“RED ALERT!”

“Shields up, Power all forward weapon arrays!” Michael ordered, sliding into the captain’s chair. The bridge was cast in the dim red lights of the red alert, as the air ebbed and flowed to the sound of the alarm klaxons. There was a dual ‘Bzzt’ sound as Trixie and Yeager blinked onto the bridge, taking their respective stations.

“Doc is escorting the guests to Sickbay,” Trixie informed in passing as she took her station. Michael mentally acknowledged this, but gave no response. “Yeager, standby evasive maneuvers.” He ordered the helm.

“Sir, I’m not showing any activity from the Breen vessel,” Archie reported from the science station. “No reactions, no energy signatures…no life signs.” He finished with a confused tone, looking to the commander.

“It’s adrift?” Michael questioned.

“She’s moving along under one-eighth impulse, but she’s also traveling 27 degrees off axis. Looks adrift to me, sir.” Yeager reported.

“Gimmi one torpedo spread and it would be like it was never there,” Romen grunted from tactical.

“Hold.” Archie directed, “Computer, mute auditory alarm.” Michael commanded, silencing the klaxons. He closed his eyes and, with the silence of the bridge, allowed his other senses to expand. Just below him, he could feel confusion, tension, and concern. These were the Bajoran passengers who had been quickly ushered from the mess hall into the Sickbay to keep them secure during the alert status.

Letting his mind expand further outwards, he reached into the vast space beyond the ship, listening, feeling for what may lie before them. After what felt like an eternity, Michael opened his eyes. “There is no one there…” he affirmed. Stand-down red alert, shift to status yellow, and keep the shields up.” He commanded.

“Thoughts?” Archie inquired.

“There has to be a reason it’s adrift. I intend to find out why.” Michael remarked.

“Could be a trap.” Romen interjected.

“True, but this isn’t them playing possum, and I don’t see them using a ship of that caliber as chum. Yeager, bring us in closer so we can get a better look, but keep us oriented towards its aft sections. Romen, keep an eye on its power systems. That energy disruptor comes online; we shoot first and ask questions later.”

“Aye, sir.” The crew acknowledged in unison.

As the Fox moved into position opposite the ship three times its size, Archie excused himself from his station and approached Michael, leaning in discreetly. “Sir, would it not be prudent for us to…for lack of a better term, ignore this, and continue with our mission, given the nature of our passengers?”

Michael’s eyes darted downward as he contemplated his XO’s wisdom. It was true that he was playing with a frigid Pandora’s box, poking a dead Breen ship with a stick. But the exceptionality of circumstances warranted some sort of investigation. “Let’s get a closer look to see what we’re possibly dealing with, then we can drop a buoy with at least some actionable information, maybe the Enceladus or Bell Rock can pick it up for further study, or we can circle back when we drop them off.”

Archie nodded. He was worried for a moment that Michael was going to order another away mission, which would only increase the risk to their primary mission. He was glad, however, that the Commander was taking a more cautious and diplomatic approach.

“Sir, I have a better view of the ship on scanners. It looks as if there are multiple hull breaches all along their warp nacelles. Main power is offline, the Warp core is offline, and I’m detecting widespread damage along the ship’s primary EPS conduits.” Trixie described.

“I’m detecting 138 bio-signatures onboard. All Breen…all deceased.” Archie confirmed.

“The hell could have caused this? Trixie, does the hull breach appear to be a result of weapons fire?” Michael asked.

“No, sir. It looks…internal.” She remarked.

“Sabotage?” Romen asked with a shrug.

“There aren’t many hazardous anomalies in this nebula, are there?” Michael asked, turning to Archie at the science station.

“No, sir, the nebula has a high concentration of Sirillium, but that’s only dangerous if ignited,” Archie reported.

Michael’s gaze turned to the view screen, the remains of the Breen Warship still instilled hesitancy in his mind. “We have orders and a standing obligation to deliver our guests to Dreon promptly. As much as I want to dig deeper into this mystery, we can’t afford to go down this rabbit hole with them still on board. Let’s drop a comms buoy; either another Starship will pick it up, or we can circle back after…” Michael began to designate, but stopped at the raised hand of Romen.

“Sir…tactically, I’d advise against that,” Romen interjected.

“Oh?” Archie posed, a little insulted.

