Captains Log:

With the apparent disappearance of the planet we believed to be Harha’kuva; long range communications have improved considerably.  Whilst we are still unable to contact Framheim Station directly, we have been able to send details of our encounter via other vessels from the fleet.

Warning Buoys and Probes have been left in place, should this mysterious planet choose to reappear in the future.  As for us, we’ve been ordered to make our way back to Framheim.  Most officers and crew are now back on their respective ships, after the chaos of beaming up over three hundred personnel as rapidly as the combined Transporter systems of the USS da Vinci and USS Grus would allow.  Despite our combined loses on the planet, I am thankful that no additional lives were lost during the Transporter phase, and I have commended all those involved in that part of the operation.

Praise must also be given to the skills of the two helm officers, Ensign’s Isaacs and Norwood; who were able to keep a pair Saber’s hovering on station, in a planetary atmosphere, barely two hundred metres apart, whilst the rescue was being made. Without them, and those on the Transporters, we could never have achieved what we did.

This time though, not everyone gets to go home.

<End Log>

Commander Anacostia-Bolling placed down the Padd she’d been dictating to, for the Log, and picked up the one containing the casualty list.

The USS Grus had lost six members of its crew, four having died from heat stroke and dehydration, whilst the other two had been killed in the attack.  Twenty-five of the ships officers and crew were still being treated.  The USS da Vinci had lost one member in the rescue, along with another injured.  The Romulan’s, who’d been on the planet an extra two days, had lost eleven to heat stroke and dehydration, with a further four being killed during the attack.  Sixty were currently undergoing treatment or being closely monitored.

She’d seen the condition the survivors were in; some had hands that just wouldn’t stop shaking, most had blistered fingers and palms; almost all had dried and cracked lips, skin burns covered large parts of their exposed skin.  In the hypnotic state they cared nothing for their own physical wellbeing; all that mattered was to dig.  There was something down there, and that’s where she hoped it would stay.

The buzzer to her Ready Room sounded, and she summoned the person outside the door to enter.

Lieutenant-Commander Chance Vought, walked in with a slow careful shuffle.  The back of his left hand was covered in a protective Hydrocolloid dressing, whilst another covered the back of his neck; both areas had suffered considerable skin damage, and would require further treatment with a Dermal Regenerator.

“Should you really be up and about this quickly?”  She tried to sound concerned and sympathetic, but even though there was only eleven years difference between them, she did sound more like a mother than a superior officer.

“Your medical staff have far worse people to deal with than me.” His voice was a little raspy.

“Well at least sit down.” The Commander waved a hand at an empty chair opposite.

“If I do, I’ll need help getting up again.” Vought tried to make light of his situation; but crawling around on his hands and knees in the sand, had not done his body any favours.

“What are friends for if they can’t drag each other out of a chair every now and again?” There was a thoughtful edge to her voice, as she recalled some found memory of her days as a cadet. “Besides you make the place look untidy.”

Vought sat with a groan, feeling a slight twinge in his lower back; may be telling Doctor Sunny that he was fine, hadn’t been one of his greatest moves.  But it was true that there were still some in a worse state than he was.

“I’m surprised you’re still classing me as a friend, after the mess I made of this mission.” He commented, once he was as comfortable as he was likely to get.

“What happened was beyond your control.” Mary reassured him. “We totally miscalculated and it was only my stupid dumb luck that figured out what was going on.”

“It was that dumb luck as you put it; that basically saved everyone.” Chance replied.  “How is Miss Trazan doing?”

“Physically she’s doing ok.” There was a pause. “But the mental strain on what she was being forced to do; that’s going to take a while.  Have you discovered the catalyst aboard the Grus?”

“Not to my knowledge, but we are looking into how it all started.” Chance answered.

**********

Ensign Cho knew this wasn’t something she had to do, but she’d chosen to, regardless.  It was why she was now sat on a small swivel chair, in the quarters assigned to Petty Officer Bento Sousa.  As a member of her small communications team, she’d got to know the man, rather well.  Learning of his death on the surface of Harha’kuva, had come as a devastating blow.

The young Korean was now sorting through the man’s personnel possessions, ready to have when packed way and sent on to his next of kin.  She was not alone though; with her was her fiancé Ensign Chad Harris.

“You didn’t have to come.” She said to him softly. “I could have managed.”

The New Zealander carefully folded up a dark blue sweatshirt and placed it down on to of another he’d already folded.  “I’ve seen your packing, just remember that.”

A small smile passed her lips, as she remembered them throwing her sports socks at each other; the laughter and everything that had happened afterwards.  This mission had seen little if anything to smile about; and she was glad to see the back of Harha’kuva and all the pain it had helped create.

Her attention turned to a Padd, sat on the small wall mounted table.  It flickered to life, as her fingers touched the screen; having not been switched off or locked, before it was placed down.  The image of the last thing Sousa had looked at resolved itself; and Cho let out a murmur of surprise.

“What is it?” Chad asked with concern. “What’s the matter?”

“Take a look for yourself.”  She passed him the Padd.

On it was a fictional account of a village whose inhabitants had all mysteriously disappeared overnight.  It was apparently based on a number of long standing legends from the South American continent.  But the thing that caught his eye most was the name of the place, Lar Verde.

“That’s the place we all saw.” He looked at her stunned.  “Are you saying we were all looking at his memories and everything he’d read in this book?”

Cho nodded. “Basically, yes. He must have been the first person who was taken over.”

“The poor guy, to be used like that.” Chad shook his head.  “We’ll finish up here, then we need to inform the Captain.”

**********

In another section of the ship, Lieutenant Jason Devron was sifting through the belongings of someone else who’d died on the planet.  Crewman Ishan Rahul, the same man that had pointed a phaser at him, but for some unexplainable reason had been prevented from doing so, by the forces taking over the minds of the crew.

Jason wanted answers.  Why hadn’t he been affected like everyone else aboard the Grus and why had Ishan wanted to kill him in the first place?

He wasn’t sure if he’d find an answer to either question, in the man’s possessions; what he did find though, left him totally stunned.

Jason noticed the back of a photo the corner of which poked out from under the man’s pillow. The information written on it gave it a date of 2375, along with the words ‘Operation Hailstone’.  That put it at the end of the Dominion War.  On the front of the paper, six individuals in combat gear; some were smiling others looking grimly determined.  One of them in the middle, reminded him of a younger version of his Grandfather; in fact he was almost certain of it.  But then if the date was right, and that was him, then why was Jason also looking at his own image, on the far right.

“That’s impossible.” He spoke aloud, even though no one else was there to hear him.  “This can’t be real.  There is no possible way that I could be there!”

He sat down, on the lower bunk, and just stared at the photo,

**********

Weeks would pass after the departure of the two Federation vessels and one Romulan; as probes stood silent witness on an empty part of space.  They watched and waited for anything to happen.  When it did, they broadcast one clear message across the stars. ‘Anomalous dimensional distortion detected.’

Harha’kuva had returned!