Lieutenant Junior Grade Jason Devron, was almost ready to begin another day as Captain of the little Raven class corvette USS Jaxartes, when an evidently important communiqué was routed through to his quarters. He slipped on his jacket and fastened it up, before seating himself at his small desk and accepting the communication.

The Federation logo was swiftly replaced by the image of his friend and colleague Dinari Lyambo, with his bright beaming toothy smile. “Happy Birthday, Jason.”

“I don’t believe the Priority Communication channels where set up for this sort of thing!” Jason exclaimed light heartedly.

“Well I can’t forget such an auspicious occasion like this; now can I? The Namibian enquired. “You’re my best friend.”

Jason noted the term ‘auspicious occasion’.  “I’m having a Birthday, not being launched out of Space Dock!” The Lieutenant chuckled.  “Any way this ship needs her Chief Engineer back and I need you. It’s been three and a half months. Surely you don’t know that much to teach those cadets?”

Dinari clutched at his chest briefly in mock distress. “You wound me so!”  His face turned a little sterner. “It’s been tough, but at least I’ve been around during mom’s divorce.”  

“How’s that going?”

“Remarkably well; considering all the various investigations that are currently going on.  You’ll get to hear about it all soon enough, but half the Board of Directors could be looking at the inside of a cell before the year is out.” 

“What about all the money?” 

“Oh we won’t be seeing any of that. Not that I care after the way he treated everyone.”  The smile came back, a little forced this time. “Well I’d better not keep you any longer.  Otherwise you’ll be late on shift. And we can’t have that!”

They exchanged goodbyes; and the Federation logo reappeared on the screen.  Jason felt sorry for his good friend and the whole of the Lyambo family, for all the harm their father had caused them.  His company had been responsible for creating banned drugs and compounds which had then been smuggled out to one of the Daystrom Institutes orbital facilities.  The stuff was regarded as so dangerous, it couldn’t be replicated legally.  Any attempt to do so; would shut the equipment down and have the authorities alerted within seconds. However making it from scratch apparently got around that issue.  Though how, was apparently one of a number of things listed under ‘Top Secret.’

Devron’s grandfather had been involved in the original investigation until his untimely death.  The fact that Jason himself was responsible though under Borg influence was still a bitter pill to swallow.  Why he’d been deliberately selected as a target by the Borg had never been established.  It was possible those facts would never be unearthed. Jason wished he’d got to know the man, but their time together had been far to brief. 

            **********

Lieutenant Devron had been on the bridge, no more than an hour; sifting through reports and logs on his PADD.  Noting in particular that the holo-deck had been in use between the hours of 3 and 5am.  A quick word with Ensign Harris confirmed his suspicions.  The ships EMH had been linking itself up with the holo-deck, whilst it learned how to fly!  Jason was so regretting ever telling him he’d flow their shuttle; after that part of the EMH’s memory had been lost.  But the doctor had lost several hours of memory, and he’d only explained the reason as he thought he should.  Now the EMH was spending time learning those skills in much the same way anyone else would.  Whether he’d let the EMH lose in a real shuttle was another matter.

Having lost two shuttlecraft; in separate incidents so far this year, they had been forced to make do with a smaller Type 15 Shuttlepod which was a sort of dull grubby yellow.  What scrapyard the pod had been dragged out of, no one was saying.  But he had to suppose it was better than nothing, only just though.

“Sir, distress call from New Alberta.” The voice of Ensign Cho the Communication’s officer cut into his thoughts. 

“What help do they require?” He responded swiftly.

“Their planet is due to intersect with a large meteor storm and they’re experiencing technical issues with their defence satellites.”  Cho answered him.

“Tell them we’re on our way.” Then to his helmsman. “Mister Harris lay in a course from New Alberta. Warp 4.”

“Course plotted and confirmed, warp engines ready.” The New Zealand came back.

“Hit it.”