“Think about it. What if the Breen are out looking for this? Worst case, if found it with a flashy Federation beacon parked next to it with a sign reading ‘Be right back’. We’ve already been briefed that they don’t need much for provocation. Not to mention scavengers in the region. We really want to allow someone else to get their hands on that energy-dampening weapon?” Romen explained.

Michael closed his eyes in exasperation; he didn’t initially think of that, but Romen was right. It was a bad look for them to pin a flag on a dead ship and run off.

“We don’t have the time for a salvage operation. And if we depart without leaving any notice or clarification, and the Breen did come across this, they could pick up our ion signature, tell that we were here, and presume we caused the damage. That would put us and the Federation in a far more presumptuous situation.” Archie defended.

“Alright, enough!” Michael ordered, silencing the two. “Were damned if we do, and damned if we don’t. At this point, we have to pick the lesser of two evils and move on. We’ll contact command and…” Michael began again, but was once again interrupted.

“Uh, sir…I think a third option has presented itself.” Yeager called out, pointing to the view screen. Everyone turned to look and noticed it at the same time. Romen slumped his shoulders in defeat, Archie cursed “Oh Bollocks…” under his breath, and Michael could only rest his forehead in the palm of his hand. “Is that what I think it is?” Michael asked aloud.

“Think so, boys…rule one of the frontier; best laid plans always go to shit.” Trixie addressed.

Michael wiped his face with his hand and sighed deeply. “Yeager, Romen, Prep the Kitsune. Archie, please go down to sickbay and request that our guests return to their quarters, and apologize for the delay. Trixie, go with him and give Doc the heads up…” Michael delegated to the crew as his eyes remained glued to the viewing screen.

Just on the underside of the Breen interceptor was a small floating metal fragment with a blinking light. It wasn’t the fact that there was light coming from a dead and unpowered starship that was the problem…it was the consistency.

[Blip, Blip, Blip. Flash. Flash. Flash. Blip, Blip, Blip.]

USS Fox, Rolor Nebula
(15min Later.)

Michael watched, arms crossed, from the observation deck as the Type 12 Shuttlecraft ‘Kitsune’, backed into the shuttle bay, a large copper-like cylinder locked in its tractor beam. It looked almost like an overgrown sarcophagus, and for all he knew, it could be. As the shuttlecraft touched down for landing, the shuttle bay doors secured behind it and repressurized the room.

Michael, flanked by Romen and Doc, came down the stairs into the shuttle bay where Yeager was exiting the craft. Once again, Romen came to the party with a Type 3 Phaser in hand, while Doc carried a medical briefcase. Yeager was tossed the phaser in Romen’s hand, while the Security officer slung a second phaser rifle from behind him into his grasp. The group split into two as they flanked around the craft to the back of the bay, where the Breen sarcophagus lay.

Doc was the first to approach, as the active hum of the phaser rifles charging filled the room. Medical tricorder in hand, he scanned the structure for over a minute in silence. “There is definitely someone inside, sir. Breen. Alive, appears to be in some sort of cryo-stasis.”

“Is there any way to wake it up, or open it?” Michael asked.

“Do we really want to?” Romen asked bluntly.

“That…is out of my purview, sir. I can only study the body, and even then, we know very little of its biology. Technology is someone else’s specialty.” Doc affirmed.

“Yeager, you mind?” Michael asked. The pilot nodded as he tossed his rifle to the commander and, in a blip, ‘zapped’ out of the shuttle bay. A second later, Trixie ‘zapped’ in, in Yeager’s place. She took a moment to look around and focused her attention on the sarcophagus. Crouching down, she ran her fingers across the surface of the structure, and after teasing half the length, an access panel that was hidden behind a metal plate popped up into view.

The control screen was in an electric green, with black and the very occasional picton blue lettering that would fade in and out. “Anyone read Breen?” Trixie inquired, looking up at the other three, seeing blank expressions. Nodding, “Well, it’s going to take me a while to play with it and find out what makes it tick.” She confessed.

“Alright, let’s secure the shuttle bay just in case. Doc, please work with Trixie and keep a close eye on our new…guest.” Turning to Romen, and handing him the rifle, “We need to go ahead and head out before we attract any unwanted attention. Let’s leave a nav beacon on the wreckage just in case, so we can find it on our way back. Then we can take our time and figure everything out.” Michael directed, leading the security officer up the stairs to Deck 3.

