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Part of USS Daedalus: Mission 1 – Measure by Measure and USS Mackenzie: Mission 12: Measure by Measure

DMBM 021 – Live and Let Die

Regula Station 354
7.26.2401
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“He’s going to survive.” McKee sat in the chair in the sick bay.  She threw the makeshift gloves into an overflowing bin and grumbled about her dirtied clothes.  “Thasta is coming back for us, isn’t he.”

Greer did the final checks on the equipment that was monitoring and healing Hossa.  “Probably.  He thought he killed this one, so he figured we might get caught up in recovering his body or trying to search the station for more.  Thasta had to be suspicious if this one was.  The difference is, Thasta cares.”

Elizabeth wondered, “Could we get him to the shuttle and back to Daedalus?”

Moore had been thinking the same thing, “Let me see if I can raise them.”

 

On the Daedalus, Presley Atega was finishing her shift at communications.  They had all been closely watching the station’s system from a distance.  Putting the Chief and Deputy Chief on the station had been a gamble, and she had watched Captain Dread’s deliberations on the bridge.  There was concern that a security or operations officer would raise suspicions.

Sadie Fowler shouted from her science station, “Picking up a signal departing the station…sensors identify it as an older model civilian shuttle.  Checking against ours…it’s another model.”  She turned and gave Lieutnenant Tir an apprehensive look.  He was the man in the chair, having been given the CONN from Captain Dread several hours previous.

Don’t freak out, Calog.  Let’s take this one step at a time, was the words from Tir, his symbiont.  She was soothing his nerves as best as she could.  He tapped his badge, “Captain to the bridge.”  He stood from the chair, “Do we have a track on where it’s headed,” he asked Sadie.

She was looking at both the sensor and tactical readouts on her display, “They’re moving fast, whoever they are.  Tracking…they’re headed into our suspected Syndicate-influenced space…but if they’re smart, they’ll change their course, and we’ll end up chasing a ghost of a signal.”

The turbolift doors opened, and Helena Dread stepped through, “Report.”  She was still getting used to being the captain.  It wasn’t easy, but she was learning.  It helped to have Captain Halsey as her XO and Ensign Barker as her Yeoman.  Tir ran down what they knew.  She grimaced.  It wasn’t much, but it was unusual.  The station hadn’t had much traffic in and out before, and to have a shuttle blazing a trail into the unknown was…unusual.  “Our shuttle is still docked?”

Fowler checked the passive signal they had planted on the shuttle, “Still docked.  There was a disturbance…looks like someone tried to get into the shuttle…but failed.”  She pressed the console for more information, “The attempt lasted…five minutes.  Shortly after that, the other shuttle took off.”

Helena sat down in her chair, “Damned peculiar.”  They were parked far enough away to look as if they were conducting science studies of the planet below…and were, to a point.  They were also close enough that they could rush to break up whatever might be breaking loose at the station.  Dread was learning what kind of captain she was, and she wasn’t one to wonder when it came to the safety of her team, “Prentice – intercept course with the station – fast as she’ll go.”  The Daedalus shifted in space, blasted to warp, and was on her way.

Dread sent a message to sickbay to be ready in case of injuries.  She checked the latest scans from Fowler.  Nothing remarkable.  They had lost the shuttle’s track pretty quickly.  They were ten minutes away.  She turned her attention to Ensign Catari at tactical, “If that shuttle comes back, it’ll be back with friends.  Daedalus can fight…but we may have to pick up our people and run.”

Catari grimaced, “I’d love to bloody some Syndicate nose as much as the next girl, captain…but we’re not the Mack.  We can throw some punches depending on the content of the friends they bring back.  You order me to stand down, I’ll stand down.”

Helena smiled.  Her tactical chief was a bruiser willing to fill boots when needed.  She’d also recently understood the old adage of keeping one’s powder dry.  The Bajoran ensign had come a long way, and Dread had been discussing promotions with Halsey when she’d been called away.  “Good to hear, Ensi…”

She was cut off by Atega, “Captain, I have a secure hail coming from the shuttle.”  Dread stood and gestured for her to open the channel.

The grainy image of Chief Greer Moore appeared, “Captain – we’ve had some developments.”  She explained the finer details and finished with, “He’s alive and stable…but there’s only so much the mess of a sickbay can do for him.”  She glanced at the sensors, “We haven’t seen any signal of Thasta’s return..but…”

Dread huffed, “But the station has value to him and his employer.  So this place isn’t owned by Pandora?”

Moore shrugged, “Her name never came up…and we were going to work our way to asking today before all hell broke loose.  I can try and get McKee to wake him up, but we pumped him full of stuff to keep him out and healing.”  She paused, “I don’t think the information from our contact was incorrect.  I think Pandora might be testing out her people…or her former people.  If our friend hadn’t gotten out while the getting was good…he might be dead by now.  She might just try and find him to kill him anyway.”

“Let’s hope we can avoid her orbit of obituaries.  We’re five minutes out.  Can you get him into the shuttle and head our way?”

She glanced behind her, asking something of McKee.  She turned back, “We can.  I’d rather not stick around this empty station longer than I have to.  We packed up the equipment we didn’t install, so they’ll get nothing from us.”

Dread gave a nod, and the channel closed, “Fowler?”

Sadie didn’t have good news, “The shuttle is on its way back, and it’s bringing a medium-class Syndicate transport.  They usually have a boarding team and some weapons of choice to light up whoever they’re coming after.  Seven minutes out.”

Helena felt the pressure increase, “They sure must have some love for that station.  Prentice – redline the engines.  Red Alert.  Tir, get the shuttle bay ready for an emergency landing…bumpy ride isn’t really going to cover this.”

The klaxon sounded, and the lights shifted to the traditional ruby setting.  The minutes counted down.