right out of my mouth.” Looking toward the console she tapped her combadge, “Energize.”

In a swirl of blueish light, the transporter room vanished from before them before being replaced with a dark room illuminated by only a couple of emergency lights. Jeden looked around and easily recognized the layout and design of an older-model transporter room just before the door opened and a young Bolian, not much older than herself, stepped in.

The Lieutenant, based on his dirty and stained uniform barely glanced up at them from a PADD he was busy working on, “Right, Ensigns…Sonia and Dalaa,” he said after quickly flicking through his PADD. Stifling a yawn he turned and quickly, “Follow me.”

Jeden glanced at Dalaa and shrugged, “Off we go then, I guess.”

Exchanging glances with her Columbia colleague, the Orion shrugged her shoulders and hopped off the transporter pad, following closely behind the Lieutenant.

Following the Lieutenant down the corridor Jeden couldn’t help but notice that the station looked worse for wear with multiple damaged power junctions and signs of old age at almost every turn. What did catch her attention as they passed the mess hall, by the looks of it, was a large number of young Talarian. 

Quickening her pace she fell in line beside the Lieutenant, “How many Talarians are on the station, Lieutenant?”

He shrugged, “Too many.” 

Before she could push any further he turned down another corridor which was marked with a sign saying Docking Clamps A. “Ok,” he began, “Here we are, you two are to assist the crew of the Q’Nair in getting their systems fixed. Their commander…ah…Xindar requested help as the ships were on a training mission and they did not have enough people who knew what they were doing. Their initial reports indicate their power relays took a hit during the storm and are causing fluctuations throughout the ship and interfering with their gravity as well. Questions?”

Jeden looked over at Dalaa before glancing towards the docking clamps, “How have the Talarians been? I have heard they are, um, rather aggressive towards the Federation?” She was sure there wouldn’t be any issues as they were there to help after all but she hated the thought of having to fight if it came to it.

The Bolian sighed but nodded in understanding, “We have been at peace with them, for decades, Xindar has been nothing but formal and respectful towards us.”

“No two people are the same,” the Orion told with wisdom far belying her years. “We should show caution in our dealings with them.” 

Jeden glanced at the Orion and nodded, “Always a good idea.” With that, she turned and walked to the airlock as her mind started to focus on the work while pushing any concerns she had to the background, “I do love working in zero-g but it can get so messy if the ship isn’t well kept.”

Stopping and glaring at the entrance, the Orion took several deep breaths in order to compose herself. “I… I’m no fan of zero-g.” But seeing her companion happily going about her business made her competitive streak show, pushing herself to get in the airlock.

Before stepping into the airlock Jeden glanced at the panel and confirmed there was a hard seal with the Talarian ship, “Seal is good. Guess I should knock.” Without pause, she quickly tapped the console letting the crew of the Q’Nair know that they had guests. 

After pressing the comms panel and not getting a response for 30 seconds Jeden began to rock back and forth on her toes, “Wonder if no one is h….”

A crackle of static came over the speaker and a young voice responded, “What do you want Federation?”

“Uh.., we have been told to help you with the repairs to your power systems and hopefully sort out your gravity,” glancing back at Dalaa she shrugged, “May we come aboard?”

There was a moment where the silence hung in the air until the airlock before they clicked and slid to the side. “Fine.”

“Aren’t they a welcoming bunch,” Jeden mused as she stepped inside and stumbled forward as the gravity shifted between the station and the ship.

Dalaa watched and listened to the exchange, hoping it wouldn’t be long until they were out of the airlock one way or another.

After the airlock closed behind them the inner door opened revealing a large middle-aged Talarian, “Welcome to the Q’Nair, I am Xindar the Captain. I am glad that we finally have some assistance with our repairs.” He cast an eye over the two ensigns before sighing, “I hope you do not mind knocking the heads of thick-headed trainies together, you may need to. I will have a word with them but they may not respond well to instructions from women.” 

Jeden inhaled slightly, she had hoped the Talarian society may have changed since but it appeared not. With a shrug she smiled, trying to hide her discomfort, “Their loss then.”

“I’m sure we’ll be able to look out for ourselves,” the Orion smiled, folding her arms across her chest.