            **********

Just under three hours later the USS Jaxartes was lined up in position to intercept any of the approaching meteors that may pose a threat to the planet and its resident colonists.  Ensigns Tholakath and C’Rren spent the next hour studying and plotting the approaching cluster of rocks; ranging in size from pebbles that would just burn up in the atmosphere; to some a bit larger that a Type 6 shuttle.  There were close to seventeen thousand separate targets, though the vast majority thankfully could be ignored.

With a few minutes to go before the first of the meteors came into optimal weapons range; the Captain moved from his seat to the unoccupied Engineering station at the rear of the bridge, and set about reconfiguring in as a secondary Tactical control.  Once he was happy with the settings, he turned to the young   Cardassian. “Right Mister Tholakath, if you concentrate on everything in front.  I’ll operate the aft phasers should anything dangerous get past you.”

“Thank you sir.” The Tactical Officer acknowledged. “Time to first target four minutes and twenty-three seconds.”

The next three hours was spent picking off meteors one by one as they approached the planet; Devron himself only had to fire a handful of times as the Ensign was able to deal with the rest with ease. As the last of the harmless fragments past out of range, everyone gave a small collective sigh. “Well done everyone.” Commented the Lieutenant as he made his way back to the Captain’s seat.

“The Mayor sends his thanks.” Ensign Cho informed him a minute or two later. “And wonders if we have anyone that wouldn’t mind checking over their equipment to see what the fault was.”

            **********

Half hour later the Captain had beamed down with the ships engineer, Torf and crewmen Tyson and Appleby. They arrived on a flat clearing of land three quarters of the way up a snow covered forested mountain.  The air was crisp but not overly cold, thought they were all still glad they’d donned thermal jackets.  A small log cabin sat just behind them, with an elderly man sat in a rocking chair on the buildings wooden veranda. “Welcome strangers.” The man called out in a thick French accent. “Claude and his wife are just through the tree’s there.  I take it you’re here about the tower?” I slightly shaky finger pointed in the direction of a trackway marked out by wooden posts which had been painted red.

The tower was the communications link with the satellites which should have been protecting the planet from the meteorites.  They thanked the man for his help and started heading along the path; when a young girl of may be ten, ran up to them and grabbed Jason’s arm.  “Monsieur, I have been asked to show you something” Then she asked him. “Will you follow me, please?”  Her bright blue coat which came down to just past her knee’s seemed a little thin for the climate, but she apparently didn’t mind the cold, and a French style beret in mustard sat on the top of her head; partly covering her jet black shoulder-length hair which completely covered the girls ears.

Devron had no idea what the young girl was referring to, but felt it might be interesting to find out, so he waved on the rest of the away team and said he’d catch up with them shortly. None of the crew had brought up the subject of his Birthday, no doubt having forgotten.  But he didn’t mind that much, this planet was too beautiful to feel down and the girl seemed happy to have visitors.

            **********

Through the trees Torf and the two crewmen came to what could only be described as an old shed with a 12 meter metal tower attached to the rear.  The Betazoid engineer wrapped a knuckle on the door.  Promptly it was opened by a tall thin man in his mid to late thirties. “Ah good, good.”  He stepped back slightly. “Your Captain not with you?”

“He’s with some young girl at the cabin.” Appleby pipped up.

“You must be mistaken Monsieur?” Claude replied. “No one has lived up here for years.”

“What about the old guy in the rocking chair?” Added Torf a little concerned.

“I assure you no one comes up here. Other than to check on this machine”

The three crew members darted back outside and raced back along the track.  The log cabin was right where they expected to find it.  But the rocking chair was empty, in fact it was more than just empty, it was broken and looked to have been like that some time; years in fact.  The door to the cabin was open and its interior almost bare; save for a log burning stove that had seem much better days and a musty, filthy old bed.  The Betazoid came out coughing from the smell.

“Chief, if the Captain went off with that girl, why can I only see our prints in the snow?” Tyson asked nervously.  The engineer looked all around the clearing.  He was right.  The foot prints made after they’d beamed down and those made just, by walking up to the cabin were the only marks in the otherwise flat snow.  He tapped his comm-badge. “Torf to Jaxartes.  Can you locate the Captain?”