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.”