“Very well, I will take you the main power relays that were damaged. If you can repair them and sort out this gravity issue it would be appreciated. I would prefer it to be off rather than having these fluctuations,” Xindar said. With that, he turned and led them through the ship. As they made their way through the vessel the extent of the damage became clear as consoles and various secondary systems showed signs of power overloads. The few Talarians they passed turned their heads to watch them pass with suspicious, if not hostile, expressions. 

On more than one occasion Xindar had to bark orders to get them to return to work before they reached the main power relay. “A power surge from the storm overloaded the relay, my engineer is in your station’s medical bay after being seriously injured and the trainees on the ship cannot tell one end of a self-sealing stem bolt from another.  I will have two, somewhat competent ones, join you shortly though as every opportunity to learn should be utilized, their names are Jerom and Kelteh. If you need anything you can reach me with your com badges, the station’s commander looped me into the network.”

Dalaa watched as Xindar went to go about his business, sharing a glance with her colleague before going about her business herself.

Jeden let out a breath she had been holding for a while as her excitement to work on the systems increased, overshadowing her concerns, “Best get to it then, shall we Dalaa? Who knows how much use Jerom and Kelteh will be?”

With that, she slid a hair tie off her wrist and tied her hair back into a short ponytail as she knelt before the access panel and quickly opened, “Let’s see what the damage is….” 

As she pulled the panel away a shower of sparks jumped from the console to her side causing her to shift away from it and put the access panel’s hatch between her and the console. With a chuckle, she put the hatch aside and peered into the main workings of the power relay, “Well….this is a mess. I see several fused power switches and burned our cabling.” She reached for her tool bag and slid it in before her before she began to pull herself through the small opening. After a minute of wiggling through the cramped access tunnel, she pulled herself into the central chamber which was just big enough for a few people to work without physically standing on top of each other she smiled and began to sort out the puzzle before her.

“Whole bloody thing’s a mess,” Dalaa moaned, reaching into her repair kit to pull out a plasma torch and begin melting the welded seams to a console hatch that contained the unit she needed to access. 

After ten minutes of finding a seemingly endless amount of destroyed equipment Jeden looked back at Dalaa, “It might be easier to just rebuild it, this is a mess.” 

Before she could continue a head popped into the opening below beside Jeden’s foot, “Glad to see the Federation isn’t against getting their hands dirty. I’m Jerom, I was told to come help you.”

“You guys really need to learn a thing or two about maintenance,” Dalaa shot the guy a look of disgust. “Nothing on this ship seems to work right, things are jury-rigged that shouldn’t be and don’t even get me started on the EPS relays here…” With that, the young Orion moved away, shaking her head in frustration.

Jeden unsuccessfully suppressed a laugh causing her to snort at Dalaa’s comment, “You could say that again.” Glancing down at Jerom she shifted her feet so he would have to crawl between her legs to get into, “Best get up in here, another pair of hands will be helpful.” 

Jerom pulled himself in and opened his tool kit as she glared at Dalaa, “And what is wrong with the EPS relays? Sure they took some damage but they were working.”

“Barely,” the Orion frowned, drawing his attention to several fused couplings. “If these break down, you’ll lose power across half the ship. You need to get to a repair facility and have the entire ship overhauled,” she went back about her work, utilizing her plasma spanner to help her release some fused components, “…or scrapped entirely.” she added somewhat snidely.

Jeden rolled her eyes as she disconnected and replaced yet another fused power switch, “Wasn’t there meant to be someone else helping?”

Jerom laughed under his breath, “You mean Kelteh? He is Xindar’s son, I would be surprised if he shows up, if it isn’t a weapons system or fighting he doesn’t care. Not to mention…” Jerom glanced at the two ensigns before sighing, “He is, um, well… rather old fashioned, when he heard the Federations send to women to repair the ship he may have said some unpleasant things….”

Before either could respond Jerom continued, “I know how my people are, where, well still are, I guess, in regards to gender. It is antiquated. I figure you two are here to help and can teach me something, so why not learn.”

Jeden smiled, “Glad to hear that Jerom. I am sure it goes both ways.”

“I’m not…” Dalaa muttered from inside a nearby console, shaking her head in a rather convincing fashion.

Jeden turned slightly, gave Dalaa a sideways glance and rolled her eyes, “Ignore that.”

Over the next two hours, they worked carefully at striping out and replacing all the burned-out and damaged equipment, twice having the gravity cut out completely causing their tools and themselves to float dangerously close to some of the still-live power conduits. 