“I’ll leave something subtle that doesn’t attract attention. Something we would know to look for, but not draw anyone to it.” Romen agreed. “Let’s hurry up and get the Bajorans where they need to go before…” Michael’s words were cut off by the dimming of lights, flickering a deep shade of red. Klaxon alarms blared in their ears. “Oh, DAMN IT…” Michael cursed, breaking into a sprint down the hallway to the Turbolift.

As the lift doors opened onto the bridge, Michael spilled out, “Report!?”

“Sir, I got three contacts on an intercept course coming in hot. ETA one-thirty.” Yeager reported.

“Do we know who they are?” Michael asked, hopeful it was just a very eager Ferengi merchant looking to make a sale.

Archie, who had zapped onto he bridge shortly after Michael arrived, turned from the Science Station. The deadpan look on his face was enough, but his findings were thrown up on the view screen. Three ‘dots’ were moving fast towards their direction…from the Breen side of the nebula.

The weight of his actions felt heavy on his soul as he watched the repercussions of his ‘curiosity’ race across the screen. Michael exhaled, hoping the tension headache this was all giving him would subside somewhat. Romen, having stowed away the weapons, appeared on the bridge next. “Orders, Commander?” Archie asked.

“Shields up, prime all weapon banks, and load forward torpedo bays. Yeager, orient us to the new arrivals. Archie…Hail them.” Michael commanded, taking his seat in the Captain’s chair.

“Closing in, 30 seconds,” Yeager reported.

“Sensors show three Plesh Brek frigates, sir. We can take them.” Romen declared confidently.

“We could outrun them,” Yeager added in.

“Hold fast, Archie, any response?” Michael declared.

“None yet, sir,” Archie replied.

“Open a channel. All frequencies.” Michael instructed

“Breen Squadron. This is the Federation Starship Fox. You are on an intercept course to our coordinates. I advise you to slow your approach and remain outside weapons range, yours and mine. We came upon this wreckage by chance and did not have a hand in its fate. We can discuss this amicably, but know I will not tolerate acts of aggression.” Michael declared firmly

The three ships did not reply to his message, but it was clear they received it, as each one came to a full stop JUST out of optimal weapons range.

“They’re scanning the wreckage, sir,” Yeager reported, his fingers hovering over the navigation controls, ready to barrel out of harm’s way in case the fireworks began.

The bridge sat in silence for a moment before Archie chimed in, “They’re scanning us now, sir.”

After the lead ship finished its scan of the fox, the three vessels slowly began to advance, separating into an offensive pattern around them. “Sir, their charging their forward disruptors,” Romen announced. “Standby evasive maneuvers,” Michael ordered the helm. But instead of weapons fire, the trill sound of hail could be heard. “Sir, their hailing us. Audio Only.” Archie relayed. Michael nodded. What followed was a scratchy, garbled transmission in broken common.

“FEDERATION STARSHIP, YOU ARE NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE DESTRUCTION OF OUR VESSEL?”

“No, we found it like this shortly before you arrived,” Michael affirmed.

“FEDERATION STARSHIP, YOU ARE IN POSSESSION OF THIS VESSEL’S LIFEBOAT?”

“Yes. Its emergency beacon activated when we got close, so we brought it aboard to render aid.” Michael continued. His left hand was white-knuckling the armrest of his chair as he spoke, even though he tried to appear and sound calm.

“FEDERATION STARSHIP, DID YOU COMMIT BREACH?”

Michael looked to the bridge crew for a moment, confused. “I don’t understand. What do you mean by breach?”

“DID YOU BREACH THIS VESSEL’S LIFEBOAT?”

“No, the lifeform inside is still in stasis. We were unable to decipher the lifeboat’s controls. But the lifeform inside is still alive.” Michael assured.

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. Michael turned to Archie, arching a brow as to indicate the status of the communication, which the XO reported nonverbally that it was still active.

“We have no qualm if you wish to recov—” Michael began, but was once again cut off.

“FEDERATION STARSHIP, YOU WILL RELINQUISH THIS VESSEL’S LIFEBOAT AT ONCE.”

“Ok. We accept. Power down your disruptors, and we can transport—” Michael began again.

“YOU WILL RELINQUISH THIS VESSEL’S LIFEBOAT AT ONCE, OR WE WILL OPEN FIRE”

Fed up with being interrupted, his anger flared, “I’m not lowering my damn shields with your weapons pointed in my face!” Michael barked angrily.

“Sir. We can anchor the Kitsune and vent the atmosphere in the Shuttle Bay, which will eject the lifeboat into space without having to lower our shields.” Archie recommended.