“I think that is it,” Jeden said as she wiped the sweat from her forehead. “Dalaa, can you reactivate the relay?” she asked gesturing to the console beside her colleague.

“I could do it in my sleep,” the cocksure Orion scoffed, downing her tools and tapping away until the relay was once again active, power surging through the conduits.

Jeden smiled as the system came alive around her and she felt the subtle increase in gravity as it stabilized. “Best get out of here now.” she said as she nodded to Jerom, “You first, don’t want to climb over you in here.”

He nodded, tossed his toolbox through the opening and began to make his way through the crawl space; after a moment he disappeared. “Guess I will go next.”

Jeden crouched down and began to pull her way through the small crawl space. After a moment she let a little curse in Bajoran and she hit her hip on a pointlessly placed support. “Why would that have a sharp edge,” she muttered to herself, feeling the sting of a cut.

As she got to the opening she let out a gasp as she saw Jerom unconscious on the floor in the corridor. Just as she let out a shout of warning a pair of hands grabbed her and pulled her out of the crawl space and found two young Talarians standing before her.

“Looks like the Federation finally finished the job, though we will likely need to get one of the male engineers to go and fix their mistakes,” sneered the first. “Maybe I should have supervised but I had better things to do.”

The second one let out a laugh, “You’re likely right on that Kelteh.”

“What happened to Jerom?” Jeden asked already knowing the answer.

“Oh, he must have fallen and hurt himself. Happens to him all the time, he doesn’t deserve to be here. Not like the rest of us.” Kelteh sneered with a short laugh.

Dragging herself out of the crawl space, the young Orion brandished her plasma spanner at the two men. “These Federation women are among the team who have saved your lives, the lives of your friends, and your ship. Show some god damn respect or I’ll damn well crawl in there and undo everything we just did. I have no problem watching you floating in space when the hull breaches and your power systems can’t establish the necessary forcefields,” she warned them, almost out of breath by the time her words had stopped.

Kelteh glared at Dalaa and then back at Jeden as she regained her feet. He wasn’t used to people talking back to him and he stuttered for a moment as his anger increased. “I, well, you…” he stammered as he clenched his fist. 

Before he could say anything footsteps could be heard in the hallway and Xindar stepped into the room. “I have to say, job well done, I hope that…” he stopped when he saw Jerom on the floor and the scene before him. “What is going on here?” 

“According to Kelteh here, Jerom fell and hurt himself while we were still in the access corridor,” Dalaa snitched, folding her arms across her chest and giving the best smug smile she could muster.

Jeden cast an irritated eye at Kelteh while Xindar bent down beside Jerom as he started to stir while looking back at Kelteh. “We all know that isn’t what happened is it Kelteh. Did you at least try to learn something while working with the two ensigns?”

Kelteh looked to his father, “I, well, I got….got caught up with other repairs and only just arrived. Isn’t that right?” He glanced at his friend for support before looking back to Xindar.

His friend started to speak but was cut off, “Enough with the lies, I know you were in the mess hall on the station, their security contacted me when you tried to start a fight with them. You are a disgrace, you were given a chance and chose to squander it.” Xindar looked back at Dalaa and Jeden, “Thank you for repairing the power relays, if it isn’t too much of an imposition could you help Jerom to the medical centre on the station? I have to deal with Kelteh.”

Jeden looked at Dalaa and then to Jerom and nodded, “Not a problem, happy to help.” As she moved to help Jerom up and put one of his arms around her shoulder she looked at Kelteh and shook her head slowly showing her irritation with him. “Dalaa grab his other side, let’s see if we can beam him directly and save the walk.”

Huffing, the Orion did as she was told and dutifully helped the downed Talarian. But inside, she couldn’t help but wonder if all this was worth it. It wasn’t as if the Talarians were ever going to be a threat to the Federation, or an ally, so why were they putting all this effort into assisting them?

Jeden tapped her combadge and a moment later they found themselves standing in the station’s main medical centre which was full of injured Federation and Talarian personnel. As they appeared two nurses ran over and helped Jerom onto a bed before ushering them to the door. Jeden back before turning to one of the nurses, “Let me know how he is, he took a knock to the head.”

With that, they were pushed out the door as the nurse muttered about the lack of space. “Well, that was an eventful day.”