“Tell Doc and Trixie to clear out and do it.” Michael quickly acknowledged.

“Way ahead of you, sir.” Trixie’s voice came from behind as she approached the back of the Captain’s Chair. The ‘sarcophagus’ was jettisoned into space behind the Fox. The Breen Frigate moved to the Fox’s starboard side, reasonably to lock onto the lifeboat for transport. But what followed was unexpected by all parties on the bridge.

The Plesh Brek-class fighter fired its disruptor, not at the Fox, but at the lifeboat, destroying it in a single hit. The other two vessels began to rapidly move into position, as Michael ordered immediate evasive maneuvers. Yeager dove the Fox TOWARDS the firing Breen ship, hoping to create a crossfire line with the other two, but to everyone’s bewilderment, the ships were actually turning towards the wreckage instead. All three Breen ships fired wildly at the drifter, and after only two volleys of unshielded disruptor fire from all three ships, the already disabled Chel Grett-class cruiser exploded into a million pieces.

The shockwave from the destruction rocked the Fox, but Michael was able to maintain his position in his chair. “DOC!” Michael ordered, watching the medical hologram disappear from the bridge to check on the Bajoran passengers. “Report!” he turned to the rest of the bridge.

“All Breen fighters are retreating back to their border, sir. Should we pursue?” Yeager questioned.

“No…” Michael muttered, still staggered at what had just occurred.

USS Fox, Dreon Sector
(3 Hours Later)

Michael stood in the hallway on Deck 3, looking out the Port side windows to the Planet of Dreon just below them. There was a very stiff drink in his hand, doctor’s orders, now that everything and everyone was in the clear.

“Commander?” Came the soft voice of Saacti calling out to him down the hall. “Ahh, Vedek Ma’am. Sorry, I thought you would have already been beaming down to the planet by now.” Michael answered.

“Well, I wanted to see you, and thank you for your hospitality and your protection during our voyage.” She spoke as she approached him. For a moment, he wanted to hide the drink in his hand, but realized there was nowhere to put it, and shamefully gave up. “Ahh, well, it was my Duty and Honor, Ma’am.” He said, forcing a smile.

“Are you ok?” Saacti asked sincerely.

There was something about the tone in her voice that cut through Michael. Just like in the Mess Hall during their dinner, he just…felt right about being honest with her. He sighed deeply and turned his head back to the window. “No, but I will be.” He admitted.

“Troubled about how things turned out?” She inquired.

Another deep, releasing breath escaped his lips. “They just killed him. I know Breen are super secretive, but…I delivered a man to his execution because we dared leave a fingerprint. We could have fought them off, we could have won, and had a live Breen specimen and a nearly intact warship for Starfleet to examine. That intel could have been a turning point in our relations and engagements against the Breen in this sector, and I let it go,” he confessed

“Why didn’t you fight them then?” She asked, almost as if she knew the answer already.

“I…I didn’t want to risk the engagement and put you and your people in harm’s way.” Turning to face her, he quickly held up his hand in defense, “I in no way am blaming you for this, I just…”

“So, let me ask you then. Had we not been on board…would you have fought them off? Would you have dragged your trophy back to Starfleet?” Saacti asked, sanctimoniously.

Michael huffed a single chuckle. “Honestly, probably…”

“So, you valued the lives and safety of the weak and innocent over contest and accolades? You didn’t cower from conflict; you prayed for peace. You put the value of life over your own bravado and prestige. You did the right thing, Michael.” Saacti confirmed, placing her hand on Michael’s cheek.

“Then why do I feel so bad about it?” He asked, leaning the weight of his head into her palm.

“You feel ashamed, for the same reason I pity you. Because as much as you value the lives of others around you, you don’t put the same value into your own life. That’s why you surround yourself with holograms. You care for them as you would any other, but deep down you know they are expendable as you see yourself. You have a beautiful heart. I only wish one day you would find the faith in yourself to protect that with the same passion as you protected me.” She explained.

The contact between them enhanced the emotions he was feeling. She truly did feel for him, and was sincere in her words, but held her external emotions in check. As much as he fought, he could not help to shed a tear at her confession, unable to bring himself to comment or argue her points.

“Soraya Payal, Captain.” Saacti bade farewell in her native language, turning to head back to the Transporter room.

“Peace be with you, your reverence.” Michael managed to whisper.

[THE END]